#also this would be when i would find out that he's part of the emeritus bloodline

[copiawife]

something i did like about my original story for my ship was the idea of us getting stuck together in a place for an undetermined amount of time being the only way we would actually broach the tension and confess feelings so i'm trying to cook up a way that could happen in my lore now ehe

[da-rulah]

Rituale Septem - Day 6: Greed

Pairing: (Swiss x Dewdrop x f!reader)

Summary: Terzo takes a step back from guiding you in the ritual, but he fails to tell you why. He sends his Ghouls to you instead - luckily for you, those Ghouls know just what you need to forget about Papa Emeritus III. If even just for a moment...

Rating: Mature, MDNI 18+

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: Angst, threesome, fingering, oral (f receiving), squirting, p in v sex, double penetration, some m+m elements (potentially a sexual awakening...), double creampie, mind break, cum eating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation 

AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

A/N: Just popping here to say again, the Ghouls all have silver masks and are trainees under Terzo's reign for the time being. I don't know Terzo's Ghouls well enough to be able to write their characters. Thank you for understanding - Enjoy!🖤

Prev: Day 5 - Envy | Next: Day 7: Pride

October 30th 

What a fucking idiota. 

Terzo reprimanded himself as he stood in the doorway to his office. After a night of sleeplessness, tossing and turning with images of you screwing his half-brother or Satan-forbid, your tear-stained cheeks he’d missed when you watched him railing Christine in front of you, he was exhausted. It was karmic, and he knew that. He deserved it.  

He stared at the chairs in front of his desk, reliving the events of yesterday. He knew the mistakes he’d made, and he wasn’t sure how to make up for them. But Primo had been extremely useful and given him direction, at least for now. He would be taking a step back; you didn’t need him to complete your goal. 

“Good morning, Papa,” Christine greeted from behind him, somewhat hesitantly as if she knew of his fragile state of mind. Terzo jumped even at that, turning his head as if shaken from a dream.  

“Oh, uh... sì, buongiorno,” he dismissed her, stepping into his office and heading for his desk. Christine gingerly followed him in, standing between those damn chairs and the door.  

“Did, um... Did you talk to Sister ____?” she asked, worry in her tone.  

Terzo was instantly transported back to the moment he’d found you in Copia’s workshop, walking into... that. 

“Um... not exactly,” he sighed. Sister Christine rolled her eyes. 

“Papa, seriously? You can’t just hide with your tail between your legs, you should-” 

“She was a little busy,” he interrupted, sternly. “Don’t worry, Christine. I got what was coming to me.”  

Christine’s brows furrowed in confusion, her shoulders sagging in defeat. She saw the pained look on his face, how different he looked today. His face looked puffy with a lack of sleep, his paints thinly applied and not to the usual crisp standard. Even his hair wasn’t styled so neatly, parting in the middle and falling over his forehead. She wasn’t sure what had happened when he’d gone to find you yesterday, but she also knew she shouldn’t ask.  

“O-okay... Well, Sister Imperator left a note for you on my desk this morning,” Terzo didn’t hide the groan of disdain at the mention of Imperator, “I know, I know... She requires your assistance in setting up the Great Hall for the All Hallow’s Ball tomorrow. Apparently, your opinions on decorative party supplies are a necessity.”  

“Va bene, (Okay,) I’ll go soon. I just need to do something first... Would you leave me?” he asked.  

“Of course,” she nodded with a sympathetic smile, and left him to his own solitude.  

Terzo dug around his desk for his stationary set, pulling out a clean parchment and his expensive ink pen, and began to write...  

Sorella ______,  

I have every belief you can finish this on your own. You do not need my assistance, or my guidance. With just two sins left, I’m positive you can achieve what you wish for. 

Enjoy the Ball tomorrow evening.  

Papa Emeritus III 

He had hoped his belief in you would shine through his brief note. Apologies felt like an insult to your intelligence, and any kind of confession of feelings felt too distracting to your task at hand. This would have to do. 

He folded the parchment, sealing it with a fresh wax seal, and got up to leave, heading towards the Great Hall. He would hand the note to one of his Ghouls on his way and ask them to drop it off, leaving you to complete whichever of the two sins you chose today in peace, and without his interference. 

He owed you that much, he thought. 

The knock at your door that morning startled you, completely unexpected. A part of you, childishly, hoped that it was him... Maybe he’d come to apologise, giving you an opportunity to do the same. Hell, even if he showed up pretending nothing had happened and wanted to jump right back into the ritual, you’d let him. You just wished you’d see his face on the other side of that door; the rest you’d figure out.  

But you were sorely disappointed.  

Instead, Swiss and Dewdrop stood shoulder to shoulder, a piece of folded parchment in Swiss’ hand. 

“Good morning, Sister ______!” Swiss chirped, entirely too giddily for such an early call. Dewdrop remained as silent and stoic as ever. 

“Oh... Hi.” You sounded disappointed even to your own ears. Swiss’ signature smile dropped, and behind his mask his eyes squinted in suspicion.  

“Well... okay, then...” he shook it off, unsure if he should pry. “Got a thing for ya!” he held the parchment out to you, notably with the wax seal facing up and proudly displaying Papa’s crest indented into it. You stared at it for a beat too long, and Swiss shook it in front of your eyes, awakening you from your own analytical trance. You took it from him, stepping back into your apartment and dropping lazily with a huff onto your couch. Swiss invited himself in, sitting on the opposite end whilst Dew hovered in the doorway, shutting the door behind him.  

You popped the seal on the paper, unfolding it to see Papa’s handwriting in a short and frankly abrupt note. Your eyes skimmed it, reading and re-reading over and over, and getting visibly more annoyed with each read through. 

“I have every belief you can finish this on your own.” 

On your own.  

Was he fucking serious? He was just... abandoning you? No apologies, no explanations... he couldn’t even be bothered to show his fucking face today, getting his Ghouls to do his dirty work?  

“You fucking asshole...” you muttered, screwing the note up tightly in your fist and throwing it to the floor, slamming your back against the couch and folding your arms like a toddler in a tantrum.  

An awkward silence fell over the room, losing yourself in your own thoughts again. So, he was just going to leave you to perform pride and greed alone, with no guidance, not even a hint at what the hell you could possibly do for either one? He'd ruined it. He was spoiling the entire ritual, after you’d done everything you could to stay on task and with just two days left.  

Your mind worked itself into a dizzying array of possible scenarios you might be able to play out for the remaining sins, trying desperately to think of something, anything you could do today for either one. Nothing stuck, too complicated by the confusing mix of anger and disappointment in the pit of your stomach. 

You’d almost forgotten about the two Ghouls in your presence until Swiss spoke up. 

“Sister, are you alright? What did he do?” Swiss’ hand rested on your shoulder, bringing you back to reality.  

“He’s just... leaving me to it,” you spat. Swiss was even more confused.  

“To what?” he asked. “I don’t understand...” he looked up to Dew, who just shrugged with a shake of his head.  

And so, you explained. You told them of the ritual, of each sin you’d performed – conveniently leaving out of course the part where you were now harbouring some very confusing feelings about Papa Emeritus III – and what it was all for. To your surprise, Swiss and Dew listened along attentively, without judgement. Dew came to sit beside you on the armrest of the couch too, his attention on you and allowing you to vent. You’d half expected some clever quips to come from Swiss but no, they both just listened. 

“And now, for some reason, he’s just abandoned me and said ‘okay, ______, figure it out yourself’.” Of course, you had an idea what that reason was... clearly you’d pissed him off, but he’d started it when he dove dick first into your friend and laughed at you for having any kind of negative reaction!  

Reality set in, and tears welled in your eyes. You really were going to fumble this ritual, now. You wouldn’t get to hear the Dark One’s voice, you wouldn’t get the guidance you had been so desperate for and frankly, you were beginning to question once again your place in the Ministry. You may as well start packing your bags now... 

Swiss and Dew shared a look you missed; one of sympathy, like they both wanted to do something to console you. They didn’t want to see a sister lose her faith, particularly not one as kind to the Ghouls as you.  

“Well hey, maybe we can help think of something?” Swiss slapped Dew’s back from behind you to encourage him. He nodded vigorously, placing his hand on your other shoulder. “What sins do you have left?” 

“Pride and greed...” Your voice shook with unshed tears. “What the hell am I going to do?” 

Swiss thought for a moment, shuffling closer to you on the couch to wrap an arm around you and pull you to lay on his chest. He rubbed his hand up and down your arm while you burrowed your face into his neck, allowing yourself a moment to collect yourself, take some breaths.  

“Pride is a tough one, that’s about thinking of yourself before another, like being narcissistic or vain, but it can come down to something as simple as self-respect. How you embody that in sin, I don’t really know. I always thought it was a stupid one. What’s wrong with loving yourself, hm? Never got God’s problem with that. Think he just didn’t want people thinking they were better than him...” he scoffed. “Ironic that he made pride a sin when there’s never been a deity with a higher superiority complex.” 

You chuckled at that; he was right. But it wasn’t giving you much confidence in how to perform this... 

“But greed is easier. That’s about having an excessive, selfish desire to acquire something... Like power or money. Could be... pleasure...” he hesitated there, looking down at you through his mask. “I mean, you could... desire excessive pleasure?” he asked.  

You sat up, brain ticking over what he’d said. He was right again, of course. You could...  

“I think that, if you wanted to... we could help with that?” Swiss tested the waters, looking up at Dew who nodded slowly in agreement. “Only if you want us to, of course...”  

“You’d do that for me?” you asked, sitting up and looking between the two Ghouls. The idea of it far from horrified you. In fact, you had been a little disappointed after your encounter with Phantom that you were too exhausted to find out what Swiss and Dew could do for you. And let’s face it, you were running out of options and time. You had no doubt at all in their ability to enact this sin with you, and you trusted them enough to do so.  

“Sweetheart...” Swiss moved in closer, his lips hovering by your ear, tone deepening significantly, “Do you have any idea how disappointed we were when we realised our dear Phantom had exhausted you the other day?” 

Swiss’ breath was impossibly hot against your neck, spreading goosebumps over your skin where he moved your hair behind your shoulder with one finger. Dew slid onto the couch on your other side, trapping you between the two of them. He stayed silent as he always did, but his eyes sparkled with an interest that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.  

“I-I was disappointed... too...” you stuttered as you felt Swiss’ teeth nipping at your ear lobe, Dew’s hand coming to rest on your knee and drawing delicate patterns into your skin where the hem of your skirt couldn’t quite reach. This was moving fast, but frankly, you didn’t have time to hesitate – you'd only talk yourself out of it, and you didn’t want to do that. 

“We could... make you feel good, Sister...” Swiss teased, pressing his lips to the spot on your neck under your ear that sent a wave of arousal through your body. “Just say yes...” he whispered into your neck, drawing patterns with the tip of his nose while Dew’s fingertips travelled up your thigh.  

You had to admit, you were easily affected by the Ghouls and their small gestures of affection. At a time when affection was exactly what you needed, you weren’t all that concerned where you got it from. Clearly, it wouldn’t come from the one place you wish it would... And this served a purpose, didn’t it? A means to an end, if you will. Why deny yourself the pleasure? Why deny yourself all the work you’d already put in?  

“Fuck it...” you breathed, rolling your head back as Dew attached his lips to the other side of your neck, suckling softly at the skin where previous bruises had yellowed.  

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we intend to...” Swiss promised, a new fervour in the way he kissed your neck, his hand coming to grip your waist where Dew was pressed against you.  

You were surrounded by them both, their hands wandering, their mouths working you to a heightened state of arousal. Dew’s hand began to squeeze at your inner thigh under your skirt, his nails scratching the skin and coaxing your thighs apart for him.  

You turned your head to face Dew, his eyes hooded and hazy behind the glint of his silver mask. You could see him biting his lip, searching your face for any protests while his hands squeezed and scratched higher and higher up the inside of your thigh but he found nothing. Instead, with a particular sharp scratch to the skin you found yourself whining and latching your lips to his, pulling him to you by his uniform. Dew groaned, shoving his palm against your clothed mound for you to rut yourself again.  

Swiss chuckled against your neck, sinking his teeth into the flesh just enough to cause a sharpness, never enough to burst the skin. You weren’t sure you’d mind if he did at this point, but instead he laved his tongue over the spot, gripping at your waist even tighter and grinding his crotch into your hipbone.  

If anyone had seen the three of you right now, they’d accuse you of being horny teenagers, dry humping and making out unrestricted and messy. Truth be told you allowed yourself to lose control, trusting that the two Ghouls entrapping you would take care of you.  

Dew’s hand pressed so tightly against your heat, pressing your panties into you and dampening them on your arousal. You ground your hips as you kissed him, tongues dancing together whilst shockwaves pulsed through your clit. Your whimpers were swallowed by Dew’s mouth, earning a low growl from deep within his chest. 

Swiss’ cock had hardened in his pants, still grinding into your hip from the angle he was sat beside you. He’d curled himself around you in a way that allowed him access still to your neck, stretched to accommodate Dew on the other side. He purred into your neck, his instincts taking over.  

“Sister, tell us what you want...” he pleaded, reaching to grope at your breast through your habit. You parted from Dew and turned your head to him.  

“Make me feel good... Until I beg you to stop,” you grinned wildly, grabbing him by his waistcoat and crashing your lips to his. Dew watched hungrily, his hand becoming more calculated and switching to his fingers circling your clit over your panties. Your body writhed where you sat, overwhelmed with the feeling of hands everywhere, pleasure tingling through every nerve.  

As your tongue swirled with Swiss’, he unbuttoned your habit, reaching underneath to push his hand under the cup of your bra – another matching piece that Dew was marvelling now he could see your panties under his hand. Swiss broke your kiss, getting a good look at your body now exposed to him. 

“Such a pretty set, sweetheart,” he practically sang, ogling the deep green embroidery of the set you’d put on today, still dressing up for whoever had been lucky enough to see them today. “You put this on for your Papa?” he teased.  

Now, logically you knew Swiss meant no harm with that question. He wasn’t teasing maliciously.  

And yet, somewhat illogically, the mere mention of his name was enough to rouse an anger in you that had you slapping your hand over his lips and holding him still in front of you.  

“Don’t fucking mention him. Just give me what I want, Swiss,” you demanded, resigning to your greed already. You pushed him with all your might, ignoring Dew for the moment and forcing Swiss onto his back. His eyes sparkled behind his mask with mischief, hands reaching for your bare thighs as you straddled him and ripped your unbuttoned habit from your arms, throwing it to the floor. 

Dew quickly moved with you, sitting himself between Swiss’ ankles and shuffling until his chest met your back. His hands gripped your hips and sat you down on Swiss’ bulge, controlling the way you ground your pussy against him. For all of his silence, Dew’s actions spoke volumes. He guided you as you rutted against Swiss, taking your pleasure while he nipped into your bare shoulder.  

With a rhythm created, Dew could focus his hands on your body, removing your bra and pinching at your pebbled nipples. Swiss groaned beneath you, the sight of you mixed with the grind on his cock an intoxicating cocktail.  

“Dew... Dew, get these off her, man,” he pants, pinging at the waistband of your panties. Dew complied, dropping his hands to them and ripping without hesitation, tearing into the material and flinging it elsewhere. “Hope you didn’t like them too much, sweetheart,” Swiss smirked, undoing the zipper of his trousers between you and hissing when you rubbed your folds over his knuckles as he did.  

As Swiss began to undress himself, Dew took it upon himself to make sure you weren’t going a second without stimulation. From behind you, he slid his hands under you, pushing his fingers forwards through your soaked folds until his fingertips circled your clit. Your back arched at the sensation, reaching behind you and around the back of his neck to pull his chest against you. He alternated between dragging his fingers through your slick folds and circling your clit over and over whilst you dug your nails into the back of his head, pulling his lips down to yours to muffle your moans in a desperate kiss.  

Beneath you, Swiss managed to remove his waistcoat and shirt and push his pants down enough to release his length. He stroked himself as he watched the display above him, seeing you get closer and closer to your first orgasm. He began to talk you through it, coaxing you more and more while Dew’s fingers took on a mind of their own.  

“Feels good, huh, baby?” he laughed after a particularly lavish moan escaped your lips and your hips bucked against Dew’s fingers. “Push ‘em inside, Dew. Let her feel you,” he encouraged. Dew did just that, slipping two fingers inside your heat from behind you. You cursed into his mouth, clenching around the intrusion that felt so fucking welcome you almost toppled over the edge just at that.  

Dew growled, curling his fingers as he fucked them in and out of you. The coil inside you was tightening impossibly fast, and within a minute you knew you were set to burst. 

“Are you gonna cum on his fingers, sweetheart? Come on... Give us one,” Swiss cheered you on, stroking himself and using his free hand to cup your breast, pinching your nipple to punctuate his words. When you bucked and writhed, orgasm finally hitting you he praised you, “There we go, hm? Good girl... Cum on his fingers baby, that’s it...” 

You whined and clenched on Dew, biting down on his bottom lip and he fucked his hand into you to get you through it. When the pleasure ebbed away, you leaned back against him, turning your head to look down at Swiss who was smirking, slowly stroking at his now leaking cock. Now able to see his chest, you realised just how built he was underneath his shirt and waistcoat. A thin layer of chest hair contoured his chest and abdomen, right down to where he was touching himself; it drove you wild. 

“Good?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.  

“Mhm. Want more,” you grinned, bending at the waist to hover over him, your hand swatted his away as you leaned.  

“More?” he teased, “Greedy little girl...” You giggled, beginning to stroke him and pushing your lips to his to silence him. Behind you, Dew was busy taking in the view as he sucked on the fingers he’d dove inside you, cleaning himself off. From where you bent over Swiss, he had the perfect view of your rounded and still bruised ass and your exposed, glistening cunt. Tasting you on his fingers ignited something inside him, growling as he licked every last drop.  

Swiss noticed his friend’s eyes trained on your core, hearing his growls and broke your kiss to nod in his direction and show you what you’d caused. You followed his gaze and watched the man who was hypnotised by your taste... 

“I think he likes you,” Swiss flirted, “why don’t you let him have a taste, sweetheart? I’m sure he can give you another with his tongue...” A deeper, louder growl came from Dew’s throat. “See?” 

Looking behind you, you saw Dew’s gaze had fallen on yours as if waiting for permission... “Don’t stop until I’m cumming, Dew,” you demanded, wiggling your hips in front of him.  

Like a man possessed, Dew shuffled back on the couch and bent down, shoving his masked face into your ass and laving his tongue over your core. You fell forward at the force, slamming to Swiss’ chest where he held you tightly against him. Laying against him you could do nothing to pump his length in your hand, but Swiss didn’t mind. Plenty of time for that later... For now, he was enjoying the look on your face as Dew dove into your pussy, sucking and licking and nipping at your clit.  

“Fuck, Dew... So good...” you whined; Dew’s grip on your ass tightened, his nails burning into the bruises still littering your skin. By now the pain of the bruises didn’t bother you so much, only heightening the depravity you found yourself in. Your mind wondered over the last few days, how you’d been used and fucked every single day in the filthiest ways. You’d tried things you never had before, surprised yourself with new kinks and confidence and allowed yourself the freedom to sleep with whoever aroused you at the time. You’d never felt so empowered... 

The memories served to drive you mad with arousal, wanting nothing more than to cum again on Dew’s tongue. Once again, you found yourself close to an end, rutting your hips against his chin. The movement of your hips created short, small ripple-effect moments through your body that were enough to give Swiss a little bit of friction, cock still wrapped up in your hand. He hummed in delight, pressing his lips to yours in a messy kiss.  

“How does she taste, Dew?” he called down to his friend, knowing full well he wouldn’t asnwer with words. Dew growled again, lost in his own greed. He needed more of you, all of you. Your taste was sending him on a straight road to insanity. “Good, it seems...” he smiled sadistically.  

Dew was becoming feral behind you as you rutted against his chin. His tongue dove into you, the nose of his mask adding to your pleasure and winding your coil back up once again until you lost it... You cried out against Swiss’ chest, your hand squeezing his length between the two of you earning a hiss and groan of pleasure. You felt your pussy convulsing, a wave of fresh arousal briefly squirting from you to land on Dew’s tongue as he slurped and drank everything you gave him. 

Dew delivered a spank to your ass as he sat up, licking his lips and wiping his chin of your mess.  

“Unholy fuck, did you squirt on him?” Swiss asked, amazed as you lay on him, catching your breath. You just giggled in response, words failing you. “Shit, I wanna make you do that...” 

“Then... you’ll... need to fuck me, first...” you taunted between breaths.  

“You got it, sweetheart,” he kissed you again, reaching between you both to take his cock from you, only to line it up with your entrance and slowly, begin to push inside you.  

Dew watched on from behind you, slowly undressing himself as he watched Swiss’ cock sink further and further into you. He was surprised at himself, so turned on watching another man sink into where he had just been burying his tongue and fingers. He thought he might feel possessive, jealous even, but he wanted nothing more than to see you fall apart on his friend. He was enjoying this...  

When Swiss bottomed out, he couldn’t help but whimper at the feeling. You felt so warm, so wet around him. Thanks to Dew’s work, you had been able to quickly accommodate him, slick enough to take him without any issues. You sat up, pressing your palms to his chest and rolling your hips against him. Immediately, pleasure returned and that spot inside you fluttered when he grazed it. You needed him, you needed more. Always more, more, more...  

Swiss’s hips met yours, rolling against you over and over. He watched where the two of you connected, seeing his cock disappearing over and over, glistening with your juices. In the space between your thighs and his cock, he could vaguely make out Dew behind you, now completely nude and stroking himself in time with his thrusts.  

“Fuck...” Swiss breathed, turned on at the sight. “Hey, hey baby...” he tapped at your cheek, getting you to open your eyes you’d closed in bliss and look down at him, “Think Dew needs a hand...”  

You looked behind you, seeing Dew completely nude save for his mask, and fucking into his fist much like Copia had been at your feet yesterday. And you got an idea...  

“This isn’t fair...” you whined, slapping a hand down against Swiss’ chest in protest. You stopped moving your hips but he continued for the both of you, refusing to stop. 

“W-what?” he asked.  

“Want more... Want you both,” you whimpered, reaching behind you to stroke at Dew’s cock. He shivered at the contact, and the thought of being buried in you like Swiss was. He wanted you too... 

“B-both of us? Like...” Swiss stuttered, now stilling his hips reluctantly.  

“Inside me, together. Fuck, I need it... Please?” you begged, looking between them both. The Ghouls looked past you and at each other, seeming to have a silent conversation while you waited impatiently. The thought of having both of them inside you; it both scared and excited you. Were you sure you could take them both? Would it hurt? Maybe they wouldn’t be comfortable with it? 

“Dew, if you’re not comfortable man, I get it...” Swiss reasoned; in his mind, he was more than happy to oblige. His cock even twitched at the thought, which came as a surprise to him. He’d never been in such close proximity to another man sexually but he wasn’t opposed to the idea in the slightest.  

Dew gave Swiss a look, paired with a slight twist of his head and started to slowly, once again, stroke himself; confirming that the idea was enough to interest him. 

“Shit, okay... okay, yeah. You think you can take us, baby?” Swiss’ attention came back onto you.  

“With the right prep,” you smirked, looking back at Dew. “Will you help, Dew?”  

He nodded in understanding, his hand sliding between your ass cheeks and further down, until his fingertips met where you sat impaled on Swiss’ cock. Swiss watched intently, his body twitching when Dew’s fingertips came into contact with his shaft. Slowly, Dew pushed in one finger as Swiss pushed himself in too, using the movement to aid the stretch of added girth. You saw fucking stars...  

“Sathanas...” you squealed, and the two stilled in panic. “No, no... don’t stop. It’s good... so fucking good,” you reassured, and the two men continued... In and out, over and over while you got slicker, messier for both of them like your body knew what was coming and wanted nothing more than to get you there. 

Before long, Dew attempted to push another digit in, and slowly but surely, he managed to do the same. Your body was accommodating them both nicely, nothing too rushed, still just slow and gentle. The look on Swiss’ face was a picture, screwed up in his attempts to remain focussed, to not burst into a fit of rutting as hard and fast as he possibly could with how good it felt to be sheathed inside you and have Dew’s fingers pressed against him. 

When you were ready, Dew added a third finger, stretching you to a point you most certainly never had before. His wrist ached at the angle, and so he pushed gently on your shoulder until you leaned over, hovering above Swiss and giving him much better access. The new position somehow made it easier on you too, spreading your legs further to accommodate both intrusions.  

“I... I think I’m ready,” you said once Dew and Swiss had made sure to slowly push inside as deep as possible while you shivered and spasmed at the feeling. “Please, Dew...” 

“He’s coming baby, just a little longer, okay? Wanna be sure...” Swiss reassured, peppering kisses to your neck where he lay. You nodded, letting them work you open a little longer, your slick gathering between them both and creating an easier glide as the seconds passed. Eventually, they were satisfied you were prepared. 

Dew looked over your shoulder to Swiss, checking in one final time that he was still okay with this. Swiss just smirked back at him, uttering a “Go ahead, Dew.” 

To make the initial entry easier on you, Swiss pulled himself out when Dew’s fingers left you. Dew used that same hand to coat himself in arousal, and finally, the two of them lined up beside each other, their tips just barely grazing and yet... Both of them gasped at the touch. The sound didn’t escape you; and by the look on Swiss’ face, it was certainly a pleasant experience. 

Slowly, the two of them pressed into you, sliding gently to fill you together. Dew’s hands gripped your hips, nails digging into the flesh while Swiss squeezed at your thighs, both having to restrain themselves. For you, the feeling of being stretched and filled to your limits was so damn good, you moaned so wantonly that it vibrated through your body and reached them both, tormenting them until eventually they bottomed out together.  

“Shit, Dew... You good, man?” Swiss cried, unable to tear his eyes away from where both their cocks pressed tightly against each other inside you. He missed Dew’s frantic nodding, but at the lack of protest he knew he was safe to continue.  

They began to build a leisurely pace, moving together in sync and dragging themselves over your g-spot in unison. All you could do was grip onto Swiss’ biceps for dear life, and try not to fall apart where you knelt. You’d never been pushed to this limit before, never taken so much at once but with their careful preparation they had managed to make it as easy as possible for you.  

“More... Please, want more,” you hummed, desperate for a faster pace, something rougher and more punishing. You wanted another fucking orgasm... Sure enough, greed had overtaken you.  

“Greedy girl,” Swiss growled, beginning to rock a little faster, mismatching his pace with Dew. Dew tried to keep up, but fell a little behind in rhythm. Surprisingly, that felt better than them both being in sync... Now, they were both hitting your g-spot, one after the other, in a similar rhythm to a heartbeat.  

You were crying out to both of them, expletives and wild moans between mutterings of their names filling the air around you to a backdrop of slick and sloppy noises as both men fucked into you, harder and harder... Dew couldn’t help his own moans, surrounded by you and Swiss at the same time, a whole new feeling he’d never experienced but unholy shit it felt incredible. He didn’t know another cock against his own could feel like this, never knew how much he’d love this.  

Swiss was thinking much the same, enjoying the drag of Dew’s hardness against his own. Both Ghouls were losing their minds inside you. Swiss released his grip on your thighs in search of Dew’s instead, pulling him closer, needing more of him in some form... Dew dropped one of his hands then, able to hold onto both him and you as the two kept pounding into you. 

“D-Dew... Oh, shit, why does this feel – ahhh – so good?” Swiss cried, throwing his head back into the couch. Dew roared behind you, curling his body to press against your back and sandwiching you between the sweaty bodies either side of you. You moved a little to the side, to give them room to get closer to each other, something you could sense they definitely needed while they rutted into you with reckless abandon.  

“C-can I kiss you, Dew? Fuck man, I don’t know, need more...” he pleaded through grit teeth. Dew pushed himself harder against you both and met Swiss in a bruising kiss neither man had seen coming when this all began. But it felt right, it felt good.  

Your head lay on Swiss’ chest, watching the two of them making out as their cocks filled and stretched you. It was all so much, a kind of bliss you’d never encountered. You could feel your end coming quickly, tearing through you as they resigned themselves to the mercy of the other. You gave them no warning, unable to fathom a sentence when a third burst of pleasure soared through your body.  

If Swiss wanted you to squirt for him, he’d certainly got his wish. You gushed on the pair of them, violently shaking at the force of your orgasm. The two of them broke their kiss and Swiss lost his mind, feeling your cunt flooding him.  

“Fucking hell, I gotta cum... I can’t hold this anymore. Dew, do you mind? Can I cum inside her?” You heard him babble as your brain clouded, coming down slowly while you convulsed and spasmed. You absolutely didn’t mind if he did, but would Dew? He was still buried in you too, after all...  

But Dew chuckled breathlessly and tightened his grip on Swiss’ hand, leaning in to kiss him again. He kept his pace up; a sure-fire way of making sure Swiss came inside you, and in turn, on him.  

It didn’t take him long once he got confirmation, stilling deep inside you, pressed against your cervix as his cum spilled from his cock and coated not only your walls, but Dew’s shaft too. He jumped and pulsed, desperate howls lost to Dew’s kiss. Dew kept going, slower than before but still rutting against Swiss and sending ripples of a dull buzz through you while it served to prolong Swiss’s end.  

Spent and exhausted, Swiss lay back, letting his limbs drop to the couch for a moment before he curled them around you, holding you to him still inside you. He wouldn’t remove himself yet, not while Dew was still plunging into you. He felt his spend dripping down his own length and gathering at the base of both his and Dew’s cocks and pictured what that would look like, smiling to himself dumbly as he enjoyed the overstimulation.  

Behind you, Dew had sat back up on his knees to get a better look and yes, Swiss had been right. Where Dew still rocked into you, Swiss’ spend was leaking and mixing with your own. It was the filthiest thing Dew had ever seen, and it shoved him violently into an orgasm of his own, stilling deep inside you like Swiss just had with a strangled roar. 

“Fuck, fill her up, Dew...” Swiss encouraged him, talking him through his orgasm as if speaking words that Dew couldn’t. “She needs you, Dew. Fill. Her. Up.” He spat through grit teeth, while Dew’s cock slid against his own and pushed him into oversensitivity. Dew did as he was told, emptying his load into you.  

The three of you lay atop each other, spent and exhausted. Neither Ghoul made a move to pull out of you just yet, regaining some strength and regulating their heart rates before they could even think of moving. So, you lay squashed between the two, blissfully floating in euphoria.  

“Well, uh... Satan be damned, that was... different,” Swiss laughed, still partially breathless.  

“Felt so good, guys... You’ve no idea,” you hummed, affectionately reaching behind you to pat at Dew’s hand on top of Swiss’.  

“For us too, sweetheart. Can’t believe you’re a squirter...” You swatted his chest weakly with a dumb smile, earning a chuckle from Dew. “Just wish I coulda tasted that... Dew seemed to enjoy you,” he sighed. He had hoped to taste you at some point, but things had moved in a different direction before he could and he was happy to just go with the flow, give you what you wanted.  

And then, he got an idea.  

“Hey, sweetheart?” he asked timidly. You raised your head from his chest with a quiet “hmm?”, waiting for whatever he wanted to ask. “Is that the most orgasms you’ve had in one sitting?” he asked, curiously.  

“Well, I’ve had three in one before but yes, never more than three. Gets kinda sensitive...” you laughed, settling back on his chest, content to lay there in peace with Dew. 

“Well... the first two were mostly just Dew. I never got to give you one of my own,” he pouted. “You think you could take one more?”  

Your head popped back up, looking into Swiss’ eyes and thinking over his proposition. You certainly did feel sensitive, but the idea intrigued you. Could you take another? You weren’t sure, but you’d be willing to let him try...  

“Um... maybe?” you questioned. Swiss smirked. 

“Hey Dew, would it be... just terrible... if I made sure our darling Sister of Sin was sufficiently cleaned up? I think we’ve made a mess...” he chewed on his lip, waiting for an indication from the silent Ghoul behind you.  

Dew sat up then, removing himself from you and taking a look at the mess the three of you had indeed made. He checked back in with Swiss, nodding. 

“Ah, so we did make a mess. Well, sweetheart, I'd like to offer my cleaning services,” he smirked cheekily.  

“I think that’s only fair...” you quipped.  

Swiss sat up, still holding you to him but transferring your weight back onto the couch cushion as he carefully removed himself from you too. You did your best to contract your walls, holding whatever you could inside you for the moment. Now, you sat upright, legs hanging over the edge of the couch and slouched lazily against Dew’s bare chest beside you. Swiss stood up, removing the pants that still clung to his legs by his knees, and then took up a position between your thighs, hooking your legs over his shoulders.  

He looked down at your core, and could see the mess they’d made; covered in slick, cum and puffed up from the relentless pounding. You looked delectable.  

Swiss dove in, gently at first, with his tongue lapping around your core instead of directly centre. You still writhed at the pleasure of it, enjoying the feeling as he tasted the mixture of the three of you on his tongue. Beside you, you felt Dew’s chest tense, his eyes intently trained on Swiss’ disappearing tongue. This was turning him on again, and he was yet to soften from the sex itself... With a little fuel left in the tank, he began to stoke his length, hissing at the sensitivity. 

As Swiss’ tongue dragged over your clit for the first time, you naturally clenched, a small amount of the cum you held inside you slipping out. Swiss dove in to catch it on his tongue, careful to make sure Dew saw it sat there before he swallowed it down. He’d never done anything like this before and part of him worried Dew would find it disgusting, to eat both his and Dew’s cum from you but now Dew’s hand moved quicker, he knew it was having the opposite effect.  

He hummed in satisfaction at the taste, continuing to assault your clit with his tongue and every so often having to clean up another small amount you’d involuntarily released when things got too sensitive. Dew kept stroking himself, his hips jumping if he spent too long on his sensitive tip. You wanted badly to help him, but there was no strength to lift your arms by your sides.  

Vaguely, the pleasure began to stack up again... you were no longer unsure if you could reach a fourth orgasm; you knew you could. Swiss would just need to be gentle – and somehow, he understood that.  

“Dew, I can’t lie, man... we taste good together,” he teased, watching as Dew bit his lip. “You wanna try?” he snickered. Dew nodded emphatically.  

Swiss brought his fingers up to your centre, pushing them easily inside given you’d not long had two decent sized cocks inside you, and gathered the rest of what you were keeping on them. Then he raised them to Dew’s lips, who bent to meet him halfway, and sucked the mess off them.  

Swiss held his fingers up for him as he dove back into your core, now focussing his attention solely on your clit. You whined tiredly at the sensitivity, but shit, you were close again after watching the display beside you. Dew’s hand sped significantly, making sure he sucked every last drop of cum from Swiss’ fingers. He groaned as a second orgasm came closer; he had wanted to wait for your last orgasm to cum with you, but that was looking unlikely now. He just needed a release again. 

He fell back against the couch as his cock spurted another load, clearer this time and far less than he’d emptied into you, but it felt good enough that he rolled his eyes back and had to drop his hand from the overstimulation while his hips bucked out of control.  

Swiss giggled into your core, suckling at your clit a little harder and enjoying the noises you were making. You barely recognised yourself, squealing so highly in overstimulation as your body went stiff, letting his tongue work you over and over until finally, you crashed for one last time.  

Dew caught you as your body slid to the side and into his chest, holding you and shushing you as you hiccupped in a much quieter orgasm than before, too spent and broken for anything too powerful. Your thighs pushed Swiss’ head away as they came together, shielding you from any more overstimulation. He sat back on his heels, pleased with his work as he licked the remnants of you, himself and Dew from his chin. Quietly, you came down again in Dew’s arms, your body jolting with short little bursts of electricity until you finally stilled.  

Four orgasms had taken its toll on you, and whilst the last of them hadn’t been as earth shattering as the first three, it still left you exhausted and weak. Swiss and Dew could see it in you, and allowed you to curl up into them for a while so you could relax, rest up, and get the aftercare you needed from them both. 

The Ghouls spent the rest of the day with you, having cleaned you up – properly, this time. With an actual shower... – and taken good care of you. Swiss had made you some food, something healthier for the three of you than the junk he’d thrown together last time, and the pair of them just stayed put all day, mostly in a relaxing silence as you watched whatever was on the TV.  

You appreciated that – your head was too busy for conversation, exhausted but still hurting. But there were no expectations to play hostess to the guests in your apartment, nor to divulge the mess of emotions in your mind. If you wanted to talk to them about it all, you would. They felt that.  

But you remained in your own head. You thought over the events of yesterday, of the whole week. You re-read Papa’s note in your mind over and over. You stewed over the thought of him caring for you much less than you’d thought, if his display in his office yesterday was anything to go by...  

It all hurt.  

It wasn’t until Dew wiped a tear from your cheek that you even knew you’d been crying. He gave you a look; one that asked what was wrong without having said the words. You weren’t sure why Dew was a mute Ghoul, but you were glad that it never seemed to be a problem for him. People understood what he was thinking quite easily; most of the time it was ‘what the fuck are you looking at?’ but they understood him all the same... He wasn’t a people person, but you were kind to him; a friend. And so, he cared when he saw you silently crying beside him.  

“N-nothing, Dew. I’m good,” you lied. Your voice caught Swiss’ attention then, who also saw the tears.  

“You can tell us, ______. I’m not gonna tell anyone and, well... neither’s Abu over here,” he joked, slapping Dew’s shoulder as he compared him to the silent, grunting monkey from Aladdin. Dew slapped him back on the back of the head. That earned him a smile from you; goal achieved.  

“I just... Have you ever thought of someone in a certain way, and then... they’ve proved you wrong?” you asked them. 

“Well, I thought Dew was straight. Think he proved me wrong today,” he laughed. You did too, appreciating that he was trying to make you smile when you needed it. “But that’s not what you mean, is it?” 

You shook your head no, smile slipping away. 

“You’re talking about Papa.” 

You nodded.  

“I suppose he just... maybe I got too wrapped up in all this,” you sighed, wiping another fresh tear away. Dew’s arm tightened around your shoulders. “Probably should have known that ‘the great Papa Emeritus the Third’ wouldn’t see me as anything more than a notch on his bedpost. Feel stupid now, thinking I’d actually started feeling something for him...” you laughed, no humour behind it at all.  

“Don’t shoo your feelings away just because he’s devoid of them. You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel, they’re no less real just because he doesn’t reciprocate. Feelings can be dealt with, Sister,” he assured. Strangely, his words felt quite affirming.  

“I just thought he cared...” your voice cracked with more tears, a lump in your throat forming you forced to swallow.  

“You’re part of his congregation, so I think he does care. But... maybe not exactly how you’d hoped, no...” Swiss took your hand and squeezed it. “Listen, you have one more day. One more sin to complete, and then you can figure out with the Dark One what your next steps are. Ask him about Papa, if you need to. I don’t know if it’s a ‘you only get three questions’ kind of situation, but I’m sure he can help. At the very least, I'm sure he can give you a purpose that will take your mind off Papa entirely.”  

You hummed in agreement. Just one more day. How you’d achieve what you needed in that one day, you weren’t sure, but you had the willpower and the tenacity to find something.  

“Big day for you tomorrow. Final sin, the All Hallow’s Ball, a date with Lucifer...” he smirked, winking down at you.  

“Oh, shit... the ball. I forgot about that,” you sighed.  

“Something wrong?” he asked.  

“Just... gotta see Papa,” and Christine, too... awkward. “I think I’d rather not.” Swiss nodded in understanding.  

“Non-negotiable though, isn’t it?” he asked, and you nodded back, “Don’t worry, Dew and I will be there. You can dance with us.” 

“Sure, I’d like that,” you smiled between them both.  

Whilst Swiss’ little pep-talk hadn’t exactly exterminated the sadness that welled up in you now that you’d admitted your feelings towards Papa weren’t strictly platonic, he had at least eased some of the anxiety in your mind about what to do with them.  

Feelings could be dealt with; that was his most important advice, yet. No matter how long it might take, they could be dealt with. You could get through that, and Papa essentially cutting you off here was probably for the best. At least you didn’t have to worry about more nights with him, and those feelings growing exponentially harder to ignore. What you needed to focus on right now, was completing this ritual.  

One more day. One more sin.  

And a date with Lucifer. 

Prev: Day 5 - Envy | Next: Day 7: Pride

A/N: And so, one more sin, and potentially only one more chapter... I'm working on writing it today - there's SO MUCH to put into it, so please bear with me. I may have to upload it in two halves if I can't finish it in time for tomorrow (I've been so busy with work, and Ghostcon over the weekend too!)

A huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading, and @adinferix for fine tuning the Italian translations! 🖤

Tag list:

@call-me-little-sunshine84 @thew0man @zombiesnips-blog @ghuleh-recs @popiaswife @anamelessfool @enchantedbunny @haelithra @aslutforgreyhair @togetherasone @lilylovesdew @copias-sewer-rat @copiaspet622 @deetz-ghuleh @loudwombatmugkid @nimbusghoul @portaltothevoid @angellayercake @sodoswitchimage @siouxbauhaus @lydz1977-blog @bitchywitchygardener @sacrificialsake @the-did-i-ask @ghostfangirlsweden @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @copiasprincipessa @gothicwonderlust @ladymer @ghulehunknown @onlyhereforghost @solluna00 @nijiru

[ghostchems]

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part seven

and now... a flashback chapter

art by the always amazing @piaart

author’s note: i feel like shit but it helped me finish this up. plenty of terzo pain here meanwhile reader is home, blissfully unaware. i also have no idea if my writing is good at this point but here ya go! part one/two/three/four/five/six. ao3 link.

If you could see the wreck I am these days, you’d have new reasons to stay away. Just hold my hand for a little while —

Misery never goes out of style.

Terzo traces a delicate finger along one of the bags under his eyes, no longer concealed by the dark eye paint he once wore. His brows furrow at the sight of himself in the mirror. The wrinkles have deepened since he left the stage. His hair, now less lustrous, betrays gray strands emerging from his roots and sideburns. All those years spent cultivating his image, trying to become the perfect imperfection that Lucifer himself boasted—only to unravel after one fateful show. He grits his teeth, his mismatched eyes sharpening in his reflection.

With all the glitz stripped away, he loathes how much he now resembles his father…

Terzo forces the thought out of his head. His days are spent analyzing his time as Papa and what went wrong. He wouldn’t do anything differently but it still stung, especially after the new heights and exposure he had achieved for the Ministry. Somehow, it was not enough. His father was never proud of him, a theme that stretched throughout his entire life. Terzo was only ever the Third to him, the third son that would serve his purpose and then be pushed aside for whoever was next. While this had been the typical progression, Terzo was the fool who thought he would be different — even after being warned by Secondo.

Secondo.

“Cazzo.”

He’s late for Uno Night.

The once-revered Emeritus brothers now find themselves relegated to a desolate corner of the abbey with their only entertainment being a silly card game. Their influence wanes with each passing day. Terzo can't help but sneer at the irony of their situation - former leaders now barely more than forgotten relics, with only each other’s company. There was a time when the Emeritus brothers were revered as gods among men. Crowds would surge forward at their concerts, desperate to touch the hem of their robes or catch a glimpse of their painted faces. Devotees would line up for hours, sometimes days, just for the chance to receive a blessing or a fleeting moment of attention. Their every word was treated as gospel, their gestures analyzed and imitated by legions of faithful followers.

In the halls of the Ministry, their presence commanded instant respect and adoration. Ghouls and Siblings of Sin alike would bow their heads in reverence as they passed. Their chambers were filled with lavish gifts from admirers - exotic incense, priceless artifacts, and fervent love letters. The very air seemed to crackle with power and dark allure whenever they entered a room. Now, that electric atmosphere has faded to a dull static. The gifts have stopped coming, the adoring crowds have moved on to newer, shinier idols. The once-mighty Emeritus brothers find themselves grasping at the fading light of their former glory, clinging to memories of a time when they were worshipped as the embodiments of their infernal master.

He used to delicately paint his face for each meeting, a ritual of devotion to himself and his roll as Papa. But now, as he stares at his bare face, he feels a bitter resentment towards the being he once revered. The paint feels like a mask of lies, concealing the growing doubts and anger festering within him. Lucifer's promises of power and glory now ring hollow in his ears, leaving only the taste of ash and disappointment. Terzo exhales through his nose and tears himself away from the mirror, satisfied with his appearance but frustrated with the progression of his thoughts. He had grown more disillusioned by the day with the cause he so passionately promoted, the being he worshipped. Lucifer, once his guiding light, now seemed like a cruel puppeteer, manipulating him for some cosmic joke.

Omega did not like these thoughts. In fact, Terzo has begun avoiding him and instead has been seeking the company of his brothers. Perhaps the one silver lining in all of this is that he is closer than he ever has been with his true family, minus daddy dearest, of course. They had grown up together, with Primo practically raising him and Secondo after they had come to the ministry. Back then he was a true zealot - a satanic lunatic whose fervor for the dark arts knew no bounds. It was from him that Terzo learned the intricacies of their infernal faith, absorbing every ritual and incantation with wide-eyed fascination. Yet, somehow, both Terzo and Secondo emerged less fanatical than their older brother.

But still competitors, nonetheless. Secondo and Terzo had been born to different mothers three months apart so it came naturally. The more time spent together now, the more they realize how similar they can be and deep down, Terzo wishes they had not been so combative. It was encouraged, though, fed and grown by the higher ups in the ministry and their father. Maybe they feared they would be too powerful if they were close.

Now all they care about is Uno.

"Fuck!" Terzo exclaims again, his voice tinged with frustration as he runs a hand tiredly over his face. The weight of his thoughts bears down on him, but he knows he can't afford to dwell any longer. With a deep sigh, he forces himself into action, slipping his feet into his shoes - the familiar spats clicking as he gets them on. Just as he reaches for the door handle, a sharp knock echoes through the room. Terzo pauses, his hand hovering in mid-air. Irritation flashes across his face.

"Enter," he calls out, his voice tinged with impatience.

The door creaks open, revealing a young Sibling of Sin. Their face is pale, eyes wide with fear and urgency. Terzo's irritation gives way to curiosity as he takes in their disheveled appearance.

"What is it?" he asks, his tone softening slightly.

The Sibling swallows hard before speaking, their voice trembling. "Papa, I... I have news. It's about Omega."

Terzo's eyebrows furrow. "Omega? What about him?" He nonchalantly goes back to adjusting his outfit, wondering if this is another plot from the ghoul to try and make him listen to “reason”. He certainly has stooped rather low, almost as low as Terzo.

The Sibling takes a deep breath, as if steeling themselves for what they're about to say. "He's been banished, Papa. Omega has been cast out of the Ministry."

The words hit Terzo like a physical blow. He stumbles back a step, his mind reeling. "Banished?" he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "But... how? Why?" Pain is etched across his face.

The Sibling shakes their head, clearly as confused and shaken as Terzo. "I don't know the details, Papa. It happened so suddenly. They're saying it came from the highest levels of the Ministry."

Terzo's mind races, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Shock, confusion, and a sudden, unexpected pang of loss all vie for dominance. Despite their recent disagreements, Omega had been a constant in his life for so long. The thought of him being gone, cast out... it's almost inconceivable.

Terzo's composure shatters as the weight of the news crashes over him. His eyes flash with unbridled fury, causing the Sibling to take an involuntary step back. "Get out!" he roars, his voice reverberating off the walls. "Leave me! Now!" The Sibling, wide-eyed with fear, scrambles to obey, nearly tripping over their own feet in their haste to escape. Terzo slams the door with such force that the entire room seems to shake, the sound echoing through the corridors like a thunderclap.

As soon as the barrier between him and the outside world is secure, everything crumbles. A primal roar of anguish and frustration tears from his throat, echoing off the walls of his private chambers. In a whirlwind of unbridled emotion, he lashes out at his surroundings. His fist connects with the ornate mirror adorning his vanity, the impact sending a spider web of cracks across its surface before it shatters completely. Shards of glass rain down, glittering in the dim light like fallen stars.

But Terzo's rage demands more destruction. He overturns his meticulously organized desk, unleashing an avalanche of papers, pens, and trinkets onto the floor. Books, once neatly arranged on shelves, are torn free and flung across the room, their pages fluttering like disoriented birds. His wardrobe—a carefully curated collection of robes and suits that once symbolized his power and prestige—falls victim to his fury next. Garments are ripped from hangers and strewn about haphazardly, silk and velvet mingling with the debris below. Spotting one of his Papal robes, an early prototype, he seizes it and tears, splitting seams and fabric into pieces with savage force.

He could kill them. End the reign of his father and Sister Imperator with a knife to their throats, a hammer to their heads. He’s capable and he’s angry.

But that’s not who Terzo is.

His appetite for destruction is as swift as it is thorough. When the storm of his anger finally subsides, Terzo finds himself standing amidst the wreckage of his once-immaculate quarters. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, his knuckles having bloodied his gloves from his outburst. The room, previously a testament to his refined tastes and exalted position, now lies in utter ruin around him. He closes his eyes, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as the full weight of what has transpired begins to settle upon him.

The dust settles around him, both literally and figuratively, as his mind wanders to Omega. Their relationship, once the core of his existence within the Ministry, had deteriorated over the past several months, transforming into a strained and tenuous connection. The rift between them had widened, growing into a seemingly unbridgeable gap that threatened to swallow everything they shared whole. Omega, ever faithful of their infernal master, had persistently begged Terzo to embrace what he perceived as a well-deserved retirement—a supposed reward bestowed upon them by Lucifer himself for their years of unwavering service and dedication.

"Papa, you've more than earned this rest," Omega would implore, his eyes blazing with sheer intensity behind his cool mask that Terzo found increasingly difficult to look at. "Our Dark Lord Lucifer, in his infinite wisdom, has granted you this period of rest and reflection. Why do you persist in resisting? Can you not see the honor in this gift he has bestowed upon you?"

But for Terzo, the notion of settling into a life of idle luxury felt suffocating—a gilded cage that threatened to strip away everything he had fought so hard to achieve. The very thought of turning his back on the empire he had painstakingly built, nurtured, and expanded over the years felt like a betrayal of who he is and what defines him. As time wore on, his arguments with Omega grew increasingly heated and frequent, his frustration mounting with each tense exchange, threatening to boil over into hostility.

"You call this rest, Omega?" Terzo would retort, his voice rising with each impassioned word, hands gesticulating wildly to emphasize his point. "This isn't rest—it's nothing short of exile, a banishment from everything I've ever known and loved! How can you, of all people, expect me to sit idly by, content to watch as everything I've dedicated my life to—my very existence—crumbles around me like dust?" The air between them would crackle with tension during these confrontations, an electric charge that made it increasingly difficult for them to occupy the same space without the risk of conflict erupting at any moment.

Now, with the shocking news of Omega's sudden and unexpected banishment reverberating through the chambers of his mind, Terzo finds himself consumed with emotion. Relief, guilt, anger, and a profound sense of loss intertwine in a dizzying dance, each vying for dominance in the turbulent landscape of his mind. Despite their recent differences and the ever-widening divide between them, Omega had been a constant, unwavering presence in Terzo's life for longer than he cared to remember—a touchstone of familiarity. His abrupt absence leaves a gaping void in the fabric of Terzo's existence, a wound so deep and raw that he isn't certain he possesses the means to heal it.

Even with the turmoil raging inside him, Terzo finds himself drawn to the familiar comfort of his brothers' company. With a heavy sigh, he straightens his posture and smooths down his attire, a reflexive gesture from years of public appearances. He may be struggling, but he'll be damned if he lets it show—at least not to them. They have all had their hardships. If anyone knows and understands what he is feeling right now, it is his brothers. Terzo’s steps are heavy, using his feet to clear a path forward amidst everything now on the floor. He reaches the door, hesitating for just a moment. There’s a weight pressing down on him that threatens to crush him, to break him down until there’s nothing left.

He won’t let it.

Terzo opens the door and leaves his room. As he makes his way towards the small room where their Uno nights are held, his mind goes blank, going numb to the intense feelings that are simmering beneath the surface. He trudges down the dimly lit corridor, his footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walls, focusing on that sound to keep him grounded. As he rounds a corner, lost in the maelstrom of his thoughts, a familiar voice catches his attention, causing him to halt abruptly.

Turning, he sees Cardinal Copia emerging from his office, a stack of papers tucked under one arm and an Uno card inexplicably held between two fingers of his free hand. The Cardinal's painted face breaks into a warm smile as he spots Terzo, oblivious to the storm brewing within the former Papa.

"Ah, Papa, on your way to Uno Night, yes?” The cheerful greeting hangs in the air, a stark contrast to the darkness swirling within Terzo.

Terzo's entire body tenses, his jaw clenching so tightly he can hear his teeth grind. The sight of him, so content and oblivious to the turmoil raging through the Ministry, ignites a fire in Terzo's chest—one that he had hoped was extinguished following his outburst in his room. His eyes narrow as he regards Copia with barely contained irritation. "Uno Night," he repeats, his voice low and controlled, though tension radiates from every syllable. "Mmm… yes." He takes a step closer to Copia, his presence suddenly looming and intimidating.

Copia's smile falters slightly, but he presses on, still oblivious and sweet. "It's become quite the tradition with your brothers, hasn't it?" He hesitates for a moment, then reaches into his sleeve and pulls out a blue reverse card. He holds it out to Terzo, a tentative peace offering. "Here, Papa. I always keep this one for luck. Perhaps... perhaps you'd like to have it for tonight's game?"

Terzo's gaze sharpens dangerously as he struggles to maintain his composure. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest, fingers digging into his biceps. The sight of that blue card in Copia's hand—a symbol of the carefree life he now leads—causes the fire to spread inside him, consuming him yet again. Terzo’s voice, when he finally speaks, is low and menacing, barely above a whisper.

"Tradition?" His voice is guttural and rough. "You dare speak to me of tradition when everything is crumbling around us? When the very foundations of our world are ripped away from us?" His words are full of anguish and rage, each one striking Copia like a physical blow.

The Cardinal stumbles back, his expression morphing from confusion to outright fear. "P-Papa, I... I don't understand-" he stammers, his voice trembling.

"Of course you don't understand!" Terzo cuts him off, his composure shattering completely. "You're nothing but a pawn, a naive fool dancing to their twisted tune!" He gestures wildly, his movements sharp and erratic. "Do you have any idea what's happening beyond your little bubble of blissful ignorance? Omega is gone! Banished! Cast out like yesterday's trash! And here you stand, grinning like a fool, oblivious to the chaos swirling around you!"

Copia's eyes widen in shock, the full weight of Terzo's words finally sinking in. "Omega? But how- Why-" he begins, but Terzo is far from finished.

Terzo snatches the blue Uno card from Copia's hand, gripping it so hard it begins to crumble in his grip. "And this?" he spits, brandishing it like damning evidence. "You think this changes anything? You think a game can fix what's broken? This card, this... this mockery of what we once were!" His voice rises to a near-scream. "Do you have any idea what this represents? It's not just a game, you fool! It's everything we've lost, everything that's been taken from us!"

With a primal yell that seems to shake the very stones of the corridor, Terzo tears the card to shreds. The pieces flutter between them like confetti, a mockery of celebration in this moment of utter despair. Copia flinches, raising his hands as if to shield himself from the physical manifestation of Terzo's rage.

"P-Papa, please," Copia stammers, his voice barely above a whisper, a plea for understanding, for mercy. "I didn't mean to-"

But Terzo is beyond reason, beyond mercy. His voice drops to a low, dangerous hiss, each word dripping with venom. "Get out of my sight," he commands, his tone brooking no argument. "You don't belong here. You never will. You're nothing but a pale imitation, a cheap replacement for something you could never hope to understand. And take your pathetic games with you!"

As Copia retreats, practically running down the corridor, Terzo stands amidst the scattered remains of the card. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, anger and grief warring within him. In the sudden silence, the weight of his actions begins to settle upon him. He knows, in some distant corner of his mind, that he's overreacted, that Copia isn't truly to blame for the chaos engulfing their world. But in this moment, all he can feel is the crushing weight of loss - of his position, of Omega, of everything he once held dear. And that damned Uno card, now in pieces at his feet, seems to mock him with its cheerful blue color, a stark contrast to the darkness consuming his soul.

If only he could reverse being removed from the Papacy.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Terzo straightens his posture and adjusts his shirt in an attempt to calm himself. He struggles to push down the turmoil within, determined not to let his brothers see his inner struggle. As he approaches the card room, he steels himself, forcing his face into a mask of nonchalance.

Opening the door, he finds his brothers already seated. An almost startling wave of relief washes over him. He allows a scoff to escape his lips at the sight of Primo, face fully painted and wearing a Burberry scarf. Before he can comment, Secondo interjects.

"Already gave him trouble for it, stronzino. If you'd been on time, you could've joined." There's a glint of mischief in Secondo's eyes.

Terzo rolls his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite his best efforts to maintain his aloof facade. He saunters over to the table, pulling up a chair with dramatic flair. "Well, shall we begin? I'm feeling particularly lucky tonight." He shoots a pointed look at Secondo, silently accepting the challenge in his brother's gaze.

He settles into his seat and the feeling of relief continues to spread through him. Here, surrounded by his brothers and the familiar rhythm of an extremely low-stakes card game, he can momentarily push aside his anger and frustration. In this room, he's not the fallen Papa or a disappointment to the Ministry - he's simply Terzo, the youngest of the Emeritus brothers, ready to lose himself in the game and forget, if only for a while, how far he has fallen.

On this particular evening, Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil would make an unexpected appearance, delivering news that would leave the brothers startled and confused.

They would be unable to continue their card game.

Terzo is deep in his desk chair, his body nearly slipped from it onto the floor. His gaze is locked on the the hell phone which has been ringing nonstop since you left for the night. Your taste is still on his tongue, your scent clinging to his robe. He’s afraid to move to disturb the haze he’s settled into, even though you would be back bright and early for work the morning after next. Fingers fall to his temples, rubbing them with each piercing ring of the phone.

He wouldn’t answer. He doesn’t want to face who is on the other line.

Was it Omega? What could he possibly say? He would only complicate matters—as he already has. The hell phone materialized before you, and you listened to the sounds of the abyss. It drove you into Terzo's arms and bed, but... you didn't deserve to experience such terrors or feel so frightened in his home. Or at least, if anyone was going to frighten you it should be him. His fingers drum along the arms of the chair, a deep grumble vibrating from his chest. The goal is to get you to stay, to devote yourself to him and only him. Yet the fear gnaws at him. What if the terrors you've witnessed push you away? The thought of losing you to the very darkness he once revered sends a chill through him. He wants you by his side, but you have to want to be there. Perhaps, he muses bitterly, this is another of Lucifer's cruel jokes—dangling happiness before him, only to threaten it with the very forces he once embraced.

Maybe the imp who fixed your tire that Terzo had shredded was calling. What was that all about? He didn’t have time to mull that incident over earlier while you were here. Is he manifesting things?

The memory of when he had accidentally shocked you resurfaces, Terzo's frown deepens. He recalls the pain on your face when he zapped your wrist. His gaze drifts to his hands, studying them as if they belong to a stranger. These hands that once commanded crowds, that channeled unholy energies with precision and purpose, now feel like unpredictable weapons. He clenches his fists, feeling the familiar tingle of power just beneath his skin. What if he hurts you again?

Another memory flits to the forefront of his mind — when he screamed at you over his relics being displayed causing a lightbulb to shatter. He remembers the fear in your eyes as it happened. It wasn't Lucifer's doing—it was his own power, his own lack of control. The realization hits him like a punch to the gut. Perhaps the true threat to your happiness, to any chance of a future together, isn't some external force or cosmic joke. It's him.

The silver lining is that you had seemed to be… into it. But what if next time, it's worse than a small shock or a broken bulb?

The thought sends a wave of despair crashing over him. Is he doomed to be alone, forever isolated by the very gifts that once made him special? The irony isn't lost on him—he who once reveled in his dark powers, who used them to seduce and enthrall, now fears them as the very thing that might drive you away. Terzo slumps further in his chair. The illusion of his perfection continues to fade but he’s stubborn. Unwilling to change his ways even though he knows he can be cruel and difficult.

He originally expected you to just deal with it.

Terzo rises with a frustrated growl, letting the hell phone continue its incessant ringing. He stalks over to his liquor cabinet, hands trembling slightly as he pours himself a generous measure of whiskey. What have you done to him? How dare you make him want to be better? He decides he must, at the very least, attempt to protect you from whatever hell seemingly has in store for you. This includes tempering his emotions, an obvious factor of his otherworldly abilities. Seriously, how dare you?

Taking a long swig, he savors the burn as it slides down his throat. It's a familiar comfort, one that does little to reduce the budding anxiety he feels. With a heavy sigh, he turns his back on the still-ringing phone and retreats to his bedroom, drink in hand. The door closes behind him, muffling the sound of the hell phone but he can still feel its presence. Terzo takes another sip, hoping to drink himself into unconsciousness.

Only two sleeps until he sees you again.

[earthry]

hello love i hope you have an amazing weekend Can i ask about hc with insecure papas who thinks reader is with them just, because they're heads of the church and suddenly they're retired and have to tell about it reader?

Aw thank you, I hope you do too!

I was very excited to do this prompt <3

sfw, hurt/comfort, angst, tw self deprecation, low self-esteem, fluff

Primo

Considers himself good at handling stress but all he does is avoid the problem, distracting himself from what he’s feeling. So instead of going to you directly, he picks up gardening.

Has no clue what he’s doing, this is his first introduction into the hobby. He finds a little patch and asks if he can have it and when the Ministry doesn’t protest, he just starts digging up grass.

The problem becomes unavoidable when you seek him out after his continued absence. He’s always gone from the bed when you wake and doesn’t return until very late. Part of you was prepared to find the worst; that he’d been seeing someone else or something but when you find him, he’s up to knees in dirt tearing up the Ministry’s lawn.

The encounter ends with you holding his hand as he confesses the news and his fears of you leaving. You can tell he’s anxious from the stiffness of his posture and the tension in his expression. Leaning so that your forehead rests against his, you tell him he has no need to be afraid of you leaving because you don’t plan to anytime soon. His place as Papa isn’t why you’re with him, and you’ll do your best to show him that in the future to come.

You also joke that you’d better get your own pair of gardening gloves if this is gonna be a permanent new hobby.

Secondo

He believes in tearing off the bandaid quickly, and he doesn't allow himself the time to truly process things or grieve for himself. He just goes on as if everything's okay still and when he tells you the news, he might as well be telling you the weather forecast with how nonchalant he is when he brings it up.

You can see through him though, like stained glass. Can see just how tightly he's wound up, how stiff his muscles are as he braces himself for you to leave. He's playing it casual, like he doesn't care. Like he’s telling himself that when you leave, he'll just keep this facade and eventually he'll be okay again (though he can't even begin to think about a life without you, can't bear to think of you leav-- he stops himself from finishing that thought for fear it may shatter him).

And because you know him and because you can see past that stoney mask of his, the first thing you do is take his calloused hands in yours and press a gentle kiss to it— a reassuring gesture you often do when he’s feeling uneasy or nervous about something and it speaks for itself. You can practically see the tension seeping out of Secondo with how much he deflates and practically collapses against you. You don’t mind however and welcome him with open arms, embracing him as he falls back against you.

You tell him that he’s silly for thinking you’d ever leave just because he’s not Papa anymore. You list all the reasons off the top of your head on why you love him, Secondo, and not Papa Emeritus II.

He hates it when he cries, despises it with a passion because he was raised with toxic masculinity, but he allows himself to let it out in the safety of your arms with his head buried into the crook of your neck. He asks you to continue talking, asks you to tell him about your day, so you do. You tell him what you did that morning, what you ate, who you saw and what they said.

His kisses are the softest after, thankful and relieved and so in love with you. His energy has all been spent through the emotional whirlwind that is his coping methods and so you take him to bed early, tucking yourself into his arms and wrapping around him like a koala. He whispers that he loves you about a billion times, just in case you forget.

Terzo

He figures after he was dragged off stage, he would be retiring. Has a full blown panic attack, and you hold him tightly in his bedroom. Little whines and stuttered breathes as he tries to stop hyperventilating. It takes a little time but you eventually help him settle by putting his hand against your chest and telling him to follow your breathing.

You tell him so many things— that it’s okay and it will be okay. That you’re not going anywhere and that regardless of what happens, he won’t be alone.

You gently brush his tears away and help him clean off his papa makeup, kissing each patch of bare skin you reveal. You run a bath for the two of you with his favorite essential oils and let him curl up in your lap, clinging to you like a stubborn panda. You even tease him about being like one, and his cheeks heat up pink, flustered.

When you finally get to bed, you let him be the little spoon, enveloping him in your arms and holding him tight with the promise that you won’t let go.

Copia

To him, there is no question to whether you would stay or not. He just knows you won’t because he can’t possibly think of a single reason why you would stay if he were no longer Papa. To him, he had been worth nothing until he was Papa. Just the weird quirky cardinal that everyone tolerates because at least he gets his work done on time. He doesn’t know you’ve had a crush on him for years before he ever even stepped foot into the spotlight to lead the Ministry.

He lets himself have one more day. Just one more day where you’re all his and he’s all yours and everything is okay with the world. One more day he gets to hold you in his arms and make you laugh and kiss your lips that he swears taste of honey. To have your hand in his, fingers intertwined as if they were meant to fit together perfectly like soulmates. To hear you say “I love you” and mean it with everything in your heart.

He cries that night as the two of you lay down to sleep, but won’t tell you what’s wrong. Instead, he begs you to hold him the entire night, to stay with him until he wakes. And you do. You kiss his forehead softly and promise you’ll be there in the morning. You wrap him in safety and love until he finally drifts off into a fitful sleep.

In the morning, it’s the first thing he tells you and he fully expects you to get dressed and collect your things to leave. What he doesn’t expect is for you to drag him back to bed.

You snuggle him within an inch of his life and tell him you’re not leaving, not when he’s the perfect cuddle buddy. You’ll reassure him as many times as he needs to hear it and he cries again, soft relieved tears that you kiss away.

[ramblingoak]

Napping in the Clouds

~ A special edition of Naps With Copia ~

This is for @megachaoticstupid who wanted a nap in my Steampunk Verse between little Copia and his big brother Secondo 💙

Huge thanks to @tasty-ribz for the art and to @ghuleh-recs for my steampunk dividers!

This technically takes place after Building A Family but it can be read on its own. There are also two other fics in this universe: Capitano Copia and Clockwork Friends.

Warnings: angst pertaining to Copia's time in an orphanage and Secondo's feelings towards his family otherwise it is very soft and fluffy, sfw, 2,600 words

They were running out of clocks.

Secondo brushed the toe of his boot against some of the debris on the floor.  The delicate metal parts scraped against the polished wood and he winced briefly at the scratch left behind.  Not that it mattered, Emeritus Manor had countless rooms that hadn’t seen a soul in years.  No one would care about the condition of the floor in some dusty study.  Secondo couldn’t even remember if he’d been in this room before.  Copia however had clearly been busy exploring.

Busy doing other things too.

“He’s up to three rats now.”  Alpha’s voice preceded him as he appeared out of the shadow in the doorway.  “And some toys.”

“Aren’t the rats toys?”

“No.”  Secondo turned with a raised eyebrow at the sharp quality of the ghoul’s voice.  To his credit, Alpha lowered his head briefly in apology before looking back up with a smirk on his face.  The red eyes of the demon glowed with mischief as he answered.  “They’re not toys at all.”

Copia was singing when he finally tracked him down.

He had a strong voice for his age.  Strong and bright Italian words drifted down the hallway and Secondo felt such an intense moment of something that he had to pause before he turned the corner to confront the boy.  Music hadn’t traveled the corridors of the manor for a long time.  Not since Terzo had decided he’d rather spend his time in the sky.

Or, as was the case lately, in prison.

Secondo turned the corner to find Copia hunched over something in the middle of the hall.  Parts and tools were spread out around him as well as what he assumed were the little clockwork rats Alpha had watched him build.  He was content to stay back and listen to his song but one of the rats twitched and turned his way.  Copia instantly quieted down, his head snapping back and his eyes widening as soon as he saw Secondo.

“I’m sorry!  I’ll put it back together!”

Copia stumbled onto his feet, grabbing an armful of parts and quickly going over to the quiet clock.  The rats were right at his heels save one.  This one went right for Secondo, pausing at his boots and gazing up at him.  There was a blue glow right below its chest, bright enough to illuminate the little creature’s eyes.  It was something that had Secondo holding his breath, memories of his own childhood here springing to his mind.

Memories of what he used to be able to build.

“What’s his name?”  His little brother turned his way, a small screwdriver clamped between his teeth.  Secondo crouched down slowly, not wanting to scare the rat away.  “Your friend, does he have a name?”

“Brizio.”  Copia timidly walked his way, the other two rats never straying far.  Only one of them had the same glow as the one Secondo was studying.  “I named him after a friend.”

“Friends are important, where is this friend now?”

“I-I’m not sure?  He was at the orphanage with me and got adopted…”  He dropped to his knees and reached a finger out to gently touch the rat’s back.  “I miss him.”

Secondo stayed silent as he watched the boy fidget, his little fingers tapping along his knees.  He could see a bit of himself in the boy’s features, the eyes being the most obvious thing.  The Emeritus family having had the white eye for generations at this point.  Nihil always claimed it was a gift but most of his sons at some point had considered it a curse.  Primo had hated it enough to replace it with one of his “enhancements”.

A tiny hand on his knee pulled Secondo from his thoughts.  Copia was looking up at him, his eyes wide and his face unsure.  

“It’s ok to miss friends and loved ones.”  He bit his lip for a moment, a memory from his own life here as a child coming forward in his mind.  “I used to have a pet rabbit, she was a gift from my mother.”

“What was her name?”

“Snowbell.  Because of her fur.  All white, beautiful and soft.”  He couldn’t help but smile softly, thinking of that first day he met Snowbell.  When his mother brought her into his room in her arms.  It was one of the last times he saw his mother healthy, before everything in his life changed.  He was so lost in his memories that he missed Copia saying something.  “What was that fratellino?” 

“Fratellino?”  Secondo found himself staring into a familiar set of eyes.  They shimmered in the gas lamps in the hallway, unshed tears threatening to drop.  “Are you…you’re one of my brothers?”

“Si, I am Secondo.”  He smiled when Copia reached a small hand up and Secondo gamely shook it.  “Primo is here as well, although he is rarely seen.  He likes to spend his time in his lab.”

“Do you have a lab?”

Secondo placed a hand on the floor to brace himself and then moved to sit cross legged.  Copia stayed close, his hand never leaving Secondo’s leg, almost like he was afraid that if he let go he’d lose the older brother he just found.

“I do, although I don’t use it as much anymore.  My study is where I spend most of my time, usually reading or designing things.”  Copia cocked his head and guessing the question he was about to ask Secondo continued,  “Designing things for my airship.”

“You have an airship?!”

The sheer joy on Copia’s face was infectious and he couldn’t help but match it,  “I do!  Secular Haze is her name.  She’s the fastest ship in the skies.”  Secondo made a show of looking around to see if they were alone,  “But don’t tell your brother Terzo that, ok?”

“Is Terzo here too?”

Secondo winced and gave a slight shake of his head,  “Unfortunately Terzo has landed himself in prison.”  Copia’s eyes widened comically, but he moved his head closer when Secondo leaned in.  “Piracy.”

“Wow!”

Of course to a child that was exciting and Secondo tried not to let his face fall and ruin the mood.  But Copia didn’t know what it was like dealing with the worry of how long Terzo would be gone this time.  About what sort of damage his ship Mummy Dust had taken.  Mostly though he was worried about what the city would find in the airship.

And what that would mean for the whole family.

He cleared his throat, taking a quick look around the hallway before leaning in close to Copia once more,  “I have an idea.”

“We ride around in your airship!”

“We will fratellino, I promise you that.”  Copia beamed up at him, following Secondo and standing up as well.  “But first we should clean this up, find something to eat and then maybe have a little tour of the manor, yeah?”

“Oh, yes!  Per favore!  Alpha showed me around a little but Papa Nihil caught us and made him take me back to my room.”

“Nihil is a dickhead.”  Copia’s little gasp had Secondo chuckling and he knelt down before the boy, his hands resting on his tiny shoulders.  “I will show you all the secret passageways, all the hiding spots.  I will show you how your brothers and I avoided him when we were your age.”  He stood up again, winking when he held out a hand for Copia.  “We still use them even now.”

He squeezed Copia’s hand when the boy reached out and then led him over to the silent grandfather clock.  Without direction Copia knelt down and began to put the old thing back together, his fingers quick and precise.  The little rats whirred at his feet, Brizio even picking up small gears and bringing them over to the boy right as he needed them.  Secondo chimed in whenever Copia held up something with a questioning look, helping the boy find where the part belonged.

When Secondo saw Copia’s triumphant grin as the clock came to life and a series of chimes rang out in the hallway he knew then and there that the boy was where he belonged as well.

From that day on Copia, and his rats, were rarely away from Secondo’s side.

Alpha and a few of the other ghouls had cleared out a space in Secondo’s study for the boy.  An area where he could work on whatever he desired, where he could build whatever he wanted, and Secondo was there to watch.  To lend a hand whenever Copia needed it.  It was amazing to witness the ease in which his fratellino could create things.  Amazing to see the familiar blue glow in each creation.  It was a special kind of magic the world didn’t see much of these days.

Secondo took a sip of his drink and continued to stare into the fireplace.  His study was quiet today save the crackling of the fire.  It was strange how fast he had gotten used to Copia’s chattering, to the sounds of the boy working as well as the sounds of his rats running about.  Copia loved to sing as well and Secondo found it hard not to join in when he did.  They made him ache for a home he had barely known but one he hoped to build here for himself and Copia.

Perhaps for Primo and Terzo as well if they wanted.

His ghouls had taken Copia out to see Secular Haze, something that the boy had been begging to do ever since he found out she existed.  He had also begged Secondo to come with but he couldn’t bring himself to go.  It had been so long since he had seen her, since he had last sailed through the skies on her, that the guilt for leaving her dormant was too heavy.  

He wasn’t even sure he could sail her again.  Wasn’t even sure if she’d let him.

“Papa?”  Secondo startled at the old honorific from Alpha, a title no one had bothered to use for years.  “We’re back.  Copia is in his room, he wanted to see you but he was asleep on his feet.”

“What did he think of her?”

“He was amazed, running around to study every part of her.  Asked a million questions.”

“I’m sure he did, I’ll have to dig out her plans so he can look at those.”  

Alpha stepped into his line of sight, the tall ghoul moving close to the fire and staring right into it.  He was far too close to the fire than most could handle but each ghoul had a specific element they called their own and fire was as natural to Alpha as breathing.  There was a tenseness to the ghoul’s shoulders, like he was debating whether or not to say something.  When he finally turned around Secondo set his glass down and crossed his arms.

“Is there something else?”

“Some of those questions were about you.”  Secondo shrugged, not really surprised at that.  The boy always had lots of questions for him.  Recently he had been mostly focused on the story Secondo told him of his rabbit, Snowbell.  “About what you were like at his age.”

“Too smart for my own good and desperate for someone to notice.”  

He froze after the words left his mouth, surprised he had said something so personal.  Although it didn’t really matter, Alpha had been there when he was young and angry at everyone.  Lost in the Emeritus Manor without another Emeritus in sight.  Nihil annoyed that Secondo even existed and Primo gone all the time for whatever reason.  

“I told him you were lonely.”

Secondo couldn’t shake Alpha’s comment.

The old ghoul was right, he was lonely.  It was just an odd thing to think about considering he’d felt that way most of his life.  While Primo had eventually warmed up to him, and Terzo had moved into the manor not long after Secondo did, they never truly felt like brothers.  Each was different enough in their attitudes and abilities that it had been hard to bond. 

It didn’t help that Nihil always tried to make things a contest between the three of them.  Who could develop something better, who could build something faster, who could propel the family further?  Those were the things Nihil cared about and if one of them failed at any of those aspects, or anything else, he was quick to lose interest and ignore them.  That in turn made the brothers quick to ignore each other, something that was easy to do in such a big house.

He got up to throw a few more logs into the fire, easing back into his chair as the loud popping sounds from the wood filled the room.  It was funny how quickly he had gotten used to Copia being in here because it already felt strange not to hear him tinkering away at something.  Ever since he had visited the airship he had been spending more time in his room.  Alpha said he was fine, just busy working on something.  The ghoul wouldn’t elaborate any further and when Secondo had finally decided to go to the boy himself Copia refused to even open the door.

Perhaps Copia had already grown tired of him.  The thought hurt and Secondo quickly took a swig of his whisky, wanting to bury that idea as deep as he could before it started to hurt worse.

“Fratello?”  Copia’s little voice had Secondo coughing mid swallow, the whisky burning his throat when it went down the wrong way.  He leaned forward with his arms on his legs, trying to catch his breath.  A small hand started to pat his back, the boy’s voice frantic when Secondo continued to cough.  “Are you ok?  Should I get Alpha?  Please don–”

“I’m ok, I’m ok.”  Secondo turned and placed a hand on top of Copia’s head, lightly ruffling his light brown hair.  “You just startled me, that's all.”  

He turned and set his glass down on the nearby table before looking at Copia again.  The boy had something in his arms, an object made of gold metal with a familiar blue glow shining bright in its chest.  At first Secondo thought it was Brizio but when he looked closer he realized the ears were much longer than what he was used to.  The body shape was different too.  Secondo straightened up in his chair abruptly, his eyes widening when he realized what it looked like.

“I made you something.”

It felt good to be in the sky again.

It felt good to have his ship under his feet, his ghouls at his side and the Secular Haze racing through the clouds.  This is where he belonged, the sky had always felt more like home than the ground.  The hum of his ship resonated through his bones and he didn’t realize how much he had missed it until now.  This partnership between him and the machine he had built.

The body next to him shifted and he looked down at a familiar mop of brown hair, his fratellino fast asleep at his side.  A small fist was latched onto his shirt, machine grease tucked under his nails like always.  Nearby Secondo could hear the familiar sound of small metal feet running about, the gentle whir of Copia’s creations ever present.  

When he looked over he met the gaze of one such creation Copia had made for him.  A gift that Secondo would cherish always, just like he planned to always cherish the small boy who made it.  Snowbell’s ears clicked as they moved around, the mechanical rabbit rearing up onto its hind legs when two of Copia’s rats ran by.  It soon dropped back down onto its feet, chasing after them around Secondo’s cabin. 

He leaned back and closed his eyes, soaking in the sounds of his ship around him.  Soaking in the warmth of being with his family, both old and new, as he began to drift off to sleep.

He didn’t feel lonely anymore.   

~ Naps With Copia series masterpost ~

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

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[miasmaghoul]

Oh :(

Oh Miasma why would you do this to me why would you make me sad about Omega like this........

But also.

Poof. Omega's just gone. Do you think it breaks Aether's heart to lose his mentor? Or do you think some part of him is happy for him because maybe, if the unholy father wills it, Omega might find Terzo again in another life?

Do you think Dew feels like his worlds been turned on its head? Relies even more heavily on Aether for a sense of stability without Omega there?

Sorry you've activated the sad Omega brainworms and I am in shambles

-Void

(Follow up to this ask)

I almost exclusively have sad thoughts about Omega, it's a curse 😔

Sad terzomega and dewther brainworm food below, but maybe with a little hope swirled in for flavor. Eat up 💜

I think he withdraws once Terzo goes missing, and with all the fallout after the fact...no one really notices. Except for Aether and Dew - they're at his door every day, always trying to offer what they can. Anything Omega needs, they'll make happen.

Omega needs Terzo. No one can help him with that.

I think they both feel it when he vanishes. Aether via the connection he has to all his pack members, and Dew senses it thanks to a chill he's never felt before. Like something's been chipped off inside him, something small but crucial. They wake up together one rainy morning, a week after the Cardinal was named leader, and just know everything feels...off. They dress together in silence, and walk just as quietly to Omega's chamber in the lower ghoul wing. Aether's hands won't stop shaking when he goes to open the door, but Dew does him the courtesy of not mentioning it.

Inside, on the perfectly made bed, they find the photo of Copia, a worn silver mask - and a pair of golden rings.

They hold each other for a while after that. Aether pins Dew to his chest and Dew clings to his shirt. No words, just contact. Reassurance that they both need so, so badly in the moment.

Then, knelt at Omega's bedside, they pray.

Aether prays he's found peace. That he's free of the stress and misery of being without the one person he'd found a true connection with. (If he peeks at Dew from the corner of his eye, he can't be blamed.) He prays that now Omega can rest, and that Secondo was right when he drunkenly told them all that the family Emeritus has it good in Hell. He prays that Terzo has been down there waiting, and that Omega can spend the rest of forever as happy as he deserves to be.

Dew cusses him out, brow furrowed in frustration as every bit of ghoulish profanity he can remember rolls through his mind. He sighs to himself once the wave of reactionary anger recedes, setting his elbows on the mattress and bowing his head - and all he can think to say is thank you. It's not enough, certainly. Nowhere near as complex as a goodbye should be, especially not to someone as important to him as Omega had been, but it's all he's got. In the end, he supposes that's fitting. Omega was never a ghoul of many words. He preferred keeping things direct - it was one of the things that Dew admired most about him. So maybe thank you is enough. For now, it has to be.

Aether's the first to stand, but Dew follows quickly. The join hands without so much as looking at one another, Dew leading the way to the door with purposeful strides. Aether grabs the old brass key from the dish on Omega's desk, and he pauses with one hand on the door handle. Takes one last look at the mask, the rings, and with one deep breath he commits every detail to memory.

Dew does not look back until he hears the lock tumble, and hold his hand out expectantly. Aether drops the key in his palm, and hand in hand the walk to the lake. It's still drizzling out, enough that their uniforms have gone damp by the time they reach the creaky old dock. Dew holds out his hand, and they stare at the key for a long moment. The little ghoul sighs, and Aether looks up to find Dew watching him with resolute eyes still watery along the edges.

"We gotta make him proud."

Dew says it so softly that Aether almost misses it, his mouth set in a firm line, and the fiercest sort of affection rips through his chest. He nods, biting the inside of his cheek.

"We will."

Dew throws the key towards the center of the gently rippling water, and they both turn away before they can see it sink.

[sweatandwoe]

Don't mind me dropping in for the request. How about a papa absolutely smitten over a chubby sibling like he tries so hard to have a little bit of interaction with them as much as he can but he's also afraid to approach them because they might get spook having papa (who is always flocked by siblings) approach them and choosing to talk to them voluntarily

this could be angst if you squint enough

Birb you know I can't deny you, went with Copia for this one

Copia x Chubby!Reader - Anxiety, Slight Angst, Fluff, Copia is horribly smitten, Reader is a little shy/low self-esteem

-

He's old. Copia isn't one to sugarcoat it. He can laugh, he can pretend, but he can see how quickly his hair is going grey. Can feel the aches lingering in his joints more than he used to. The bags growing under his eyes seem to settle there now, no matter how much he preens himself.

But whenever he sees you, he doesn't feel quite as old as he should. Flustered. Like a teen with his first crush.

The worst part is: he knows you feel the same.

He's seen you. Copia isn't blind, he isn't old enough to lose his sight fully yet (though he knows he'll probably need some reading glasses soon enough). The shy way you hold yourself whenever he approaches, especially if he advances towards you with a group of admiring siblings on his heels.

Always so shy. But it was rather adorable.

At first, he thought, it may have just been the group. Though it was more easily expressed when others were around him found that you were always shy around him. Small little smiles, accompanied by small little acts of kindness.

When he returned them, you'd smile, try to hide yourself away. Pressing your clothes down with your fingers, as though trying to flatten yourself out. It made him want to throw his arms around your waist, to kiss every part you considered a flaw until you couldn't speak badly of any of it. Until you recognized how beautiful you were - always.

It made him feel happy in a small way, that you got the same butterflies he did when you saw one another. Even if you didn't know it.

But today, he's decided. He will ensure that his feelings are known - before he's too old and loses his chance. Or his nerve.

You are in the halls when he finds you. Glancing over him, and smiling more warmly when you realize he's alone. It has him beaming, as he greets you. "Tesoro." He holds out his hand. "May I borrow you for a moment?"

Your eyes crinkle when you smile now. It has his heart racing, maybe skipping a beat as you slide your fingers into his gloved hand. "Of course, Papa."

He might already love you, he thinks, drawing you further down the hall. Copia hasn't even kissed you yet, but he thinks it will be the best kiss he's ever gotten. Your hands are warm, and you look horribly sweet.

Papa Emeritus the fourth would devour you if you let him. Not just your body, but your heart too. Let it become one with his body, so if it ever hurt he'd know.

"Please," He whispers, bringing you close as he leads you into his empty office. Enjoying how you smile more fully in the quiet perfection that was a room with just the two of you. The older man presses a delicate kiss to the back of your hand, letting his lips brush over your knuckles. "Call me Copia."

[emeritus-fuckers]

„Souls on Fire” ♡ Yandere!Papa Emeritus I x Reader oneshot

Loosely based on the song Souls on Fire by Mad Gallica.

CW: gn reader. a feminine term used for reader. yandere themes. mentions of rituals. mentions of human sacrifice. mentions of blood. primo gets delusional. primo and reader have a significant age gap. yandere typical delusions. stalking. kidnapping. suicide. somewhat implied belief in reincarnation.

i. do you feel the burn between our hearts? souls on fire a strange desire

He remembered the first time he's met you. You were both in your twenties. He wasn't sure of your exact age back then, but he was twenty-seven years old. Secondo was nearing his first birthday, with Terzo's following three months later.

Both of his younger brothers adored you. You were a young Sibling of Sin, used to babysitting your younger siblings and cousins back at home before you had to escape, hoping to avoid a marriage your very religious parents have planned for you. You missed all the kids you'd take care of, so once you found out there was a nursery in the Ministry, you quickly signed up to work there.

You were amazing with the kids, they all absolutely adored you. Which, of course, didn't escape the attention of the higher ups. You were eventually made the nanny of Papa Nihil's two younger sons. They were such little sweethearts, you considered it more of a pleasure than a job. And as protective as Primo was of them, he trusted you with his brothers.

Perhaps... he felt something for you, too. Despite the little ones having a father (although giving Nihil that title was too much, in Primo's personal opinion), they didn't really have parents. Nobody knew where their mothers went.

Primo had to step up in hopes of saving his baby brothers the terrible childhood he had. He wasn't just their older brother, he was a fatherly figure to them, too.

Just as you filled in the motherly role, with how caring you were. And he adored that, adored you. He'd often hide somewhere, just to fondly watch you and the little ones. He loved to see them both snuggled up to you as you read them fairy tales.

You weren't as fond of that as he was, however, considering he never even spoke to you. He'd just watch you until his brothers noticed him and ran to him, hugging him tightly and giggling.

This lasted years. You'd take care of his brothers and he'd observe you. For the first few months, at least. After about half a year of taking care of the little ones, Primo started watching you even when you were alone. If he couldn't watch you himself, he'd get the help of one of the Ghouls he summoned.

You were always watched. No matter what you were doing, there was at least one pair of eyes on you at all times.

All because despite never speaking a single word to you, he believed your souls were connected.

And he fully believed that your heart burned just like his.

ii. have you given in to this ancient ritual? i don't know how long we've been apart but we're the same old souls playing different parts

The next time Primo saw you was many, many years later. It was his very last Ritual, the day Secondo was meant to replace him not only as Papa, but also as the new frontman of Ghost.

He saw you there, in the crowd. Very briefly, but he did. You haven't changed a bit since you escaped the Ministry all those decades ago. He remembered just how upset he was back then when one of his Ghouls informed him that you managed to disappear.

He had all the Ghouls hunt you down, only to find out that you decided to escape his gaze... permamently. He could only weep, holding your cold body...

Until now. Tonight.

You were there, right in front of the stage. As beautiful as you were when he first saw you, playing with his brothers in the garden. You didn't recognize him, but that was alright. It's been years, after all.

At yet, after all those years, Satan connected you again. It would seem that all the rituals and all the sacrifices have finally paid off. He was re-united with you. After all the blood he spilled for you... you were back.

And soon, you'd finally be in his arms, his lips on yours. Just as he has dreamed for all these years.

iii. same old souls playing different parts picking up the broken pieces of our hearts

You were scared, weren't you? You poor thing... You didn't remember him, did you? You didn't remember the love he had for you for all those years.

You had no idea who he was, but that was alright. He knew who you were. You were the one destined for him. You were his most precious darling.

He knew you felt your soul burning with passion, just like he did.

You just needed some time to realize your love for him.

You didn't have a choice in the matter.

~

Written by Nosferatu.

Taglist: @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @callmeicaro @thecuriouss @dio-niisio @ethereal-maniac @firefirevampire @mybotanicaldemise @emo-mess @natoncesaid @sirlsplayland @kirschface @lightbluuestars @igodownjustlikeholymary

[jessicafangirl]

The First Chapter of My Ghost Fic is here!

Please be kind. I've not written anything for this group before but god damn do I love Copia and this idea hit me and I decided to do it.

I'm a wordy bitch. You've been warned. You can also read this on Archive Of Our Own here

@nequissimus-canis asked to be tagged which was very kind. This is also dedicated to @foxybouquet who I blame for so many amazing things that I've learned and who enables me beautifully. You are my fave Ghestie.

Music Eternal, Fire Infernal.

Jennifer Travers is at the tail end of 40 and decides to do something spontaneous. Unfortunately things REALLY don't go as planned. Her life is in now in danger and the only place of refuge is a satanic church. She knew the band Ghost already, but she didn't know until that day that all of it was real and it would lead to something that would change her life forever, in more ways than one. And it would lead to some revelations for Copia Emeritus too.

Chapter 1

“The cemetery here is close to 300 years old. It contains some interesting residence that have a history that will send a shiver down your spine.” The tour guide’s Maglite flashed along the path and caught one or two of the “residence” headstones as he droned on in a bored monotone. As the group walked through the dark, Jennifer realized this was not one of her best ideas. Her breath was visible as she huddled in her hoodie. Let’s go on the spooky ooky tour, she thought to herself. Let’s troll through an old graveyard at night. Hey there’s a satanic church nearby…what could go wrong? All of that sounded great on paper but the reality was really kind of fucking miserable. This guy knew literally nothing about what he was talking about. Jen could have done a better job…not that that would have been hard.

She sighed and tightened the straps on her backpack. At 47 walking while carrying a backpack weighted down by her Switch, iPad, and clothes was not as easy as it used to be. But she wanted to travel light. This trip was something she’d promised herself for a while. After the year she’d had, a spur of the moment trip to the east coast to visit some of the older and creepier parts of the country was something she decided to do. She shoved some things into her bag and hopped on a plane. And now here she was probably going to break her leg because she decided to take a night tour like a moron.

It was pretty though, she had to admit as she and the four other suckers crunched through dead leaves. Very Universal Horror. She could almost see Dwight Frye and Colin Clive digging up one of those old graves if she squinted right. In the distance she could see the large, sprawling church that looked like it belonged in Romania and not in New York State. The guide had said that the Ghost project was in residence. When he’d said that it had cemented her decision to go on this insane tour just in case she could catch a glimpse of the band. She’d loved their music and the whole mystique but hadn’t realized it was a REAL church of Satan until…well…there was the church. She’d never seen a concert in person either, but the videos she’d caught online were interesting. The current lead singer was apparently a sweetheart for a satanic pope. She could hear her elderly, right wing mother screeching about how just having that thought was going to send her to hell. God knew the list her family had was already long enough for what was wrong with her, what was one more thing.

Jen realized she’d lagged behind as she’d kept looking up at the church and hurried to catch up. Even though the guide wasn’t the best he had a flashlight, and she had no freaking idea where anything was around there. That extra 20 pounds she wanted to always lose was felt hard as she rejoined the group. “The church you see is of course part of the Satanic Church of Emeritus. I’m sure some of you are fans of the band Ghost and if you aren’t you can find out information about the church and the band through this website…” The tour guide literally rambled off a web address and Jen raised an eyebrow. Were they supposed to write that down in the dead of night?

They kept walking and the guide led them into another area of the cemetery, this one with large tombs and statues spread out along the grounds. This was obviously the more well to do section and Jennifer was awestruck by how beautiful it was, even if it was slightly crumbling. The moon was shining down brightly now, full and clear, so she could walk without too much risk of falling on her ass as she was want to do. Her Converse sneakers weren’t really made for uneven ground, but so far, she was doing okay. As the tour guide rambled on Jen pulled out her iPhone and started taking some pictures of the statues. The one of the grim reaper was wonderfully gothic and even had a skull carved inside the stone robes that made it up. She headed over to another area where the largest crypt sat with a giant letter E carved over an archway entrance that had rose bushes on either side. They were old bushes that had grown nearly as tall as the entrance. The flowers were large, red, and smelled amazing. She loved roses but even she was surprised at how big the thorns were on those plants. It was almost like they were there not for the flowers but for some sort of deterrent to keep people from trying to get in or maybe even vandalize the tomb. When she leaned over to take a whiff of one blood red bud, she noticed the sharp little daggers were half an inch long and nearly that thick.

Jen took a picture of the entrance, her eyes taking in more of the designs that could be seen in the stonework not covered by the plants. Sigils…inverted crosses…pentagrams and peeking down from the roof were even a couple of gargoyles. Ah…yeah…satanic church. She slipped her phone into her back pocked of her jeans and ran her fingers through her short red hair, cracking her stiffening neck and realized she should get back to the group. According to her phone and watch it was nearly midnight.

But when she turned around, she realized the boring tour guide and the tiny group were gone. “Did that dip wad just leave me?” She said aloud. God, he really did suck. She headed back the way she came and sure enough the cemetery was empty save for the graves and her. “Well…this is the start of every god damn horror movie I’ve ever seen.” She mumbled to herself. Jen realized she’d been doing that a lot more over the last year or so. But now it was getting to be a habit. Being alone so much you just sort of did it, maybe to remind yourself you had a voice.

With a heavy sigh she took out her phone and checked the battery. She was still at a good 80 percent, but the bad news was her cell service was nowhere to be found. “And now, your life as directed by Wes Craven.” She spoke. “Fuckery doo…okay…” She looked up and was thankful that the moon was still pretty bright. With a heavy sigh she headed out of the graveyard. Jennifer headed towards the direction she was fairly certain they had come from. There was…sort of a path through the trees. The starting point was down towards the bottom of the heavily treed hill where a parking lot sat, not really used. She’d been brought there by a van for the tour. If that ass left in the van before she got down, there she was going to set fire to something. Probably the van if she found it again with the idiot inside.

About twenty mins of walking later she crossed her arms in front of herself realizing her KISS Destroyer hoodie wasn’t near enough of a layer over her thin t-shirt. She was also realizing she was well and truly lost. “If I hear Ki ki ki ma ma ma at any moment I will crap myself.” She said through slightly chattering teeth. The moon decided it had done enough work for her and was now covered in black, oppressive clouds. Jen pulled her phone out and turned on the flashlight. Still no signal. She pondered what she’d done to piss off the universe. She came to a steep downgrade and carefully picked her way down. Luckily it wasn’t too bad for too long and evened out. Unfortunately it led to a thick patch of trees. Jen started praying to whoever was listening that there were no ticks or spiders around. Then she wanted to punch her own face for even thinking about ticks and spiders.

The phones light was barely helping due to the canopy of leaves and how close together everything was. After another few minutes though she heard something. It sounded like talking, movement. This didn’t look like it was near the parking lot though. Did lumberjacks work this late? Was this even a place lumberjacks would be? That made her remember how Dexter wound up ending and she got momentarily depressed. Then she heard the voices again. Well, people was a good thing, right? In the middle of the night in the woods. Jen realized caution might be a good idea.

She headed towards the voices, keeping her camera pointed to the ground and discovered the woods thinned out a bit here. There, in a tiny patch of cleared ground three men stood and one man was on his knees, hands tied behind his back. Jen’s eyes got wide as she saw the large gun in one of the men’s hands. The man on his knees was crying. “I swear to god Donnie…I didn’t want to do it. But they had pictures. I couldn’t…” The man on his knees sobbed. He was balding and looked like he was in his 60s. His face even from this distance was bruised and bloody.

“Shut the fuck up.” The one who was Donnie she assumed spoke harshly, kicking the man in the stomach and making him double over. “I don’t give a god damn about pictures. You sold us out. We’ve got a fuck ton of problems now. But we’re about to have less of one.” He spit on the man’s face and nodded to the other man with the gun. He was tall, unemotional, with a face as blank as a robot. His eyes were so dark they could have been black. He calmly raised the gun and shot the man in the head once and then in the back for good measure. The man fell to the ground in a heap.

Jen hadn’t even had time to react it had all happened so fast but in that moment when it hit her she stepped away in shock and horror, her foot cracking a twig and flashing her phone up towards them, the fucking light like a beacon. The murderers turned and looked straight at her. The one with the gun raised it and fired, but it missed her. And that’s all Jen needed to find the inner strength to sprint back the way she’d come.

“Get that bitch.” Donnie told Blake, the man with the gun and his partner Gary. “I’ll take care of this trash. Hurry the fuck up.”

Gary nodded, straightening the glasses on his head. He and Blake quickly moved towards where the witness had been. There was no way there was anyone else around. This spot was used specifically because no one ever came down there. They weren’t quiet running through the brush and trees. There was no need to be.

Jennifer was running like she never had before. Small branches slapped at her face and arms, and she nearly tripped three times. In her head from far away she thought about every idiot teenage girl who had tripped and died she’d made fun of in a slasher movie. “Sorry…” she thought as she cried. The crying was a problem and something she couldn’t stop or had control of. It was making it harder to breathe and she needed to breathe to run. Running was important as she scrambled up the now incline, her fingers digging into the dirt to make sure she didn’t slide back down. Where the fuck could she go? What the shit was she supposed to do?

She’d shoved her phone back into her pocket, not wanting the light to attract the two killers on her tail. She didn’t have service anyway even if she had a second to call the cops. She didn’t know anyone here. She was alone and it was dark, and she was going to die.

She broke through another barrier of trees, and she knew she had gone a different way than she’d come at that point in her scramble to get away. Jen tried to breathe, to calm her heart, but she felt like she was going to have a stroke. She glanced to her right and then her left, and that’s when she saw it. There was a gate, black wrought iron and it was open. She ran to it and glanced beyond it and realized the path led into part of the Emeritus church. The sprawling building loomed large above her suddenly. Well…the devil or death? Which did she want? Right then the devil was looking good. Jennifer quickly made her way down the pathway. There were little black iron solar lights that lit the stone walkway which was thankfully flat. Her legs were burning as bad as her lungs at this point.

The path led to two metal doors and Jen realized she may still be screwed if they were locked. She skidded to a halt and took a chance to look behind her. There was no one yet…but that didn’t mean anything. She took another breath and said a little prayer…not sure who might be answering them where she was trying to get into and grabbed the door handle. That’s when she heard the sounds of footsteps from far away, voices murmuring low. “Please please please…” she begged and pulled on the door handle. It swung open. She didn’t hesitate, she went in and pulled the door closed behind her.

Jen’s wide blue eyes glanced around the dimly lit hallway she found herself in. The air smelled of incense. It was cool inside the building and the sweat that had broken out during her run immediately started to get chilled and she shivered from a combination of that and pure fear. Her adrenaline was pumping. The men would figure out there was only one place she could have gone. She needed to hide. She turned right and moved quickly hoping not to run into anyone. Jen entered through another set of double doors, these not metal but stained dark wood. So far, she’d not seen anyone else and for that she was grateful. She just needed to hide away somewhere and think, just calm down and think. Maybe the church was empty…maybe they were on tour or something…

The double doors led to a short hallway that opened into what could only be called a small chapel. Though instead of a cross or a Jesus crucifixion scene in front of the pews there was a large statue of a very beautiful devil. His wings looked like they were carved out of black stone, maybe ebony or onyx though that would be a lot of onyx. The rest of him was marble. His horns wrapped backwards on a head covered in carved ringlets of hair like a really majestic goat. There was real red velvet draped over the statue whose right arm was raised, two fingers extended. His other hand was outstretched as if beckoning you. Jen was unnerved as she looked at it, the chill on her skin seemingly growing. Then she heard a door slam, and it pulled her out of wherever her mind was going.

The room smelled even stronger of incense and was lit with black candles and a low light from a red and clear crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling. There were pews, the pulpit area and over on the far right what looked like a small, dark wood confessional. That was the only place she could really try to hide in she saw. She glanced back once hoping it was just some friendly neighborhood satanist that had closed a door and then moved quickly to the confessional. She opened the door and closed it quickly, ignoring the seat and sitting on the floor. She drew her knees up to her chin and felt the tears on her cheeks again, not able to stop them. Jen tried to breathe quietly, tried to calm down. They’d hear her sounding like a dying elephant if she didn’t get this under control. And that’s when the divider slid open making her jerk.

A softly accented voice spoke through the partition “Hello…hi?”

Jen realized there was a priest or someone on the other side…oh shit she’d dragged someone into this. She whispered as low as she could, realizing that the man couldn’t see her where she was hunkered on the floor. “I’m..down here…please…I just need to hide.”

“Sorella…” The man’s voice took on a note of concern. She glanced up and saw an eye looking through the partition. It was white as the ivory of the statue. It widened in surprise. “What is the matter dolce signora?” He asked her.

Jen swallowed thickly; how much should she say? She needed to hide. This guy could just as easily say “Here she is boys. Hail Satan.” But for some reason his voice made her think he wouldn’t. “There are….men…they’re after me. Please I just need to hide until they leave…they’ve got a gun…maybe more than one.” She had to warn him.

She saw a bit more of his face then as he leaned closer to the divider. It was dark but she could see him more clearly as he appeared to be studying her. Jen recognized him as the paints on his face came into view, the green eye and the white. Holy crap this was the guy. This was the lead of the band. And he was taking confessions? What the hell would satanic confessions deal with? And good god this was all really happening to her. A wave of nausea came over her and she had to fight the bile coming up her throat.

“Signora, are you hurt? Have they harmed you?” He asked her gently.

Jennifer shook her head. “No…no…I just need to hide.”

She rested her forehead on her knees. Italian…he was speaking Italian mixed with English. That’s what the accent was. It just kept becoming more surreal. She remembered the accent from the concert videos. He didn’t have it when he sang. But he had it when he was talking to the audience.

She heard it then, the door opening to the chapel. Footsteps. Two sets of them. It was them. It had to be them. She saw the dual-colored eyes glance up at the sound and she started shaking. Well, this was it…spur of the moment decisions have led you to a satanic church and dying horribly. Great job girl. Here lies Jennifer Travers…she fucked up a lot. Only she wouldn’t have a tombstone, it would be a shallow grave in the woods where she’d end up feeding a group of feral badgers with her rotting corpse. Maybe they would be cute badgers. Fuck.

He looked back down at her. “Signora,” he whispered softly, “Stay here, do not make a noise, si?”

Jen nodded, realizing she was trusting a complete stranger with her life at this point. What else could she do?

Blake and Gary glanced around the chapel, starting to move through the pews, looking for where the woman could have gone. Blake glanced at the statue of Lucifer and paused, feeling like the thing was watching them. He knew what the place was, but he’d not been inside. Gary touched his shoulder and he nearly jumped. He pointed towards the confessional booth and nodded. They started heading that way when the door to the priests side opened.

Out stepped a man in black robes with gold and blue satin accents. Golden upside-down crosses where stitched into the fabric. He wasn’t tall, but he had a presence that was only made more intense by the fact his face was painted like a stylized skull. His brown hair was brushed back from his face, greying at the temples with thin lines on his face showing he wasn’t exactly a young man anymore. Blake was weirded out though by the eyes when he saw them. Ringed in the black makeup they were different colors. One green, one white, both of them staring at him and Gary in a way that made him as unnerved as the devil statue.

“Benvenuti Fratelli,” the man said, his black gloved hands raised, pressed together and giving a little bow. “I am Papa Emeritus the 4th…are you here for confession?” He asked them, one brow raised. “I was just getting ready to lock up for the night.”

Blake looked at Gary. Gary was the talker. He glanced at the strange man shaking his head. “No we’re not here to confess. We’re looking for someone. Anyone else come through this way? Anyone try to break in?”

Copia Emeritus lowered his hands while studying the two men in front of him. Something in them reeked of malice and he could sense it. It was part and parcel of being a Papa. You knew who to protect your flock from when you were in a church like theirs. He wouldn’t have needed to hear the terrified sorella in the confessional’s words to know these two were dangerous. He saw the bulky outline of the gun in a holster beneath the tall ones jacket. He’d seen enough crime films and series to know what to look for when it came to that too.

He pursed his lips. “It’s not really possible to break in here. All are welcome at our church.” Copia walked closer to the men, away from the hiding place of the woman and making sure their eyes followed him. “Even you signories if you wish to join us.”

Gary gave a cold smile. “We’re not really the church going type.” He replied.

Copia nodded, returning the smile with as much of a chilly demeanor as the man in front of him. “Well, that is too bad, si? Perhaps someday.” He gave a slight shrug. “But as I said, I am getting ready to lock up for the night.”

The double doors opened then, as if on cue and in walked three figures in all black, silver matching masks on their faces, each a devil with no eyes. One was bigger than the others but all three looked as though they could bench press a truck. Copia glanced over “Ah, tempismo perfetto.” He turned to the new arrivals. “These gentlemen were just leaving, would you be so kind as to as to show them out? Grazie.” With a graceful wave of his hand he motioned for the two men to head towards the doors.

Blake looked at Gary and Gary gave a subtle shake of his head. He knew she was here somewhere. There was nowhere else she could have gone. But they couldn’t do anything right now…there were too many people, and it would be too big a mess. And the silver masked figures were making the hair raise on the back of his neck. He moved and Blake followed him as they walked out. Gary turned to the painted faced freak. “We might stop back now that you mention it.”

Copia raised a brow. “Of course, as I said all are welcome. We’d love to have you.” He gave him another slight bow as they walked out into the hallway, the doors closing behind them, his smile making his face look even more skull like for a moment.

Gary narrowed his eyes, trying to ignore the weird feeling creeping up his spine at the entire group of freaks. Donnie wouldn’t be happy about losing the woman, but then again…he knew she wasn’t really lost. She was here somewhere in the freak house. He followed Blake and the three silver masked weirdos.

When the doors closed behind them Copia moved to slide the lock in place. He took a breath and let it out slowly. He hadn’t expected a confrontation like that tonight. Nor had he expected a frightened woman cowering in his confessional. He needed to find out what had happened, the whole story. And he needed to make sure the lady was okay.

Copia very slowly opened the door to the confessional area and saw her with her head laying on her knees still, shaking like a leaf. She looked up suddenly and he saw the tear streaks on her face. Her face has a few cuts and marks on it from dirt. Her knees and hands were covered in it as well. Her blue eyes were the color of the satin on his robes, but they were rimmed in red from her tears. They were wide and terrified as they looked up at him.

The Papa crouched down, taking a knee next to her and held out a gloved hand. “Cara, they are gone. You are safe here.” He said softly. She was scared and looked at any moment she’d try to bolt away. He couldn’t have her doing that since the safest place she could be right then was inside the church. “I’m Papa Emeritus the 4th….but you can call me Copia.” He gave her a small smile.

She didn’t seem to be convinced yet that she was actually safe with him. He noticed the front of her hoodie and gave a slight nod, his smile growing, “Ah, you are a fan of singers in makeup, si?”

Jennifer realized what he was talking about. The irony was actually funny as she took a breath and wiped her eyes. “Yeah…yes…I grew up listening to them.”

Copia nodded. “I did as well.” He decided this was working, get her mind on something else. “Who was your favorite cara?”

Jen found her breathing was getting easier. She wasn’t trying to gulp air into lungs that didn’t want to work. “Uh…I always liked The Starchild…but The Demon was great…he was a vampire first though.” Rattling off Kiss trivia…she’d nearly been shot, and she was talking about Gene Simmons and spewing blood.

The Papa nodded, “Well, due to my position I must go with The Demon as a personal favorite, eh? But The Starchild has a voice…” Here he placed two fingers to his lips and did an air kiss. “Bellissimo.”

Jennifer laughed…she actually laughed. Just another surreal experience in a night filled with them “I guess you would be team demon.”

“Si, I would.” He reached closer to her with his hand, “Cara, would you like to go somewhere more comfortable than the floor?”

She nodded then and he helped her to stand. Her legs were sore, and she was glad he offered her a helping hand. She nearly stumbled but he steadied her. “Sorry…I’m…I ran up the hill and it wasn’t great.” She let go of his hand and looked at her own, covered in dirt and cuts from clawing up it.

Copia saw the state of her more clearly now. It was obvious she’d been through an ordeal already. She was still shaking though she’d calmed down some. “I can imagine.” He said, “May I have your name?” He asked her.

“Jennifer…Jen…I’m…” She felt a little woozy. “I’m…okay…I think I may need to sit down.”

Copia took her arm. “Jennifer you are safe here as I said. We are a haven for those in need and trouble.” He led her over to one of the pews. “Here, allow me to take your bag.” Jen slid the straps off her shoulders and watched Copia place it next to her. She sat down on the cushioned seat.

Copia examined her a bit closer. She was pale, very pale. He realized whatever had happened she was going into or was already in shock. “Jennifer,” he said her name and she glanced up at him. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Jen wanted to tell him. She needed to tell someone and the nice guy in the skull make up was right there. But when she started thinking about it her lungs started to ache. “They…they killed…oh god they killed that guy…” She managed to get out.

Copia’s eyes widened. Oh Dark Lord…she’d witnessed a murder? “You saw this happen cara?” He asked, sitting down next to her.

She shook her head yes. “They shot him…twice. I…I couldn’t do anything it happened so fast.” She turned and looked at him. “They saw me and they…they shot at me. And I ran.” Her voice was breaking, she couldn’t breathe as the image of the man’s head basically exploding came to her unbidden. She was trembling so hard that she thought she was going to break apart. But she couldn’t stop it, she tried but she couldn’t.

Suddenly she stood up and started backing away from the nice satanist. She’d just told him what had happened. “I’m…I shouldn’t have…” She was rambling and Jen found herself growing dizzy. They’d want to kill him too now, right? She’d just signed this rock stars death warrant, hadn’t she? The nice devil guy with the pretty green eye. Oh god there were black spots in front of her.

Copia stood up and moved close to her. He’d been to enough concerts to tell when someone was about to collapse from heat exhaustion or something else. And right then she was having a hell of a panic attack, something he was personally familiar with. “Jennifer, you’re okay…it’s okay…” He moved closer to her slowly.

“No…no…not…okay…” Oh god, she couldn’t feel her legs. The blood rushed from her head, and she felt herself buckling. She started to hit the floor and felt arms catching her, heard the rustling of fabric as she was caught before she could. The scent of incense was stronger than before. She glanced up and through a haze she saw a skull staring down at her and three silver-headed demons. Before she blacked out completely, she realized…she felt safe.

TRANSLATIONS: Benvenuti Fratelli - Welcome Brothers Sorella - Sister Cara - Dear Si - Yes Signora - Lady

[ghulehunknown]

DAY 2 of KINKTOBER is HERE! 🎃

**RATING: EXPLICIT** ***NSFW***

Also available on AO3

“I Wanna Be Yours”

TerzoxOmega

Summary: Terzo and Omega get together after a tour dress rehearsal, and reveal their true feelings.

Reader Notes: gender neutral terms are used for Omega’s body, and masculine terms are used for Terzo’s.

Warnings/Tags: Terzomega, gender neutral, oral sex, fingering, penetrative sex, rough fuck, size difference, Terzo moaning, I wrote this instead of sleeping

Word Count: 2K

.

Terzo may have posed himself as an overconfident, cocksure asshole but Omega knew Terzo was a shell of a man who longed to love and be loved in return.

When the crowds and adoring fans were gone Terzo would often wallow in the emptiness and serotonin crash, finding himself at the bottom of an empty bottle. He never found solace in the drink; it was only a distraction to pass out intoxicated in the dressing rooms after a show.

Omega would find him tired but half-belligerent and carry him back to the hotel room for the night, making sure to tuck him in propped up with pillows before sweetly kissing his cheek and turning off the lights. Thankfully they were taller and broader than Terzo, and it was easy to swat away his drunken attempts to push them away. It pained them to see him this way, but he wasn’t always like this.

On the road or back at the Ministry, Terzo would take pleasure wherever and whenever he wanted, with whomever he wanted. But Omega knew they were his favorite, because he kept coming back for more. The way he would tease them onstage and strutted, almost like he was begging to get fucked. Omega would oblige, everytime, because Papa was the most generous lover they ever had. And who wouldn’t want to get fucked by an Emeritus - to be chosen?

Tonight he was in a good mood (and most importantly, sober). They were about to kick off another tour and had a successful dress rehearsal back at the Ministry. In between a couple of sets, he tried out a few new comedic lines, making flirtatious quips at Omega.

“Omega - take me right here, right now, Omega,” he growled to the invisible audience. “I want to be yours, Omega.” Thankfully, Omega was in their mask to hide blushing cheeks. Last Thursday the pair were in his office on the plush leather couch and Terzo was on top, Omega easily bouncing him up and down on their lap. The soft ways he said Omega’s name onstage sounded just like his desperate whimpers from that day.

The two walked back together to Terzo’s bedroom, laughing about the similarities of their last sexual encounter to his ritual standup “comedy.” Omega playfully pushed Terzo down the hall, a small power trip, knowing they could dominate Papa if they wanted to.

But tonight Terzo was the one in the mood for dominating. As soon as they were inside his room, Terzo trapped the ghoul by pinning them to the wall.

“Take this damn thing off so I can kiss you,” he said, not even waiting for Omega before ripping off the mask and tossing it on his dresser. He took the ghoul’s face in his hands and planted his mouth on theirs.

“Mmm!” Omega murmured into Terzo’s mouth, taken by surprise. Their lips parted to meet his, delicately caressing Papa’s. Papa met their soft touch with a coarse, primal urgency.

He pawed at their shirt, wanting to rip off the buttons - but suddenly remembered Sister would have his head if she had to order another costume in time for their performance. He huffed in annoyance, knowing he had neither the patience nor gracefulness in that moment not to rip the shirt off their back. “Take it off.” He pursed his lips, waiting impatiently to lay with his mate.

Seeing Papa so flustered and bothered made their thoughts race in such a way that would even make Lucifer blush. They unbuttoned the top and unzipped the pants, placing the show costume on the back of the leather side chair carefully to hopefully avoid wrinkles and having to iron it last minute. Why did humans even worry about such trivial things as clothes and their presentation anyway? They kicked off their shoes, and stood in front of Papa in just their boxer-briefs.

Terzo traced invisible lines along Omega’s chest with his fingertips, admiring his paramour. “Così perfetto,” he breathed, looking up into their eyes. As he gazed at Omega’s perfect body, the ghoul began to undress Papa, undoing all his buttons and zippers, until he too was standing in his underwear.

Suddenly his primadonna came out and he took his suit from Omega, waltzing over to the closet. He pulled a hanger out and carefully hung up his garments. “You better be completely naked by the time I come back,” he called. He walked back in, and they were both bare, gazing at one another longingly.

“On the bed,” he commanded, motioning for the ghoul to heed his order. Omega obeyed and backed into the bed, playfully spreading their legs apart, ensuring Terzo would get a good look at their sex.

He leaned against the wall, finally pulling off his gloves. “I am going to fuck you now, caro mio,” Terzo stated, as if that was not apparent to Omega by now.

He gazed down below Omega’s navel, in between their inner thighs. He wanted to bury his face in their soft, wet flesh and drink them.

“Are you waiting for an engraved invitation?” Omega asked, a half-cocked smile on their face.

Terzo shook his head and exhaled sharply out of his nose, always amused at their cheek, consistently choosing just the right moment to playfully sass their Papa. He rolled his eyes at Omega before sliding onto the bed and hooking his arms underneath their legs.

Terzo nipped at Omega’s thighs, his little bites turning into pecks peppering their legs until getting closer and closer. Terzo started to lightly suck on their swollen sex, a groan escaping his lips buzzing against flesh, in turn eliciting a small cry from Omega.

“Alla mia piccola puttana piace?” Terzo asked, knowing full well Omega did not currently have the cognitive ability to translate his provocative phrases. When Omega did not respond (as expected), Terzo chuckled and murmured, “Il mio piccolo tesoro,” before continuing.

Now that, Omega understood - and smiled, before shifting their hips a little on Terzo’s mouth for more friction. Terzo’s raven hair fell down in front of his face and tickled the inside of their thighs. Terzo bobbed his head up and down, alternating between sucking and flicking his tongue, and every so often would glance up and look into Omega’s eyes - which were closed for the most part. Omega grabbed a fistful of Terzo’s dark locks, pulling him closer and grinding on his face.

“Così impaziente per il tuo Papa,” Terzo said, breaking away, an arrogant smile on his face. He pet their entrance with the tip of his finger playfully.

Omega nearly rolled their eyes at his brash behaviors, still not quite able to translate but understanding the meaning from his tone of voice regardless. Terzo had a habit of falling into his mother tongue when engrossed in his affairs, a frantic attempt to seem more alluring and mysterious. They did not fall into Terzo’s laid traps, but instead fell for the man he truly was; passionate and sentimental, their lover. If only the third Emeritus knew how to genuinely be himself…

Their thoughts trailed off and eyes fluttered, as Terzo continued in a more frenzied pace, his finger still hovering over their entrance.

He spat on his hand and slipped two fingers inside, Omega’s body welcoming him in with ease. “Cazzo, così fottutamente stretto e bagnato,” he groaned into the sheets, shifting on the mattress, almost humping it. Omega gasped and clung to the sheets as Terzo brushed against their sensitive spot. “Mi fa venire voglia di essere dentro di te, ma hai un sapore così dolce,” he continued, whining in a bratty manner.

Omega looked at him, sure of his intent but unsure of the words. “English,” they grunted through moans.

“I cannot decide if I want to continue tasting you, or be inside you,” Terzo said, sitting up and watching their chest rise and fall as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of their entrance. He rested his chin on their knee, pouting.

“If I taste so good, then why did you stop?” they asked, looking up at him seductively.

Terzo rolled his eyes once more and dove back in, inhaling their scent and lapping up their juices, fingering Omega close to orgasm but stopping just short of letting them cum. He withdrew his fingers and cleaned them off in his mouth. “I can’t have you cum so soon,” he said, watching their chest heave and their hips twitch towards his now fully erect cock.

Omega clutched at Terzo’s thighs, desperately trying to get him closer. He stood up and began to rummage in his nightstand drawer, pulling out a sleeve of condom wrappers and tearing one off.

“Don’t,” Omega whispered breathlessly, propping themselves up on their elbows. “I want to feel you - all of you.”

“You sure?” Terzo asked, raising an eyebrow. “We’ve never - ”

“Yes,” Omega interrupted him.

“Okay,” he responded, not completely sold on the idea. “I’m not going to cum inside you.” He put the condoms back in the drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube.

Omega nodded in response. “I just need to feel you.”

“Mmm, how badly do you need me?” he asked, smirking as he slid back onto the bed, hovering over them. He held himself up over them, placing the head of his cock at their entrance teasingly while spreading lube on himself and Omega.

Omega whimpered quietly, needing to be filled by their Papa. “Please Papa,” they whispered.

“So formal.” He cocked his head to the side, looking into the ghoul’s eyes with warmth and affection.

“My Terzo, please.”

“‘My Terzo’?” he quizzed.

His Grucifix necklace dangled onto Omega’s chest, a stinging cold from the metal combined with Terzo’s mimic of them snapping them out of their enamored gaze. “Oh shit - I mean, I just meant - ”

“Shhh,” Terzo said, shutting them up with a long and passionate kiss on the lips. “I want to be yours, Omega. Tonight I am yours.” He sloppily and hastily kissed along the ghoul’s face, then turned them on their side. He kneeled beside them, his cock level with their entrance, and held onto their hip and upper thigh.

He slid inside them, having worked them up enough that their body invited him in effortlessly. “Fuck!” he shouted at the same time Omega gasped. “Mmm… così buono per me. Stai andando così bene per Papa.” He couldn’t help but thrust fast in and out, clinging onto their hip and pummeling into them in a furious, excited passion. Omega caught a glimpse of his face contorted in pleasure. He let out ecstatic cries with wanton abandon as he dug his nails into their skin, pushing them deeper into the mattress.

In a single motion, he flipped Omega onto their stomach, thrashing in and out of them wildly, pushing their head down into the pillows. Omega choked and gasped through Terzo’s every motion, climax inching closer and closer. In this position - expertly planned - Terzo was hitting their spot perfectly with each thrust.

“Ohh, fuck - !” the ghoul screamed as they came, Terzo still penetrating quickly. They shuddered underneath him, body pulsing around Terzo’s cock, squeezing him and making him lose control and roughly fuck into them even harder.

“Oh Lucifer, dio mio,” Terzo murmured along with several strung together Italian curses, while slipping out. With one hand on the back of Omega’s head, the other on his cock, he shot lines of warm cum all over their back, grunting, each stroke shooting more out.

He caught his breath a little, then reached for the tissue box on the nightstand, and wiped his cum off Omega’s back gingerly. He brushed softly, admiring the soft curvature of their back and the little dimples just above the ghoul’s ass.

Terzo laid beside Omega, who rolled onto their back next to a panting Terzo, both exhausted and spent. “Potrei innamorarmi di te,” he said, confidently believing Omega still did not know enough Italian to comprehend.

Oh the folly of an arrogant man, thought Omega. He’d spoken enough Italian around the ghouls that they had all picked up a little bit of his language. Now that Omega wasn’t being pummeled within an inch of their life, they understood. They smiled softly, unbeknownst to Terzo who closed his eyes and began to drift asleep.

…

Italian to English

- Così perfetto (So perfect)

- caro mio (my dear)

- Alla mia piccola puttana piace? (Is my little whore enjoying this?)

- Il mio piccolo tesoro (My good little dear)

- Così impaziente per il tuo Papa (So eager for your Papa)

- Cazzo, così fottutamente stretto e bagnato (Fuck, so fucking tight and wet)

- Mi fa venire voglia di essere dentro di te, ma hai un sapore così dolce (Makes me want to be inside you, but you taste so sweet)

- così bravo per me. Stai andando così bene per Papa. (so good for me. You’re doing so well for Papa.)

- dio mio (my god)

- Potrei innamorarmi di te (I could fall in love with you)

[profanepurity]

I am here to knock on your door and peer inside for any Sister Diana and Bellamy info, because this is my fave AU now. I am very greedy and wish to know more (also Secondo being a girl dad, MY HEART)

Not only is Papa Emeritus Secondo a girl dad, but Bellamy also has two very evil satanic cardinals for uncles that watch very R-rated horror movies with her when they babysit. Don't worry, Copia always fast-forwards through the really bad parts, despite Terzo saying "she already knows about that stuff". Bellamy loves horror movies (and spending time with them), but C still got her that rat plushy for when she spends the night- which she named Lumaconi.

Lol so this response got super plot-driven, which is why it took ages to finish, I’m so sorry about that! This is going to focus mostly on how Secondo met Sister Diana when he was a Cardinal under Primo’s papacy, the ‘ghuleh’ that haunts the mortuary, and baby Bellamy. I really wish I could have rendered these, but I just didn't have the time unfortunately 😞

TW: This gets spicy. There are mentions of sex and suggestive imagery, but nothing explicit. Also TONS of angst. Mentions of death and blood. 

Thank you so much for your ask. Your support means the world to me! Enjoy 🖤

Diana was taken in as an orphan by the church as a young teen. Despite her unknown family history, she quickly grew accustomed to her new home at the ministry. She met Eliza when she began training to take her official vows. Their relationship started out as mentor and mentee but grew into a friendship once Diana had taken her final vows. Despite there being a bit of an age gap, they quickly became very close. Diana would often pull some of Eliza’s darkness out of her, encouraging her to “have some fun”, while Eliza was more the voice of reason. After Primo and Eliza married, you better believe Diana’s teasing was relentless, and even more so when Eliza was made Prime Mover. Though this came to bite Diana in the ass when she started eyeing Primo’s first younger brother, much to Eliza’s delight.

Primo seemed to ascend from a Cardinal to Papa in the blink of an eye, taking Eliza as his Prime Mover and promoting Secondo to a Cardinal. Secondo was of course no less lively decades ago than he is now. His reputation among the siblings of sin and even to a few outside followers/ connections with the church was nothing short of promicuous. While he continued to appreciate the pleasures of the flesh and substance, Secondo was perhaps lesser known to be quite active within the dark arts. His nose was either in a grimoire or a porn mag, no in between. 

Diana had taken her place overseeing the mortuary of the church, having a fascination with the dead and the dark powers that collect the soul as they are taken to Hell. When Secondo happened to find himself drifting towards the art of necromancy, the mortuary was the first place he looked for “research materials”. The first night Secondo met her, Sister Diana had been sewing a newly dead sibling back together after she had embalmed them and performed the ceremonial ritual to send off their soul. This hauntingly gorgeous sister, clad in a white, bat-like Cornette, with a cold gaze that would often unsettle other siblings of sin, lifted her eyes to him, and allowed the corners of her full lips to curl in a small, but controlled smile. There was no shyness or intimidation on her face by the sight of Cardinal Emeritus II, like so many siblings often had. She moved like a ghost around her table, silent, floating like a flower petal. You could say it was Asmodeus himself who brought them together, consuming them with the delightful sin of lust. 

Diana was charmed by his demanding presence and intense stare, and her odd serenity and striking beauty enamored Secondo. It was suppose to just be a one time thing. One night turned into two, and then a month later Secondo was having her sit on his lap while sipped on scotch, her hands resting on his chest as music served as pleasant background noise for them to enjoy eachother’s bodies tol. Then they were driving with the top down through the night lit streets of LA, and he got to see her hair whip around her face, free from her habit, as they went club to club; drinking, laughing, fucking. Next thing he knew Secondo awoke one morning to a spare toothbrush in his bathroom and spare clothing having found a permanent residence in his quarters. What shocked him more so was that he didn’t seem to mind.

At first, Secondo assumed these many shared nights were what caused him to find himself coming back to her time and time again. It was only natural, to bond with someone, it had been a year at this point after all. But what he would never admit to himself, was that the long, deep conversations he would find himself sharing with her within the private walls of his quarters, late at night, made him feel connected to someone else in a way he’d never been before. No, seeing the same lust within her for both carnal explorations and for knowlege of the dark arts that he shared himself was not at all attractive to him. Waking up to her presence in his bed, wearing his shirt, sharing his warmth vulnerably, showing her trust in him despite being reserved and isolate to nearly everyone else, did not melt his heart in the slightest. 

Sister Diana challenged him as an equal intellectually. Secondo knew of Diana’s unwavering nature, her own ambitions and independence, yet she allowed him to hold her. To lead her in a dance. To keep his hand on the small of her back as they walked. She willingly submitted her body to him, as he did to her too, behdind closed doors. 

He loved the way she would look at his younger brother Cardinal Emeritus III, not with carnal desire like some of the other siblings, but she would rather toy with him and match his own advances in a playful manner. Not once did Sister Diana look at anyone else like she looked at him, and only he would ever know that.

All that being said, Secondo has never, and may never be exclusive to anyone, as monogamy was never something he was drawn to in his life. Thankfully Diana felt the same way about her own sexuality. They silently understood this between eachother, despite never actually having a real conversation about it. Still, they would sit in the library for hours as they studied together. She would come up to the quarters of the high clergymen and massage his shoulders as he finished paper work. He would come down to the morgue to bring her coffee and food when she would be working nights. There was no denying their love for eachother.

Their meetings fell into a comfortable routine. So you can image how it confused Secondo when Sister Diana wasn’t in the mortuary at the time she usually was every other day. How it started to make his brow crease when he couldn’t find her anywhere else in the church. The Cardinal found her in the very last place he chose to look for her in. Perhaps if he had gone to her room first, things would have been different. Perhaps he wouldn’d have found her lifeless body, mutilated and pale, blood already beginning to dry upon her skin and the carpet as she layed on her bedroom floor. 

I briefly mention this scene in one of my one shots, “Child of Her Grave”, but of course I’m slightly changing how it goes already lol. But anyway, the family was in shambles to say the least.

Secondo had come to Primo in a daze. He didn’t know how long he stayed by her body, completely shell-shocked at the sight until he decided to knock on his brother’s door at 2 in the morning. The unlit halls of the church disguised her blood that now stained his cheek and clothing. He simply told Primo that Sister Diana had been killed, unable to utter anything more. 

Her death occured on the same day that an incredibly important ritual needed to be performed. It had only been hours after Secondo told Papa Primo that he was now faced with having to tell his Prime Mover that her best friend had been murdured over night. 

The combination of seeing his brother struggling to process finding his lover’s body, and holding Eliza against him as sobs racked her body, was the most torturous thing Primo had ever experienced. But they were left with no time to process their grief.

The higher clergy, along with Sister Imperator, were adamant with Papa Primo that the ritual not be delayed simply because of one sibling’s funeral. But when Papa didn’t come when he was summoned for the ritual, several Bishops stormed his quarters in anger and frustration at the delay of the incredibly time-sensitive ceremony that still needed hours of prep work before dawn. Primo was considered one of the more patient Papas that was very difficult to truly anger, yet he didn’t feel an ounce of remorse as he killed one of the Bishops for daring to raise his voice while Eliza was shaking violently against his chest.

Her burial ceremony was quiet. Secondo sat by her grave afterward and refused to move. It broke Primo’s heart that he wasn’t able to attend with Eliza and his brother. He got there as soon as he could, heading straight to his cardinal. He had been aware of his relationship with Sister Diana, it had been obvious to Papa that the year they spent together has made his brother close to her, even if Secondo himself refused to admit it. He could only imagine his pain. Someone was standing over his brother- who he barely registered, thinking it was their father Nihil deciding to be present. Primo was not prepared to see the wrath of Satan in his brother’s eyes. He should have known then that Second Emeritus was planning something in his silent anguish, but Primo found a brief sense of relief knowing the Old One was with him when he couldn’t be.

The ritual had required Carinal Emeritus III and Cardinal Copia to be in attendance of course. The roles of the two satanic princes of the church had been flipped. Terzo was the one now wringing his hands and stuttering over his words. Both of them wanted to be with Secondo, but Copia sent him off before they left the offices of the higher clergymen. It was important that at least one of them was there.

Terzo felt his heart hammer in his chest as his legs carried him across the cemetery.Even when they were boys, Terzo had never seen Secondo cry. His brother was always so stoic. Secondo took everything in stride and grace, and demanded nothing but authority in every situation. But when he reached his destination, Terzo stared at a man that was just as lifeless as the bodies six feet under them. 

He was almost afraid to touch him. He didn’t want to upset his brother further, but Terzo couldn’t bring himself to leave either. The younger brother’s throat tightened and he stood rigid- but soon eased himself beside his superior dark Eminence, sitting on the painfully cold metal bench that faced her grave.

He held his breath for Secondo to snap and tell him to fuck off, he almost wanted him to, just to have a sign of normalcy from his brother. When that never came, he slipped his arms around him, and just press himself as close as he could, remaining silent. When there was still no reaction from Secondo, he laced his hand in his and squeezed.

 “Ti voglio bene...”

Terzo hated how his voice shook and cracked when he whispered it against Secondo’s shoulder. He needed to get a fucking grip- 

Weakly, Secondo finally squeezed Terzo’s hand back. Oh- Lucifer, he can’t cry. That’s all it took for Terzo to press his face against his brother’s shoulder and hug him tightly. 

Thunder raged in the distance when Terzo’s blinding white eye spotted one of Nihil’s ghouls walking over to Imperator at the top of the stairs to the church's entrance. The sight of dried blood on black fabric made violet lightning split the sky- before an explosive peal broke the silence.

To this day they still don’t know exactly which ghoul murdered her.

As soon as the moon had cast a blinding glow upon the cemetery did Seconod’s mourning cease. He has been mentally preparing to recite the words of the many grimoires he’d read with Sister Diana, realizing that the dark arts had brought them together for a specific purpose, in this moment, he would raise her from the earth. It needed to be done before the decay of her internal organs began. It was the most demanding casting Secondo had done at that point in his practice. But by the time the moon was at its peak in the sky, Diana rose from her grave, her skin sickly, bones snapping back into place and mending her body where it had been broken. Standing in a horrific sight from the hole she clawed herself out of. Her hand’s blacked and clawed, raw from scratching out of her own casket. Yet she smiled at him like the day he met her.

Now you can really imagine the family’s reaction, seeing the dead sister walking through the halls the following day of her funeral. Sister Imperator seemed especially stunned, for whatever reason. I’ll have to draw some of these reactions later lol.

Thankfully not much changed after that, as Diana kept to herself mostly, her returned presence was not immediately noticed by the rest of the church. The siblings would of course rumor that a ghost haunted the mortuary, with exposed bone and rotting flesh. None of this was true of course. Secondo only noticed she was colder to the touch now, and smelled more like the earth, but her beauty and mind were in tact. He knew why Lucifer brought them together that day with necromancy, and he was now more driven than ever to master the evil forces. 

Nonetheless, Cardinal Secondo and Sister Diana were very happy to be reunited. Bellamy was born just a little over a year after her mother’s resurrection, as physical proof of that rejoined love. 

Currently, in the timeline of this au, Bellamy is now seven years old and Second is now Papa Emeritus II. There will be more content to come with her, I know this response is getting stupidly long lol. For now, I’ll end it with this goof ass doodle of Bellamy’s dedication ceremony to Lucifer and Lilith, actually led by Papa Nihil, who shockingly volunteered to dedicate his granddaughter to the Lords of Hell at the altar. 

Primo better get a comfortable ass seat in hell for the shit he puts up with.

That’s all for now 💐🖤

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

What would the Emeritus brothers be like with a bilingual s/o? Specifically, one whose mother tongue they don’t speak? Like Spanish, Portuguese, or Mandarin, to name a few examples.

Thanks for opening up requests! Love your blog! 🖤

Thank you so much!! <3 I hope you enjoy!! <3 

Papas with a Bilingual S/O 

You did ask for an S/O with a mother tongue the Papas did not speak, so I’m going to follow that guideline. But I DID just want to add a fun fact in there as well! 

The Papas are actually all polyglots, meaning they can all speak multiple languages! Some more than others for one reason or another. When it comes to being a demonic pope with legions in so many parts of the world, you HAVE to speak so many different ones! However, this doesn’t mean they all speak every language to exist (except maybe Primo.) 

I also kept the reader’s native tongue vague so you can apply whichever you’d like! :)

-

Papa Nihil: He might speak several languages, but he’s not exactly the best at picking up new ones these days. Sometimes you can’t teach an old dog new tricks… but that doesn’t mean he won’t try! Whether he learns your native tongue or not, Nihil is happy to listen to you speak. Nihil adores when you playfully teach him new words or phrases. He is happy to use the best ones on you! Nihil is happy to know enough of your first language to convey his feelings or know yours. So expect him to at least know how to tell you he loves you, or that he wants you to have a good day. Truthfully, when it comes to his love of horror movies he might ask you to translate certain iconic scenes into your native tongue! And best of all? He will be putty in your hands when you flirt in your native language! Daily you get a lot of, “Amore, how do you say *insert random mundane word* in-?” Random words he has asked about so far; TV, blanket, carrot, window, Ghoul, screw driver, and swimming.

Papa I: You would be hard pressed to find a language Papa couldn’t speak, or at the very least understand everything you were saying. Papa is a legendary linguist within the Ministry, and has led many apprentices in keeping dead languages alive. But that doesn’t mean his verbal speaking is perfect in every tongue! So he was delighted when you were open to letting him learn more from you with your first language. These impromptu lessons are actually what caused you both to become close friends and eventually a couple! Papa appreciates all your efforts in teaching him, and he is a fast learner. He has even gone so far as to encourage you to teach lessons to the siblings of sin, if you were so inclined! In your daily lives he will always speak to you or leave you thoughtful notes in your first language. The only difficulty he has is learning slang and common sayings… but you find it both hilarious and a bit adorable when he tries!  

Papa II: Funnily enough, you both don’t know each other’s first language. Most of your communication has been through English! So it was a fun time for you both when you became closer to deciphering each other’s native tongue. You mutually wanted to be able to understand each other in all three languages; Your first language, his Italian, and English! So it was a lot of work and fun together. Papa absolutely loves teaching you Italian every chance he can. Claiming that it just sounds so much better rolling off of your tongue. And in turn, he cherishes every time you sit in his lap to teach him more of your language. Papa picks it up rather fast, even if it’s not entirely perfect. You both eventually know enough to hold a conversation in each other’s mother tongue! Though Papa prefers letting you get to speak, no matter what the language is. He just finds your voice soothing overall. He also happily teaches you how to curse someone out so you can use it in the ministry! You laughed at the generous offer! 

Papa III: Ever the romantic, Papa finds it incredibly charming when you flaunt your linguistic skill around him! Language is such a beautiful and fascinating subject! There is nothing more interesting to him than learning how each different language communicates- especially when it comes to poetry and music. He is wrapped around your finger each time you use your first language to flirt with him. Papa will constantly encourage you to try and seduce him with your words (even if you only pretend. He’ll never know what you’re ACTUALLY saying if you say it with enough flirty tones!) While proficient in the languages he uses regularly for his Papal duties, it takes him a little longer than his eldest brother to pick up your first language. But that doesn’t stop him from trying! Papa will go out of his way to make sure he knows the basics so he can always tell you the most important phrases of your mother tongue! Such as ‘Good Morning/Night’, ‘Thank you’, all the pick up lines, and eventually ‘I love you.’ Though the majority of the time, he uses it to flirt with you or gossip. 

Papa IV/Cardinal Copia: One of the original reasons you fell for Copia was that he went out of his way to learn your native tongue when you first became friends. According to him, you always exclusively used Italian when speaking with him. It was only fair that he learned your first language too! Copia was a hobbyist linguist on top of being an official tome translator for the ministry at one point. So he was happy to learn a new language to converse with you! As a couple, this is one of his favorite ways to bond with you. He sees it as a chance to grow closer to you while perfecting his grammar and pronunciations! Typically, Copia will switch to your native tongue when you are alone or at home. But he’s also not above utilizing it in public when he doesn’t want others to eavesdrop… or just shit talk someone in the room he can’t stand.

[ghostchems]

Sweet 16. having your actions controlled by a shadow figure that's moving right outside your room

May I request a trip to spicy town with either Terzo or Dracopia? Your pick!

the phantom touch - papa emeritus iii x f!reader/cardinal copia x f!reader

this takes place after upiór (ao3 linky). i have wanted to return to this world so badly and this prompt absolutely kicked off the inspiration. 2k words of FILTH. FILTH. 18+! mdni! highly recommend reading upiór first :) ao3 link for this one!

Cardinal Copia has been gone on clergy business for the last week, leaving you alone in the abbey for the first time since you had been moved into his quarter. Except you aren’t really alone. There is a ghoul posted outside of your door, rotating every few hours to ensure that someone is always there, watching you. When you leave, they follow you and even after pleading with them that you just want time alone they tell you they are under strict orders to keep you safe. Copia is convinced that you are always in danger, especially when he is away.

But hasn’t the danger been dealt with already? Terzo is gone;  Copia banished him back to hell after he had turned on her (no thanks to the Cardinal laying out why it had been her fault all along, even if it was a lie). Nothing stands between him and the power he so desperately craves anymore but you still feel like a prisoner to him. Meanwhile, Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil are having him be their little errand boy but he is too under their thumb to see that they are merely using him. You keep your mouth shut, though, because most of this is only from what you’ve observed. It’s not like Copia has opened up to you about this, anyway. You feel like a pretty, little trophy of his. A reminder that he gets what he wants, no matter the cost.

It’s late and you’re snuggled up in bed beneath the softest, most luxurious covers you’ve ever felt. Being Copia’s pet has its perks, not that you would ever admit that to anyone. And even with him gone and with you having the bed all to yourself… some sick part of yourself misses him. Your mind starts to wander away from him, the yearning for the time before overtaking the perks of the now. You miss Terzo, even after everything. You hope that he’s found peace in hell, that he’s finally at rest with his brothers. You think about him so often, no matter how much you try to push him from your mind. 

Loving him was easy. The two of you got along and you had the most fun with him out of anyone you’ve ever dated. There seemed to be no consequences at the time and you were just enjoying him and his company. You feel you saw the real him more than anybody else — he was a goof but his emotions ran deep. 

You find yourself starting to doze off as you think of him and his delicate touch you feel a sudden gust of wind from nowhere. The room is lit up, no windows are open and the air is turned off. Your mind buzzes, almost as if someone is poking around it, and you sit up in bed to cast your gaze around the empty room. There’s nothing there but you feel it, something pulsing inside you.

And then you hear it.

I am here to ask for forgiveness, amore. 

The voice is unmistakably his. Even in death, Terzo knows how to find you. 

I am here to ask you for forgiveness and to give you a gift.

He starts to somehow take control of you and guides your hand over your body, groping and pinching your breasts through your black satin pajama top. You have no idea how he’s doing it but you know that it’s him. Terzo’s thoughts mix with yours — you see visions of Hell, visions of torture, but also visions of Primo, Secondo and him taking their rightful place. You’re distracted by these images while your hands work deftly to unbutton your top and then cup and knead your tender breasts. You give a soft groan, the touch undeniably his even though he is using your hands.

A gift for il amore mio.

Your breath starts to quicken as arousal spreads through you, your fingers rubbing at the peaked flesh of your nipples.Heat pools between your legs and you give a soft groan as you pinch at your nipple. One hand slips slowly down your stomach and pushes at your pajama bottoms and underwear. You feel insane… but stranger things have happened. You choose to lean into it, to believe it’s him and that he’s here possessing you to give you this gift. It feels like closure to you.

You wiggle out of your pajama pants and underwear, your palm pressing against your already swollen clit. His name falls from your lips in a needy moan. 

That’s it, amore.

Your other hand moves from your breast down to your dripping cunt, circling your lips tantalizingly slow. You lean your head back against your pillow, lips parted and eyes shut as one of your fingers slips inside. Words of encouragement fill your mind, loving words and sweet coos, and you find yourself getting lost in the feeling. You curl your finger inside of you just right, just as he would, finding that spot deep inside you that makes you tremble. You feel so free, more free than you have in months, and its building inside of you. He hasn’t even touched you for long and you’re already hurtling towards release — because it’s him. 

You’re so close; it’s dangling right in front of you, ready for you to dive for it when — 

“What have we here?”

You freeze, eyes darting to the voice, immediately feeling Terzo’s presence slip away. Copia leans in the doorway to their bedroom, in his usual black tailcoat, and crosses his arms. His lips curl into a slimy smirk as his eyes wander your body. You don’t even know how to react, still hazy from how you had touched yourself, eyes wide as your gaze meets Copia’s. You slowly slip your fingers out from inside of you, all too aware of the sound it makes. Your heart thunders in your chest, already so wound up from your release being cut off. 

“You couldn’t wait until I got home, yes? So needy for your Cardinal, aren’t you?” Copia slinks closer to you, his words going straight to your slick cunt. He’s always had this way about him, ever since he moved you into his quarters. You hate the way it makes you want him. The feeling of betrayal lingers in the back of your mind each time but that doesn’t stop you, it never does. “Give me your hand, amore.” He purrs, reaching out for it. You know exactly what he wants. You lift your hand, fingers still slick from touching yourself.

Copia grabs your hand by the wrist and brings your fingers to his lips, slipping them inside his mouth with a groan. His tongue swirls around your fingers, licking and sucking the slick off of them as his eyes squeeze shut from your delicious taste. Your lips part in a soft gasp, your cheeks flushing and the ache between your legs burning more than before. He pulls your fingers from his lips, still gripping your wrist tightly and presses a tender kiss to your palm. This is your reality: Terzo is gone and Copia is all that you have.

He lets your hand go and leans in, his nose just brushing against yours as you feel his hot breath on your lips. You can’t help it — your fingers card through his hair and pull him down to you, your mouth crashing against his. Copia hums into the kiss, his tongue pushing inside and you can taste yourself on it. He gets onto the bed, hands pushing apart your legs so that he can settle between them and he starts to slowly grind himself against, his cock already throbbing through his tight black pants. You groan into his mouth, your own hips jerking to meet his, desperate for some kind of friction.

“Fuck, amore.” Copia huffs as he pulls away from the kiss only to press his forehead against yours. He reaches down to work at his pants, tugging at the zipper while you take it upon yourself to unbutton his tailcoat. You’re almost frantic as you undo each button before pushing it over his shoulders just as Copia gets his cock free. He feels how urgent you are, how much you need him so he positions himself at your entrance, the head of his cock applying pressure to it and giving you a smug grin. “How badly do you need me, my sweet?” 

“Copia.” You whine and run your fingers up his chest, nails scratching lightly at his chest hair. You try to move, squirming below him for any kind of friction but he holds you in place and keeps his cock pressed almost into you. “P-please, I need you. I… I’ve been fantasizing about this ever since you left.” A lie. A little white lie but you see how Copia’s face lights up, encouraged by your response. He pushes in slowly, his eyes focused on your reaction as his own breath catches in his throat from how you stretch around him. A deep, shameless moan tumbles from your lips, your arms curling around his shoulders while he fills you.

His thrusts are slow and sensual, truly taking his time with enjoying your body. His lips trail along your neck and collarbone while his free hand strokes and pinches at your sensitive skin, roaming your body. You melt into his touch, your body moving along with his, pleasure and relief washing over you. Copia groans into your neck as his hands reach your ass, squeezing it harshly while his thrusts grow more needy. You arch your back which allows him to drive himself even deeper into you, massaging along all of your sensitive spots. He slips one of his hands up your neck to the back of your head, fingers knotting in your hair and giving your head a sharp tug just as his hips piston into you at a reckless pace.

You scream out, your nails clawing across his back, legs trembling. His breath is hot on your ear, mixed with growls that rumble against you while he maintains this new, unrelenting tempo. Your walls start to spasm and contract around him, feeling your release building at an intense rate. Copia lifts his head, eyes half-lidded and lips smeared with black paint and you catch his mismatched gaze. He looks hungry, starving for you, a low snarl ripping from his lips before he kisses you again. You sigh against his lips, eyes squeezing shut as your body writhes beneath him. Copia is devouring you, his tongue tasting every inch of your mouth as he keeps a tight grip on your hair. 

“I’m -ah- close!” You choke into his mouth, your body trembling and your hold on him tightening. He groans in response, his lips hovering just above yours and he snaps his hips even harder into you. A whine leaves your lips, your legs trembling around him, your nails scratching along his back again. You start to come undone as your muscles tense and shockwaves grip your body. Copia fucks you through it, his hips stuttering as his own orgasm builds. It washes over you, a sob falling from your lips as your vision blurs and you cling to him, unable to think about anything other than how good he makes you feel. 

He comes inside you, filling you with his seed to assert his possession of you. You know deep down that’s why he does it but something about it turns you on. Copia hovers over you, panting lightly as he brushes the hair from your face. Your eyes meet and he offers a sweet smile before slipping off of you and pulling you into his embrace. Silence falls between the two of you. Your gaze flickers up to his face and finds his eyes closed, a content look on his face. Coherent thoughts start to creep into your brain and you find yourself staring off into space.

You feel that Terzo is gone, perhaps for good this time. When your eyes focus on Copia again, his eyes are open and he is looking at you almost lovingly. He leans in and presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I missed you too, amore.”

[multi-fandom-of-madness]

Darkness At The Heart Of My Love

Pairings: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia X GN!Reader

Type: Fluff that turns to angst w/ no comfort

Summary: Copia had just begun his reign as Papa, and was overworked. He needed to get away from the ministry and all of it. He found someone along the way. Someone who showed him love and happiness. It was perfect, until things changed, and then things descended into chaos.

Warnings: Mentions of character death, heartbreak, use of Y/N, google translated Italian

Word Count: 3,619

Notes: I’m debating on whether I want to make this into a short series. I already have the second part written, but I don’t know how I feel about the plot I previously had for the third part. I originally did this as a self insert, so if there are pronouns that don't correlate with a gender neutral reader, please let me know I will fix it asap. Also I'm sorry for the way the song lyrics copied over, you're just gonna have to deal with it (unfortunately).

Read on AO3

~

When the summer dies

Severing the ties

I'm with you always, always

Will you walk the line?

My path serpentine

Remember always

That love is all you need

Tell me who you wanna be

And I will set you free

There's a darkness at the heart of my love

That runs cold, runs deep

The darkness at the heart of my love

For you

It was a September afternoon. The leaves were just starting to change and the air had just started to relieve itself of its hellish temperatures. Summer finally started saying its goodbye.

The Clergy had been on Copia’s back recently due to his most recent accomplishment of being in talks to become the new Papa. He knew that they just wanted everything perfect, but he was struggling to believe he could live up to their practically impossible standards. It had been an impossibly long day, and he knew that he needed a break before he snapped, inflicting the wrath of Sister Imperator.

He drove around, just trying to clear his head until he found a café. A small little thing that looked very simple. He didn’t bother to check the name or the reviews before walking inside.

“Good afternoon! How can I help you today?” A chipper voice called out to him. His head snapped up from his phone as he set his eyes on them.

“Oh, hello. I-I’m good. How are you today?” He responded, his cheeks reddening slightly as he stumbled over his words.

“Well, it would be better if it were time to go home, but honestly I can’t complain too much,” the cashier responded. “What can I get for you today?”

Copia looked over the menu for just a moment. “Could I just get a black coffee and a blueberry scone?”

“Sure thing!” They smiled as they told him the total and grabbed his scone. They handed him the bag, and his hand lingered for a moment. He held his breath once he realized what he was doing, and grabbed the bag.

“Grazie,” he mumbled as he walked over to the other end of the counter to wait on his coffee. He watched as they poured the coffee, entranced by their every move.

“Here’s your coffee, sir,” they called as if he wasn’t jumping at the chance to talk to them again.

“Thank you,” he said, taking it and finding a seat. He was the only person actually sitting down, everyone else who came in got their orders and left. Copia knew that wouldn’t do for him. If he left, he didn’t know what would have happened.

He sat for a while, eating his scone and sipping his coffee. It was peaceful in the little café. Soft music played over the speakers, and the scent of freshly baked treats filled the air. It was nice.

“I’m heading out now! I’ll see you guys later!” He heard them call, apron off and bag in their hand. He watched them walk towards the door, and jumped up, not really knowing what he was doing.

“Excuse me, but I was just wondering if you-if you had any plans today. It’s been a long day, and you seem like you would be nice to talk to. Only, if you want to of course! I just thought you were gorgeous-I mean you seemed nice. Not that you aren’t gorgeous of course! I’m sorry, I don’t really talk to people outside of my work,” he rushed his words. He was slightly shaking, scared of what they would say.

“I don’t have any plans,” they smiled. “There’s a park right down the road, I could take you if you wanted.”

A look of relief washed over his tired face. “Really? I-well, I would like that actually.”

“My name is Y/N,” they said, holding out their arm.

He looped his arm in theirs, internally smacking himself for not asking their name earlier. “Copia.”

“Well, Copia, it’s nice to meet you.” They squeezed his arm lightly as they left the café. He smiled and looked at the ground.

The park wasn’t far at all, just about a ten minute walk. It was pretty, especially now that the leaves were changing their colors, shedding their summertime glow. There was a winding path that had trees scattered along with a few bushes surrounding them. The flowers on the ground were already wilting, but the scene was still beautiful nonetheless.

“So, Copia, what brought you to my little café?” They asked, their head tilting as they continued to walk arm in arm. Copia found it refreshing to not have his title used to address him for once. It seemed to be all he heard now.

“Well, work has been getting to me. Sis-My boss likes everything to be perfect. It’s just the way that the company is run. I’m beginning to take on a new…new mantle, and in order to properly take it on, I have to be perfect. It is a lot of stress for one man.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure it is stressful. May I ask where you work? I might be able to help, or at least provide some comfort with a little more context.”

He was hoping they wouldn’t ask that question, terrified of scaring them off. “Well, it’s a, uh, ministry of sorts.”

“Oh, so you’re going to become a priest. I guess that could be difficult. Not living a life of sin and being perfect for God and all of his followers.”

“Well, not exactly,” he admitted to them. “Are you religious?”

“I’m not entirely religious. I’m sure there’s a source of something out there, but if it is, I haven’t found it. I don’t judge religions though.”

“Well, that’s comforting,” he sighed. They gave him an odd look. “Our ministry isn’t exactly…Christian.”

“Now I'm a little bit confused.”

He laughed lightly at their response. “It’s a Satanic church. We preach about the word of Satan, and it’s a fun little gig we have going. We use a band to spread the word. Maybe you have heard of it?”

“That's interesting. What is your band called? I’m not sure whether I would have heard of it or not.”

“It’s called Ghost, we are pretty popular,” he teased. He wouldn’t be sure whether they’d heard of it or not, and was surprised by their reaction to saying he was with a satanic church.

“No, I don’t think I have heard of it actually.”

“Well, what kind of music do you like? I can help be a good judge of whether it would provide entertainment. It’s, eh, not really your basic music.”

“I’ll listen to almost anything, honestly. I’m always down for a good tune.”

Copia was taken aback by this a bit, a pleasantly shocked look on his face. “Well, it’s a rock band. A pretty good one if I do say so myself.”

“Maybe I’ll give it a listen later.” 

They continued to walk for a minute in silence before Copia piped up. “So, what do you do for fun?”

“I don’t really know. I like to read, watch TV, listen to music, and all the basic things.”

“What about video games? Any of that interest you?”

“Not really. I never got into gaming.”

“Interesting.”

“What about you, Copia?”

“I play a game or two here and there, but with the Ministry, I don’t get much time to myself.”

“Oh, I’m sorry that sucks. You can always call me up, if you want some company. I don’t really do much other than work. Here,” they said, sticking their phone out to him, “put your number in, and then you can text me whenever you get too stressed and need an outside source for comfort.” Copia took the phone, put his number in, and sent himself a message to make sure he didn’t put it in wrong, then they continued on their first walk of many.

And that is what they did for months.

They texted back and forth often, called, and even went on quite a few dates. Copia had yet another long day, and knew that he could trust the person he now proudly called his partner. He called, asking if he could spend the night at their apartment, and of course they said yes.

Copia made his way to their apartment, using his key to get inside. “Dolcezza? I’m here, amore.”

“I’m in the bathroom! Just got out of the shower!” They called, and he walked that way. He still had on his paints, which still shocked them sometimes, but they were beginning to grow used to it. “Well don’t you look handsome?” They teased, noting that he was in a hoodie and sweatpants.

“What? Oh, heh, yeah I guess I am a beauty. But you, amore mio, look stunning.” He grabbed their hips, pulling them into a kiss. They had on a plain black t-shirt and a pair of black shorts to match. Their hair was wet, and before the kiss they were drying it with a towel. As they kissed, they dropped the towel in favor of wrapping their arms around his shoulders while his arms crossed around their back to pull them in.

“Well, someone missed me,” they said as they pulled away, leaving their arms around him.

“I always miss you,” he said, pressing a lighter kiss to their forehead.

“You’re so sweet, Copia,” they hummed, staring up into his mismatched eyes, nothing else but adoration showing.

“I love you, tesoro.”

“I love you too. What brings you tonight? Anything special?”

“No, just a long day. Needed a way to relax,” he hummed, looking at them.

“What do you want to do?” They asked, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“What do you say I treat you to a dance?”

“What do yo-” before they finished, Copia removed them from where they leaned on the counter, dancing with them out to the living room. They laughed as he spun the both of them around, one hand holding theirs while the other rested on their waist, kissing them while he dipped them.

They were absolutely in love, and that was easy to see. They had only been to the Abbey a few times, but any sibling of sin, ghoul, or anyone who crossed their paths could see the love on their faces.

Soon, the rings on their left ring fingers became evidence enough. Copia, being the romantic he was, proposed to them about a year and a half later.

The air was warm, spring just beginning to settle in, as they walked through the park they first walked at. They walked there often now, finding comfort in the atmosphere. Little did Y/N know that Copia had a surprise waiting for them. It wasn’t uncommon for them to go on picnics, especially not if they were sunrise or sunset picnics.

They walked the winding trail, arms linked together, as Copia nervously led them to their destination. In the other hand, Y/N held a picnic basket that had all of their favorite things, as Copia’s hand nervously fiddled with the small box containing the second most precious gem. The first being his beloved.

The sky was a gorgeous pale blue, the clouds outlined with pink and orange as the sun began to sink past the horizon. Their normal picnic spot had been set up to look very different.

Copia had to pull a few strings, but the trees were decorated with lights, and all of their favorite flowers formed to make a walkway that led to a small platform that was covered in more flowers.

He walked them towards the destination while one sibling of sin hid in the bushes to capture it on video and get the most perfect photos.

Y/N was in absolute awe. It looked like something out of a movie. “Is that for me, Copia?” They asked innocently, unsure of whether this was just for them or someone else.

“Yes, carissima. This is all for you.” He walked up to the platform, letting them take the first step. He steps up next, bending down on one knee. “I knew from the moment I laid my eyes on you that I wanted to be the one you loved. I have cherished every moment, every laugh, even the fights, all because I got to spend that time with you. You are the love and the light of my life. I love you beyond words, Y/N. So please, will you marry me?”

Crying, Y/N lowers themself to be level with him. “Yes,” they cry, holding his face in their hands and kissing him. “A thousand times, yes.”

Copia’s face lights up as he takes their left hand off his face, slipping the ring on, then pulling them into the closest hug they will ever feel in their lives.

Will you spill the wine

To summon the divine?

I'm with you always, always

Now paint a pair of eyes

And let's watch as it dries

Remember always, that love is all you need

Tell me who you wanna be

And I will set you free

There's a darkness at the heart of my love

That runs cold, runs deep

The darkness at the heart of my love

So bold, so sweet

The big day was here. The day where Y/N and Copia would pledge their love in front of everyone.

Marrying a Papa was a big deal. Everyone in the Clergy would gather to watch the occasion. The reception, however, was for close friends and family members only.

“Are you ready?” A voice called from behind Y/N . It was their father. He wasn’t entirely on board with the concept of marrying a satanic pope, but once he realized just how wonderful Copia made them feel, he accepted the relationship, and welcomed Copia with open arms.

“I believe so,” they said, using one hand to hold the bouquet of flowers, the other smoothing down their outfit.

“Then I believe it’s time,” he said, taking their arm in his as the doors opened. They looked up to where Copia was standing in awe. He had on a gorgeous suit and his paints were on. Tradition is that they wear full regalia, but he didn’t want to remember this moment as Papa, just as Copia. He finally was able to compromise with just using his paints, so he took what he could get.

They could tell that there were tears in his eyes. He was always the sentimental type. They smiled as tears welled in their eyes as well.

As they reached the altar, their father smiled at them and kissed their cheek before sitting down. Copia reached a hand out to them as they walked up the stairs, handing a bridesmaid the bouquet of flowers.

“Hi, you look gorgeous,” he whispered excitedly.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” they said, giving him a wink. The officiant began speaking, signaling the ceremony had begun. There was a bottle of wine, two chalices, and their rings on a small table next to the officiant.

A little while into the wedding, both of them poured wine into the other’s chalice, crossing their arms as they sip. It wasn’t the most necessary part of the ceremony, but it was something that they decided to do. A symbol of their joining together.

They slipped their rings on after, officially combined as one.

They walked back down the aisle, arm in arm, smiling like children, so happy that they found their perfect match. Neither of them wanted to get their outfits messed up, so as their chosen guests filed into the reception room, they changed into simpler, yet still formal, outfits.

“I am so happy that I have you now,” Copia said, coming behind Y/N to wrap them in a hug and leaned his head on their shoulders.

“Until death do us part,” Y/N responded in a joking tone.

“Not even death could keep us from each other,” he said, kissing their neck. Y/N turned around, wrapping their arms around his shoulders, kissing him.

“I would never let that happen,” they smiled.

There's a darkness at the heart of my love

That runs cold, runs deep

The darkness at the heart of my love

For you

“Are you excited? It’s your last concert of this tour. I’m so proud of you,” Y/N said, kissing his cheek as they helped fix his robes.

“It has been a blast. I’m sad to see it come to an end, but that just means we can start new journeys now,” he smiled.

“You’re going to do amazing.” They both walked to the side of the stage, waiting for the cue that they were good to go. “Do you hear that? Copia, they love you.” A smile rested on their face, their head leaning on their husband's shoulder.

“No one could love me the way you do, dolcezza. They may love me, and I may entice them, but my eyes are only for you. I am only for you. I will be with you always,” he said, listening to the crowd’s chanting.

“It’s time. I’ll see you after the show, my love.”

“I love you,” Copia said, kissing them lovingly before walking on stage, the crowd screaming their heads off.

Y/N made their way to their designated spot above the crowd. There was always one section where they would stand and watch, no one else to bother them. The crowd was extremely reactive tonight, everyone having the best time. Even the ghouls looked to be having the greatest night of their lives. 

They smiled, singing along to every song. Occasionally, Copia would look up to where they stood, and they waved each time.

He bounced around the stage, everyone enchanted by his every move, but now the concert was coming to an end. He looked so content and happy performing that neither of them wanted this to end.

“Now this song is very special to me. I used to sing this song, worried about the pain another would cause me, or a pain that I would cause another if I let anyone near me, close to my heart. I said no! No relationships!” He paused, looking around the crowd then looking up to them. “Now, I know that I was wrong. I wish I could have figured this out sooner, but when I stepped into that little coffee shop, I’m glad it took all the time that it did. For the past few years, my love, my beautiful, my angel, my partner has been by my side. So now, I sing a new song of love. Love for the one I am so glad to be able to call my partner. For my Y/N.” He pointed at them as the crowd cheered at the mention of their name, causing them to grin and blush. "This is Darkness At The Heart of My Love!” The crowd cheered some more as the opening notes played.

He sang beautifully. His voice was perfect, and his movements bewitching. Everything about this performance proved Copia was a masterpiece. Y/N leaned onto the railing, singing and watching as their lover made his way through the song.

“Remember always that love is all you need. Tell me who you wanna be, and I will set you free,” he sang as the song drew near its end, looking up to Y/N as he did.

There's a darkness at the heart of my love

That runs cold, runs deep

The darkness at the heart of my love

So bold, so sweet

There's a darkness at the heart of my love (my love)

That runs cold (runs cold), runs deep (runs deep)

The darkness at the heart of my love (my love)

So bold (so bold), so sweet (so sweet)

Y/N didn’t notice the security coming behind them, but they recognized similar strange figures standing on either side of the stage, stalking towards Copia.

Panic flooded them as they turned to run to try and save him, though it was a waste of effort. The security guards behind them grabbed them, forcing them to watch the events unfold.

“And all this time you knew that I would put you through the darkness at the heart of my love for you!” Copia sang, unaware of the men behind him while Y/N struggled.

When the summer dies

Severing the ties

I'm with you always, always

The men came behind Copia, grabbing his arms and legs, pulling him away from the microphone. A look of fear filled his face.

Paint a pair of eyes

Let's watch as it dries

I'm with you always, always

“No!” They screamed out, watching him get dragged off stage, struggling in the same way they were. “Copia! Please! No!” People in the few rows below them turned, watching the tears streaming down their face as they continued to scream.

Sister Imperator walked out on stage, beginning to say some words, but Y/N couldn’t make it out. The guards let them go, and they crumpled to the ground, shaking and sobbing, feeling utterly broken. “No,” they cried quieter. The crowd was painfully silent as they watched Sister. “This can’t be happening. No. Please.” A few siblings of sin walked toward them, lifting them off the ground, walking them back to a car.

They took them back to the ministry, and they cried the whole way there. They brought them to bed, changing their clothes and making them comfortable. They listened to their cries, sad looks on their faces.

They said nothing now, laying in the bed them and Copia would never share again. They held his pillow close, crying into it.

He was gone, and they wouldn’t get him back.

[silverofthunder]

☆ a thought of forever ☆

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader

summary: This wasn’t just offering a blood and satisfying the hunger, this was more. This was a test for both of you and also a way to build your trust, to renew it.

content: 2.8k words, mystery (kind of), drama, fantasy, romance, angst, hurt/comfort, a bit of humor

♡♡ part 1 ♡♡ part 2 ♡♡ part 3 ♡♡ part 4 ♡♡ part 5 ♡♡ part 6 ♡♡

This part was kind of painful but also so much fun to write. Getting closer to the end... Slowly but surely. There's a lot in this, I think. Probably the most emotional one in this series. Hope you enjoy!

It had been almost a month since you had last seen Copia. During that time you had done a lot of thinking – maybe too much as you were kind of exhausted but now you at least knew that you were ready to finally face Copia. Battle of heart and mind hadn’t been easy to settle but in the end there was no way that you could stay away from him anymore. You missed him, your moments, the way he made you feel… Everything.

The whole biting incident had worked as a certain kind of awakening. Partly, you could blame yourself for that since you had been teasing Copia quite much, asking for the bite. It had been only a matter of time when your little game would backfire. But even though there was now a little crack on your trust, it still didn’t change your feelings.

Of course you had gone down the thought route that was wondering if it all had been just some kind of game. That you had been put under some spell. Vampires had powers they could use to manipulate people so it would have made sense. But could they have manipulated your feelings? No, that didn’t seem possible. It would be crazy. It didn’t fit Copia. He wasn’t like that, nor his brothers. For what you knew, they were pretty careful of using their powers.

But despite everything, the bite, the shock after – nothing had really changed. It was bound to happen at some point. Obviously, it had been a wrong moment but you couldn’t turn back the time. The only thing you could do now was to go see Copia and try to make things right.

A sound of message received tore you from your thoughts and you saw Terzo’s name on screen. You opened the message, your heartbeat a little faster than usual.

Everything’s set. You can come at any time.

You typed Terzo a reply and locked the phone, slipping it to your pocket and picking up your keys. The swirl of emotions was making your stomach feeling funny but you had to do this now. You took a deep breath before walking out the door, now for the first time in almost a month choosing the route that lead you straight to Hunter’s Moon.

Copia’s brothers were waiting for you and you got surprisingly warm welcome, Terzo and Primo hugging you and Secondo giving you a slightly awkward pat on the shoulder. You were standing at the end of the short corridoor that lead to their private rooms.

”How’s he?” you asked, wanting to know what would wait for you when you finally stepped into Copia’s room. The brothers shared a look before Primo answered.

”He’s quite weak due to not feeding properly.”

That much you had already figured out. It wasn’t like you expected Copia to be a threat to you. He most likely would keep his distance.

”He’s been miserable,” Terzo said, the concern settled deep into his gaze. ”Barely has left the room.”

”He hates that he lost control,” Secondo stated, a sliver of warmth in his eyes. ”But he also misses you.”

”I miss him, too,” you admitted, the words just coming out before you even realized. Primo and Terzo chuckled and even on Secondo’s lips there was a hint of smile visible.

”You two are good together, for one another, and we would like to see you finding the common ground again,” Primo said, giving you a hopeful smile. ”Human-vampire relationships are hard, we all know that, but you made it seem so easy, effortless.”

You didn’t know what to say to that but Primo’s words warmed your heart, anyway, so you smiled at him. And you wanted that, too, to find the common ground with Copia again.

”I guess I should just go in, then?” You shifted, glancing at Copia’s room door.

”If you’re ready,” Terzo said. ”We’ll wait here, just in case…”

You nodded, knowing what he was referencing to.

”I think we’ll be alright,” you said, and with one last look at the brothers you turned and started to head to Copia’s door.

You had to stop before it to take a deep breath and release the air slowly. It didn’t really help your racing heart and the feeling in your stomach but you couldn’t back away now. So with a slightly shaking hand you took a hold of the handle and pushed it down, pushing the door open and stepping in.

The room was quite messy, you noticed, as you let your gaze take it in, the door behind you closing. When your eyes finally settled on Copia who has sitting on the bed, your heart sunk in your chest. He didn’t look at you, just stared at the floor eyes wide, hands on his lap, fingers fumbling with the sleeves of his shirt. Weariness was marring his paintless face, his shoulders hunched, and you had to clench your hands into fists to prevent yourself from running straight to him and wrapping him in a hug. It was like there was only a shadow left of him. Hesitantly, you took a few steps closer to him and then his eyes shot up, meeting yours and your world seemed to stop for a moment.

Utter devastation was what you saw in them. You couldn’t describe it any other way. Even that seemed to be an understatement. Tears started to burn in your eyes and it was like someone was trying to rip your heart out of your chest.

”Copia…” you whispered, taking another step closer to him. Copia didn’t move, so you took it as an permission to approach him more, until you were right before him. The sight of him was even more heartbreaking from so close and you couldn’t prevent the tears from falling. You reached out your right hand and Copia flinched slightly when you placed it on his thigh, close to his knee. The look in his eyes was full of confusion and hurt.

It was hard to keep composure as you wanted nothing more than to take his pain away. But you had to be strong and take it slow, give Copia time.

”I’m so sorry,” Copia said, quietly, his voice sounding rough like hadn’t used it much. You shook your head, tears wetting your cheeks.

”It was my fault, too. I basically kept asking for that,” you said, gently squeezing Copia’s leg.

”No,” Copia stated, the look in his eyes getting a sharped edge. ”I hadn’t fed properly before our meeting because I didn’t want to be late. My mistake.”

So that’s why he had looked a bit tired back then. You hadn’t just imagined it, Copia had actually been tired and in need of blood. And then you had asked him to play hunt you…

Fuck.

”Why didn’t you say anything?”

Copia opened his mouth but no words came out and then he shook his head again. You squeezed your eyes shut, wiping the tears away with your free hand and taking a moment to breathe. Soon you felt the lightest of pressure under your chin and you opened your eyes, another set of tears breaking free as you looked at Copia.

”It was bound to happen at some point,” you finally stated. ”I had already offered you my blood before so you basically had my permission. A little warning beforehand would have been good, though.”

The confusion in Copia’s eyes deepened.

”You don’t hate me?”

”Hate you? No, I could never,” you said, now standing up and sitting beside Copia, taking both of his hands in yours. ”I know what and who you are. A dangerous predator, yes, but underneath there is so much more, too. A caring, kind, funny, creative person. Someone who has yearned for love for a very long time.”

Copia looked like he wanted to believe you, your words, his eyes shiny in a different way, and you guessed that if he was a human, he might be crying now.

”You’re too good for me,” Copia spoke, his voice now barely louder than a whisper. You had heard those words a few times before but there really wasn’t any truth in them.

”No, we’re both good for each other. Even your brothers believe so and I think they’re right. This – we – just works. In some weird, unexplainable way, we work. We just have been playing with fire and got too carried away.”

You didn’t know where all these words came but you had to let them pour out. It felt good to get it all out, the knot within you opening up. The look in Copia’s eyes softened, a small smile passing his lips and you let out a long sigh, blinking away the tears.

”You have to stop beating yourself up,” you said, lifting your hand up to cup his cheek. Copia’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he inhaled and when he opened them again, the red color of the other was darker and his lips parted, quivering. A clear sign of that he needed to feed soon. Something turned in your stomach, not unpleasantly, and in the next moment you pressed your wrist against his mouth, his eyes widening, other hand gribbing your hand tighter.

”You need it,” you whispered and Copia shook his head, clearly trying so hard to fight against the urge. ”Please.”

You could feel Copia opening his mouth more, and when you nodded, he gave in to his hunger and pierced your skin with his fangs. The pain hit soon, burning, and you groaned through gritted teeth, new tears forming into your eyes. It really hurt, your whole body seeming to be on fire in the worst way possible, but you focused on Copia’s gaze, the way he held the eye-contact as he started sucking.

When the pain subsided, you hummed, relaxing and that seemed to please Copia as he looked at you with a mix of adoration and hunger. You smiled at him and he got bolder, sucking your blood eagerly, and something at the sight made your insides tingle, mind turning a little hazier. A familiar sensation but there still was something new to it. This wasn’t just offering a blood and satisfying the hunger, this was more. This was a test for both of you and also a way to build your trust, to renew it.

In a way, it felt delicate. You had to find the perfect balance. The line between enough and too much would be thin but you had to trust that the right timing would be found. You waited and waited, patiently, knowing that the clock was ticking.

And in the next blink of an eye, Copia pulled away, blood smeared over hips lips and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding. Copia licked the blood from his lips, and conveyed his gratitude through his intense gaze. All you could do was give him a little nod and smile, the silence between you feeling so comfortable that breaking it didn’t feel right.

You had no idea how long you two just stared at each other but at some point Copia cupped your face, moving closer to you and resting his forehead against yours. Your gaze fell to your wrist, the bite marks still leaking a bit and you had to resist the urge to run your fingers over them. It was oddly satisfying this time, to see those marks on your skin, waves of warmth coursing through your body. It might have been the venom or something else, you weren’t certain but you liked it anyway.

”Will you forgive me?” Copia finally broke the silence, his voice sounding now stronger, healthier. You pulled a little back, searching for his gaze.

”Of course,” you said, moving your other hand up and poking Copia’s chest with you finger. ”But you have to promise me one thing...”

”Anything, my love.”

Copia’s words made your brain short circuit and you lost the words you were supposed to say. Did he just…?

”Cazzo, I didn’t… It just slipped out,” Copia stuttered, his eyes wide as he pulled away. You body reacted fast and you grabbed a good fistful of his shirt, pulling him back close to you. The air around you felt different now, turning everything from its track. You both knew what was between you – it would be pointless to deny it anymore – but you hadn’t exactly used words to describe the nature of your relationship.

”Do you mean…” you started, your heart beating faster in you chest, ”that you are…?”

”In love with you?” Copia offered and you nodded. ”Sí, I am. Irrevocably, I’m afraid.”

You swallowed, your heart now swelling ten times bigger and then you let go of Copia’s shirt and smashed your fist against his chest. The chuckle that left from Copia was like a music to your ears and you couldn’t help but start laughing. Every single feeling just got out through that laugh, your shoulders shaking and your stomach hurting the longer it went on.

Copia looked at you with a mix of amusement and curiousity and you just leaned against him, slumping against his chest wholly, happy tears gathering in your eyes as your laughter still echoed in the room. Copia’s arms enveloped you in a hug, his jaw resting on top your head, and you could swear that right in that moment you were happier than you had ever been before. Maybe it was strange considering the original reason behind of meeting Copia but you didn’t care.

It was never supposed to get that complicated and maybe it hadn’t been but you had just made it one. Communication was the key to everything and somehow you had failed a bit on that part. But you could always do better and from now on you certainly would do better. As your laughter eventually died and you were finally able to even out your breathing, you moved your head so that you could bury your face into the crook of Copia’s neck.

”I might be in love with you, too,” you mumbled against his shirt and bare skin. Copia hummed, hugging you tighter.

”I know.”

”Stupid vampire mojo,” you cursed in a playful way, placing a light kiss on Copia’s neck. The sound that left from Copia was a mix of laughter and inhale and when he spoke, you knew he was grinning even though you didn’t see his face.

”It would be nice to blame that but I’m afraid it’s not the case here.”

”This is crazy.”

”That’s what I’ve been telling you for whole this time.”

With a long sigh, you broke free from Copia’s embrace so you could look at him. His smile was warm, the look in his eyes like melted gold.

”But I like crazy. No, I love crazy,” you grinned.

”Good,” Copia stated, placing his hand under your chin and leaning then in to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. You relaxed into it immediately, tasting the trace of your blood on his lips, and soon you felt the fangs gently nibbling at your bottom lip and you smiled into the kiss.

”So, you have to promise me one thing…” you spoke inbetween, your lips brushing against Copia’s lip all the time. ”Please, feed when you need to. No matter what the situation is, okay?”

”I promise,” Copia said, gently squeezing your chin and sealing his words with another, this time more thorough, kiss. It was one of those kisses that made your knees buckle and you were glad, you were already sitting. However, your moment was interrupted by some vague sounds coming from behind the door made and you reluctanctly parted. Then there was a knock on the door, Terzo’s voice reaching your ears.

”Are you still alive there?”

You looked at Copia, both grinning and shaking your heads. It obviously wasn’t a serious question but it offered a perfect chance to continue the joke.

”Barely,” you said a bit louder and Copia chuckled lightly. You could vividly imagine Terzo and Primo’s amusement while Secondo would certainly look unimpressed.

”Copia?” Terzo called his brother.

”We’re okay,” Copia replied, certain seriousness replacing the mirth in his eyes as he looked at you. He was right, you were okay. Or you would be okay in the end, you were sure of that. But there were still things you needed to learn on your common path. Copia was the moon to your sun and you had to learn how to meet in the middle, find the shadow that could keep you balanced. In the end, if the situation would so require, you were ready to make some sacrifices.

A thought of forever had never been more tempting as it was now.

taglist: @nijiru

[anamelessfool]

[Instrumental]

Copia x Cardinal Marian, Copia & Terzo Domestic Fluff sponsored by @comp-lady's Domestic December

Link to Challenge Here

Words: 1426 AO3 Link Here

Tags: Duet, Singing, Being Silly, Holiday Doldrums

Dedicated to @delullu and @thew0man <3

Ficlet Below the Cut!

After the Solstice Holidays and before the New Year, it was rough around the Ministry compound. Not much to do except nurse a hangover and wait for the calendar to refresh you, to wash away the old year. Next year will be different. But right now, I got to lie the fuck down.

Papa Emeritus III would make it everyone's problem and start wandering the halls looking for some last minute pick-me-up from a sibling who was already either exhausted with him or disgusted by him thanks in part to his traditionally ridiculous behavior at the Solstice party. Sister would have nothing to do with him, which of course meant he would resort to the only two people whose job description required mandatory interaction: Sister's Personal Assistant Marian and his protegee Papa Elect Copia.

Which is why during this time Marian and Copia preferred to hunker down somewhere. And when Marian would get so sick of puzzles or hearing Copia crow about The Life and Times of JP Morgan she would demand a field trip.

Luckily at this time of year Copia’s beige LaSabre would have the snow chains on and they could go into town without careening off of a snowy cliff on the way there.

And in the nearest town there was a bar that, for a discreet twenty dollar bill it would be Karaoke Night any night Marian wanted.

“Here we stand…Worlds apart, hearts broken in two! Two! Twooo….” Marian scream-sang the words as they lit up across the video screen. From his place at a nearby table, Copia sighed wistfully. She was a terrible singer, he had to admit. Not a musical bone in her body. But her heart was into it. Always, fully.

Also watching her plush hips sway in time to the music was a bonus.

“Some day, love will find you! Break those chains that bind you! You know, I still love you—” Marian held out her hand to him, flashing a winning smile. Copia’s heart soared. “Even when we go our separate ways!”

A man wandered up to the stage and threw a dollar into the empty plastic pitcher for her. She blew him a kiss. Copia felt a little tinge of jealously bubble up in his throat but it was followed by another thought, this one much more thrilling. Doesn’t matter, she’s coming home with me….

“Closer to the heart! Closer to the HEAAAAAART! YEA-YUH!” And Marian jumped off the small stage, drink in hand, to wander back to Copia’s table and his nest of empty glasses with lemon slices.

“The song’s over?” Copia asked. Watching her sidle over to him, a smirk across her face put him in a certain way. He pretended for a moment she had eyed him from across the bar, a mysterious temptress. He a debonair scoundrel. His heart fluttered.

Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine….

“No there's like a five minute instrumental section, get with the program,” she said. “Here, drink this.”

Copia did what he always did—immediately what was told. He took a sip from the tiny straw. His whole mouth was awash with acrid flames as the liquid scraped down his throat. He nearly arched and hissed like a cat. “W-what was in that?!”

“Long Island Ice Tea—I thought you'd like it. The most alcohol for the least amount of money.” Marian cackled. “Enough with that unsweetened shit. You're up next.”

Copia clutched one of his empty glasses of unsweetened shit. “No thank you. I enjoy just watching you.”

“Why not?” Marian scanned the room. There were a half dozen people besides them on this impromptu Tuesday night karaoke.

“I just….prefer…”

“There's like five other people here.” She gestured towards the bar. “Four now, because I think that guy over there is asleep.”

Copia idly tapped the glass, blinking.

“You know you're going to perform in front of thousands of people soon, yeah?”

“That's different. So many, and they're ah…they're a wall at that scale, really.”

The little [INSTRUMENTAL] blocks started filling across the screen. She’d have to start singing again soon. Marian threw him a determined look. A hungry look. Her eyebrows raised and her mouth quirked. “Drink the rest of that. I'll get you up here.”

Marian turned back to the stage and Copia watched her ass in her tight jeans cross the floor. Imagined his hands across the nipped in part of her waist. He knocked back the rest of the burning concoction and dealt with the pain.

Marian’s solo ended and someone in the darkness actually clapped. She did an ironic curtsy and the next song title appeared across the screen.

Copia bit his lip and gripped the empty glass.

He heard the song. The fake organ refrain. The plinks and chirps of the most perfect arrangement of notes he'd ever heard since Bach felt inclined to start writing.

It was his ringtone for years, when custom ring tones were a thing.

Are they still a thing?

The intro ended, and the lyrics flashed across the screen, unsung. The midi karaoke track blared without any singer. Without anyone to help push the song along and give it life.

Marian stood there, staring into his eyes. Her smirk transformed into a wild, toothy grin.

How dare she.

How dare she let this song run down.

This perfect song.

Copia blinked again, this time keenly aware of how heavy his eyelids had become. He got up and his vision swam a little.

Marian was right. That was a lot of alcohol for a sensible price. And maybe chugging it wasn't the best idea Copia ever had.

The eight inch step up onto the little stage brought with it a surge of emotion. He was already singing the song in his head, trying to keep time. He wanted his intro to be completely on time.

Copia touched her arm with one hand, then grabbed under her chin. Marian laughed, dropping the mic in his other hand. She winked.

The horrible rinky-dink light set up was still unnaturally bright and he shut his eyes tight, leaning into the mic. He had to recover. He owed it to the song. “Don't go wasting your emotion! Lay all your love on me!”

Marian pulled another mic from the plastic pitcher nearby and joined in, trying to mimic the dulcet tones of Agnetha Fältskog the best a mere mortal could. “It was like shooting a sitting duck! A little small talk, a smile, and baby I was stuck!”

Copia made a little pleased grunt, a nod, then swept his arms out theatrically, continuing, “I still don't know what you've done with me! A grown-up woman should never fall so easily…”

Something pressed play in Copia's heart. The program ran without any doubt, dismay—there was definitely something beyond the buzz of a drink mixed with a heavy hand. For some reason he wanted nothing more than to give the performance of a lifetime. He put a foot up on the stool, leaning into the bridge. “I feel a kind of fear when I don't have you near… Unsatisfied, I skip my pride, I beg you, dear!”

Copia glanced over to Marian. She was red faced and giggling, the mic forgotten in her arms. He threw her his own smirk, pointing at her with an accusing finger. “Don't go wasting your emotion! Lay all your love on me! Don't go sharing your devotion…”

Marian stepped forward into him, and his hands automatically wrapped around her. Her fingers brushed the back of his neck and her lips connected with his. He tasted something tropical, warming him on this dreary winter December evening. The empty song continued, abandoned, but her kiss was consolation enough.

Marian couldn't resist a little bite as she pulled away. “Told you,” she said.

“Eh er-well..I was going to pick that one next anyway,” Copia huffed. He shifted his weight and through the bright lights he saw a curious gleam of metal in the far corner. A figure had slipped into the bar and settled behind a table, a large square-shouldered rectangle. With horns. With a metal mask.

“Omega?” Marian stammered. “What—”

There was a theatrically wicked laugh from behind them. Terzo was standing by the stage, leafing through the giant binder of songs and typing in numbers.

“You think you could keep this place a secret forever, fratellino,” Terzo sneered. The Infernal Eye gleamed in its socket. “We’re singing Super Trooper next.”

Bonus Organ Cover Of the Greatest Song Since Bach Decided to Dabble (Copia's words)