#i need evil copia

[onedaughterofman]

*hitting Copia with a broom*

STOP *hit* BEING *hit* SILLY *hit* I NEED YOU TO BE THE ANTICHRIST.

[missygoesmeow]

no, im not going to be normal about it :)

[pregnantsecondo]

Unedited and entirely self indulgent fic about Enoch and Secondo a month after the "end" of the world, featuring Olive :)

Out of all the things Secondo would have expected to experience after being resurrected, nightmares had never crossed his mind. Logically, he knew the trauma of being killed and missing over five years of what should have been his life with his family would affect him, but Secondo had never been the type to have nightmares. So when he had one, he never saw it coming.

As far as nightmares went, it was rather tame. Secondo wasn't running from some vague threat chasing him and his teeth certainly weren't falling out. He was simply back at the moment he had died, sitting at a table with his brothers and losing horribly at Uno. Only this time, he knew what was coming.

He had tried to open his mouth, tried to warn his brothers, tried to do anything at all, but it didn't work. He never deviated from what had happened, and only felt fear for the incoming pain and the sudden blackness.

When it happened, it hit him like a truck. Suddenly, rough arms were around him, keeping him still and driving that needle into his neck. He tried to call out for Enoch just like he had done that horrible night, feeling guilty for leaving him behind yet again. But instead of sinking into that pitch black again, Secondo woke up.

His eyes opened, and he was staring at the familiar sight of his ceiling and breathing heavily. The fear that had coiled in his chest began to dissipate, and Secondo breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive, and he was fine.

And, judging by the warm weight of Enoch sleeping beside him, Enoch was fine as well.

Secondo turned to him and smiled. It had been a month since he was brought back, and it had been a difficult one. Secondo had felt so angry. Not at Enoch, never at Enoch, but at the people who should have taken care of him, who should have been there.

Secondo scowled slightly as he watched Enoch sleep, his anger now replacing his fear. Copia was lucky to have gotten away before Secondo regained his strength. Secondo had never killed a human before, but he would have for Enoch.

Still, at the end of the day, Secondo still had Enoch. They were happy together. Not like before, because Secondo was very much aware that nothing could ever go back to how it was. No, It was a new kind of happiness. It felt final.

Secondo leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Enoch's waist, pulling him closer and kissing the back of his neck. The man was sleeping, but Secondo still wanted to touch him and show him that he was loved.

He didn't expect Enoch to speak to him, and he certainly did not expect the words that Enoch had said.

“Copia, stop,” Enoch groaned, half asleep. He moved away from Secondo's touch, one of his hands pushing Secondo's grasp off his waist as he rolled over and fell back asleep.

It was such a tiny thing. Enoch wouldn't even remember that he said it when he wakes up in the morning, but Secondo could feel his heart break all over again.

Secondo didn't bring it up to Enoch, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. He wondered if that was what Enoch subconsciously associated with touch now. If he only felt threatened now because of what Copia had done. Enoch had always been rather closed off, both physically and emotionally. He didn't like touch, and Secondo had known that. Before his death, Secondo was Enoch's exception to the rule. Enoch let Secondo touch him, even encouraging it at points. He had felt safe around him, and Secondo treasured that feeling.

Of course it would be different, Secondo realized over breakfast the next morning. Years had passed in Secondo's absence, and many terrible things had happened.

Secondo felt angry with himself now. Enoch had wanted to leave the ministry back when Terzo had been dethroned. He had told Secondo this many times, and every time Secondo had told him to wait. To wait until Secondo helped Terzo, to wait until the ministry decided who would be the next Papa, to wait until Secondo was ready. If Secondo had listened to him, had packed up all of their things and left, would things be different? Maybe Secondo wouldn't have been killed in the first place. Maybe Enoch would have been safe and happy even as Copia and Sister Imperator took control of the church. Secondo could be with Enoch now, raising the child that he had with him instead of-

Secondo stopped himself. He couldn't think like that. Enoch would hate to know that he was having these sorts of thoughts.

Secondo continued to drink his coffee in silence, listening to Enoch as he moved about their little home. They had moved a few weeks prior, as Enoch was unable to stand being in the ministry anymore. Secondo didn't argue with him that time, because he wanted to leave as well. Besides, with Copia’s disappearance and Sister Imperator’s death, that meant someone had to lead the church.

Thankfully, Terzo stepped up to that role. He was happy in it, Secondo believed. Even more so since everyone who had stopped him from reaching his full potential the first time was now dead.

Secondo sighed to himself. He would need to call Terzo. Hopefully he would have some advice for him about this. The younger brother seemed to be very understanding about Enoch's situation, more than Secondo thought possible.

“Look who's awake already!” Enoch said softly from the hallway. Secondo turned and saw Enoch carrying a sleepy Olive in his arms. The boy leaned against his father, his eyes only half open and his hair messy from sleep.

Enoch set him in his chair and kissed him on the head before bringing him his food and a juice box. Secondo watched the two of them, his heart wrenching in his chest. Olive looked like Copia, especially as he sipped his juice.

The feelings that burned in Secondo's chest were not jealousy or anger. It was grief. Grief and love.

“Good morning.” Secondo said to Olive, “How did you sleep?”

Olive looked up at Secondo, his mismatched eyes meeting Secondo's own. Secondo felt himself smile.

“I had a dream that papa made too much pasta sauce.” Olive said sadly, “It was bleh.”

Enoch faltered for a second at the mention of Copia, but quickly caught himself. Sitting down at the table, he smiled at his son.

“Feel free to tell us if we make too much sauce at dinner.” Enoch said softly, “Though, keep in mind that we are having guests tonight. We'll need extra sauce.”

Olive perked up at this, clenching and unclenching his fists in excitement.

“Will papa be coming home?” Olive asked, “Do you think he'll bring me a present?”

Enoch's smile fell. He looked at Secondo for support, but Secondo didn't know what to say. No one knew where Copia was or if he would ever come back. Personally, Secondo hoped Copia never showed his face again, but…well, Olive deserved to see his father.

“Not tonight.” Enoch said, and Olive wilted. For a few weeks now, his questions about where Copia was had grown in number. It seemed that every day he was asking for answers, answers that Enoch could not give him.

“But your sisters are coming for dinner. They'll be staying with us for a few days, and we're going to have fun.”

Olive nodded silently, still upset at the fact that his father wasn't returning today.

“And…I'll get you a present instead. Anything you want! You can come with me to the airport and you can pick out anything from the gift shop.”

Olive smiled at this, momentarily forgetting his sadness.

“Really?” He asked, “Anything at all?”

“Within reason.” Enoch told him, “I'm not buying you the plane.”

Olive laughed at this, before giggling to himself as he ate his breakfast. Enoch breathed a sigh of relief before he turned to Secondo.

“Do you want to go with us?” He asked, “I’ll get you a gift too, if you’d like?”

Secondo nodded, before reaching for Enoch's hand. The touch of his skin against Secondo's almost burned, the memory of what Enoch had said coming to the forefront of his mind.

“You're the only gift I need.” Secondo said, fully aware of how cheesy he sounded. He didn't care. He meant it, and he needed Enoch to know this.

Enoch scoffed, rolling his eyes and squeezing Secondo's hand.

“You are a sap,” He replied, “but I feel the same.” Enoch lifted his hand and pressed his lips against Secondo's knuckles, his breath tickling the hair on his hand.

“My love.” Enoch whispered.

Secondo smiled. They were going to be okay.

[ratgirlcopia]

send me an emoji and i'll tell you why it's conclusive proof that copia is going to transition.

[visiosatanae]

I know I just posted horny desperate Copia not that long ago, but the brain worms are still eating at me. I need him absolutely depraved. I think I need to go darker 🤔

[sucharide]

my soft copia fantasy to go to sleep to is

sharing a bed and being his little spoon and he holds your belly so tenderly like he loves all of you even your tummy. i do not feel like explaining myself.

[copiasblair]

i had. dinner

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 1st

Pegging, Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 2.2k.

Warnings: Pegging; established relationship; praise kink; anal fingering (m receiving); anal sex (m receiving); fellatio; use of sex toys; sub!Copia; soft dom!Reader (but you’re still a little mean to him); gender neutral!reader (but reader does have a vulva); mild humiliation kink; hella fluffy because Copia deserves the world; premature ejaculation; overstimulation; tears; happy ending.

🔞 MDNI 🔞

It didn’t take much to get him all worked up. Depending on the kind of day he’d had, it could just even be a look that got Copia ready and waiting for you to do whatever you wanted. He was an easy mother fucker, especially for the right mother - or rather - person.

Which is how he ended up spread-eagle on his bed, one of his pillows in his mouth as your fingers went deep inside his tight hole. His cock was rock hard and bounced a little every time you touched a sensitive spot and made his hips buck. Although his eyes remained tightly closed and that was something you couldn’t abide by. Not only was he keeping his desperate whimpers to a minimum, he refused to let you see the needy look on his face. You tutted and removed your fingers from him.

Immediately, his lids opened in terror and his gaze snapped to you. “No! Per favore! Don’t stop, ti scongiuro!” In his need, he sat up and began peppering kisses all over your face. “Amore mio, per favore non fermarti. I need more, please.”

“But your eyes were closed, baby.” You responded, your tone somewhat condescending especially for a man twice your age. “You were quiet. I didn’t think you were enjoying it.”

His kisses became more ferocious but his hands were clinging onto your neck. “Non è vero! It’s not true. I love it. Ti amo. Please, dolcezza. Please give me more.” This was so far from the Papa you’d grown to know - this was exactly how the Cardinal acted. Touch starved and desperate. Yet here was the head of the Satanic Church fumbling his words and begging for release.

He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. While he was still sat up a little, you moved your hand sneakily towards his hole and began rubbing over it once more. This earned you a loud yet surprised moan. With a little extra lube, you slid a third finger in and felt one of his hands clasp your forearm. He wasn’t whimpering as much, but he was breathing heavily, as though he were trying to stave off an impending orgasm.

Taunting your Papa was the most fun thing to do, especially when he was all spread out in front of you at your complete and total mercy. He didn’t expect anything from you, especially when you were knuckle deep inside of him. So when you leaned forward and ran your tongue up his cock from base to tip, he screamed and bucked again. “Merda.” He whined. “What are you try-trying to do to your Papa? Do you want to kill me, dolcezza?”

You chuckled a small, evil laugh before responding. “Of course not, Papa. But when you look so deliciously tempting, I can’t help myself.” Finding that spot inside of him now that you had three fingers working at him was easy. Combine that with what your mouth was doing and he was convinced he was going to have a heart attack. Your mouth, now quiet had taken the entire head of his cock into your mouth, and was gently sucking on it.

“Amore mio, if you keep doing this Papa will not last.”

You removed your lips from him and looked up at him through your eyelashes. “You don’t want to cum?”

“I do!”

“In my mouth?”

He shook his head so you stopped moving your fingers. “NO!” He replied when he realised what you were doing. You continued your ministrations, rewarding him for his words.

“On my fingers?”

“No, dolcezza, please.”

“Well, where would you like to cum, Papa?” Calling him Papa while he was submitting to you felt criminal. Papa was for the strongest of leaders, Papa was for the leaders who bent others into submission. Papa wasn’t for the shy, clumsy and awkward men who willingly spread themselves for their partners. But here yours was - ready, willing, waiting, and humiliated beyond satisfaction.

“Non farmi dire questo.” His hands now were covering his face in embarrassment.

“I can’t make you feel good if you don’t tell me where you want to cum.”

He muffled something only his hands caught. So you gently prized them apart gently with your free hand to see his bright red face, and his bottom lip stuck between his teeth. “Tell me, my love. Where do you want to cum?”

He took in a deep breath. “On your cock!” He exclaimed quickly.

“Good boy.” Your praise affected him more than he would like to say, but his hole clenched around your fingers as it registered in his brain. “Do you think you’re ready for it?”

“Sì.”

You kissed his lips softly before pulling your fingers out of him. He whined into your mouth at the lost of you, and as you tried to break the kiss he kept following you. He was clingier than usual. “I won’t go far, precious. I promise.” You said when your lips were finally free.

He chased you to the edge of the bed and watched you strap yourself into the harness. His hands were aching to get hold of you again, but knew he needed to be patient for you. You went to the bedside drawer and pulled out one of the dildos you’d both selected online months prior, and his eyes were completely fixated on it as you attached it to the harness. It wasn’t overwhelmingly big, but big enough that it would stretch him out more than your fingers would.

Knowing how clingy he was feeling, you went straight back to him and immediately wrapped him in your arms, his head falling on your chest. His hands gripped your waist tightly as he took in your scent. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” He said.

“Do you think you can lube it up for me?” He nodded and leaned across to the bedside table to grab the lube and poured some onto the toy. “Make sure you get it nice and wet for me, yeah?”

He nodded again. Both of you were transfixed by his hand touching the dildo, wrapping around it and spreading the lube up and down as though he were stroking a real cock. You were both silent as you listened to the squelching of the liquid in between his hands as he rubbed, losing his mind to the thought of it finally entering him. As soon as he thought it was ready, he nodded and lay back eagerly. His legs spread once again, and you watched him deposit the leftover lubricant into his waiting and stretched hole. You waited until his hand was removed before you climbed over him.

You kissed his sensitive neck, and travelled all the way up to his mouth, where you gave him a deep and gentle kiss - another touch that made him whimper. He bucked up one final time, and groaned at the feeling of his cock rubbing against yours.

“I’m ready, amore mio. Per favore. I need it.”

You lined yourself up with his waiting hole. “Tell me when you need to stop, okay?”

“Okay.”

As you breached his walls, his mouth fell open in an ‘o’ shape, his eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. You were slow with your movements, almost maddeningly so, and his hands flew to your biceps and gripped tightly. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed, a lot more loudly than he intended.

You stopped. “Are you okay?”

He could barely breathe. “It feels incredible.” He propped himself up enough to reach your cheeks and began kissing you again. “More. More, please.”

You obliged and continued to push into him until the dildo was all the way inside him. He kept kissing you as you paused, waiting for him to get accustomed to the feeling. He, on the other hand, had different ideas. As he was kissing you, he also began to slowly rock up and down, feeling your cock move inside of him. “I take it you want me to move, hm?”

“Please!” He begged.

And so, you did. Gently at first so you didn’t hurt him, but as his moans became louder, you understood he was ready for a bit more handling. So, your thrusts got faster and faster.

Until you watched him spasm beneath you, his breath knocked out of him and his mouth wide open. You looked between you to where you were connected, and watched as the remains of his seed spilled out of him. Much faster than both of you had hoped, but he was so worked up you were surprised he lasted that long.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated that over and over again, tears forming in his eyes from his overwhelming emotions.

You were still inside him. “Can you give me one more, Copia?”

He seemed shocked at the sudden use of his name. He thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, amore mio. I can give you one more.”

“Good boy.”

He keened at your praise but hissed when you pulled out. You were gentle, tentative, but you wanted to wreck him a little more. So, when you were sure he could take it, you didn’t hold back.

His grip on your arm returned but this time much harder, fingernails digging in and holding on for dear life. Your thrusts were almost brutal, but you knew he was living for it. Each one punctuated with his sounds - whether they were outright overstimulated screams, chokes, or even the sound of his hole sucking the toy back in. He was practically singing. Your moans would occasionally join the cacophony of sounds, not because you were feeling particularly good, but because you knew he appreciated them.

You stopped once more to pull out and hear his groans of disappointment. “I want you to ride me,” you told him, “let me see you take my cock.”

Copia gulped but nodded. He had never allowed himself to be so exposed before, and he certainly had never been the top in this position. He felt himself getting shy again, and if it wasn’t you he wouldn’t even attempt it. With a hiss, he climbed onto you and lowered himself down. His cock was red and angry, and dried cum stained his stomach from his first orgasm and had been forgotten about until just then. He looked positively sinful, sweaty and blushing red.

In order to help him find a rhythm, you held onto his hands and pinned your elbows to the bed, giving him the leverage he needed to work his hips over the dildo, expletives in Italian being mumbled in between his whimpers. Once he found a rhythm and forgot how exposed he was, he let your hands go and began bouncing on his own, using you to get himself off. Your hands were now free, and one clutched onto his bouncing cock and begin to stroke it.

“Tell me how you feel, Papa.”

“Si se-sente bene.”

“Bene?” Your voice was back to condescending. “Only bene? Poor Papa, struggling to pull a decent sentence together.”

“I-”

“You’re so tight and desperate for cock, aren’t you, Papa?” He nodded emphatically. “Do you feel good riding me like this? Taking me for your own pleasure?”

“Dolcezza, per favore!”

“What, Papa? What do you want?”

“I need more.”

“More what?”

“Y-your hand… please.” You stopped stroking his cock. “No! You can’t do this - your - Your hand, stroke my cock, please!” Your hand gripped him again. “Tighter, please.” You obliged now that he was using his words. “Merda! F-feels good. So good. I can’t stop.” He was riding you harder now, his own words egging him on and sending him closer and closer to the edge.

“Do you want to cum, Papa?”

“Sì.”

“Cum for me, Papa. Cum all over me.”

Sure enough, his second orgasm spilled from him. His hips twitched erratically as he covered you in his seed, gasping for air as though he was suffocating. He couldn’t make any noise even if he wanted to - he couldn’t even hear you talking him through it. All he could feel was your tight hand wrapped around his sensitivity and still pumping him until he was completely spent. Not to mention the dildo still in his hole, keeping still while he wiggled and providing him with aftershocks that could bring his sanity crumbling down. He collapsed onto you, completely unable to move himself, and it fell upon you to make him come back to reality.

You stroked his hair and kept talking him through it, waiting until his ears stopped ringing enough to listen to your instructions. Eventually, he came to, and lay on his side after he’d painfully dragged himself off of you and waited for you to remove the harness and come back.

His eyes were closed from exhaustion and he jumped in surprise when he felt your hand on his thigh. “I’m sorry, I have to clean you up.”

“Va bene. Grazie, amore mio.” His voice was weak, but there was a lazy smile on his face.

As soon as you were finished, you came back to bed and wrapped him in your arms. “You were so good for me, Copia.”

He moved his head level to you. “You’re always good to me.”

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

[discordsmuse]

Discordsmuse Masterlist

❀•°❀°•❀

Hello friends! Finally putting together a masterlist to make it easier for you guys to find all my fanfics here since I only post to AO3!

These will be organized by fandom and character.

❀•°❀°•❀

Baldur's Gate 3

Halsin

dance me to the end of love, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav and Halsin admit to their feelings post-Moonrise and fuck on a balcony.

Silence, NSFW/18+ : Fem!Tav and Halsin fuck in a closet

Do Unto Others, NSFW/18+ : Fem!Tav wants to give Halsin some attention and convinces him to let her be the giver for once.

Enver Gortash

body more than just a flesh, you can sell it for success, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav is invited to dinner with the Archduke and things get a little heated.

i will give you all that you need, NSFW/18+: Sequel to the above, Fem!Tav and Gortash bathe together before Enver gets a little handsy.

gracious men are those who suffer, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav and Enver w/ a free use kink.

legacy with no memory, NSFW/18+: Fem!Durge and Enver Gortash w/a pregnancy kink

I wanna know my god, At least enough to fear Her, NSFW/18+: Fem!Durge and Gortash have a lil bit of hate sex

Gale Dekarios

be my nightfire, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav catches Gale mid-alone time. Feelings and sex ensue.

Abdirak

sanctify you bedsheets with the sweat along your hips, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav is fascinated by Abdirak and nervously asks him to teach her about Loviatar.

Raphael

delightful little detour, NSFW/18+: Canon rewrite for what happens when Fem!Tav tells Raphael he's bad at sex.

Let the Dream Begin, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav/Raphael Phantom of the Opera AU, slowburn

Office Hours, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav/Raphael College AU

Rolan

i wanna have a home, i wanna share it, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav and Rolan get together post-saving the tieflings from moonrise.

❀•°❀°•❀

Pirates of the Caribbean

Hector Barbossa

The Pirate Lord, NSFW/18+: Barbossa/Reader post-Elizabeth being kinged.

All That Glitters, NSFW/18+: Longform Barbossa/Reader canon rewrite pre-CotBP

Liar's Bet, NSFW/18+: Longform Barbossa/Reader canon rewrite during CotBP and DMC

feel the edges start to burn, NSFW/18+: Barbossa/Reader where reader is friends w/Carina

❀•°❀°•❀

Harry Potter

Severus Snape

isn't it lovely (all alone), NSFW/18+: Snape/Reader closet sex

no death in rebirth, NSFW/18+: Snape/Reader longform amnesia oneshot

Brought to Life, NSFW/18+: Snape/Reader marauder's era classmates to lovers lol

❀•°❀°•❀

Dead by Daylight

Canon/Canon

Contention, NSFW/18+: Ace/Meg against a tree hatesex

Breaking Point, NSFW/18+: Megmillan first time

It's Alright, Teen/16+: The survivors and killers recover post-entity

Anna/The Huntress

Not so much taming as growing accustomed, Mature/16+, Huntress/Reader friendship to lovers

Herman Carter/The Doctor

Untethered, NSFW/18+, The Doctor/Reader where reader annoying him but in the fun, bratty way

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Resident Evil Village

Karl Heisenberg

Business Partners with Benefits, NSFW/18+: Heisenberg/Reader where reader is Moreau's niece

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Spider Man

Dr. Otto Octavius/Doc Ock

Working Overtime, NSFW/18+: Otto/Reader where reader is his lab assistant

Bedside Manner, NSFW/18+: Otto/Reader where reader is Doc Ock's lover

❀•°❀°•❀

Labyrinth

Jareth the Goblin King

Midsummer, NSFW/18+: Jareth/Reader at the midsummer fae ball

don't leave me lonely, NSFW/18+: Jareth/Reader sequel to Midsummer

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The band Ghost

Papa Emeritus IV/Cardinal Copia

Better Than, NSFW/18+: Copia/Reader where he's a little insecure about Terzo being better than him

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Dracula

Dracula (lol)

Nice Costume, NSFW/18+: Dracula/Reader in a modern setting at a party

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Our Flag Means Death

Israel Hands

we do get desperate, now and again, Mature/16+: Fem!Reader/Izzy hurt/comfort unrequited love.

i wanna be yours, Mature/18+: Fem!Reader/Izzy first time together

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The Quarry (2022)

Travis Hackett/Laura Kearney

• fell in love with the fever, Explicit/18+: Travis and Laura are forced to spend some time together 6 months after the incident.

❀•°❀°•❀

This list will grow/change as I write more :D Thanks for reading!

[gravehags]

unholy, unholy, unholy

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

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: the ministry being the catholic church's evil twin, manipulation, masturbation, confession, copia lowkey being a desperate little sex freak my beloved

Words: 5,153

Summary: You really walked right into this, you tell yourself. You can't even be mad at Copia for suggesting it.

a/n: can't believe the last thing i wrote for these losers was at christmas...damn. anyway you know how i like my non-chronological shit so this takes place somewhere in between take me apart and satan baby. i'm not done making these two dance around their feelings just yet.

divider by @ghuleh-recs!

“Jesus fucking Christ Almighty.”

You slam your office door shut with your hip and Cardinal Copia turns to look at you from his seat.

“Need help?”

With a grunt and a shake of your head you walk past him and set the bag of food down on your desk, heaving a deep sigh.

“Had to go on a fucking scavenger hunt because the goddamn DoorDash driver left the bag with a maintenance worker, who gave it to one of Terzo’s ghouls, who left it in a stairwell for some reason…don’t ask me how I managed to find it because fuck if I know.”

Dramatically you flop into your desk chair and give your lunch companion a look as he begins to sort out your meals with a smile.

“You know you eh…take the Lord’s name in vain quite a bit for someone who wasn’t raised in religion.”

When he passes your container of Pad see ew to you, you grin.

“Ehhh you know, the perils of being raised in a predominantly Christian society. It’s funny, the first time I said ‘Jesus Christ’ I was maybe…I don’t know nine? Ten? And my mom tersely told me ‘don’t say that’ to which I replied ‘why not?’ I don’t think she knew how to answer that question in a way that would make me care, you know? I had gone all my little life not giving a shit about Jesus, why would I now?”

Copia chuckles and cracks open his own takeaway box.

“Ah cara, you continue to stray further and further from God’s light every day. Thank Sathanas for that, hmm?”

With a smile, you clink your soda can against his and dig into your meal.

“You ever think about how fascinating your religion is, Copia?”

You prop your feet up on your desk as Copia delicately picks noodles out of his box with chopsticks. 

“Eh, how do you mean?”

“Like…you’re a Satanic cardinal. You’ve sworn your life to uphold the tenets of Satanism. You…we live at a massive complex dedicated to Satan. One of many complexes throughout the world, apparently. And yet, barely anyone knows of the Ministry’s existence. It’s wild, really.”

He makes a thoughtful noise as he chews on a particularly crunchy piece of bok choy.

“Ah, well,” he begins, setting his chopsticks down and reaching for the soda resting on the desk, “we’re trying to change that. In…subtle ways.”

“Mmm, the Ghost project.”

“Sì, the idea is we use Papa to spread our message through music - something that is accessible to many people.”

“With the hopes that you and your evil brethren can dominate the globe?” you say, scrunching your nose playfully and giving him a big wink.

“Something like that,” he smiles wryly.

“Well I’ve listened to some of the project’s music and I gotta say…big fan. I think your sinister subliminal messaging is working on me.”

“Oh?” he asks, setting down his food in order to cross his legs and give you a curious stare. “Tell me more, cara. Do I have a future sister of sin on my hands?”

You close your eyes and laugh, missing the hungry way the Cardinal watches the line of your throat as your head tilts back.

“Maybe…let’s just say I’m intrigued. How could I not be when I’m surrounded by it all the time?”

He nods, resting a gloved hand on his knee and straightening his cassock.

“Perhaps…”

You fix him with a look you know will make him lose his train of thought for a moment. Positively wicked.

“Perhaps…?”

“Perhaps,” he clears his throat, eyes darting away from yours, “you would like to attend one of our services?”

You nod gamely. 

“Is a super cool and hip youth pastor going to tell me about the ways the Devil cares about me unconditionally?”

He rolls his eyes and fixes you with an unamused stare.

“Very funny, dolcezza. Would you prefer that I have you sit with Papa Nihil while he explains the history of the Emeritus bloodline?”

You balk. The wizened Papa had a distinct dislike of you for some odd reason. You often wonder how he manages to give you such dirty looks through his cloudy eyes. You didn’t particularly care, however, as you saw the way he constantly brushed off and mistreated Copia during staff meetings. Nihil irked you to no end, no matter how much Sister Imperator liked him.

“Alright, fine, sorry. I only jest to get a rise out of you, I know how important your religion is to you. And hey, anything that has the drama and aesthetics of the Catholic Church without all the guilt and trauma has my full attention. Please don’t be mad.”

He grunts but you see the way his mustache twitches as he fights back a smile. You flutter your eyelashes a little and in a moment of boldness, take your lower lip between your teeth. The way his mismatched eyes dart to your mouth and his jaw hangs open makes you giddy.

“I’m–,” his voice comes out as a hoarse rasp, “I forgive you, cara.”

“Thank you for absolving me of my sins, Your Eminence.”

He has to know you’re doing this on purpose at this point. You’re not sure what has gotten into you today but something about the way he stares at you now makes you want to grab him by his pellegrina and haul him over your desk for a sloppy kiss. There’s a heavy tension between the two of you, not for the first time, as if all one of you needs to do is take a step forward and all hell would break loose.

“So, you want me to go to a service? What like black mass? Unholy baptism? Virgin sacrifice?”

The spell is broken and briefly your swagger flickers, wondering if you’ve crossed a line.

“Eh, maybe someday but your statement about sin made me think…perhaps confession would be more suited to you?”

Now your jaw falls open and you can feel your cheeks light up as he watches you with a smirk toying at the corners of his mouth. The tables have turned and now you’re the one left speechless.

“O-oh?” you ask, voice a little higher than normal, “so if Catholic confession is about getting your sins forgiven, then Satanic confession is…having your sins…celebrated?”

“Corretto,” he says with a generous nod, “we’ll go through each one in ah…intimate detail.”

“We?” you squeak out, stomach dropping severely, “I hadn’t realized that you would be presiding.”

“Oh sì,” he says, the smirk on his face positively devilish, “although if you’d prefer someone else…”

“No,” you say just a little too quickly, your heart pounding, “I…I don’t know how much sinning I really get up to. I’ll probably bore you to tears.”

“You might be surprised, dolcezza,” Christ the nickname sounds devious on his lips right now, “What is it they say? ‘Still waters run deep’?”

Your laugh comes out just a little too loud and unnatural and you kick yourself.

“Ha…right. We…we should probably get back to this cataloging or Sister Imperator is going to publicly execute me.”

The rest of the afternoon proceeds normally, with the two of you diligently organizing the abbey’s collection of illuminated manuscripts. When you finally part, he gives you the date, time, and directions to the chapel where the confession booth is located.

“Cara,” he murmurs as you begin to walk away, “you don’t have to do this.”

You give him a half-smile and shake your head.

“I think it will be good for me,” you say, hands behind your back as you rock onto your heels, “and besides, how could I say no to spending an evening with you?”

You make sure not to turn away until you see the full breadth of his dazed expression and by the time your back is to him and you’re walking away, there’s a loopy grin on your face. It’s not til you turn the corner and reach the staircase to your quarters the full realization of what you’ve agreed to dawns upon you. 

Oh fuck.

You don’t see Copia the next two days between his duties and your own and for that you’re extremely thankful. The date of your confession has arrived and you’re equal parts nauseated and exhilarated. Having never gone to confession of any sort before, you’re not entirely sure what to expect. You’re not ignorant - you’ve seen confession scenes in the media and have heard from friends raised in Catholicism - but what little you do know doesn’t assuage your anxiety. This was Satanic confession. A whole different beast. Your mind conjures images of blood rituals and sacrifices and being on your knees before Copia…his gloved hand tilting your chin upwards to look at him…

Christ Almighty, get your shit together.

You desperately try to, as you sternly told yourself, get your shit together but your mind is clouded the rest of your workday with positively sinful scenes of the two of you. You’re particularly fond of the one where he’s got you in his office, your skirt hiked up over your hips as you bend over his desk and he pushes himself inside you from behind. The thought of his voice in your head, calling you his sweet little nicknames as he fucks into you, makes you practically drip. The final two hours in your office are torture before you’re able to skitter back to your rooms. You’re not meeting with Copia for another few hours and you need to do something about the ache between your thighs. Impatiently, you fumble for the buttons on your blouse with one hand while pushing your skirt off with another. You must look a sight, ripping your bra off and flinging it somewhere on the floor, but all you can think about now is getting to your bed. You almost trip twice in the journey to your room, blindly stumbling over and flinging yourself on the mattress. What has gotten into you? You’ve been horny before, about Copia sure, but this? The way you’re practically whining when your hands meet your bare breasts? You feel positively feral. 

“Copia,” you breathe, fingers pinching at your nipples. You imagine his hands on you, the way the leather would warm as he strokes your soft skin.

Dolcezza. 

Fuck, you can hear it perfectly and it makes you sigh, one of your hands slowly sliding down your body to cup the heat of you. You’re sopping and time feels like it slows as you spread yourself open and slide two fingers against your engorged clit. All of your frantic rushing from earlier ceases as you twitch under your own touch, his name on your lips. You’re so sensitive right now it barely takes anything to bring you over the edge, but, you think as your orgasm wanes, it’s not quite enough. Taking a slow exhale in you slip your fingers lower and tease at your entrance. The digits glide in easily enough with the abundance of slick coming from you and languorously you begin to pump them in and out. Your eyes slide shut and you imagine it’s his dexterous fingers instead, curling inside you so you can feel every stitch and groove of his glove. 

Cara mia, he’d murmur into your ear, so wet for me. So sweet for your Cardinal, eh? You honor me.

The whimpers crawling out of your mouth are getting more frequent and higher in pitch - you know you’re close. You bring your palm flat against yourself to push on your clit as your hips continue to make little circles, driving your fingers deeper in. Your hand is aching but it doesn’t stop you from pulling another orgasm out of yourself, chanting his name. Tears pool in your eyes and slide down your temples as you sob aloud and all of a sudden it’s too much. Your body spasms on the duvet, breath coming in harsh pants as you attempt to slow the thundering of your heart. It’s not the first time you’ve touched yourself to the thought of him, by any means, but something feels…different. More charged. You’re exhausted, bone tired as you try to organize your feelings. Reaching a hand up to rub your face you turn over and look at the clock. 

5:32 PM

Your eyelids are heavy but you manage to lean over the side of your bed and locate your phone to set an alarm. Some sleep would do you good. Clear your head.

You don’t dream.

—------

Cazzo, cazzo, cazzo.

Copia paces back and forth in the small, dimly lit (romantically lit, some would say) chapel. The last sibling of the evening just left and now all that remains is…you. He barely heard what the siblings were telling him this evening, so anxious was he and caught up in the thought of you soon being in their position. More than once his vision went blurry as he imagined you a breath away, separated only by the decorative wooden screen.

He was so eager for you to walk through that door, now he’s not sure. With a heavy sigh through his nose he looks down at his watch.

6:58 PM

You’re always punctual and he counts on tonight being no different. Resigned to his fate, he shuffles over to the confession booth and opens the door, slotting himself inside. Shit, his ass hurts from the hard bench, why in fuck’s name had they not added a cushion to this side like there was on the other? He’s grumbling to himself in Italian when he hears the chapel door squeak open and firmly shut. Your soft footsteps approach - you must be wearing your sneakers and not your boots for the distinct clacking sound he usually hears from you has vanished. He sucks in a breath when he hears you open your side of the booth and quietly shut it. There’s a silence between the two of you so profound that when you finally speak he jumps.

“Hey. You’re in there right?”

He makes a loud, vague noise and sees your shoulders drop through the screen. He can’t get a read on your expression but the anxiety in the air has softened with your posture. 

“Good evening,” he begins, a little stiffly. “Eh, welcome.”

You breathe out heavy through your nose.

“Copia, is this a good idea?”

He pauses and looks down to pull at a loose thread on his cuff.

“Are…are you nervous, cara?”

You let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh.

“Yeah, I’m fucking nervous! I’ve never even been to a regular confession let alone…this.”

“Well, we begin with the ceremonial bloodletting and–”

“Oh fuck off,” you grouse, flicking the screen that separates you. You fall silent after a moment.

“Cara, are you truly that anxious? Because we don’t have to do any–”

“I’m fine, Copia. Really. I don’t know why I'm so worked up. Fear of the unknown, I suppose,” you clear your throat and hears you crack your neck.

“Bene. Shall I go over the process with you? And remember this is a celebration. No shaming. No guilt. No wrong answers.”

You take a deep breath in and he sees you nod.

“I will start with the blessing and then we will go through the seven cardinal sins one by one. You may describe yours as briefly or lengthy as you like and we will venerate them. Once we have finished, I will close with a blessing. Then we will part. Nothing to be nervous about, eh? Are you ready?”

“Yes, please.”

“Very good,” he clears his throat and straightens his shoulders. “In nomine Padre, et Filio, et lo Spiritus Malum…we welcome this most sacred sinner into your embrace that she may revel in her transgressions against God.”

When he addresses you by name, he sees you jump.

“Let us begin with the Original Sin - pride.”

“Okay. Yeah. Pride.” There’s a few seconds of silence before he hears you softly curse. “Sorry, I should have made a list or something.”

“Take your time,” he says with a smile, simply content to be in your presence, “I have nowhere to be, cara. I am right here, ready when you are.”

He can see your eyelashes flutter as you look down and your cheeks bunch in a soft smile. Although mostly obscured, the sight still makes his heart soar. After a minute or so of silence you speak.

“Oh! Okay, uh pride. Well I was going to tell you about this anyway but…you know that little write-up I did of Satanic art in the time of the Counter-Reformation?”

“Naturalmente, it was superb.”

“Thank you. Well I thought it was too so I submitted it to a journal for publishing…and they accepted it.”

He can practically hear your grin and it makes him beam in return.

“Cara mia! Congratulazioni! You deserve nothing less! Although I hope you do not consider it a sin to rightfully celebrate an occasion such as this?”

You sigh.

“Ah, I don’t know. I may have bragged a bit too much to other people in the field. Felt a little too self-satisfied about it. So I think that would count, right?”

He scoffs.

“To Papa Frankie, maybe. To us it is a well-deserved acknowledgement of your hard work and something you have every right to be proud of. Dolcezza, even if you hesitate to celebrate yourself, know that I always will do so for you. Published in a journal, well done cara.”

He may not be able to see it in the low light of the confessional but he can picture your flushed cheeks perfectly in his mind.

“Anything else you would like to say on the matter?”

“No, that’s it.”

“Are you ready for the next?”

“Yes,” you say, with greater confidence, “let’s continue.”

“Onto the next. Envy.”

“Ah,” you seem to deflate a little and his brows knit together, “well about that. This…wow this is embarrassing.”

“No such thing as embarrassing at this moment. It’s a safe space, remember?”

“Right,” you huff, “okay well here it goes then. I see the sisters of sin every day walking around the corridors, working in the library, in the dining hall and…I envy them. I envy their bold confidence in their appearance and their sexuality.”

He’s silent for a moment, weighing whether or not he should say what he’s thinking. But you deserve to hear this.

“Confidence is not only represented by eh, wearing short skirts and high heels. I see you exude it every day when you’re bossing me around, no?”

You bark out a laugh and it lightens his heart.

“Truth be told,” he sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I’m not the best person to be taking advice on confidence from. But I know how to recognize it and I see it in you.”

“Thank you,” you murmur so softly he thinks he might have made it up, “can we move on?”

“Si,” he says before clearing his throat, “next one is wrath.”

He hears you suck in a breath through your teeth.

“Oh, I’ve got a good one for this. Well…not good. It wasn’t my best moment. But it definitely fits the bill.”

He makes a noise prompting you to continue.

“You know that new painting that Sister Imperator got at auction? The one of Lilith and Faust? It arrived last week and she asked me to oversee its unboxing. I told all the siblings working with me that once the box was open the painting was to be handled with archival gloves. I had to step out of the room for a second to talk to the head librarian and when I came back…not a glove to be found and the painting was halfway out of its crate. Copia I…I lost my shit. You know me I-I don’t get mad. But the fact that they had disregarded my instruction and got their bare fingers on that canvas, then acted ignorant about the whole thing…Christ, Copia I saw red. I don’t even remember half of what I yelled at them. I had to walk out before I did something I would regret. God, I already regretted raising my voice. I didn’t report them to Sister Imperator but she found out somehow…maybe the librarian? I don’t know what their punishment was but I haven’t seen them since. Copia, it was awful. I was awful.”

“With good reason,” he replies promptly, “they should have respected your authority as a professional in the field and by not doing so not only did they potentially damage Ministry property, but they also embarrassed themselves. Idioti. Though I would have liked to have seen you all riled up.” A confession of his own - Sathanas would he have loved to see you flying at them like a demon, your claws sharp and your words sharper. The thought sends a shiver of arousal down his spine and he takes a moment to gather himself before speaking again.

“Is that all you wish to say?”

“Yes. Can we please move on?”

“Very well. Next is sloth.”

You’re silent for a moment and his heart sinks, hoping you’re not dwelling too much on your last confession. He opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it.

“Sloth, yeah. I, uh,” you let out a giggle and he’s relieved to hear it, “none of these can get me in trouble with Sister Imperator, right?”

“No,” he says slowly, a grin curling his lips, “this is just between us.”

“Okay good. Do you remember a couple weeks back when I texted you that I wasn’t coming in because I was having a migraine?”

“Sì…”

“I was lying,” the words blurt out of you in a rush but you sound almost gleeful about it, “I was so fucking tired and so cozy in bed and it was raining outside…I just couldn’t do it. Stayed under the covers all day watching Ghost Adventures.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he playfully chides, and he can see your shoulders shake with laughter, “Signorina I am stunned. Horrified, even–”

“Oh it’s not that bad.”

“Horrified…that you didn’t tell me so I could join you. I love those ghost hunting shows.”

Your laugh makes him smile in return, “Next time we’ll play hooky together, I promise.”

He sighs deeply. “Please. I could use it.”

“I know,” you murmur, “no one in this abbey works as hard as you do.”

“Grazie, tesoro. I appreciate your kindness.”

You make a warm noise of affirmation before speaking, “What’s next?”

“Gluttony.”

“Oh Christ,” you cringe, head falling forward, “Maybe…about a month ago? Primo came by my rooms and handed me a Tupperware container of brownies. Told me to eat one per sitting with a sweet old man smile on his face. I’m not an idiot, I heard what he grows in the abbey gardens but my God the stink that came off of these things. I knew I was about to get my shit rocked. So I ate my designated brownie and just puttered around, cleaning up the kitchen. All of a sudden, I’m flat on the floor in front of my fan having an out of body experience. I don’t know how long I was lying there for but by the time I hauled myself up I was so hungry I thought I was losing it. Went through a box of cereal, a sleeve of Ritz crackers, and the next thing I knew I was in the papas’ kitchen making a bag of popcorn. Don’t remember getting there and don’t remember coming back up to my rooms but the next morning I was tucked in bed. So weird.”

He chuckles nervously as if he wasn’t the one to find you wandering the kitchens stoned out of your gourd and put you there.

“Ha yes…weird. That’s…that’s all you remember?”

“Mmhmm. Talk about the devil’s lettuce. Was pissed I didn’t have any cereal the next morning, though.”

“Let’s move onto the next, hmm?” He’s a little louder than necessary but you don’t question his suspicious behavior.

“Yeah sure. Hit me.”

“Eh, greed.”

“Hmm,” you ponder and he hears the back of your head thunk against the wood of the booth. “Damn, this is a hard one.”

“It usually is, funnily enough. You can always skip it, if you like.”

“No, no, no,” you say, leaning forward, “I’m trying to get the full set, let me cook.”

That actually makes him laugh out loud. How he adores you so.

“Greed, greed, greed,” you mutter to yourself, “Ah…greed would include covetousness, yeah?”

“Mmm, is there something or perhaps…someone you have been coveting?”

It’s a leading question and he knows this as he hears your breath quicken. It’s at this point in his fantasies where you confess your adoration for him, where he flees the confines of his side of the booth to fall to his knees before you and worship you as Sathanas intended. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he tastes the bitter tang of his paints which distracts him for a moment when he hears you say–

“Yes. There is someone.”

The silence is deafening between the two of you and his heart thuds against his ribcage, desperate for you reach over and tear it from his chest. He flexes his hands, the leather squeaking as the both of you sit with the words.

“O-oh?” he finally manages to stutter. He can see your eyes are shut and hears you loudly swallow.

“I, um,” you begin, “yeah. There is someone I’ve wanted for…a long time. I…I think he–I mean they–might reciprocate but…”

Tell her, you fool.

“Can we do the next one, actually?” your voice is so painfully soft and his stomach drops. She is doing you a kindness, his brain cruelly provides, by not telling you of who she truly wants. A sibling, perhaps. Or perhaps…one of your fratelli. The thought pains him so he nearly doubles over on himself as if being punched in the gut. Pride, envy, wrath, sloth, gluttony, greed.

Lust.

He’s startled by the sound of his own voice and you are too judging from the way you twitch. From his obscured view you look positively horrified, as if you had forgotten about this one.

“I haven’t been with anyone,” you blurt out, sounding both panicked and deeply embarrassed. He hardly recognizes his own voice as he responds with uncharacteristic calmness.

“Lustful acts…do not always have to involve another person.”

Now why the fuck would he say that? He can see your eyes widen and even in the dim light of the confessional he registers the violent blush on your cheeks.

“Oh I…oh.”

You raise a hand up to rub aggressively at your face, breathing deep.

“In that case, yes,” you finally say and his gut clenches, “I have indulged in the sin of lust.”

“A-about the person you covet?” He’s pushing it but he can’t help himself, can’t help the hope that simmers in his belly and makes his pants tighten.

“Mmm…mhmm,” you respond and you open your mouth to speak but hesitate. When you finally do, there’s a new tone to your voice - something low. Sensual.

“It’s…good. Fuck it’s good. When I think about them I-I go a little insane. I want them so fucking badly and it’s so easy to think about them and what they could do to me. What I would let them do to me.”

His fist flies to his mouth to stifle the whine that threatens to escape from him and his cock throbs underneath his cassock. He can feel your eyes on him, see your lips parted and it makes him lightheaded. Focus. Focus. Go over there and fuck her against this goddamned confessional. Focus.

“Sathanas bless you, tesoro,” he finally ekes out, his voice hoarse, “in celebrating your body a-and your desire you have made Him proud. Well done.”

A beat passes until you clear your throat. He thinks if he doesn’t tend to his dick soon he’s going to pass out.

“That’s all of them then, right? Got the full set?”

“Mmhmm. You can go if you like.”

“Didn’t you say there’s another blessing at the end?”

Satan damn your ability to vex him when he needs relief…and you…the most.

“Eh, yes. In nomine Padre, et Filio, e-et lo Spiritus Malum,” Cazzo what was the rest of it? “Ah…Sathanas bless this most sacred sinner for reveling in her transgressions against God. Nema.”

“Cool, well uh. Goodnight Copia. This has been…enlightening.”

“It certainly has,” he mutters under his breath, fingers itching to adjust his bulge. He’s not sure if you heard him or not because in an instant you’ve opened the booth and skittered down the nave to the door. He doesn’t breathe again until he hears you firmly shut it behind you and within seconds he’s fumbling for the hem of his cassock. He knows the likelihood that you were talking about him is slim but simply entertaining the thought that it could be has him unzipping his pants with vicious determination. When his cock finally, blessedly meets leather he could cry with relief. He knows he’s dribbling pre on himself but he doesn’t care - all that matters is the way you sounded confessing your lustful actions to him and how it drives his fist back and forth. Oh, how sweet you were. Tempting even when you weren’t trying to be. How he would revel in ruining you. The thought makes him double over, his unoccupied hand pressed against the wall of the booth in an attempt to stabilize himself. When he thinks of you eagerly spreading yourself open for him a broken moan escapes his lips, hips rutting upwards into his grip. What sweet little noises you would make - right there, Copia, please, that’s it - your body eager to yield to his touch. 

“Dolcezza,” he grits out, “ragazza perfetta mia. S-so good–ah–for y-your Cardinal.”

His hand is a blur as it rockets along his shaft and he grunts into the silent chapel. He thinks of you looking up at him with that heart-shatteringly kind look on your face, your lips in a soft smile and he cries out, his seed painting his grucifix in desperate spurts. His mind is fuzzy but his hand doesn’t slow, determined to wrench every last drop out of himself until his head falls back and hits the wood of the booth. Groggily, he puts himself away and lowers his cassock before stumbling out of the confessional. His spend drips onto the stone floor but it matters little - surely it’s not the first that floor has seen. All of a sudden he’s exhausted - feeling every second of his five decades - as he blows out candle after candle. When his task is complete he trudges to the door and rests his forehead on the wood for a moment. 

He thinks of your smile once more.

[ghulehunknown]

Papa’s Worship

Terzo x F Reader

Day 4 of KINKTOBER is here! 🎃

**WARNING: EXPLICIT, NSFW**

Also available on AO3!

“Papa’s Worship”

CW/Tags: CMNF, feminine reader, vaginal fingering, oral sex (cunnilingus), female body worship, female orgasm

Summary: Terzo needs to give you pleasure after Black Mass…

Word Count: 1700

.

After Mass, you started to help rearrange the Unholy Books and papers left behind. Those damn ghouls, you thought to yourself. Always such a mess with them.

“You go ahead,” you called to your sisters, and they obliged, either knowing your evil scheme or just happy that someone offered to pick up the slack so they could leave early. You wanted to take as long as you could to rearrange the chapel while you waited for your beloved. Terzo and his entourage left from one of the side doors, slipping away to Nihil’s private office. God, how would you know when he’d be done now?

Around 20 minutes passed and you couldn’t find anything else to pass the time. You finished up your duties and began to walk down the corridors very slowly, taking a longer path to get to your room. You heard running footsteps coming down the hall, quicker and quicker until -

“Amore mio,” Terzo whispered breathlessly into your ear as he wrapped you into an embrace. His chest was heaving - he was actually out of breath! The man who said he’d never be caught dead doing cardio. (“I am already in such great physical shape, no?” he would say whenever the ghouls would try to get him to come along to the gym.)

“Terzo!” you cried, wrapping your arms around him and kissing him. “Were you…running?” you asked, incredulous.

“Si amore, I had to come to you, mio amato,” he said, cupping your chin in his strong hands. “Those motherfuckers,” he growled, “they wanted to keep me there forever. I thought, enough with this shit! I need my bella donna seeing stars.” He gestured with both hands, mimicking an explosion.

“How did you get away?”

“Ehhh,” he said with a shrug. “Told them I had to shit.” You both laughed. So crass, your Papa.

“I see someone doesn’t give a fuck what the Clergy thinks now that you’re in charge,” you said still laughing.

“Fuck them, fuck that old man, and fuck that annoying Copia too, with his fucking - ” he trailed off, vaguely mimicking the Cardinal’s lanky gait and outlining his upper lip with his finger as if drawing the Cardinal’s thin mustache. (“I want that old bastard to take a paternity test, there can be no way I’m related to that little shit!” he’d say afterwards whenever Copia corrected him during meetings.)

He grasped you by the waist. “All that fucking matters,” he said sexily, “is making you wet beyond sin.” He bit your jawline then kissed you there.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and guided you in the opposite direction, down another hall to his Papal suite. He led you in, where candles were already burning and the plush purple bedsheets laid taut.

Papa must have sent a ghoul in to tidy up his room, because your morning makeout session left the bed a mess, and nearly made him late to his meetings. You didn’t go further earlier this morning, as he begged you to tease him so he’d have a raging hard on during Mass. And his robes didn’t quite conceal it either.

He closed the door, and now you were completely alone. “Fucking finally,” he said, sighing heavily and looking very relieved. “We’re alone.”

You blushed as he kissed you deeply, running his fingers through your luscious hair. You caressed his biceps while he began kissing your neck, tickling your earlobe, brushing your collarbone. He unlaced your bodice, exposing your bare chest. He swirled your nipples in his mouth, alternating breasts until you were breathing heavily. He sighed deeply, content to be within your bosom and taking his time.

“Take me, Terzo, please,” you whispered. “I want you.”

“Shhh Sorella, these things take time. I will please you as I see fit. And you shall have me.” He picked you up effortlessly and carried you to his king sized bed, setting you down gently and continuing kissing your breasts. He removed your habit, and threw it to the ground. “Mmmm, you delicious naughty, naughty thing,” he murmured, excited to find you had not worn panties to Mass.

You blushed again. You had hoped to flash him your ass at some point while bending over to grab the Unholy Books, but fucking Imperator was behind you the whole time.

“You wicked succubus, you wanted to leave your juices for the staff to clean off the pews?” He whined. “Ho bisogno di ti. You’re all mine, all mine,” he said between kisses. He ran a hand down your body, sending chills down your spine. He made his way to your inner thigh, and began to tease your entrance. He was practically giddy. “Mmmmm, so fucking wet, sweet Lucifer. I need to taste you.”

You caressed his face, and ran your hands through his raven hair. You looked into his beautifully mismatched eyes and he felt like home.

“Mia splendida donna, amore mio, I want to thank you. You have been so patient with me as I’ve navigated all this…” his voice trailed off as he waved the air. “…shit. It has not been easy being Papa now, but you…you make things so much easier.”

“It’s not an easy job you’re doing,” you said, dismissing any of your own stress. You touched his face with your fingertips, noticing the extra wrinkles in his forehead and the bags now under his eyes.

He took your hands in his. “Sorella, I adore you. Let me worship you.”

You moaned as he caressed your clit with a gloved hand. He inserted his index finger into your entrance and made a “come hither” motion, driving you wild and making you cry out his name - (‘oh Terzo!’). “Yes Sorella, call my name,” he said. He played with your clit again, making gentle yet firm circles. He traced the letters of your name on your flesh with delicate ease. He continued to kiss you softly while he touched you.

“Come,” your Papa commanded. He knew by the sound of your breathing how close you were. He could practically command you to orgasm, one of his many devilish talents. He drilled his middle and ring fingers into your dripping cunt, circling your clit with his thumb. He cupped the back of your head with his other hand and kissed you passionately. Fucking Lucifer fuck, he was skilled. He had obviously been paying attention to Copia’s sermon on fingering - or perhaps Terzo had told the Cardinal just how to do it, to one-up him?

The leather from his gloves only heightened the experience, filling your cunt. “Come for me, please,” he whispered into your ear, practically pleading. “Would you sing for your Papa?” He kissed you again.

Your back arched as you felt your orgasm take over. Moaning into Terzo’s mouth as you came was one of your favorite things; feeling him inside you and right next to you all at once made you blush all over like a schoolgirl - he could see exactly how you reacted to him. You lost control of your entire body as a wave of pleasure engulfed you. He continued kissing you through the wave of pleasure.

“Yes that’s it, moan, Principessa,” he whispered, peppering your face with sweet kisses as you came down from your high. You came to and caught his gaze, love and adoration in his eyes. He snickered, and looked down at your chest, which was practically beet red. “Yes I always know I have done a good job when all the blood rushes to your heart,” he placed his left hand over your heart. “Almost as if your love for me is contained in one place. Mio cuore, mia vita,” he continued, bringing his gloved fingers dripping in your cum into his mouth. “Mmm, you taste so sweet.”

Still breathing heavy, you held your beloved’s face and kissed him over and over, making up for the stolen kisses you’d not exchanged all day. He took his gloves off and held you close. The warmth from his hands was welcoming and comforting. He held you to his chest for what seemed like an eternity, and you could stay there forever.

“I need to piss,” he said, breaking the silence. Both of you laughed.

“Terzo!” you exclaimed, feigning annoyance and playfully hitting him in the chest. He pretended to be wounded. Your Papa was so blunt, and so playful. You coyly brought the sheets to cover your indecency but he only tore them off again and laughed.

Suddenly he hopped up and went into the master bathroom. “Silly me, I forgot something,” he said, returning only a second later. You mumbled, and rested your eyes, almost falling asleep on the pillow. He spread your legs quickly and slid his tongue along your still wet folds. The tip of his tongue wildly flicked from side to side. Still sensitive, you yelped and bucked your hips but your Papa was stronger. He laughed again, almost evilly. “Still so wet for me, my brava ragazza,” he said. “You didn’t think I’d let your cum go to waste, eh?”

Your eyes rolled back as he drank from your cunt, desperate for you. He moaned but you could hardly stand to be touched anymore, the overstimulation driving you wild. “Fucking hell!” he exclaimed excitedly, finally satisfied. He hovered over you, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. His Papal face paint was smudged all over, and you could see his faint laughter lines beside the corners of his mouth. Yes your Papa was getting older, you thought sadly. But he still fucked like a young man.

“Tomorrow, you tie me up to this bedpost and smother me with that beautiful cunt, si?” He grabbed your chin in his hand and kissed your cheek. “Smother me in that pussy, Sorella, don’t let me up for air until I’ve pleasured you fully.”

“Yes, my love,” you said, giving him another smooch. Your scent lingered on him as he got up from the bed.

He cursed Lucifer’s name and spoke Italian, but you think he murmured “deliziosa figa,” as he trailed off to the bathroom finally.

He poked his head from the bathroom door. “And when I get back, I’m going to fuck you into that mattress so hard you’ll forget your name.”

Italian to English Translations

- Amore mio (my love)

- mio amato (my beloved)

- Bella donna (beautiful woman)

- Sorella (sister)

- Ho bisogno di ti (I need you)

- Mia splendida donna (my amazing woman)

- Principessa (Princess)

- Mio cuore, mia vita (my heart, my life)

- deliziosa figa (delicious pussy)

[missygoesmeow]

another instalment of blorbo as other blorbo

[profanepurity]

Wait what was that about Terzo and Copia pretending to be catholic priests again. Its sounds so entertaining I need to hear that entire story (and also what were the rumors about the ex-nun were about, is the nun sister Natalia)

There was an abrupt, urgent knocking at the doors one night, a young, Catholic nun stood before Cardinal Copia, the one who answered, stunned by the glittering tears in her eyes and the moonlight touching her wet cheeks. Bewitching. She mistook the church to be another sister monastery in her desperation and distress for help. A great evil had fallen upon her blessed little community. And much worse, her dear friend, Sister Velena, has been possessed by something evil, and is being held in the levels below their monastery. None of their priests seem to be able to exercise the demon, yet refuse to seek outside aid. Hearing the desperation in her sweet voice, seeing the way Natalia looked at him with so much earnest, coming to him in fear and with nothing but good intentions, how could he refuse her? 

But this was not a holy place, and the Cardinal was no priest.

"... I might be able to help you, Sorella."

When you pull up to a Pizza Hut and try to order a Big Mac.

I am so sorry, this has been sitting in my inbox for a hot minute! I cannot wait to show you guys what goes down with this little scenario, but it's honestly such a big plot point that it needs to be in multiple parts. So, here's the first page for now 🖤

I hope you guys are liking the mix between writing and drawing. I feel like that's the only way I am able to really show emotion and gravity at max level with this. Let me know!

And to answer your question, yes, the ex-Catholic nun is Sister Natalia! This little story is going to show how she converted to the church, as well as introduce how some other characters, canon and oc, came into this au.

I'll hopefully have this updated weekly (I say that lightly), I don't want this to be TOO many parts. We're going to aim for like three parts lol, but this is just the intro- think of this as part 0.

Feat. Fettuccini on Copia's shoulder begging her daddy to say yes to the pretty lady at the door so she can have a mom.

[writingjourney]

Ibi I have a really important (and not at all silly question) who would each Papas favourite BG3 character be?

this wins best question award easily, the crossover we need!!!

The Papas' Favorite BG3 Characters:

Primo: Well, it's easy to say (fanon) Primo relates most to Halsin and I think he does, a gentle man who loves nature, not adhering to the rules of society when it comes to love and existing in general, but I actually think if we forget about the nature thing for a while who he would feel drawn to is Lae'zel. He comes from a time where a more authoritarian approach was normal and people started to question their God/faith more and more and whether He truly offers the salvation they all crave (and perhaps turned to Satanism and his own Church). That's pretty much Lae'zel's path, a very inspirational story in terms of abuse, faith, rebellion and finding your own purpose.

Secondo: He relates most to Wyll, definitely, heavy expectations from his father to fulfil a certain role he did not choose, dealing with the emotional neglect and ultimately being cast aside after a perceived mistake but still working hard no matter what. However, I think his favourite would be Minthara. He is a bad bitch, he loves women, he enjoys a strong, morally grey female character and he would appreciate her dry cynical sense of humour. She thought her purpose was serving her God but realised that she can easily be cast aside, just like he was by the clergy. And yes, she comes across as cool and uncaring but is actually very warm and vulnerable when you know her, reminds me of someone.

Terzo: I think people would assume Astarion for the flamboyance and dramatics but I actually think he would not gravitate towards these superficial traits and instead relate a lot to characters like Shadowheart (or Orin) who were forced into roles they did have a say in and tried to appeal to those who put them there. They're following these dogmatic rules until they realise they will never get what they need, that the promises are hollow. And like Shadowheart, who realises that she's been lied to her whole life, that she can in fact become better, he also tried to bring about positive change (and was punished for it like Shadowheart is by Shar).

Copia: I want to say that he relates most to Gale, a bit awkward at times, niche interests (or not so niche) that he loves to learn about and the unexpected Casanova of the group with more confidence than people give him credit for (and skill). I also think he would enjoy using magic, if he had the chance (Fireball accidents included). However, I also think he would be very drawn to the strong female characters, especially Karlach. A badass woman who is kind despite the horrors and did not get corrupted by the evil that happened to her throughout her life (which he is fighting for but in the end he might win or lose the battle, depending on other people's choices).

[angellayercake]

Worship

NSFW

Cardinal Copia x Reader

AO3

‘Amore?’ You drop your gaze from where it was fixed on the headboard to look at him attempting to squash down your discomfort. His hands were resting on your hips, thumbs gently caressing your hip bones, something that would usually be stoking the desire inside you but for now it just makes you more tense. You are holding yourself above him on your hands and knees not wanting to rest too much of your weight on top of him in your current position. You meet his intense mismatched eyes and almost lose yourself to the burning lust you see there but your insecurities rear their ugly head once again. 

What he is asking you is not something that should be a problem. Not as a Sister of Sin. But the voices don’t relent. You can’t let him look at you from there. The worst angle of all your most unattractive features. Of course he had pleasured you in this way before but you had always been in a position that had allowed you to pose in such a way you could distract or conceal the parts of you that triggered the voices but what he was asking, you didn’t know if you could do. 

‘Please Amore! Let me worship you.’ He writhes as he asks once again his grip on your hips gets stronger and you feel his hard wet cock grazing your stomach. He lets out a gasp at the contact and you do not doubt his desire for you. To buy yourself some time you press a kiss to his lips. His mouth opens to you instantly. His tongue slides against yours giving you a taste of the pleasure he could give if you only give him what he wants. 

You want to, a large part of you really really wants to. The way he touches you usually pushes all the thoughts away. The pleasure you share makes you forget anything other than his hands, his mouth, his cock and in the moments after, his affection. The fire with which he looks at you in your carnal moments is calmed to warm glowing embers which make you feel even better than any physical touch.

Which is why you want to do this for him. It is ungenerous of you to attribute the evil things the voices say to him. That he could ever even think of you in such terms is itself unthinkable. He squeezes your hips encouraging you to move higher up the bed closer to the position he wants you. Your breasts hang heavy, level with his face. He licks your nipple just a flick of his tongue but your reaction belies the simplicity of the gesture. He purses his lips sucking gently at first before increasing the pressure. Your mind starts to quiet as you give in to the sensations and then he grazes his teeth across the underside making you shiver. His teeth catch on your nipple pushing the air out of you in a gasp before he moves to the other leaving a trail of red worried skin and black smudges to map his path. 

Your breathing gets heavier as he brings you back into the moment. His touch beginning to drive away your negative thoughts. One of his hands leaves your hip as he continues to mouth at you and you feel him palming his erection between your legs. The fact he is so desperate to touch himself just from pleasuring you sends a pulse of arousal through your body that you feel in the palms of your hands and the soles of your feet. 

‘Perfetta amore mio,’ he groans into your chest as he takes his cock in hand fully. ‘Per favore, I need to worship you.’ You can’t resist him any longer, not when his desperation permeates through the space between you almost successfully smothering the voices. You crawl up his body slowly until your knees are either side of his head. You keep your eyes squeezed shut as you get into position trying not to imagine a look of disgust in his eyes. Before you can lower yourself to meet him you feel his hands run over your stomach up to your breasts cupping them gently before teasing your nipples back to hardness. 

‘Look at me Amore.’ He isn’t asking you anymore. You open your eyes and look down at him trying not to take notice of how your body looks between you. The look in his eyes eliminates what's left of your fears. You notice his pupils blown wide as they roam over your body with no trace of disgust to be found. ‘You are a goddess, let me taste you.’ 

You sink down finally to his open mouth, neck craning towards you in anticipation and as you make contact you are almost overwhelmed. His tongue glides to your entrance first moaning loudly at his first taste of your slick, the vibrations setting off sparks inside of you. You had had many lovers in the past but none had ever relished this act the way he did. His demands to worship you were not empty threats. No part of you was left out by his attentions as he sucked, licked and kissed you thoroughly.  

One of your hands is clinging to the headboard in an attempt to keep yourself upright and the other is buried in his hair torn between pulling him closer or pushing him away. You lift off to give yourself some respite from his intensity but that doesn’t give him any pause. He slides his mouth to your inner thighs, biting and sucking marks into your skin, making you shudder as much as the finger he slides inside you. 

‘Copia,’ you groan as you sink back down and his slick lips form a seal over your clit and he sucks making your eyes roll back into your head. He is working you in earnest now. No more teasing just the steady suction, the caress of his tongue and his fingers incessantly sliding in and out. You grind your hips in time with him building a steady rhythm pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm. It was coiling tighter and tighter in the pit of your stomach and you had to constantly fight the urge to clamp your thighs around his head and ride him. Instead you tighten your grip on his hair making him moan against you and curl his fingers in such a way to make you choke, barely able to breathe due to the tension inside. 

He must sense you are close because he redoubles his efforts moving faster, more frantic, desperate to push you over the edge and as he pushes a second finger your muscles start to twitch and you know any second you are going to explode.

‘Copia,’ you cry out as everything snaps and you lose the fight not to tense your thighs and keep him locked in place as you ride out the most intense orgasm you can remember on his face. As you come down he is stroking himself frantically, mouth still moving over you, delving tongue searching for every last taste of your orgasm. You know when he reaches his climax by the way he tenses and moans into you. His warm breath as much a caress as his lips on your oversensitive skin. 

You move down him as he catches his breath avoiding his seeking lips to do a little worship of your own. He has come dotted over his stomach and a drop on his still half hard cock that makes your mouth water. You suck gently on the still twitching head swallowing down the remaining drops before following the trails of come on his stomach with your tongue never taking your eyes off his. His burning gaze follows you as you crawl back up to him and share the taste. Him on you and you on him. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is but the mingling tastes make you forget the earth shattering orgasm he had just given you as clench at thought of him fucking you now. He clutches you tight to his body, hips already grinding into yours. In one deft move he swaps your positions you are on your back beneath him. His ruined eye paint makes him look almost deranged, his heaving chest only adding to his wild countenance as he looms over you. 

‘Amore my desire for you will never be satiated.’ And he spends the rest of the night proving just that.

[lilspacewolfie]

You asked for headcanons and headcanons you shall receive (tho they are a bit chaotic)

So, there's this line in "After": He [Copia] felt like he was floating in dark waters with some great beast beneath him, making sure he didn’t sink too deep.

THIS LINE!!!

1) I love me a shapeshifter character and all the little different possibilities it entails

- a large beast with too many paws able to wrap itself around Copia

- a little rat keeping homeless Copia company

- a large gargoyle watching him from the rooftops and providing shelter from rain

- Lucifer accidentaly inspiring Cerberus or Jǫrmungandr or Quetzalcoatl or Hydra because someone saw him practicing shapeshifting

- maybe he turns into a harmless Cerberus every once in a while to play with various kids around the clergy and he tends to appear on days when there's broccoli or spinach for dinner so children can sneak him their meals

(In general I have a headcanon that Terzo was adored by the children arou d the Clergy and they, with the help of some adults and Primo and Secondo, made him the Cirice video, and then Terzo refused to have a professional one made)

- some flying form (flying snake à la chinese dragon? bird with multiple dark wings?) big enough to allow him to take Copia on a flight

- a rat again whenever he doesn't want to deal with Sister Imperator - he can hide under Copia's fancy hat (that I don't remember the name of) prompting clergy to make Ratatouille jokes

- if anyone ever threatens Copia the last thing they see is this blob of void so dark it seems to absorb light with too many limbs and teeth and eyea and wing and oh good god what even is that?! and Copia is well-aware of the blob behind him and knows better than to look at it, but to him it just radiates comfort

- in general some terrifying monster thingy (maybe for scaring evil sinners in hell) that would cause people to run away screaming and that actually scares Copia (he wasn't supposed to see it at all) and Terzo then feels super bad about it and tries to modify it to never frighten Copia again

Dammit I hit ask limit again...

Ahh anon you’re sort of of the ball with your thinking! I know my Lucifer can and does shapeshift, he’s been many people and things throughout his time but he does get tired from doing it.

Love the idea of Lucifer just spending a few years as various things. He’s tested humanity over the ages, observing and overseeing how humans have grown—all the ups and downs in their nature, the good bad and ugly of what it means to be human. He’s learned a lot from humanity, but that has its pros and cons!

He’s a bit more low-key and less obvious with his guidance of humans who need help as he wants to be as hands-off as possible. But you’re right about a few things that I won’t spoil! You’ll have to read 🫣😊

Once things are less clouded I’ll defo be able to flex my imagery muscles a bit more.

I also agree and headcanon that Terzo/Lucifer is great with kids! He understands their souls are young and feels he finds them to be more understanding than most adults. They’re very innocent and honest in their ways of thinking. I actually have a scene later in my fic (chapter 8) in which he interacts with the Siblings and kids!

As for the void blob… well… Heaven and Hell exist in my fic. And Lucifer does have a ‘true form’ so to speak 👀

I LOVED these! Thank you so much for sending them 🖤