#which Terzo HATES

[ghcstcd]

I think, in resurrection au, Swiss would totally mess with Terzo.

[ix-c-999]

Okay so one thing that is going to be true in my version of the Ghost universe is that "Omega Ghoul" and "Alpha Ghoul" are titles instead of identities so that all the Papas' Omega Ghouls/Alpha Ghouls have been different people

[cityofmeliora]

notes / thoughts on Terzo's characterization (Terzo is so disappointed and depressed and i love him)

a few weeks ago i saw this post from slavghoul which has snippets of TF describing the Papas. it includes this quote:

“He represents this frustrated old guy who hates everyone, especially himself. But despite his wounds and his darkness, he has a sense of humour and is endearing, like most of my heroes. The late actor Christopher Lee was an inspiration to me. In many ways, he is Papa.” (Metallian 7/2015)

i thought this quote was really interesting because i'd never seen anyone talking about that side of Terzo before. Terzo hating "everyone, especially himself" felt at odds with the charming personality he typically displayed. i wanted to know how that developed and where his "wounds and darkness" came from. so i did some digging for quotes on Terzo's history and characterization. here are my notes + thoughts:

something that came up again and again in my research is that he is actually quite antisocial when he's not performing. it seems like he didn't want people to know anything about him past his stage persona.

TOUR MANAGER: No one in the crew really gets to see or speak to Papa, ever. Only Anna and myself have access. He is not in the building and then he'll just be there, just for show time. The only thing you really need to know about Papa is what you see of him on stage. Ghost - The Devil's Hands (Documentary) (2017)

he almost never interacted with any of the nameless ghouls or the tour crew. in fact, he really went out of his way to avoid them. he traveled separately, would appear right before the start of a show, and then he would disappear as soon as it ended. in "The Devil's Hands", it showed they sometimes had trouble locating him when he was needed.

With this new era, can you introduce Papa Emeritus III? NAMELESS GHOUL: I don't know him very well yet. We haven't really done our mileage with him, so I am sure that we will find out. But he seems nice. He seems okay. Obviously, he's very close relatives with Papa number two, who was a little bit of a hmm. I'm sure that he isn't like, completely different, but we'll find out. He's a bit of a recluse, and he sort of travels on his own. And he sort of appears when we're due onstage and then he disappears when we're offstage. So yeah, I guess we have a little bit of a social disconnect there, but I don't see a big problem with that. I mean he seems to be doing well on his own, and I don't know if he has a little harem somewhere that occupies his time offstage, I guess. I'm assuming that. Loud TV (July 2015)

INTERVIEWER: How has it been working with the third Papa? How is he fitting into the group? NAMELESS GHOUL: We like him, actually. He seems to be quite nice. Obviously, we haven't really done our "miles" with him yet, so we don't know him that well. And he doesn't travel with us- he sort of goes separately everywhere, and he appears just before the show and then he just disappears. So we haven't really had the time to sort of fully get to know him. But overall, he seems quite a joyful chap. Metal Injection (September 2015)

predictably, his bandmates did not know him very well. but they always remarked that they liked him and that he seemed like a nice, chill guy. (they also assumed he had a harem that he spent time with when he wasn't performing, which is probably not true, considering how much effort he put into avoiding people whenever possible.)

NAMELESS GHOUL: We don't really socialize with Papa, so… But he seems nice! But he's very occupied in his harem. [...] He's a little bit cooler. He seems to be the nicer of the two brothers --I don't know if there are two-- but he seems to have, I don't know, a kinder mother, probably, or something that makes him slightly.. INTERVIEWER: A little different. NAMELESS GHOUL: Yeah, he's a little bit different. AMBY (October 2015)

i don't think his charming, pleasant demeanor was just an act, though. i think it did come from a genuine part of himself... he wasn't always an antisocial recluse.

before he became Papa, he was a cardinal in Krakow, Poland. Bishop Necropolitus Cracoviensis (the character representing Zbigniew Bielak, the artist who does the album art for Ghost) characterized younger Terzo as having enthusiasm in all his endeavors. he was always a very devoted member of the clergy who had big dreams of progress and modernization for the Ministry and the world. he had a strong interest in Futurist art and philosophy.

Bp. Necropolitus Cracoviensis remembers: "...our relationship goes a long way back to the times before his papacy, that is when he was still a cardinal in my hometown, in Cracovia...(...) Although we had our share of juvenile recklessness - be it indulging his beloved cream pies - allegedly verging on six hundred sixty six portions a year but that must be a rumor I believe, or wild parties at the attic of seminary school (laughs) - even in his formative years, he remained a focused man of vision, looking far into the future, always addressing his people's needs and longings to keep our church together in those turbulent, rapidly changing times (...) there were so many temptations to syndicate among our good people (...) (...) We would sit down to studying exciting Futurist manifestos, sketched the blueprints of utopian metropoles, spiked with shiny skyscrapers stabbing at the heavens belly... Wantonly swollen zeppelins would to carry our gospel of indulgence to the farthest corners of the globe to summon and enslave. (...) Forged in nostalgia of steam and fire, this brave new world of ambition, vice, lust and greed - all so inherent to the enlightened modernity, was always with him through all these years. And it is now - when our church continues to grow stronger and wealthier under wise reign of Papa Emeritus III - that these visions may finally be witnessed and embraced in the preachings of 'Meliora' - his most contemporary and humane Encyclical." (https://www.facebook.com/thebandghost/posts/994031900615606)

those core values of ambition, vice, lust, and greed stayed with him when he became Papa. though he had a revolutionary spirit, he's actually described as "less rebellious" in Metal Myths. Terzo took his job as Papa very seriously, and he cared about being successful and achieving his goals. while he and Secondo certainly had vice, lust, and greed in common, it was Terzo's ambition that truly set him apart.

"It felt like the goal was to take Papa II's sense of modernity and remove the recklessness." Metal Myths: Ghost Pt. 2 (April 2022)

How would you describe the personality of Papa Emeritus III compared to his predecessors? NAMELESS GHOUL: "First of all, Papa Emeritus III is an entertainer! He loves projectors, he loves the public, and he loves success. The first Papa Emeritus was someone very rigid, very strict, and very solemn. A real son of a bitch! (laughs) To be honest, we don’t miss him at all! Papa Emeritus II was a pervert a little bit sadistic, and, in hindsight, I think he wasn’t very at ease on stage. He wasn’t a showman, unlike Papa Emeritus III! Him, he’s the guide we missed to rise up the quality of our shows, to reach the step above and communicate with our fans." (MyRock #44 (2017) translated from French by @ a-wandering-ghoulette)

unfortunately, his ambition eventually led him to become disillusioned and depressed.

Terzo looked forward to becoming Papa. he worked so hard for it his whole life, only to be confronted with the realization that his time as Papa --and therefore his achievements-- would be limited.

he was a nice guy, but he was also was egotistical. he was a showman and an intellectual, and he thought very highly of himself.

NAMELESS GHOUL: He's a little bit more chill. But obviously, all the Papas are definitely pompous assholes. INTERVIEWER: That's part of the job. SPECIAL GHOUL: That's one of the criterias, the prerequisites, that you have to be this sort of flamboyant diva, know-all, show-off. Metal Injection (September 2015)

his self-hatred came from his inability to be the person he wanted to be. it's not that he felt like he couldn't measure up, it's that he felt like he wasn't allowed to express his full potential. Terzo's mindset was "i know i'm good enough. and i could prove it if they would just let me." but he wasn't really in charge, and his vision was at odds with the goals of Sister Imperator.

Terzo felt so stifled, it makes sense that he became a "frustrated old guy who hates everyone, especially himself."

and i think this is the reason for the paradox of him having a kind, charming personality onstage and being unsociable offstage. he still gave it his all. he did the best he could with the time and resources he was allowed. that zealous man of the people was still in there somewhere. but he felt betrayed by the clergy, the organization he dedicated his life to. his career ended up being unfulfilling and he was ultimately really bitter about the way things turned out.

he was good. he never got to be great.

[cowbell-ghuleh]

More Plushia nonsense.

Copia & Terzo managed to trap the little hell spawn unfortunately Secondo doesn't quite understand the gravity of the situation.

Another one of my stupid rough comics. Proper finished artwork is in the works but I've been a bit busy this week!

The interviews and other canon stuff from the Infestissumam heavily implies Secondo is quite cruel to his ghouls and they hate him which inspired this!

Links to the other "plusia series" artwork below the cut

[gravehags]

at the altar of venus

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

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: body worship babyyyy, self-consciousness, body issues, handjobs, fingering, crying, possessiveness, two fools in love and lust, two fools being gross and making each other laugh

Words: 4,251

Summary: When you watch your beloved turn and turn in front of that mirror, you know something is off. Lucky for him, you have much to say on the matter.

a/n: I JUST THINK HANDSOME OLD MAN APPRECIATION TIME with yknow. a side of total filth and desperate desire.

~~~

What a day.

You wiggle your nude body in Copia’s soft sheets, nuzzle into your pillow and look across the room. Your lover is standing before the full-length mirror next to the dresser - also nude - turning his body to consider himself at different angles in the low lamplight. You watch him for a moment, watch the way his fingers card through his graying hair, loose from the grip of the day’s pomade. He runs his hand down his chest thoughtfully and comes to rest at the slight paunch of his belly. He cups the skin and his lips tug downwards into a frown.

“Amore?” he asks quietly, “do you think I’m eh, nice looking? Handsome?”

Any other time you’d laugh out loud at such an absurd question but you can tell from his slumped posture that he’s feeling downtrodden and that simply won’t do.

“The most handsome man I’ve ever seen. And that is not hyperbole. You’re the only man to ever turn my head.”

He sighs heavily through his nose and looks back at his reflection.

“You don’t think I’m…too old for you?”

Now it’s your turn to frown.

“My love…come here.”

He turns to look at you again and you crook your finger and throw back the covers. Fidgeting awkwardly he ambles over and slides into bed and you waste no time in pressing soft kisses to his jaw.

“Shall I tell you how handsome I find you? In great detail - from tip to toe?”

He scoffs and moves to pull the covers up over his chest but you gently rest your hand on his to stop him.

“You eh…you would do that?”

Now you do laugh.

“With pleasure,” you murmur, “let me just–” you pull yourself up and swing your leg over to straddle him, “--there we go. Let’s start here.” You rake your fingernails through his soft, wavy hair and smile when he shivers.

“I love your beautiful, full head of gorgeous thick hair and I love the bits of silver threaded through it most of all. I’ve told you before I’ve always had an, ah, thing for older men and well…what sort of older gentleman aficionado would I be if I didn’t love graying hair? I love the way the light catches on the silver and how it feels between my fingers when you’re uh…busy between my legs.”

He laughs softly through his nose, which is incidentally where your journey takes you next.

“And speaking of when you’re between my legs,” you say, waggling your brows as you drag your fingertip down the slope of his nose, “when this beautiful, stately, elegant thing nudges at my clit…oh. Copia I’ve always loved your nose since day one but what this thing is capable of…”

Your eyes unfocus for a moment as you lean in to kiss it absentmindedly.

“You’re getting distracted, amore mio,” Copia murmurs, eyes glittering. Eyes. Those pretty, mismatched eyes and those long brown lashes…

“As always, you are too kind to me,” he chortles, reaching a hand up to stroke your hair. Sathanas, you didn’t even realize you had said that out loud. “I used to hate my eyes when I was a kid, you know? Always a reminder of the bloodline I was a part of but never really a part of…not according to Nihil anyway. Where others thought the white eye was ‘commanding’ on Secondo or ‘alluring’ on Terzo, it was always eh, ‘unsettling’ on me.”

“Hmm,” you say thoughtfully, “I certainly don’t think you need them but did you ever consider contact lenses?”

“Oh, sì, sì,” he nods, “tried them once too in my twenties but eh…something was just…off. Personally I thought I looked creepier with two green eyes.”

You lean back a little and raise a hand to cover his white eye, and then the green while tilting your head.

“Shoulda got a white contact for the green eye instead so you could go around looking like some sexy demonic husky.”

Copia bursts out in laughter, his chest shaking beneath your palms.

“I thought this was supposed to make me feel better?”

“It is! I made you laugh, didn’t I?” you say with a grin, leaning down to place a slow, soft kiss on his lips that has his hands settling on your hips.

“Love these too,” you breathe when you finally separate, “love how soft and plump they are and I especially love the little freckle right here–” you place the pad of your thumb on his full lower lip, “--God you have no idea how it drove me mad day in and day out whenever we’d work together. Driving me to distraction. All I’d ever want to do when you got close to me is…” You lean forward once more and catch his lip gently between your teeth, sucking on it until you feel his cock twitch against you.

“Mmm,” you pull off him with a wet noise that has him panting into the dimly lit room, “is someone starting to buy into the truth that he’s the most handsome man in the abbey? Perhaps even the world?”

“Don’t push your luck, dolcezza, I’m just eh, excited to have a beautiful, soft, young thing on top of me. One who is very good with her mouth, I might add.”

“Oh, that’s too bad you still don’t believe me when I say you’re beautiful. Try harder and maybe I’ll give you a little treat, hmm?”

He chuckles and tilts his head back.

“I’ll do my best. Done with the face, then?”

“And skip your glorious little mustache and impeccably crafted sideburns? Cardinal, you know I’m a woman who pays attention to the details. To say nothing of the freckles that are scattered over your face and down–” you trail a finger down his throat and tap on his clavicle, “--over your chest and shoulders? I’d kiss every single one if I thought I’d live to accomplish that.” You amuse yourself for a moment by playing connect the dots with the marks until your fingertip slides over and traces the lines of his tattoo.

“You never did tell me the story with this.”

He smiles, thumbs brushing soft circles on your thighs.

“Terzo did it. I had just entered the priesthood and he came to my quarters and got me drunk and convinced–”

“Wait, when you say ‘Terzo did it’ you mean Terzo gave you the tattoo?”

“Sì,” he nods, “He knew how much I loved the Omen movies and always complained that I never did anything wild so…”

You lean forward and inspect the ink.

“That looks…a lot better than anything I would have expected from Terzo.”

Copia snickers.

“His lines were surprisingly steady, but his hand not nearly strong enough. I had a professional touch it up later but that stays between us, sì?”

You give him a salute and lean back, raking your fingernails down his chest.

“Back to the topic at hand,” you murmur, “unholy fuck I love your body hair. It’s so thick and soft and I love the way it scratches just right at my nipples when you’re fucking me into the mattress.”

He sucks in a breath so fast he nearly chokes.

“You’re really not holding back, are you cara mia?”

“Nope,” you confirm, watching the way the tip of his tongue slides out to wet his lips as he eyes your breasts. Briefly, your hands abandon his torso to come up and cup them, thumbing across your hardened nipples. You pull away and grab his hands, placing them where yours once were. Greedily, he palms the flesh as your hips make little circles.

“These,” you breathe, your hands covering his, “these gorgeous, big, strong hands with these thick fingers…I can’t even count how many times I brought myself off to the thought of them.”

“O-oh?” he pants, removing one hand and bringing it up to cup your face, “with the gloves a-and everything?”

You lean into his touch.

“Especially with the gloves. Copia, the way I’d fantasize about being able to feel every stitch and groove of those things when I’d picture them inside of me…” You turn your head to place a kiss to the scar tissue at the center of his palm and his thumb strokes your cheekbone. “Mmm, you got me distracted again. Where was I?”

You look down and remember, scooting backwards down his body to settle in between his thighs. He whines now that you’re only touchable if he sits up, too tired to make an effort. Not, however, too tired for other things, you think as you look down at his hardened cock resting heavy against his belly, smearing pre on the hairs there.

“We’ll address this,” you say, gesturing to his erection, “in a bit. But for now…this.”

Your word is punctuated by the way you run your hands over his slight paunch, grinning as you knead the flesh. Copia’s shoulders twitch as if he’d like nothing more than to fold in on himself, eyes trained up somewhere over your shoulder.

“Your soft tummy is so sweet and perfect and–” you make a noise like a big cat growling, “--I just want to eat it up.”

“Clearly from its appearance I’ve eh, done enough eating for the both of us.”

You frown deeply.

“Copia,” you say, your tone deadly serious, “since when do you have problems with a belly? I hope you don’t have problems with my belly and mine is a lot bigger than yours—“

“Amore, never!” he gasps, horrified, “You…you are perfection. You are soft and plush and-and a goddess. This–” he says, gesturing lamely to his paunch, “--is the result of old age. Old age and too much spaghetti.”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why it’s hot,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “My love, this little belly shows that not only have you enjoyed life, reveled in it the way Sathanas intended, but that you’ve survived. Endured. I love this belly the way I love every single line on your face. You wouldn’t be my Copia without them. I didn’t fall in love with some guy in his twenties with a waxed six-pack. Quite frankly…ew. Respectfully, beloved, I fell for the kind, smart, handsome, distinguished gentleman in his almost-fifties. Who is sort of goofy and really good with his tongue. I mean…really good.”

He laughs softly through his nose, regarding you with watery eyes. His lips form the words to thank you but no voice comes out. That’s alright, though. You’re not telling him these truths for your benefit.

“Shall I continue?” you ask gently, smiling when he nods.

Your hands slide down to his thighs, where you massage the flesh.

“You know I hadn’t even seen these - like, really seen them - until our first official date? When you wore those tight, tight pants? Lord have mercy these things are thick. I’d be content to gnaw on them like a dog with a bone if you’d let me.”

“Who says I wouldn’t?” he murmurs, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you say with a wink, “I’d compliment your juicy ass too if I could get to it so just remind me to give it a healthy smack next time you’re standing, huh? The first time I saw you in profile in your cassock I almost passed out. Goddamn.”

He laughs and tilts his head at you.

“Ti adoro follemente,” he says, “thank you for making this old man love himself, even if it’s just a tiny bit.”

“I’ll take a tiny bit for now, we’ll work on the positive reinforcement.”

“Oh? And what kind of positive reinforcement did you have in mind?”

You ghost your fingers along his half hard cock, wrapping them around the shaft and leaning forward to spit thickly, your saliva landing on the head. The act has Copia moaning and shifting his hips up into your touch as you stroke him back to full hardness.

“Ah, dolcezza,” he sighs, half-lidded eyes watching your hand slide along the shaft, “if only you had known what I fantasized about with your hands.”

“Well go on, bello mio,” you purr, swiping your thumb along the slit to gather the pre leaking from the head. “Tell me.”

He grunts and ruts up into your touch.

“W-we’d be in your office…working on some…some administrative thing. And I’d watch the way those clever little fingers would fly across your keyboard–ah, fuck–and I’d imagine you leaving your desk a-and settling on your knees between my legs. Lifting my cassock up and palming me through m-my trousers. S-sometimes you’d use your mouth too but…always your hands. Always those s-soft fingers wrapped around me j-just like this. I–oh, cazzo–”

His voice cuts off with a moan as you spit on him once again, the wet slide of your pumping hand and his harsh breathing the only sound in the room. With your other hand you reach down to cup his balls, gently caressing them as you continue to stroke the length of him.

“I-I’m not going to last, amore,” he rasps out, thrusting into your grip, “just like that bellezza mia.”

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, “you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, and I love you just as you are.”

You know the last handful of words will send him over the edge and send him they do, until he’s coming in spurts over your knuckles and gasping your name. You continue to stroke him until he has nothing left to give and when he’s spent, you raise your hand to your face and fastidiously lick every drop of his spend from your fingers as he watches with his mouth hung open. When your tongue passes over your middle finger for the final time he grabs at you, eagerly hauling you up his body and slotting his lips over your mouth in a slow, decadent kiss. When you finally pull away, it’s with a smile and you nudge his nose with yours. Gently, you roll off of him and nuzzle into his side, lazily kissing his shoulder. When he rolls onto his side to face you, you move to do the same but he presses you back down into the mattress.

“Copia, your stamina is impressive but you literally just came I don’t expect–”

He chuckles, gently dragging the bedsheets down to expose your body.

“Your turn, dolcezza.”

“My turn–oh.”

The realization hits you as the fingers of his right hand tease at the underside of your breasts and against your belly, dipping further down to cup at the wet heat of you, driving a gasp from your lips. He leans towards you to inhale deep along your neck, lips ghosting over your hair.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start in praising you, bellezza mia. Sweet - in both disposition and taste, tender in body and heart, beautiful in all ways. Tongue and mind as sharp as a tack and ridiculously amusing. Perfetto–” two of his fingers dip down into your labia majora and you see him smile out of the corner of your eye at how slick you are for him. “My perfect girl. Kind. Perhaps too kind and indulgent to this old man but…” his fingertips circle your clit and your hips spasm, “he will show you just how thankful he is nonetheless, sì?”

You whimper as his fingers tease at your entrance before sliding inside you knuckle deep, palm pressed flush against your clit. An echo of how you would touch yourself to the thought of him not that long ago.

“I’m not wearing my gloves but eh, I hope this will suffice for now?”

Your laugh comes out breathy as he begins to fuck into you at a decadent, leisurely pace, pressing open mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

“I never dreamed at my age I’d find someone like you,” he confesses, “Like you were–like we were made for each other. Every morning and every night I thank Sathanas for bringing you to me, thank you for allowing me to worship you. Anima mia, I adore you so much I wish to devour you. To join our bodies and minds and souls together for eternity and further. I told you before that I love you so much I fear driving you off but…I think we are equally matched in our passions, sì?”

You let out a delighted sigh, spreading your legs further to better accommodate him. It’s nice like this - lazy, unhurried - and he smiles as you clench around him.

“Perfectly matched,” you breathe, meeting the languid thrust of his fingers with the tight circling of your hips, “Copia I am yours in every way - yours to use and fuck and–ah–consume as you please. All yours. Always yours–oh fuck.”

The fervor of your words makes his breathing and his fingers quicken, pumping in and out of you with greater force.

“I would have you all night if you let me,” he growls, his breath hot in your ear, “Say you’ll let me, per favore. Please give me this gift. On my fingers, tongue, cock, it doesn’t matter I need you amore, need to watch you come undone and help mend you back together. Please, I–”

He’s crooked his fingers inside you, pressing against that sweet little spot that makes you whine and cant your hips eagerly. You can feel the tears prick the corners of your eyes and you’re breathless as you nod.

“Copia, please, please, please, need you, need all of you–oh, fuck baby that’s it, don’t stop, don’t–ah!”

Your moan is pitchy and borderline desperate as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. 

“Mine,” he growls, “Solo mio come sono tuo. La mia bellissima ragazza perfetta. Il mio cuore e la mia anima. Il mio riflesso. La mia luce e il mio buio. Per sempre. Mia scellerata benedizione, non ti merito. I love you more than anything. Anything.”

Panting, you blindly reach down to still his hand between your legs and he sobs into your shoulder. Gently, you extricate his fingers from you and bring his hand up to your face, tongue darting out to taste yourself. Tears slide down his cheeks as he watches, entranced, as you suck each finger into your mouth before dragging the muscle up the center of his palm. His eyes are wet and bright, pupils blown as you lean up and place a soft kiss to his lips. When you pull apart, you thumb away the tears remaining on his cheeks and smile softly at him.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, sniffling, “I don’t know what got into me, amore, I–”

“This was a lot,” you murmur, reaching up to push the loose strands of hair off his forehead, “but I hope you know how loved you are by me - everything about you, all of it - and that there is no one more beautiful on this planet to me than the man I see before me right now. And I’ll remind you of this again and again and again until the end of days and even further. You are so special to me, Copia. I hope that even for a little bit tonight you got to see yourself through my eyes.”

When he leans forward to place a kiss to your forehead, he’s trembling.

“C’mere,” you say, drawing him into your arms as he drapes his body over you, arm around your waist. The weight of him is solid and comforting as you press kisses to his hair, enveloping yourself in the orange blossom scent of what little remains of his pomade. 

“I promised to ravish you all night,” Copia murmurs, his voice comically muffled by his lips squished against your breast. You snort inelegantly.

“We’ve got many nights ahead of us for that, my love,” you say with a smile, hand stroking along his freckled shoulders, “I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. But more importantly - are you alright?”

He pulls away slightly to rest his chin on you.

“I don’t think I have been for a long time,” he says quietly, “Not really, anyway. But ever since you arrived…columba mia, it’s like I have a purpose again.”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to get watery.

“I know exactly what you mean. Exactly. I…I really need to thank Sister Imperator someday for bringing me here, in the end. I mean yeah she had nefarious intentions but…in a roundabout way she kinda helped save my life.”

“Amore, I don’t mean to sound like some kind of eh, Christian but…Sathanas has a plan for us. And it doesn’t involve any of that child bearing bullshit that was being spewed at you…no. He brought us together for a reason and for that I am thankful every day. Thankful every day you did not run screaming from Imperator’s office the day of your interview. Thankful you saw this…peculiar, awkward, old Cardinal…and saw not only a friend but a-a soulmate. I thank Sathanas but like I said earlier - I thank you more. I would forsake my Unholy Father in a heartbeat for you, amore. You are my true religion now. Know that.”

The noise that comes out of you is wet and embarrassing as you cup Copia’s cheek and rest your forehead against his. After a moment of shared breath, you pull away.

“My love, I’m so sorry to ruin the moment but I desperately need to blow my nose.”

He laughs - one of his weird little “ehehe” numbers - and the sound makes your heart swell in your chest.

“Anything for the woman I love,” he announces grandly, leaning over you to grab the box of tissues on the nightstand and present them to you. You pluck one out and hold it to your face while Copia watches fondly from a very close distance.

“Uh, hon?”

“Mmhmm?”

“You might want to back up a little? I don’t trust the integrity of these things and you do not want to be in the splash zone.”

Copia rolls off you making the most revolted noise as you laugh and struggle to breathe through your congested nose. Sitting up, you blow into the tissue while he watches looking supremely disgusted.

“‘Splash zone’,” he grumbles, shaking his head, “Amore, you are not well.”

“Yeah, I think that’s been established in our year of knowing one another. And, I’m sorry I didn’t realize I was speaking to the pinnacle of mental health over here.”

He pinches the meat of your thigh mid-blow and it makes you choke. In retaliation, you throw one of your crumpled, used tissues at him and it bounces off his chest.

“Augh, it’s wet!”

“Duh, that’s my snot,” you chirp pleasantly. “What you don’t like it? What was all that before about how I’m ‘your beautiful, perfect girl’, and ‘your reflection’, and ‘your heart and soul’ and–”

“...You understood all of that?”

You smile.

“Not all of it, but most. I’ve got a pretty impressive Duolingo streak going from all those nights you have confession duty, you know.”

He props himself up on his side and stares at you with a goofy smile.

“Amore mio, I take back my disgust. You could use me as a tissue and I would say thank you.”

That makes a horrible noise come out of you.

“Copia, I’d call you a simp but I think there would be some pot calling the kettle black action going on there so I’ll refrain. Ugh, what a fucking day.”

You gather up your used tissues with the intent of heading to the bathroom with them but Copia turns to you with his hands cupped expectantly. Gently, you smile before depositing them and watching him get up and pad over to the garbage in the other room. When he comes back after washing his hands and climbs into bed, making his delightful old man noises, you grin.

“Thank you for indulging me tonight,” you murmur as you nestle into his side.

“Indulging you? As if I wasn’t the one getting showered with compliments by a beautiful, nude, young woman?”

“You know what I mean,” you say, trying your best to stifle a yawn. “For hearing me out, for letting me show you how perfect you are to me…all of it. And thank you for the very kind things you said about me in turn. I…will not easily forget that.”

“I certainly hope not but like you, I am prepared to remind you over and over and over of how precious and perfect you are.”

“With fingers, tongue, and cock?” you ask innocently, parroting Copia’s earlier promise. He snorts.

“Dolcezza mia, however you want it.”

“Mmm,” your eyelids are getting heavy as you listen to Copia’s steady breathing, “I’ll hold you to that.”

“I would expect nothing less from such a demanding mistress.”

“Oh you haven’t even seen my demanding mistress side yet, beloved.”

He’s got his eyes closed but makes the dirtiest, most intrigued noise you’ve ever heard and it makes butterflies ricochet around in your stomach. His hand trails teasingly up your arm, causing a shiver to roll through you.

“Well, Padrona,” he murmurs, low and enticing, “I’m not entirely sure I’m ready for bed just yet.”

You’re already sitting up with a sigh and straddling his hips for the second time that evening as you say: “Insatiable as always, Your Eminence. Hmm, do I get to wear your grucifix and biretta? Perhaps I’ll get that pretty red rope out too?”

“Oh amore…I insist.”

[writingjourney]

don't ask me about secondo ever or you will hear me rambling out a whole character analysis for two hours because I am DEDICATED to this man, he is my wife.

EDIT – Okay you did it.

Some SFW Secondo HCs:

had to deal with the highest expectations out of the brothers, being older than Terzo and a lot younger than Primo it was clear that his Papacy would be of importance and Nihil expected him to excel while not necessarily providing the necessary guidance (especially when Terzo turned out to be more rebellious in nature)

being Nihil’s “favorite” did not come with all the benefits one might suspect, no more attention, no more love or care, only more work and pressure within the clergy

outside of the family many people never realised how he suffered from this neglect and exploitation and therefore do not perceive his trauma as that, often mistake his character for being cold/aloof when really he is just masking extremely hard and trying to appear unaffected and professional

while he was prepared for his future role, he quickly realised that his needs weren’t of importance, only his work and his rise within the clergy and so he learned that it is better not to ask and appear weak (so they don’t consider him unfitting)

while Primo did the best he could to replace their absent father, the clergy’s demands on the future Papa never allowed him to be quite the father figure that he wished he could be for his younger brothers – Secondo had to learn fast how to take care of himself and how to protect his younger brother from the clergy’s influences

despite detesting the clergy’s inner mechanisms, Secondo is a man of duty and has accepted that he was put on this path in Lucifer’s name

just before and after becoming Papa he quickly learned that bringing in own ideas just leads to dismissal and that being Papa made him a vessel for the ideals of the clergy which he grew to detest (“I’m a marionette”), also quickly learned that it is wiser not to rebel against them

this made him worried for Terzo who already had a lot of plans for his own Papacy that weren’t in line with the clergy’s agenda

through it all he found a lot of solace in his faith, is the most spiritual out of all the Papas with a special fondness for the modern symbolism of Baphomet that represents balance and wholeness (“And he's as macho as he is connected to the softer, more feminine part of himself” X), something that means a lot to him who is caught in a lot of turbulent emotions, this spirituality and also his high level of literacy is pretty evident in his music

therefore: best spiritual guide/advisor out of all the Papas, knows the right quotes and the right words to provide comfort and reassurance to bring you back on your path, way more empathetic than people give him credit for based on his cool demeanour, even though he is someone who quietly reassures you and uses a more reason based approach

because of all of this he has grown to be a very measured man who will always weigh reason and emotions against each other, rarely will you see him lose his temper on the outside, being in control of his emotions is important to him because that way he can have a sense of power he lacked when he was younger (also means he cannot let loose and relax easily, this man is TENSE and his shoulders hate him for it)

if someone wrongs him that person will get the cold shoulder and honestly, being the object of his scorn is worse, disappointing him is worse than his anger and he never forgets anything, this man has a whole drawer of receipts

doesn’t hate anyone as much as himself, the top spot is however taken by his neglectful, uncaring father who never knew how to act like a parent

if he does lose his temper it will usually not be on behalf of himself but someone else he truly cares about (his brothers, his lover, his protégés etc) and even so his anger is not the loud, yelling or violent kind but the kind that sends chills down your spine (his looks alone can kill and he finds the perfect sharp words to hurt you)

soft-spoken (not quite as much as Primo though), very calculated and minimalist in what he shows on the outside but his words usually hit where and how they’re supposed to (just listen to his voice on Infest and some of his speeches on stage, it’s quiet and haunting)

very much a quality over quantity sort of person – good food, good drinks, nice clothes he can wear for a long time, simple luxuries that go a long way and add to his comfort

big earth sign energy when it comes to his habits, works hard, has high expectations, good with money, particular about how he does things but generous with those he loves

good luck trying to get this man to open to up to you, he will not overshare and you have to pry every bit of more intimate personal information out of him, especially about his childhood

however, he is a very willing and patient teacher if you want to learn about his special interests or happen to sit in one of his classes, especially if you show potential and interest

self-sabotages a lot, especially when it comes to romantic relationships, for flings he avoids anything too intimate which extends to his preferred sex positions as well as kissing, when he notices he could really like someone he will find reasons why it doesn’t work (commitment issues), scared to be hurt and also scared to inflict pain and false hopes on someone else

when he does fall for someone and overcomes his fears he is the most loyal and supportive partner, you will be surprised by how loving and gentle he is with you, by how romantic he is (not in the cheesy way but in that soft, caring way who wants to love forever), pays close attention to your needs and preferences and never forgets anything

love languages: shows love with acts of service, gift giving and also quality time, likes to receive physical touch (loves to cuddle but is hesitant to initiate, would never admit how much he loves kisses to his face and hand holding but you can tell after some time), quality time and words of affirmation (so many times until he finally believes them)

[evereverest2]

Afraid — Terzomega

~part 6 of the Little Monsters series~

3.4k words ~ smut

Omega returns to the cardinal's quarters.

i think this is the longest part yet. well. hope you like it :3 posting slightly early bc who gives a damn ! hopefully i don’t get swamped by school and finish the next part in a timely manner hehe

[parts]: one | previous | next

—

Omega found himself outside the cardinal’s quarters once again. He had been there for a number of minutes, hesitating. Wringing his hands. Scratching his neck. Thinking.

He was inclined to trust that Terzo would keep their deal and be perfectly sober when he walked through that door. What made him hesitate, though, was how he should act. Taking out his frustration and hatred on a drunk man seemed less wrong than doing it on a sober one. Terzo’s expectations, if he should not be so violent, if he should give the human mercy. Sure, it was their old deal, but to Omega, it felt as if everything had changed. Their kiss in the garden had made it change.  

Omega did not hate Terzo anymore. And it terrified him.

He cast his thoughts aside, his body letting him know how inconvenienced it was waiting for his mind to pick up the pace. It was just sex, after all. Simple, carnal sex. That was their agreement, and that was all they would do.

Omega gave one last glance around him before lightly knocking and stepping inside.

Terzo looked up. He was sitting on his couch, writing something in a book, but as Omega entered, he cast it aside and stood.

“Hello, Omega ghoul. You finally show up.” Terzo smiled, clearly excited.

Omega nodded. He looked around the room as if he had never seen it before, still feeling nerves bubbling in his stomach. 

What was wrong with him?

Terzo did not miss a beat, though. He crossed the room to stand in front of Omega. He reached up for his head, which Omega obliged, leaning down for them to meet in a kiss. He was suddenly thrust into Terzo’s feelings. Arousal. Desire. Impatience. 

All Omega felt was hesitance.

Terzo jumped up, and Omega caught him by instinct. He was hoisted high in the air, legs wrapped around his waist, with Omega looking up into their embrace. Terzo held his face, gently feeling the contours of his jaw and cheeks, humming against his lips.

Omega walked slowly, moving to sit on Terzo’s bed. Terzo easily settled into his lap as if he belonged there, kissing with ferocity as Omega’s hands settled around his hips. Terzo’s hands roamed his body— over his shoulders, his chest, diving down to grasp his bulge. He rubbed it harshly, grinding down to shallowly hump his lap. Omega growled lightly in stimulation. 

He undid Omega’s belt, unzipped his pants, now palming his underwear. It drove him wild with need, not enough friction. Omega gritted his teeth, his kissing becoming stilted as a result.

Terzo was teasing him. Taking his sweet time to satisfy him. And any other day, Omega would punish that. Today, though, things were different. He wanted to be gentle. To, for once, allow the cardinal a night where his body was not destroyed by a savage ghoul. There was no resentment. There was no wrath. Only the perplexing state of their affair in which Omega was too frightened to sort out in his mind.

Terzo pulled away, tilting his head mischievously. “Are you pissy, little kitty?”

Omega glared with carnage in his eyes. “No.”

“Your tail begs to differ.”

Indeed, it was swishing back and forth in frustration. Omega stilled it.

Terzo yanked down his underwear, letting his large, purple cock free with a slight bounce. They stared at one another, Terzo smirking, Omega glowering. Slowly, ever so slowly, Terzo wrapped one finger at a time around his shaft, and once his hand was firmly grasping him, he dug into just the tip with his thumb.

Omega clenched his fists, willing himself to be compliant, unmoving. Their eyes were still locked in a stare. He was close to snapping. No, he must hold back. Be a good ghoul. Let him have his way tonight.

“Okay, what is deal?” Terzo suddenly let go, huffing, his expression falling into that of disappointment. 

Omega, confused, mumbled, “What?”

“You do not ravage me as a ghoul should. You sit there and let me tease you. Why?”

“I was…” Omega looked away, somewhat embarrassed. “I was trying to be nice.”

“You are not nice; you are mi mostriciatto. You hurt me.”

“I don’t have to hurt you.”

“I want you to hurt me! It is sexy, ghoul!” Terzo said, exasperated.

“I don't have to be an asshole when we have sex.”

“But you are an asshole!”

Omega’s brow furrowed, and he frowned. He instantly felt defensive. “No.”

“But you are! Satanas, Omega, this is why we fuck.”

“Because I’m an asshole?”

“Exactly.”

Omega stood, lifting Terzo with him briefly until throwing him down angrily on the bed.

“Fine,” the ghoul growled, bearing his teeth. 

Terzo immediately looked uneasy.

Omega pounced on him, tearing off his clothes with nothing but his claws, indifferent to his skin breaking in the process. He dove down and kissed him wildly, making him groan with every long drag of claws down his body. 

Omega reached out with his mind, delving into Terzo’s. For a moment, he paused, his actions ceasing, focused. Then, he began pouring his quintessence into Terzo.

He turned and stood, his back to him. Listening. Suddenly, Terzo was whining, moaning, pathetically calling Omega’s name behind him. He cast a dour glare over his shoulder.

“Mostriciatto, what is happening?” Terzo whimpered. His body was shaking, his dick so hard it was visibly throbbing. Through him, quintessence was flowing in the form of sexual stimulation, taking over every nerve in his body. 

Omega was overwhelming him with pleasure.

“You’re getting what you asked for,” Omega replied darkly.

Omega watched him struggle and stare at him with pleading eyes. He slowly undressed himself, listening to Terzo’s cries, leaving everything he wore on the floor except his belt.

He slid into bed, leaning against the headboard. He commanded Terzo, “Come here.”

Terzo struggled. He slowly clamored to his knees, shaking fiercely, and crawled towards him, eventually dragging himself on his lap. Omega wrapped the belt around his neck, fastening it snuggly before giving it a terse yank. Terzo fell forward, catching himself on his chest. Omega held a claw under his chin, forcing him to look up.

“Ride me.”

Terzo shuddered, looking as if tears were filling his eyes. He nodded.

“Speak.”

Terzo moaned. “Yes… mostriciatto… I will…”

Terzo clamored to sit up, using Omega’s shoulders to steady himself. He looked down, grabbed Omega’s dick, and pressed it against himself. 

“There is… lube…” Terzo breathed, pointing at his nightstand.

He never held any patience for the suffering cardinal. Omega grabbed him by the hips and, with a bit of effort, shoved himself inside.

Terzo shouted in pain, then whined in pleasure. He hung his head, hand pressed to his forehead, gasping.

“Every time…” Terzo mumbled.

Omega yanked on the belt, stopping him from collapsing by holding his shoulder. Terzo’s breath caught with the hold of the belt. 

“Move.”

Terzo, with great effort, complied, raising and lowering himself with stuttered breaths and moaning. After only a few short thrusts, he came. A white stream that painted Omega’s stomach, his untouched cock kicking a few times, his ass tightening around Omega. He sank down, trembling, supporting himself by planting his hands on Omega’s hips.

Omega did not stop the flow of quintessence. Tears slipped down Terzo’s face.

“Mos… Mostri…” 

Omega held his face, wiping away a tear with his thumb. He said coldly, “I won’t stop until you make me cum.”

Terzo shook his head. Omega gripped the belt. “Keep. Going.”

He gasped against it, holding the belt with his hands. He let out a strained sob. Hesitantly, he began to move, placing his hands again on Omega’s shoulders, pushing himself up and down.

Omega peered at him callously. Deep down, while he loved the sight of Terzo so desperate, he knew he was going about it wrong. But when he remembered what Terzo said, he just became angrier. Unsatisfied. Covetous. Hedonistic.

“Faster,” he barked, frustrated. Terzo whined, tears falling from his chin to Omega’s stomach. So overwhelmed. His legs shook like they never had before. He sank down and stopped entirely.

“Fuck,” Omega seethed, growing rageful by the second. “I said faster.”

“I— I— I— am— t—trying—“ Terzo wailed. “It’s— too much—” He covered his face, collapsing in on himself like a dying star.

You are an asshole.

Omega roared, a monstrous sound that erupted from his throat, born of pure aggravation., like an animal that had been starved for too long. He grabbed Terzo’s hips and pushed him on his back. Terzo fell to the bed, his legs practically vibrating as they hung in the air.  Omega continued to pour that ever so pleasurable magic into him, just as he began to pound his cock into his tight ass.

“You wanted this!” Omega shouted. Terzo continued to tremble, covering his face, sporting another measly erection from the unending quintessence rushing through his veins. He said nothing in reply. He could not even hope to respond. He was too busy drooling on himself, losing control of his body.

Omega snarled, confused in his own rage. “Answer me! Tell me this is what you want!” 

Omega dragged his claws down his body, drawing blood. Terzo did not answer. Only incomprehensible sobs. Omega fucked him harder.

“Tell me to stop!” Omega said, desperate now, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. “Say stop!”

Omega grabbed his wrists, yanking his hands away from his face. Terzo’s eyes were rolled back, lashes fluttering, mouth agape in whatever form of moan or sob or scream emitting from him.

Beautiful.

Omega clenched his jaw. He grabbed him by the arms, sinking his nails within to hold him tight, thrusting as hard as he could. 

 “Mm… Mos…!”

The bed shook with the force. Terzo shook with more, and he came again. His body clenched down so hard that, for a moment, Omega thought he might get stuck.

And it felt amazing. 

With Omega’s orgasm came a wild jerk, one that made the bed shriek sharply in protest. He lost his connection to Terzo, finally ending the torturous waterfall of quintessence devouring the poor cardinal. Lost in his fog of pleasure, he fell forward, burying his head in Terzo’s shoulder, holding onto him like he was lost at sea. After a few more thrusts, they were still, with nothing but the sound of Terzo’s gentle sobbing, his soft hiccups as he calmed down.

His arms surrounded Omega. They slid around his back, massaging circles in his skin. It was strange, yet soothing. Omega was satiated, the rage dissipating, feeling calm.

“I’m sorry, mostriciatto,” Terzo murmured, his voice breaking slightly. “I asked for too much.”

Omega rose slightly, able to meet his eyes. He shook his head, pained by Terzo’s expression. His tears. His guilt.

“Don’t you apologize.” Omega took in a few deep breaths, and when he opened his eyes again, he noticed Terzo listening closely, watching him with intrigue. He looked away, finishing his sentence with, “I’m sorry.”

“Is Omega ghoul apologizing to me?”

Omega could no longer get mad. He was ashamed, abashed, disgusted by his own brutality. He simply nodded. 

“Then I forgive you.” 

Astonished, Omega turned to look at him just as he reached up to give him a gentle kiss on the forehead. 

Terzo blinked up at him. Smiling. Omega felt his heart pounding. From his mind were bursts of adoration and happiness that Omega could not bear, that made him want to scream and sprint away from the bedroom. It smelled like roses.

Oh, how he despised him. 

But he could not despise him. Not anymore.

Omega gently touched his face, wiping away residual tears from his eyes, trying not to smear his makeup further. Terzo shut them, sighing serenely. His face. It filled his mind. His gentle face. His handsome face. His cute face.

Terzo interrupted his thoughts, opening his eyes once more.

“That was a bit much, though,” Terzo chuckled. “I think it was the yelling at me. That is usually fine, but you were angry, not sexy.”

Omega hardly listened. His face.

The aggression returned, but Omega bit it back. Instead he pulled out of Terzo, causing the cardinal to groan lightly, and sat at the edge of the bed. He sighed, clearing his mind.

“You called me an asshole,” Omega said quietly. He drew up his legs, wrapping his arms around them, his tail curling at his feet. He stared at a flaw in the patterned wallpaper behind his nightstand.

“You are not an asshole.” Terzo also sat up, sitting next to him. “I was speaking in bed. You do not-so-nice things, and it turns me on. But— err— perhaps asshole was the wrong word. Simple, eh, miscommunication. In normal life, you are quite good.” 

Omega did not answer. This prompted Terzo to keep talking. 

“Si, you are responsible and caring for the Ministry. They do not appreciate you, but I do.”

Omega turned his head towards him, still not quite meeting his eyes.

“When I become Papa,” Terzo continued, “Things will change. You will not be so stressed. You have my word.”

“Why does that matter to you?” Omega finally said.

“Ghoul, you are a gift from Satan, not a feelingless tool. You do not deserve to be enslaved by the cruelty of man. This is why you are angry, si?”

Omega’s eyes widened.

“We are lucky to have such magnificent creatures in our midst,” Terzo said. “Imperator does not understand. Perhaps she has not learned to know you. No human has been to me what you have been.”

Omega was at a loss for words. Was this truly the cardinal he had hated for so long? The drunk idiot skulking around ministry halls? This sober man was worlds away from the cardinal Omega thought he knew. Someone that could, somehow, so clearly read others better than Omega himself, and was thoughtful as a result. Someone that Omega thought he was like, before his life became a constant hailstorm of resentment and rage.

“What have I been to you?” Omega eventually asked.

“You are my mostriciatto, of course.”

Omega’s heart dropped. 

What was this man doing to him?

He abruptly stood and looked around as though uncertain of his intent. He caught sight of his clothes on the ground and snatched them up.

“Are you leaving so soon?”

Omega paused. “You aren’t done?”

Terzo sighed, hugging himself and looking away. “I am. I just thought you might stay tonight.”

Why?

The question rattled around his brain. One word. There was no reason for Terzo to treat him this way, to be so forgiving, to want him. To act so kind and say these things that made his chest feel strange. To possess him, to call him his mostriciatto.

Omega dropped his clothes, sitting again on the bed. Terzo’s feelings of shock struck the air like lightning, pervading Omega’s consciousness. Terzo was not expecting him to stay. Neither was he.

Omega said, “Okay.”

A warm vanilla scent graced his senses. Happiness. Relief. Intimacy. Terzo wanted this. Omega had never willingly spent the night with him before.

“Really?”

Omega nodded.

Terzo leaned against his arm. Without seeing his face, Omega knew he was smiling. “You have been surprising me as of recent, mostriciatto. I hope you keep doing that.”

Omega’s tail flicked back and forth. This time, let himself be. 

“I’m sorry. For yelling, I mean. And being an asshole. Again.” Omega’s words escaped him like vomit, feeling the need to apologize again.

“I do forgive you, Omega ghoul. Is there anything you would like to do tonight?”

Omega shook his head.

“We drink?”

Omega jumped up, scowling at him, ready to throw the entire night away.

Terzo laughed. “I kid, I kid! Calm down, ghoul, I know you do not like it. I do not need to drink with you around, I promise. Come, sit now.”

Omega sighed, relieved. He listened to his command, returning to his side. 

“Actually, I should not have sit. My quilt is ruined.”

Terzo slowly rose, and they both looked down at the mess he left behind. Well, it was really Omega’s mess that was left behind. 

“I will shower,” Terzo declared, snatching up his robe, discarded on one of his armchairs, and wrapping himself within.

Omega nodded. He hesitated, watching Terzo walk away. 

“Do you…” Omega started. Terzo paused, looking over his shoulder. “…I mean, I want to shower.”

Terzo smirked. He held up his hand and curled his finger back, beckoning the ghoul. Omega, though embarrassed, obediently followed his gesture, trailing after him into his bathroom.

Terzo turned on the water. They both lingered for a moment, subtle glances directed anywhere but their eyes. When the water began steaming, Terzo hung his robe on a nearby hook and stepped inside the standing shower, leaving the glass door ajar.

Omega shuffled towards him, shutting the door behind him. He looked down. Terzo’s hair was wet, flat against his head with strands sticking to his forehead. Black eye makeup streamed down his face just as residual blood rinsed from his fresh scratches, giving him a hauntingly beautiful complexion, like a painting thrust into the rain.

“What do you smile at, hm?” Terzo asked. 

Omega had not realized. He set his face in stone. “Nothing.”

“Ha, I know. I am only now realizing I forgot my eyes.” He grabbed a bottle of some sort of cream, squirted it onto his fingertips, and scrubbed furiously at his face. He turned towards the spray, rinsing it off. Omega idly held his waist, blaming their close proximity.

“Is it gone?” Terzo spun and looked up at him.

“Yeah,” Omega said, feeling his face heat up. Indeed, his face was clear, and it felt to Omega just a tad too intimate to see his face like this. At least last time he saw his face, when Terzo was hungover, he looked too awful to inspire such thoughts. Now shone his true complexion, and it was bugging Omega in some type of way.

Terzo fell forward, pressing his cheek against Omega’s chest and hugging him. Omega naturally embraced him back.

He sighed softly. “Mostriciatto, what are we doing here?”

Omega ran his fingers through Terzo’s hair. “I don’t know.”

“It would not work, would it?”

Omega wanted to feign ignorance, but they both knew what Terzo meant. Omega, as hard as he tried, could not be blind to Terzo’s feelings. 

“No.” His heart twisted painfully.

Terzo nodded, his face gliding against Omega’s wet chest.

“But we can keep fucking?”

“Yeah,” Omega murmured. “It’s easier to hide.”

“Is that why it would not work?” Terzo looked up.

“What?”

“Because we could not hide. Is that why?”

“No.”

Terzo’s eyebrows twitched, confused. “Oh. Is it… You do not feel the same?”

“I don’t.” 

He knew it was a lie before it even left his mouth. But Terzo was not the one able to read his intent, and so he believed him. His face fell, and he looked away, returning to their hug. Disappointment. Sadness. 

“Oh.”

The smell of roses faded. It broke Omega’s heart. But somehow, he believed it was the right thing to do. 

“I hope it is not awkward then,” Terzo laughed, but it was strained. “I am sorry, mostriciatto.”

Omega could hardly withstand the feelings of hurt and confusion radiating off him. It would not work. Not because of Terzo, or the Ministry, or any of the plethora of minute yet valid reasons that they could not be together. Omega had wrapped himself up in an angry facade to keep the world at bay, but he had not forgotten his own, true emotions.

He was afraid.

“Don’t apologize.”

It took everything inside of Omega not to take it all back. This was for the best, he knew. Omega always had to make the sacrifice.

“Then forget I said anything,” Terzo laughed again. He untangled himself from Omega, turning to the shower. He started cleaning himself. “I want to keep fucking you, that is all that is important, si?”

“Terzo—“

“Please. Do not say anything.”

Omega watched him shower in awkward silence. They took turns under the spray, saying nothing.  They did not speak another word until they had left the bathroom, with Terzo sitting in his bed, robe around him, looking up at Omega hesitating to join.

“You may leave if you want,” Terzo finally said. He crossed his arms, looking away.

Omega grappled with himself, struggling to let the cardinal go in his mind. 

And in the end, his heart won.

Omega wordlessly slipped under the covers, lying next to him. After a moment, Terzo cautiously shifted closer, lying on his chest. Omega put his arm around him, and felt Terzo’s tension and unease dissipate with the act. He nestled against his side, sighing contentedly. A hint of rosey fragrance graced Omega’s nose.

“Goodnight, mostriciatto.”

“Goodnight.”

~end of act one~

[parts]: one | previous | next

buy me a kofi <3

[ghulehunknown]

Terzo x F Reader - Spanking, Degradation, Breeding

Thank you katfish__ on Twitter for bringing my words to life! Check out her full NSFW version here.

**WARNING for explicit content below**

One Missed Text

Summary: You haven’t returned Papa’s text! - or did you? Well either way he’s very upset with you for seemingly ignoring him, and he intends on teaching you a lesson in manners.

CW/Tags: male masturbation, spanking, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (P in V), rough sex, degradation, possessive behavior, breeding, blood, aftercare, spit kink

Word Count: 3.3K

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day, lovelies! I’m bringing back an older fic of mine from AO3 that I haven’t posted here before. I hope you enjoy it!

Poring over text, you sighed. Sister would have your head if you didn’t complete your work by Friday. You were searching for hours in the Unholy Books for references to give her on the week’s upcoming Black Mass sermon: gluttony. That was not nearly as exciting as lust – unless, of course, you were gluttonous for a slice of your beloved. Speaking of, Terzo had not returned your last text message. You were hoping for a midday romp to break up the monotony of the day’s tasks.

You were both teasing each other throughout the day, as you often did on the most boring days to keep each other entertained during the endless meetings and duties. The other Siblings would tease you when they saw your face light up. “Another text from Terzo?” they would ask, knowing full well the answer. What was the subject matter of those messages?…well, that was a secret after all.

“Please…” he had begged through text today (mixed with several undecipherable emojis) after you sent him a quick nip slip photo. “I must have you. Come to me.” That was over two hours ago.

“Name the time and place,” you responded. You saw the text bubbles indicating he was typing, over and over, until they finally disappeared. Frustrated, you tossed your phone back into your purse and continued perusing the books. It felt like forever had gone by. You picked up your phone again just to check for a notification. Nothing. And it had only been 5 minutes. He was so eager before…what happened?

…

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, Terzo was pacing back and forth in his office. He stared at his phone, no notifications staring back at him as if mocking him. He huffed and put his phone back in his pocket, and paced around some more, continuously pulling out his phone every 30 seconds.

His dearest had sent him the most salacious photo (which he immediately saved to his photo roll)…and he felt the heat rising in his trousers. Thank Lucifer he had no more meetings so he could fuck your brains out in his office.

He had responded to your last text inquiring the time and place, “Now. My office, ovviamente. Where else potrei scoparti in pieno giorno cosi forte da dimenticarti il tuo nome?” but you had not responded and he was growing more and more frustrated by the minute. Was the last text too much? Surely not; you had fucked in every scenario before – slow, fast, loving, passionate… aggressive. Maybe you weren’t feeling his assertive tone today? Oh, how he hated the increased paranoia and anxiety that came along with being in love; it drove him mad.

He opened up his camera roll, where he saved all your cheeky photos to his ‘hidden’ album. Texting the password to the album with his left hand, he started to thumb the erection forming in his pants. He leaned back in his office chair and kicked his legs up on the desk, scrolling through the photos while unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants with his right hand. He grabbed a few tissues from his desk and tossed his head back, imagining your mouth on him as he stroked himself faster and faster.

…

It was nearing 5 o’clock and you still had not heard from him. The day was over, and you decided to take up the Siblings’ offer of joining them for dinner and drinks. You headed over to the mess hall and grabbed a bite to eat, chatting with them over a pint and trying to enjoy Ghoul karaoke night (Alpha was “performing” in a series of barking and hissing). You felt a bit dejected, drowning your sorrows in French fries and lager, but tried to brush it off – figuring Terzo got busy during the day. Ever since he had been anointed Papa you saw less and less of one another.

You decided instead of feeling angry, you would reward his hard work with the best fuck he had ever received. You downed the rest of your drink to give yourself a little extra liquid courage, waved goodbye to your friends, and headed back to yours and Terzo’s bedchamber.

When you walked in, you found him leaning against the dresser, cigarette in his mouth and lighter in his hand. Just before he lit up, he caught your gaze and rolled his eyes. You hadn’t realized but your demeanor had changed as soon as you saw the cigarette, your brow furrowing in disdain.

“Come to piss on the fun again?” he huffed, shoving the lighter and unlit cigarette back into his pocket and walking into the bathroom.

“What?” you asked incredulously, following him. (“Not in our room!” you exclaimed the last time he lit one up in bed with you post-coitus.)

“See what you make me do!” He fumbled around in the top drawer of the double vanity, pulling out a nail file, and began to file his nails a little too forcefully.

You stood in the doorway and propped yourself against the doorframe.

He pointed the nail file at you. “You left me hanging today, amore.”

“Me?” you asked, still incredulous at his lack of self-awareness today. “What about you? I was waiting all day for you to tell me where to meet you.”

“Amore!” he exclaimed again, throwing his hands up in the air. His anxieties were building up in him like lava. “So I’m the problem again? I told you to meet me in my office. I waited for you all day – you see how crazy you make me? I even had to take care of this myself – ” He motioned down to his pants, a small tent already formed in his trousers.

You looked down and smiled at the sight. You couldn’t help feeling a little amused. In a way you felt powerful to have such an effect on him.

“Oh you think it’s funny, eh? Well we’ll see how you like being punished for such insolence.”

“Terzo my love, I was waiting for your response all day,” you assured him, but he wasn’t having it.

He exclaimed something unintelligible in Italian under his breath, throwing his hands into the air again then continuing to aggressively file his index and middle fingernails on his right hand. His face turned mischievous as he eyed you out of his peripheral. He turned to you and asked, “You know what this means, don’t you?”

Your face blushed instantly as you knew where his mind was headed. The arousal that had been building up between your legs all day suddenly came trickling down your thighs.

“Don’t act so innocent, amorina,” he said with a smirk. “I know you like to tease and brat, but I expected you to behave today.” He walked around you slowly, like a predator stalking its prey.

You gulped. “Check your phone,” you piped up. He rolled his eyes once more in response. You reached forward, trying to get to his pocket, but he easily swatted your hand away. “Check it!” you urged. “I would never leave you unanswered.”

He seemed skeptical but pulled out his phone and went to his messages. “Oh,” he said, suddenly changing tone. “It appears I did not hit ‘send.’”

“See?” you said triumphantly, trying to get past him to look at his screen, his futile attempts to keep you from looking failing. He tried to erase the message quickly but you read it just in time, blushing again at what he would’ve sent you.

He shook his head as if shaking off the embarrassment of his unnecessary theatrics. “This changes nothing. You should have known where to come and to obey me as soon as you saw the last message.”

You smiled at him, amused that he did not yet have the poise nor the patience that his older brothers had as head of the Satanic Church. He might’ve had a few forehead wrinkles, but sometimes he reminded you of a younger man. He certainly had the impetuousness and stamina of one.

You stepped back into the room, hooking one leg seductively over the leather armchair in the corner, exposing your upper thigh through the slit in your habit. “That’s right,” you said, running with his game. “I was so disrespectful to not heed your call right away.” You took off your veil, tossing your hair back and running your hands through it to smooth down the flyaways.

As you were busy trying to look as seductive as possible, he slid right up next to you, his hand reaching through the slit in your habit. He inhaled the scent of your hair and groaned under his breath, his hand pawing at the hem of your panties. His hand trailed against the cloth, feeling your wetness already saturating it.

“I thought of you all day,” you whispered against his neck, feeling his breath on your cheek, the smell of his spearmint gum washing over you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders affectionately.

“I can tell,” he said. His touch could be so soft and delicate – when he wanted to be – he had already snuck two fingers past the hem of your panties at your entrance. He brought his hand up his under his nose, thumbing your slick in between his fingers. He turned you around roughly and unzipped your dress in one motion. He tore the fabric off you, exposing you in nothing but your bra and underwear.

“Take them off,” he said, gesturing towards your panties. You obeyed swiftly, and tossed them to the side, wearing nothing but your bra now. As you did that, he took off his belt and kicked off his shoes. He folded his belt and snapped it, almost threateningly.

You eyed the belt from the side, your arms steadying you against the armchair. He had never used a belt on you before; you were only used to the palm of his hand, and he was usually quite gentle.

He saw the glimmer of fear in your eyes and came up behind you, placing the belt on the arm of the chair beside your elbow. “I’ll be gentle for today, amore,” he assured, slipping his hand between your thighs, teasing your wet entrance again. Instinctively, your shoulders relaxed and you sighed, relieved.

“But still you must be punished, no?” He took your chin in his free hand, forcing your face to the side, closer to his lips. You nodded in his hand, moaning slightly as his fingertips roamed around, pushing inside your entrance teasingly. “You see how horny you make me, mmh?” he whispered into your ear, groaning on the last syllable. He pressed his clothed erection against your bare ass, his cock twitching in his pants.

“Open,” he commanded, squeezing your mouth open. He gathered up a wad of saliva in his mouth and spat into your mouth, then clamped your mouth shut again. “Swallow.” You gulped. “That’s Papa’s brava ragazza. You’ll do anything I say.”

You eagerly anticipated his next move, wanting to feel his warm seed rush inside you after waiting all day for him, while simultaneously wanting him to take his sweet time antagonizing you and denying you your pleasure.

“What is my punishment, Papa?” you asked enthusiastically, hoping for him to continue using you.

“I think naughty girls deserve to get spanked by their Papa, don’t you?”

You whimpered slightly and nodded, your chin still in his tight grasp. “Yes Papa,” you feigned lament, hanging your head slack in his palm.

He released his grasp on you and withdrew his fingertips from your cunt, and you slumped over the armchair, holding yourself up by your elbows.

“You disobeyed me today,” he said warningly, palming your ass forcefully – yet still softly – massaging the area before striking again. You nodded in agreement. He cracked his belt again for dramatic effect. Crack! This time the leather hit you harder than his hand, stinging your skin a little. CRACK. You moaned louder, feeling the pain more now. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you mia piccola puttana?” he laughed, sticking his middle finger inside your cunt and feeling more wetness trickle out. He took his finger out and wiped your juices on your back before continuing.

Relentlessly he continued, spewing various obscenities at you in Italian. “Who do you belong to, whore?” he kept asking. “You, Papa!” you would shout through stifled yelps. Every few strokes he would sneak in a gentle touch to your raw skin, soothing the redness.

“You come to me when called next time,” he said. “I do not have all day to wait for some filthy slut to pleasure me. Nor do I have the time to take care of myself day in and day out.” He threw the belt to the side, opting for a more personal touch.

You whined in agreement, preparing for the next strike.

SMACK! he spanked you harder with the palm of his hand. “Mmm!” you mumbled, your flesh throbbing. SMACK! he struck you again.

“I am in meetings all day tomorrow,” he continued as if he was not ruthlessly punishing you and just striking up normal conversation. SMACK.

“Ah! Mmm – then I will be waiting for you here when you return after a long day.”

“No, you’ll be on your knees like the good little slut you are,” he said. Smack!

“But Sister will see – ah! – and anyone else in the room – ” you began but he stopped you.

“Silence!” he hissed, striking your ass once more, even harder this time. “It’s time you put your whore mouth to use and show everyone who you belong to, who you worship.”

All you could do was nod in agreement as he struck you across the ass again. Your skin was raw and aching, and you longed for a more delicate touch. Almost as if reading your mind, it seemed Terzo had ceased the punishments – for now. You peeked behind you and saw him hurriedly take off his clothes. Soon he was undressed, and soothingly caressing the red skin on your rear.

“Are you well, amore?” he asked in dulcet tones, lulling you into relaxation. “I know that was rougher than usual.” He touched your back comfortingly.

You trembled, still holding yourself up against the armchair, but nodded assuredly.

“Good,” he said, inching closer. You could feel the head of his erection prod against your thigh as he leaned in close to your ear. “We aren’t through. Are you ready to be bred like a brood mare by your Papa?”

You gasped as he took you from behind and grabbed you roughly by the hips. He pummeled into you uncompromisingly and determined. There was no graceful entry like when you usually made love; this one was a furious desperation of a man who needed carnal pleasure immediately. “Fuck – Terzo!” you exclaimed, adjusting to his length.

“Take it, whore! That’s it, Papa’s little cum rag. So fucking tight, Lucifer – fuck – cazzo!” he grunted through rough thrusts. You were that tight because he had not worked you up enough in between your punishment and his pleasure. Eventually after a dozen thrusts, you acclimated to his rhythm and pushed back into his cock when he rammed into you. That drove him wild. He cried out an indiscernible, animalistic noise that turned into a laugh. “Oh fuck – Satanas you do it so good – fuck –”

It always pleased you to hear your usually eloquent Papa turn into someone who could barely speak, all because he was inside you, bewitched. Your head spun and face flushed as he continued to pound into you, gripping your hips tighter and tighter until you could feel a warm liquid drip down the sides of your thighs. He was still going – he hadn’t cum yet…

He hastily grasped around your neck and clutched at your breasts until firmly grabbing your shoulder with his left hand, holding you tightly in place, and you smelled iron. You glanced down at your chest and saw bloody fingerprints across your skin. Sticky and metallic, the sensation hit you, making you dizzy. His right hand trailed across your thigh around to your front, smearing more blood along your side to your front.

He deftly parted your labia and circled your clit with his fingertips, mixing your blood with your cum and using it to glide over your sensitive bud.

You moaned, unable to speak clearly. You continued clutching onto the armchair for support, feeling weak at the knees. “Yes – right there – ” you muttered as he delicately fingered you while ruthlessly thrusting into your cunt from behind. You cried out in passion as he hit your g-spot and you could feel your orgasm was close.

“Esatto, ecco la mia brava ragazzina. Vieni per me, mio angelo del peccato.” As he rammed into you with precision, his breathing quickened until he was moaning your name. “Ho bisogno di te, ho…bisogno – di – te,” he stifled, cock quivering inside you.

You shuddered under him, your body trembling as you came. Your body rocked against his chest and he kept his rhythm, never breaking away from his hold on you. You cried out in ecstasy and slumped forward further over the arm of the chair, spent and breathless.

Wasting no time, he grabbed onto your elbows to pull you closer and thrust into you harder and faster. “Your cunt will be full of my seed – fuck!” he said. You yelped, wanting to relax but he drove through you to his climax, his warm cum coating your walls and seeping out onto your thighs. He groaned, finishing out his high on three final slow thrusts, until he collapsed on top of you. The both of you lay in a crumpled heap on top of the chair for a moment, catching your breath.

“Merda!” he exclaimed, pleased. He kissed your shoulder blade then got up, pulling out of you finally. He crouched down beside you and tucked your now unkempt hair behind your ear. “How is la mia principessa, hm?”

You nodded and smiled, closing your eyes contentedly but unable to speak just yet.

“Ah shit,” he said, looking you over and realizing you were bleeding from where his nails dug in too tightly around your hips. He picked you up and threw you over his shoulder and took you into the bathroom, sitting you down by the bathtub.

“Ah,” you muttered, wincing. Your rear end was still throbbing from earlier and the cuts in your thighs were stinging.

He rummaged through the drawers and pulled out antiseptic, cotton balls, and bandages. He took a washcloth from the cupboard and ran it under the tap. He knelt down beside you and wiped away the bloody fingerprints all over your body. He wiped off the wounds on your thighs with such tender care you would not have guessed he was the same man fucking you senseless just moments ago. He put antiseptic on a cotton ball and swiped your cuts.

“Ouch!” you mumbled, the stinging overwhelming for a few seconds before subsiding.

“I am sorry I got overzealous, amore. You just make me so fucking crazy.” He opened the bandages and gently smoothed them over your skin, careful not to reignite the pain.

“It’s okay, love.” You smoothed back his hair and gazed lovingly into his eyes. He glanced down at your entrance, still leaking with his cum from moments ago. “It didn’t take,” you said.

“Mm?”

“I went back on the pill last week.”

“I know, tesoro. I saw the pill pack on the counter. It is fun to pretend.” He kissed your forehead.

Italian to English Translations

ovviamente (obviously)

[Where else] potrei scoparti in pieno giorno cosi forte da dimenticarti il tuo nome? (“[Where else] could I fuck you so hard in broad daylight you’d forget your name?”)

Amore (love/my love)

Amorina (love/sweetheart)

brava ragazza (good girl)

mia piccola puttana (my little slut)

cazzo (fuck)

Esatto, ecco la mia brava ragazzina. Vieni per me, mio angelo del peccato. (That’s right, my good little girl. Cum for me, my angel of sin.)

Ho bisogno di te (I need you)

Merda (shit)

la mia principessa (my princess)

tesoro (treasure)

[blackbird5154]

I'd like to talk about why Rite Here Rite Now has script problems (as well as Ghost lore in general).

Even taking into account that this is a concert movie, a movie in which the presentation of the characters is of secondary importance, there are still certain requirements to that presentation. Over the years, we have been told a story. There is an expectation that there is some consistency in that story: causes must produce effects. I'm talking about the point that in a “good story” the actions of the characters have consequences. If a cold-blooded murder occurs, the characters responsible must either go through an arc of remorse or receive some sort of retribution for their actions. You can't kill three iconic characters and just forget about that and move on. The consequences can be different, depending on how the author wants to develop this theme. But they have to be.

I'm not really clear on how Tobias is developing Copia. The first time he appeared, he threatened Terzo behind his back and promised to stomp him into the dirt. You can still find that video on the official Instagram. Obviously, he was involved in the murder that Sister organized and had a vested interest, or maybe he was even an executioner himself. Either way, he ascended to the position over the corpses of his predecessors, and that's clearly what he was aiming for. Even the introduction to RHRN shows him as a maximally selfish character who thinks only of his own success and survival: he believes that he is a better entertainer than his brothers and that he doesn't deserve the same fate. However, the movie tries to instill in us that Copia is a good man who is worthy of sympathy and hope that his fate will be better than his predecessors. I wonder why exactly he has earned such privileges.

Sister Imperator is portrayed from the beginning to the very end as an overbearing, dominant, cruel woman. She obviously hated the brothers and didn't just organize their murder, but did it with relish (a cruel joke just before the injection). She has taken over all the remaining characters, becoming the de facto leader of the Clergy, and has succeeded in building her empire. She controls Copia's every step and also tells Nihil what to do. Yes, we're shown the motherly side of Sister in the movie: she seems to really love her son and wants to leave him an empire to inherit. But that doesn't atone for her cruel behavior, sadism and the crimes she has committed in the past.

Nihil is shown as an irresponsible and weak-willed man, an unreliable lover, a careless father who allows his sons to die. He tends to wallow in fantasies, replacing reality with them and allowing horrific events to happen literally in front of his nose. He was a bad father to his official sons and a bad father to Copia. He is probably the only one in the movie who went through personal growth: he was finally able to talk to his youngest son, finally became a good father to him. But his older sons are still dead and it doesn't seem to be a problem for him.

Apparently, Tobias decided to move from more gory plots to more family-oriented ones. All three characters are now presented as a caring, somewhat weird, but loving family. Their past has been left out of the picture. They haven't drawn conclusions from their mistakes, they haven't atoned for their wrongs, they haven't gotten what they deserve. The screenwriter seems to have forgotten that the members of this family recently killed each other with minimal regret. It doesn't matter now, because the previous characters are just “taxodermically propped up” stuff. The woman who manipulated other people and destroyed everyone who stood in the way of her ambitious plans, dies a peaceful death in the family circle, having achieved all her goals and leaving an inheritance to her son. A happy ending for the sadistic bitch. She's now a positive character, and her peaceful death closes the possibility for a fairer ending to this arc.

Copia who all along demonstrated passivity, infantilism and inability to make any decision, also got his happy ending. You may feel differently about Copia, but I still remember him wearing Terzo's white gloves in concert like some kind of trophy. I remember him threatening Terzo in a tape deck commercial. Why have we all collectively decided to forget that? This is a man who got everything for free, thanks to his mother's patronage. We're even shown how he spends his free time: playing video games, loafing around and avoiding adult responsibilities like paying bills. He just goes with the flow, accepting the blood-stained regalia that is handed to him. And now once again we see another promotion just falling into his lap. What did he do to deserve it? Yes, I agree, he did a good job on stage during his eras. So did the First, the Second and the Third! However, now they are “taxodermically propped up” and he is Frater Imperator.

Apparently Tobias is now targeting a younger audience and use a more pedagogical style. If this is true, perhaps he should have shown how the characters take responsibility for their past. The statement “live here and now, stop thinking about the past” sounds immoral coming from the mouths of characters who have committed multiple murders and have not repented of them. Injustice and inconsistency are two words that come to mind when I think about how this story ended. Sometimes I feel like these characters are just plastic toys for Tobias to play with, and in the process he forgets where the game started.

The problem is that some do remember. Some remember everything.

[ghoulette-knell]

A Little Bit Tipsy:

Aether x Fem!Reader

You and Aether have some unspoken tension due to being so close to him throughout the Prequelle tour. A little bit of alcohol proves to loosen your tongue.

🔞MDNI🔞

TW: Drunk/High Sex; Friends to Lovers; Soft!Dom Aether; Hair-Pulling; Marking; Animalistic Sex (honestly from all of the sexual tension); Oral (male receiving); Dirty Talk; Fingering (female receiving); No Protection; Biting.

Word Count: 5,566

You and Aether, your best friend, were a little bit tipsy. Yeah, a little bit more than tispy...

The tour that Ghost had spent months travelling around the globe had just concluded for the week, so the two of you decided to drink and celebrate the fantastic performances. There had been some unspoken tensions between you and him for a while now, and you were feeling bold tonight. The two of you have been drinking for a few hours now, and although Ghouls had a higher tolerance for most things than humans, the two of you were beginning to feel the affects of the alcohol.

Aether took a small drink of his beer, which was his favourite beverage. His soft, amber eyes glanced at you through his silver mask as a short stream of foam floated down his glass, "I hope the Cardinal doesn't mind us hanging out. It's so deep in the tour at this point. I know the old man hates when we get distracted or take time off practicing.”

“Screw him,” you mumbled tiredly while leaning back against the couch, taking a shot of whiskey while staring off towards the wall, “I’m getting sick of his schedule for us Ghouls. He likes to believe that we don’t have social lives and we are just mindless drones, here to simply perform in his band.”

You had always been a little bit too outspoken when it came to Copia. Even though you were right in what you said, Aether didn't want to say it out loud and risk getting into trouble.

"I don’t think Cardinal Copia is necessarily in the wrong. He just doesn't care about our social lives. The band is all that matters to him."

Aether let out a small laugh, “And I think it's true. We're all replaceable after all."

You couldn't help but wince at Aether's last sentence. You were all replaceable... all of you.

You had been a member of the band when Ifrit was still the lead guitarist before young Sodo had come along. You and Aether both had been around before Copia had even come around, and Terzo had been the frontman, as well as the anti-pope of the ministry. Yet, so many of your friends had been replaced... Ifrit, Pebble, Omega. The list goes on and on.

None of you even knew why they had been replaced. It was simply done at random, which was what made moments like this scary. Would the Cardinal just replace everyone if they pissed him off?

"I don't like to think about that, Aether," you mumbled while leaning forward and grabbing your freshly-rolled joint off the table.

"I know," Aether responded softly, "But that’s why we can't become too careless and get attached. We'll get hurt that way. It's a damn shame that I'm already pretty attached to you. It'll really suck… if anything happens to either of us.”

He took another sip of his beer before speaking again, "Copia loves to remind us that we can be easily replaced. I get it, he likes having an air of authority over us. He likes to manipulate us into feeling grateful that we're in his band.”

"I want to get attached though," you mumbled, almost inaudible as you flicked your lighter to get your blunt lit, "I want to have lifelong friends in this band. I know I have you, but we have to keep our deep friendship a secret. I don't want to get sent back to Hell if I mess up one too many times. I don't want to get separated from you, Aether. That would be a fate worse than death."

His eyebrows raised at your last sentence. "Worst than death?"

You peered into his eyes and nodded. You meant what you said. You wouldn't get sent back to Hell without Aether. It just simply wasn't something that you would let happen. Not even Lucifer could pull you away from the rhythm guitarist.

Aether's mind was suddenly abuzz with countless thoughts. Was she just saying this because she was inebriated? Or was she genuinely implying something else?

He looked away for a moment, a bit embarrassed by his reddened cheeks, before he looked back to you, "Are you drunk?"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. You hadn't expected this conversation to go in this direction, and honestly, the alcohol was to blame. You rarely let your stressors come afloat, especially around any of the other Ghouls. It was a sign of weakness, and you weren't weak by a longshot. However, you trusted Aether, and the alcohol definitely helped loosen that tongue of yours.

You flicked your tail slightly and took a drag from your blunt, coughing slightly as the smoke hit your lungs, "A little bit, but that doesn't change how I feel about any of this."

Aether seemed surprised by your answer, but you could see in his face that his eyebrow was not raised in judgment at all. Instead, he was taking a good long look at you, as if he was sizing you up. His cheeks were still red, which was a little strange for him.

He laughed softly, not making eye contact with you, "Does that mean you're genuinely afraid of losing me?"

You offered him a hit off of your blunt, unsure about whether or not he would take it. The alcohol was indeed making your tongue a bit looser than normal, but Aether did know how much he meant to you. He had to know how you felt about him.

"Yes. I don't want to ever lose you," you replied without hesitation, "If you got replaced and I was forced to stay in this band without you... I don't know what I would do. Whoever your replacement would be, I would hate them just because they replaced you. You are my best friend."

Aether took the offered joint, still not holding eye contact. This was a new side of you that he had never really seen before. Normally, you would try to hide the fact that you cared about him. You were very stoic whenever it came to things like this.

But tonight, you were telling him. No hiding it. In fact, there was something else there too...

Aether finally met your gaze, taking a long drag from the marijuana before speaking, "You know, you talk about me as if you’re in love with me."

You were completely speechless.

You didn't know how to respond.

Were you in love with Aether? You had always assumed it was some kind of puppy love phase that you were going through, or maybe a way to escape the harsh reality regarding the Satanic ministry that you lived to serve. It was a very stressful atmosphere, after all. Aether always offered a bit of relief, and often grounded you during moments like this.

"You act as if that's a surprise," you whispered after a few seconds, expelling smoke from your mouth and taking a few sips from your alcoholic beverage that sat on the coffee table.

You brain was beginning to buzz, which made your eyes slowly relax and sag.

Aether sat in silence for a couple of seconds. When he finally did speak, it was only to ask a single question. One that he had never asked before. One that had remained unspoken for so, so long.

"Do you love me?"

You licked your lips nervously and adverted your gaze down to the carpeted floor below. Suddenly, you were feeling shy and bashful.

Some thoughts you'd had about this exact moment began to eat at your stomach; scratching at it like a wild, caged animal. What if he wouldn't like you back?

You could handle the rejection. If that was the scenario, that would be manageable. Just swallow your sadness and pride, and keep going on with life as if it never happened. What you couldn't handle was a confession leading to awkwardness, and inevitably the end of your precious friendship with Aether.

This confession was beyond what you ever believed you could say to the other Ghoul.

“I suppose I do, yeah. I do love you, Aether.”

You took another sip of your drink, trying to advert your attention away from that risky confession. The alcohol was beginning to cause a vague cloud of haze to envelop your brain as you sat and waited for his response.

It was an agonizing wait. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like hours.

Aether finally closed his eyes, his cheeks a bright shade of red. His lips curled up into a tiny smile; his little fangs poking from his lips. He couldn't help but feel his heart swell in his chest, even though you weren't exactly looking at him right now.

His breath grew a little bit shaky when he finally spoke up again, but he was still a bit shy to make eye contact for now, "And you're sure this isn't just the drinking talking?"

You slowly brought your eyes back up to meet Aether’s, and shook your head, “You’ve known me for almost a year now, Aether. You have to know how I’ve felt about you all this time.”

Aether hadn’t said he loved you back though. Was he procrastinating? Did he not want to hurt your feelings? Why hadn’t he said it back yet?

His cheeks had grown even redder now. You'd certainly never seen him blush this much before. He laughed a little bit, his eyes now locked with yours, "I guess I thought this might have been a drunk confession... But I should have had a little more faith in you. My apologies."

Finally, he took a deep breath. He couldn't help the feeling of his heart beating so fast in his chest. He finally managed to say it.

"I love you too."

The instant relief that hit your body was unreal. The mix between the adrenaline rush over admitting your love to Aether, as well as the alcohol was slowly sinking away as those three perfect words left the Ghoul’s lips.

“Now it’s my turn to ask… that’s not just the booze talking, right?” you whispered, your cheeks flushing red to perfectly match the shade of red that was on Aether’s cheeks.

Aether couldn't do anything except chuckle. If anything, he was a little bit surprised that you would ask if this was just the alcohol speaking.

"Oh no, this is totally the booze talking," he said jokingly, only to be interrupted by a soft laugh. The colour had drained for your face, as you hadn’t realized off the bat that this was a joke.

The ghoul then quickly closed the distance between you two, making eye contact with you before leaning forward and placing a kiss on your forehead.

"No, I'm definitely not drunk… well, I'm a little drunk, but I feel this way sober too. I do love you, and I'm so glad you feel the same about me."

You leaned into his touch immediately. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you were almost certain that Aether could hear it.

You couldn’t help it, though. Aether made you flustered no matter what he was doing.

Your cheeks flushed brighter as his lips grazed your forehead; your face turning upwards.

Your lips were only inches away from each other. You could feel Aether’s breath on your face; smell the beer on his breath. You could physically see the drunken desire beginning to cloud over his eyes.

“Are you sober enough to consent to me kissing you?” you asked huskily; your hand cupping his cheek in a loving, yet desirable manner.

Aether was certainly not used to the way you were acting right now. The way that you were leaning into him. Your hand cupping his cheek. The way that your lips were just inches away from his. This was different than usual.

"Am I sober enough?" he smirked, his own hands tracing up to your waist, one wrapping around it and pulling you closer, "I'm not sure. You should probably kiss me just to check. Just to make sure."

You exhaled and leaned forward, the multiple shots of whisky guiding your every move. You felt as if you could start crying from sheer happiness over this moment! This was beyond anything you ever believed could happen. Your lips sheepishly brushed against his; your heart leaping into you throat. Your claws slowly crept around and gripped at Aether's neck as you finally pressed your lips fully onto his. No brushing. No teasing. Right to the point.

Your kisses were certainly a lot more passionate than Aether was used to. It was almost as if you had lost yourself in some kind of trance. Your hands were holding him very tightly, your lips pressed firmly against his. Your lips were very soft and your breath was sweet; a hint of whisky combining with the scent of toothpaste.

The ghoul was surprised at the way that you took the initiative, but you could almost see a glint in his eyes as he kissed you back.

While moaning, you nibbled hungrily on his lips as your kisses quickly morphed into something more hungry… more passionate. Tongues dancing together, you slowly began to climb into Aether's lap, pushing him deeper into the couch. Your breath was coming out in ragged, lustful gasps as you would occasionally abandon the Ghoul's lips for a breath of air. That was rare though. Aether's lips were like the fountain of youth that you had been searching for your entire life. You didn't want to leave it ever again.

"You taste so good," you groaned while sucking on his bottom lip; a mischievous look in your eyes.

Your kisses were certainly making Aether feel things that he had never felt before in his entire life. Never mind the fact that all of this was coming from you—little, shy (Y/N). To see you taking such a brazen initiative was exciting.

As you abandoned his lips again for a breath of air, he chuckled softly, "I love how hungry you are for me right now."

Before you could speak again, Aether grabbed a fistful of your hair.

Before you could speak again, Aether grabbed a fistful of your hair.

Your eyes snapped shut as a small moan left your lips. A chuckle left his lips as Aether pulled roughly on my hair, eating up your reaction. You could see that the beer was making the usually docile and harmless Ghoul turn into something more. The lust in his eyes was unreal, and it excited you more than you ever knew you were capable of.

"A-Aeth!" you groaned, using the nickname you had given him when the two of us originally met all that time ago.

The Ghoul pulled your hair slightly, angling it to the side so your neck would cock with it. His swollen lips (swollen, from how aggressively you were making out with him only moments ago) immediately began to attack your sensitive flesh, leaving little purple and blue bruises on your pale skin.

Aether's eyes were now completely closed as his mouth worked its way up your neck, forcing the sweetest noises to leave your lips. He wanted to mark you. He wanted you to be his and only his. No one should be allowed the joy of having access to your soft, delicate skin.

"That's a good girl," Aether breathed out softly, moving one of his hands to massage your chest. He squeezed softly at your breasts, causing a breath to hitch in your throat. "You love when I mark your flesh, am I right?"

You leaned back, your eyes rolling into the back of your head while adjusting the weight on the rhythm guitarist's lap.

"Y-Yes. I want all the others to know I belong to you," you whispered, your words slightly slurring together thanks to your drunken state, as well as the lust that was pooling in your abdomen, "I l-love when you mark me!"

As he slowly continued caressing your chest, he leaned forward and moved his mouth back to your neck.

"I'm glad you want to belong to me," he murmured, "Now… show me how much you love me."

Your stomach clenched in excitement.

You knew exactly what Aether wanted.

He wanted your mouth.

You slowly kissed his lips one more time; savouring his taste. Then, you slipped off of his lap and got onto your knees on the floor; staring up at the Ghoul in desire. You rested your face on his thigh while squeezing it softly with your hand, "Tell me what you want, then."

Aether had a smug look on his face now. He sat there comfortably, leaning back on the couch, not expecting you to fall to your knees and do as he asked. It was such a sharp contrast from the timid, shy girl you were at first. Now, he could really tell that his words had had an effect on your behaviour. You were certainly behaving as someone completely different right now.

He smirked down at you, his voice laced with excitement, as he responded, "I want to be worshipped."

You purred and allowed your hands to drift upwards towards his belt, "Oh, I can worship you, that's for sure."

You quickly unclasped his belt and unzipped his pants. You could immediately see his white boxers which were holding your prize. You carefully pawed at them to lightly tease the Ghoul, earning a few grunts from his lips. You could already see the blood beginning to pool in his cock, which was only separated from you by that thin fabric.

Aether let out a sharp gasp suddenly as your cold hand dove into his boxers; grasping his cock lightly. As soon as you did, he could feel a rush of heat pool through his body. Your touch was making him feel very hot and tingly. Every inch of his body was pulsing with excitement from your touch.

He let out another soft moan as he watched you completely pull his boxers away, forcing them down to his knees. “You're definitely making me feel like a God right now…"

You giggled innocently while batting your eyelashes up at him as you got a good look at what he was concealing. Your mouth watered slightly; your eyes never leaving his dick.

"I'll worship you more than I worship Lucifer himself, my sweet Aether," you whispered while placing your hands delicately upon his thighs, "I don't care what punishments await me for saying that. You are all I live for, and all I die for."

Aether felt his breath grow hot and heavy.

You leaned on him while carefully grasping his dick in your palm; teasingly stroking it. Your vision was hazy and dark, yet even though you were as drunk as physically possible right now, you knew you wanted this. Aether wanted it too. This was written in the stars. The two of you were handpicked by Lucifer to be a part of the Emeritus ministry, and you were handpicked to be life partners. This was all beyond your understanding, and neither of you were against this.

Aether's eyes were clouded with unbridled lust as he watched you begin to pleasure him,

"Open up, sweetheart," he purred while stroking the side of your face with gentle fingers, "I want to see what else your mouth can do besides sing pretty notes."

Like the obedient Ghoul you were, you complied without hesitation. You firmly grasped Aether's shaft, and slowly licked up the length; from his balls to his tip.

Aether closed his eyes at the sensation, his entire being humming with arousal. He let out a soft moan, his fingers twitching slightly.

Your tongue then began to swirl around Aether’s sensitive flesh, “Mmm,” you mumbled while puckering your lips and lightly peppering kisses across the head of his dick; sucking lightly, “You look like you’re enjoying this.”

Aether shivered at the light suction combined with your tongue swirling around his cock; the shaft beginning to twitch impatiently. He gasped, unable to speak, his hips beginning to move involuntarily.

“Yeah... I am."

As his hips began to move, you knew that you had Aether wrapped around your finger. The Ghoul was so sensative to touch right now, thanks to the alcohol that the two of you had drank, and your lips felt like the most enticing experience in the world. So, you kept going.

You giggled lightly, finally taking Aether completely into your mouth; the tip grazing across your uvula. You gagged slightly, but didn’t let up.

You secretly hoped that Aether wouldn’t face fuck you right now with all the whiskey slushing around in your stomach… it would be a huge turn off to puke all over his dick.

Aether's eyes rolled back in his head as he moaned loudly. He couldn't believe how good this felt. His hands tangled into your hair, holding you close while his hips bucked against the other Ghoul's face.

You sputtered and placed your hands on Aether’s thighs, coming up for a breath. As you gasped for air, a stream of drool trickled down your lips, causing his dick to twitch at the mere sight of you.

“Fuckkkk, you’re so hot,” Aether groaned, his eyes lighting up as he watched you drool, “The way you take my dick is divine.”

A blush flushed over your cheeks at Aether’s words. Some pre-cum was beginning to bead at the tip of the quintessential Ghoul’s tip, and without hesitation, you lightly licked the surface; collecting the salty liquid on your tongue.

A groan left Aether’s mouth at the sight.

“I love making you feel good,” you whispered while taking him back in your mouth again; sloppily bobbing your head up and down on his length.

Aether cried out in pleasure, his back arching as you fully took him into your mouth. His fingers intertwined with your hair, tugging lightly to assist in deepening his thrusts.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he growled while letting out a low groan, "You feel so good wrapped around my cock... oh, fuck!"

It pleased you greatly... those little noises leaving your lover's mouth due to how good you were making him feel. This is all you've wanted for the past year of knowing the rhythm guitarist. You'd wanted to make him feel good, and hear these little words of encouragement flow from his lips. You were in heaven right now.

"Good boy," you whispered while gasping for air; saliva and pre-cum mix beginning to dribble down your swollen lips, "I love when you moan for me. Do I make you feel good?"

Another groan left Aether's lips at your dirty words; his cock twitching irritably, "You do… You make me feel so good, sweetheart. No mouth can compare to yours."

That was true. You were good with your mouth, sure, but there were also other factors that made this feel good for the Ghoul. The bond you two shared.

This wasn't just some drunken one-night stand. This was the combination of two twin flames… two soul mates. This was fate being decided, and that made everything you did feel so much better than even Aether was anticipating.

You lightly kissed the tip of Aether's cock before dipping your head back onto it.

You moaned reflexively on his length, the vibrations causing immense pleasure to assault the older Ghoul's cock. Aether cried out once more, his hips jerking forward as he felt your throat tighten around him.

You could tell the quintessential Ghoul was beginning to get close. The way Aether was beginning to thrust his dick into your throat, as if he was getting ready to hit his peak was a telltale sign.

You continued to sloppily pleasure your friend's cock, certain to help Aether reach his orgasm. Your mouth watered in anticipation as you felt Aether's fingers tangle through your hair.

"F-Fuck, (Y/N)!" the Ghoul wheezed, his whole body growing stiff and rigid as he came. You reflexively gagged around the length getting shoved down your throat, as well as the steaming-hot liquid rushing towards your gut.

Aether slumped backwards on the couch, his chest aggressively rising and falling as your mouth slowly slipped from his dick.

You coughed lightly, some of Aether's cum streaming from your lips and onto the carpet below.

You fell from your knees and onto your ass, wiping the cum from your face with the back of your wrist; the cloudy liquid sticking to your flesh.

"You're not tired yet, right?" you asked, your voice hoarse from the intense blowjob that you had just given Aether.

Aether chuckled, his eyes soft as he stared down at you. He ran a hand through your hair and stroked your cheek with his thumb, "If you're still okay with continuing, then I am, sweetheart."

A groan left your throat, which sounded slightly like a purr, "Yeah, I want to keep going."

That was all Aether needed to hear. He shakily got to his feet and picked you up carefully from underneath your arms, hoisting you onto the couch.

Aether softly cupped your cheek with his hand, slowly capturing your lips in his. He could taste himself on your lips which had his dick springing back to life once again. He pushed you lightly against the back of the couch and began to feverishly remove your shirt. His arousal was peaking again, which made you grow increasingly excited.

You allowed the Ghoul to remove your shirt, exposing your cute, black bra. Aether was practically drooling at the sight of your supple, pale flesh.

Aether effortlessly unclasped your bra; his lips never leaving yours. You shivered slightly, your top half now fully exposed to the Ghoul, as well as to the chilling temperature of the room. Goosebumps appeared on your flesh, causing a low chuckle to leave Aether's throat.

"Goddamn, you're absolutely gorgeous," he whispered while carefully squeezing your breast into the palm of his hand, "I... am obsessed with you."

A blush ferociously flooded your cheeks, a moan threatening to leave your lips as Aether kneaded into your breasts lovingly, "You're just drunk. That's the alcohol talking," you murmured, grabbing the shaft of his cock with your hand, pumping it slowly.

A small groan left Aether's lips as you began to pump him, his left hand trailing down to begin unzipping your pants, "Trust me, this isn't the alcohol talking, honey. I have been obsessed with you, your personality... everything, ever since I met you. If this is the alcohol, then I'm chronically drunk."

You couldn't stop the small smirk from taking over your lips. You pushed your lips to his one more time, inhaling his scent as he pushed your pants and underwear off your legs, "You should go to alcohol's anonymous."

Aether rolled his eyes in amusement, twisting your nipple roughly in between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a little gasp of pleasure from your lips, "Shush. Not funny."

"It's a little funny," you argued while leaning back on the couch, your legs opening for the Ghoul.

Your mind was still foggy from pleasure as the Ghoul positioned himself in between your legs. You gasped, Aether's middle finger slowly stroking up your wet folds; your body shuddering from the sudden pleasure.

"You like that?" he murmured lowly while slowly stretching your leaking hole with two of his digits, moans spilling from your lips, "Does that feel good?"

"Y-Yes," you moaned slightly as Aether began to stroke your clit with his thumb. Slow and antagonizing movements... waves of pleasure.

Aether continued this teasing for a little bit longer, absolutely eating up the little noises coming from your lips. His fingers were almost pruned by the time he was rubbing his tip against your clenching hole.

"Tell me what you want me to do," he whispered while teasingly pushing the tip of his dick into your cunt, "What do you want me to do to you?"

You were suddenly bashful; your cheeks flushed with emotions. Swallowing a mouthful of saliva, you nodded up at him; locking eyes with him, "I... want you to fuck me, Aeth."

There was a hint of an impatient tone in your voice. It made sense though with all of Aether's teasing, and for how long the two of you have had all this built-up tension. The two of you have wanted this for a very long time.

Without hesitation, Aether leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You shook with anticipation as he lined his cock up with your hole before slowly pushing inside.

You hissed in mild discomfort from the stretch. Although you were plenty aroused and stretched due to Aether's fingering, it still wasn't painless.

Aether hesitated after sensing discomfort from you, "You okay?" he whispered, holding back the urge to buck his hips forward.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," you whispered while carefully grappling at the couch below, trying to hold on and ground yourself, "You can move. I'm fine."

Aether hesitated a moment more, but then slowly began to thrust in and out. Very slowly.

It was probably a good thing that the Ghoul had waited and moved like he did. Although you were confident you were okay, he made 100% sure that was true, and it was worth it.

Little moans began to escape your lips as the quintessential Ghoul began to pick up speed. He moaned, leaning into your chest as he moved in and out of your tight heat, his eyes slammed shut in pleasure.

"(Y/N)! F-Fuck! You feel so good!" Aether growled animalistically while abruptly pulling out and slamming back in, groaning into your ear.

You screamed in pleasure as Aether began to slam into your pussy; the pleasure was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Your sharp claws scratched and tore at Aether's back as he had his way with your cunt.

"A-Aeth! Faster! Harder!" you begged, drool dribbling down your lips from the sheer pleasure that your precious friend was giving to you, "I need you, n-now! Oh, fuck!"

As you begged Aether to ravage you, his movements began to speed up. Hips slapping against hips, he positioned his arm underneath your leg and propped it up on his shoulder, giving him more range to fuck you senseless.

"You like that, huh?" Aether asked breathlessly as he watched himself disappear in your heat, his heart hammering in his chest, "You like how I feel inside of you?"

Your fangs dug into his shoulder; his flesh absorbing the lewd sounds reverberating from your throat as he cut through me like a hot butter to a knife.

It sounded like you screamed 'yes' to the quintessential Ghoul's question, but he wasn't for sure.

A sudden scream erupted from your throat as Aether's dick slammed into your G-spot; the friction causing him to shudder from pleasure, "Oh, Lucifer!" he wheezed, digging his own fangs into your shoulder as he continued to pile drive your cunt.

"Fuck! Holy shit!" you howled into Aether's ear; your knees growing weak from the pleasure. It was a good thing you were lying on the couch, otherwise, you may have fallen from how weak your knees were at this point.

If it was even possible, Aether's thrusts began to grow wilder and wilder as more screams and moans left your mouth. Your pussy was making a wet, squelching sound, which proved to Aether that you weren't faking it.

Your moans were sharp and high-pitched; your toes curled as wave after wave of pleasure began to cause your abdomen to heat up. The sensation was almost too much for you to bear.

"A-Aeth, I think... I'm gonna cum!" you wheezed breathlessly, tears streaming from your eyes from the pleasure.

Aether shuddered as your walls began to clench around his cock, threatening to milk him dry. He was determined to take you over the edge, "T-Take my cum! Take it all!"

Without hesitation, he pushed all the way to the hilt. Your head rolled backwards, a string of incoherent words streaming from your lips as you felt Aether's cum coat your pussy. You came at the same time, a fiery pleasure coating your abdomen as you squeezed the cum from Aether's length.

"Fuck! FUCK!" you howled, latching onto Aether's shoulder with your fangs once more.

The two of you laid like that for a little while, just trying to catch your breath as you both came down from the pleasure high. You could taste blood. Looking down, you realized you had penetrated Aether's skin with your fangs drawing blood.

"Oh, shit. Are you okay?" you whispered while grabbing your discarded shirt; dabbing the blood away with the material, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

His lips met yours, a small chuckle leaving his lips, "Honey, I don't care. I don't even feel it. You made me feel the best that I ever have before. You could hit me with a car and I wouldn't bat an eye."

You giggled at how silly Aether was; savouring your kiss for as long as you could before slowly pushing the rhythm guitarist's cock from your gaping hole, "You're so dramatic."

"Maybe it's the alcohol?" Aether joked while covering yours and his naked bodies with a large blanket.

"Shut up," you mumbled while snuggling into his side; embracing your sweet companion like your life depended on it, "It's definitely the alcohol..."

[angellayercake]

Oh well @sakuraspoke if you insist on me rambling about Terzo who am I to refuse? ☺️

We know from some interview snippets about him that by the time he becomes papa he is bitter and he hates himself and he is somewhat of a recluse which is clearly a massive contradiction to the caring, entertaining, silly, sexy charmer we see on stage. That man seems a lot more in keeping with the description we see from Bishop Necropolitus Cracoviensis who describes Terzo during his time as a Cardinal. As being a visionary who cares for his flock and revels in sin.

So how did he get here and how does that relate to this song?

I think we can all agree that his hopes for what he would achieve during his reign as Papa were squashed very quickly. He clearly put up a fight and was starting to gain momentum by the end where perhaps he thought it might be possible (hence why he was dragged off stage, humiliated and murdered) but we can see that nothing really went to plan and this is what probably sent him down the spiral of depression and self hatred.

But to bring it all back to 'We'll never have sex'. He created a very specific persona that was very likable and charming and I have no doubt that those are aspects of his personality and he had no lack of partners within the Ministry and without. But they ONLY wanted the Charming Papa™ and when his darker side would reveal itself, his self loathing and dissatisfaction they would run for the hills, if they even stayed long enough to see it. Because he is Papa right? Sex god leader of the Satanic Church, champion of the female orgasm, he is above wanting to be loved or cared for.

He is lonely, depressed, hopeless and desperate for some connection. So he keeps up the facade, keeps accepting the one night stands and casual propositions just to stave off the loneliness for a night or two until he just can't anymore. He closes himself off and comes to terms with the fact that no one will ever want just him.

This is all my standard headcanon for him in general and most of my fics unless otherwise stated but this also leads specifically into banchetto so I will put that under a read more in case anyone doesn't care about that bit 😁

This is basically where he is emotionally at the beginning of Banchetto underneath the hurt about his removal from his position and his brothers interference etc.

So why does he do what he does to poor reader? Well I think personally he has forgotten how to relate to people romantically other than sex. He hasn't had a traditional 'relationship' for many many years probably since he was a very young man and first learned about falling in love and heartbreak.

When he realises that reader is attracted to him he also finds her a distraction from wallowing in his depression and even though he had grown to hate no strings sex he falls back on that easy seduction to give him that taste of connection he craves. That is until he realises how much he hurt her by playing with her and that's when he realises

1. He may have found someone who really does care for HIM not what they can get from Papa. She has seen him at his worst. Complete rock bottom and still she cares?

2. He is beginning to care for her too. He looks forward to seeing her everyday and the light she brings into his life. He wakes up earlier so he can be up as soon as she arrives and he wracks his brains for question after question so he can justify following her around as she works. It's only when she disappears for that week after he cornered her that he realises this though.

And this is why they are taking it so slowly (aside from the fact she really does have a job to do which he tends to forget and at this point has completely forgotten). She has picked up on the fact that this is unfamiliar territory for him and really there is no need to rush right? What could possibly bring their happy little domestic bubble to be popped??? 😈

On that note I will leave it there. If you have got this far I love you 😚😚

[cumulo-ghoulll]

Papa HCs!

(I think they're all autistic)

Primo

Primo likes to spend a lot of time by himself or with his ghouls. He doesn't care for social gatherings and likes to keep himself to himself. He's fairly good at small talk but he absolutely hates it. When he was younger, Primo masked a lot. He tried to be outgoing, which was expected of him, especially because he was very open about his desire to be the frontman of the project. He'd finish each day absolutely exhausted. He'd have no energy to do the things he enjoyed, instead he spent a lot of time stuck in bed or dissociating in front of a mirror. It was only until he met his ghouls that he learnt how to take care of himself. His ghouls taught him about preserving his social battery, how to avoid burn out, and most importantly, that they care about him and are always happy to help him. Now that he's older, he's got a lot better at taking care of his wellbeing and asking for help when he needs it. His favourite part of getting old is that people don't care what he does or how he behaves as much as they did when he was younger. Now, when he spends all day in his greenhouse, no one questions what he's doing, or when he stares at the flames in his fireplace, people assume he's just doing 'generic old man things', whereas those close to him know that he's stimming.

Secondo

Secondo has very little problem with big social gatherings and loves to be the life and soul of the party. He loves meeting new people at parties too. Secondo has a hard time holding down relationships with people, both romantically and platonically. He loves having hookups though as it gives him a chance to be close to someone while them going separate ways afterwards is expected. Secondo is aroace, which usually shocks most people he tells. He does try to explain that his lack of sexual attraction doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy sex, and he enjoys doing romantic things even though he doesn't feel romantic attraction either, but people very rarely understand. Secondo likes being a sugar daddy. The rules and boundaries are very clear and he gets what he wants out of relationships without genuine romantic interest being expected. He also has a platonic partner who visits him on a schedule. They both organise what they're going to do when they next meet up a week in advance to give him plenty of time to prepare.

Terzo

Terzo masked HARD when he was younger. Nihil constantly made remarks about how he behaved, especially about how flamboyant he was. He was told off for being rude a lot, but used to get really annoyed when no one would explain what he'd actually done wrong. He spent a lot of time learning the 'correct' and 'acceptable' way to interact with people. Because of how much he masked, he was constantly burnt out and later developed depression and self worth issues. Terzo began to isolate himself. Like they asked, he stopped being loud, he stopped being flamboyant, and he stopped being rude. He actually stopped speaking all together. After all this, Sister and Nihil still seemed to have a problem with him. He didn't know what he was doing wrong. His self worth issues stayed with him the whole way through his life. Being dragged off stage was the final piece of proof he needed that he wasn't and never would be good enough for his parents or anyone.

Copia

Copia has always been the 'weird kid'. His obsession with rats was usually enough to put most people off. Unlike Terzo, a lot of Copia's behaviour was excused, so he never felt the need to mask. Terzo didn't particularly like Copia in the brief time they knew each other because of this. Copia picks up sarcasm and jokes with ease and both come very easily to him. On the other hand, social cues, having to read between the lines, and oftentimes, other people's innuendos go right over his head. He spends a lot of time in his room, not necessarily to avoid people but moreso for the fact he keeps all his favourite things in his room on display. Copia has a lot of sensory aversions. His costume designer and tailor have a list of fabrics they cannot use. Copia also has a lot of food aversions as he's really picky with textures. He has few safe foods, the large majority of them being pasta, pizza, and any beige carb. Copia is closer to his ghouls than any of the other Papas were. When he's feeling overstimulated, he has Aether 'squash his soul back into his body' by lying on him like a compression blanket. Copia's very open about his autism with his ghouls and they're all very supportive and mindful of him.

[ask-sister-solaris]

Yall I had a big brain moment

But also if you haven’t seen RHRN then do not read this.

Primo Secondo and Terzo are all confirmed to be full brothers

But secondo and Terzo and three months apart. That meant the woman who birthed Secondo would have been pregnant with Terzo and Secondo at the same time? Which obviously is impossible.

Which could feed into the Copia and Terzo are twins idea. I’m not sure how far apart Copia is from Terzo though, however this could be a huge possibility. I also acknowledge that Nihil could have just got another woman pregnant because he couldn’t wait for his prime mover to be able to have children again.

We have seen how young Nihil was with women from the Kiss The Go Goat chapter though that was just a kiss.

We saw in RHRN Nihil truly truly loves Imperator, he chased her through any condition and clung to her car because he wanted to prove his love. Which would suggest his other sons are to a prime mover and the only children that were birthed out of love was Terzo and Copia.

But it also seems Nihil was an absent father most of the time leaving his eldest sons to take care of the younger ones. Maybe Terzo and Copia aren’t twins but they have the same mother instead? Would also explain why while primo and Secondo got to peacefully give their titles to their predecessors, Terzo got dragged offstage. Because he wasn’t ‘fully’ part of the bloodline in Nihils eyes. He didn’t deserve to pass down the title it had to be taken from him.

Also nihil did NOT like the fact Terzo was getting to cocky. Reminded Nihil of how he was when he was younger.

There’s also the problem of Nihil not seeing Copia as part of the bloodline, perhaps out of hate of Copia being younger and more able, or that Copia was nothing like the previous Papas. But Imperator is so determined to actually secure Copia in place because she knows after his papacy comes to an end he will take her place.

I also think that Imperator KNEW about her condition early on. Maybe that’s why she drove off a cliff to try and end her suffering (but it didn’t work) so she uses her remaining time to try and get copia ready, I also believe she felt guilt about killing Terzo her other son.

Who knows this is just a theory

[osiris-iii-bc]

I’ve been thinking a lot of what’s said about Terzo in The Devil’s Hands documentary… a different Terzo from what we think to know. The tale of an impenetrable man.

Terzo, 

five letters which makes you question everything you have always hated. 

His overflowing brazenness, the first time you talked to him.

His discouraging bitterness, so hard for you to bear, having always loved to laugh. 

His face, scowled as if it has never softened through the joy of a smile.

Once a concept, a fantasy in your mind, now a man who retreats into the shadows, seeking solace in seclusion, finding a quiet refuge in his self-imposed exile.

Maybe I’m not what you expected, I’m sorry for that, he told you once, and you couldn’t find any other way to reply than meeting his lips.

Sometimes you see him sitting still at his desk, enveloped in his own cloak like a bat protecting from the sun, appearing like someone who in life simply awaits. It’s always a risk you are willing to take, to try to part those rigid arms, penetrate that wall and crawl your way through his soul, buried under layer after layer that he fears one day will imprison you too.

You see a man whose days are filled with too much work, for someone who claims to never deny himself the joy of transgression, and his nights are too silent, for someone who claims to thrive in the chaos of a crowded celebration.

You know it is the papal dress code, yet seeing how his face gets buried by brushstrokes of black and white tugs at your heartstrings, as you watch how his pale skin disappears behind the dark fabric he stubbornly covers himself with, on or off the stage, down to the last button of his shirt, down to the tips of his fingers. 

“How are people supposed to love you if they don’t even know you?”

“They don’t have to.”

“Well, I do-“

“You don’t have to.”

You are so used to the feel of leather that when he touches you with bare hands it feels unnatural.

When you’re lucky, he lets you spy through the cracks of that impassable wall only in the half-light of a closed room, when one after another you see his weary features re-emerge from the darkness. The shape of his eyes, his nose that never lets you touch, his lips… the center of your thoughts when he is not with you.

Just as a mirror, you reflect back the beauty and worth that the Papa himself so often fails to see, embracing the light that beckons him forward through you; his skin the same color as yours, he’s nothing more than a man in your arms. In exchange his hands, unnaturally bare, glide softly on your skin, always gentle, never forceful, unless you ask for it, until, with a last breath left in your lungs, you can feel it under your palm, or pressed against your chest, that his heart is unburdened now, his spirit alleviated, finally safe.

And so, as he takes his place once more in the spotlight with newfound courage, he does so not as a recluse, but as a man reborn, his chest full of the force of the Morning Star, ready to share his light with the world.

[can-of-pringles]

My Ghost characters orientations headcanons

Sister Imperator: Feels comfortable as a cis woman and "mostly straight" as she would say. She doesn't really have time to unpack it. She's just like "yeah I had male and female partners back in my youth what of it" I think she'd possibly like she/they pronouns.

Nihil: He's actually very queer but fits into that '"all guys think that other guys are attractive, just like how we find women attractive" and doesn't realize that in fact not all guys think that' situation. Which makes his sons give him a look but they never say anything. So he's queer, maybe pansexual, but doesn't think about it because he's so focused on Sister anyway lol. Gender is probably cis guy. The only time he did some questioning is probably when he was on something back then (please don't lecture me about if I'm incorrect on that I've never done anything)

Primo: Honestly, I'm not as sure he's slightly a mystery to me. I think he's somewhere on the demi-romantic spectrum... and is just queer for the rest but wouldn't call himself that. It's sorta just *shrug*, as for gender I think he'd say he's "too old to look into that" and is just mostly settled on cis guy. Though I think if he did have modern label knowledge he would be a demi-boy?

Secondo: I think either pansexual or bisexual. Big preference for women though which I guess traditionally would put him more as bi, though labels aren't too important. Cis guy who hates gender roles.

Terzo: Bisexual with somewhat of a masculine preference. Cis guy, but likes to experiment with other pronouns from time to time for fun.

Copia: I think he flips between grey-sexual and straight up asexual, but for simplicity's sake he calls himself asexual and bi. So he's asexual (sometimes grey-sexual) biromantic. Probably sex neutral btw. He's a cis guy but doesn't really care about pronouns much. Like if someone called him something other than he/him he wouldn't really mind much. Though he/him is his usual.

[evereverest2]

Little Monster - Terzomega

2.8k words ~ smut

Terzo asks Omega for another night together. Omega can’t stand his guts.

[warning: terzo is struggling and omega has no sympathy. this fic is pretty angsty and dark, so don’t read if you’re expecting comfort]

i decided to post this one.. i just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

[parts:] next

—

Omega stood idly in the back of the cathedral, listening to Secondo’s sermon. While was not obliged to be there, he liked the atmosphere of being in mass. Human-watching. Studying how they interacted with one another and the worship. Feeling their moods shift from listening to praying. If he just focused on one person praying, he could almost know their thoughts completely based on how their emotions shifted. Sad, hopeful, angered, desperate. He found the art of studying humans an interesting one, such complicated yet simple creatures.

“Enjoying yourself, Omega ghoul?”

Omega shut his eyes in annoyance. He should have sensed him coming.

“Can I help you, cardinal?”

Terzo stood by his side facing forward, but tilted his head at him. “You tease when you call me that. I missed you.” His voice dripped with the alcohol he abused. He smelled sweetly of wine.

“Not now.”

Terzo looked out at the congregation, avidly engaged with Secondo. “No one is looking, carissimo.”

“No.”

In all senses of the word, Omega hated Terzo. He wanted power but avoided responsibility. He was sloppy, useless, and did not have a strong loyalty to the Ministry. He often heard him spreading rumors among the siblings about his slightly older brother, Secondo. Talking to him was a chore in itself, though Omega was obliged to humor him.

“Secondo talks as loud as a garbage truck. They will not hear us, mostriciatto.”

“No.”

Omega suddenly felt his hand on his ass. He disciplined himself to stay still. Even staring straight ahead, he could see Terzo’s mischievous smirk in his mind’s eye. He gave him a decent squeeze.

Though Omega wished to kill him most days, they had been engaged in a secret, sexual tryst that Terzo often liked to invoke. That was what led Terzo to drag his sorry ass out of his quarters to beg Omega for attention.

“Let go,” he growled through grit fangs.

“Make me.”

“You’ll regret this.”

“Will I? Are you threatening your cardinal, mostriciatto?” Terzo teased.

Omega boiled with anger. “It’s not a threat if I do it.”

Terzo slyly moved his hand into his pocket, just barely able to feel the outline of Omega’s dick with the tip of his finger.

Omega seethed.

Terzo said, “Why do you not just come with me? Must you stay here?”

Omega was as silent as stone.

“Do not be like that, you are like a kitty who did not get his food.”

He was committed to his silence. Terzo tried to get his attention again, but Omega elected to walk away. He came towards the other side of the pews, partway to the front of the church where there were witnesses, and Terzo just stared at him from the back of the room. After a few minutes, he disappeared out the door.

Omega blew out a slow breath. Terzo was nasty when he was drunk, which was always.

What they had was circumstantial at best; a cardinal who took too much of a liking to a ghoul, finally convincing him one day to sleep with him. Like a dog fed scraps, he kept coming back with his needy eyes, begging for more. Omega saw little harm in indulging himself, especially when he could take out his anger and abhorrence of the cardinal on him. That was, as long as their affair could be concealed.

After mass, instead of mindlessly following Secondo around for the rest of the night, Omega surrendered to his lust and found himself standing outside the cardinal’s quarters, still in his uniform and mask. He knocked softly, looking carefully down the hallways, before stepping inside.

Terzo was on the ground in front of his couch, his head propped up on the side like he had slid off it. He wore a black suit, his dress shirt unbuttoned halfway, one sleeve rolled up, and his belt undone. He nursed a glass of red wine. Lying next to him was a spilled bottle.

“Omega ghoul,” Terzo murmured, staring at the glass in his hand. “My wine is on the floor.”

Omega, unphased by his intoxication, crossed the room and squatted over him. He grabbed Terzo’s throat, which made him look up.

“Clean it, then.”

His command was clear. The pathetic cardinal swallowed, and Omega roughly let go. Terzo took a drink, set his glass on the ground, and began licking the wine off the floor. Omega grabbed his head, pushing his nose into the hardwood. Terzo released a weak whimper, breathing harshly against the floor.

“Mostriciatto…”

Omega pulled him up by the hair, tilting his head to the side to look at him. He waited expectantly, watching stray red drops run down his cheek.

“You will not kiss me if I keep drinking the floor.”

“I don’t want to kiss you.”

He dropped his head roughly back to the ground. He whimpered.

“Keep cleaning,” Omega grunted.

Terzo’s pink tongue flicked from his lips again.

Terzo irritated Omega. Scum made better company than the drunk bastard skulking around the halls of the ministry. His intoxication made him hard for Omega to read, which annoyed him more that he could not glean his intentions. All he knew was he was oft horny, always drinking, and indignant of his position as cardinal—but only because he said as much.

Terzo started panting. Omega noticed he was shallowly grinding against the floor, clearly desperate for friction. Omega changed his position to kneeling next to him and used his other hand to slam his ass down, gripping tightly and keeping his hips still. His fingers dug into the fabric as hard as they could. Terzo groaned. He tried to thrust himself upwards, but Omega’s grip was strong, and tightened on his hair. He heard him gasp.

“Omega— Please— Let me go—“ Terzo gasped.

Reluctantly he did, realizing Terzo was choking. He rolled on his back and coughed harshly. The outline of his dick was clearly visible in his pants. Even while he gasped for air, he stared at Omega pleadingly. When he had settled, his hand subtly reached down to play with his own bulge.

Omega did nothing, just watched. Terzo got bolder, unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down just below his hips. Before he could reach the prize, though, Omega hoisted him up, carried him to the bed, and threw him on the mattress.

Terzo rolled to his stomach, steadying himself on his knees so that his ass was raised in the air, his pants falling around his thighs. His hand slipped between his legs, his fingers pressing against his asshole. He looked at Omega, his head lying against the bed, with hazy and needy eyes.

He was desperate.

Omega growled, “If you wanted to jerk off by yourself, you shouldn’t have teased me.”

Omega pushed him over, forcing him on his back. He yanked down his own pants and climbed over him. He dangled his dick over Terzo’s face, holding himself over him in what was almost a push-up. Terzo knew what to do, taking it in his mouth obediently. Omega rolled his hips and started fucking his mouth.

Terzo took it well. His hands exploded Omega’s lower half, his fingers slipping around his balls, thighs, and ass. The extra stimulation added to his grunts and moans.

Even as his chest rose more shallowly, as his fingers gripped more tightly, Omega did not let up. The human’s warm, wet mouth was doing wonders to satiate the risen passion burning within him. He knew Terzo had seduced him for his own desires, his need to be treated like shit. Strangers could not mistreat him as well as the hellish fury who he knew already hated him. It was a wonder why Omega bothered to keep coming at all. Perhaps he loved to torture Terzo. It was more vindicating than glaring at him behind the mask silently.

Terzo gripped his thighs, breathing harshly, clearly wanting relief. But Omega was close and he did not want to let up. His throat was a perfect and tight hole for his cock, even if it was choking him. Listening to Terzo struggling to breathe was getting Omega off even more. The more he gasped, the tighter he was.

How he despised him. Enough to cum down his already constricted throat.

Omega lifted himself up with a grunt, standing next to the bed and pulling his pants up. Meanwhile Terzo was doubled over spitting up cum on his bedsheets. He gagged as spit dripped from his mouth, retching like he was close to vomiting. Omega was indifferent.

It took a decent few minutes for Terzo to pull himself together. He laid on his bed, pants still down, his dick now soft from choking for so long. When he could breathe again, he whispered in a raspy voice, “Mostriciatto, will you give me my wine?”

Omega shook his head. Terzo crawled out of bed towards the couch where he had set his wine glass on the floor. He sat against the couch and took a long drink. When it was empty, Omega watched as he crawled to his coffee table to open another bottle, ass out and dick wagging. Not from a lack of shame, but a lack of awareness. He was wasted.

Omega was disgusted. This was the lowest that humanity had to offer. Terzo looked so pathetic he felt, for once, pity.

“Omega ghoul,” he slurred, crawling to again sit against the couch on the ground and pouring wine in his glass. “Will you touch me now?”

His dick noticeably twitched, growing to a half-on. Omega silently shook his head.

“Please.” He looked up at him, his arm swaying in the air before he took a drink. Omega denied him again, turning towards the door.

A sob. Omega stopped. Where before he had felt little through the veil of wine, now there was a surge of misery emanating from Terzo, so strong it strangled his heart. He turned to look at him again.

“You do not like me?” Terzo wailed. “Am I not handsome enough? Do I not choke down your dick? Mostriciatto, you think I am bad in bed, si? No! I am good, I am sexy!”

There was an anguish that ran much deeper than the superficialities he cried about, a pain that Omega had never sensed in him before. It went beyond his intoxication. It was something he hid. He could feel it twisting around every neuron, lurking behind his thoughts. It was impossible— how did he hide this from a quintessence ghoul?

Terzo continued to break down. He took another drink and began pumping his dick, which was not even hard. “I don’t need you for fun, ghoul! I am il maschio, I can do my own!”

He visibly was not into it, gripping onto himself without rise. He continued crying into his wine glass, and though he obviously could not get himself up, he continued to try.

Omega could not stand it any longer. He turned to leave again.

“Wait!”

Terzo scrambled behind him, his glass audibly clattering to the floor. As Omega reached the door, Terzo threw his body against him.

“Don’t leave, caramissio, don’t leave…”

Terzo’s snot and tears soaked into his shirt, to his annoyance.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Do not leave me.”

The sadness flooding from him was overwhelming, unfortunately triggering his sympathy for him. It must have been lonely to be Terzo. Omega knew the only attention he got was when he was spreading rumors and lies, that otherwise he went unnoticed in Secondo’s shadow. Omega was all he had— and Omega hated him.

He tentatively wrapped his arms around Terzo, who readily clung on to him in return, weeping against his chest. Omega gingerly rubbed his back and allowed him to cry.

After a few minutes, he seemed to calm down. Terzo pulled back slightly, looking up at him, his black eyes and lips smeared to all hell. He suddenly grabbed Omega by the crotch.

Omega’s eyebrows knit together in irritation. “Terzo…”

“Please, I want you, mostrichiatto. Just once tonight, fuck me up the ass.”

Omega felt the loathing return to him. Terzo was just a whore, in the end. But he would oblige, because he felt sorry for the pathetic cardinal.

“Fine.”

Omega lifted his slight frame and brought him back to the bed. Again, Terzo was quick to raise his ass in the air, his asshole puckering at Omega greedily.

Omega once again lowered his pants, gave himself a few strokes, knelt behind him, and shoved inside without prep or lube. Terzo groaned painfully, burying his head in his covers. Omega mercifully paused for his benefit, even reaching beneath him to start yanking on his cock.

Terzo tightened and relaxed around him, moaning. He bit his finger, body relaxing with pleasure. When he began pushing his hips back for friction, Omega began thrusting.

Terzo took up the task of stroking himself off so Omega could grip his love handles as he moved. He whined and panted, peeking at Omega over his shoulder. Even with his bizarre eyes, he looked desperately cute. Omega, feeling aggressive as a result, yanked Terzo’s shirt down around his shoulders and raked his claws down his back, just to see his skin turn red and bleed. Terzo moaned at the contact, his head disappearing into the bed again.

Omega grabbed him by the hair and yanked him upwards so that his back was pressed against his stomach. Holding him around the waist with one hand, touching his chest with the other, thrusting all the while. Omega slid his fingers against his nipples, rubbing and pinching them as Terzo whimpered. Terzo kept jerking off all the meanwhile, steeped in his sexual bliss, likely overstimulating himself just to make his mind go blank.

“Carissimo…”

Omega pushed him down again harshly, the bed bouncing with the force. He planted his elbows on either side of his shoulders and thrust quickly into his tight ass, which would clench with every change of movement. Terzo grabbed his wrist with one hand and let the other return to stroking after he had used it to catch himself.

“Carissimo…” Terzo moaned again. Omega did not like his pet names, said to him as if they were more than they were. He voiced his distaste with a bite to his shoulder, deep enough to draw blood. Terzo screamed in pain. He followed it up with harder thrusts, clapping against his body, almost making him lose the balance in his knees. So strong were his thrusts that Terzo started shouting his moans.

He felt Terzo’s arms quickening and could physically feel his orgasm build up in him. Omega focused, feeling the tense string of his arousal threatening to snap. When his mind had found it, he gripped it tightly, stopping him from his release.

It took the drunken Terzo awhile to realize. He was desperately yelling, mumbling incomprehensibly in Italian. He wanted to finish. Omega could feel it take over every cell in Terzo’s body. He wanted the release. He wanted to think of nothing but the floods of chemicals in his mind.

But he didn’t let him.

“You’ll cum when I’m finished,” Omega grunted between thrusts.

Terzo had neither the words nor the capacity to deny him.

Omega had his way with the little man, biting him once more just to hear his pain. The cardinal was a bitch, but he was his bitch. No matter the strange surge of pain and misery Omega had felt from him, no matter his need to be drunk at almost all times, no matter the way he clung to Omega and begged for his companionship. Terzo was nothing. Omega was just using him; That was all they were. Terzo liked it this way. He liked to be hurt by him.

Right?

Omega came again with another vicious bite, and mercifully released his mind hold on Terzo. Terzo jolted with him, and they came together, dripping in synchrony, sighing as one. Again, Omega was quick to stand and pull up his pants, ready to leave at the first opportunity, even if his legs felt more weak than before. He adjusted his mask, his shirt, righting himself until it looked as if nothing has happened at all.

“Omega ghoul…” Terzo said softly, having collapsed on his stomach. “…Will you stay?”

His back and shoulders looked as if he had survived an encounter with a lion. Perhaps he had.

“No.”

He was steely, silent. Terzo was quiet for a moment.

“May I have my wine?”

Omega, haven given up, grabbed the bottle near the couch and handed it to him. Terzo sat up to drink, his eyelids heavy as he gazed at him.

“Please…?” he murmured slowly.

Omega shook his head. He had already stayed longer than he wanted. Holding Terzo all night was too far for what they were.

Nothing. They were nothing.

He took a swig, shaking his head. “Mostriciatto, you asshole.”

Omega took that as his cue to leave, and this time, Terzo did not stop him. He heard the bottle thunk to the ground as he left. Terzo had passed out. Omega did not turn back.

[parts:] next

buy me a kofi <3