#Papa Don’t Preach

[itsallmadonnasfault]

Madonna 1986

[shaadiwish]

Save These Designers To Get Your Hands On Some Chic Bridal Jumpsuits For Modern Brides! Stay Tuned To ShaadiWish For Latest Trends And Ideas.

[mauricedelafalaise]

by Justin Teodoro

[itsallmadonnasfault]

Madonna 1986 by Herb Ritts

[littlexdeaths]

i got two new fic ideas on my way to work this morning someone shut my brain off please

[akiymgc]

[rageagaiinst]

"I am such an idiot." // from zain--

"Oh, hun, you're not an idiot. They just can't see how great you are." Annaleigh smiles warmly at Zain from her seat next to him on the park bench. "Why don't we go get some ice cream? That might make you feel better." she suggests.

@atlantean-knights

[shaadiwish]

Rakul Preet & Jackky Bhagnani have the internet on chokehold with their swoony wedding pictures.

[itsallmadonnasfault]

@justinteodoro

[dancngthroughlife]

Continued.  :: @galaxydrcaming​

“I’m not too big on baking, cooking and stuff,” Quinn admitted. The former cheerleader was more into music and subjects learned in school. The last time she remembered baking something, it had gone terribly wrong. She had been pregnant at the time and tried to give Puck a chance. It wasn’t the best moment of her life, to say the least. She wasn’t a bad cook, but she usually stopped by somewhere to pick up food. “I just don’t think that this is helping.” She squinted as she took another bite.

[ghuleh-witch]

Fandom: Ghost Rating: Explicit Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, Pregnancy, Prime Mover au, oral sex, ritual sex Relationships: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x Female!Reader Additional Tags: friends to lovers, use of pet names, domestic fluff, developing relationship, no beta Word Count: 3212 Chapters: 1/5 Summary: When Papa Emeritus IV needs to find a Prime Mover, you volunteer yourself. Ao3 || Masterlist

I.

Your head was pounding as music filled the hall and the laughter of the other partygoers felt like a knife stabbing into your brain. You don’t know why you let your friends drag you to the Winter Solstice ball. You always end up with a migraine by the end. Too many lights, too much noise, and too many scents of perfumes and colognes. It was a sensory nightmare. You looked around at your fellow Siblings of Sin searching for your friends but you couldn’t see them. Great, they left you for the second time that night. You groaned and wiped your clammy palms on your black, sparkly dress.

With a sigh, you fought your way through the crowd to the doors and made it into the atrium of the ministry. It was significantly dimmer and quieter, which had you thanking Lucifer below as you walked toward the staircase that would have led you to the dormitories. 

As you got closer to the stairs, you saw a figure standing in front of the stained glass window of Lilith, next to the staircase. Not just any figure, you realized, but Papa Emeritus IV. He stood tall with his hands resting behind his back. He looked confident in his paints and regal in his black robes with the golden IV embossed on his chest and black and gold stole of skulls on his shoulders. Despite the powerful man who stood before you, you knew something wasn’t right. He should’ve been celebrating with the congregation and clergy, not staring blankly out of a window-colored glass. 

“Papa?” You asked, stepping towards him. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” He hummed and turned his head toward you. “Oh! Sorella, I didn’t see you there. Sorry, what did you say?”

“Are you alright?” You ask again, head tilting as you observe him. Distraction clouded his mind as he took a minute to answer.

“Oh, sì, sì…well sort of,” he sighed. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors.”

“Which one?” You ask with an amused huff earning a smirk from Copia.

“Hehe, there are a lot of them going around. The-eh-prime mover one.” 

You had heard. It was all anyone was talking about. Sister Lucia, Sister Imperator’s assistant, overheard the mother superior discussing the need to carry on the bloodline with Copia. Sister Imperator suggested a Prime Mover, a person chosen by the reigning Papa to carry the next generation. It wasn’t just that, though. A Prime Mover was sacred and Hell-blessed and came with a very generous salary. You were not a part of the Ministry when there was a Prime Mover last, but you heard stories about how Primo worshipped the ground they walked on.

“Yes, that one,” you said. “That’s the popular one right now. I think they’re saying you’re going to line eligible candidates up and fuck them one by one and see what sticks.”

Copia’s eyes widened. “Is that what people are saying? I’m definitely not fucking doing that.” He chuckled. “But the rumor is true. They asked me to find a Prime Mover. Sister says it’s time and that I can’t be Papa forever, even though that’s a load of bullshit. I can be Papa for a couple more album cycles.” 

You let him grumble to himself, a smile forming on your lips as he huffed. This formidable man who preached the joys of sin every Sunday night still pouted like a child being told no sometimes. It was endearing, you thought, and adorable. You stifled the giggle that was threatening to escape and just nodded. “So the rumor is true and let me guess, every eligible Sibling is throwing themselves at you?” 

“Surprisingly no,” Copia clucked, turning to face you fully. You watched as his eyes looked you up and down as though he saw you fully for the first time. 

“No?” Surprise overcame you. You heard siblings bragging about their time in his bed. Surely he had to have throngs of people lining up for him. 

“Well, some are, but the clergy has a set of rules that need to be followed when selecting a Prime Mover, and the rules are common knowledge. The Siblings I’m allowed to pick from do not want me,” he sighed. “Most simply aren’t interested and that is okie dokie.”

You knew of the rules he spoke about. To be a Prime Mover, one had to be older than twenty-five, had been a Sibling for at least two years, had to be in good standing with the Ministry, and had to give up plans of transferring to another branch. The position of Prime Mover was an enormous commitment, and you understood why people were hesitant to take it up, even if the benefits were tempting. 

“There’s a very small pool to pick from,” Copia nodded to himself. He looked unsure of himself as the moonlight from the window bathed his figure in silver light. He looked more ethereal than human for just a moment before refocusing back on you.

“Do you even want a Prime Mover, Papa?” You asked. Their church, their religion, and their beliefs were all about choice, but it seemed no one gave him a choice. 

“Sì, I do,” Copia answered before his voice softened. “I’ve always wanted a little one or two...I just thought…well, I thought people would be interested and that this would be a cakewalk.” 

A silence fell over the two of you and you allowed your mind to wander. Would it be so bad carrying his heir? Copia was attractive, and you heard the stories—saw how he moved his hips on stage. It would be enjoyable, and what else did you have going on? You weren’t going anywhere, anytime soon. There were no plans to leave the place that had become your home over the last two and a half years. You had no marks on your record. As far as anyone was concerned, you were a good, upstanding little Satanist. 

And the idea of having your own private suite was very enticing. No more using the communal bathrooms and hoping you weren’t interrupting someone’s “play” time.

Your mouth opened and before you could talk yourself out of it, you spoke. “I’ll do it.” 

Copia, who looked like he was about to say something, froze, mouth ajar. He closed his jaw and his eyes grew wide in surprise. “You what?”

“I’ll do it,” you repeated, taking a step towards him. 

“A-are you sure you know what you’re saying?” Copia asked after an achingly long moment. “I know I’m not the most desirable of Papas.”

“Stop,” you said as you held your hand up to emphasize your command. “You are desirable, Papa, and there are plenty of Siblings and Ghouls here that think so. It just so happens that the ones that do desire you aren’t eligible for the position. But I am.”

He blinked. “You desire me?”

“Well, it wasn’t the food that made me join up,” you laugh.

He let out an awkward chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. “I-eh-thanks. I…accept.”

It was your turn to blink. “Is that it?” You ask. “That was simple.”

“There's a ritual to complete, and paperwork to fill out.”

“Paperwork?”

“Sister loves her paperwork.”

You met him in a conference room near his office the next morning. Your eyes struggled to stay open as you sipped the water that was set in front of you by a ghoul. When you and Copia parted the night before, you had gone back to the room you shared with two other Siblings. You lay in bed, a hand stroking your stomach as you tried to picture yourself round and very pregnant. Questions plagued your mind all night, causing your sleep to be disrupted. 

Now you were sitting with him, Sister Imperator, and the Ministry lawyer, Cardinal Nemo, as a thick packet of paper sat in front of you. You fought back a yawn as Cardinal Nemo explained your duties and restrictions as a Prime Mover. You were prohibited from doing a few things. While trying to get pregnant, you could only have unprotected intimacy with Copia. That made sense to you. You weren’t trying to have someone else’s baby after all. You were also not allowed to partake in anything that could hurt the baby should you become pregnant, which again made sense. Other than the obvious, you were free to do whatever you wanted, just like you were now. You were not bound to him — were not married to him, but you’d be the only one to give him an heir or heirs if you chose to have more than one child with Copia. Then after raising them (if you chose to, which you would you knew that for sure), you’d get to retire from the position and would never have to want for anything for the rest of your life.

18 years is a long time, you reflected. You thought the idea would scare you, and make you want to back out of all of this, but you weren’t afraid. If you had a child, you’d get to watch them grow and raise them all while not having to worry about a thing. You wouldn’t have to worry about providing for them or worry about making sure they were happy. Everything was covered. You always wanted children, but you worried about how you’d care for a child without the support of a partner or the finances. 

But it wasn’t just you that had rules to follow. Copia had his own set. The rules also prevented him from having unprotected sex with anyone else. He had to provide for you and your future child monetarily. If he mistreated you in any way, he would be punished and possibly stripped of his title and position if the offense called for it. There were more, but they were for very specific scenarios that you didn’t see happening. But everything had to be very bureaucratic and thorough.

There was no doubt in your mind that Copia would hold up his end of the contract, but you felt better knowing he was also being held accountable and it didn’t all land on yourself. 

“Any questions?” Cardinal Nemo asked after he finished going over the last page of the contract.

“So we have a minimum a year to try for a baby naturally,” you said, flipping to the third page of the thick packet. “And then after that, we can decide to void this all or discuss with the Upper Clergy about possible fertility treatments.” You wanted to make sure you understood every detail of the contract, and that bit had surprised you. The Upper Clergy was notoriously cheap at times, so the fact they would be willing to pay for something like IVF surprised you.

“Yes, if after a year there have been no results, you and Papa may decide to void the contract and he could search for another Prime Mover, or you could decide to keep trying and meet with a council to go over fertility treatment options. If, after receiving treatment, there is still no heir, the contract will be automatically voided and Papa will have to pick another Prime Mover,” Cardinal Nemo explained.

Your eyes flick to Copia sitting across the conference table from you. He was reading through that part of the contract, brow scrunched in either concentration or disappointment. You couldn’t tell. As though he could sense you looking at him, he glanced at you and held your gaze. There was something in the way he looked at you like you were the answer to all his questions. It was so intimate and like nothing you ever felt before. You felt your cheeks begin to warm as a blush crept across your face and you quickly looked away. 

Before the previous night, you only ever spoke to him a handful of times before. You were never one to stray outside your circle of friends, and Copia was always in another circle. He was the reason you joined the Ministry. You had been Cirice’d at a show when he took over as the frontman after Terzo. He was still a Cardinal then, but you were so compelled by the way he held your hand and looked at you that you applied to join the Ministry as soon as you got home that night. He was always out of reach for you, though. Besides confessions and the occasional conversation in the library where you worked, you didn’t speak much. He was always too busy, away on tour, or conversing with much more important people than you. 

You never held it against him. You understood and had no expectations of anything from him when you joined. He was the reason you joined, but he wasn’t the reason you stayed and made a home there.

“If there’s nothing else…” the Cardinal said, holding out a pen to you.

You took it with a steady hand despite the nerves that were bubbling in your stomach. You were certain about this. 

His gloved fingers brushed yours briefly, but it was enough to send a spark through your veins. You watched as he looked through the contract one last time before signing his name under your own. He then slid the documents to Sister Imperator, who signed in the witness spaces with a single flourish of the pen. Cardinal Nemo took the contract back, pressed his monogrammed stamp into a red ink pad, and stamped each page. 

“Upon completion of the ritual, this contract will be binding,” he said as he tucked the contract in his briefcase. He dipped his head towards Copia. “Best of luck, Papa,” he said before turning to you and dipping his head again. “And to you, Prime Mover.” 

Hearing the title felt odd, but at the same time, very empowering. 

“Let me know once the ritual is complete,” Sister Imperator said to Copia. She then glanced at you. Her eyes were appraising as she took you in. She hummed to herself and then followed Cardinal Nemo out of the conference room, leaving you sitting there in confusion. What was she searching for in you? Was she trying to determine how worthy you were of baring an Emeritus heir?

“The fuck was that?” You asked quietly, looking over to Copia.

“Couldn’t tell you,” he said. “So…the ritual…”

“Right, that,” you said, your attention turning from Sister Imperator’s assessment of you to the matter at hand. “I have questions.”

“I would have been surprised if you didn’t. Ask away, Sorella.” 

You opened your mouth to ask your first question, but your mind went blank. A million questions were filling your mind. What did you ask first?

“Cat got your tongue?” He asked as his lips tugged up in an amused smirk. “How about I explain the ritual and you can ask whatever question I didn’t answer in my explanation?”

You nodded.

“The purpose of the ritual is to obtain Satan’s blessing,” Copia said. “And ask that our attempts are fruitful. We would perform this whenever you’re ovulating, so you will need to keep track of your cycle if you’re not already, assuming your cycle is normal. If not, we can get some help to figure that part out from the medical team.”

“No need. I’m pretty regular, like clockwork,” you said. “And I keep track. I’m-um” You blushed and silently berated yourself. Why were you blushing? You just entered a contract to have sex with him until you got pregnant. “I should start ovulating next week.” 

The tips of his ears turned pink. “We will perform it then. I’m sure you’ve guessed we will have sex during the ritual.”

You nodded. It wasn’t surprising. Sex-based rituals were plenty within the Ministry. 

“To start, a pentagram will be drawn in goat’s blood on the floor of the chapel. We’ll say some fancy phrases in Latin and then I’ll anoint you with oils and the blood on your stomach. We’ll get into the middle of the pentagram and do the do and I’ll say some blessing in Latin and then we’ll be finished,” Copia said.

“And then that’s it? We only have to do that once?”

“Si, cara, only once,” he answered. “But we can be intimate as many times as we want. And, as long as you want it, I want to fuck you every single day.”

You let out a surprised hiccup at his boldness. There was heat in his stare as he watched you. This side of him wasn’t one you saw, but you heard of. He was a dominate and passionate lover according to the Siblings who slept with him. 

“S-Sorry?”

“I think you heard me, cara,” he said, voice steady and firm but also gentle. “You told me last night that you find me desirable, well I also find you desirable.” 

It felt like flames were licking your cheeks the way they heated and trunk bright red. Suddenly, you had a hard time concentrating on the conversation as you pictured all the filthy things you wanted him to do to you. You didn’t know why you suddenly felt shy, like some kind of blushing virgin. You definitely weren’t a virgin and haven’t been in a very long time, but he drew something out of you that you couldn’t really explain.

You were yanked from your thoughts when one of his gloved things gently touched your hand from across the table. Head looking up from the table to him, you found him staring at you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he said. “That wasn’t my intention at all.”

“No, no, you’re fine,” you said, waving his apology off. “I was just…No, you didn’t make me uncomfortable at all, I promise.”

“Just what? If we are to make all this work, Sorella, we need to be upfront and honest about our thoughts and feelings.”

You wanted to roll your eyes. This guy just promised to fuck you every day and now he was being the wise old Papa. And he was right. After all, if they were to make their new…relationship…companionship…business partnership…work, they needed to be honest. You sighed. “Why do you have to be right? Okay, I was just thinking about all the things I wanted you to do to me,” you said, each word of your statement coming out faster and faster until it was a jumbled mess of nonsense.

Copia blinked and lips formed soundless words as he tried to work out what you said. You saw the moment it hit him, though. His pupils widened and his lips twitched before forming a smirk. “Is that so, cara? Well, why don’t you have dinner with me tonight in my suite and we’ll talk about all those things you want? And we’ll get to know each other a little better, si?” He pushed out of his chair and walked around the table towards the door. He stopped at your side and looked down at you. “Let’s say seven o’clock? How does that sound?”

“Sounds good to me,” you breathed as you looked up at him. 

He smiled and his hand cupped your cheek for a fleeting second before he left you alone in the room.

[nakamopapina]

I did a thing, with Birdie Bert.

He has maracas!🪇

The music is whatever you want it to be! (I personally think of ‘Papa don’t preach’, for some reason)

[akiymgc]

Woo Hoo

[cremefrappe13]

Reborn (Saint Vanilla & Child!OC)

Again, the Beast Ancients AU and character of Saint Vanilla belongs to @cuppajj

I wrote this mostly for fun and I think it was an okay job.

Trigger Warnings: mentions of death, major character death

Reborn (Saint Vanilla & Child! OC)

Saint Vanilla had finally done it. He “purified” (disintegrated) his child at last. His first and only child, Honeyflower, had finally been purified by him. He remembered the face of exhaustion and absolute terror the young girl had on her face when she embraced him in a hug, and the tears she had shed upon disappearing. However, Saint Vanilla had felt a sense of… emptiness after he “purified” her. Perhaps it was his fatherly instincts disappearing after watching his child disappear before his eyes? It could not be though… He stared at the ceiling as he tossed and turned in bed, thinking about his daughter. He tried to sleep, but his mind was faster than sleep itself as Saint Vanilla kept tossing and turning, trying to avoid all thoughts on his daughter and what he had done to her. However, what he did was right, was it not? Her soul was so pure, and the sooner she was purified, the lesser her soul would be tainted when she “ascended” right?

Right?

Saint Vanilla was not sure anymore, as he questioned his own decisions, but his Messiah complex did not allow him to think that he was wrong, let alone even consider the possibility he was feeling guilt over his actions. After all, Honeyflower had been the sweetest, most innocent thing before she ran away and let herself be tainted. However, she had already been purified, so there was no point in thinking about it anyway! He just had to move on and finish his mission of purifying every cookie on Earthbread and finally transcend to join her. Even so, Saint Vanilla still felt a pang of emptiness every once in a while without Honeyflower by his side, smiling up at him or clinging onto his robe for protection. Still… her screams and cries of pain as she was “purified” would never leave his mind. “Papa..! What’s happening to me?! It hurts… so much!” “Shhh, don’t worry my dear… you’re ascending, just like Papa will one day do too…” “But I don’t want to ascend! I want to stay here with you..! It hurts, make it stop please, MAKE IT STOP!!” “Honeyflower, don’t fight it, it’s for your own good.” “NO! I WANT TO STAY WITH PAPA!!!” “…” “PAPA! PAPA..!” “…” “Pa…pa…” “…” “…”

Those very moments kept replaying in Saint Vanilla’s mind, still haunting him in his dreams as he tossed and turned in bed, recalling his dear daughter’s cries for him to stop the process, or to end the pain, and then the silence. Either way… she was gone. For good. Saint Vanilla continued to do what he usually did, preaching the “good” message on how he would be the one who would transcend to redeem the world, leading the Lambs of Penance (his cult) and continuing to purify as many cookies as he could, trying not to think about his daughter who was waiting for him on the other side of his path of transcendence. Other than his occasional waves of emotion, Saint Vanilla’s progress with his plan went along smoothly. Well, until Strawberry Crepe had escaped the Vanilla Kingdom with Frigid Cacao’s son, but he would let the Lambs of Penance deal with that. Saint Vanilla was just planting an orchid in his kingdom when he noticed a child, all by herself. He turned to her and recognised her as one of the children of a member in the Lambs of Penance. Saint Vanilla noticed the girl disappear as quickly as she had come, and it sent a ripple of something through his heart… was it sorrow? Or was it guilt? Saint Vanilla could not tell as he pondered more about his daughter’s fate. Saint Vanilla from that point, started to become disillusioned, as he kept thinking he saw his daughter in fields of sunflowers, maybe even his own orchids, or sometimes behind a building. Occasionally, he would think that he heard Honeyflower playing in her room when he passed by it, but all Saint Vanilla found in the room was emptiness and a hollow echo of his daughter from the remnants and traces she left behind in her “purification”. He would always sigh and try to shake it off, but even he could not outrun the clutches of guilt and grief, always being unable to ignore his mind’s tricks on him, making Saint Vanilla feel rather out of it. Well, at least until he saw a small girl, eerily similar to his daughter. The way she had ran amongst the field of sunflowers in his kingdom, laughing with the other children whose parents were Lambs of Penance. It was as if Honeyflower had been reborn into a new life. A better one, without the constant threat of Saint Vanilla trying to purify her, and without others pushing for her to be purified. Saint Vanilla, as he watched this from his orchid staff, felt a father’s relief, yet his own selfish desires took over him, wanting to “purify” this version of his daughter once again. And so the same, tiring cycle repeated: Born, live, “purified” Born, live, “purified” Born… live… and be “purified” It was just the same cycle of futility all over again. No matter how many times Honeyflower may or may not have been reborn, if Saint Vanilla ever saw a smidge of his daughter in other cookies, they might as well kiss their life goodbye, as he would relentlessly pursue them, to finally “purify” all traces of Honeyflower from this world. After all, a good father always wants the best for his daughter, right?

[akiymgc]