#da rulah gifs

[da-rulah]

Undressing...

Rite Here Rite Now (2024)

[da-rulah]

This is so beautiful and sweet. Reading this was genuinely like a big warm hug from papa.

The Sadness

A little hurt/comfort with Papa Emeritus IV to cheer me up, and hopefully you as well if you need it!

Mature ~ 1,500 words ~ ao3

Papa Copia x Sister of Sin

A frantic little knock on Papa Copia’s door and then I stood there for a moment, alone in cold bare feet, only to turn to flee within the space of another tightened breath. His sudden words of puzzled greeting caught me only a few steps down the hall and I came right back, as sure as if he’d taken me by the hand.

“I’m sorry, Papa.” I couldn’t explain, but I felt almost hysterical inside.

“Mia cara, what’s the matter?” Papa stood there, just outside his doorframe, frowning down at my feet and clad all cozy in his shabby faded smoking robe, a calming dusty blue; old shredded slippers just barely hanging on to their existence on his own feet. His lined face bare and shiny with moisturizer, salt and pepper hair combed back and still a bit damp. Reading glasses perched low on his nose, with a paperback in his hand. I’d caught him all ready for bed. Well, of course I had, it was fairly late, wasn’t it?

I shouldn’t even be here.

“Nothing, Papa. Goodnight.”

I turned to go for real this time, but then I felt his touch, tentative on my shoulder, and I stopped. Copia turned me right around again to face him.

“Come in, dolcezza.”

I only looked down at his slippers, but I allowed him to lead me inside. Papa shut the door, tossing his book upon a side table there, and at that sound I could feel something breaking inside me; my brain plummeting all the way down to my feet as he turned back to me. I was crying.

“Dolcezza! What has happened? Amore mio…”

The floodgates had opened, and caustic tears were pouring down my face, spurred on by choking sobs I tried in vain to hold back. Copia had been holding me before him by the shoulders, quizzically trying to meet my eyes, but now he pulled me towards him and enveloped me into a tight hug, his hand firm and warm on the back of my head. “What is wrong, tesoro mio bello?” his whispered voice begged of me.

Sniffing in his scent, I rolled my face along his chest, just crying, and crying, and feeling incapable of an answer, too unworthy to even hug him back. I felt the most worthless I had ever felt in a good long while. Copia let me cry.

But I felt that I should at least try to clarify this insanity, if I even could. “Nothing’s wrong, Papa!” I nearly wailed against him, “I just feel so sad.” Another devolution into tears. “So incredibly, utterly, sad. And for literally no reason!”

“Aaahh… eh?” Copia was gently rubbing my back, and he began to sway me back and forth a little where we stood, “Oh, ah… okay.”

The slight tone of bewilderment in his voice made me laugh only a little, right in the midst of all of my senseless crying. With effort, I summoned some steady breaths to explain. “I think my goddamned period is coming.”

I could feel Papa’s body lighten with the clarification. “Aaah, si, dolcezza!” He was brushing my hair off my tear-wet cheeks, and stooped down a little to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. “The fucking hormones, yes?”

I nodded against him with an anguished smile. “The fucking hormones.”

My voice was cracking in my swollen throat, and my wet eyes burned. It felt as though my lungs were being squeezed within my chest, and fresh sobs soon spilled out of me anew. “Mia cara, mia cara, let me get you something,” he was saying, leading me over to sit down in one of his antique chairs, right beside the fire. A freezing dread sat solid and heavy within me, filling me up with a meaningless despair I simply couldn’t shake off, though I knew, I knew it absolutely wasn’t rational.

Papa took his glasses off and moved away to rummage in a far corner, murmuring something about tea and chocolate.

“Can I… can I just stay here for a little while, Papa?” Standing up, I undid my habit and let it slip down off my shoulders to the floor, shivering in despair even in front of the warming fire. “I don’t think I’m bleeding yet… we can still… if you want to…” I could feel my face suddenly breaking apart in anguish, and I clapped my hands up to cover it quickly, just sobbing into my hands as I stood there naked in the firelight, as if I would never, could never, ever ever stop.

Almost immediately, I felt something soft and warm placed around my shoulders, and Copia was holding me again, having wrapped me right up in his very own robe.

“Shhh… shhh… let’s save that for another time, amore mio… amore mio… let it out, eh?”

Whispered endearments were being poured upon me from his lips into my hair, as I cried into his silk pyjamas, the scent of his evening shower still wafting off his skin underneath. I felt so incredibly useless, and held so gently in Papa’s care I simply told him so, after I could catch a solid breath. I tried to convey how stupidly wretched my treacherous brain was making me feel, and his head nodded above me.

“It’s idiotic, Papa!” I cried.

“That may be, dolcezza mia,” he agreed, “but there’s no harm in feeling it through, talking it out, eh?”

“Yes, Papa,” I sniffed, nodding myself now.

We swayed together there again, warm by the fire as I listened to it crackle beside us. When I felt my swirling thoughts begin to settle, I let myself name each one.

“I’m not pretty,” I began, and he openly scoffed.

“Not true in the slightest, bellissima,” he stated, squeezing me against him tighter.

“I have horrible handwriting, Papa,” I continued, “when I wrote in Sister’s birthday card last week it looked positively shameful…”

“Imperator hates her birthdays, bella,” Papa cut me off with a chuckle, “She throws her cards away, every single year. I’ve seen it.”

I would have chuckled too, but my throat was stiffening up with the saddest thought of all. “My father never loved me.” My words fell out so hopeless.

“Oh, bella…” Letting me go to cradle my face within his hands, Copia tilted me up to look at him. “My father never loved me either!” He said it with a tragic levity, shrugging his shoulders like we shared something funny between us.

It was funny, and I finally laughed.

Papa bundled me up into his arms again as I laughed as if the act were unfamiliar to me. I laughed and chuckled until I almost began crying once more.

“Come, come, dolcezza mia… veni,” he was saying, “Come to bed with me now.”

He was leading me slowly across the room as he spoke, and I felt so completely exhausted now I would have settled wherever he had put me. “I have some snacks, eh? And I can even make some tea with what I have in here, bella. I, ah, thought I might watch a movie tonight… will you join me?”

“Yes, Papa,” I choked out, so grateful for him, “that sounds completely lovely…”

“Good, mia cara, si…” Copia was rubbing my shoulders as we came to his grand four poster, “now crawl on in… get!” He patted my butt playfully.

Papa’s bed was firm, the sheets already thrown back from when he must have settled down into it earlier. Getting in, I lay back on some soft pillows, pulling the thick blankets up over my shoulder to sink right into the comfort of his refuge. I was still wearing his robe. Everything smelt as he did, warm and aromatic. Just laying there, I watched him putter around a bit in his room, stoking up the fire and checking his kettle in the other corner.

Eventually, Copia went around to the other side of his bed, kicking his slippers off and getting in beside me with a satisfied grunt. To have him so near, in the flesh, was better than anything else in this moment, and I snuggled up against him with a sigh when he put his arm around me, tugging me even closer.

“Have the cramps come yet?” he asked me.

“Not yet, Papa.”

“The bathroom’s got everything you might need later, cara,” he told me, fishing his hand about the blankets for the remote. The little television perched on a trolly at the end of the bed was paused, and I recognized the intro of a Dracula movie, one of Papa’s favourites. “Is this alright, amore mio?”

“It’s just perfect, Papa,” I said, “perfect considering all the blood that’s coming…”

Copia chuckled, and kissed my forehead again, and I shut my eyes, my head on his shoulder, listening contentedly to the doomed piano and foreboding strings of Kilar’s Dracula - the beginning start to fill the room. “The year… 1462…”

I wasn’t sure if I could even stay awake right to the end, but I knew it didn’t matter. Papa had me safe and loved beside him, exactly where I needed to be. The merest fluttering of hope began to awaken deep inside me, underneath all of the unwarranted despair and darkness. I began to believe that perhaps tomorrow might be better, and that I wouldn’t feel so sunken in this awful manner for too long. Papa understood. And I had all the time that I needed to purge this imbalanced sadness before the new and clear morning.

All would be well once again.

[ghuleh-recs]

yeah. he fucks.

(for @da-rulah)

[copias-juicebox]

Happy belated birthday @da-rulah!!

May you bless us with your wonderful works until the end of time 🥰🎂😤

[portaltothevoid]

you're losing me part iii -- copia x reader

A/N: alright, this has officially turned into a mini-series (yes there'll be at least a part four!). dedicating this to @ivycasket @fishwithtitz @da-rulah and @water-ghoulette for your kind words and excitement over this little story of mine. it encouraged me to just keep writing, so please enjoy part iii!

songs: you're losing me and would've, could've, should've

word count: 2.8k

warnings: another breakdown, gossip, bullying if you squint?, a fleeting moment of spice

The days after you left Papa Emeritus III made you feel as if you walked through a forest of thorns then waded into the ocean. You couldn’t hide away and wait to be forgotten. There was no forgetting you. You were the one who had gotten the illustrious Terzo to commit to one person, something that shocked the whole Ministry given his reputation. It was only a matter of time before the nature of your separation became murmurs of “told you so” and “should’ve seen that coming.”

Your relationship had advanced your sisterly duties, which you were still expected to fulfill. Burying your eyes into texts of Latin and Italian served to be a good enough distraction for the most part. Your job allowed you to be secluded. The few who you did interact with were respectful enough, but no one could take their eyes off the elephant in the room. When they did, their looks of pity sparked scorned chagrin. 

The first week after was the hardest. Truthfully, you could have been a contender for an Oscar with how you presented yourself. By the middle of the week, it was common knowledge that you weren’t at Papa’s side like you once had been. No one knew exactly what had happened, but they all knew something had changed. You held your high as you saw Brothers, Sisters, and Ghouls alike turn to each other and whisper or stop mid sentence to stare at you. Those that had the decency to treat you normally, you acted as if nothing was wrong, as if your former life with their Papa had never existed. 

Copia kept an eye on you from a distance. He was always watching out for you, ready to put everything on the line if someone took something one step too far. Both of you knew you had to keep your alliance, your relationship, a secret still. It would only create more of a scandal and you were already pushing your limit with just how much you could handle. On the rare occasion where another Cardinal would catch on, when questioned, he simply dismissed it as being entertained by this week’s gossip. If they suspected it was something more, they never let on. 

Luckily you had managed to avoid seeing Terzo throughout the week, the perks of his schedule still being lodged in your memory.  If only your luck had run out earlier. It would have saved you the near panic attack that the first Black Mass had brought you. That was the number one rule: Black Mass was mandatory. Very few exceptions were accepted for missing it. Wanting to avoid your ex? Absolutely not on the list of valid excuses. 

Your compromise was being fashionably late, arriving only moments before it started. This allowed for you to slip in and find an open seat on the end of the last pew. The Sister next to you shifted awkwardly, not knowing what to do with herself in your presence. You pretended you didn’t notice, but you did. You always did. 

Foolishly, you hoped your late entrance and being hidden in the back would shield you from his gaze. Focused on the prayer book in front of you, you didn’t even need to look up to know when his eyes landed on you. Against your own judgement, you looked up. You caught his eye just long enough to see his painted eyebrows pull together. A flash of pain, maybe even regret. But as he began the next verse, he looked away from you and carried on with Mass. If you ever looked away from the book in front of you, you found Copia. His eyes always found yours, but his expression stayed unreadable.

To everyone around you, you looked stoic and devoid of any real expression on your face. As the time for communion neared, your insides felt like they were in a blender. You balled your fists at your sides so tightly, your knuckles were white. Seeing the mischief dance in his eyes, you knew he was going to pull something. 

The closer you got to him, the more your skin crawled. Whatever he was planning, you were hellbent on getting the last word, the last laugh. Your life was a living-hell because of him. Right there, right then you vowed to make his just as miserable.

You could feel every eye on you the moment you kneeled in front of him. Everyone waited with baited breath as they waited on the edge of their seats for whatever was about to unfold. Will they? Won’t they? Civil? Uncivil?

He pressed the wafer roughly into your tongue, slowly dragging his finger away so it hit your bottom lip. Your apathetic expression vanished. Your eyes grew wide before a catastrophic storm blew over your face. He knew you well enough to know what you hated to be the center of attention, for every single person in the room to be solely focused on you. But you left him. You left him for someone else. He hadn’t heard a word from you or even caught a glimpse of you since you left and he tried. He desperately tried. 

The tension was radiating off the two of you in palpable waves. For you, this was a whole new level of fury. Depending on whatever he would do next, you prayed to Satan for forgiveness for however you would react, especially when you saw the smirk on his face deepen as he grabbed the chalice of wine from an alter Ghoul. Your breathing became hard and shallow as your rage continued to erupt.  

“Hmm,” he hummed seductively as he poured the wine into your mouth. “How I’ve missed seeing you like this, sorella…” He spoke loud enough that the handful of people who overheard let out an audible gasp. You were never a Sorella to him. His sarcastic tone poured into your open wounds like salt. This wasn’t a game anymore. This was war. 

You pursed your lips as you stood, not having swallowed the wine. In a fluid motion, you grabbed him by his papal robes, spitting the wine in his face. As the whole room gasped, they held their breaths. It was so quiet, you could’ve heard a hairpin drop. “Vaffanculo, bastardo,” you growled as you let him go with a shove. (Go fuck yourself, bastard.)

Everyone still lingering in the aisle parted as you stormed out, pushing open one set of the double doors so hard that it slammed behind you. It wasn’t until then that you let the tears cascade down your face.

Back inside, Primo had to cover his mouth to hide his laughter, Secondo let his head fall into his palm as he shook it in tired disapproval, Sister Imperator’s eye twitched, and Nihil held his oxygen mask to his face for several breaths. The whole congregation began to stir as Terzo walked off to the Cardinal’s table to get something to wipe the wine off his face. Copia stood so fast his chair almost fell over. When he turned to leave, “Ah, ah, ah, Cardinale,” Terzo tutted. “You were selected to lead the closing prayer tonight. Ricordi, sì?” (You remember, yes?) 

Slowly Copia turned to him. The fury in his eyes rivaled yours. He grabbed his prayer book and stiffly walked to the center podium. Terzo had gotten under his skin and he knew it too. He refused to wipe the conniving look from his face. Copia caught Sister Imperator’s eyes as he passed by. She looked away, but gave him a curt nod. She knew he was right. She knew what had to be done.

~~~

As soon as you slammed the door to Copia’s you sank down to your knees and let out a blood-curdling scream. You banged your fists into the floor, not caring about the pain. “Please, Satanas. Belial. Lucifer, please, please, forgive me. Please, forgive me. Ambo te ignosce me. Please. Please,” you sobbed over and over again in English and Latin. You were in a relationship with the current Papa, but you weren’t his spouse. In the technical eyes of the church, you really were just a Sister, even if you were high up in the ranks. What you did to him… during Black Mass of all times… You defiled Papa in front of the whole congregation. It was grounds for expulsion from the Abbey. It was grounds for excommunication. “Please forgive me…” you cried softly into the ground as your arms curled around your head.  

When you finally ran out of energy and were just laying on the floor catching your breath, you forced yourself to get up. Your limbs felt like they were weighed down with cement. Your voice you knew was hoarse. You could feell how puffy your eyes were and your sinuses felt like balloons.

You made your way over to the couch, grabbing the tissues that were still on the coffee table. On autopilot, you blew your nose a few times before you leaned back and stared at nothing. You sat there in the dark constantly replaying every single moment that made you want to cry and scream all over again. But you couldn’t. You simply couldn’t move. The only thing you could do was wait for Copia. You didn’t know if he would be more mad at you or Terzo for the spectacle. You didn’t know if he could do any damage control for you. So there you stayed, staring off into the void. Too numb to continue worrying. Too numb to care.

Copia burst through the door like a bat out of hell when he was finally able to return home. “Where are you?!” he demanded. 

You only winced at the sound. “In here…” was all you managed to croak. 

He went right for you, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” You avoided eye contact. He reached over and turned the lamp beside the couch on. You shut your eyes tightly as they adjusted to the light. He shook you again. “Look at me.”

You dragged your eyes to his face. Tears started to well up again when you saw the pained look on his face and the sheer panic in his eyes. For him to look that fearful… no, this couldn’t be good. You looked away from him again when tears started to fall. “What did he say to you?” he murmured, wiping your tears away.

“He said he missed seeing me like that,” you said through gritted teeth. Copia’s face darkened. It was worse than he thought. “And then he called me sorella. In front of everyone,” you added.

“But bambina,” he sighed, “you are just a sorella now. You aren’t together. He is still… our Papa.” He could barely say the last sentence.

“He is not my Papa! He will never be my Papa! Do you have any idea what this week has been like for me? Do you?” you yelled.

“No, I don’t because you’ve done nothing but shut me out!” he yelled back. Your face dropped when he raised his voice at you. You knew he was right. Old habits die hard. He took a deep breath to calm himself. When he looked back at you, his face had softened considerably. He brushed the hair out of your eyes. “You have to let me in, amore mio,” he whispered. “I can’t help you if I don’t know…”

“I-I’m sorry. It’s just… it’s all been too much,” you squeaked. “I-I don’t know how much more I can take.”

He reached to take your hands in his, but that wasn’t enough. You needed more than solace, more than comfort. You needed him. So you grabbed his pellegrina and pulled him to you. Your sudden show of force took him off balance. His arm shot out to grab the back of the couch to brace himself so he didn’t fall on top of you. He scrambled so that he was straddling you. His other hand grabbed the side of your neck. He used his thumb to caress your face. The weight of him on you was like being thrown a life vest as you were drowning.

“I’m working on… I’m trying to…” he sighed, unable to express what he wanted to tell you. “There are some things going on that not many know about, okay? The less you know… The less you know the better. It’s safer for you that way, hm?” 

You nodded. You trusted Copia. You trusted him more than you ever trusted anyone in your whole life. But so many worries and fears burdened your cluttered mind. “How can I even show my face again?” you whispered, barely audible.

“With your head held high, amore. You made it through this week, eh? You can make it through the next.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead, but you rolled your eyes.

“Unless they kick me out for what I did.”

“They wouldn’t dare. You have powerful allies, cara. You might get a, eh, slap on the wrist,” he chuckled lightly before he turned serious again. “We can go to war with him, but it is to be a silent war, hm? No more public displays of battle at mass.”

“He started it,” you pouted. 

“For what it’s worth, topolina, he deserved it,” he said with a smirk bordering on seeming prideful.

You couldn’t help but smile. “Are you… proud of me?” you asked slyly.

“No, no. I don’t condone those acts of… defiance, but… I’m not upset about it either…” he said, playfully which made you let out a small giggle. His heart swelled seeing you smile. He brushed his knuckles against your cheek. “I will always fight for you. Remember that, okay? Sempre. Ora sei mio.” (Always. You’re mine now.)

Your eyes darted from his eyes to his lips before you nodded. “Sì. Sono tua. Sono tua,” you said breathlessly as you stared deeply into his mismatched eyes. He leaned down to kiss you, softly at first, but the hunger you had for each other caused flames to erupt. His tongue caressed your bottom lip and you opened your mouth eagerly for him. Naturally, that was when there was a soft knock at the door.

“Cazzo,” he breathed. He went to get up, but you pulled him back, still having his pellegrina in your iron grip. You shook your head no with a pout. He didn’t need much convincing to return his lips to yours, but then there was another, louder knock. This time it was much more urgent. You sighed as you let go of him. 

You peaked around, able to see the small entryway from your spot on the couch. It was a ghoul, handing something over to Copia. “Grazie. Th-thank you,” he said to the ghoul before they turned and marched away. The door shut and he walked back over to you in a daze. “I-it’s for you…” he said as he handed you a black envelope. You turned it over to see the wax seal of Papa Emeritus III. 

Worriedly, your eyes flashed up at Copia. You opened it with trembling fingers. Before you could pull out the contents of the envelope, you shoved it into Copia’s chest. “I can’t,” you told him. He dutifully continued to open it, eyes scanning over the letter. When his brow furrowed, you couldn’t take the suspense anymore. “What? What is it?”

“It’s a summons. For tomorrow morning.”

part ii | part iv

[sodoswitchimage]

I don’t know what to do with myself now that October is over…. There were soooo many amazing masterpieces written that fed me everyday 🖤🖤 so proud of everyone and the effort put forth to write for us peasants 😂 thank you for making my October extra special 😈👏🏼🧎‍♀️ @da-rulah @bupia @her-satanic-wiles @writingjourney @ramblingoak @molly-ghuleh

[lilmiss-purity-xoxo]

ᏊˊꈊˋᏊ˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰ᥕᥱᥣᥴ᥆꧑ᥱ t᥆ ꧑ᥡ bᥣ᥆g꒱ ₊˚ˑ༄

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚. 𝒮𝓌ℯℯ𝓉 𝒹𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓂𝓈 ˚★. ᘏ ⑅ ᘏ   ഒ    zᶻ ꒰˶  - ˕ -꒱ ⌒)ᦱ

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Ꮚ´ꈊ｀Ꮚ Hewwo!! Ꮚ・ꈊ・Ꮚ

☪︎ You can refer to me as Purity! 💙 ☪︎ Feb.3.2005. -Bday (19 rn)

☪︎ Female ☪︎ Digital Artist

☪︎ Gamer ☪︎ #Maggot4Life / #Ghoulette4Life ☪︎ Pfp Made by me <3

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

☪︎ My main interest in digital art is creating oc's and fan art of my interest!

☪︎ I like to create and write my own stories or Alternative universes for random a from time to time.

☪︎ I love music, and although I listened to a little bit of everything in order of .y favorite artist/bands they are; Ghost,Slipknot,Pitbull,ICP,Weeknd,Post Malone,Seether

☪︎ I'm mainly in the fandoms; Ghost,Slipknot,Sopranos,Slashers/Horror,DBD,Twisted Metal,COD

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

ᏊˊꈊˋᏊ˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰About ꧑ᥡ bᥣ᥆g꒱ ₊˚ˑ༄

☪︎ This blog will mainly be about the band Ghost, my self inserts, ocs, and my own stories. Might splash in now and then anything in between about my interest.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

ᏊˊꈊˋᏊ˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰Status on ꧑ᥡ bᥣ᥆g꒱ ₊˚ˑ༄

☪︎ Ask; Open

☪︎ AT; Open

☪︎ DT; Open - Hesitant

☪︎ Drawing Request; Open

☪︎ Drawing Request Rules and To Knows;

Fandoms I do: Ghost , Slipknot , Slashers , Sopranos

Subjects I will NEVER do: Furries, Zoophiles, Pro shipping, Anime

Oc Interaction: Will do but be specific on which oc of mine you want interacting with which character or your oc. (If its your oc and not a fandom character, provide reference.)

Oc Pieces: Hesitant on drawing others oc's , if I find your character interesting enough and your request isn't too complex might do!

Do not rush or get upset if I do not do your request, I have every right to reject your request, and I am doing this on my free time. I will likely not do big pieces or HQ works as I would save that for AT/DT.

Suggestive and full blown NSFW content I might not likely do, especially of you request your own oc, I WILL NOT do anything mature with another person's oc.

☪︎ Reference Sheets:

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☪︎ DNI: Pro shippers, MAP, Owner of a blog with triggering themes, Anyone below 17. [My blog is more likely to be mature, there will be proper warnings and censorship for post when need to be] , Fetishize irl murderers

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

ᏊˊꈊˋᏊ˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰꧑ᥡ m᥆᥆tS꒱ ₊˚ˑ༄

@call-me-mephistophelees , @spooky-creamo-for-primo , @elio-ghoul , @miriena , @copiasslut , @bulletproofthroat , @da-rulah , @checkerboardhorns , @rightintheghoulies

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

[honimello]

POST GIFS OF YOUR 10 FAVORITE SHOWS WITHOUT THE NAMES, THEN TAG SOME PEOPLE!!

thank you for tagging me @ramblingoak and @ibikus !! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

let’s start with the basics

anyone who wants to hop on this go ahead!! i’m gonna tag @sovaghoul @da-rulah @ghoulymadge @angellayercake @fallowsisasleep and @kaleidos-copia no pressure !!

[molly-ghuleh]

Oh my gosh please tell me something - anything - about "Secondo the Christmas Grump 😤"

YES OFC!!!! Me and a few other writers are coming up with a lil something something in the near future for the holidays (no spoilers yet!!) and I chose to write the Secondo portion of the project. As we all know he’s not the most cheerful papa, but perhaps reader can change his mind about that��.. with some spice of course.

[da-rulah]

"Congratulations... You just became a father." Rite Here Rite Now (2024)

[poorlittlevampire]

like listen. i love ghost i really really do but this shit is so KEJZJDKSJSJD

[ghuleh-recs]

Cardinal Copia is the flavor of the day mostly because I just miss that big nose.

recs under the cut.

Confessional - @da-rulah - Copia x F!Reader - 22k

As a sister of sin, it was your duty to confess at least once a month, to have your sins praised by a higher up member of the clergy. But you only ever chose Thursday nights, when you knew he was on duty. And tonight, you were working up the courage to confess your darkest sin - the dreams you had been having…

Paper Armor - @ratballet - Copia x Dewdrop - 14k

“Horns,” Aether says quickly, like the words in his mouth are searing him. “It’s his horns.” He spares a glance at Dewdrop’s door, like he’s afraid he might be pressed up against it, listening. “He’s shedding them." Dewdrop is shedding his horns. Copia tries to help.

The Count - @kissingghouls - Copia x F!Reader - 11.7k

A curious Sister of Sin finds out she's not alone in the castle.

A Cardinal Truth - @leezlelatch - Copia x GN!Reader - 2.6k

It’s time to worship that belly and those thighs like they deserve.

Bound by Lace - @writingjourney - Copia x F!Reader - 2.8k

After mercilessly teasing you at Papa’s birthday dinner, the Cardinal can’t have you sneaking away from him.

A Man After Midnight - @ramblingoak - Copia x F!Reader - 3k

You and Cardinal Copia make your way back to his room after a night of drinking with the Papas

Copia/Cardinal Marian (series) - @anamelessfool - Copia x OFC - 68k

Stories featuring Copia with his long-time foil and lover, Cardinal Marian.

oops - @ghostchems - Copia x F!Reader - 1.4k

copia makes a mistake while summoning a new ghoul.

⛧ now go forth and read, bookmark, kudos, comment, & add your own Copia recs to the list!!

Browse some other Copia/Papa IV recs here!

[threeonine]

Da Rulah

[da-rulah]

Boxer Copia gets dressed

[da-rulah]

Ghost B.C. - The Olde One - Papaganda Ep. 1

[da-rulah]

We will go softly into the night...

Respite on the Spitalfields (Rite Here Rite Now 2024)