#nameless ghouls x little reader

[ace-of-gay]

I currently dont have a masterlist set up for this collection but i hope you enjoy this none the less, this will eventually be posted on ao3 but i dont have an account currently

Not betad or edited

Warnings: age regression, self neglect (not eating, not sleeping, etc.) slight panicked reader but not nearly enough to be a full warning, reader is a half ghoul half human cause this is my interpretation of a fantasy universe <3, cuddles!!!

age regression is a coping that can both voluntary and/or involuntary it is entirely safe and reccomended by therapists if they believe it would be effective for said person but as mentioned for some people it is entirely unpredictable, if this makes you uncomfortable please carry on thank you <3

This was originally written for my best friend so keep in mind this is our dream and thoughts and may not fit well into the ghost universe

Word count: 2,025 words

Nameless ghouls and papa copia taking care of half ghoul reader

Having spent a restless night wasnt uncommon for your or any of the ghouls, especially when seasons and elements were changing, you spent a good few weeks of the tour in your element but the farther and farther you traveled to bring enlightenment to others around the world the more the weather seemed to shift, this most recent nights travel not only took you to a new scene and new spirit of buzzing thrill but a stiffened weight of being completely out of your element, while yes it effects all ghouls it affected you far different.

Being part ghoul meant you weren't as aware of your instincts so feeling them shift always left you in a silent suffocating shock.

With so much bustle amongst the ghouls, papa having a chipper edge to his seemingly endless worries it kept the team heightened and moving, preparing and running through the setlist, this will be the biggest show yet in a city youre entirely new to.

You hid the encroaching feeling well, never once had any of the ghouls questions any difference to your demeanor; having one responsibility after another kept you busy all day nevery staying in one area for long, earbuds in and mask upon your dome, it was same as others methods of preparing just more secluded and in your zone, if there were any changes in anything at all papa, the ghouls and ghoulettes knew that they could calmly inturupt you in your flow.

Listening to every part of the setlist through the literal audio versions of it, everything on the outside seemed normal to everyone but the electric vibrations in your joints and dull ache in your head told you plenty, to the others you were staying silent to save your voice for later so to speak but to you the weight of speaking was way heavier than your desire to ask for help or for rest.

With the show quickly approaching and you having forgotten to eat you downed not one but two energy drinks, spiking youre adrenaline temporarily in hopes itd get you through the show.

All you had to do was get through the night off of artificial energy and true passion for others joy. Just like the full ghouls you spent your time during the show in your human form but unlike them you had a harder time forcing it to stay when you were exhausted.

Papa copia unbeknownst to you had his eye on you, hes the only one who saw you this morning, the deep bags under your eyes and your ghoulish grey having a pale green seemingly sickly color easily masked by your helmet, if all went well youd rest for extra tonight but he didn't see that being the only end to the night.

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》

You were a fan favorite, when you weren't singing backup vocals you were running around stage with your hagstorm base shredding in duos with swiss, bursts of fire being shot upwards, the only time you stay away from the edge of the stage, the light from the fire glinting against the slightly matte chrome picguard, just enough to catch you right in the eye blurring your vision with a blinding flash.

to the congregation watching below your jolts you send into moving your bass guitar looked like flare but for you it was sheer panic, the blinding flash was just enough to put you on the edge of tipping into a deeply unwanted headspace at the moment.

prancing over to where mountain is perched at his drums you take yourself out of the limelight and hide yourself in the downcast shadows from his drums, with the last three chords being extended for showmanship you give a desperate glance to papa with hope that he'll see your glance, and such he does.

You station yourself once more at your mic, you stum the starting chords and belt out backup vocals for the final song, your throat aches as your human form is slipping, your eyes having small flickers of change and a small stumble thankfully met with a stomp on the down beat.

papa makes his way your direction ending the set list with 'Darkness at the heart of my love', when it gets to the part without vocals he does hand flourishes while you play your bass passing by with his mic down "tieni duro piccolo", walking his way around the stage to stand center and finish up the song.

In a blurr of time everything felt like it was on sparks of muscle memory and you were at the front with all other ghouls taking a well deserved bow with a standing ovation for each and every single one of you.

Papa copia was the first to lead off stage letting the ghouls throw picks and a few drumsticks from mountain and what not, you didn't stay long to see everything but you did notice people throwing things onstage as gifts; off stage setting down your bass in a stand you stumble into papas open arms.

Your forehead lay gently atop his chest still in your helmet your horns sit near his collar bone shaking yohr head, "i cant papa, i cant" not entirely sure yourself what you meant he hummed in understanding and hushed you, gently rubbing your back and swaying side to side, "stai bene piccolo ghoul, you can rest now. Ive got you, matter of factly weve got you"

Finally relaxing enough to let your ghoul form fall free, your tail limp all of you is exhausted and you feel so small but people always said it was weird and not good, they never listened to you when you said it was involuntary or a coping mechanism it was just permanently bad.

"Oh piccolo, shh your thoughts are so very loud my dear, it is okay to be small, the ministry welcomes all with coping, we will care of you"

He holds you closer and tighter humming a tune, and just like that your walls had fallen, there was no more fighting it, big doe ghoulish eyes staring up at him, complete silence from you.

At this point the others had made their way backstage, dew came walking over to take over while papa helped collect all the instruments. "Dew, could you please take them to the bus? We will get everything "

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》in the bus now and changed in comfortable clothes dew led you to the ghoul pile nest, when you refused to sit down he stepped aside watching as you grab your comfort item from your personal bunk and made your way back to the nest laying in the center, followed by him curling himself around you.

The ghouls only ever took their helmets off when in a homely environment so dew having his helmet off was his symbol of saying you are safe.

Once everyone had finished packing up and putting stuff away they had all filed in slowly

Cumulus being the first to stop by you and dew at the nest, holding out a plush ghoul for you that she had picked up from the items thrown on stage, papa copia was next to stop by sitting with you and dew, you hadnt noticed until now that he was asleep holding onto you until mountain joined pulling him off of you so you could lean into papa as he held one of your comfort snacks and a juice, both already having been opened by him, he held you as you snacked.

Once you had finished he got up going to the front to drive the bus.

You were once more pulled into the cuddle pile by dewdrop his eyes open long enough to make sure all of your comfort items were tucked against your chest, between you both, "sleep little one, a tiny ghoul needs plenty of rest" soon joined by the rest you had finally fallen asleep, the ghouls were your element aswell. When finally at the hotel for the evening you were carefully awoken by papa, all the ghouls except dew had gotten up, but even he was awake, but he stayed to keep you warm, "it is time to go in, we are buddy system tonight, four ghouls in a room, each room has two king sized beds so its plentyful room"

You finally let go of dew and stretch, getting up to get ready you realize your overnight bag has already been packed and one of the taller ghouls hoodies layed out next to it, you could hear the ruckus at the front of the bus of all the other ghouls ready to bunk up in the hotel.

You slip on the hoodie which you now know belongs to swiss, his smell encapsulating your mind.

Papa comes up behind you placing a hand on your back "piccolo the ghouls have decided you can pick who youre bunking with, they want to be sure youre okay when tiny, loro ti amano"

You make your way to the front of the bus where you find the ghouls with their charm up. looking to papa followed by you tapping swiss, rain and mountain on the heads, the three stand up, mountain takes your bag and rain scurrys away and back with your mask in hand "are you able to use charm right now or is the mask a better option?" He questions

Taking a moment to test how well the charm feels, you point at the mask. Nodding he gently places it atop your head, he places his hand under your chin causing you to look up so he can buckle it up and tan pats you atop your head, swiss gently pulls the back of the hoodie at the bottom away from your back "curl your tail tiny" tucking it under the hoodie

Once in the room mountain sets down the bags he was carrying and helped take the mask off of your noggin, ruffling your hair causing you to chirp in response, rain and swiss hop on the bed closest to the door leaving the one near the window "copia is ordering food for everyone, hes getting youre favorite for you" mountain chimes, grabbing to tv channel guide and flipping through it.

"Movie?" You mumble causing all three of them to look over, normally youre completely silent when youre small, "you wanna watch a movie?" He questions flicking on the tv and sitting on the bed, he turns on Wall-E for you.

Sometime a few minutes later he feels you shuffle closer on the bed cuddling into his side with your comfort item in hand.

After dinner was delivered and eaten and the movie was over you had tucked yourself on your side of the bed you shared with mountain, rains lamp still on so he could read while swiss was practically cuddled ontop of him, every time you would shift or turn in bed they could hear it, causing them to watch you carefully when youd move or grumble is dissatisfaction.

there was just no way to get comfortable, this wasnt home or the bus, you werent wrapped in your family, you huff out rolling over to look at mountain, to your suprise he was looking right at you quizically.

You quickly curl into his side before he got the chance to say anything, "o parum ghoul, mi amor, papa is right, your thoughts really are so very loud" swiss sighs, pulling himself out of his bed followed by rain who lay on your open side and swiss next to mountain, it may not be a perfect ghoul pile but its better than before, rolling over when rain pulls out his book to read aloud, your head on his chest.

listen to the thrum and Rumble deep in his chest, your eyes fall closed but not before you wrap your tail around swiss' wrist where it resides clutched around mountain, your mind will feel fresh and lively tomorrow filed with the itmost of energy, especially after an evening full of cuddles and littlespace, rain places a gentle kiss atop your head and just like that you are asleep.

[ethereal-maniac]

Sleepy, Cold And Clingy

Phantom Ghoul x Fem!Reader

❗️TW❗️: just fluff today :)

Summary: Phantom misses you in the cold early morning when you leave his arms.

You shiver as you pad softly down the hall in the early hours of the morning and into the dens kitchen to make yourself some tea.

It had been snowing out, the wind was howling and the rain pattering on the abbeys roof only increased the noise.

You turn on the kettle and wait for it to boil, wrapped in your favorite snuggly blanket.

Your blanket suddenly gets lifted from your shoulders and you gasp as the cold air hits you.

"Sorry baby, didn’t mean to sneak up on you," Phantom murmurs before moving to stand behind you and wraps the blanket around both your shivering forms.

He loops his arms around your waist, gently pulling your back impossibly closer to his chest.

"It's ok, did I wake you?" You hum leaning into his warmth.

"Mhm, I got cold and lonely without you in my arms" he mumbles with a pout as he lets his head rest in the crook between your neck and shoulder.

"I’m sorry, I was hoping you'd keep sleeping,” you apologise, reaching your hand back to play with the hair on his nape.

"Mmmm 's okay" he slurs, placing soft kisses on your neck/shoulder while rocking you both gently side to side.

You stay like that until the kettle boils and he whines at the loss of touch as you leave his arms.

He patiently waits perched on a chair with droopy eyes and your blanket in his lap as he watches you finish making your tea.

You take his hand with a smile and lead him back to his room, letting him affectionately tackle you onto the bed once you’ve set your mug down on the bedside table.

He places a sloppy kiss on your jaw and nuzzles back into your neck, purring softly as he falls back asleep.

Do not copy, translate, transfer (plagiarise) or take ‘inspiration’ from any of my fics.

[multi-fandom-of-madness]

Phantom X Omega this. Phantom X Ifrit that.

What about Phantom x Alpha? What about Alpha being so awestruck by how sparkly Phantom is that he can’t help but bully Phantom a little (not enough to hurt, just enough to confuse the lil guy)? What about Phantom being confused as fuck because “Me?? Are you talking to me??” while Alpha miserably tries to flirt (calls him short and makes fun of his horns)? WHAT ABOUT ALPHA FINALLY GETTING THE POINT ACROSS AND THEN PHANTOM BEING ABLE TO CURL UP ON THE BIG OL FIRE GHOUL LIKE A KITTEN AND THEM BEING ADORABLE AS FUCK?? WHAT ABOUT THAT HUH??? DID YOU EVER THINK ABOUT THAT???

[xxcallmemaryxx]

I knoooow I’ve written Rain to be precious and soft and sweet and who feels so intensely but I don’t know there’s a small part of me that also loves the idea of manipulative Rain.

Slight warning: manipulative and dominant Rain.

(Cut for length)

GN reader

Manipulative Rain who puts on this front around everyone during his normal day to day and when he’s performing on stage, he’s given everyone the idea he’s just shy and sensitive and prefers to keep to himself and is just happy to be there.

He meets you and the facade slips into place. And he does such a good job at keeping it up, tricks you into thinking he’s just so nice and sweet and lovely and he watches how quickly you associate him with innocence. How quickly everyone has. Because it’s Rainy right? Sweet little Rainy who couldn’t hurt a fly even if he wanted too?

He gets you so used to the idea that he is the softest ghoul to ever come from hell, you almost don’t believe he was even there in the first place.

Feelings grow, for both of you, and eventually he’s earned the privilege of calling you his. Rains little human. Sweet Rain who’s found himself a sweet human. And it’s great. He’s amazing and loving and attentive and so so gentle.

But, and only because he allows it… the facade starts to slip a little when he’s got you alone. You start noticing he gets a little… possessive? When you bring up the other ghouls, or tell him about something funny that happened between you and someone else from the clergy that day. You chalk it up to him worrying you’d rather the company of the other ghouls and try to reassure him the only ghoul you have feelings for is him. You brush it off. Because it’s Rain.

Yet little by little it starts to slip more and more. His possessiveness over you grows, he scents you beyond recognition and if the two of you are being intimate he marks your neck with his lips until there’s no inch of skin left unmarked. He’s rough and doesn’t care. He slowly but surely trains your brain into becoming so dependent on him, because he needs you and he would be so lost without you and you… you can’t do this without him remember? You need him just as much as he needs you, you’d be a mess without him and he would be a mess without you and how could you do that to him? How could you ever think of a life without him now? You can’t.

You can’t sleep without Rain, you can’t decide what to wear without Rains input, you eat all of your meals together every single day (per Rains request) and don’t even think about leaving the ministry grounds without him to accompany you because what if something bad happened and he wasn’t there to protect you? There are horrible people outside of the ministry walls who would hurt you if given the chance so he needs to be there with you to prevent that from happening.

Rain is dominant. He is intense. He takes over your mind and embeds himself deep into your very soul. And he watches as you slowly realise he isn’t the sweet and soft and innocent ghoul you thought he was. And he smiles as he watches you realise how much you love him like this anyways.

[i-meani-guess]

I fully believe Mountain would listen to Hozier. I also think that he hums/sings along to Like Real People Do while him and Rain cuddle together in the greenhouse during a storm.

[crowberry62]

Ghouls play with a little albino reader, then they hide together from terzo x cardinal copia (separately) sorry if it's not clear

The ghouls playing with an albino little reader

Tw: people being mean, reference to injury, reference to ghoul attacks, yelling

Terzo

“Sweetheart! Where are you” Terzo yelled for you knowing you had regressed not too long ago. He was worried that maybe a ghoul had gone haywire and hurt you or someone was being cruel to you. What if you got hurt in some other way-

“Papa?” He heard omega say with a questioning voice. “Are you ok?”

“No I’m not able to find my little dove!” Terzo unintentionally yelled at one of his closest ghoul 

The ghouls looked at him with a angry look yet he soon started laughing.

“Hahaha they’re just playing papa! You’ve been so busy and they where bored so we decided to play hide’n’seek”

“Are kidding me! Where are they” Terzo sighed trying to calm himself down.

“I don’t know. Me, Alpha and cowbell are looking for them right now. You can join if you want.” The ghoul said, not seeming to care about the papas worry.

“Yes let’s go find them now!”

Copia

Copia had been busy with work since he was slated to become the next papa. Sister imperator had been hounding Copia to finish his work on time and this gave Copia little time to pay attention to you, his lovely named “tiny bunny”.

“Aether have you seen my tiny bunny!” Copia yelled at the passing ghoul. He feared you would run into papa nihil or sister imperator who he didn’t let know about your regression.

“Oh we’re playing hide’n’seek, wanna join? You could use a break.” Aether stated nonchalantly.

“Fine as longs as we do it quickly” Copia sighed.

“Yes boss!” Aether stated before running off to find you.

-brother corvid

Tell me if you want a part 2

[ghoulphile]

janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | teaser

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 465 for the teaser, overall wordcount tbd ➥ overall warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap (i hc reader to be late 20s but i tried to leave it vague enough), cowgirl position, biting, hair pulling, choking, squirting, teasing, pining, lipstick kink, breast/nipple play, masturbation (m), porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, coop's pov to start - rest of the fic will be in reader's, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | "We really s-shouldn't - oh fuck - be doing this." ➥ notes | here's a teaser for the fic i took a poll on, some people wanted more info 😊 coop is a big dick dilf fite me. feedback is always appreciated ❤️ lmk if you want to be tagged feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist

Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.

Ugliest thing in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say.

It's not like being a Marine with a gun in hand, being told where to point and shoot, or an actor reading off a script. There's no guidebook, no crash course. These people aren't nameless threats coasts away or co-workers following a cue.

In fact, his 'enemies' aren't enemies at all.

They have names: Barb, so smart it hurts, and sweet little Janey, his very own North star. Sometimes looking at them rips open a hole in his chest that'll never close, edges jagged and sore. The phantoms of family, of happier times, found in the glint of a smile or a peal of laughter.

See, war's something he understands. Something he's good at.

But these domestic battlefields where he's gotta look his ex-wife in the face, and struggle to meet his daughter's eye? Barter this weekend and that holiday? To pay for the privilege of his child's presence (he does, he will, she's worth every goddamn cent he's ever made)?

To look down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman he loves staring back; he doesn't, can't, comprehend that. Because once upon a time, he was happy (with her) and life was sweeter than pie.

Now he's nothing but a washed up actor who struggles to land a call back let alone make his monthly alimonies. His marriage has failed, his reputation is in shambles, and his bank account is dryer than the Mojave.

Barb gets the house. He gets the dog.

And caught in the middle of it all is his little girl; the only thing he’s got left worth while. He wants to protect her, provide for her the way she deserves — only he seems to fall short every goddamn time.

The mistakes and missteps keep stacking up against him; such is his new life in all its raw, unglamorous glory.

Look how far the mighty fall.

Lucky for him — the first bright thing that's come his way in a long, long while — a sweet, young woman moves into the apartment next door. Of course, it isn't long before Janey takes a shine, always so friendly.

Thankfully, you're just as good with her.

It only makes sense you'd watch her when a gig runs late. Rustle up some grub and put her to bed whenever he slinks in through the door, stripped to the bone.

And if he takes himself in hand late at night, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress? Imagines the wide stretch of your lush mouth as you peer up at him from between his thighs when he cums hard?

Well, what you don't know won't hurt you.

After all, he promises to keep his hands to himself.

Full fic dropping 12 PM EST on 4/29/24

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

Gimme your most stupid ghoul headcanons possible, like Sodo is scared of idk dust particles or something funny.

“silly ghoul headcanons”

Synopsis: It’s in the title you silly goose. Just the ghouls with their silly little shenanigans

Pairing: Nameless ghouls (platonic or romantic) x GN!reader (they/them)

Theme: fluff ✿ , crack ✦

A/N: Heres my first fanfic to my Ghost blog! I gotta thank my bestie for making this request despite the silliness in it. I hope you guys enjoy it because I certainly had fun writing it. I might make a separate version for the ghoulettes cause I love my girlies <33

I also decided to add Aether in this one cuz I love him, remember to respect both him and Phantom as ppl because we don’t support that negativity and hate 🫡

TW: Swiss and Sodo joke about sex but it’s because they’re Swiss and Sodo

▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆

Sodo, oh dear Sodo. He can be such a silly ghoul sometimes

He likes to act like he’s all tough and that he’s hot shit, but some of his habits you can’t help but laugh at

For starters, Sodo is the type of ghoul to be scared of really dumb stuff. Take hamsters for example

Sodo has this really inexplainable fear of hamsters. One day you picked up a cute little hamster from the pet store, and he hissed and erupted in flames the moment you brought it near him

“Sodo its just a hamster—“

“GET THAT THING’S FILTHY PAWS AWAY FROM ME.”

Aether once pranked him by putting a bunch of hamsters in his closet and he let out the most unmanly scream ever, it was funny

Oh and we all know Sodo has a habit of slapping people’s asses

It’s basically his trademark at this point

But there was this one particular time where he tried to slap your ass, but he somehow missed and accidentally slapped Copia’s ass instead

Needless to say, he spent a good while trying to explain to the unamused Papa that he didn’t mean to slap him, but the other pair of cheeks that was in front of him in that moment

He once played Five Nights At Freddy’s and he had nightmares about Freddy for a whole week

No joke, he once thought that Swiss was Freddy because he was so disoriented from a previous nightmare and he socked the poor guy in the nose

You forced him to apologize to Swiss after that

I imagine he’s also the type of ghoul to write stupid little messages and graffiti with a sharpie on his fellow ghouls faces

He once made you help him literally knock out Aether just so he could write “number one cocksucker” in big bold letters on his forehead

Needless to say, you two got chased around by the angry ghoul who was holding a fly swatter for a whole ten minutes

Also we all know damn well this man has a dirty mind

Like have you seen him on stage? Of course he does

He has a habit of slipping in sexual jokes and in innuendos every now and then, because he snickers when seeing people’s reactions

Though there was this one time where he made a comment about your ass and he got slapped across the face

Idk Sodo has a weird obsession with your ass

He has toned down on the jokes, but that doesn’t stop him from slipping up every now and then. And it’s quite obvious he won’t stop with those jokes anytime soon

Rain is such a sweetie and we all know that

But sometimes he can be a little bit of a menace, even to you and his fellow bandmates

To start things off, we all know Rain is a clumsy little guy

Like he’s a walking talking disaster with trails of chaos in his wake. He can hold a glass for someone and drop it like not even ten seconds later

Well there was this one time where you were giving him strumming techniques for the next upcoming ritual

Sodo tapped him on the shoulder from behind to ask him for something. When Rain turned around he accidentally slapped Sodo in the face with the neck of his bass guitar

Sodo then stumbled back in pain and literally destroyed Mountain’s drum set. You were just standing there processing what just happened, and Copia just looked… disappointed.

Rain also collects a lot of plushies

He has a literal pile of squishmallows in the corner of his room. Sometimes he likes to bury himself in that little nook of his room.

He made a little pillow fort in that area for him to snuggle in. Sometimes he’ll invite you to come and watch movies with him in there

However he once impulsively bought so many plushies so they were all flooding his room. You opened the door to his room and they all came flooding out, with a very euphoric Rain on top of them

“…. Rain what are you doing?”

“Feeling great. Thank you, Y/N.”

You helped him organize all of those little plushies in his room afterwards, even giving some of them to Phantom (who was new at the time) as a little “welcome home” gift

As a water ghoul, Rain naturally enjoys water

However he has this really cute habit of splashing around in pools/tubs like he’s a bird in a birdbath, but he gets embarrassed about this fact because the ghouls tease him for it

You once caught him playing around in the a storm in such a manner, it was so cute seeing him so happy and enjoying himself

The minute he spotted you, he immediately got all embarrassed and shy, but you reassured him it was all good and that it was fine to be excited about water

Needless to say, he’s a lot more comfortable showing off that side to you now

Oh Mountain. Sweet sweet darling Mountain

Like Rain, Mountain is a sweetie. However he tends to have his silly moments.

I’d like to imagine that Mountain often bumps his head on doorframes or walks

The fucker is really tall, I mean it’s hard to not hit something along the way.

So he has a habit of sticking his hand over his forehead to avoid bumping into anything, the poor guy

I’d also like to imagine that Mountain had that light skin stare

Like he doesn’t even mean to look creepy. He just… has a habit of zoning out, so therefore he looks like he’s staring into your soul

Though this does make him really good at staring contests. One time Swiss challenged him, and they lasted for ten minutes

Swiss needed eye drops after that

Also he deadass looks like a sleep paralysis demon when he stands

One night you couldn’t sleep so you went to the kitchen to get something to eat. Mountain happened to hear the noise your footsteps were making, so he went to check up on you

He was just standing in the doorframe… staring at you, making sure you were okay while you grabbed something from the fridge

Needless to say, when you turned around, you dropped Swiss’s leftover cheesecake you were gonna eat upon seeing the tall earth ghoul in the doorframe

Also your scream was loud as FUCK

“MOUNTAIN WHAT IN HELL— YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK! Why didn’t you say anything!?”

“… I don’t know. At least you’re okay.”

He apologized to you afterwards and promised to not accidentally spook you. Because for a moment you swore you saw the hat man

Mountain also rarely gets mad, the dude is as passive as a sheep

But the moment he gets angry… hide your children

The dude is scary as hell. Like, he’s even got Papa on his knees begging for mercy

There was one particular day during practices where Sodo and Aether were arguing a little too much. It’s normal for them to banter, but this particular day was getting out of hand

Everyone was already getting upset with them, even with Papa telling the two ghouls you knock it off, but of course they wouldn’t

Well, they didn’t until a drum from Mountain’s drum set came hurling towards both ghouls. Making the fire ghoul and quintessence ghoul yelp and duck instinctively

No one had noticed the fuming earth ghoul sitting in the corner up until that point. Everyone was speechless. Your jaw was on the floor even

Needless to say, Mountain apologized yet again, but now everyone knew not to fuck with Mountain after that

Swiss is an… interesting specimen.

For starters he was accidentally summoned,

He was summoned at the same time as Aether. And they bonked heads upon getting summoned

It was rather funny seeing Papa being so confused as to why the ritual spell summoned two ghouls, and seeing said two ghouls yell at each other for bonking heads

But it all worked out because after Swiss showed off that he can literally do fucking anything, Papa just let him stay

And Swiss was the perfect flare of spice to add to Ghost, and he’s a sweet ghoul to be around

But that doesn’t stop him from being a literal menace to society

Swiss has a really strange habit of breaking into people’s rooms and just jumping on their beds to wake them up

All while he’s obnoxiously telling them to get up, much to the other’s annoyance

You once threw him across the room for waking you up, and Swiss was just laughing so hard on the floor when he saw your reaction

Since he’s quite literally known as the Swiss Army Ghoul, he’s good at almost everything.

Including cooking. He likes to cook a lot of meals for the people living in the ministry

Bro even has a stereotypical pink “kiss the cook” apron, he got it as a birthday gift from you

But the “cook” part is crossed out with a red sharpie and instead Swiss replaced with “dick”

Why? Because it’s fucking Swiss.

He also made it a point to bake everyone’s birthday cakes, but he’ll slip in something stupid to be funny

One time Cirrus was cutting her birthday cake and she got a whole ass doll head in there, which left her very confused

Swiss isn’t allowed to make people’s birthday cakes anymore because of that

Also sometimes Swiss will get high out of nowhere

No one knows what the fuck he’s doing because this ghoul is all over the place, but when he’s high he says the most out of pocket stuff

There was this one time he messaged the ghoul group chat while taking an edible saying “this edible is weak as shit.”

But then right after that message, he attached a picture of you and sent it with the caption “I’ve always wanted to fuck them.”

You could hear Sodo’s laughter from his room after that.

And when Swiss got sobered up, you asked him about the message, but bro literally refuses to acknowledge he sent it

“Swiss did you send that message from earlier—“

“No.”

“Then who did?”

“The hat man.”

“THE WHAT MAN?!”

“Oh so this suddenly isn’t a safe space?”

Ah Aether. We all love Aether. I mean who doesn’t?

We all know how much of a little psycho Aether can be, but he’s a lovable psycho that just exerts a lot of fun energy

That doesn’t stop him from being a little fucker however

He likes to pull a lot of pranks with Swiss, Sodo unfortunately being his main target

So there was this one time he asked you to help him prank the poor fire ghoul, and you said yes because you felt like messing with Sodo

(And also partly because you were kinda pissed with him due to the fact that he ate your leftovers)

So the prank was to put a bunch of sticky notes in Sodo’s room that all read “big cock energy” (because of course it did)

However during the process of putting the sticky notes in the room, Sodo walked in on two idiotic fools, those fools being you and Aether of course

And it’s safe to say that for a solid twenty minutes, the two of you were running around the ministry with an angry flaming fire ghoul hot on your trail, giggling like little children

(Sodo spared you, but Aether wasn’t so lucky)

“SODO PLEASE SPARE ME— WHY SPARE Y/N?!?!!”

“Because I hate them less than you, NOW C’MERE—“

Aether once fell asleep with a rotten ass banana peel

Like no joke— you once walked in his room to ask for something and his whole room STANK of rancid and rotten banana

And Aether was just sitting there, confused as to why you looked like you were about to throw up on his bedroom floor

Rain had to fucking disinfect the room (with a gas mask because it smelled that bad)

Oh and you Rain breaks things? Aether is so much worse

He once tried to clean up Swiss’s mic stand for an upcoming tour and the damn thing just- fell apart

Swiss was more bewildered than upset, because how in hell does that happen?

You literally do not let him touch your equipment because he’s gonna somehow find a way to break it all

When Aether departed from Ghost you were very sad

But then he messaged the group chat with this message “I’ll miss all of you fuckers. Be nice to the new ghoul, love all of you <33 (except for you Sodo, fuck you)”

Sodo then bursted out of his room tackling Aether, but it was more so out of love rather than being an ass

Needless to say, you all still keep in touch with Aether

Phantom!!! We all love Phantom here

Since he was newer and the one of the more recently summoned ghouls, he had a hard time fitting in

But you and the other ghouls thankfully made him feel welcome, even if it took a little more time for some other ghouls to get used to him

And because of that, it didn’t take long for Phantom to start joking in the ghoul chaos

He is literally a walking meme

Phantom is the type of guy to quote old vines and also keep up with any meme trends

Part of being the youngest ghoul I guess

He often confuses Papa with his little antics (because he’s an old man), and you’re just silently laughing at Papa’s reactions to Phantom

Also Phantom has a habit of holding things weirdly

You thought it was just his guitar? Bestie no, the dude is holding things the wrong way all the time but still somehow makes it work

Like— he holds onto a pen like it’s about to grow a pair of legs and run out of his hand, but he still somehow has the most beautiful cursive handwriting there is

“…. Phantom— what are you doing? You’re holding that pen like it’s a—“

“Hush, Y/N. I’m writing everything I want for Christmas this year.”

Phantom can also be a bit of a nerd sometimes

Like— you know those kids in school that are so dorky and have that awkward teenager energy? But you can’t be annoyed at them because they’re so cute? Yeah, that’s Phantom

Man’s will ramble about the most nerdy thing so passionately that you can’t help but listen, it’s cute seeing him get all excited over… legos or something

Oh and if someone dares to insult his passion he will spread legos all over their room

(Poor Swiss was a victim of that unfortunately)

Oh yeah he almost once accidentally vacuumed Copia’s pet rat

The dude was just trying to clean up his room, and one of the little fuckers scurried in his room, and the rat’s tail got stuck in the vacuum

Phantom’s high pitched scream upon realization was enough to have you bolting in the room to check in on the poor ghoul

And you were met with the sight of Phantom desperately trying to pull out a screaming rat from the vacuum while the ghoul was on the verge of tears because he didn’t want to get scolded

You ended up helping him because no one wants to see Phantom sad

And it’s safe to say Copia now has one pet rat with no tail.

▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 7th

Stuck In Wall, Sodo/Dewdrop x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Stuck in Wall; Dubcon; dry humping; piv; unprotected sex; trapped reader; semi-public sex; free use?; spanking; cunnilingus; fingering;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man

If you wanna be on the taglist, just reply or shoot me a message. If you want to scream at me, my ask box is also open!

🔞 MDNI 🔞

In a moment of surreal disbelief, you found yourself wedged in the narrow crevice of a wall that seemed to have a sinister appetite for unsuspecting victims. All you wanted was to pick up the pen you dropped. Cosmic punishment for carrying too many things - and your habit not having any pockets. The cold, clammy surface pressed against your body, the rough texture of the bricks biting into your skin as panic surged through your veins. You were the proverbial Tinkerbell in the keyhole. Except your keyhole was a hole in the wall in the middle of Papa Copia’s in-the-process-of-being-refurbished suite. Your Papa was going to kill if you were late for your meeting with him.

“Help!” You called out. Repeatedly. But it didn’t feel like anyone could hear you.

You didn’t know how long you’d been trapped for - your voice was hoarse from calling out so much and you were convinced that you’d be stuck there until the builders came in the morning.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

“Dew! Thank Asmodeus! I thought I was gonna die in here.”

“What the hell happened to you? Papa’s out for blood, you wasted his time!” Swiss’ voice came next.

“Oh shit, how long was he waiting?”

“Long enough.”

“Swiss, please go tell him what happened. I don’t want him to kill me.”

“You want him to kill me instead? I see how it is.”

“No! He wouldn’t. Please, Swiss. Or I’ll have to run away and join a Catholic convent for converted Satanists.”

“Please,” Dewdrop said, “you’d burn up in hellfire before you could even reach the front door.”

“I’ll go, but you owe me.” Swiss told you.

You kicked your legs out. “Yes! Whatever you want, please!”

“Well don’t give me that power.”

And with that, you heard a pair of footsteps walk away and the front door of Copia’s suite shut closed. You were now alone with Dew. “We’d better work on getting you out then, I guess.”

Dew’s firm hands placed on either side of your hips and began to gently pull at them - he didn’t want to hurt you. The only problem was where his hands were placed. Sure, if he pulled hard enough, he could get you out of there with no problem. But the firmness and the placement had a heat pooling between your legs that shouldn’t be there. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been touched in a long time. Maybe it was because you were harbouring feelings for this nameless ghoul. Or maybe it was the action of him pulling you out from a vulnerable position, you weren’t sure. But what you did know was that you wouldn’t be mad at him if certain appendages of his touched certain appendages of yours. You vaguely heard Dew speaking, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“What?” You asked.

“How did this even happen, anyway?”

You explained the situation to him.

“Of course, it would be you.”

The more Dew kept tugging, the more your habit rose up. There was a chill around your now damp panties where they had been exposed to the cold air. You were unsure how much of your underwear he could see, but you knew that you were on display for him.

You were also incredibly unaware of how Dew was feeling at this moment himself. The way that you were bent and exposed to him, the way that you were vulnerable at this very moment. He hated himself for how he was feeling but it was affecting him a lot more than what he wanted it to. And he certainly had no plans in acting on his feelings until his body moved forward a little faster than he wanted and his erection landed on your centre. He closed his eyes in brief relief, but now that he’d felt it once, he was desperate to feel it again.

You couldn’t believe that this was happening at first, that you felt what you felt. Dew was a great guy - one of the best. He wouldn’t take advantage of you like this. Never in a million years would he betray your trust. It must have been an honest mistake and that was the thought you had until it happened again. And again. And again. Each time he was hitting your clothed clit precisely and forcing you to hold back moans. You hand flew to your mouth and you shut your eyes tightly. If he was actually helping you and this was just what bodies did then you couldn’t make it weird. Like when your tattooist is leaning over you and you accidentally touch a part of their body you weren’t supposed to - just the nature of the position you’re in.

That was, of course, until you heard it.

It was quiet, barely there, but it was a groan passing his lips. Definitely a pleasured groan. “Dew, what are you doing?” You asked, trying to hold your own sinful noises back.

“Fuck! I’m sorry, Sister. I didn’t mean to but now I can’t stop.” He gripped your hips tighter and rubbed himself against your pussy more confidently now his game was up, and his noises came unabashedly, too. Uncaring whimpers and moans fell from his lips as he orchestrated his pleasure using your body: and it was the hottest thing you’d ever experienced, despite any anxieties you were feeling. Not because you didn’t want this - but because -

“Swiss could be back at any moment! With Papa! We shouldn’t do this.” A few of your own whimpers started escaping.

“No, you’re right,” you heard the zipper of Dew’s jeans unzip followed by some shuffling. You felt your panties being moved to the side, your soaking wet snatch now fully exposed to any passers by. “We really should stop.” His now unmistakably bare cock began to run through your completely naked folds, focusing on your clit as he continued to use you to get himself off. His voice was slow and monotonous as if he were entranced by his feelings. “We should stop.”

When his head brushed over your clit, you let out a particularly loud whine which made him thrust a little more next time. “Please, Dew.” You didn’t know what you were begging for. The logical side of your brain was begging Dew to stop what he was doing and help you get out. But the other side of your brain, the incredibly horny, touch-starved side, was begging him to position himself a little higher and just sink all the way home. Stretch your tight, little pussy out until it had molded to the shape of him.

Dew, however, seemed to take it as the latter request. His cock, now completely slicked up by you, was lined up to your entrance the second he heard your beg, and he began to push in.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

“Satan have mercy - how are you so big?” You felt like your eyes were going to bulge from their sockets in a rather cartoonish way. “Where did you hide that thing? You’re tiny.”

That remark earned you a harsh slap on your ass cheek. “I wouldn’t be so mouthy if I were you, Sister.” He was now buried all the way to the hilt. “Not when you have no way to save yourself.” He pulled out of you and slammed back in, the force of it ripping a scream from your throat. You heard him laugh from the other side of the wall before doing it again.

“Fucking hell, Dew!”

“You like that?” He spanked you again.

“Yes!”

“Do you want me to do it again?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“No.”

“What?”

“Use your words and I might.”

“Please do it again, Dew! I wanna feel you do it again.”

He groaned. “You’re so pretty when you beg for it, Sister.”

He did it again, a little harder than before and coupled with another spank.

And again.

And again.

Dew knew what he was doing, and pulled out every move he had saved to fuck you like you deserved. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long, Sister.” He confessed. His thrusts were so brutal, you could feel the wall shaking every time he entered you.

Soon enough, you felt his thrusts become erratic, and with a quick “cumming!”, he emptied himself into you. “You didn’t cum.” He said mindlessly, his hand coming down on your ass one final time.

He groped your ass cheeks and pushed them up after the hit this time, which caused your labia to spread apart and allowed him to see his own come oozing out of you. He dove into your cunt, slurping his own seed out of you and playing with your delicate clit while his hands continued to pull your body apart. “We can’t have Papa knowing how I just sodomised his personal assistant, can we?” Dew taunted before plunging back in.

Once more, his tongue touched your folds and there was nothing to soften the impact, so you cried out in pain. But as soon as his tongue was on you, it vanished, to be quickly replaced by two fingers prodding at your entrance, pushing in without a fight and starting to work right away. His slender and long fingers curved downward to hit you where you were screaming, taking advantage of your position.

In order to get you to cum before Papa and Swiss arrived, he started to finger you more vigorously, amplifying the squelch of your heat. You could feel yourself teetering on the brink due to the way his fingers were sliding inside of you and how forcefully he sucked on your clit. You eventually came, biting into the knuckles of your fingers to silence the overwhelming need to scream.

That was when you both heard footsteps, and felt Dew’s hands rush to make you decent before the door opened.

“Tesoro!” Papa cried as he entered the room. His voice wasn’t angry, much to your relief. He was desperately concerned. “Topolina, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?”

Still exhausted from your orgasm, you tried your best to reassure your worried Papa that you were mostly okay, save your pride which was incomparably in shatters at the present moment.

Eventually, they got you out of the wall.

But that wouldn’t be the only time you met Dewdrop for a secret rendezvous.

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

[sodoshame]

Are You Warm Enough?

Nameless Ghouls x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None! Just fluff.

Summary: You fall asleep in the library, waking up in a ghouls arms. You then end up in a ghoul pile.

A/N: This is quite short, I’m sorry! Hope you enjoy though!

Trying to keep my eyes open, I groan as I sit up in my chair, stretching my arms out. I’m so, so incredibly tired; but Sister Imperator is insisting that I get this task done before the end of the day. Looking around the library, I realise there’s no-one else here. Surely a little nap won’t hurt? I set an alarm on my phone for twenty minutes, and I rest my head on the desk, allowing my eyes to close.

~20 minutes later~

I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket. Confused, my eyes flicker open. Suddenly I realise I’m being carried. Looking up, I see a familiar, friendly face.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Aether smiles at me, still walking whilst carrying me.

“Aeth? I- What?” I mumble, still sleepy and confused.

“You’re gonna come back to the ghoul den, okay? You’ve been working too much, and we miss you.” He said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But- Sister Imperator-” I start, looking around in slight confusion.

“Don’t worry about her. We’ll take care of it.” He smiles at me again, entering the common room. Putting me back on my feet, Aether shouts out to the others, alerting them of my presence.

Before I can do anything about it, I feel a strong pair of arms lift me up again, carrying me to the couch. I look up, being met with a toothy grin.

“Hi there, baby girl.” Swiss grins, sitting on the sofa and positioning me so my head is on his lap. Still sleepy, I look around, not really knowing what’s going on. I feel Swiss start to scratch my head gently with his claws, making me relax a bit.

“Mhm, that’s nice…” I mumble sleepily, letting my eyes close again.

I feel my legs be lifted up, then put back down. Opening my eyes again, I glance over to see Aether, who’s gently massaging my calves. Before I know it, Dew jumps on top of me, promptly snuggling his head into my neck, wrapping his arms around my waist, immediately purring.

“Oh, hey Dewy.” I chuckle sleepily. He responds by giving me a little squeeze and nuzzling into my neck.

Mountain walks in, ruffling my hair, as he sits down by Swiss’ legs, leaning against him. I smile at him, just accepting what I now knew was happening. A ghoul cuddle pile.

I hear excited chattering, I look up to see Cirrus and Cumulus walk in. They both grin at me and Cumulus settles down next to Swiss, leaning against him, and Cirrus plants herself on top of her. Then comes Rain and Phantom; they sit either side of Mountain, snuggling into him. Rain holds his hand up, clutching mine and giving it a little squeeze. I feel Dew raise his head slightly.

“Are you warm enough?” He asks, sounding tired himself.

“Yeah, but guys-” I start talking but am immediately interrupted by Dew snuggling his face back into my neck.

“Then sleep.” He mumbles simply.

I chuckle, finally giving into my tiredness. There’s no place I’d rather be than surrounded by my ghouls.

[angellayercake]

face down in décolletage - chapter 1

Papa Emeritus IV x Fem Reader | NSFW | AO3

Disclaimer: Copia talking about being face down in tits has all the feminism leaving my body. I am sorry but he can leer at my boobs any day and I would thank him. So TW for Copia being a fucking perv and kind of degrading but if you are into that we are golden!

For @ghostchems for being feral with me 💜💜 love you!

With a dramatic puff you try to blow the hair sticking to your face away. It was so damn hot today you would rather be anywhere but at work but here you are. Another day, another show. You glance down at your clipboard, Ghost. You think you have heard of them, some kind of religious band from a church. When you had first started working at the venue you used to enjoy excitedly researching all the bands that passed through but now you just looked forward to getting through the night. As you scan down your clipboard you notice your top has ridden down again. You glance around quickly and yank it back up hoping that none of the guys noticed the blue frills of your bra peeking out the top. 

Maybe if you had got up earlier you would have had time to pick a different outfit or even check the weather forecast but as you had rolled out of bed and straight into the only clean clothes you had left you were stuck wearing your most revealing vest top with your most ridiculous push up bra. You had to live with the consequences of your lack of organisation combined with the stifling heat wave that had you sweating in even the little you were wearing. You just had to deal with it. 

The sounds of the buses pulling in draws your attention from your wardrobe woes and back to the job at hand, which for you is making sure the band stay happy for the duration of their stay at the venue. Their rider had been prepared and set up for them and you would be on hand to help them with anything else they needed. You hoped these guys weren’t dicks, there had been a run of assholes recently that had the stupidest demands but that was the job. You watch them pile out onto the forecourt all dressed in black and wearing helmets? Masks? You can’t quite see but they all huddle together just off to the side not approaching the manager who had stepped up to greet them.

A commotion from the bus draws everyone's eyes from the group of strangely dressed musicians and you see the frontman of this band for the first time. He was wearing a burgundy tracksuit, a fake designer shirt and leather brogues. And he had just dropped an armful of juice boxes as he tripped out the bus. He knelt down scrambling to pick them all up, fumbling with the broken packaging until one of the masked people must have taken pity on him, letting him pile them up in their arms. He looks up only now taking notice of all the eyes trained on him. As he straightens up he offers an awkward wave and a forced smile until the venue manager steps forward and introduces themselves. 

After a brief conversation you notice them making their way down the line of staff, which although not unheard of was unusual. The band manager would usually meet with venue staff not the talent but he must have insisted on being introduced to everyone. He shakes people's hands and gestures to the musicians behind him. You glance down at your clipboard as you wait your turn. Papa Emeritus IV and the eight Nameless Ghouls. He was the frontman and leader of the band and the Nameless Ghouls were instrumentalists. Your attention snaps back up when they reach the person beside you and you get your first proper look at him.

He’s not much taller than you and it’s hard to see much of his body under the baggy tracksuit but his face. He was oddly handsome, perfectly proportioned with strong features and carefully slicked back salt and pepper hair. The face paint he wore only accentuated his unusual mismatched eyes. But as he approaches you notice his gaze doesn’t land anywhere near your face. No he is looking directly at your boobs, with his mouth hanging open no less. You know they are very visible today but this middle aged man is gawping at you like a teenager seeing a porn mag for the first time. You clear your throat offering him your hand and he looks up at your face at last. Realising he had been caught a fetching blush grows across his cheeks that you find slightly adorable in spite of his leering. He takes your hand but as you attempt to shake it he tries to bring it up to his face. The back of your hand ends up squashed against his nose and you can feel his lip paint smudging on you. He drops your hand so quickly the momentum swings it away from you and his face is almost as red as his tracksuit when he moves on. What an odd man.  

You don’t see him much for the rest of the day, you are kept so busy keeping the ‘Nameless Ghouls’ in line. They are a fun bunch, quite mischievous but polite in spite of it all. The few times you do see him you can feel his eyes all over you and you find your annoyance building. What was with this guy? You had since discovered that he was the leader of not only this very satanic rock band but also the associated religious organisation, he was well into his fifties and while he was attractive you had to admit he was really quite odd. You shrug it off though. There was only an hour left until the show and although your manager would help you if you complained, something, you weren’t sure what, was stopping you. 

By the time the supporting act had finished it was all hands on deck to get the transition completed smoothly. Your arms are full of the discarded outfits of the supporting band so you can get them to the laundry when you pass by his dressing room but you are so consumed with your thoughts you fail to notice when the door opens and he steps out in front of you. You collide into him with a bump dropping everything that was piled in your arms at his feet.  

‘Papa Emeritus! I’m so sorry.’ It is not lost on you that you are now taking your turn to fumble around on the floor in front of him or that where he is standing above you gives him a perfect view down your top. Your arms full once again you kneel slowly, noticing all the differences about him as you go. The scuffed brogues are gone, replaced with perfectly shined expensive looking boots. His slim calves were covered in tight denim which clung all the way up his legs. His thighs were covered in ripped fabric that did nothing to hide the shape of them. It’s lucky your hands are full because just as he seemed unable to not look at your tits you might not be able to resist running your hands up his thighs and... Your mouth goes dry when you notice the lace up fly on his trousers but you stop that thought short. 

His jacket, while interesting, as distressed as his trousers with dramatic gold detailing and epaulettes, it's his face that captures your attention. He reaches down helping you back to your feet and as you stand you just stare taking in all the details of his stark black and white face paint. He is transformed, not just in how he looks although his painted face and sharp clothes differ so much from earlier. No, his whole demeanour has shifted. His nervous smile is replaced by an easy confident smirk when you meet his eyes, clearly having noticed your appraisal of him. 

‘You better be coming to watch the show cara mia.’ he says as he begins to walk away from you. Occasionally you do find time to catch the performances more often you are busy all evening but the way he says it feels like an order more than a request

‘I will try after I have finished my …’ he spins back round fixing you with a demanding look. 

‘No you will. I am not asking.’ He steps towards you, close to boxing you in against the closed door of his dressing room. ‘Your job is to make me happy, no? And what will make me happy is you watching the show from the side where I tell you.’ His proximity and commanding tone broker no argument so you just nod in agreement but he doesn’t give you room, just raises his eyebrows as if to communicate he is still waiting.  

‘Yes Papa.’ you breath hoping that was the answer he was waiting for. 

‘Bene, I will look for you cara, do not disappoint me.’ Only then does he stalk off with only a few minutes to spare. 

With the threat of his disappointment hanging over you you rush through the last of your tasks before making your way to the stage. He is waiting to the side as the last checks are completed. You don’t approach him as he seems to be deep in his preparations but he spots you as he paces, nodding and pointing to an out of the way area where you still have a good view. You can hear the crowd cheering in anticipation and in only a few minutes the lights go down and the music starts to swell. He has kept up his pacing back and forth, occasionally jogging on the spot as he waits for his cue. Your attention is drawn to the stage as the pyrotechnics soar and the guitars kick in and then running up to the centre of the stage in the midst of it all is him.

The show could only be described as mesmerising. Both Papa and the Ghouls had the crowd in the palm of their hand as they performed song after song. The costume changes and confetti, the smoke and the sparks, you couldn’t look away. You almost wished you were down in the audience so you could experience it properly. However there was one particular benefit to your position and that was having a clear view of Papa’s wardrobe. Everytime he hurried back for a new outfit or prop you received a smile or a wink and as time went on more and more heated looks. You weren’t entirely sure why he had wanted you there but you got the feeling you would enjoy whatever it was. 

He had announced their last song to cries of despair from the crowd but that only seemed to spur them on giving a rousing performance and he left the stage to a roar of appreciation. The ghouls continued playing as he ducked into the wardrobe for the last time, shrugging off the black jacket he was currently wearing in exchange for a dazzling blue sequined one. It reflected the light even in the dark corner of the stage you were both in. Instead of running back on stage though, this time he approached you.

‘Now there is something I need your help with cara mia, please follow me.’ He takes your hand and pulls you with him towards the narrow backstage corridor.  It is very rarely used now but it was originally for performers to get from one side of the stage to the other with no hindrance but what he could need your help with here you had no idea. About halfway down he stops suddenly manoeuvring you between him and the wall in the narrow corridor

‘You hear them all screaming for me cara mia?’ He asks with a smirk. He knows full well you can hear the screaming that's why you have your ear protectors slung around your neck. His arm rests on the wall above your head bringing him so close you can feel the heat radiating off of him, and smell the spicy scent of his cologne and his exertion. He’s taller than earlier, his fancy boots giving him a boost so although he is far from towering over you, this close you need to make an effort to look up at him as you speak. 

‘You must be happy, knowing that all those thousands of people enjoyed your show.’ It is quite obvious where this conversation is headed but you are curious to see how exactly he plans to proposition you when the memory of him fumbling his juice boxes is so fresh in your memory.

‘Si that should make me happy but really there is only one person I want to hear screaming tonight.’ His piercing mismatched eyes burn into yours and you know he is talking about you. You almost can’t breathe from the intensity and you wonder how this could be the same man as earlier. The only real similarity is the way his eyes trail down from your face all the way to your cleavage. Forcing yourself to finally take a deep breath you watch his eyes follow the rise and fall of your chest and you feel an unexpected heat rising within you. You weren’t a stranger to men staring at your boobs, it kind of came with the territory and usually someone staring this blatantly would earn a slap, but you enjoyed his eyes on you and it only made you want more, as it had all day. He leans in until he is close enough to whisper directly in your ear. 

‘Would you like this? A little after party just for us?’ His voice is low and seductive and you are only really able to hear him because he is so close you are almost touching. ‘For me to give you your own private performance, show you all my best moves then make you scream for me?’ Without saying much of anything at all he paints such a vivid picture and you want all of it. You could feel his painted lips brushing your ear ever so slightly as you leaned in and you knew what your answer was going to be. 

‘I … yes. Please.’ You feel his mouth pull into a grin as he steps even closer, his body flush with yours. You expect him to move to do something but he just continues to look at you, eyes burning into your already flushed and overheated skin. The leer he is giving you as he looks down your top shouldn’t be making you feel this way and yet you find yourself somehow desperate for the touches that look threatens. 

‘Thank you, cara,’ he pinches your chin tilting it up to just the right angle so that he can slot his mouth against yours, except he doesn’t. No he locks you in with his gaze, keeping you hypnotised and still as he ghosts his lips across your cheek and down your neck and as his lips finally make contact at the juncture of your neck and collar bone do you realise that he was just positioning you to get unhindered access to your chest. But as he settles his hands on your waist and begins to gently suck your sensitive skin you can’t even bring yourself to be annoyed. 

You lean your head back against the wall behind you and let your eyes drop closed so you can just concentrate on the feeling of his mouth on you. He nibbles along your collarbone soothing the marks with his tongue as he goes before dipping lower. He moans as his lips meet the curve of your breast and he stops, sucking a deep mark right in the centre before sinking his teeth into your soft flesh. It’s not deep and he doesn’t seem intent on inflicting pain on you, just feeling your body give way to him. You find your fingers woven in his hair not sure whether your intention was to push him away or pull him further in but you do neither and just let him take what he wishes. As he finishes marking you he licks a trail following the curve down into your cleavage and back up to the other side, peppering kisses everywhere he can reach. 

‘Mmmm,’ he moans as if he was eating his favourite meal. ‘So good cara mia, so perfect.’ He slides his hands up from your waist until they are cupping your breasts, spreading them apart so there is just enough room to bury his face between them. His moans are muffled in his new position but that doesn’t stop you noticing him getting louder. His hands start a slow massaging squeeze that has you moaning, turning into a whine when he stops, hooking his fingers into the top of your bra and pulling back to look at you. The heat and his touches have turned your brain to mush so it takes you a moment to realise he is asking you a question and a moment longer to register what it is. 

‘May I?’ he asks, starting to pull at your already revealing neckline. You can feel his knuckles brushing your nipples and you can only imagine how much better it will feel if you allow him full access. He is watching you intently so he catches your slight nod and slowly reveals them to his hungry eyes letting your top and bra bunch up just underneath like he doesn’t have the patience to wait to remove them properly. You watch his eyes light up as he sees your pierced nipples, the small gems glinting as you move even in the harsh light of the corridor. 

‘Così bella mia cara,’ he whispers as he ghosts his mouth over you, the tip of his tongue flicking at one nipple then the other. He grins up at you as you gasp, his teasing touch feeling almost too much already. You think back to a moment ago when you compared him to all the other men that you caught gawping at your cleavage. You had been so wrong. Never had you had such attention lavished on you, turning you to putty in his hands just from this. He sealed his lips around a nipple, sucking it into his mouth and toying with the piercing with his tongue and the other he rolled between his fingers twisting and pulling and pinching. Your fingers tighten in his hair, encouraging him closer. He pulls off your nipple with a pop, kissing and licking across until his whole face is between them finally relinquishing your other nipple so he can push them together while shaking his head back and forth. 

‘Papa?,’ another voice intrudes into your consciousness and you all of a sudden remember where you are and who you are with and the thousands of people waiting for an encore. You try to jump away from him but you are so securely pinned between him and the wall. He pulls away just as the footsteps get closer tucking you back into your top. His face paints are surprisingly intact although there are grey smudges all over you there is no hiding what was being done to you. ‘Papa,’ the stage assistant says as they round the corner and find you. ‘They are all still here calling for more.’

‘Excuse my cara. I am needed,’ he winks at you, gesturing for the assistant to go on ahead. He steps towards you pining you back in place tilting your chin up to force you to look at him once again. ‘But if you want to continue this, be in my dressing room at the end of the show.’ He turns on his heel heading in the same direction only to pause before he rounds the corner. ‘And I want you undressed.’ You are surprised your knees hadn’t buckled yet you were so worked up, the possibilities of what would happen if you followed his instructions buzzing in your mind. 

The crescendo of screams as he walks back on the stage breaks you from your reverie, and forces you into action. You don’t even need to think, the decision already made by your racing heart and your wet pussy. You push off the wall knowing you only have three songs to follow his instructions but you don’t need to rush just yet as you can still hear him addressing the crowd. Exiting the corridor on the other side of the stage you listen for a moment. He hushes their screams so he can banter with them for a moment.

‘I was already at the after show party,’ He says gesturing behind him to the fictional afterparty. You laugh to yourself starting to head towards the dressing room so you can get ready for what you are sure is going to be a memorable night. But the next words out of his mouth freeze you on the spot. ‘You know I had my face down in some decolletage and someone said that they are still all here.’ A laugh barks out of you in disbelief. That smug sexy bastard! 

[ace-of-gay]

hello <3 i hope you are doing well!

i was wondering if you could do a papa emeritus or ghoul x a regressor with a cold?

i have been down sick for like a week now and i live and breathe ghost agere right now

anyways thank you <3

Sickly ghoul

Warnings: just some not very detailed descriptions of age regression

age regression is a coping that can both voluntary and/or involuntary it is entirely safe and reccomended by therapists if they believe it would be effective for said person but as mentioned for some people it is entirely unpredictable, if this makes you uncomfortable please carry on elsewhere thank you <3

⸸~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~⛧~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~⸸

It started with the headache before the last ritual in this stretch of the country, a rolling pain that cast in like wayves in the ocean crashing as the shore rises.

not thinking much of it you drink an extra bottle of water and take a couple store brand over the counter pain killers giving it all through rehearsals to let them set in and do their job, the shrill of sodos guitar before tain stops him is absolutely agonizing, you try not to let it affect you but with how you wince back from your place just enough for papa copia to notice out of the corner of his eye and glance over but in that time you had corrected yourself and shrugged it off hoping that you could just take more pain killers between the rehearsal and the ritual.

After rehearsals, a spinning and pounding head was now accompanied by feeling like your body was cold sweating, making the assumption you were anxious yousit down to breath for a moment, taking one more pain killer and another swig of water you apply your glamor making your full ghoulish horns, tail and pierce grey skin fade to that of the complexion humans hold.

Putting on your mask once more standing up shaking off what you thought were nerves and returning to your place on stage.

One sense that ghouls are far more enhanced in is smell, using it to process how one another are doing, passing by swiss to head back on stage he caught the sense of something that seemed off, *surely youre not sick* he thinks to himself, *you might just be tired* he hopes thats all however during the ritual as you go about your routine putting on a show for the ritual goers, your eyes feeling warm and watery, it felt like it was both hot and cold in waves, you try once more to shrug it off for the rest of the show hoping its just a mix of a breeze and the lights seering down on all of you.

One thing you were thankful for when it came to your mask is the goggles part around the eyes worked like sunglasses so the flashing of the lights didn't do much of anything for you.

As you all go through ritual you prance around to swiss' side of the stage joining him on his little stage, as soon as the song started it came to a close with sodo wailing his whammy youd been trying to prepare for this part just incase the pain meds did nothing but by far it didn't work.

You only found out as he jerks his whammy bar making a siren wailing sound.

This time swiss could for certain smell and sense what was happening and against his hopes you were sick, he maneuvered behind you to keep you standing, "just a few more songs bub youre okay" he says loud enough for you to hear, the both of you making it look like a gentle preformative action, he takes your hand in his helping you step off of his riser and sending you back to your station in hopes to tough it through the rest of the ritual.

By the end of the ritual your head was pounding, you were congested, you felt like you were freezing while drenched in sweat and your chest felt so unbelievably tight, youre all lined up, swiss has you between him and rain, rain could instantly tell what was wrong by the simple touch of his hand holding yours.

Bowing and exiting the stage the two ghouls kept you infront of everyone calmly ushering you off stage, if for the sake of being sick they also knew that youd probably be regressing if you haven't already.

Leading to put your stuff away help the others but the sickness and the state of your mind slipping younger from not feeling good it had finally set it, walking over to mountains area to help with everything when gentle hands wrap kindly wrap around your shoulders from behind the hands graced with beautiful rough caloses that sang all of the time and effort they had put into their skill aethers hands so gentle and kind "youre sick little ghoul, youre going to go sit down and relax while we do this, go sit down baby" he hums as you give a pleading glance to mountain to get you out of this but the look he sends back is one that sets your headspace into full swing, a tiny little ghoul who just isnt feeling too good.

Aether with a caring hand on your back leads you once again back stage going straight to copia, you shake your head not wanting the confrontation of managing to get sick, "come on, theres nothing wrong with going to papa, hes our summoner, hes here to take care of us when needed and he can determine what you need best" he soothes the fiery fear in your regressed mind.

The great thing is he knew when his ghouls were regressed, being that its not uncommon for ghouls to regress with their instincts and such wired differently he wasnt new to soothing the ghouls as though they were kits.

Copia comes closer meeting you halfway with his hands open, his gould had already told him what was going on and he for certain would give you a good look over "come, come sit piccolo" he ushers.

Once seated he removes his gloves, this is proof that he cares because his gloves almost never come off around others unless hes handling his precious rats, he loosens the helmet like mask and setting it aside, gently lifting your chin to look at him.

"Drop your glamor for me per favore" he requests, watching as you return to your ghoulish self "aah perfetta" he sighs running his hands through your hair that had been flattened down, his fingertips brushing gently against yohr forehead when he feels just how warm your temperature is "oh kit, mio caro youre burning up" he worries, your sniffles break the silence as he looks so very kindly at you, he reaches over grabbing a paper towel and using it to wipe your nose like a parent would a child, completely disregarding how old you are out of this headspace, right now youre the kit and they will all hold and coddle you.

When all of the ghouls are done going about their after ritual routine they all start heading back to the tour bus to get comfortable now that they had a small week break between segments of the tour in this country, mountain and rain coming to collect you from copia, rain picking up your mask while mountain takes your hand helping you up on weak aching legs, slow steps and a gentle hold keeping you by his side so for you not to fall.

When you get there someone had already gotten you comfortable clothes that consisted of a hoodie from rains selections and some sweats and shirt from swiss' collection, all ready for you, their favorite thing to do when one of you is sick is to dote on the ill ghoul.

Gentle hands from sodo and rain helping you into the change of clothes "you smell like all of us, you will be better in no time kit, youre in the best hands" sodo smiles encouragingly, "lets get you to a nap, we'll wake you when we get to the hotel" aether comments leading you to the large bed in the back instead of to your bunk but stopping by to pick up your stuffy you take everywhere, "do you need cuddles little one?" To which you nod "yes pease" you respond, your voice coming out far more little and sickly than you had expected he nods laying down so you can lay around or against him however you please, you curl up with your head on his chest falling asleep almost immediately. He places a kiss to tour forehead only to notice that you very much have a fever, he mumbles out sadly "youre warmer than sodo on a bad day"

The cuddles were so perfect but was even better was as you bunked with swiss and phantom, they figured that even though normally its one to a bed, but the kit needs their cuddles and these two are happy to do so.

After a hot bath they had ran you they made sure for you to have eaten and gotten even more rest, when youd try to get up theyd tell you to point and theyd figure it out, so mu h love shared from all of your band mates, you were the baby and theyd do anything to take care of you the exact same way you do every time theyre in need of love and care, they would be happy to stick it through just to see you glow like your radiant self again.

Phantom wrapped around on your left eith swiss on your right theyre happy to so what they can until your cold went away, because they love the team kit, "sleep well baby, get some rest" hed hum, with plenty of comfort foods and snacks and drinks all together.

After such events even if you werent that sick in your opinion they would go out of their way to make sure you were healthy and happy

⸸~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~⛧~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~⸸

[xximperioxx]

Swiss Ghoul Drabble

Inspired by this beauty. Also pls be gentle on me I’ve never been to a ritual before plus and it’s been a bit since I’ve written anything!

Swiss Ghoul x ghoulette reader

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

You were a nameless ghoulette who sang backing vocals and tambourines during rituals. Most shows you would go bug Sodo or dance with Swiss with your tambourine during Kiss the Go-Goat. It was a great show tonight and the crowd was wild. You’ve noticed the crowd got a little too excited when Swiss came over to you during Mummy Dust playing his guitar. You were singing back up when he walked over and got down on his knees, you tilted your head confused. You smile as you watched him lift his vape to you, still on his knees. You smirk, an idea coming to mind as you inhale plenty before holding it in. You lean down and grab his jaw before exhaling the smoke in his face.

Before you knew it the ritual was over and you had picked up some guitar picks that had found themselves on the floor after Aether and Sodo threw them at each other. You walked over to the crowd and tossed the picks out, your heart warmed at the cheers they gave when you came over. Putting your hand on your heart to show that you were thankful, you didn’t notice another ghoul coming up behind you.

Suddenly you feel two hands grab your boobs, causing your eyes to widen and the crowd to get louder. Your hand immediately went on top of the one hands and immediately knew who they belonged to judging by the size difference of your hands. You turn your head to see Swiss with a cheeky smile before he takes his hands off and wraps one around your waist and pulls you into his side. You let out a laugh when you see that smile and accidentally bump masks.

He lets go, walking away to continue to give picks away. Still smiling, you wave and kiss the crowd goodbye before going backstage.

You walk back to your dressing room with a water, barely noticing Swiss trailing behind you. “Hey, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, if I did…”, the ghoul trails off.

You jump a little, not expecting it but give a small smile before speaking, “You’re fine, Swiss, besides I think the crowd liked it a little more than you did.” You laugh.

You swear you hear him let you a growl, “I doubt it.”

Smirking, you drape your arms around his shoulders. Swiss subconsciously grips your waist, pulling you in closer.

“I liked it, in case you were wondering,” you let out in a sinful voice. Swiss immediately kicks the door of the dressing room closed before he kisses you desire.

[multi-fandom-of-madness]

I’m beginning to obsess over Alpha ghoul. He’s becoming a problem in my brain.

[sink-me-in-your-ocean]

Just a Quick(ie) Change

Papa Copia x gn!Reader smut

WC: 3100

A/N: I think I blacked out when I wrote this at 2am. This one is for @endhisbloodlineinmyesophagus - thank you for spamming me with pics of Copia’s amazing thighs.

Content warnings: oral sex m!receiving. 18+ only. Minors DNI.

NSFW below the cut.

Hired as a quick-change assistant, you didn’t expect much from the job backstage for Papa Emeritus IV.

You never expected, one, that you’d actually enjoy your job, and two, that the two other assistants would quit right before a tour. 

It was much too close to the start of the ritual tour to hire someone on the spot. Sister Imperator always had the last word, and since the clergy was thousands of miles away from her at the moment, it was an inopportune time to be short-staffed. Papa required many, many intricate costume changes during rituals. Usually, these changes required at least six additional hands, but at least for the next several shows you’d have to make do with just your two.

It was down to you and him when he’d come backstage. Sometimes another member of the crew would bring him refreshments while the nameless ghouls stalled on stage, riffing and whatnot, but mostly it was just the two of you. This led to witty banter, goofy little mishaps, and the like. Some accidents even led to flirtatious jokes between you two as you quickly warmed to each other.

Papa rushed offstage, clutching the front of his trousers. Holding back a laugh, you couldn’t resist asking, “Are your pants falling off or are you just eager to see me?”

He put his hand to his heart, exclaiming a word in Italian before inhaling in a dramatic gasp. “My button popped off.”

You knew his button came off while he was performing - you had a small live monitor in your closet - coloring you thoroughly impressed by the movements of his hips. You had the cheesy line and a needle, thread, and replacement for the offending button prepared as soon as you saw it happen. 

The laugh you shared together wasn’t the first, and certainly would not be the last of the evening. You couldn’t place why it brought you so much joy to just make him smile in between sets. It was a moment of complete and utter glee in the midst of the madness that went into each ritual.

Zippers got caught, shoes were left untied, robes were wrinkled, the whole nine. It was like Murphy’s Law backstage sometimes… anything that could go wrong, would go wrong. 

On the second night of your solo adventure, in the middle of a particularly intricate change involving his Dracopia bat wings, Papa said something to you that would keep your mind stirring the entire night. He was on a high from the opening of the show, beaming at you from the moment he saw you, but this… this was different.

“I enjoy our time together, you know.”

“What?” Your focus was on the second, most stubborn, buckle as you stood in front of him. The harness couldn’t lace itself up so you kept working, your fingers nimbly adjusting as he kept speaking.

“Well, it’s just that I’m used to so many people poking and prodding me, shoving me this way and that, just going through the motions.” He paused, tilting his head to listen for his cue coming up before he continued, “But with you this is different, I feel like I’m actually getting a break instead of just being rushed around like a…how do they say... chicken with its head cut off.”

You finished the last buckle, securing it in place and patting his arm as you were utterly lost for words. His sentiment cut through you like a blade, but was as soft as a feather pillow. 

He turned on his heel as he walked away, but paused and looked over his shoulder, winking at you before walking back on stage. The crowd of devotees screamed and you stood alone in the dark, accompanied only by the mass of butterflies in your stomach. 

The rest of the night went by as usual, but somehow smoother than expected. The stolen glances between you and Papa were more heated, and held more weight than before. Neither one of you crossed that threshold that night though; You refused to be the first one to take this - whatever this is - to the next level.

The next show you were alone, yet once more. Sister Imperator unsurprisingly didn’t like any of the candidates that had applied for the position, not deeming them ‘good enough’ to work with Copia. She never called him Papa, you noticed. 

Sister was doing her best to assuage you while simultaneously making your head hurt. She was always kind to you for some unknown reason, but tonight she was truly laying it on thick, “… but you, my dear, are a diamond in the rough. You’ll have to shine on your own just a little longer.”

The video call glitched, her word’s temporarily interrupted by a bad connection as she said something else.

“I’m sorry, would you repeat that? It sounded like you said it’s just going to be me for the rest of the week.”

“Oh no, I didn’t say that.” The video finally stabilized. You sighed in relief before she continued. “I said you’ll be on your own for the rest of the tour.”

Your face fell. It felt like a two-ton weight was placed on your chest, or that you were shoved in a truck, locked in, and the key was thrown away. 

No help? Seriously?

She noted your facial expression before you could reel yourself in. “Don’t worry my dear, we will compensate you more for the lack of help you have, but at least I know that my - cough - er, the Cardinal, will be happy in your capable hands.”

You tried to hide your dismay, “O-Kay.”

“I’ve got to run off now little one, try to make the best out of it, alright?”

“I promise, Sister, thank you.”

You sighed again, to no one this time and not out of relief. To be on your own the rest of the tour seemed, in practice, too much. You had only done two shows solo and the limited sanity you had was already wearing thin. Suddenly, you had a strange thought that warmed your body: if you’re the only one then that means more time for you and Papa to get to know each other. 

Your traitorous heart gave a squeeze. More time alone with him couldn’t possibly be a bad thing… could it?

Perhaps? Perhaps not. But you could certainly think of many, many bad things to do.

One week later 

Your heart was pounding as you did your final checks. Everything tonight was going to run perfectly. 

The first change went to plan, then the next. Every second that passed with the two of you in each other's vicinity felt like an eternity. Your own personal hell of stolen glances and small comments. Of shallow breaths and lingering touches. 

“Is this new?” He nodded to your night-black long-sleeved dress. All-black was the dress code for backstage crew so tonight you’d opted for a racy mini dress and long black stockings to cover your legs up to the thigh. Only a salacious inch of skin showed between the garments, and Papa couldn’t resist peeking. 

Flattered that he noticed, you blushed, “Yes, it is.” You straightened his robes, ensuring the easily-wrinkled fabric lay perfectly in its place. 

“I’d like to see it off you later.” He reached with one gloved hand and ran two fingers along the visible skin of your thigh, making you tremble with want. It felt like the little room turned into a furnace, just from that.

Quick as a flash he grabbed his prop from your open palm before you could react and darted back out to the stage, leaving you in shock with the realization that he wants you just as badly as you want him. 

You pace back and forth, setting everything out for the next change. At one point the stage manager pops in, asks you if you need anything and you assure them that you’re good. 

There’s only one person who can give you what you need.

As soon as the cue hits for him to exit your palms tingle in anticipation. Your eyes lit up as you saw him, stripping him out of the floor-length robe immediately to get started on the next change. But Papa had other ideas.

His gloved hands grabbed you firmly, one on your jaw and the other at your waist to pull you into a deep and sensuous kiss. You felt the electricity between you buzz from your lips down to your toes. Your body responded before you truly realized what was happening, and you kissed him back with equivalent enthusiasm. 

He growled as you parted your lips to dart your tongue out, grazing his teeth once before going back on the next kiss to taste his tongue. You moaned, greedily, taking in a deep breath through your nose to inhale his bouquet of fragrant cologne and hair products. It felt like the two of you were kissing with the need of long-lost lovers, reunited after a decade of time. He grabbed and groped at your body, pulling you closer as though he never wanted to let you go.

You did your best not to be too handsy with him in return, as you didn’t want to fuck up his costume.

Fuck! His costume!

The head-spinning thrill of the kiss made him miss his cue to go back on stage, both of you too caught up in the passion of the moment to feel the world around you. You broke the kiss and violently threw items at him to put on. Luckily this change was one of the easier ones, but it never looked good for Papa to delay his return to the stage.

The stage manager came in again, “Everything alright in there?”

“Yes! Just a stubborn zipper again!” You laughed breathily to cover up your anxious flitting about while Papa stayed silent. 

“Alright, well, hurry it along, the ghouls are going to start eating each other out there if not.” They sounded less than pleased before cutting back out of the tiny room.

“Heard.” You replied curtly, not in the mood to have your moment ruined any further. 

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a dickhead,” your breath caught in your chest. Did he regret the kiss? “You have a little, er, smudge.” He motioned towards his lip.

You looked in the mirror beside you, hells below, he was right! You had black makeup from him smudged all over. 

He giggled his way back out, leaving you furiously rubbing at your lips and chin, your face fully flushed with embarrassment.

By the next quick change, you two had a pattern working perfectly. 

First, change out of the previous costume.

Second, put the next one on.

Third, and most importantly, spend any and all remaining seconds kissing each other like giddy teenagers.

You both became a desperate mess of hands, lips, and teeth. You even picked up a few new tricks: one of which being that you could tie his tie exceedingly well while he had his tongue in your mouth. You got a little too handsy now, stroking him through his pants as his hands gripped your rear. Feeling him growing with every motion was spurring you on, making you almost delirious with need.

“I’ll see you shortly.” He exhaled heavily, palming the front of his pants to adjust the placement of his dick. It was adorable how he was going to go out there like this, pantomiming that nothing had transpired, but you were fine with it, it was a little game.

“I’ll be waiting.” You called after him.

The longest break in the show was up next, and you already knew what to do. You were on your knees before he finished the song, his cue to move backstage for his change came and when he saw you he stopped in his tracks. 

“Don’t just stand there now, come over here and let me taste you.” Your bold words seemed to almost miss him, as he looked to be in a trance. He soon snapped out of it, taking a few steps to you and closing the distance. 

He stroked your hair, “You don’t have to do this right now, we can wait until later.”

His suggestion was tempting but unnecessary, you were committed to this. “I gave you a problem, and I want to take care of it for you. May I?” You pleaded up at him and his mouth dropped open.

“Yes. Fuck, please.”

With his explicit permission you went to work. It was well-known that Papa went commando on stage. However, this didn’t make it any less difficult for you to peel the “rat-eaten” black pants off of him. His sweat combined with the stiff, unforgiving tightness of the trousers and made it quite difficult for you to wrench him from the tight fabric. 

You wrestled the fabric down, exposing the very tops of his delicious thighs and in the middle, his magnificent thick cock sprung forth. Your mouth watered at the sight, so long and hard, how you wanted - no - needed to taste him. 

You wet your lips, looking up at him and not wanting to waste any more time as you pressed your tongue lightly to the underside of the hot tip. You flicked your tongue to the very end, where a bead of pre-cum was leaking out. 

Tasting him stirred something within you that made your insides clench. You wanted so much more than just to give him a sloppy blow job in the stage right closet at a ritual. But this would have to do for now. 

The salt of his sweat on your tongue was like a drug to you, and you needed more of everything. You impaled yourself on his length, gagging obscenely as you took as much of him into your mouth as possible. 

He groaned as you sucked at him, your tongue working to massage the underside of his shaft. You bobbed your head back and forth, one of your hands coming up to follow the motion of your mouth. It slid back and forth easily, the copious amount of spit already coating his length made for ideal lubrication.

Your other hand steadied yourself by gripping his exposed thigh, squeezing the flesh lightly, your fingertips satisfied just by touching his bare skin. You felt your arousal again, a pulse at the apex of your legs thrumming to almost fierce levels. Fuck, you wanted to put one of your hands between your own legs, but right now, your focus was solely on Papas pleasure.

He exhaled with a ‘ha’ sound, another groan making its way out through his clenched teeth. You felt one of his hands curl itself through your hair, pulling slightly to get your attention.

You looked up at him, and you were so turned on by the sight. Papa’s face was contorted in lustful indulgence. Some of his hair plastered itself to his forehead while other pieces stuck out at the sides as though he had been running his fingers through the salt-and-pepper strands. You made a quick mental note to fix it before he went back on stage. 

He pulled again at your hair and you removed your mouth from him, although your hand continued to work, stroking up and down his entire shaft. 

“Fuck my mouth Papa.” The words in your desire-filled heart spoke themselves aloud.

He growled, “Open up.”

You did exactly as you were told, moving both hands now to his thighs as he readjusted his grip on your hair. The music was changing, the instrumental interlude was almost to an end. Your mouth opened wide and you got your wish.

Papa fucked your mouth as though the success of the ritual depended on it. He wasted no time pressing his impressive length into your mouth and throat as far as it could go. Your gag reflex was being obliterated with each thrust of his hips forwards. After several quick, punishing blows to your throat it finally relaxed. You were at his mercy, and mercy, he was not pulling any punches.

Tears stained your cheeks, an ache started in your jaw, and your facial muscles tensed. The pressure, the pain was all made worth it as you looked up through bleary eyes to see Papa. His chest shuddered with every breath. His heterochromatic eyes watched you and his eyebrows were knit together. Papa's mouth hung open and dirty remarks, expletives, and guttural sounds of pleasure sputtered out. 

“Look at you, so wanton, so needy for my cock that you’ll kneel before me.”

You hummed in response, pressing your thighs together to try to gain even a slight bit of friction between them. 

It could have been the vibrations from your hum that put him over the edge, or maybe it was that he knew he had to get back out there, but his grasp in your hair tightened. Your scalp flashed in white hot pain as he cried out in one final thrust and painted the back of your throat with hot, heavy spurts of his release.

You swallowed greedily, not wanting a single drop to be missed as he pulled out of your mouth and moved to quickly pull his pants back up. He knelt down unexpectedly, and you met his gaze. His gloved hands wiped the tears from your cheeks as he leaned forward and kissed you on your swollen lips.

“Grazie, mi amore, I shall return the favor after the show.”

With one final caress to your cheek with his hand, he stood, pulling his bright, glittering jacket on one arm at a time. You watched, rosy-cheeked and soft-eyed as he straightened his clothes, checking himself out in the mirror. Of course he looked over everything except his hair.

You snapped out of your lightheaded stupor with a second of time to remain, shooting to your feet, “Wait!”

He turned towards you and you wiped your damp hands on your thigh-highs before reaching up to smooth his soft hair back into place. You covered his eyes and with your dominant hand snagged the miniature can of hairspray out of your stash of supplies to fix everything back in place. 

You’d be damned if you didn’t do your job. 

Papa grabbed you by your collar once you dropped your hands, kissing you once more before heading back on stage. The scent of hairspray, his cologne, and sweat created a haze for you to dream in, thinking of the implications of his words from earlier.

You couldn’t wait for him to return the favor.

[voidcat]

— what the cat dragged in

characters: papa emeritus iii/you, cardinal copia, nameless ghouls, sister imperator

wc & genre/notes: 8.1k – strangers to friends/lovers, fluff, suggestive content (minor discussion of kinks and terzo being terzo during mummy dust. That part starts with “I’d say you’re deflecting,” and ends with the divider.) neighbors au, reader has a cat… I’ll b honest idk what else to say

a/n: this is My blog and I get to choose how cringe I want to be. Yes I said I’d not write for ghost and did it anyways after one (1) bad day. Yes this file is titled “hatehatehatemyself” on Google drive. The part after the burgundy divider is an optional ending. You can read the entire thing as platonic or slowly growing into something romantic. have fun x

Head turned left and right, looking around, no sign around.

The neighborhood is rather quiet today, the sun up and everyone out, at work or else. Rustling of grass with each breeze reaches your ears, and each time you whip your head toward the direction with hope.

In a breath, you cross the road and walk and walk and walk. It’s a long one, not unbearably so but still a little unnerving. You don’t recall many people going this way after all.

Now standing before the grand door, the little mailbox a few meters away awfully standing out, you raise your fist and knock.

And wait.

And waiting you do for almost a minute, if it weren’t for the noises you hear, a clutter of something, a shatter there and finally footsteps.

The door swings open– though it looks too heavy to be opened just like that and the man stands tall before you, forearm resting against the frame, leaning his entire weight to it, eyes barely open and you don’t need to see the barely filled bottle he holds to tell he is drunk.

The scent of alcohol reeks off him just enough.

Your nose scrunches up at the smell.

Squinting his eyes at the sudden intrusion of light coming from the sun, he doesn’t acknowledge you right away.

You doubt he has noticed you.

Isn’t it a bit too early to be drinking like this already? He looks trashed, to say the least.

Then he seems to notice you, though he makes so little movement to fix his posture, the belt tied around his waist barely doing its job to hold the robe together.

Decent on the eyes, you’d have thought for the guy, if it wasn’t for the weird face paint.

Getting too far and a little too early on the halloween spirit?

“Ah…” you clear your throat and try again. “So you see, my cat was lost and–”

“Oh perfect! That’s just lovely now.” he cuts you off, quite loud too. Head thrown back, he holds a sneer. “And what, little one ? Decided to come here and accuse us?” bottle dropped on the floor, rolls off to the side, hitting to an end by the door frame. 

With both hands free, he throws them up in mockery, mimicking what you can only think to be a kid’s voice: “‘ Oh no the big bad mean satanists stole my cat and used it for their sick rituals. ’” hands dropped to his sides immediately as he is done with his imitation, he glares down at you: “Well guess what? Buzz off! As if I don’t have enough bullshit to deal with right now. Go find a more creative way to get in sherlock.” 

So they were satanists after all…

Good to know you suppose, not that you care in all honesty. The whole church-like air of the building only gets more confusing for you though.

Before he can close the door to your face, you place your palm against it to stop him. “Hey!” 

The force behind the door comes to a pause, probably didn’t expect you to fight back.

“Listen, Mr. Halloween or whatever poor Jack Skellington look you were going for.” you begin speaking, ignoring the way his face morphs into pure confusion. “How about you listen to people before barking assumptions at them?”

A moment of breath, the resistance behind the door ends completely and he opens it full again, waiting for you to continue but doesn’t seem all too happy.

“My cat likes to go outdoors and one of my neighbors said to me once that he often visits this place. So can I please come in?”

Seeing it written clear that you won’t be leaving any time soon, the guy sighs and steps aside. “Don’t touch anything and don’t leave my sight.”

Footsteps echoing in the hallways, you ‘pspsps’ here and there in hopes of your cat turning around but to no avail.

It’s only when passing a door that the guy pauses and curses to himself, you can hear the hints of an accent.

Turning to face him, he takes in your raised brow as a question.

“Copia has rats– pet rats. Your cat better be a vegan because I will not deal with his whole…” he gestures with his hand at nothing, “mourning or Sister Imperator’s reprimanding if a single one of them is missing.”

“Mr. Whiskers is a well behaving, domesticated cat with manners, thank you very much.” you say and turn your head with a huff.

Copia? Imperator? You have no idea who these guys are but you’re sure you can handle a couple of …dorky satanists, if the rest of them are just like this man baby at least.

You can always leave town before night too, if it comes down to it.

Only few steps away and the man watches as you disappear, yelling after you about ‘what did he say’ and all that bullshit but you couldn’t care any less because there he is, your precious baby!

All pulled up into a cozy little furry ball by the corner under a window, in what appears to be someone’s bedroom.

Pretty messy too.

The man seems to catch sight of you and say something he thinks is amusing, or sleek, from the tone he uses, though you pay no attention to his words or how they suddenly run dry. (‘ well if your eye on me the whole time, you didn’t need to make up an excuse about a lost c –’)

Picking up your cat despite his protests, you turn and thank him with a nod. His words register in your mind with a small delay. 

“Maybe consider tidying up your room, what are you, twelve?” and with that, you exit his warzone of a room and walk back the path you took, with Mr. Whiskers purring in your arms the entire walk home.

The second time your cat goes missing while you’re home, you know better.

Instead of wasting hours searching around, you hike up all the way to that dreaded place and knock on the door with force and impatience.

It is a woman who answers instead.

A woman who does not seem to be the slightest bit impressed.

Staring at her bored face, you take notice of her clothes you can deem as formal for the place, the sound of fabric brushing as she crosses her arms, you snap out of it, trying to formulate the words regarding your cat and and all.

Whatever thought seems to pass her mind, you conclude that she doesnt care and watch as she leaves the door open, walking back inside. So you hurriedly follow.

“Sleek, black hair you said?” she asks, still walking ahead as you nod– shit, satanist or not, she can’t have an eye at the back of her head now; letting out a hum of affirmation you fasten your steps and try to walk by her side.

Steps come to a halt before a closed door, she knocks firmly, once.

Upon receiving no answer whatsoever, she rolls her eyes and opens the door.

They must have quite the savings you think, to have a place with soundproof walls and doors. The unmistakable sound of skin slapping against skin, breathy moans and all, you wonder to yourself, couldn’t your cat have picked somewhere …normal to take his afternoon naps.

Paying the scene before her eyes no mind, the woman steps in– is that who the man referred to as Sister Imperator?, and you catch her words about grabbing the darn cat now and continuing his pity party later.

The sounds of sex stop and you can hear someone walking around all the while mumbling something.

Before you can thank the woman however, she turns and walks away.

Less than a minute later the same man from before peeks out his head through the door.

Wearing a different robe this time and doing a poor job of holding your cat, though Mr. Whiskers doesn’t seem to mind, the traitor, he watches as you take the cat from his arms.

As you turn to leave and call it a day, maybe open a bottle of wine and see where the night takes you, a ‘hey!’ catches up to you from behind.

Leaning against the door frame like he did the first time, he waits for you to face him.

“Just let me know next time your cat comes over. I doubt neither you nor Sister would like to become frequent acquaintances.” 

You eye him with a suspicious look. Sure the woman does seem like if she sees you 3 times a week or more for your cat, she might sacrifice you and Mr. Whiskers to Lucifer with her bare hands but hey, you cannot control who answers the door now.

As if sensing your train of thought, or, a part of it, he lets out a sigh, “My windows are pretty wide. Pretend they’re doors or something.”

“...right.” Sounds more and more reassuring with each word for sure, great , thank you Mr. Whiskers.

Then an after thought seems to follow as a whine can be heard from inside his room, “ Just – maybe let me know ahead before you come through the window, yeah ?”

“And I should do that, how?” you ask, wishing the whole encounter to be over “I don’t want you charging me if a stone happens to find its way in.”

From how he mumbles the words ‘charging’ and ‘stone’ confused, it seems to be taking him a while to register your words.

The implication of your words seem to dawn in as his face goes down “Last I checked, cellphones exist.” he states, not sounding too happy about the possible danger his precious windows may face. 

“And how should I know this isn’t some weird excuse to get my number?” you sound skeptical, on the edge, probably finger hovering over that dial button to the police if it wasn’t for the cat in your arms.

At your words though, he chuckles. “I do have a girl in my bed right now, you know?”

“And my question remains unchanged.” staring at him with a dead serious expression, you watch as his amused face falls, his eyes rolling and he shoves a hand down one of his pockets, taking out a pen.

Expectant eyes on you– wait, what is up with his eyes? , he pushes off the cap, shaking his left arm so the robe’s arm can slide off, revealing his skin, waiting. Waiting for you.

“You better not send me any weird crap or call-” you state then say out your phone number.

Well, worst comes to worst, you know a good lawyer.

Third time's the charm is how the saying goes. You have your doubts but perhaps there is truth to it as the man’s ridiculous window idea works.

It takes no time to figure out Mr. Whiskers spends his afternoons there because the rays of sunlight hit just right, and right next to where he sleeps is a comfortable armchair with black and white hair decorating its surface a little.

Few steps ahead of his windows, the view of a wonderful garden has attracted your attention but you know better than to ask, or enter without permission. The amount of times you’ve dropped by increases at record speed, yet the air between you both is still tight.

He lets out a warm laugh when he gets a good look at him once, but when you ask, you get no reply. Surely this cannot be the first tuxedo cat he has ever seen in his life.

One silence after another, he must've sensed how tense and awkward it feels too, as a little after he tries to make conversation and apologize.

So they are a satanic organization, that’s fine.

You’ve always wondered as a kid about the gatherings you’d see within a distance but never bothered to check for yourself.

A rock band to spread their word and message however, now that is odd. You’re starting to think their anti church might be the most normal thing to them.

Yet you remain your silence and let him speak, listen, and try to make as much sense of them as you can because god knows you won’t be leaving this place any time soon.

He says he is– was the frontman of the band, and their beloved antipope , but was dethroned , or so he claims, few days prior to your arrival.

You can understand frustration over something you have dedicated your time and effort into, and for you to be pulled off it without a logical explanation. That explains drinking until the brain shuts down despite that scent of alcohol still stings your senses.

Nodding to his words, you take his apology and leave with Mr. Whiskers that day. He asks if you’d like to see the garden the next time your legs are dangling off the windowsill.

You accept in a heartbeat.

With the weather warming up and all, your cat seems to enjoy the garden as much as you do.

Trees and flowers of all kinds tended to with care and love, you can tell. Each arranged with care, the entire place paints a beautiful picture before your eyes, and endless too.

Same as the window, this becomes a habit too. To stroll in the garden and sit on one of the stone benches, talking or staying like this in silence.

He seems fond of Mr Whiskers for reasons unknown to you, until he pulls out a photograph of someone in what you make out to be a tuxedo of sorts, on a stage no less.

The photograph is of small scale, you cannot make out much of the details, so he takes it upon himself to explain that it is indeed him in the photo and the looks of your cat caught him by surprise because of his looks.

Without waiting for a reaction, he offers to show you the outfit he wore back then, though he sounds a little melancholic about the whole thing still.

Sure , you agree, but keep it to yourself that the regency shirt and black pants look just fine on him.

It blurs at one point you begin visiting even without Mr. Whisker’s presence in his room.

Bursting out into laughter, he looks almost offended at your reaction. “I’m sorry-” your giggles break through as you wipe off a tear, “what did you say it was again?” 

“Emeritus.” he says flatly.

“Emeritus.” you repeat, this time doing a better job at containing the giggling.

“Yes, Emeritus,” he says again and adds, “The third.” 

If your laughter before was loud, this is something beyond, enough to make him go deaf in comparison.

“Okay no, I’m not calling you-”  you bring your hands up to finger quote, “Emeritus The Third.” you say in a serious tone. “And I’m certainly not calling you ‘papa’ or some bullshit title.” you cut in before he can get a word out.

“We’re going to need a nickname, what about ‘em’?”

“Em.” his tone asking ‘are you for real?’, his turn to repeat now.

“Okay no, that’s just as bad, give me some time to th-” hand covering his face, he just shakes his head with a sigh. 

“Just call me Terzo , caro mio.”

Seeing as to no reply from you comes, he removes his hand and looks up. “It means ‘ the third ’ in Italian.”

“Oh,” you manage to say, though you do sound a little different now, perhaps you thought from his reactions you hurt him and now feel sorry about that? 

“Yeah, I can do that, Terzo.” speaking with more confidence now, testing the name on your tongue, you talk more to yourself and nod your head than to him– he finds watching you act like this, how you operate and think as you talk endearing.

You find yourself liking spending time with Terzo more than you’ve realized.

Work is work, adulting is the same and sometimes relationships with friends feel dull or far away.

To say the least, he is interesting. Usually something to catch you off guard or wondering, it is guaranteed your time with him is never one to fall victim to boredom.

So he speaks of his life, of things he has done on the road and whatnot, even going as far to recreate when he tried to kick off a beach ball only to fall, basking in the waves of your laughter, even complaining to him by nighttime that your face hurts from laughing so much.

In return you feel you don’t have as exciting stories but he listens as if they’re the most wonderful things he has ever heard.

You deem them mundane and every time without a beat, he says only to you.

It comes down to, more like remembering, those scenes from when you were a kid.

He is awfully quiet that day, when you speak of seeing figures in black walking in tow, a kid or two that seemed to be your peers but how their estate in the eyes of some were off limits, and it was always at an odd time for you to be walking up there and talk with the kids.

A shame, the two of you could’ve met much earlier, yet he doesn’t voice it and you do not realize it.

Of all the things he has experienced recently, entering his room, to a bed unmade, finding you wrapped in the covers and sound asleep, would score high on Terzo’s list of things he wouldn’t expect– that is, if his brain could even muster up such a scene.

He doesn't need to, though, as it becomes real before his eyes and he makes way for the loveseat that night.

He doesn’t pry about it and all you say under your breath is that you felt lonely.

‘What about Wh-’ before he can ask, you open the covers partly to reveal that Mr. Whiskers is indeed with you, in his bed.

He just hopes the cat won’t switch his usual spot for his bed when he comes next time.

The nightly visits from you start to occur more, by the third time he knows it’ll become another constant, though not as frequent.

You do appear upset that he has to sleep on the couch, yet he waves his hand dismissively, that he doesn’t mind– he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or cross any unnamed boundaries. Which is a little outside the usual for him, he is known for being bold, for holding and kissing hands and doing much more when he can even smell from a kilometer away the slightest of interest the other party has in him.

The next time it repeats, he is startled by a sudden noise as he makes for the couch as always. Turning on his heel only to see you patting the spot next to you in his bed.

Sure, it is a spacious bed, more than enough space for the both of you, and Mr. Whiskers, yet he still feels tense about the whole situation.

What if he wraps an arm around you or something in his sleep and you wake up angry, that he jumped into conclusions, that this wasn’t what you wanted at all and that you’ll never visit again and file a restra–

“You think too much.” 

You draw him out of his pocket sized crisis with few words and a flock on his forehead. “Keep doing that and you’ll end up with wrinkles in no time.”

What else can he do but chuckle at that and sink into sleep, safe and sound?

Wine is a skillful loosener, as the two of you rediscover together.

On days you stick around for longer, he makes his offer– though you refuse it as much as you can.

Despite dropping by unannounced after a while, you haven't walked into any intimate moments. And against your initial claim, your phone does get bombarded, usually photos of Mr. Whiskers when Terzo catches a glimpse of him, or when he thinks he is being adorable.

The latter is worse, because Terzo always finds him adorable once he warms up to the cat. The way he acts through text makes you picture him lying on the floor, hands supporting his chin, legs behind him dangling in the air, watching the unknowing cat as he sleeps or does the most mundane cat thing anyone can think of.

Neither of you are aware just how fascinating mundane is to him.

You can sense his pout from meters away.

“Okay, I’ll bite.” you put down the stacked papers. “What is it?”

Crossing his arms, he turns away partially, grumbling under his breath, “I don’t know what youre talking about.”

Getting closer to Terzo means many things, witnessing the absolute manchild that resides in him included.

Picking up your phone to turn the volume down, your eyes find his figure again– either he resembles Mr. Whiskers more than you gave them credit for or your time spent with him making you delusional. “Out with it already,” his form shrinks only further, “or no more visits from me or Mr. Whiskers.”

Now that , gets his attention.

Eyes focused somewhere near your face intentionally, he almost appears reluctant to say the words.

“How come you never listen to any of my songs?”

It takes you few seconds longer to register his words.

Before you can answer, he begins rambling, so rushed and in a whisper, all you can hear is few words in italian, which you’re sure are curses slipping his tongue and terms of endearment.

“I just… forgot?” you offer with a shrug.

Okay, maybe not the best response as this gets him to throw his arms into air, “ mio satana , you are unbelievable.” a finger pokes into your side, you haven't even realized he already crossed the distance between you both.

So he gets jealous when you listen to other musicians, huh , you save the information for future use.

As you begin laughing, he chuckles, muttering under his breath. “I guess, I’ll  have to bring a ritual to your feet.”

It goes unknown to you that Terzo semi-regularly orders cat food for Mr. Whiskers, not that the cat ever seemed to be hungry when he was there, but hey, cannot hurt to try. If the cat only decides to visit him, with you in cue, more often, now there is no harm in that.

Another thing unbeknownst to you, is that, despite the distance between their estate and your house, Terzo can spot your lights without much effort.

If he were to dramatize the entire thing between you both and more, he’d refer to it as a beacon of light. But he doesn’t need to, because there is nothing more to what it is between the two of you, even if unnamed, even when he cannot help wondering “ what if …”, wondering if he is misinterpreting things.

So when he doesn’t see the lights turn on by the night time one evening, he doesn’t care, maybe the power went out, maybe you just want to try something different for a change. He certainly doesn’t care in the morning when he sees a second figure come out of the door, or when you drop by later that evening, a throbbing headache and ‘ long day at work’ you just murmur as you fall asleep on his shoulder.

You accept the wine when you're taking another stroll in the gardens.

With the weather beginning to cool down, you welcome its warmth to your very bones.

Booze loosens your tongue first, and soon your senses, your train of thought. Whether it’s a good thing or not that you’re not the only victim… you don't know.

“Was it worth it at least?” he muses as you’re seated on the same bench, glasses sat on the ground.

You twist your face, trying to recall, “Once I tuned his voice out, yeah I guess?” he snorts at your words, “Isn’t this the usual case?” 

“Nah,” you drag the word as you reach for your glass, “He could also suck in bed. So the entire night wasn’t a waste I suppose. Never going back to that place though, I’m picky for a reason.”

You say the words more to yourself as a mantra than anything, Terzo watching you with a giggle hanging on his lips. 

“Bad drinks as well?”

“It’d be charity to call them as such, ugh,” with a sigh, you drink down the remaining half of your wine, tipping the empty glass to his direction.

Taking your glass, he switches it with his and you take no time to bring it back to your lips.

“But this?” you raise the glass, “now that is a quality product.”

With another chuckle, he reaches for the bottle and fills the empty glass in his hand.

The topic of your recent and unfortunate endeavors morph into complaining about work, people in the streets, weird posts on the internet and whatnot.

“Okay, okay,” you try to speak inbetween laughter, “so what about weird preferences when it comes to sex?”

He just gives you a teasing smirk as you place your finger on his lips as a means to shush him “we already know weird shit and food combinations the other likes, consider this a slight change of topic.”

“I’d say you’re deflecting, but alright, I’ll buy.” he shrugs, throwing his head back to drink from the bottle– the glasses cast aside an hour or so ago.

“Any kink you can think of, I’m most likely into already, so just ask me yourself.”

You bring a finger to your chin, contemplating what to say for a moment, “Socks stay on or?..” you let your voice trail off, gazing at him from the side with a smile.

Bringing a hand over his heart and another against his forehead, he faces you fully and lets out a loud gasp. “Caro mio! You wound me. I might be the antipope but I am not a lunatic!”

He opens one eye to seize your reaction, and when your gazes meet, both of you burst into laughter.

“But the face paint stays on, no?” you gesture to your face once you stop clutching your stomach.

“Everyone has a preference, tesero.” he shrugs.

Considering his position and the closest people he can find to fuck, it does add up, you suppose.

“Now enough about me, what about you ?” He leans in to you, flashing his teeth. Not letting him get to him, you snatch the bottle from his hand. 

“What about me, indeed huh? Just your basic, vanilla bullshit.” you close your eyes as you gulp down the wine.

Your comment only ignites him further, with another chuckle, he scoots closer, “You? Vanilla? I’d beg to differ,” and again, with the poking to your sides, he pleads “Don’t keep your papa waiting now.” “Okay first of all–” 

You snap your head to him, only to be nose to nose, “ Not the ‘p’ word, we went over that ages ago, not calling you that.”

“Only because you’re being such a tease,” he sing-songs, his head thrown back.

 “You are such a child,” you mumble as you place the bottle between your legs, hands gripping its neck.

“Biting, I suppose.” You can hear him open an eye and look your way, “Nothing extreme as I said, but people aren’t exactly dying to be covered in red and purple, you know?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” he answers, “their loss.”

You can sense he wants to pry further but keeps himself, and hell , the wine is good, there is another bottle waiting by his foot, and compared to the amount of black mail-level footage of him you've got, this feels like nothing.

“Taking risks.” you say in a whisper, partially hoping he doesn’t hear.

“Now, this falls vague, bella.” he says. “Risks of conceiving, catching STDS–” he begins counting with a finger,

“ No ! I said risks , not being an idiot.” You cut in, a hand covering your face.

You know he is waiting with that smug smirk, “risks of getting caught, like, dunno , semi public spaces and the likes?” you ask more than speak, meeting his gaze as you finish speaking.

“So that’s where the biting comes,” he speaks in a knowing tone, “leaving telltale marks blooming everywhere?” he muses as his hand begins to move, finger grazing against your skin.

“Like this?” he asks, hand going up and drawing patterns on your thigh, slowly going up, his eyes gauging your expression. 

“...yeah” you say in a breath, letting his hand reach the inner side of your thigh. A finger flicks against the bottle, drawing out a trembling note, making your eyes flash though all your times here, you never saw anyone else in the gardens.

The bottle has long gone warm but his hand feels cold against your leg, you’re aware of his eyes locked on your face yet make no haste to draw yours away from the plants up ahead.

His hand begins to travel upwards, making way to fiddle with the hem, going under and his skin meeting yours.

Before he can do anything further however, you both jolt with the sudden noise coming from behind, between the windows.

“Cazzo!” he mutters and gets up, making way to enter his room through the windows.

While waiting for him, you go for the other bottle, pouring yourself some more wine, at least with a glass, you can keep count.

Pausing to listen around, you hear the commotion has died down.

Picking up the other glass and hoisting the empty bottle under your arm, you make way for the stained glass windows you’ve grown familiar with over the course of time.

Terzo doesn't seem to pay much mind to the interruption though, the conversation picks up from where it left, now talking in a more general sense.

“You give off vibes of someone who’d make a sex playlist,” you begin as he listens with a nod, “ and add your songs to it.”

“As I said gioia, everyone has their preferences.” he reaches to take the bottle from you, not expecting your arm to draw back, “yet I cannot help but be upset,” he sheds a nonexistent tear, “that you think my thrust game is so weak.”

Seeing as you freeze at his words, he takes a step to you, grabbing the bottle from your hand with a smile and places it down, not stepping back afterwards. “If you want a demonstration though, I am always happy to help.” 

As if your silence was anything to go by, now it is deafening, the warmth and flush of your skin; you’re unsure if the cause is alcohol or him .

“And I did promise a demonstration of my songs to you before, didn’t I?” he says as he takes another step your way.

“So you see, we got this fan favorite song, Mummy Dust,” he speaks while pretending to be interested in the ceiling, gesturing with a hand in the air, “but not because of the lyrics.” he remarks with a smug expression, redirecting his gaze to you as he takes another step, barely any space left separating the two of you.

You’re unsure what to say or do, when left alone in a room with a bunch of people wearing identical masks.

You think, Terzo must’ve pulled a rope here and there, or acted in secrecy considering his sudden drop of position in the band, to have gotten into this studio– and bringing you no less.

The people he referred to as Nameless Ghouls stare at you, and you back at them. You can imagine the confusion they must be going through.

Then the man of the hour reappears with a clap of hands, dressed up in an outfit resembling a suit, and his previous remark at Mr. Whiskers suddenly comes back to you, finally making sense.

A concert– or a ritual, as he put it, he promised and one he delivers.

A ghoul begins playing his guitar in sync with the drums, as two of them walk to stand at their both sides and with a sudden stomp of foot, they all play in, in a fashion you can describe as ‘ knocking the wind out of your lungs .’

Only when Terzo’s singing, and soon the instruments coming to a stop that you realize you've been holding your breath the whole time. And quickly find out you may as well die due to lack of oxygen by the time the day comes to an end if they only keep up this momentum.

One song after another, they captivate you gradually. Be it the way the ghouls play or the way Terzo moves as he sings, radiating with energy. Walking around and messing up with one another, bothering each other at times– it all creates the illusion of a found family.

Briefly moving his hand, the ghouls pick acoustic guitars once another song comes to an end.

After each song he tells its name and some information– or funny memories he finds important you know.

With a signal of his hand, the ghouls switch to acoustic guitars and Terzo begins humming: “a one, a two, three, and four.“ 

With a move of his hand, they all enter the song.

One hand in a fist, resting against his hip and the other in front of him, he sways his hips softly as he sings.

It doesn’t miss your attention how some of his moves arent as innocent or random as they seem– when he brings his other hand to join the stray one, hoisting them up in the air as if holding something, or how after he holds the microphone with one hand and violates the poor stand with his fingers. Hands thrown into the air and shaking in the air as a ta-da once in a while, he takes a step back to point at one of the ghouls’ playing.

The song comes to an end and you think you’ve done good so far– then he decides to announce that the song is called Jigolo Har Meggido and you burst into laughter, leaving the men in the room utterly confused.

It takes several minutes for you to gather yourself, wipe away the tears all the while ignoring Terzo hovering over you with concern, unsure whether to approach you or leave you be in your violent laughter.

“I’m sorry-” your words die in your throat as another wave of laughter takes over again, “it’s just-” hand clutching over your stomach, you do your best to look up, “you do re-”, meeting his face only makes you laugh again.

A tap on your shoulder distracts you a little. Taking the water bottle one of the ghouls have brought to you, in your frenzy you didn’t even realize him leaving, you take a few sips to calm your nerves.

“I know you’re flirty and all, but witnessing you calling yourself a manwhore caught me off guard.” 

Definitely not something worth laughing to that extent over, Terzo doesn’t say a word and instead flashes you a toothy grin.

“You’d be surprised to hear it was his brother who wrote this song.” you hear someone say, the same ghoul from before.

“Ah!” Terzo waves a hand dismissively in the air, “enough talk of that geezer. Now , what do you say to a grammy winning original?” 

The ghouls slowly begin as Terzo walks back, their eyes on him and his hands, watching every move and tilt, following his guidance. Compared to the other songs they’ve played so far, this one comes off much softer, gentler, making you wonder what will come next.

Raising both hands in the air as if in praise, the ghouls all stop and silence takes over, waiting, and with his signal, they enter the song, picking up stronger than where they left off.

The melody matches the lyrics somewhat, the impression of a thunder, it builds up and carries smoothly.

He begins singing what you assume to be the second verse, drawing closer to you at a steady pace. His voice becomes the only thing you hear as the instruments falter and die out, quietening one by one. The microphone now held in his left, his right hand reaches out to hold yours, bringing it up near his face as he keeps singing: “ Can't you see that you're lost without me?”

And with it, they all reenter the song with a bang, your hand still in his, Terzo kisses the back of it in between lyrics and steps back to his initial position.

Drumming his fingers in the air, swaying them at the direction of either of the ghouls, they all circle around the keyboard playing ghoul as the song shifts into an instrumental part.

Eyes never leaving theirs, especially not his, not when he makes sure to lock his with you, you watch the entire performance almost in a trance, mind going blank.

When the song ends, you can see his expectant looks on you, already beaming with whatever compliment he’s positive you’ll be giving him.

So you decide to pick the teasing route. 

“It was nice.” he stares at you, his face clearly showing he wasn’t waiting to hear that. “Nice?..”

Humming in affirmation, you nod your head. “Yeah, nice.” tilting your head to the side, you speak up, “ Say , this helps you get some?” 

The man stands there, blinking at you for what feels like eternity.

The ghouls in a similar stance, though you’re sure you’ve heard one of them snort, and another snicker.

The eternity ends with a shake of his head and a faint smile on his face. “Yes, sorella , it helps me …get plenty actually.” he uses your phrase.

“Well,” he clicks his tongue as he places the microphone back to its place, “if it’s a …meretricious song you desire, how about I give you,” his pace of speaking slows down, as if holding his breath, waiting for imaginary drum rolls: “Mummy Dust!” He drags the words in a low grumble, shaking his hands in the air once again.

From how he starts swaying and moving his hips, you immediately recognize the song.

As Terzo begins singing, the sound of a door opening and clicking close reach your ears and when you twist halfway in your seat, you see a man with pencil stache dressed up in black, his hat partially resembling a bat, same painted eyes and upper lip like Terzo yet lacking the rest of the face paint.

The man stills in place when he sees you, only gets his feet to move again when you pat the vacant spot near you.

Whispering greetings back and forth, you immediately remember his name.

“Ah you’re the Cardinal!” Your voice comes out a tad more excited than expected. The man on the other hand seems confused as to how you know him already.

“How are your rats? Happy, I hope. I am so sorry, I never got the chance to apologize to you or to them because of Mr. Whiskers.” The words leave your lips in a breath, leaving the man dumbfounded, repeating your cat’s name in confusion and unaware, 

“ah, I-, my most sincere apologies, who?..”

“Mr. Whiskers, my cat, didn't Terzo t- oh.” Unfortunately the mention of a cat before you can stop makes his eyes go wide, and you try your best to assure him that your cat didnt even set foot into his room, somewhat calming the anxious man down.

The music on the other hand, as well as the singing, gets louder and a tad more aggressive. 

Probably unhappy with how your attention was led somewhere other than him. So needy and grumpy, spoiled like a cat.

“Uh, we can save our discussing for after the song?” Cardinal suggests, to which you nod. “I'd hate to impose on this- uh, special performance his excellency was displaying for you.” He says, coughing on his words at the way Terzo moves.

“Its alright Cardinal. I was given a demonstration of this song already, I am not missing out on anything.”

Again, you must’ve said something wrong, because instead of relaxing, the Cardinal’s face tenses up and goes bright red.

“ Oh !” You wince, “poor choice of words on my behalf. That's not what I meant.” You try to offer an explanation with a sheepish smile, but to no avail. 

At least Terzo looks quite pleased with the interaction, as clear from the smug expression taking over his face.

The previous incident– goes unaddressed between the two of you but the air between doesnt waver.

Still, it must have triggered some sort of change, you conclude, as Terzo’s texting habits only evolve into a different stage.

Sure, it went for quite a while that the initial purpose of exchanging numbers was abandoned yet he still possessed control, a sense of self restraint, when texting you.

Definitely the absolute opposite of whatever it is going on as of now.

Maybe you’ve spoiled him too much, your brain reaches another conclusion as the lips on your skin snap that thought in the middle, pulling you back into reality.

You still don’t visit him as regular as to say daily, or even biweekly– so you hold onto the benefit of doubt that he has absolutely no way of knowing youre busy trying to have a nice night, focused on pleasure and the feeling of euphoria–

Another vibrating sound against your nightstand cuts into the air, your sceeen lightning up right after.

You ignore it only so far until you find yourself scrolling and typing up a reply, the light coming from the screen reflecting against you and the man you’ve forgotten about already.

As you smile at his newest text, hearing that stupid whining of his voice and the pout, someone next to you clears his throat, snapping you back.

“Anything I should know about?” He only asks and in all honesty , you cannot blame the guy. You’d have reaches into equally ugly assumptions, were this to happen to you.

But it didnt, and it isn’t right now, so its only a little too late that you put yourself in his shoes.

“Nope.” You say, walking up to your bookshelf and placing the phone screen down, “just a friend.”

The guy hums, sounding skeptical but doesn't pry.

You give him the benefit of the doubt but few too many repeats and you know it's intentional.

You did spoil him too much it seems.

Another afternoon by his side, you're sitting on the window sill, one leg tucked under yourself, he is busy on the other side of the room, who knows what he is preparing this time.

“Wine?” he turns on his heel, holding a glass and the bottle’s neck tilted slightly already. 

“None for me, thank you.” 

Eyebrows raised in curiosity, a scheming expression takes over. “Ooh? Any plans for tonight?” He inquires. You don’t need to know that he is dreading the confirmation that'll leave your lips. 

“I guess,” you shrug, turning to look outside the window, “promised Steve we’d spend the night together.”

Heavy silence spreads from your words and takes over the room. 

The teasing remarks signature to his natural charm never comes and you turn your head to see if he even heard you in the first place… or left the room before you spoke… or somehow passed out in silence as you spoke.

Your worries ease upon seeing him standing there, still, not even a muscle moved from his last position, unreadable eyes staring at you.

Only when you tilt your head towards, asking ‘what’s wrong?’ and only then he snaps out of whatever trance he was in, coughs and tried to laugh it off with a ‘ have fun’ , pouring himself a glass.

Unbelievable.

Discreetly taking a sip from his wine to distract himself doesn't do much to ease him and the now unimpressed look you're giving him makes even the wine taste bitter on his tongue. 

“Wh-“ “you are unbelievable.”

Okay, you don't just seem pissed, disappointed?, something definitely negative; you sound like it too.

“For wishing my friend a fun night?” And with a guy he has never heard you mention before– the word friend stings to say. “I’m sure Steve is a good gu-“ “ Again,” you dont let him finish, “you are unbelievable, absolutely childish and overall a great idiot.”

Okay now you're just being mean. A scowl makes its way to his face before he can even notice, making you shake your head in disbelief like a mother scolding her kids with a smile.

“If youre done with the insults cara,” he says and raises his glass, appearing pissed and upset as he downs the glass.

“Terzo, you met Steve.” His head snaps up at your words. “Steve?“ you repeat in question, “Steve Whiskers?” ‘ ring any bells? ’ He can hear you say in following–

The faint smile of yours slowly evolve in a giggle as you watch the gears turn in his head and finally connect the two and two together.

“The cat?!” His voice comes out louder than he meant to, suddenly straightening up and wiping invisible dust off his clothes, he clears his throat. 

“Excuse me for my sudden input of volume.” You reply with a smile, “Send my best regards to Mr. Whiskers.”

You see the ghouls around few more times you're in the perimeter, as well as the scary woman from before.

Sitting in the gardens with Terzo again one warm afternoon and she passes in the distance, her eye catching sight of you no doubt.

Jumping in your stead, you rush to where she is. Terzo watches as you speak with more animatic gestures, Sister remaining stoic as always. You bring a hand up to scratch your head in unease, then holding out a box of sorts. As you are about to turn, he sees your body beam , most likely at something Sister has said as she walks away.

You pattle back to where he waits, trying to contain a big smile and pulling out few cookies from behind in surprise. Just as he does with anything else you offer, he devours the cookies, making sure to express his gratitude and worship before and after.

You settle back next to him, laughing at the way he acts as he ignores the crumbs on his thighs, resting your head against his shoulder and relaxing.

Yet you never tell him what it was Sister Imperator has said to you that got you in high spirits; not then, not later.

When you wake up with the sunlight grazing your face from the wrong direction, your first instinct is to return to sleep.

Having falling asleep by Terzo's side a reasonable amount of times now, it feels just as comfortable as your room. Despite his chest not being as soft as your pillow, the comfort of his mattress easily beating yours makes up for the loss.

Just as a content smile makes its way to your lips and you, more than eager to return to sleep, the situation of now sinks in and you can feel the warmth drain from your entire body.

Sure, this is not the first time you've found yourself falling asleep here, even in his arms, limbs tangled up no less; but all those instances contain one huge difference from the predicament you find yourself in now and it is last night.

Maybe you should pretend to stay asleep until he is summoned for anything, but the chances of this are dangerously slim. The light coming from between the curtains doesn't burn into your eyes just yet so it must still be fairly early, maybe you can sneak out before he can return from the land of dreaming. But that'd would leave bigger problems for future you and frankly? future you has gotten sick of your 'dancing around with nothing acknowledged' bullshit.

You take a deep breath, and shut your eyes further– hey perhaps they'll glue themselves together from how tight your muscles are contracting and with your sudden admittance to the hospital and the emergencu of the entire situation, it'll all get forgo–

A sudden noise stops your entire thought process crashing. A trainwreck, yes that's what this is.

Sucking a sharp breathe in, you think 'now or never', suck it up once and face on with courage.

Creaking one eye open and meeting Terzo's eyes on yours, every single muscle in his face loosened and his expression what you can only describe as to be 'at peace', all your anxiety from bare seconds ago gets washed down the drain. 

And for the first time in a long while, you allow yourself to relax, fully, and bask in whatever the future– and he, along with it, will offer you.