korn-y-copia

[korn-y-copia]

Hello, yes I am still alive, I still love Copia, and I had a hell of a time just blocking a bunch of bots that have manifested in my absence...all things are as they should be. 

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The first three Papa’s names are actually Primo, Secondo, and Terzo because Papa Nihil couldn’t be bothered to actually name his children so he named them “one two three” respectively

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Copia is the type to remember little details about you. The things you like, your dislikes, your fears, things you find interesting- whatever it is, he always remember it. He’d even give things that you like, saying “I remember you like this” or something- Copia remembers everything you tell him, whatever it may be whether it is something silly or not. He just takes your words and remembers it— and I will die on this hill

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swiss leaning over at the table asking "are you gonna eat that" not waiting for an answer and then swallowing your silverware whole

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He looks so happy here...

X

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Black and white Ghost pics

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I'm on a difficult phase of my work I needed to clear my head a little.

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Not a single thought behind those eyes

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Okay, I've been thinking about how Tender Father said that Terzo kinda "hates everyone, especially himself."

"Especially himself".

Combining that, plus how Terzo acts in general (sweet, seductive, sexy, charming), I'm thinking that maybe the sexy charmer act is not only a way to cover up his self-loathing, but also the source of it? Or A source of it. Or both.

Like, with Nihil probably being a shit dad, and him probably not giving Terzo any actual guidance, Terzo probably cultivated his personality in order to get positive attention. Which ended up being largely sexual.

Which works for him, as he's horny. But.

Over time? When that's the main (sometimes only) kind of attention he was receiving from most people outside his family & ghouls?

That backfired.

Is that all he's good for, now? Making the audience swoon and horny? Fucking people? Sure, he's good at it, but there's more to him than just that.

But most people wouldn't know, because they only focus on the sexy part. Not the rest of him. Not what's under the Casanova persona. They want to fuck him, but do they want to also know him?

He still enjoys it, but also it drains him. He loves the sex, but is that it? Is that the only feeling he can get out of people? Just lust?

Is that all he's good for? Is he not also loveable? What is he doing wrong, here? Something must be wrong with him, if people can't really see the whole of him.

Hence the self-loathing.

Thanks for coming to my TEDTalk.

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He stumbled back to his quarters, the afterglow of the ritual rapidly fading. He was sweaty. Sore. He was always sweaty and sore—why did he think it would be any different this time around?

He brought the wash cloth up to his face, and paused. After a moment of hesitation, he started carefully wiping away the unfamiliar parts of the skull paint.

There he was, underneath it all, looking back at himself from the mirror. The same as he had always been.

“Not Papa,” he sighed to himself. “Cardinal.” 

An accidental companion series to my last Papa IV piece—look, that initial rush of Post-Coronation BDE Confidence can only last for so long.

This started out as that one painting at the end, and then just… kept going! I am WEAK and full of feelings.

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could you write abt the different papas reacting to the reader loving to work with crafts? (like crochet, sewing, that kind of thing) :)

I stg I was going to finish this hours ago but my friend ended up calling me and we talked longer than I expected. Anyway, hopefully this is good <333

Papa Emeritus I:

He always figured you had something to do to keep yourself occupied when he was away, and it wasn’t a huge secret when he had returned home one day from tour and saw a new blanket laying on the end of the bed. Black and red, just like his papal robe. He had taken his gloves off to feel the soft fabric, stunned by its quality.

“Amore,” he calls out to you when you finally enter the room. “where could you have possibly found something like this? It’s gorgeous!” His voice lowers as he continues to admire it. “This is something I wish I could’ve found for you as a gift.”

“You’re so sweet, Papa.” You walk over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I made that!”

“Che cosa?” His brows raise. “Ah, girasole, it makes sense now!” He grins widely as he takes your hand, kissing your knuckles. “Such a beautiful creation from an even more beautiful creature.”

“Oh, stop.” Your face heats up as his lips trail up your arm.

“I mean it, amore.” He reaches your cheek. “Is this what you do when I’m away?”

“Yeah. It helps me not think about how much I miss you.”

“Ah, you’re going to make an old man blush, girasole.” He holds you close to him. “I will have to buy you more materials, sì?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to. I always hate leaving you behind.” He presses a soft kiss to your lips. “At least with this little hobby, I know you are occupied and not too upset.”

Papa Emeritus II:

The day he ripped his dress shirt was the day he found out you knew how to sew. It was a decently long tear, but luckily it had just been on the seam. He doesn’t remember how it happened, but he thinks one of those damned handles on the cabinet had caught him as he was walking by.

“Look at this, uccello canoro!” he growls when you walk into his office, showing off the tear. “As if I didn’t have enough to worry about. Now I have to replace this or see if any of my ghouls know how to sew.”

“You’re such a baby,” you laugh and he looks like you had just kicked a puppy. “Come here, hand it over. I’ll take care of it.”

“Aspetta,” He holds up his hands. “You want it? You can fix this?”

“Yes, I can fix it! I do this whenever you go out!” You stamp your foot, your hand extended. “Now give it! I don’t have all day.”

He’s still surprised, but he finally undoes his shirt and hands it over to you. You snatch it out of his grasp, though a small smirk does dance across your lips as you look him up and down.

“I think I might prefer you looking like this, Papa,” you comment. “That look suits you a lot more.”

“Don’t tease me, monello,” he growls, but you know he enjoys the compliment with how he’s also smiling. “But you’ve never told me of this, uccello canoro.” He gives you a little pout. “I thought you told your Papa everything. Why hide this from him?”

“It’s just something I do in my spare time.” You watch as he grabs a spare coat from his closet. “You know that cute little outfit you love seeing me wear?”

“Ah, I do. That cute little green number you wore when I came home from tour?”

“Mhmm. I made that myself.”

He looks at you in such amazement that it nearly makes you blush. “Che meraviglia! Then I know my shirt is in good hands!”

Papa Emeritus III:

He knew early on that you could sew. With all of the tumbles he’s taken on stage, you had been right there beside him in his dressing room, stitching up any tears he had created. You were also the one who designed his infamous suit, and he refused to have you do it for free. Not only had he given you a nice amount of money, but he had taken you out on such an extravagant date, telling you that you deserved nothing but the best.

“Amore, you’re always doing something,” he pouts softly. His movements are slow, but he gently fondles the material you’ve been running through your sewing machine. “I cannot understand how you always get these ideas. Such a wonderful little mind you have.”

“It’s just like how you write your songs, Terzo.” He always hated it when you called him Papa, saying it made him feel old. “Besides, this isn’t really anything too special.”

“Ah, but it is! Because it’s coming from you!” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I know that whatever you have in the works will be just as beautiful as you are.”

“You always flatter me.” You turn your head so you can kiss his lips. He’s not one to pull away so quick as his hand cups your cheek. But when he does, there’s a playful smirk on his face.

“How about you take a little break, amore? Just for a bit,” he suggests. “I think you’ve given enough time to this project.”

“Terzo, I know I’m never getting a “little” break when it’s with you.” And still, he grins widely as he whisks you away from the sewing machine.

“But you’re never left unsatisfied!”

Papa Emeritus IV/Copia:

It’s a rat. It’s a little crocheted rat with a blue ribbon tied around its neck, staring up at him with such cute button eyes and… wait a second. He nearly cries, noticing how the buttons match his own eyes.

“Topolino! Where did you find this?!” he asks when you finally enter his room. “Oh, it is so wonderful! Did you get it custom-made?”

“Sorta?” you laugh softly. “I made it for you. I know how much you like rats and I thought it would be cute to-”

He doesn’t give you the chance to finish talking. He wraps his arms around you as he hugs you tightly, lifting you off the ground and swinging you around.

“You are too good for me, amore!” He pulls back to kiss your face all over. “I must be the luckiest man to ever live. Oh, it’s so cute, I can’t get over it.”

“I’m glad you like it.” You can’t stop laughing. You had never seen him so happy, aside from when he had finally been made Papa. He’s still holding the little rat in his hands as he admires it.

“And it looks just like Biscuit!” He gives you another kiss. “I can’t thank you enough, topolino. But I must ask: where did you learn how to do this?”

“It’s a hobby I picked up years ago,” you tell him. “I saw all of the cute things people made, I wanted to make my own, and I decided to buy one of those little starter kits.”

“Such talent.” You love how excited he is, especially when he kisses your forehead again. “Would you mind if I watched you one day, amore? I would love to see how you make such a thing!”

“Of course, Papa.”

Papa Nihil:

He always knew you had talent, especially when it came to your crafts. You fixed up his robes and outfits, and you had made custom clothes for his ghouls as well. The poor things weren’t used to being in their human form for so long and would oftentimes just transform back once they were out of the sight of others, their clothes tearing when they grew.

“I could never thank you enough,” He had told you one evening. “With you, I know my ghouls and I are always safe.”

“Of course, Papa.” He might’ve been a bit overzealous, especially while on stage, but he always made sure he showed you how grateful he was for your work and help. Money, gifts, whatever you wanted, he gave it to you. He would’ve given you one of your own ghouls if he could’ve, saying how you probably needed the help with all of the orders you must get.

That was something else he did: show off everything you made for him and his ghouls. The second you told him that he was your only client, Nihil would take some extra time on stage (much to the dismay of his ghouls) to make sure he told anyone and everyone just who was behind their wardrobe design. You had never been so embarrassed and honored at the same time. When you asked him what the hell his problem was, he just gave you that stupid smile and said, “Well, now everyone will have the chance to work with you, and you get money! It’s a win-win!”

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The Papas cooking for their S/O

Under the cut are headcanons of what I think each of the papas would be like if they tried to cook a romantic meal to impress their S/O, as well as what I feel like they would be like in the kitchen in general, their cooking skills etc! This idea just came to me so I decided to make a post about it.

No warnings or anything just pure domestic fluff :)

Keep reading

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Every time I realize how bushy copia’s sideburns actually are I go insane

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"I wanna bewitch you all night~" Excuse me while i'm really drunk and decided to draw something

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Quick sketch of tattoo artist!Copia because…yeah.

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hey -