New Blood

this megatron is just so sweet and gentle with the kids it absolutely. DESTROYS ME.

And heeyyy again! Another request to see the Reader and Terzo go into a haunted house. Terzo acts all macho before realizing he’s actually more terrified of them than the reader! Hehehehehe. I love scaring my Papas. Thank you again!

Terzo and his s/o in a haunted house

It was absolutely hilarious.

On stage Terzo was the most confident person ever. And he has managed to master that persona so well he implemented it into his everyday life.

So when he heard about a new haunted house attraction from you, he puffs his chest and says he wants to go with you.

He needs to protect the love of his life, after all! What if you get scared? He can't have that, what kind of lover would he be if he let that happen?!

And so you take him.

And after the very first scare, he screams like a little girl. You knew he had amazing voice range, but this? Damn.

He's gonna be wrapped around your finger after a this just because you use his girly screams as blackmail.

You have to hold his hand the entire time. It's not like you have much choice, considering he's clinging to you.

Somehow the scares keep hitting him harder every time.

It wasn't even a good haunted house, it was one of the cheap ones.

He insists he's fine. He's not fine.

He's gonna act like nothing happened when you get out, but say anything about telling Omega or Secondo and he's gonna be on his knees.

Use that as you please.

The Hunter’s Blood Moon

Prologue

I gripped the very edge of the stage, unable to wipe the beaming grin off my slightly-sweaty face, my chest heaving as the audience and I belted out the lyrics to ‘Cirice.’ Hearing sensitivity be damned, I would have gladly gone deaf if it meant I got the closest spot to the stage—the closest spot to him—as possible. I looked left to right, still no security guards to be seen, and yet nobody took the opportunity to climb onto the stage and join the performance, especially when he, Papa Emeritus III, was the lead vocalist. My heels bounced up and down with each boom of Pebble’s drums, the heavy shredding of Omega and Alpha on their respective guitars—it was still difficult to tell which Ghoul was which without their instruments—but my eyes stayed completely focused on the main lead himself.

I had no idea what the hell happened, but when Papa Emeritus II disappeared from Ghost and Papa III took over, it was like a switch just flipped on inside me. Seeing Secondo in his full Papa regalia? Awesome, and kind of funny considering his resemblance to a certain canine-named American singer; he’s nicknamed Mr. Worldwide for a reason. But seeing Terzo? With his raven-black hair, his classy black coat, and his white button-down? My heart had never fluttered so fast before, I had never squealed so loudly or flapped my hands so hard whenever photos and videos of him cropped up online or on the news, and even though I had wanted to see Ghost live since ninth grade, as soon as I graduated with my two-year film degree and got my first job at a local bookstore, my motivation cranked up to an eleven as soon as I found out that they—he—would play live in my town.

Terzo had just become my newest celebrity crush.

I didn’t give a single shit about any of the concert recordings I’d seen on YouTube anymore, nothing could have compared to hearing him in person. Whenever he held his microphone and sang, from ‘Year Zero’ to ‘Mummy Dust’—especially ‘Mummy Dust’; fuck, I’ll never get his raw sexual energy during that song out of my head—the sheer amount of confidence radiating from him had me falling head-over-heels, my heart beating so fast I thought I might pass out, my cheeks heating up so much to the point where I probably looked like a tomato or a seedless strawberry. And judging by the comments I’d seen other fans post on the Internet, I wasn’t the only one having a reaction like that.

Some very eager fans shoved past me and squealed right in my ear when Terzo swept past his boyfriend Omega, and the reason why clicked in my head as soon as the music drastically stopped, his voice lowered to a near-whisper, and his gorgeous mismatched eyes scanned the entire front row of the crowd. My eyes widened, and I couldn’t stop the short scream that tore from my throat, my right hand among others reaching past the edge of the stage as the audience either screamed for Papa or belted out the important lines for that part of the song.

A lucky fan was about to get Cirice’d.

My heart practically stopped as soon as Terzo’s gaze landed on the rabid fans around me, his lips curling into a devious smirk, making my cheeks burn and sending the women surrounding me into an absolute frenzy. The anxious lump immediately grew in my chest, my knees trembled, and my shyness kicked in as I slowly drew my hand away from the stage. There were already so many hands reaching for him, I didn’t think he would notice one missing. Terzo glanced at each frothing member of his congregation, strolling up and down; I’m pretty sure some ‘Wet Floor’ signs would be put around the place once the area got cleared out, I’d have to keep my eyes on the ground just to be sure I don’t slip and fall and potentially break my neck.

He started to approach a fan to my left…

And stopped.

Right in front of me.

I felt my pulse begin racing throughout my entire body, the flush on my cheeks reaching down to the back of my neck as the audience members next to me kept their hands towards Terzo. He looked down, directly at my withdrawn hand as I held it against my chest.

No.

No, this wasn’t happening.

He looked back up at me…

…got down on his left knee…

…held out his hand…

…and his smile easily put an angel’s to shame.

Holy fuck.

I’m getting Cirice’d.

I’m getting Cirice’d.

I’M GETTING CIRICE’D!!!

Before I knew it, my fingertips met the soft fabric of Terzo’s gloved palm, and his fingers curled around mine, his thumb brushing the back of my hand as he tugged me closer to him. While my brain short-circuited and the ball of shyness threatened to explode in my chest, my other hand tried and failed to cover up and cool down the blush on my left cheek. My head was on the verge of overheating, but an airiness settled itself along with the heat as I looked up at Terzo. He knelt right in front of me, my hand in his as the Ghouls started playing again, his voice so clear and pretty as he sang the main chorus of the song. The corners of my mouth curled into a timid smile, and I could only look away for a few seconds before my eyes found his again, the anxiety wearing down and changing into a bubbly, giddy sort of shyness with a ton of suppressed excitement just short of bursting. My very first Ghost ritual, and I got to hold hands with Papa Emeritus III.

I couldn’t wait to gush about it to Elijah and Allison.

He pulled me closer, my stomach beginning to press against the edge of the stage, and I was more than certain that he, the Ghouls, and the audience could see the imaginary pink and red cartoon hearts floating around my head and popping like bubbles. Anticipation fluttered in my chest, and just when I thought things couldn’t get any better than they were right now, Terzo set his microphone down next to him, his voice still perfectly clear as day, and I felt a legitimate shiver—an actual honest-to-God shiver—run down my spine as he gently tilted my chin up with his other hand, like something straight out of a romance novel. His thumb brushed against my bottom lip, and I swear the ground almost disappeared beneath my feet, my breathing grew slightly heavier, and the noisy crowd behind me faded away into simple background noise.

Blood thrummed in my ears. Adrenaline rushed through me. My toes curled inside my shoes, the muscles in my shoulders ached the longer I tensed them, but I stayed rooted to my spot.

“…s… im…!”

What…?

“Ki… im…!”

The hell were they saying?

“Kiss him!!”

Oh.

OH.

Okay, I definitely did not hear that right. There was absolutely no way in hell that the entire audience started chanting “Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him!” nonstop, their screams loud enough to make the entire arena tremble. I clutched the fabric of my pants, my knuckles no doubt turning white, the muscles in my fingers twitching with how hard I was straining them. Most of my brain yelled at me not to do it, not to risk getting banned from another Ghost concert for life; so I just stood there, willing my body not to pass out from how close Terzo was, how the fabric of his gloved palms fueled the steaming blush on my cheeks and sent shivers down my back, how his fingers brushed against the…

…the hollow of my…

…my throat…

His eyes…

…his mysterious white eye that gleamed under the harsh stage lights…

…the way his furrowed brows enhanced his gaze to create the most beautiful pair of ‘fuck me’ eyes I’d ever seen…

…the only ones I’d ever…

And then it happened.

It finally happened.

A pair of warm paint-covered lips pressed against mine, stray locks of raven hair traced feather-light touches against my temples. My fingers clutched the left collar of Terzo’s coat as my knees threatened to buckle under my weight. The butterflies immediately erupted from my stomach and spread throughout the rest of my body. I couldn’t tell my own thundering heartbeat from the deafening roar of the crowd while the last few minutes of ‘Cirice’ had now become simple background noise. His fingers gently threaded through my hair, his thumb brushing over my knuckles as he tightened his grip on my hand. The steaming rosy blush on my cheeks spread down to my neck, my eyes fluttered to a close, and my heart threatened to leap out of my chest.

It finally happened.

I just had my first kiss.

-

My breaths were deep and slow as my eyes fluttered open, the Christmasy smell of fresh pine flowing through my nose as the gentle hum of the A/C met my ears. The thinnest rays of sunlight were just beginning to stream through my window, casting slanted orange-yellow patterns and shapes on the walls; a strand of hair stuck to my left eye, but at least I didn’t get a flash-bang straight to the face. I turned onto my back and sluggishly raised my left hand up, brushing my fingers against my dry and chapped lips. After making a quick mental note to apply lip balm later—Mom would definitely get on my ass about it—I clenched the blanket and threw my head back against the pillow, glaring at the ceiling like it owed me money and was too lazy to pay me back even a dollar. My cheeks puffed out as I added a childish pout to my little staring contest with the drywall or whatever it was above my head. I didn’t have a doubt that grabbing my pillow and punching it would have woken up my parents and my brother in the next room over, so I just sat there and pulled the blanket over my face, a warm flush coloring my cheeks as I willed the bed to swallow me whole and let me wallow in my own disappointment.

I huffed, crossing my arms. I should have known it was too good to be true. Kissing Terzo immediately after getting Cirice’d? I mean, come on. No way. I would give all the money in my bank account for that—consensually, of course, I’m not a total creep—but the chances of a kiss on the lips during that part of the song are practically zero. He probably has a girlfriend, or boyfriend, or gender-non-confirming date friend or something; if I were his partner—God, I wish—I’d be pretty pissed if he made out with every fan he Cirice’d. Besides, security would have definitely stopped that from happening.

A girl can dream, though.

Aether and Phantom headcanon

Phantom is Aether's little brother.

He always adored his big bro, so when Aether was summoned to play for Ghost, he was absolutely thrilled to see his brother on the stage! He was and will always be his biggest fan. He even started to play instruments himself to be more like his big brother.

He learned all the Ghost songs just to impress Aether. And his brother was so proud he refused to stop hugging him! It was just so cute of him to learn all that just for his brother!

And then, as Aether was getting ready for the Re-Imperatour, Phantom mentioned something about how cool it would be if he could be in a band as well. And so Aether had an idea. After a surprisingly serious discussion with Papa, he got Phantom to replace him as the rhythm guitarist for the band.

Does Aether miss messing around on stage? Yes, absolutely. But it's all totally worth it so see how happy and excited his little brother is to perform.

You could say that tables have turned for them, because now it's Aether who is his brother's biggest fan. ♡

~

Taglist: @mybotanicaldemise @copias-fluffy-asscheeks (send an ask if you'd like to be added! read the pinned post before asking!)

Subtle Pride Flag Masterpost

All my subtle pride flags so far compiled into one post.

Lesbian

Gay

Bisexual

Pansexual

Transgender

Non-Binary

Genderfluid

Demisexual

Aromantic

Asexual

AroAce

Progress

Remastered, better quality versions now available.

Te lo meriti! (CopiaxReader)

Summary: A birthday present for my dearest @nocturnal-birb I did my best and hope you like it. This also goes out to all you folks who feel this way and need a Papa’s support and reassurance.

Copia x Reader || Papa Emeritus iv x Reader || Fluff || Comfort Fic || Established Relationship || Poorly Translated Italian || WC: 1716

You stand before Copia’s door with a manilla folder in hand full of official documents for him to sign off on. There’s a few about his next sermon, some to do with the next tour, and notices from the clergy.

You gently rapped your knuckles against his door, loud enough to get his attention while your other hand brushes invisible dust off your habit and straightens the small amount of wrinkles. You wish you had more time to tidy up. Your hair was being very uncooperative today and you had been in such a rush this morning that you had forgone makeup.

You hoped he wouldn’t mind that you didn’t look your best. However, knowing Copia, it’s not because of your makeup that he’s always staring at your face with his dopey lovesick eyes. You smile at imagining him getting distracted again in the midst of paperwork coercing you that neither of you get any work done.

Keep reading

Satan’s Toy Box

Hello anon!  Thank you for the prompt and I hope you enjoy what I came up with!  

~ As the owner of the local sex toy shop you find yourself developing a crush on a Cardinal from the local Satanic church ~

The prompt was: attempting to find out if they are single/available

Cardinal Copia x GN Reader (nsfw, 18+, mdni)

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Today was going to be the day.

Keep reading

restroom detour - cardinal copia x female!reader

you're out with your friends at the new local hot spot: the pinnacle lounge. a trip to find the bathroom has you stumbling into something not for your eyes.

notes: 2.1k word count, mdni! 18+! there be smut here. also i just love me some sweet cardi. ao3 link.

You and your friends were chattering away at the bar, drinks in hand. It had been a long work week and you were happy to be out with friends to blow off some steam. The Pinnacle Lounge had seemingly popped up overnight in your town and quickly gained a reputation for being a unique, good time. 

The moment you stepped in earlier that night, you could see why. There were people dressed as nuns and priests, some wearing shiny masks and suspenders, mixed in with those dressed for a night out. The color scheme for the bar was black and gold while the lights shifted from neon green to a bright purple as the night wore on.

The music thumps and you all bop long with it. At this point, you are feeling pretty good as you finish up your second drink. 

“I gotta pee!” You chirp cheerfully, giving everyone a small wave as you walk away. You set your empty glass down on the bar and take a look around.

“Fuck.”

You realize you have absolutely no idea where you are going. A few people bump into you as you make your way around the perimeter of the bar before you come upon a dark hallway. There is a door that looks like it has some kind of fancy “G” on it and you assume it’s the women’s bathroom.

The moment you open the door and step inside no less than ten eyes are on you. They were all wearing cloaks, concealing their entire bodies and were peering out of their hoods at you. It was dark enough in the room that you couldn’t see their faces. You finally take in your surroundings, the low glow of black candles lining the room, the smell of incense flooding your nostrils. Your gaze settles on the black altar in front of you and you draw in a gasp.

A naked woman is spread atop it, a pentagram drawn in blood on her stomach. A man was between her legs, his fingers digging into her hips as he glares at you, his mismatched eyes sending chills down your spine. His face was painted like a skull and he wore a black robe with gold details, his dark hair hanging in his face.

“Uh…uh…sorry!” Your voice sounds incredibly high-pitched as you back out of the room.

You can feel your heart beating out of your chest as you slam the door shut behind you, your feet carrying you towards the end of the hall. A man exits one of the other doors, stepping out right in front of you and you collide with a thud. For the brief second you are touching, you can smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Eh, mi dispiace, mi dispiace.” He mumbles, his hands moving to grip your arms to help you catch your balance.

You look up at him and the first thing you notice are his eyes – the same ones that you had seen in the room. A jolt of fear causes you to jump back from him and he releases your arms, his eyes widening. He is wearing a cassock and biretta and his dark paint around his eyes were somewhat smudged.

“Are you alright, cara?” Copia sounds genuinely concerned, his accent thick as he reaches his hand out to you. You stare at it for a moment then you take another step back. 

“T-there are people in one of the rooms doing weird stuff.” The words spill out of your mouth, your brain too rattled to describe exactly what you saw.

“Ah, yes… the ritual.” He sighs softly, sounding almost annoyed. “No need to be afraid, cara. They are just, eh, partaking in carnal pleasures.”

“But-but the candles and the cloaks and the blood!” 

“How can I explain this to you?” Copia ponders aloud, his white eye glowing in the darkness. He looks around the hallway, his gaze settling on a bench against the back wall of the hallway. “Come.” His hand finds yours, pulling at it gently as he moves toward the bench. You realize he is wearing leather gloves, your eyes falling to the one in your hand, noticing the “G” symbol on it.

You wobble after him, your platform boots clunking as you pull your dress down with your free hand. He settles on the bench, carefully pulling you close to him as your knees touch. His hand still held yours, his thumb brushing it as his free hand removed his biretta. Brown hair spills out from underneath and he smooths it neatly back. His eyes were soft, contrasting with the sharpness of his nose and his dramatic eye paint.

“So, you’ve seen the inverted crosses around the bar, correct?

“Y-yes.”

“Good. I am a member of the clergy that owns and operates this bar. It is meant as a safe space for everyone to come, have fun, be themselves and… partake in sin.” His lips curl into a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. You feel a blush creep up your cheeks.

“But not in a harmful way. The ritual you walked in on is very safe, very controlled. It is meant to represent, eh, the procreation of the antichrist.”

You stare at him dumbly, feeling that you are too drunk for this conversation. Copia smiles warmly at you, letting go of your hand and bringing his up to your cheek to caress it gently. “The things  you saw that frightened you are merely decoration to help establish the mood. It’s meant to be fun; it’s meant to be dramatic… it’s meant to be erotic.” 

You can feel heat start to rise between your legs by his words, causing you to squeeze your thighs together. Of course, he notices, and drops his finger to your chin, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. Your lips part as you shiver from his touch, your wide eyes meeting his duochromatic gaze. 

“Does this make you feel better about what you saw, dolce?” He purrs, inching his face even closer to yours. His smile has turned from sweet to seductive, his eyes shining mischievously. You can only bring yourself to nod and your nose brushes against his as you do so. A shuddered breath leaves your lips as you find your hands find his chest.

Copia takes this as his opening and presses his lips to yours tenderly. You can taste the alcohol on his soft lips, your hands traveling up his chest to the back of his neck. He sighs against you, deepening the kiss as his tongue slips into your mouth as he pulls you in close. His hands start to wander down your sides, settling on your ass before he slips them under your dress. 

You moan softly as he starts to massage it, the feeling of his leather gloves on your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine. His teeth tug at your bottom lip as he pulls away from you, giving you ass one last squeeze as his fingers drift to pull your dress down for you. Copia then grabs your legs and pulls them into his lap.

He is paying so much attention to you, despite the silence between you both. It’s a comfortable silence as he caresses your legs (and you are mentally patting yourself on the back for shaving them that day). The fear of the ritual you had witnessed is completely gone now, your mind and body at ease as you settle into Copia’s lap.

This was not how you thought your night was going to go but you are not complaining. This was the most you’ve been touched by someone in a long time, having given up on dating a while ago and you weren’t typically one to put yourself out there like this. Something about him, the way he gazed at you, the way he cared enough to explain away what you had seen… 

His fingers start to drift to your inner thighs, drawing small circles as they continue to move up. You swallow thickly, wide eyes looking back at him as your cheeks flush. Your legs spread ever so slightly, allowing him to continue further up your thigh. 

“Is this okay, dolce?” Copia whispers, brushing his fingers even higher. Your face is completely flushed now, the closer he gets to your cunt the more wet it becomes. There is some nervousness buzzing around in the back of your head – despite being hidden by the darkness of the hallways, you were still in a public place. But again… this bar was owned and operated by a satanic organization…

“Yes…please.” 

He pulls your underwear to the side, his fingers dipping into your wet folds. Copia hums in approval, then presses one his fingers against your entrance. You shudder, grabbing on to his cassock and pulling him close. His nose brushes against your cheek before settling his face in your neck, breathing you in deeply. 

“Such a naughty girl.” He growls against you, his finger curling upward, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside you. Your hips buck at the feeling, squeezing your lips shut as a moan bumbles up your throat. You feel him chuckle against your neck then presses a kiss to it as he slips another finger inside.

He starts to kiss, bite and suck at your neck, and by now you are feeling drunk off of him. You can tell by how roughly he’s moving his mouth on your neck that he’s leaving marks all over you. Your lips are quivering now, trying desperately to hold in your sounds which is all but impossible now as he adds a third finger. 

Copia pumps his fingers in and out of you, quickening his pace as he relentlessly presses into your bundle of nerves. Your entire body is trembling, your hips jerking wildly against his fingers. At this point, you’re over being discreet as breathy moans spill from your lips. 

Your hands move to grip at his shoulders, nails digging into them as you squeeze your eyes shut. He’s growling against you now and you can feel the vibration rumble of them down through your chest. Your muscles start to spasm and tense as the rest of your body trembles, a sharp cry rising from your lungs as your orgasm falls over you.

Your chest heaves as you start to come down from the high, feeling even more hazy than before. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, hovering there for a moment as you feel his warm breath on you before he pulls away. “I am very glad we ran into each other tonight, dolce.” He purrs, bringing his fingers up to taste them. You’re still recovering as your mouth drops open, watching him. “Ehm… why did you walk into that room in the first place?”

“Oh, well…” You feel a pang of embarrassment in your chest as you chuckle quietly. “I was looking for the bathroom.” 

He breaks out into a brilliant, toothy smile. “Tesoro, it’s right behind you — eh, if you still have to go.” 

“I probably should now.” You grin as you swing your legs off of his lap, your boots clunking to the floor. He pulls your dress down for you as you stand and you can feel yourself start to blush again. “Thank you.” You squeak before scurrying to the bathroom. 

Once inside, you do your business while your mind is exploding, thinking about what just happened. What did just happen? You got finger fucked by a stranger in a bar after witnessing a satanic ritual simulating the procreation of the antichrist. Maybe this was a typical Friday night for The Pinnacle Lounge.

Your legs are still trembling from the intensity of the orgasm, wobbling as you make your way to the mirror. There are very obvious red marks all along your neck as well as some black smudges from his eye paint. You think about trying to wipe some of it off, or at least try to make some of the marks less noticeable for a second before you decide… fuck it.

As you wash your hands, you start to panic, thinking that maybe he won’t be out there waiting for you. It wouldn’t be the end of the world but — you really wanted him to be there. There was something about him that just drew you to him. Again, your mind turns back to how sweet he was with you and how handsome he was.

When you leave the bathroom, he is standing near the bench, waiting for you. He looks like he is almost nervous, his cheeks flushed as he turns his biretta over in his hands.

“Dolce, I’ve realized we have, ehm, kind of done things a bit backwards tonight.” His lips twitch into a small smile, reaching for your hand. You immediately place your hand in his and he presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “I’m Cardinal Copia… ehm, will you allow me to buy you a drink?”

Fully obsessed with the concept of Copia. He's over fifty years old. He's a gamer. His arrival coincides with the death of every previous Papa like he's the bringer of the bubonic plague. He rides little tricycles around the Ministry. He's apparently a professional dancer as well as being the vocalist for a metal band but has a Charisma of 8. He's pathetic (canon). He's literally the Satanic Pope. He loves his mom. He's kind of a bitch. He wears tracksuits with dress shoes. Tobias hates him but is chronically incapable of killing him off because he serves so much cunt. I really can't decide if I want to be this man or be inside him

please, please, please elaborate on Terzo and consensual somnophilia 🥵 how would he go about telling his partner or what if his partner brought it up first? Or any of Terzo’s other bedroom interests- Or, god- anything TERZO, I love him so much thank you for this wonderful blog 🙏🏼❤️

Ghestie are you okay - Jez

Terzo and consensual somnophilia headcanons

First of all, I wanna get one thing clear. Terzo is extremely big on consent. And I mean really big.

If he notices you being slightly uncomfortable with any sort of touching, he reacts. If it's his fault, he apologizes and seeks out a different way if touching that you are comfortable with.

If someone else touches you in a way you don't like, he's your #1 defender. Won't hesitate to call that person out. He is capable of getting in a fist fight if needed.

That's how big he is on consent.

With that being said, he adores how cute and innocent you look while sleeping. And his mind can't help but wonder.

He'd never take advantage of you in a situation like this, though. He wouldn't dare.

No, he'd just carefully leave the bed and deal if it in the bathroom. It kinda becomes a regular occurrence until one day you wake up because he didn't realize he left the door slightly ajar, so you can totally hear him doing his thing.

You jokingly asked him what got him hard so early in the morning and this is one of the very few times you've actually seen him embarrassed.

He ends up explaining to you the thoughts that he was having and you honestly found it cute how he held his urges and masturbated just because he loved you too much to touch you when he wasn't sure if you were okay with it. We love a caring king.

So you end up coming up with a solution. You'd leave him a note in the evening that would say if you were okay with him touching you in your sleep.

And he's just... So sweet about it. So gentle.

At first he just limits it to gentle strokes of his fingers and kisses over your body, but as time passed, it wasn't uncommon for him to wake you up with sex, regular or oral.

And even if you never change the note that gives him your consent, he checks it every time.

BECAUSE HE IS A RESPECTFUL KING.