Chapter 1: Copia's Beginnings
Chapter Text
Copia's eyes linger on his big brother's frame as he watches him practice with his ghouls for their upcoming ritual.
All he can focus on as Terzo paces the room, wired microphone in hand, is how thin he is. The way there's so little of him at the waist when he turns, the way his arms and legs have little to no shape at all. He looks graceful, almost delicate, yet somehow he seems to have more power that way despite looking like he has no muscle at all. His blazer creases all down the sleeves, no fat smoothing out the higher portion, the legs of his trousers the same but slightly pooling at the ends to rest atop the beginning of his shoes.
Copia's clothes didn't fit like that. Luckily, he had an extra flap of fabric loosely draped over his shoulders, but he could feel the fabric pull more taut around his upper arms just like the smoothing of his trousers at his thighs only to flick out again at the ankles where he slimmed back down a little.
Through the glass slit on the door, the cardinal continues to study his brother's shape, feeling an odd heaviness come down on him inside, something brimmed with envy and self-loathing but unsettled.
Omega, Terzo's closest ghoul, parades around Terzo with his guitar, nuzzling against him lustfully as he plays and receiving a teasing stroke of Terzo's hand down his chest. No one dolled over Copia like that.
The odd heavy sensation inside stirred up.
Having seen enough, Copia walked away lightly chewing the inside of his cheek. As he paced through the dim ministry hallway he was oddly aware of every slight jostle and quiver of his body at each step. He wobbled.
He crossed his arms across his midsection, eyebrows furrowing softly. He bet Terzo didn't feel his skin reverberate when he walked.
That evening, Copia didn't see Terzo at dinner. He never did see Terzo in the banquet hall these days, actually, now that he thought of it. It's no wonder he's so pleasingly slim, eating was for people of Copia's figure. People that ate every meal had that extra layer that makes you look 'off' regardless of what you wear. People that ate every meal didn't get doted on and admired.
And that was all it took to lose his appetite. The plate of food before him lost all appeal. The gravy just reflected the extra flesh beneath his chin back up at him, it's gelatinous movement reminding him of how his fat moved with him.
Looking around, he could see a couple sisters of sin clearing their plates away finished with small portions of it still left on the plate, scraping it into the bin swiftly without a care. He had over half of his plate... Surely no one would notice?
The cardinal arose from his seat and headed to the bin, clearing away the food with a sense of guilt about the waste. Oh well, sacrifices had to be made.
A week went by and Copia continued to clear away half way through dinners, now also reminding himself to pick smaller options at lunch when he could remember.
After another dinner of only eating half, he headed back to his chamber a little hungry but pushing it to the back of his mind. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, he noticed the door to his bathroom had been left open, light on, but upon heading to turn it off he found himself eyeing the electronic scale. He paused in the doorway. He was never much of one for weighing himself, he wasn't particularly fond of the extra layer around himself and something in him insisted he'd feel worse having a number to it, but he'd cut down a decent amount recently... maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
The cardinal's hand fell from the door as he stepped onto the tiles, bending to turn the scales on and standing back up as he watched it flicker on, listening to his breath and the quiet hum of the cold bathroom light until the screen indicated it was ready. He toed his shoes off and pursed his lips, stepping on slowly and watching the display flicker rapidly before settling. 81kg. Okay. That's fine.
After a quick google search he was told that he was still on the higher end of the 'healthy range' for an adult male of 5'8. And something about that made him feel ill.
This became almost routine for Copia, slowly lowering how much he ate and 'accidentally' getting himself busy when he was supposed to have lunch to give himself a reason as to why he wasn't eating before finishing the day with a weight check in. It'd been about six weeks since he'd began to cut down and busy himself more, he'd finally gotten used to not having snacks enough to forget that he hadn't had a snack between meals at all most days, and now seeing that 70kg on the blue screen soothed the half-satisfied hunger and unease that'd been building up. One more kilogram and he'd officially be teetering on the edge of becoming 'underweight'. For the first time, Copia switched off the scale and headed to bed feeling alright about his body.
Meanwhile, just down the hall, Terzo was returning from a mind-rotting meeting about the up coming tour. He knew it'd likely be his last before he had to pass down the role so he had to make sure he was in perfect figure to have his reign remembered by and - just to sour his mood more - he could feel his pad was wet. Not just damp.
Ever since he began consistently skipping every dinner and barely touching anything at lunch on the few occasions that he would have lunch, he'd been slowly becoming incontinent. He wasn't stupid, he knew a risk of anorexia was muscle deterioration that typically affected the bladder first and foremost, but being fat was worse. He'd have to just deal with it. It's not like he could back out now, anyway. So as it progressed and the small dribbles became small spurts (which were now happening every other hour, not once or twice a day anymore) he'd given in to secretly buying himself incontinence pads.
He arrived at his chamber and tossed his loose blazer to hang over the end of the bed frame, grabbing a pair of pyjama bottoms from his dresser and heading to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him, staring critically at his reflection as he stripped his shirt. His ribs could still be counted. Good. Terzo examined his waist at different angles for a few minutes, gently trailing his nimble fingers down the skin, before continuing to shed his trousers and grimacing at the cold wet sensation of his old piss in the pad shifting against him as he moved his legs. He sat on the toilet as he lowered his boxers, feeling himself start to piss (thankfully in the toilet this time) before he could even manually release, and peeled the used pad off of his boxers, rolling it crudely to shove in the bin. He leaned forward and rummaged in the cabinet besides the toilet, weakly pulling the pack of pads closer with his fingertips to pluck out a new pad. His hands trembled as he picked at the fiddly plastic wrap, tearing it off and placing the pad's sticky back in his underwear before putting his feet through the pyjama bottoms leg holes, pulling the two up together as he stood. Once again, he checked his reflection as he washed his hands and face before heading to bed, keeping a hand draped across his prominent ribs as he drifted off to keep the shame of his incontinence at bay knowing it was worth it.
Chapter 2: Terzo's Ends
Chapter Text
Copia had continued to shrink his portions, he now rarely attended dinner and had what most would class as quick snacks for lunch, refusing himself tea (because although it may be typically low in calories, he put two sugars in his teas) or juice, or energy drinks, between 9AM and 5PM so that he could cut out some additional calories and chug more water as he'd heard drinking excess water could help trim belly fat. The seasons changed and he was feeling much better in himself, the new Copia, who was 59 kg and counting down.
He was a excited, soon enough he'd catch up with his brother and have someone treating him like Omega treated Terzo, all whilst becoming Papa in a Papa-worthy body. His hair had even thinned a little! Before, he'd always had pretty thick hair which made styling it harder especially as the weight to it seemed to straighten it out more. He could now clip back the front pieces of his hair pointed upwards at the ends after a shower in the evening and, upon taking the clips out, find that it was now flicked back how he wanted. His reflection became better, the more he lost, and he wanted to see just how good it could get, proud of how it was coming along.
Sister Imperator had let him know that the tour his brother was out on currently was going to be his last - as soon as Terzo returned it'd be Copia's turn. Three more weeks. Time to really put in the work. He had to be perfect for his entry to the role.
Monday he started of easily: no lunch, half of dinner, water and one tea in the evening.
Tuesday he lowered his allowance: no lunch, one third of dinner, only water.
Wednesday he locked-in: no lunch, no dinner, water and one redbull in the evening (but he walked laps of the ministry that night to make up for it at least a little).
Thursday was harder, but he was determined to look better: an apple for lunch, no dinner, only water.
Friday went a little easier as he saw the weekend coming knowing everyone would be more consumed in their own pleasures than realising his slowly diminishing energy: no lunch, no dinner, only water.
The cardinal was really proud of himself for Friday. So much so that he decided some grapes and crackers on Saturday would be okay (obviously, cheese was way too much, but dry crackers would do). Quite the treat. And, luckily, his tolerance for starving had grown stronger over these past couple months, so he felt pretty satisfied from Saturday and went through Sunday with just a tea. He thought about having an apple too, but he decided he could last without, so he should go without.
There were now two more weeks. It was all he could think about.
His initiating process had already began, Sister Imperator having more meetings with him to remind him of the new expectations ahead, though many of them had been too informal to class as meetings. More like discussions - discussions which often happened whilst taking a stroll round the ministry. More steps means more calories made up for. Things were really going Copia's way. Then, the next few days he extended his water-only hours often falling asleep earlier before getting a chance to give into the craving for anything else.
He returned to the bathroom during his lunch break instead of eating, pacing to keep his mind off the hunger, only a week and a half left to go, he's got this. He toed off his shoes once more, a little weaker feeling in the legs as he stepped onto the scale, resting his hand on the counter besides him. The numbers stabilised and he exhaled, 56kg. With the rate he'd been going, having lost around 25kg in about three months from his starting place of roughly 80kg, he could absolutely get to that 50kg by his first ceremony as Papa. It may be double the maximum 'healthy' speed of losing so much, but he felt good in his new shape, so it was clearly fine.
In the final week, the cardinal was called to Sister Imperator's office to be measured for his Papal robes he'd soon be wearing for ceremonies and leading masses. He entered Sister Imperator's office to find her looking over paperwork before noticing him, immediately smiling and rising from her seat as she grabbed the tape measure and a separate set of sheets. They chatted idly about his feelings about being a Papa so soon as she checked where she needed to measure before getting to work starting with his waist.
"Hmm, someone's looking slimmer~!" Her sing-songy comment came with a hint of approval or something or another positive as she loosely measured his rough circumference since the robes were meant to be loose anyway.
Copia's heart picked up slightly, feeling so proud and valued more than ever before to have his body spoken of well, yet something twinged in him, feeling deceptive or misbehaved somehow.
He was brought out of his conflicted thoughts by Sister Imperator giving another praise.
"No more chunky thighs either? Good on, Copia!" She mused as she lowered the tape measure.
She didn't seem to see anything wrong with the measurements when she was done, so he concluded his ultimate goal could go down to 45kg.
He woke up on the morning of his brother's return to see he had only two hours before Terzo should be back. Rather excited to see his big brother now that he was nearly getting as good as him, Copia was quick to get ready. He got his thinner hair to flick all nicely now that it was so easily manageable and got dressed, happy to see his clothes no longer loosing the creases at his thighs and stomach and upper arms like they did a few weeks before Terzo left for tour. Checking his weight, he was a bit miffed to see 52.3 kg as he'd wanted the nice even 50.
Despite being a little light-headed, he sipped some water and happily lingered in the hall so that he could catch Terzo on his way in. The moment the door cracked open he perked up, waiting eagerly and grinning the second he saw Terzo. "Brother!" He greeted.
Terzo stared back at him seeming void of all emotion for a moment, rather intimidating in his slight hunch with sunken eyes. He took in Copia's form, the cardinal uncertainly awaiting his comment that he so desperately wanted to be approving of his weight-loss. His smile dropped the moment he saw Terzo's eyebrows furrow.
"...What do you want, fratello?" Terzo muttered with a hint of bewilderment in his exhausted eyes, scanning over his brother's nice hair.
Copia stepped a little closer, as he studied Terzo's stance - he had his legs slightly parted, seeming a little out of breath. "To see you? I missed having you around".
Terzo twitched, restraining snapping at Copia but he was losing his patience having a chirpy cardinal before him wanting to hang out like pals as he was barely able to stay stood, irritated by the old damp pad between his thighs as he hadn't gotten a chance to change on the way back to the ministry, now seeing that Copia was practically thinner than him. After how hard he worked to get to his slim physique, to be the thinnest Papa, here his brother is coming up to him on his final day of being a Papa showing him that he wasn't going to be remembered as that one Papa that was absurdly smaller than the rest. It wasn't fair. "Get out of my way".
Copia looked up at him all doe-eyed and confused at the change in character, only to be walked around.
The cardinal followed after Terzo, watching with a tilted head. "Per favore, Terzo-" He began as Terzo entered his own chamber.
Terzo snapped, turning around furiously, stumbling slightly and leaning on the door frame. "What? What is it you want? To show off? I do not care, fanculo! You didn't suffer for it like I did!" he growled, seething with jealousy at the sight of his brother getting thinner and prettier with no downsides at all by the looks of it.
Copia's lips parted, shaking his head softly as he fumbled for words "I haven't eaten but scraps in weeks!".
"Y-You- marmocchio viziato!" He seethed "I don't want to hear it! You get everything you want without an effort in the world while I have to humiliate myself half-conscious just for you to ruin it all!".
Copia's eye's welled up with tears listening to his brother yell at him.
Terzo barked a laugh amongst his rage, staring down at him "You don't care, do you? All you do is want, want, want. You don't care what you're stealing from me".
"Please, Fratello, I don't want to upset you!" the tears in the cardinal's eyes began to pool over the water line.
"Go!" the door slammed.