#rip sister imperator

[blaze-ghoul]

Since it's been announced publicly I'd like to formally say, May Sister Imperator rest in peace. She will be missed. The clergy certainly feels quiet without her. It's definitely not great or anything. My job is definitely not easier without her barking orders at me! I'm gonna miss her yelling over her coffee order. I'll never look at two creams and three sugars the same way....or was it four? Either way, rest in peace Ma'am. It was an honor serving you, it's gonna be even more of an honor serving Frater Imperator but that's beside the point.

[citrusbunnies]

o7 sister imperator

[copia]

COPIA'S JOURNEY TO RITE HERE RITE NOW ⛧ PREQUELLE ERA

"We need someone new. A firm leader; with youth, and stamina—and sexual charisma...."

video sources | comic bubbles | latin transcript | title font

[impossibletragedykitten]

My favorite midwest shop by a mile. Then they go do something like this and make me dig them more. 🫶

[gogodollie]

When he's drunk and sentimental, older/old Nihil puts on a record and asks Imperator to dance with him. When he's sober, he's too scared of rejection to ask, but she'd probably still say yes.

THATS RIGHT. THATS RIGHT. MORE OLD PEOPLE LOVING

their whole thing is dancing of course nihil still wants to sweep her off her feet. and of course sister still wants to be romanced like that. and what better time to initiate than after popping the cork of some ridiculously expensive wine that he got specifically for their date night, aka just staying in for the evening and lounging on the couch while they reminisce and complain about their days. and once they're reaching for the cheaper wine they have saved for mass, nihil always manages to stumble over to sister's sizeable record collection. she'll just watch from the couch like she doesn't know what he's doing and hide her smile behind her glass while she pretends to take another sip, all while insisting that it's past curfew and he's going to get them a noise complaint. but then comes the argument of well i'm papa so i can play music whenever the hell i feel like it which she wants to nip in the bud because it doesn't work like that but he's drunk and she's not trying to wind up in an empty bed tonight soooo she can forgive it for now.

nihil knows her favorites by heart, even without feeling the worn down covers and spines of her collection, music is the one thing that they've always had- even during the rocky years between them after the breakup. sometimes he'll throw a favorite of hers on just for the familiar ease of it all butttttttttttt other times he'll just put on some popular track that she doesn't necessarily enjoy but one that she's familiar with. because what's their relationship without the fun of playing hard to get? nihil gets to try and beckon her over while mouthing along to some classic love song while she rolls her eyes at him and shrugs him off, turns her head away while smiling all stupid and already setting her wine glass aside because she knows what's coming and she knows she'll give in soon. just not yet. nihil has to make his way over to her and offer a hand and pull her to her feet for her to finally give in- she loves his insistence, always has. most times it's just some slow swaying because god they're old okay their bodies hurt and they can't do all the crazy shit they used to on the dance floor. it's sweet and slow and comfortable. but i mean when they get a little too wine drunk then yeah they're totally ignoring that and just fucking going for it, giggling the whole time while nihil tries to dip sister and they trip over each other and sister accidentally steps on his feet in her heels while they try to swing around. they'll sing along to all the tracks they know by heart and it's all sickly sweet and sister will laugh and push his face away when he obnoxiously sings god only knows or i wanna hold your hand at her, his nose pressed against her cheek while he alternates between kissing her and singing.

AND UGHHHHH THE FEW TIMES THAT SISTER ACTUALLY INITIATES.........

we've all seen how nihil gets about the old days and missing out on the fame of his youth and what he could have had when it comes to his music career and such- he's clinging onto the sax solo but i mean it's just not the same and he feels that. and obviously he's an old man and being super annoying and kind of reserved about it (okay maybe not reserved but he knows better than to actually make a fuss. he's just mumbling about it under his breath and being snappy with everyone when he thinks too hard about it some days). sister is used to it and does her job to make him lock in and not be a bitch to copia about it but i mean... some days she does feel bad. she loved the band and his music just as much and knows how much it all meant to him. so maybe she makes her way into his office unannounced and scares him on accident while he's busy slouching and moping in one of the extra chairs. snaps at him to get up (which he obviously does because why would he ever disobey sister. but of course he complains and questions why) while she walks over to the old record player on the shelf and works out the single she's carried in until the speaker finally kicks. she spent a half hour searching for this particular recording of hey lover by the daughters of eve so you bet your ass she's making him go along with this all- she's only nice like this so often and he has to appreciate it if he ever wants it to happen again. it's not the sort of music she listens to often but she figured it worked well enough for the occasion and nihil had been somewhat of a fan of the group back in the day. grabs his hands and pulls him closer until he takes the hint and wraps one arm around her so she can settle her now free hand to rest on his chest. and maybe she mumbles along to the lyrics because she knows that he knows that she's familiar with them and she wants to make sure that he actually hears it, wants him to realize why exactly this particular song was chosen. and it doesn't fix things, sister knows it can't change the past or give nihil the opportunities that he missed in life but the gesture is enough to pull him out of his shitty mood for the rest of the day at least.

[coffeecupwitch]

Unable to make it to a mourning site because of responsibilities and proximity. So I thought I'd mark the day with a small altar in my home. RIP Sister Imperator

[much-ado-abt-evrythng]

i would let this woman chew on me like a piece of meat.

Showing off girlfriend’s scary teeth.

[gravehags]

let the devil in

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

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: OH THEY FUCKIN, PinV, loss of virginity, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, improper timing of satanic prayer, lots of ooey gooey feelings, secondo being a real one, stelline the rat makes a brief return, sister imperator being unsettling as shit

Words: 6,803

Summary: You have just about had enough of dancing around one another. It's now or never.

a/n: bro writing this had me shaking THIS IS IT, THE BIG ONE god i hope it lives up to my hype

The remainder of your time off passes without incident - for better and for worse. 

Copia has been lovely - a perfect gentleman - but as much as you appreciate his sweet words and his kind heart, you’re left wondering why he hasn’t made any…advances towards you. When your kisses turn heated he shies away and you don’t pursue the issue, wondering if you’re just coming on too strong. Wondering if he regrets the evening you spent together on New Years Eve. You try not to let it get to you but every night you lie awake, staring up at the ceiling worried that he has regrets. Part of you - the part that sees the sincerity in his eyes when he dotes on you, the logical part - tells you that he’s just being cautious. The other part of you…well. That little parasite is constantly in your ear telling you he’s just being kind - too kind to rip the bandaid off and break it off with you. Back and forth these two sides play tug of war and you’re the one left to suffer in silence. And it’s not just your mind that suffers but your body. Your body aches for him, your fingers frantically pressing against your clit in a poor imitation of the curve of his cock. You crave his touch and are filled with sadness as you watch the bruises his fingers left on your thighs yellow and fade. You want to bring your concerns up to him but the fear that the awful little parasite in you has been right all along keeps your mouth shut. So you let him court you - bring you more flowers (dark red peonies this time, you dried the roses he gave you the moment they began to wilt and now the bundle hangs from your bedroom mirror), hold your hand on your daily walks, eat by your side - and hope that through sheer force of will he seeks out your embrace once more. You’re almost relieved when you start back at work again, able to keep your hands and mind busy with something other than your unsettling thoughts and anxiety-fraught fledgling relationship.

–

Copia feels as if he’s going mad.

Not from you, never from you but…his desire for you. The way his body and his mind relive the feel of your cunt pressed up against him, the heat and wet pushing against his clothed cock. He clenches his fist and shifts in his office chair, the wood creaking beneath him. He’s trying his best - his very best - to be good and sweet and docile for you. To treat you like he wants to, like he knows you deserve. But his want for you is all-consuming, dogging him day and night, in your presence and without it. He wants your body - wants to corrupt your body - true, but more than that he wants…you. Hungers for your soul, your love. Wants to crawl inside your veins and make a home in your heart. He’s told you he loves you, true, but would the extent of it scare you off? He’s torn by wanting to confess the darkest parts of his passion to you and keeping you at a safe distance, like a porcelain doll on a shelf. New Year's Eve left him reeling, dizzy even as he slept beside you that night and you curled into him. You’re so good to him - far better than he deserves - and he can feel the lust radiating off of you whenever your kisses become heated. The devil whispers for him to let go, let you untether that beast inside him that he tries so hard to muzzle. The chain that holds him back weakens day by day, every moment you give him that look from across the couch or the dinner table he’s closer to ruin.

Which leads him to today. 

You’ve popped by his office on your lunch break, standing by the windows and holding his hands in yours. 

“Come over to my place tonight?”

He’s about to answer when there’s a knock on the door and it swings open. When he sees Secondo standing there he drops your hands as if burned and takes a step away from you.

“Mi scusi, I’ve interrupted something,” Secondo turns to leave but Copia calls out.

“No, no. Eh, nothing interrupted. She was just leaving - weren’t you, signorina?”

He immediately regrets his choice of words when he sees you jolt as if slapped at the cold tone of his voice and the return of your old title. Secondo’s sharp gaze flicks back and forth between you and him but he remains silent.

“Y-yeah. Okay. Sorry, Secondo. Goodbye, Cardinal.”

Ouch. He deserves that. As does he deserve the way you leave and shut the door behind you without a second glance back to him. Anxiety sinks heavy in his stomach as he lowers himself to slump on the end of his desk. He nearly forgets his fratello is there when the imposing papa clears his throat.

“Che cazzo, stronzo?” he barks, making Copia wince and fold in on himself. He’s not sure if it’s wiser to play dumb or fess up to his feelings but judging by the steely look in Secondo’s eye, he’ll take nothing less but the truth.

“It’s…a long story.”

“No it isn’t,” Secondo snarls, stalking over to him and jabbing him in the chest with a long finger. “You’re being chicken shit, aren’t you?”

Leave it to Secondo to suss out the reality of the situation in a heartbeat. Copia shifts himself out of poking distance and rounds the desk to collapse in his chair.

“I…eh…sì.”

Secondo crosses his arms and stares down at him imperiously.

Copia reaches up and rubs the bridge of his nose, unsure of how much detail to give him. Judging from the look on Secondo’s face, he wants to hear all of it.

“So we…got together. The night of the Yule gathering. I walked her back to her rooms and we… eh…made out along the way. We got to her place and she invited me in and I…I wanted to treat her as she deserves, sì? Flowers, dates, chocolates, the whole shebang. So I told her that. Then she–”

His voice cracks and he clears his throat, the mere memory of the incident enough to rile him up.

“She tells me she’s a virgin. A virgin, Secondo. Sathanas, I nearly grabbed her and had her in the damn hallway.”

Secondo makes a noise, his eyebrows rocketing up. He’s clearly not unmoved by this information either.

“So after that I…I try my best - my fucking best - to keep my composure. And maledetto inferno she did not make it easy, the little minx. And then I asked her out on a date. Our first. We went to Lucia’s on New Year’s Eve - came back, opened a bottle of champagne and well. Things escalated.”

“Did you…?”

“No,” Copia says hastily, “I mean…we didn’t do nothing but she remains ah…intact. Since then I-I don’t know what to do. The way she looks at me, the way she kisses me, touches me…”

“Fratello,” Secondo says, leaning against the wall and crossing his legs at the ankle, “forgive me but I’m not seeing the problem with a beautiful, young virgin desiring you.”

“No, no, no, that’s not it,” Copia says, “it’s not what she wants that scares me…it’s what I want. Secondo, I love her more than anything, desire her more than anything but…I’m afraid if she sees the extent of my passion, my obsession with her I’ll…I’ll drive her away. Like everyone else, sì? So I restrain myself at every turn.”

Secondo nods, quiet for a moment before speaking carefully.

“Copia, have you considered telling her any of this? That perhaps maybe sharing your fears with her - someone who loves you very deeply in return - will help alleviate your angst? Not to mention you’re probably driving the poor girl mad with lust, vecchio cane.”

Copia snorts and Secondo smiles.

“You two were so blind for so long, unwilling to see the feelings you had for one another when to everyone else it was obvious. She was made for you, and you for her. I’ve seen you chase after a few people over the years, fratello, and you looked at none of them the way you look at her. So tell her. Show her, for fuck’s sake. You know full well how many in this abbey would kill to be in your position, huh? Terzo, for one, which is why this stays between us, sì? You need to make your move before he catches wind of her…condition.”

Copia nods vigorously, heaving a deep sigh and tipping his head against the back of his chair.

“Grazie, Secondo. For listening, as you always have.”

Secondo nods solemnly before pushing himself off the wall and making to leave.

“W-why did you come in originally?” Copia asks.

Secondo shrugs and winks his white eye.

“Brotherly intuition. Ciao, Copia.”

With a little wave the papa is gone and Copia sighs.

He’d come see you tonight. It was now or never.

–

You make sure to stay out of Copia’s way the remainder of the day, more confused than angry. When he’s with you he’s hot and cold - professing his love but ultimately shying away from your touch - and when you’re around others, well. With Terzo he’s possessive, with Secondo he’s jumpy. What is going on in that head of his? Well. Doesn’t matter. You’ve already made your mind up to go to him tonight and sort things out. He’s got confession duty until eight which gives you plenty of time to…prepare. A shiver runs through your body at the implication that if you play your cards right, tonight could be the night. Perhaps…you look at the small bundle of keys on the lanyard around your neck, sorting through them to find a specific one. He gave you the key to his rooms last week. Perhaps he would be more ah…pliant…to your desires were you to simply be…waiting for him. You giggle, actually giggle aloud, in your empty office. He’s not going to know what hit him.

You’re distracted the rest of the day, head filled with plans and scenarios, and you move through your tasks mechanically. When Sister Imperator drops by to give you a heads up about another painting she bought at auction she gives you a curious look. She’s been kind of weird around you since after the break - looking at you shiftily during meetings - and you’d be unsettled by it were your head not already filled with other things. When she turns to leave your office, she casually tosses “why don’t you take the rest of the day, hmm?” over her shoulder. You sputter, baffled as to how she seemed to know, and she turns around to give you a tight smirk before leaving with her red stilettos tapping on the marble. You’re holding your breath watching her retreat down the hall and you look at your watch.

3:21 PM

You’ve got hours but there’s a lot you have to cram in before then. First to head to the dining hall and wolf down a meal, then to Primo for a restock of your…meds, then to your quarters to shower and figure out what you’re going to wear. 

Better get going.

By the time you finish your tasks and return to your quarters, it’s 5:36 PM. You were waylaid by a group of siblings after you left Primo’s greenhouse who politely asked you to help them take pictures for the Ministry’s social media account. Dropping your keys and phone on the side table, you strip and leave a trail of clothes on the way to the bathroom. Your shower is swift but you still make sure to use your best smelling products. You go through your skincare routine and step out to look at the clock next to your bed.

6:17 PM

Shit. You feel like you're pushing it and you’re glad you ultimately decided not to wash your hair tonight. Padding out into your bedroom, you open your drawers and rifle through them. You wanted something that gave the impression you were…his for the taking. Something soft and well…virginal. When you pull a knee length cream colored silk nightgown out of your pajama drawer you make a loud noise of appreciation. A little wrinkled, maybe, but you doubt he would care. Tossing your towel on your bed you pull the slip over your head, shivering at the touch of the cool material. Your eyes travel to the top of your dresser and you spot your perfume - the one you know he loves - and give yourself a few spritzes before touching his gold grucifix on your collarbone. That should do it. But now you have to get from your quarters to his and somehow you think doing so in a thin nightgown isn’t the wisest decision so you grab your robe and wrap it snugly around you. Stepping into your slippers you walk out of your room and grab your phone and key, taking a deep breath.

It’s now or never.

The journey up the two floors to Copia’s quarters passes without incident, unless you count the siblings who saw your attire and gave you funny looks. Your hands are shaking - actually shaking - as you reach his door and unlock it, stepping inside. It’s dark.

“Shit,” you hiss, fumbling for the switch. When you manage to locate it and flip it on, the room is bathed in a soft yellow glow. His quarters are nice - not that yours are a dump, by any means - but the level of decorative detail has you inspecting every corner of his living space. Looking around you remove your robe and set it on a chair by the door. When you hear a few squeaks you shuffle over to the large rat cage in the corner, cooing at the little faces peering up at you. Stelline stands on her hind legs, nose snuffling in your direction.

“Hello, little loves,” you murmur, “I’ve got to be nosy for a second so you stay put, okay?”

When Stelline lets out a particularly loud squeak it makes you laugh so loud you clap your hand to your mouth. Before any more objections can be made you head to the other side of the room, past the wall of leaded glass windows, and through a doorway on the left. A small kitchen. Cute. Which means the other doorway leads…your heart thuds as you approach the darkened alcove and turn on yet another light switch. 

Copia’s bedroom.

It feels forbidden to be in this space and you step in cautiously, expecting at any moment to get busted for breaking and entering. It’s a decent size room - bigger than yours - with dark wood paneling and tapestries on the walls. There’s an empty fireplace on the left and a large dresser, as well as a high backed chair. There’s a doorway which undoubtedly leads to his bathroom and…there it is. A large four-poster bed with dark red hangings and matching covers. You swallow thickly, stepping over to it. This could be it, you think, running your hands over the duvet. This could be the place where y—wait, what’s that?

There’s a scrap of black peeking out from under his pillow and curious, you reach for it. When you pull the item out, your jaw drops.

Those. Those are yours. Your…

“That little pervert!” you crow, veins flooded with warmth at the thought of what he did with your underwear. Your dirty underwear. Filthy man…filthy delicious man. Well who are you to deprive him of his simple pleasures, you think as you stuff the garment back under the pillow. Should everything go right tonight you’ll tease him about it…afterwards. Shaking your head you look down at your phone.

7:21 PM

Still got about forty minutes to kill, assuming confession doesn’t go over. Suddenly you’re kicking yourself for rushing all day and walk over to the chair to plop down. Hopefully a little time on your phone will pass the minutes.

You’re on your…how many games of solitaire was this?...when you hear the distinct sound of a key in a lock. You can feel the blood drain from your face as you set your phone aside and grip the arms of the chair. When he enters and shuts the door behind him, making his weird little noises, you can’t help but smile. 

“Buonasera, i miei bambini!”

You can hear him scoot over to his rats, sighing deeply. He talks to them for a few moments before his footfalls begin to approach where you are. He’s got his biretta in hand as he spots you and stands frozen in the doorway, mouth agape.

“Hey,” you say, slowly rising out of the chair.

It takes him a moment to speak, too distracted by your outfit.

“Cara…” he breathes, setting his biretta down on his dresser, “I-I was going to come to you tonight.”

“Hmm, well,” you shrug, “beat you to it.”

There’s a ringing silence between the two of you, your heart thundering against your ribs. You take a step towards him.

“Copia, you don’t have to hold back. You don’t have to…have to hide from me. I love you. You know that.”

“Sì,” he whispers, “but do you know how much I love you? How I would do anything for you - to you - if you let me? Dolcezza I–”

“So what if I let you?” you ask, taking another step towards him. “What if I want you to? What if I’ve always wanted you to? What if you’re the only one I’ve ever–” you take two more steps towards him until you’re a breath apart, “--wanted to?”

He exhales shakily, breath stirring the hairs around your face.

“I’m giving you permission, Copia,” you breathe, “I want you to take, and take, and take from me until I have nothing left to give. I’m yours, my love. I’m–”

You don’t finish your declaration - don’t get a chance. Copia lunges at you like an animal, wrapping his arms around you drawing you snug against his chest with his lips pressed against yours. He’s never kissed you like this before - like a starving man - lips and teeth and tongue mingling with yours and peppered with groans and growls. He’s holding you so tight he squeezes the breath from your lungs as he nips at your throat, ravenous.

“Mine,” he growls, “amata mia. I’m going to make you sing, bellezza.”

When he licks along your carotid you gasp, and gently push at him.

“Let me undress you,” you breathe as you pant, “please Copia I want to see you.”

Copia pauses and pulls away to rest his forehead against yours before nodding. When he takes a step away from you, you mourn the warmth of his body.

“Go on, amore mio,” he murmurs.

“I-I don’t know where to start,” you confess with a smile. He offers his hands out to you.

“Here.”

This act alone is far more intimate than anything the two of you have done before. You know how he is about his hands and when you reach for them your own shake. Your fingers slide up the palm and wrist, taking the zipper and pulling. Gently, you ease each finger out of its sheath and pull the leather away. His hand is…beautiful. Large, freckled - like the rest of him - with a dusting of fine brown hair and–

“What happened?” you ask quietly, index finger tentatively brushing against the scar tissue in the center. “Copia is that–”

“Sì,” he answers simply and you reach for his other hand to repeat the process. You want to know, want to ask why but stay silent and save your curiosity for another time. Once the other one is bare you take them both in your hands and look at him.

“Beautiful,” you say softly, keeping your eyes on his as you raise each palm to your lips and place a firm, lingering kiss at the center. Some of the raw hunger leaves his eyes - replaced with utter adoration.

“What’s next?”

“This,” he points to his grucifix. It takes you a minute of peering at his pellegrina before you see where the bejeweled accessory is hooked. Delicately you detach it and set it on the dresser.

“Next?”

“My fascia,” Copia whispers, gesturing to his belt. When you loosen it from his waist, the long red material sliding through your hands, he watches you intently. You fold the garment up neatly and set it aside.

“Cassock?” you ask.

He nods, guiding your fingers to his neck. Each button feels like an eternity and by the time you reach his waist he can sense your quiet frustration.

“We can cheat with this one,” he murmurs, grabbing the sides and inching them up his body before pulling the garment over his head. When the red wool falls in a pile on the floor, you regard it fondly.

“I don’t know if I can wait any longer, amore,” he says, standing before you in his clerical shirt, suspenders, and trousers.

“One last thing, please,” you say before darting away and into the bathroom. You rummage around in the linen closet for a moment before pulling out a rag and turning on the sink. When you return to him with the soaked cloth he looks perplexed until you raise it to his face.

“If I’m going to see you naked,” you say, gently wiping away the paint on his right eye, “I want all of you naked.”

He chuckles, hands behind his back as you remove every bit of the Cardinal you can find. When you finish, he takes the rag from you and tosses it to the floor.

“On the bed, amata,” there’s a darkness, a self-assuredness in his tone that would feel almost foreign to you if you hadn’t heard it first on New Year’s Eve. It makes a shiver run down your spine as you step over to his bed. He follows, toeing off his shoes and reaching down to remove his socks, mismatched eyes watching you like a hawk as you clamber onto the red duvet. He pauses at the foot of the bed and slides his suspenders off his shoulders so they hang by his sides before unbuttoning the first few buttons of his clerical shirt to expose a pale sternum covered in more fine brown hair. You blink up at him before taking a deep breath, sitting up on your knees, and pulling the nightgown over your head. The garment falls to the rug in a whisper and there you are. Bare. Your heart is in your throat as you lean backwards against the pillows, presenting yourself to him.

Copia doesn’t look hungry anymore. 

He looks feral.

When he presses his knee on the bed and slowly begins to crawl towards you, your breathing comes in pants. He urges your legs apart, spreading you open for him and eyeing the thatch of curls at the juncture of your thighs before situating himself between your knees.

“Dolcezza,” he growls, bare hands ghosting over your hips without actually touching you, “will you join me in prayer?” 

Your mouth falls open.

“N-now?” His eyes fall to the heaving of your breasts as you continue to take ragged breaths. The drag of his gaze along every dip and swell of your body makes your face heat up.

“Sì, amore mio. For when else am I to give thanks to Sathanas for this most blessed gift? What better place than right–” he touches your knees, making you jump, “--here?” His hands slide up your thighs as he shuffles forward to loom over you, breath dancing with yours. Mismatched eyes bore into yours, the corner of his lips curled slightly in a wicked smile.

You nod.

“Unholy Father,” he begins before leaning down to slot his lips against yours. The kiss is unhurried, decadent even, and when his tongue slides hotly along yours you whimper into his mouth. The chuckle that reverberates into you has your body arching into his, eager for his touch. You think he’s about to do just that when he pulls away, a lewd string of saliva connecting the two of you. 

“Today I give thanks for this–” he inhales deep through his nose “--glorious favor you have bestowed upon me, a most faithful son.”

He lowers himself towards you once more, to press open-mouthed kisses along your throat. With some hesitancy, you bring your hand up to his head and drag your fingers through his hair, causing him to groan. His tongue traces a path across your clavicle - briefly pausing to kiss the gold grucifix that rests there - and continues down your sternum. 

“For what greater honor–” he pauses to suck at the swell of your breast, “--can you provide than an eager–” his lips drag torturously close to where you need him, “--willing–” his tongue darts out to graze the taut bud, “sweet–” he hovers over your nipple, eyes trained up on yours, and his hot breath makes you shiver, “--virgin.” When he finally, finally lowers his lips to slip the hardened bud into his mouth you let out a keening moan. He sucks hungrily, teeth teasing at it and tongue soothing the catch of bone on flesh. 

“Copia, fuck,” you breathe, fingers buried in his hair to cradle him against you, “mmm just like that. Just like that, love.”

He rewards the endearment by bringing his hand up to your other breast and cupping the soft flesh in his large palm. When his thumb brushes over your nipple your hips buck again, and you can feel him smile against your skin. He wetly pulls off of you and you let out an undignified whimper at the loss.

“I have her heart,” he says, and you’re wildly confused for a moment before it dawns on you that he’s not done praying. The realization makes your head fall back against his pillows, your tongue sliding out to wet your lips. He’s abandoned your breasts now and has slid further down, hands on your waist. 

“I have her mind,” he places a soft kiss to the curve of your belly once - and again - before sliding down even further.

“Her soul–” he kisses the underside of your stomach once more, his mustache tickling you, “--I’m working on—“ 

When he glances up at you with a grin you smile back, deliriously enchanted, “--and her body…” 

His breath stirs the curls between your legs and your heart pounds. “...Is now mine.” The low, almost sinister tone of his voice makes you gasp, knowing full well what comes next. 

“Nema.”

“N-nema.”

He bows his head in reverence and taking his thumbs, spreads you open and drags his tongue through your slick folds. The sensation sends a shockwave through you, your back arching off the mattress as you squirm.

“Copia!”

His hands fly to your hips, gripping and kneading the flesh as he continues to work his tongue against you. He’s content to lap at your entrance for a couple of minutes before dragging the muscle upwards slightly and–oh. When he curves the flat of his tongue along your swollen clit he really has to hold you down. Your fingers cling to the silvered brown strands on his head, holding him against you and through your lowered lids you can see his hips minutely grinding against the mattress. You’re laughing, high and breathy, as he flicks the tip of his tongue against you, better than your fingers or any vibrator. When he moans into your cunt, fingers digging into your flesh you gasp.

“Fuck, my love, right there. Don’t stop, don’t stop, Copia please.”

He grins against you, mouth returning to gather the slick at your entrance and the tip of his long, large nose grinding against your clit. The sensation is overwhelming as your body thrashes and, you think deliriously, he’s definitely going to leave marks with how firmly he’s holding you. When he pulls away from you - no doubt to catch his breath - he leans up on his elbows a little and gives you a wolfish grin. 

“Dolcezza, what a sacrifice you make. Ave Sathanas.”

You laugh, grinning down at him as he returns to his task. When he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, again and again, you know it’s over. You’re babbling nonsense, sweet little words of praise at your lover, as you feel that familiar wave begin to crest inside you.

“Copia, oh fuck Copia I’m so close honey.”

He hums around you, hips continuing to rut into the duvet as he devours you. When you no longer have the ability to form words, you moan, higher and higher as you grip his hair and the covers. He pulls away slightly, making you cry out in desperation but when he returns he gently nudges the tip of his finger inside you. It’s not enough to make any real impact but the knowledge that he’s simply toying with you as you thrash below him has you letting out breathy, hysterical laughter.

“So good for your Cardinal,” he pants, and when you meet his gaze you can feel yourself clenching around his finger. “So tight for me and I haven’t even filled you yet. Tell me - did you use your own fingers while thinking of me?”

“Copia pl–”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chastises, licking his lips. “I won’t give you what you want until you answer me, amore mio.”

You’ve only seen glimpses of this side of him before - hints at what lurked below the surface but now that you’re being fully exposed to this Copia - self-assured and smug in his power - your hunger for him increases tenfold.

“Yes, I-I did.”

“How many?”

He asks the question with all the casualness of asking for the price of apples at the farmer’s market.

“D-depends. Sometimes two. Sometimes thre–ah!”

He doesn’t even let you finish before he’s easing a second finger into you, stretching you open.

“My fingers are much bigger than yours, amore,” he says as he begins to slide himself in knuckle deep. “We’ll start with two today to eh, warm you up, sì? Would you like that?”

He’s right - his fingers are a lot bigger than yours and when he pauses to gently crook them inside you your jaw falls open in a desperate moan.

“Y-yes. Yes! Fuck, Copia just like that. Please, my love, please.”

“You beg so prettily for me, dolcezza,” he growls, lowering his face to your cunt once more, “keep going.”

The sounds he draws out of you as he licks and sucks and fucks his fingers into you are unlike any you’ve made before. Somewhere in the back of your fuzzy mind you wonder if people passing by in the hallway can hear you but that only makes your hips buck into his touch even harder. You do as he asks and begs, promising him anything, anything as long as he doesn’t stop, please don’t stop. When you finally come apart, your muscles burn and you scream his name - fuck now you know someone heard that - as he presses against that sweet spot inside you. You don’t even notice him removing his mouth and pulling back so he can watch your face contort as you pant and sweat against his pillows. Your vision has gone blurry as you stare at the canopy above you, only somewhat aware of him sliding his fingers out of you and pulling back. You look up at him, sitting on his haunches looking both smug and full of affection, as he licks at the mess on his hand.

“C’mere,” you say, crooking a finger at him. He obliges with a smile, and when his face approaches yours you grab him by the back of the head and pull him in for a slow, wet kiss. 

“Mm–like the taste of yourself, ragazza mia? Filthy thing.”

You can feel his cock nudging you through his pants and you grind upwards against him. He growls into your mouth before pulling away.

“Don’t finish me before I get started, amata,” he purrs, leaning down to run his tongue along your jaw.

You laugh.

“That wasn’t you getting started?” you marvel, and he pulls back to give you a lewd wink. “Take these off, my love. I want to see all of you.”

He nods, sliding backwards off the bed to stand. You watch him intently as he finishes unbuttoning and untucking his clerical shirt before unfastening his pants and sliding them and his underwear down to step out of them. He’s…gorgeous. You always knew he was but seeing him like this - bare and freckled, the brown hair on his body abundant - you sigh. Something dreamy and romantic sits on your tongue until your eyes travel to the juncture of his thighs and your mouth runs dry. He crawls on his hands and knees towards you, settling in between your legs and stroking his thick, reddened cock.

“You, eh. You like it?”

You nod dumbly, unable to form anything coherent. His body is clearer now in this light - he’s got a scar on the right side of his abdomen and on his left pectoral you see–

“A tattoo?!” you splutter loudly. 

The self-satisfied smile on his face drops as he lets go of his cock and it bobs in front of him.

“Really? That’s what you’re focusing on?”

The ridiculousness of the whole situation hits you at once - the two of you nude, you being a virgin, him with his tattoo, both of you in this fucking Satanic abbey - and you tilt your head back and laugh. He growls and throws himself forward, caging you in underneath him.

“I show you my cock and you laugh?” he chastises you, mustache twitching as he fights back a smile. “Have some dignity, piccola vergine mia.”

Your laughter dies and you take in the flushed face of the man above you, strands of hair falling into his eyes. 

“I love you.”

His eyes get misty, as do yours, as he reaches up to cup your cheek.

“Amata mia, dolcezza mia, vita mia, tutto mio. Ti amo. Per sempre.”

He leans down and places a sweet, soft kiss on your cheek before nuzzling into it.

“Are you ready?”

You cup his jaw and run your thumb over his cheekbone.

“Have your wicked way with me, Cardinale,” you smile, your hips shifting up against his. The drag of his wet cock against the heat of you makes him groan.

“Diavoletta mia,” he growls, leaning back and taking himself in hand. You spread your legs wider, still soaked from your earlier activities, and present yourself to him. When his cockhead prods at your entrance, you jump and his eyes fly to yours for confirmation. You nod and gently, slowly, he pushes himself in. There’s no pain, only pressure, as he slides in, his breathing ragged in an effort to maintain control. When he bottoms out, your bodies flush to one another, you pant up at him.

“Y-you okay?” he stammers, clearly trying his hardest to restrain himself. You watch a drop of sweat slide down his temple.

“Copia,” your voice is calmer than it’s been all evening, “don’t hold back.”

You feel his arms wobble on either side of you at your words as he slides nearly all the way out of you and pushes back in. He repeats the action, each thrust gaining more force than the last. The feel of him stretching you is divine, hypnotic, and watching him slowly come apart above you even more so. He’s moaning desperately with each slide of his cock, his eyes frantically searching yours.

“That’s it, baby,” you breathe, canting your hips upwards to meet his thrusts. “Just like that. Don’t stop.”

When you experimentally clench around him he whines, his hands seeking yours to entwine your fingers. He fucks into you a little harder, little deeper with a shift of his hips, making you arch your back and press your breasts against him.

“S-so good,” he whimpers, “so tight, amore. So–ah–sweet for me, always.”

All you can do is moan in response as he jerks against you. You’re full - so deliciously full of him - and wildly you wonder how you went this long without him. This man that you adored so deeply - who adored you back - who always cared, always listened. You can feel tears prick the corners of your eyes and you whimper as you wrap your legs around his waist as tight as you possibly can. His movements are limited now by your actions but you don’t care - all you care about is keeping the two of you joined as close as possible.

“Amore, amore, amore,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. Despite his thrusts no longer being quite as deep, they are no less forceful.

“Thank you,” you manage to eke out, “thank you. Vita mia. Mondo mio. You’re perfect.”

He chuffs out a noise between a sob and a pant, clearly moved by your use of language. The snap of his hips picks up and you can feel that pressure building inside of you once more. 

“Copia,” you whimper, “Copia I’m close, I’m so close, don’t stop. Please, my love.”

His fingers tighten in yours, palms slick with sweat and you feel yourself falling, falling. Your cunt spasms around him as his thrusts become wild, erratic and you feel wave upon wave of pleasure spreading from your core through your limbs and into your fingertips. It’s different from your usual orgasms - less violent, less frantic - but no less intense. You can feel the tears sliding down into your hair as you buck up against him, desperate to wring out every last moment of the feeling.

“Cara,” Copia’s voice is hoarse, “I’m–I’m going–”

“Let go. Show me how much you love me, Copia.”

Your command is all the permission he needs and lets out a low, broken moan of your name as his hips spasm into yours and you feel his seed pulse inside of you. Idly, you think about how glad you are that you visited Primo before this. You look up at the man on top of you and reach up to push his hair out of his eyes. His eyes are bright, white eye glowing, as he shakes and struggles to hold himself up. Gently, you ease him to the side, making sure to keep the two of you joined as he collapses next to you. You’re simply not ready to let go yet. The two of you tremble in each other’s arms, content to bathe in the heavy emotion. Your tears have dried and now a calm washes over you.

“Hey,” you murmur, fingers raking through Copia’s sweaty hair. He’s watching you carefully - every dart of your eyes and twitch of your cheeks - as if he’s anticipating something.

“Hey,” he says softly, reaching out to run his thumb over your bottom lip. “So was that, eh. Satisfactory?”

You snort and tug lightly at his hair.

“I think I can now say I’ve been thoroughly and successfully ravished, Cardinal. This must be quite a feather in your cap. You’ve made your Unholy Father proud.”

Now it’s his turn to snort.

“Just be thankful no one else found out about your, eh, former condition. You’d have had clergy and siblings and ghouls all lined up for you.”

“Oh,” you begin with a not-so-innocent tone, “so that’s why you romanced me, huh? Wanted first dibs?”

“Cara, no,” Copia says, deadly serious all of a sudden, “this isn’t–I would never–”

You laugh, dragging your fingers through his chest hair.

“My love, it’s been almost a year, I thought you’d be used to my stupid jokes by now.”

“Ah!” he rolls his eyes and waves at you dismissively, making you laugh even harder.

You finally have to separate, his softened cock sliding out of you as you push backwards. When you try to swing your legs over the bed and stand a hand wraps around your bicep and hauls you back down to bounce on the mattress.

“And where do you think you’re going, signorina?”

“Well I was gonna go pee and then–”

Quick as a cat, he rolls onto you, grinning down at you.

“Bellezza mia,” he purrs, “I hope you didn’t make plans for the next few days. We have, eh, lots of time to make up for. And you,” he leans down and runs his tongue over your pulse point, feeling it thunder against your skin, “have so much to learn.”

When the two of you text Sister Imperator with suspiciously matching illnesses the next morning, she smiles to herself. 

All in Lucifer’s plan.

[genderlessghoul]

Hey so some while ago I wrote a bit about Dew's elemental transition and him taking it well and NOT HAVING ANGST ATTACHED TO IT FOR ONCE CUZ I'M SOFT!!! (Affectionately to anyone who writes angst, I love you)

Anyway I talked a bit about Rain's summoning in that post and I wanted to write it better so I did! It's under the cut.

~1k of Dew falling in love at first sight

Dewdrop stands in front of his mirror, ceremonial cloak in hand. Anticipation and dread eat at his nerves as he stares at his own reflection. He barely recognizes what the mirror shows him now. Just a few weeks after his elemental transition, he's not yet used to this new version of himself. 

No more gills. No more fins. His silky soft white hair now a more orange blonde, blue eyes replaced with amber. Scorch marks and scars over all his once discernible Water features. 

He doesn't regret his choice. He says it loud and clear to anyone who'll listen. Water was familiar, but never home. Fire embraces him, makes him feel welcomed. That doesn't make it any easier for him to live this new change, to recognize the stranger looking at him from the other side of the mirror. He throws his cloak on with a sigh before heading out his door. Tonight, the Clergy summons its newest ghouls. Air and Water. The Water that will take his place in the band and- No. Dewdrop pushes the thought aside. He cannot, will not, resent the new ghoul simply for existing. He doesn't regret his choice.

The Fire ghoul runs into Aether, also on his way to the room where this ancient ritual will take place. As the new head of the Quintessence ghouls (by default of being now the only one), it's his job to welcome the new summons.

“You doing alright?”

He asks the nerve-wracked smaller ghoul.

“'m fine, just… nervous.”

“You can tell me what's on your mind, you know? It's kind of a big deal, what's happening tonight.”

“I just hope that-” Dewdrop pauses, not sure exactly what he's hoping for. “That we get a good one.”

Aether hums in acknowledgment and the both of them keep walking in silence, picking up Mountain on the way. The last three ghouls remaining after the events following the death of the Emeritus brothers. They make their way to the summoning chamber, where Sister Imperator and the shiny new Cardinal are already waiting, candles lit and sigils drawn on the floor.

The woman instructs them into place, around the circle of candles and explains the ceremony. He can't be bothered to pay much attention, he watches Aether pick up the cloaks for the ghouls-to-be and take place next to him. All Dew has to do is stand there and keep his mouth shut. Should be easy enough.

Imperator stands by the Cardinal as she shoves a book in his hands and reminds him of the incantations. He takes a hesitant step forward, gripping the ancient book in an iron grip that Dew can't help wondering if he'll rip the thing in half. Copia clears his throat nervously before he starts to read with a shaky voice. 

A small wind picks up in the room, slowly growing in intensity as the Cardinal reads until it turns into a tornado that takes out most of the candles around the summoning circle. He finishes the incantation and the tornado disappears, revealing two Air ghoulettes sitting in the middle of the circle, both looking just as confused as everyone else in the room.

Two?

Aether looks at Imperator, wanting confirmation before breaking into the circle. She gives a quizzical look in response and the Quintessence ghoul takes it as his unusual cue to go greet the newcomers. He offers them both a hand and gives them the two ceremonial cloaks he had with him. 

Dew watches as Aether greets them and exchanges a few words, getting them into place around the circle. Now is not the time for long winded explanations, they still have one ghoul to summon. The Fire ghoul fidgets nervously under his cloak. His heart feels like it's going to burst out of his ribcage at any moment, the anticipation slowly killing him.

The Cardinal lets out a dry chuckle while Imperator glares at him with daggers shooting out of her eyes. How do you mess up a spell that badly that you end up summoning two ghouls at once?

Copia does his best to ignore the Sister and flicks the book to another page for the next incantation. He looks up at Dew expectantly and the ghoul gives him a confused expression before he catches on.

Oh, right.

He walks around the circle and relights the extinguished candles with ease before taking his place again. The Cardinal starts to read again and Dew wonders what kind of small natural disaster he's going to conjure, this time around.

Everyone stares in equal parts of awe and confusion when the inside of the summoning circle turns into a puddle. No hurricane or tsunami, no downpour or thunderstorm. Just a puddle of stillwater. After a moment of absolutely nothing happening, the top of a head peeks out of the water, a curtain of black hair sticking to blue skin. A pair of curious amphibian eyes stare down the people in the room while the rest of the ghoul, if it even is one, stays completely submerged underwater.

Dew shoots a glance as Aether, who looks like he's at a complete loss of what to do in this new scenario. Before he even knows it, the Fire ghoul is kneeling in front of the puddle.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

A voice calls out from beneath the surface and Dew has to fight every single atom in his body not to jump in the water right then and there.

“How you feel about getting outta there, right now?”

“Water's nice.”

“We have better pools.”

The pair of eyes blinks slowly at him. Dew's face becomes incredibly hot and he convinces himself it's from having everyone in the room watching him. A webbed hand with slender fingers reaches out of the water and he takes it, pulling the new ghoul out of the puddle with effort. He takes his own ceremonial cloak off and offers it to the newcomer, covering his naked form in an attempt not to ogle him so soon after being summoned.

“I'm Dew, by the way.”

“Rain.”

Rain. The Fire ghoul repeats in his mind. Sounds like home.

[ghostchems]

the cream in cardinal copia’s coffee - cardi x f!reader

you are blessed with the task of making the new cardinal his coffee each morning and on your first day, you forget the evaporated milk.

a/n: the working title of this was "yucky cardi". this is nsfw. the cardinal has returned. blow jobs. rough sex. and more! he is nasty in this. i have not written smut in so long so bear with me! also some of this is just... silly lol. 3k words. ao3 link!

You adjust your habit in the mirror, making sure to tuck any stray hairs inside of it. Today is the first morning you will be delivering the new Cardinal’s coffee and you want to make sure you look perfect. A ghoul had delivered the news the night before, right to your door, and you couldn’t help but feel like it was your chance to show the clergy leadership how devoted you are to your beliefs. The task is an important one, given that the Cardinal is a mere week into his new position here. You are excited to welcome him and show him what sets this branch of the ministry apart from the others.

The abbey has been rife with gossip since Cardinal Copia has arrived. It’s been months since the Papal position had been vacated yet your faith never wavered, even as the uncertainty seeped into all aspects of daily life. There had been no Black Mass, no confessional, no figurehead. Just as the tension started to reach a fever pitch, the Cardinal was there with his cane that he tapped alongside him as he surveyed the halls with a silent, menacing glare. He has the blessing: the white eye bestowed upon those touched by Lucifer himself and is an accomplished member of the Clergy in his own right — all signs that point to his potential to lead.

You suck in a sharp breath, holding it deep in your chest as you try to ease your nerves. One last look at yourself in the mirror and you’re off down the hall to the kitchens. You pause at the espresso machine and fish the paper with the instructions out of your pocket: a latte with half a sugar in the raw. Shouldn’t be too hard, right? A mug is plucked off the shelf and you start with the sugar in the raw, ripping a pack in half to dump one into the bottom of the mug and to throw the other away. You set the mug below the espresso drip, making sure there are enough beans before pulling the shots. The machine starts to whir and you take the opportunity to open the fridge and stare at the milk options. Nothing was specified in the instructions. You grab whole milk, assuming it’s a safe choice and pour some into the milk frother, sealing it shut and then turning it on. The milk starts to fluff up as the shots finish pulling and the thought crosses your mind that maybe you’re too good at this. It doesn’t take long for the milk to be done frothing, taking the frother and then carefully pouring the milk into the mug.

Voila, a latte.

You let the milk settle for one second longer and then pick up the mug securely in both hands. Perfect. And now, an anxiety filled walk to The Cardinal’s office. Not much is known about him. During his arrival address he spoke only of furthering the agenda of the Morningstar. No personal anecdotes. You’ve caught glimpses of him since his arrival, a few times in the hallway and once in the courtyard, where you finally got a good look at his face — dramatic nose, sideburns and all. A serious man with a serious face is all you could think. Coming face to face with that man has your stomach in knots now but there is still that underlying feeling of excitement. You make it to his office door and give it a shy knock, making sure your other hand grips the mug.

“Entra.”

You push the door open and slowly walk into his eerie office. The bookcases are covered with dust, papers are everywhere and there’s piles of dust in each corner of the room. You’d think Sister Imperator would have taken the time to have his office cleaned prior to arrival. At least you are here now with his coffee, directions followed to a T. The Cardinal is leaned against his deck, a book opened in front of him but his eyes are focused on you. He’s dressed in a tight, red outfit, one that is more casual than the usual cassock, with a sparkling grucifx on the left of his chest. He says nothing as he reaches for the coffee. All business. You hold it out for him, his smooth leather gloves brushing against your fingers, plucking it from your hands and turning from you as he brings it to his lips. Your heart stops once he takes a sip and…

The Cardinal launches the mug across his office and it shatters against the wall. You stand there mortified, a hand clasping over your mouth from being thrown off. His head wrenches in your direction, the most harrowing anger you’ve ever seen in his fiery eyes.

“I-I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Cardinal.” Your voice is shattered, your breath trembling as more apologies spill out of you.

One of his gloved hands without warning knocks your habit off your head, grabbing you by the hair and wrenches your head back, your back tilted and true fear in your eyes as he forces you to meet his gaze. Your scalp burns from how tight his grip on your hair is and your knees wobble from the awkward position he has you in. Instinct takes over, fight or flight, your hand connecting with his cheek in a deafening slap. He releases you from his grasp and you fall onto your back as he stumbles backwards. This time you don’t say sorry. You sit up and try to catch your breath, adrenaline still pumping through you. The Cardinal rubs at his cheek, his eyes wild and glued to you.

“The coffee was that bad?”

“Evaporated milk.” He snarls, his tight leather gloves balling into fists.

“What?”

“I only drink evaporated. milk.”

All this over evaporated milk? You angrily reach into your pocket and pull out the note with instructions, waving it erratically in the air.

“Evaporated milk is not in the instructions!” You fling your arm to throw the crumpled note but it slowly drifts to the carpeted floor in front of you.

“Are you being smart with me, cretina?” There’s a strange playfulness in his voice, nestled deep in his growl. He takes a few slow steps toward you, the tension in the air rising. You blink a few times and start to inch away from him but he starts to move further in your direction. Your legs scramble beneath you to bring yourself to your feet, still startled from his advances. There’s no way he’s going to… chase you, right?

As if he could read your mind, his lips curl into a sinister grin and he bolts toward you. You nearly trip over your own feet as you take off in the opposite direction. Adrenaline is pumping through you, dodging obstacles (desk, chair, other chairs) and keeping him out of arm’s reach is only making you feel more insane. This situation is ridiculous and yet you are still terrified of him catching you, keeping your eyes forward to avoid even glancing in his direction. What the fuck is happening? You’ve never heard of any situations like this happening with previous ministry leaders. No stories, no rumors, nothing other than the Papas and Sister treating everyone with the utmost respect, with perhaps a few instances of tensions flaring — but nothing compared to whatever this is.

You round his desk again when, to your horror, the Cardinal leaps into the air, one foot landing on the seat of his chair that propels him to land two feet on top of his desk. A gasp rips from your throat as he lurches towards you, arms outstretched and fingers wiggling. He crashes into you, dragging you to the ground with him as you finally let out a scream. It all feels so — exhilarating in the most perverse way, a way that makes you feel shameful underneath all the fear. The carpet softens your impact but it still hurts, giving another shocked, pained cry after he falls on top of you. A gloved hand forcefully covers your mouth and you finally focus on him, having pinned you to the ground beneath him. The Cardinal’s nose presses against your cheek and he gives a rough growl.

“You have been quite insubordinate in your short time with this task.” His words are venomous and you can feel his spittle on your cheek. You whimper and struggle against him while he uses his body weight to pin you to the floor, his hips digging into yours to keep you in place. Something throbs against your upper thigh. Your head jerks to meet his sneering gaze, glee in his dark eyes. “You know… I have an idea of how you could make it up to me, bambina.” His words send a shiver down your spine but… but you can’t help the sudden ache between your thighs. Adrenaline is still pumping through your veins and you’re completely overwhelmed by your conflicting senses. The Cardinal’s body relaxes and his grip on you loosens, giving you a chance to break free of his hand over your mouth.

“I’ll remake your latte. I’ll get it right this time.” The panic is evident in your voice and you try to wiggle out from beneath him. He laughs —- laughs —- in your face and brushes his thumb over your soft lips, drawing a shuddered breath from your lungs.

“That won’t do, sorella, you know that.” The Cardinal purrs and pushes himself to his feet, wiping off imaginary dust from his outfit. His hard cock strains in his tight pants, nearly bursting from the seams. It’s hard to keep your eyes off of it but he tears your attention back to his gaze as he grabs you by the collar of your habit and yanks you to your knees. Your head is spinning, trying desperately to catch up with the situation. He grabs you by the chin and forces your attention thin on his face, his eyes hungry as he works his pants down with his other hand. Heat pools in your lower abdomen, pressing your thighs together as your core pulses.

“Will you obey now, sorella?” He whispers almost sweetly while his thumb presses down on your tongue. You’ve been able to hold yourself together so far but this, the taste of his leather gloves on your tongue forces a shameless groan from your mouth. The Cardinal blinks, surprised by your reaction but his lips twitch into a grin. “Oh, you will. You’ll do anything I ask, won’t you?” He removes his thumb to your dismay but he quickly replaces it with three of his gloved fingers that push far back into your mouth. Your eyes water as you gag on them and he gives a satisfied grunt. You watch as he removes them from your mouth only to use your slick to pump his cock. The Cardinal is smiling down at you, angling his hips to brush the weeping head across your cheek, drawing another moan deep from you.

“You know how to make it better.” His voice has dropped to a low rumble as he settles himself against your lips. You swallow thickly, then slowly part your lips for him, taking him into your mouth inch by inch. The Cardinal gives a hum of approval, his hand falling to rest in your hair with a far more gentle touch than you were expecting. You sink further down his length, easing your jaw and relaxing your throat until your nose is pressed against his neat pubic hair. He exhales sharply through his nose, a breath catching as you swallow around him. His cock twitches in your mouth and he gives a shallow thrust, causing you to gag. From then on, the Cardinal is relentless.

His hand knots in your hair as he fucks your face, your fingers digging into the fabric of his pants trying to hold yourself in place. Your tongue runs along the length of his cock with each thrust, his grunts and groans filling your ears. You feel so deliciously used, knees digging into the carpet and the inside of your thighs slick with arousal. The Cardinal breath starts to grow ragged, his hips stuttering as he forces your head up, meeting his gaze from beneath heavy lashes. His hazy white eye glows, the Dark One’s blessing reveling in the invocation lust, and his lips part, smeared with his black paint. You moan around his cock, nails raking down his thighs and he gives a choked growl.

“P-putana, so fucking e-eager to please.” The Cardinal hisses, tugging sharply at your hair making you whimper. “You w-want me so badly, eh, s-sorella? Sucking your Cardinal’s cock l-like a good, ah, girl.” He pulls you off of him by your hair and you stumble onto your ass again. “Don’t you? Don’t you want my cock, sorella?” He lazily strokes himself, tilting his head as he hovers over you, standing between your legs. Your heart thunders in your chest, sucking in a deep breath while your knees tremble. You know what you want to say. You want him to fuck you right here on the carpet. You want him to keep talking dirty to you. But you can’t bring yourself to speak so instead you chew on your swollen bottom lip and nod shyly.

The Cardinal has you by the hips in the blink of an eye and he flips you over so that you’re on your stomach. He hikes up your habit above the swell of your ass and toys with the hem of your panties as he presses his cock against your inner thigh.

“Ah, so wet for your Cardinal.” He hisses, his fingers grazing your slick folds. Your mouth drops open, whining as your eyes fall shut. With a surprising amount of care, the Cardinal slides your underwear down your thighs, leaving them at your knees before running his hands back up your thighs to settle them on your hips. You lean back into his touch, feeling the head of his cock against your entrance. “S-so fucking eager f-for me to take you.” He chuckles then thrusts into you without warning, burying himself to the hilt. You lurch forward, your fingers digging into the carpet, screaming out in surprise. He fills you completely, taking a moment to get used to his size while you feel him throb against your walls. “Tell me. T-tell me how badly you want this.”

“Please.” You gasp, arching your back to try and press further into him. “C-Cardinal, please.” He’s heard enough, his grip on your hips bruising as he bucks into you at a frenzied pace. His strong thighs slamming against your ass, each snap of his hips sending you forward, nearly getting fucked across the floor. You can’t stop moaning, tears streaming down your face as waves of pleasure crash over you.

He shoves your head to the floor, your cheek flush against the soft carpet, angling his hips to fuck into you even deeper. The way he moves is violent, your fingers digging into the carpet to keep yourself from collapsing. You feel your muscles start to tighten, tensing up as your legs tremble and drool starts to drip from the corner of your mouth. Cardinal… oh, Cardinal… you’re whimpering for him over and over, a stark change from the defiance you slapped him with earlier.

“S-such a fucking obedient little pup.” He hums and leans over you to press his chest against your back, his strangled breaths and moans filling your ears. The truth is, Cardinal Copia has been thinking about this — about you whimpering beneath him as he filled you — the moment he first saw you. The courtyard. The way you nearly gawked at him made his cock twitch in his cassock. He thought about what was beneath your modest habit, what sounds you make when you’re excited and needy, how your tight pussy would feel around him. He signaled a ghoul shortly thereafter to provide you with the good news and he provided the incorrect instructions himself. The Cardinal knew your type upon laying eyes on you, always so eager to follow directions, proud of your minuscule contributions to the ministry. He knew he could reduce you to this — a mess beneath him.

Your climax rips through you, burning hot currents flowing through you before collapsing beneath him as he tries to hold you upright to chase his own release. He’s so rough, so violent with you, his hips pistoning into you with such force that you’re sure your ass is going to bruise. The Cardinal is nothing more than a beast of lust in this moment, taking and taking from you until he can’t take anymore. He pulls out and ropes of cum land on your exposed, red behind. You’re frozen on the floor, heartbeat in your ears just waiting for him to make his next move, the fear starting to slowly seep back into your mind. He catches his breath behind you, fingers starting to play with your panties again before pulling them back up gingerly, trapping his cum inside you.

“Keep these on all day, sorella. That is an order.” The Cardinal purrs, giving your ass a playful slap and then rises to his feet.” You shift yourself up to your hands and knees, shakily looking over your shoulder at him. He is grinning from ear to ear, his white eye still shining. “I’ll know if you disobey.” He winks then reaches a gloved hand out to you. You don’t hesitate, taking it and allowing him to help him to your feet but you stay silent, vigilant even, in case he is going to try anything else. He gives your hand a tight squeeze once you’re to your feet and lets go, sauntering back over to his desk to pick up the book he had been reading prior to your visit.

“You’ll get my coffee 100% corretto tomorrow, si?” The Cardinal quirks a knowing brow at you, a smile still playing on his lips. You nod silently. His smile only grows and he waves his hand at you, dismissing you from his office and sinking back into his all business demeanor. You waste no time, shuffling out of the room and finally allowing yourself to breath again once the door shuts behind you.

Are you terrified of what tomorrow could bring? Yes.

Still, you can’t help but wonder how he would punish you if next time you purposefully screw up his coffee.

[easilyandromeda]

Fic Idea...

Really wanna write an anthology style Copia/oc fic about a girl being ripped into a universe where the Clergy exists and is real. Waking up on the floor of the mausoleum alone and terrified. Sister Imperator deciding to let her stay while they try to figure out how to send our dear heroine home. Copia (Cardinal timeline or Papa I can't decide yet) growing close to this person and being wracked with existential dread and terror that this person could be ripped away at any given point.

Potentially feeling it. I am aware that this is entirely self indulgence...

[im-notbean]

Random Ghoul Headcannons

Dewdrop

-despites his fire element, will go out of his way to hit anyone who calls him Sodo instead of Dewdrop

-fans are the only people he can tolerate calling him Sodo, they don't know any better

-cannot swim without feeling like hes burning due to the element transition, most of the time his own tears burn his face

-he doesn't particularly like the ministry, he likes all the papas but thats abt it really for the ministry. just really hates sister imperator (rip)

Swiss

-mostly an earth ghoul, has a mix of water and quintessence however

-is banned from cooking via all the ghoulettes and phantom who will stab him if he tries to help

-isn't actually that close with Dewdrop just overly flirtatious with him

Rain

-demi boy, more male presenting most of the time

-he has a sirens song type of singing female water ghouls have along with the water manipulation males have; no one knows how

-unlike dew water makes rain very calmed, the best swimmer out of all the ghouls

Mountain

-hes abt as all as a tree. around 6'11 or 7'1, when glamoured hes 6'6

-once u get him talking u cant shut him up, hes just talking to talk sometimes

-runs pretty hot despite complaining abt being cold all the time

-has genical dibeatic thing, type 1... most earth ghouls do but his is rlly bad :(

Phantom

-isnt the youngest in terms of hellborn years, is pretty close tho

-selective mute, also nonbinary or gender non conforming idk havent decied tbh

-him and aether arent brothers, their like distant cousins via mates (marriage)

-dreamshifter is his quintessence quirk thingy

Cirrus

-1, QUEEN. anyway: mother hen to all

-banned swiss from the kitchen first cuz he burnt rice. rice.

-really like freakishly good at crochet somehow

Cumulus

-for some reason phantom just really loves her tits. like not in a sexual way but like yk, their rlly good tits

-plus sized. dont ask y she just is

-will hit swiss with a spoon given any opportunity

Aurora

-despite her amazing voice shes really self conscious abt it, she knows that its high in the octive scale and sometimes she feels that shes overpowering the other backing vocals

-the youngest ghoul in hellborn years and summoned years

-knows like six different earth languages and will yell at the other ghouls and ghoulettes in them

-an even split between fire, quintessence, and earth ghoulette traits

[thehypnone]

It Will Wither

WC: 2k

Relationship: Dewdrop/Aether/Mountain

Tags: Elemental Transition, Coma, Resuscitation, The Surge, Major Character Death, Grief, Hurt no Comfort

Dewdrop's transition goes horribly wrong.

Notes: For the love of all that's unholy read the damn tags.

Read under the cut or on AO3.

They all knew it was a bad idea. A horrible one.

They didn’t know how horrible, though.

Only Dewdrop, Mountain and Aether were left of their pack. Zephyr got sent back to the Pit on their own request, Ifrit had followed his mate like he always had, Terzo had been ki… died.

Only Dewdrop, Mountain and Aether were left.

Their bond was fragile, compromised and put to test by all the events of the previous month. They had barely survived and just when they thought it would all get a bit better, the offer to Dewdrop was made. The offer which wasn’t one, really. What it was was an order and a threat at once, veiled in a pretty cursive font reading ‘proposition’.

Dewdrop, Mountain and Aether had screamed at each other and cried to each other for a week straight, trying to find a solution that wasn’t there, and so there they were. In a damp dungeon under the Abbey, waiting for Dewdrop to be ripped apart and put back together as someone—something—else.

“Dew, please, don’t leave us,” Mountain sobbed on his knees, face pressed into the water ghoul’s thighs where his bare legs were hanging off of the cold stone altar.

“I– I’ll try, Mounty,” he sniffled. “I’ll fight.”

“Promise me,” the earth ghoul demanded, looking up. “Promise me you’ll live.”

“Mountain–” Aether said quietly from behind him. He knew Dewdrop couldn’t make that promise.

“No! No, no, no, he’ll be okay. Right, water lily? You will be, we can’t lose you too, I can’t…” he cried, his whole body shaking. Dewdrop took a shaky breath and looked up at Aether pleadingly. The quintessence ghoul shook his head.

Dewdrop put his hands on Mountain’s head and pulled him up to look into his fresh grass colored eyes. “I promise.”

Mountain sobbed loudly again, holding onto his thighs with an iron grip, and the water ghoul looked back at Aether with a plea in his tear-filled eyes. Take him away.

He obliged, pulling Mountain up from the floor and into his arms, sending a shot of quintessence his way to calm him down. If that was even possible. Aether reached his free arm out to Dewdrop and the water ghoul took his hand, squeezing tightly. This could very well be their last goodbye and all three of them knew it.

With a single tear slipping down his cheek, Aether pulled Mountain out of the chamber and kicked the heavy door behind them.

Dewdrop was left alone in the dreadful silence of the room, but not for long. Soon enough the door opened again two people entered, Sister Imperator and a priest Dewdrop didn’t know. They didn’t even greet him, just gestured for him to lay down and take whatever it was they were about to do to him.

He obliged, well past wanting to argue, scream or cry.

When the stranger began to chant words Dewdrop didn’t recognize, when the candles burst into flames, when the fire started licking at his skin, when agonizing pain washed over him, when he started screaming… that was the last he remembered.

The news of the ritual having ended was delivered to Aether by a text message. Anger boiled in him at how lightly his pack’s despair was treated by the Clergy. Still, he peeled himself away from Mountain—who he had to knock out with his quintessence when Dewdrop’s screams carried through the corridors—and all but ran to the infirmary, where he’d been told the remaining part of his pack was.

When he burst through the door, he felt his heart crack. He’d hear it, too, if not for the raised voices of the infirmary staff and doctors running around the single occupied bed, trying their best to save the broken little ghoul laying on it. His skin was raw and he looked so small. If Aether hadn’t known any better he’d scream at the doctor currently pressing down on his chest rhythmically to stop, to be gentler, lest he break that sweet creature’s ribs.

He did scream, but with a different plea on his lips.

The quintessence ghoul fell to his knees by the bed. He knew he was taking up space someone that could actually help could take, but if… but if that was it, he couldn’t move away. Someone tried to pull him back, but Aether didn’t budge, and soon they gave up.

It was all a blur to him, begging and crying and begging again to Dewdrop’s limp body as people around him tried to make his heart work again. He doesn’t know how long it has been, it felt like days to Aether, but when he could breathe again Dewdrop was stable. That’s what they told him.

“We got him back,” someone said. “He’s stable for now.”

For now.

For. Now.

Dewdrop flatlined twice more. They got him back twice more. They told Aether he was stable for now twice more.

Neither he, nor Mountain had been with him those other two times. Not technically. The infirmary staff decided, after the first time, that they didn’t need two wailing demons on their hands as they tried to save the third one. They invested in sedating shots and male nurses strong enough to be able to inject Mountain and Aether with them once the panic set in.

Apart from that, they barely stepped away from him. They only did every other night to go sleep in his bed, that still carried a faint smell of him. It smelt more like him than he did, now. The fresh smell of a humid summer morning.

Morning dew.

The first night that they decided to spend away from Dewdrop—day four of his coma—Mountain took a piece of him with them. His horns, the beautiful twisted obsidian horns that had broken off had been laying on the bedside table like there was no value to them. Mountain grabbed them, squeezing so hard that the skin of his palms hadn’t broken only by a miracle.

Day seven of Dewdrop’s coma.

It was morning. Mountain and Aether were sulking over the dining table, sipping their respective teas. There was no warmth around them.

They’d go see Dewdrop soon, sit by him and stare at his still face—like they've been doing for the last week—as if their intense gazes would make him open his eyes. As if it would make him better.

Mountain was putting their mugs away when he heard Aether gasp, and when his head snapped to the side his legs nearly gave out under him.

Dewdrop.

He was standing in the door to the commons, leaning against the door frame, in nothing but an oversized t-shirt that once upon a time had probably belonged to one of the ghouls currently stunned to death. The now fire ghoul had a soft smile on his face, even though it looked wrong with his skin all dry and warm-toned. But he was there. Alive. Awake.

Mountain threw himself at him first, squeezing him in his arms and apologizing for the pain it was causing him at the same time. Dewdrop winced but laughed, doing his best to hug the earth ghoul back. “I’m here. I’m here, Mounty.”

Aether approached them slowly, not believing his own eyes. “W– what are you doing here?”

He was afraid that if he tried to touch Dewdrop, the illusion would dissipate. He slowly outstretched an arm and placed a hand on his back, flinching at the unexpected warmth of his skin.

But he didn’t disappear.

“I snuck out,” he shrugged.

Still in disbelief, the quintessence ghoul wrapped his own arms around both Mountain and Dewdrop, pressing his nose into the latter’s hair. He smelled differently, so differently, but under all of it it was still him. It was still Dewdrop.

And he was alive.

Aether allowed himself a smile and silently begged Lucifer for it to last. For what his medically trained mind was supplying him with to not be true.

Dewdrop ate breakfast, then they cuddled and talked. They talked about the past, about the touring, about Terzo, Ifrit and Zephyr, recalling all the best memories they shared. They laughed, all three of them. Then they ate lunch, cuddled and talked some more. Then, they ate dinner and got ready for bed. The day went by way too quickly.

Mountain and Aether nestled Dewdrop tightly between them, their arms caging him in and their noses pressed into his neck as the three of them purred as loudly as ever.

“I love you,” Dewdrop told them. “Both of you, so, so much. You know that, right?”

“Of course, droplet,” Aether replied, kissing him softly.

“We love you, too,” Mountain added before slotting his own lips against Dewdrop’s.

“I just want you to remember that,” he whispered. “You’ll be okay.”

Soon, Mountain fell asleep, then Aether, holding Dewdrop closely. He waited, fighting against sleep, holding on to the energy that was leaving him with an iron grip, just to be able to look down at the two ghouls in his arms for a bit more. Just a bit longer.

“I’m sorry about my promise, Mounty,” Dewdrop muttered into Mountain’s hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He turned to Aether and did the same, “Take care of each other, Aeth.”

Then he let sleep take him.

When they woke up again, for just a moment they thought it had all been a bad dream. Dewdrop wasn’t hot like the evening before, his skin was cold. Just like it used to be.

But then they realized his heart wasn’t beating.

The sound that had ripped out of Mountain’s mouth at the realization would haunt Aether for eternity, burned into his brain. Just like the sight of Dewdrop’s cold, lifeless body being cradled tightly in the earth ghoul’s arms as he rocked back and forth, delirious.

“He knew,” he wailed. He was right. Dewdrop did know what it had been and that there wouldn’t be a next day for him. 

“He did,” Aether confirmed. He felt empty, yet with anguish pouring off of him in waves. He couldn’t tear his tear-filled eyes away from the pale face of their dead packmate.

Dead.

The quintessence ghoul tried to calm his mind, thinking about how Dewdrop passed gently in his sleep, without pain, and in the arms of people he had loved the most, and who loved him. Always would.

But he couldn’t. Their Dewdrop was dead and there was nothing that could make it better.

They didn’t burn his body, as it was customary for fire ghouls. To them he never was one. He was their droplet, their water lily, their Dewdrop. He always would be.

They wrapped him in a soft, baby blue cloth and put him into a stone coffin crafted by Mountain himself. He looked so small in it. So wrong.

They took him to the lake. He was a freshwater ghoul, after all. They knew the lake was deep enough and he loved it so much, it couldn’t be anywhere else.

Mountain didn’t cry this time. All he did, just before they pushed the coffin into the lake, was kiss the stone over where Dewdrop’s head was inside, and whisper, “You promised.”

Aether cried. Fat tears rolling down his cheeks one by one, shoulders shaking and mouth agape, letting out sobs and pained whimpers, hand against his chest, as if he was trying to hold together the heart that had shattered into million pieces inside him. He had to, for Mountain.

The noise the water made once the coffin had rolled off the dock and into the lake was agonizing for both of them. They’d never see Dewdrop swimming, jumping out of the water and twisting his lithe body in the air before diving back in with a grin on his face again. They’d never hear him splashing that water, or any other, again.

He was gone.

They stood there, clutching their matching necklaces made of Dewdrop’s obsidian horns in their hands, and clinging tightly to each other. They stared at the, now flat, surface of the lake as the sun slowly set and day turned into night, and they wondered how much more the two of them could take.

Neither of them found an answer.

What they found, though, was something to help the two of them survive. They’d give themselves time to grieve, but then… then the Abbey would turn to dust. And everyone in it.

[cor-obscenum]

I'll violate you (in the most sensual way)

Image from Pexels, edited. Title is from "It's All Tears (Drown in this love) by HIM.

Pairing: Terzo x AFAB!reader

Summary: you're a virgin, he's experienced. You're just a Sibling of Sin, he's Papa. And both of you are EAGER for it, to open your arms and drown in lust.

Contents: 18+, smut, loss of virginity, slow and sensual foreplay, massage (reader receiving), body worship (mutual), oral sex (reader receiving), PIV sex, aftercare, pillow talk, love confessions, cardiophilia.

Word count: 3.176

Read on AO3

“Satan, please, make that end well" You thought, silently walking through the hallways of the Ministry, awash in pure nervousness. It was late at night and the hallways were almost empty, with only a few sleepy faces making their way to their quarters. You took a deep breath, trying to keep your face neutral and praying to Satan below that you wouldn't encounter Sister Imperator or Papa Nihil on the way.

You were thinking about him, as usual.

The other Siblings of Sin never talked about that, but certainly noticed the sexual tension between you and Terzo during Unholy Mass, when you were face to face and he fed you unholy communion, looking deep into your eyes and uttering “body of Lucifer”. Under the dim light of the candles, it was still noticeable how your eyes sparkled and your face blushed charmingly as he placed the wafer into your mouth. For a while, your feelings remained hidden inside your chest. For all that time, it was a silent pining. You couldn't help but feel jealous when watching him give attention to other Siblings, flirt with his ghouls and do that one gesture during “Cirice” - that damn gesture was the worst. He would look deep into the eyes of a girl from the crowd and place her hand against his chest, right upon his heart. What wouldn't you give to be that girl: having his whole attention to you only, feeling his heart beating and, to top it off, earning a kiss to your knuckles.

You stopped for a short moment to pick up your phone and check your messages. You took a last look at the directions to the papal suite, only to be certain, and took a deep breath.

You remember, with a little embarrassment, the first time he talked to you outside of Mass: he said he liked your shoes, you blushed like a tomato and fumbled with words. Then another day, he said good morning and complimented your hair. The interactions were becoming more and more frequent, and soon you found yourselves strolling through Primo's garden, talking about your lives. And then one night he kissed your cheek goodnight. And then one day he gave you flowers. And then there's that afternoon, when he invited you to his Papal suite for a glass of wine. You accepted, and then a mix of dread and excitement took over you; there was going to be sex, you had no doubt about it. But it was going to be your first time. Like, ever.

Your mind was a chaos of reminiscences, fantasies and expectations as you kept walking, getting closer to the destination. You could feel your heart rate increasing with the anxiety.

Vittorio “Terzo” Emeritus. That was certainly a name for a Papa, you thought. Could a guy named Joe or Jeff become Papa? Very unlikely, in your opinion. And neither would a guy who wasn't as good-looking and charismatic as him.

And finally, you arrived at your destination. Two tall, beautifully ornate doors, like a bodice ready to be ripped. You knocked three times, heart pounding in your chest, and awaited.

After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, the doors finally opened, and in front of you were two mismatched eyes - one green, one white - a full head of black hair slicked back, a face stripped out of its usual paint with wrinkles denouncing its age (which were so sexy to you) and a wide grin. That smile, that damn smile.

- Buona sera. - Terzo greeted you, his voice husky. - It's a pleasure to see you. Please, come in.

- Thank you, Papa. - you muttered.

You explored the room with your eyes, admiring the beautiful decorations and furniture to keep your mind distracted from the nervousness you felt. Terzo closed the doors and picked up a bottle of wine and two glasses from the mini fridge, approaching you with an affable smile.

- Would you care for a drink? - he offered. - This is a nice Cabernet Sauvignon from Chile. 2013 harvest.

- Yes, please. - you took a glass from his hand.

A few minutes of small talk and timid sips of wine ensued. Your eyes studied the figure that sat right next to you on the small sofa in front of the bed. Black shirt, carefully unbuttoned revealing a bit of hairy chest. Hair slicked back. Timely smiles and laughs. That blasè attitude that drove you crazy. Oh, Terzo, sweet, sexy, commanding, cheeky, annoying Terzo. Why did he do that to you?

Then, the subject of, well, matters of the heart came to the conversation.

- Eh, Terzo, may I ask you something… Personal? - you asked.

- Sure, go ahead.

- Are you dating someone?

He chuckled at the question, earning an anxious frown from you.

- Well, if I was dating someone, I wouldn't have invited you over. - he replied. - I want to get to know you better.

You didn't reply, simply taking a deep breath. That answer tranquilized you a little, but wasn't enough to make you completely calm.

- Now if you don't mind, may I ask you a personal question now? - he asked.

- Sure…

- Tell me, has it been a long time since you got, well, intimate with someone?

You froze, blushing.

- Eh, well, it's a little complicated… - you replied nervously.

Silence. Awkward silence.

- Actually, I'm… A virgin. - you finally confessed, embarrassed.

- Oh, I see. - Terzo replied calmly.

Once again, silence. Awkward silence.

- You know, everything in our lives has its first time. - he broke the silence with a soft tone. - And when it comes to the matters of the heart and flesh, it has to happen when we feel ready for it.

- Yes, but in that case… Isn't it, eh, embarrassing that I haven't done it yet? - you asked.

- Not at all. - he replied. - As I said, it happens when you're ready.

Another interim of silence. Terzo looked deep into your eyes before getting really close, until his lips brushed your ear.

- And do you feel ready for it now? - he whispered, his voice deep and husky, sending goosebumps all over your skin.

- Yes… I'm ready. - you gasped out.

Both hearts were beating so hard inside your rib cages that your heartbeats were the only sound that could be heard in the room, along with the heavy breathing that came in and out of your nostrils.

Terzo placed a gloved hand on your shoulder, looking at you with a friendly smile.

- We don't have to do anything you don't want to, okay? - the Pope said softly, cupping your flushed, almost feverish face with the other hand. - Only when you're ready...

That said, he began to lightly knead your shoulder, probing your tension.

- You seem a little nervous... - he commented. - May I help you relax a little?

- Okay, but take it easy, please... - you replied, out of breath.

- It's just a massage. - he chuckled. - Nothing overly sexual yet, unless you really want it…

He opened a drawer and picked up a bottle of massage oil before helping you remove your habit and veil until you were only in your bra and underwear. You laid down on your stomach and closed your eyes, feeling his warm, oiled hands first knead between your shoulder blades, loosening the stiff muscles. You let out a sigh, enjoying the touch. Finally he was touching you, fulfilling your fantasies. His hands then skipped the area occupied by the band of your bra and moved to your lower back, where they kneaded getting dangerously close to your hips and ass. Damn. Arousal started to creep up in your lower belly, and you felt the first drops of wetness in your underwear.

- All done, that wasn't so bad, was it? - Terzo said, patting your back. - Now lie on your back.

You turned around, exposing your torso to him, having shaken off your shyness and swapping it for pure lust. Your desire spoke louder. You wanted his hands, his lips, his everything on your skin.

Terzo kissed your belly button sweetly, his lips easily sinking into the soft flesh. You felt his warm breath against your skin, which sent a shiver down your spine. Yes, yes, yes, it was finally happening, you thought. He nuzzled and kissed from your stomach upwards, until reaching the band of your bra, and pulled away slightly to face you.

- May I? - he asked politely.

- Yes, please…

His hands slid down your back to unclasp your bra and he removed it slowly, exposing your breasts. He cupped them with his hands, studying them, kneading the soft flesh while teasing the erect nubs of your nipples with his thumbs.

Your first moan escaped, spontaneously, as he delicately grazed the skin of your areola with his lips and planted a few kisses before latching on and sucking gently. The next moans came right after, as his tongue played with the hard nub in circles. His warm mouth felt like velvet against your nipple. You tangled your hands on his hair as he worked his way to the other nipple, repeating the operation. The arousal in your crotch increased the longer he spent sucking, licking and kissing.

He trailed kisses down your stomach until the band of your underwear, pulling it down with his teeth and uncovering your sex, already so wet and burning with arousal. But he had to ask for your permission first.

- May I?

- Yes, yes…

He pulled away for you to remove your underwear and spread your legs open, exposing your awaiting cunt. He kissed the inside of your thighs, trailing up to your labia, which he first grazed softly with his lips, teasing you with his warm breath. Then he finally tasted your juices, parting the folds with his tongue, licking his way up to your clit and stimulating it more vigorously. Your breathy moans were almost turning into screams as he pleasured you with his deft tongue, eagerly lapping at your clit. Your hands still tangled in his hair, you gasped out a string of yes, yes, yes, signaling your pleasure as the first orgasm approached. And then it came, naturally but violently, rocking your whole body.

- I'm c-cumming! - you shouted, gasping for air, as you climaxed.

Climax hit you like a bell curve, finally tapering down and being replaced by the most blissful post-orgasm glow. Terzo pulled away upon hearing your breathing slow down and gave you time to recover before going for another round, petting your hair as he waited.

- Now that I've touched your body, would you like to explore mine? - he asked with a smirk.

- Oh, yes, please. - you basically begged.

He started unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his bare torso, and you felt your breath catch in your lungs as you saw that gorgeous body being slowly exposed before you.

- Your turn. - he muttered, parting the shirt open to put his torso on display. - Touch me as you please.

Passively, he watched you examine his body for a long time, first with your eyes, then with your hands. A little awkwardly, you placed your hands flat on his chest and took a deep breath.

He was real, you thought. That man, whom you had envisioned taking off his shirt so many times in your fantasies, seemed more real than ever under your touch.

Terzo smiled and gently took your hands, guiding them slowly over his torso, letting you feel every detail of his body. The warmth, the fast heartbeat, the movements of his breathing, the hair covering his chest, the tempting nubs of his erect nipples, the softness of his stomach - you were in pure ecstasy with all those sensations.

You couldn't take it anymore. Without hesitation, you pressed your lips against Terzo's, kissing him passionately before trailing kisses down his neck. You closed your eyes and focused on the sensations of every inch of skin you ran with your lips and tongue over. The relief of his Adam's apple, the accelerated pulse of his carotid artery, the sound of his breathing, which was also beginning to accelerate, and his scent, that intoxicating scent that you never got tired of inhaling with each intake of breath.

There it was: that chest sculpted by Satan himself, bare and heaving, right before your eyes. You buried your face in it, gently nuzzling it with your cheek and relishing in the feeling of the soft hairs that adorned his skin. You pressed your ear against his sternum and heard his heartbeat, so fast that it seemed to want to break through his rib cage. Thumpthumpthump. That was music to your ears. You let out a sigh as you listened to his heart pumping, signaling how excited he was. After a few seconds of relishing in that sweet little sound, you pulled away to give attention to another pretty thing on his chest.

His perky, perfect nipple. You wrapped your lips around the dark pink areola and tasted it, running your tongue eagerly over the delicate, soft flesh, eliciting breathy moans from the raven-haired man. And then you latched on, sucking greedily like a hungry baby.

- Ow… Take it easy, bebè, or you'll hurt me. I only have two of these - Terzo said with a giggle.

You pulled away a little startled, but Terzo's serene expression reassured you. You moved to the other nipple, this time sucking more gently. You worked your tongue around the nub while your hand caressed below his pec, feeling the Pope's fast, excited heartbeat. Terzo cooed and moaned softly, his hand petting your hair as if saying “good girl”.

- Mmm, you really do know how to turn a Papa on, even though it's your first time. - he praised you between moans.

After enjoying his nipples, you moved down to his belly, which you kissed and nuzzled with your cheek, relishing in the soft, hairy skin. He let out a sigh as he felt your warm mouth trail wet, sloppy kisses all over his stomach, lingering on his bellybutton and happy trail, until reaching the band of his pants. Now, it was your turn to ask for permission.

- May I? - you asked, grabbing the zipper on the fly.

- Thy will be done! - Terzo replied with excitement.

You opened the zipper and pulled down his pants, your hand moving to feel up his erect cock trapped in the underwear while looking up to face Terzo. He let himself be felt over the fabric, looking into your eyes and giving you his terrible smirk.

- Like what you feel? - he asked smugly.

- Oh, yes… I want this cock inside me.

- Really? Are you sure about that?

- I've never been more sure in my life.

- Thy will be done, then!

You laid down on the bed and spread your legs open, inviting him, while he finished undressing and grabbed the bottle of lube. He squeezed a generous amount of lube on his cock, lathering it on the gel, and finally came close to you.

- Is missionary position okay? - he asked breathily.

- It's fine… I just want your cock inside me. - you replied.

- Very well, dolcezza.

He first started fingering your cunt, stretching the walls gently, probing your reactions. Your moans were like a green light, and he proceeded to penetrate with his cock, filling up your awaiting hole. You let out a loud gasp as you felt the girth and pulse of his cock inside you and he started thrusting, gradually increasing the tempo. His face close to your ear, you could hear his breathing increasing and him moaning softly. Yes, yes, yes, you moaned. It was finally happening, and it felt so good.

You dragged your nails up and down Terzo's back, and he hissed with the sensation - it hurt, but it hurt deliciously. Gasps and moans filled the air, hearts pounding, pleasure running all over your bodies like an electric current. Each nerve ending in your bodies was like a bare wire. You wanted each other so badly, so badly.

- I'm gonna cum! - Terzo announced as he felt the orgasm approach. However, your climax wasn't picking up at the same pace as his.

- Can you wait a little longer for me to cum? - you asked between gasps.

- Sure, dolcezza…

You felt Terzo's load spurt from his cock inside you, but he kept thrusting until you came. Finally, it came like a bell curve, and you announced it with a loud moan as it hit its peak.

- I came… - you gasped out as post-orgasm glow fell upon you.

Terzo pulled away and laid down on your side, kissing you softly. He patted his chest for you to rest your head and you followed through, listening as his fast heartbeat slowed down to a normal pace. Thumpthumpthump. The most beautiful music in the world.

Terzo allowed you to take a few minutes to bask in post-coital glow before breaking the silence:

- You wanna hear a secret? - He whispered.

- Mm-hm.

- I love you so much, dolcezza. - his fingers ran through your hair. - I love you so much it hurts.

Love... That word, on that fateful moment flooded your brain with oxytocin amidst the violent passion that dominated your being. It was happening: Terzo was confessing his feelings for you. You felt so loved, so welcomed and so accepted, that the emotion brought a tear to your eyes, which ran down your face and fell on Terzo's skin.

- Amore, what's wrong? - he asked, concern in his voice.

You didn't know how to respond. It was a contradictory emotion: joy and pain at the same time. Your world was turned upside down. You were used to being in the position of admirer, a face in the crowd, but in the end Terzo chose you. Like the girl he chose during “Cirice”. You were that girl.

- Tell me, love. - the Pope insisted with a sweet voice, outlining your face with his fingers. - Are you worried about something? Is it because of what the other Siblings of Sin will think? We can work it out.

- It's not that, Terzo, it's just that… I didn't expect you to actually love me.

- Well, it may take a while for you to come to terms with that. But I assure you that my love for you is true. - he planted a kiss on your head.

You wondered if Terzo was being sincere or manipulating you. But in fact, the former was happening. Terzo liked your company, and his heart always found peace when he was with you. You were his safe haven amidst the chaos that was his busy routine as Papa Emeritus, combined with his family dramas with his brothers and his father.

- You're safe here with me, silly. There's no need to be afraid. - Terzo finished, running his fingers through your hair.

You snuggled back into Terzo's chest and closed your eyes, focusing on the sounds his body was making. The steady, gentle rhythm of his heartbeat calmed you; it was as if each beat said "I'm here, I'm here" right in your ears. The air coming in and out of his lungs was like the sea crashing against the shore, melodious and deep.

Taglist: @boomerangjr @runscold-runsdeep @anamelessfool

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

AS MY TREAT I WANT THE MOST SILLY, GOOFY AAA HCS OF THE PAPA'S.

Like idk Copia used to have to wear earplugs because Terzo snores so loudly it's literally obnoxious or something like that.

“aww my middle finger likes you”

❤︎ synopsis — this is pure bullshittery and crack in its finest form with the papas. they can be a little crazy at times

pairing: all papa emeritus’ x gn!reader (can be platonic or romantic)

theme: crack ✦ , fluff ✿ (if you squint)

a/n: this is a toast to my bestie for being an absolute chad. i was high making these, enjoy.

cw: terzo is a warning enough on his own. that’s it.

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➵ papa primo

he’s the oldest so he constantly has to deal with the shit from his psychopathic brothers

like— primo is basically THE mom friend, except he’s the mom for moe, larry and curly over here

(moe, larry and curly being secondo, terzo and copia)

he constantly had to hold back secondo from beating the shit out of terzo because terzo made fun of him for being bald

“I’M GONNA RIP OFF YOUR WEAVE—“ “SECONDO NO—“

bro unironically listens to weezer

like full out busting down a just dance move to this music

you once caught him dancing to it, and he stood there frozen like the man emoji

he told you to never speak of it again and you just nodded, trying to plague your mind of that horrendous image

primo cannot cook for shit too btw

you were once out and asked him to make something before you got home to the ministry

the minute you walked in the door, the kitchen stove was on fire and all of primo’s ghouls were running around and screaming in infernal about the fire

meanwhile, primo stood there not knowing what to do, looking like the man emoji AGAIN

it’s basically his trademark at this point

“…. primo what the absolute fuck—“ “it wasn’t me i swear.”

while primo’s ghouls were still learning english, he once said “fuck you” to you in a very sarcastic way

but the ghouls thought it was how humans said “hello” in english

so they went around to the other siblings of sin, and sister imperator saying “fuck you” to them while leaving all those poor people offended and dumbfounded

you smacked the back of his head after that and forced him to apologize to his ghouls and to the siblings of sin (plus imperator of course)

and he gave the ghouls extra scritches too

primo also has the dad sneeze

like he can send another universe to the next tomorrow with his goofy ass sneeze

he once sneezed so loud he scared copia and caused him to bang his head on the wall

it was kinda funny tbh

anyways yeah note to self stay 10000 feet away from primo if he’s on the verge of sneezing

it’ll save your life

┅✦┅

➵ papa secondo

secondo has two moods

“oh my satan you’re all so stupid i literally hate you all” and “tee hee i’m a girly girl”

like ??? what’s this guy on???

this guy has the sass of a high school history teacher

like secondo’s being so deadass about whatever he’s saying but he’s always fucking saying it like—

“c’mon now, you literally have the style of a hairless roach 💅”

it confuses you a lot of the time, really

secondo has his moments where he’s sweet, but for the most part he’s pulling up the middle finger to everyone he sees

it’s a habit

someone could say hi to him in the nicest way possible and he’ll just grumble and flip them off

it’s not even that he’s trying to be mean, it’s a habit (a very bad habit)

you once got tired of it and smacked his hand, when he flipped you off. so it’s safe to say he no longer does it

at least to you

secondo is an absolute menace to his brothers

with primo he’s chill because he’s the eldest, but with the younger two he’s got no chill

definitely made copia cry at some point during his younger years

he later got his ass chewed out by you and primo, because no one makes copia cry

secondo’s literally so bossy it’s kinda funny

he’s always one flip flop away from smacking someone every time someone pisses him off

him and terzo are BEEFING all the time

and it’s over the stupidest shit too

“you’re stupid.” “well, you’re face is stupid” “you’re both stupid, end of the discussion.”

you once switched out all of his skull face paint for a pink barbie pallet

so secondo was walking around lookin’ like hello kitty emeritus and everyone was trying so hard not to laugh

even his ghouls were struggling too

“… secondo—“ “not. another. word.”

┅✦┅

➵ papa terzo

bro’s the fuckin’ definition of fruity

you thought secondo was girly pop?? wait ‘till you see terzo, he’s fucking extravagant

will literally show up in the grocery store lookin’ like a character ripped straight from criminal minds

like— he has to make a show EVERYWHERE he goes. he likes to stand out

terzo is also the type of man to wear skirts and dresses because he knows he’s hot shit and he devours every fit he puts together

he shows off that waist frfr

“… terzo what the fuck—“ “shut up you know i’m sexy and i’m going to show it.”

if you wear skirts or dresses he’ll definitely ask to borrow them

he definitely passed down his fruitiness to copia

and to his ghouls

he scams kids on adopt me and has a good laugh every time because he likes to see people get mad at him since he stole their hella expensive pet from them

primo told him to quit it because what kind of satanic pope scams poor little children on a roblox game?

as stylish as terzo is, he cannot do his hair and makeup to save his life

he’ll usually ask you to do it for him wherever he has to perform or do public events, which is why his face paint is simple compared to secondo and primo

it gives you two bonding time though and it’s cute

he once watched the pinkie pie smile hd video and was traumatized for a few days

like he straight up locked himself in his room and would not come out unless you convinced him to do so

during an after party after a concert ritual, he got so wasted and almost kissed omega

like you had to PRY this man off of the poor ghoul, while omega stood there unaffected (hehe tall buff demon boy)

terzo is the shortest emeritus and none of his brothers will let him live it down

ESPECIALLY copia, since he’s younger than him

terzo almost kicked him in the nuts because of that

but that definitely was a stab to his already massive ego

you reassured him that there’s nothing wrong with his height even though you found some of the jokes his brothers made funny

live laugh love terzo

┅✦┅

➵ papa copia

copia doesn’t know what he’s doing half of the time

like he’s just given a mic and he just wings a performance while the ghouls on stage are fucking around and going absolutely feral

out of all the papas, copia legitimately treats his ghouls like his own kids

he feels like he’s getting more grey hairs every time he has to stop swiss from fucking his own guitar, or sodo and phantom from fighting about cheese sticks

you sometimes help copia do ghoul-sitting and it’s just chaos. you’re literally their second parent

copia and you = parent duo for the era iv ghouls

he unironically owns a lot of funko pops

and he keeps the one of himself on a special pedestal in a glass case for safe keeping

though secondo almost once knocked over the case and he was three seconds away from smiting a bitch

you once were looking for copia because you wanted to ask him something and you found him in a ritual room

except the ritual was that he surrounded himself with a bunch of rat plushies and he was on his knees in front of a picture of a rat with a tiny crown

you were so confused, and he refuses to acknowledge what that was

“…. copia i—“ “you didn’t see anything.”

he fucking washes himself with dish soap and laundry detergent

this man is going around smelling like dawn dish soap and it’s so weird

it’s not that it even smells bad??? it just smells so interesting and strong you swear you’re in a fever dream

copia is an avid mitski fan

definitely cried his eyes out like a little bitch when he first listened to “the land is inhospitable and so are we” because he couldn’t get over how sad “my love mine all mine was”

radiates theater kid energy

but like— the kind of theater kid that is just passionate about theater and is very giddy when people ask about it

when he started his first meeting as papa he got so nervous that he straight up started the meeting with the word “mushroom”

like it’s so random ??? but it made the ghouls and you giggle so it somewhat worked out ??

copia is a little silly

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[jade0716]

Manorian Babies

1. Asterin Rhiannon Crochan-Blackbeak, Heir to the Witch Kingdom

Hair: Silvery White

Eye color: Sapphire flexed with gold

Complexion: Alabaster

Powers: Raw Magic. Her favorite is the wind as she often feels it sing to her and likes to sing back. Asterin does not have iron teeth as she takes primarily after her mother’s Crochan side. Due to her father’s heritage she can access more magic than any other Crochan or witch in history. Though it took years for her powers to fully develop. For many she only had the wind.

Fav parent: Asterin is an absolute daddy’s girl. She often will use her raw magic to open a portal so they can discuss books he recommends. He gives her dancing lessons and teaches her about court intrigue. As a child she refused to leave his side and would throw a fit when he left for council meetings, often resulting in him taking her with him. Even though she is closer with her father she respects her mother and often shadows her in her duties. When Asterin was born her mother refused to leave her side for weeks, not trusting anyone but her father to properly look after her.

Personality: Unlike her sister, she enjoys the mundane tasks of ruling a kingdom. Because of her relationship with her father she often spent time in council meetings and learned the ways of the court at a young age. If she had it her way she’d spend every day in the library learning the history of the witches and Erelia. Even though she is not heir to Adarlan she thinks it imperative to learn its history as well. She often spars with her brother over this, who reminds her with a smile than she cannot be heir to two kingdoms. She doesn’t mind attending council meetings as she feels she has a responsibility to uphold and that she should be involved in all decisions regarding the witches. She is very tightly wound like her mother and often doesn’t slow down and soak in the moment. She doesn’t enjoy frivolous parties but she does enjoy ballroom dancing like her father taught her. Her sister and her clash as Asterin is often nagging Lothian for her constant outlandishness and “lack of direction”. Asterin is known across Erelia as the only beauty to rival that of her mother. She often has suitors requesting her hand but she rejects the notion saying that she is far too busy with important matters of the kingdom. This makes Manon smile and Dorian eternally happy as it keeps people’s paws off his first girl.

2. Lothian Sorscha Havilliard Crochan-Blackbeak , Leader of the Adarlan/Wastes Ariel legion and second in command to Asterin

Hair: Raven Black

Eye Color: Burnt Gold

Complexion: Alabaster

Power: Lothian does not have any raw magic as she takes after her mother’s Ironteeth (valg) heritage primarily. When her iron teeth began to come in at 12 she had never been so happy. She spends most of her time in the Ferian gap training the Wyverns and excels in hand to hand combat, only rivaled by her brother.

Fav Parent: Lothian often clashes heads with her mother even though they are best friends. Manon taught her how to fly and fight at a young age. Often her and her mother bicker and her father has to step in. He just laughs at them knowing how stubborn they both are. Lothian has Dorian’s penchant for debauchery and often sneaks off to pubs and pleasure houses. She thinks her father doesn’t notice but secretly he sends guards to trail after her just in case.

Personality: Lothian spends time flying between both Adarlan and the witch kingdom. She spends most of her days training the aerial legion, but at night she indulges in the “substances” the rukin brought from the southern continent. She is a wild and free spirit who enjoys not having a kingdom to rule. She has a friendship with the wildlings in the Fang as their spirits are akin to one another. Her and her sister clash but they love each other dearly. Lothian once threatened to rip the insides out of a boy who pulled her sister’s hair when they were younger. Her and her brother are incredibly close as they are both enjoy a bit of reverly. Often her brother encourages her to “break the rules for him”.

3. Dorian Gavin Havilliard |||, Heir to Adarlan and a rare Crochan prince

Hair: Black hair with a Silvery White strip

Eye color: Sapphire

Complexion: Golden Tan

Magic: Raw Magic. It is easier for Dorian to access his magic than his sister Asterin, much to her dismay. His favorite is ice, like his father. His magic materialized at a young age.

Fav parent: Dorian was attached at the hip to Manon as a child. A total mama’s boy. Being the youngest and only boy, Manon absolutely babies him (though she will not admit it) as she never imagined they’d have a boy. When he was born, the witches held a celebration to honor the birth of a rare Crochan prince, even though he was to inherit Adarlan. As a child he would often tag along with Manon on her morning rides with Abraxos and enjoyed feeding the Wyvern flowers. Being a rare Crochan prince, he often spent time with Glennis hearing stories of his grandfather Tristan and how he upheld his role as prince. Dorian however loves and respects his father and sees him as a role model for the type of king he wants to be. Dorian looks mostly like his father aside from a strip of silvery white hair he was born with.

Personality: Dorian enjoys pass times such as combat and sword fighting but also reads books on books on books. He enjoys war strategy and often plays games of chess with his father that turn much too competitive. Dorian however hates dancing and would rather poke his eyes out than participate in lessons. Often he elects to go on a morning run and enjoys winking at all the ladies who swoon as he runs by. However his real reason for the run is to sneak a peak at Sitha, Yrene and Chaol’s third daughter. Though he may act the part of a rake he has been hopelessly in love with her since they met. She is however 5 years his senior and never allows him to forget that. When he was younger and would wallow to his father, he would say “age is but a number” and wink at his mother. Dorian aspires to have a love like his parents. He is extremely close with both his sisters in totally different ways. While he appeals to Lothian’s trouble maker side and encourages her “bad behavior”, he understands the pressures and responsibilities felt by his sister Asterin and they often vent to each other about the stresses of their respective kingdoms. Growing up he was the neutral party between them and often tried to act as moderator in their arguments.