Subtle Pride Flag Masterpost

missing him hours :(

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

Terzo and his s/o in a haunted house

It was absolutely hilarious.

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

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

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

And so you take him.

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

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

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

Somehow the scares keep hitting him harder every time.

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

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

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

Use that as you please.

restroom detour - cardinal copia x female!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes…please.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Te lo meriti! (CopiaxReader)

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

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

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

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

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

Keep reading

Okay-okay-okay. Just listen to me...

Papa Secondo continues to fuck you, even after his next orgasm. He himself has already lost count, of how many times he has finished, he has even stopped counting your orgasms. He's already in pain, he's already empty, but he keeps hammering into you, like a frenzy. He may have a heart attack from such overstimulation, but he does not stop. He can almost not even see you under him, there are only sharp, white sensations in front of his eyes, but he remembers, how beautiful you are. The blood is throbbing loudly into ears, but your sweet moans, dear cry, are also audible, albeit muffled. Secondo has nothing to cum with, but he continues to push into you. It hurts, but it's so good.

Everyone should know, that you are his. That the child in your womb is his. And if it doesn't work out today, you have a lot of time ahead.

You can't do this to me at 4AM. This is illegal.

Papa Secondo is getting absolutely target locked onto you after popping a pill. He thought to himself, 'Surely this thing Primo made isn't that big a deal?' and now he's got your hips in a vice and in a full nelson as he gives sloppy and uneven thrusts with his hips.

Fuck. Yeah. I can work this.

If It Lasts For More Than Two Hours (Secondo x Reader)

Secondo x Reader, Papa Emeritus II x Reader, Creampie, Marathon Sex.

It's another negative. The both of you had eagerly waited in the bathroom for the results, and the third time is the charm, but it still comes out negative. You were frustrated. You told him that you were starting to feel like a failure, as both his wife and his Prime Mover, but he quickly dashed away those insecurities with a hug and sweet kiss.

"Just mean we need to keep trying, mia tesoro."

He goes to Primo because, of course, he does. His father figure brother was his go-to when asking for a damned miracle.

Primo had hummed and smiled at him before fishing through his apocathary cabinet and pulling out a small bottle of hand pressed pills.

"Take one of these before. If this doesn't knock her up, I don't know what will."

And he waits for the mood. A full moon and lavish dinner, and he has you back into your shared room, leading butterfly kisses down your neck. He had subtly taken the pill during dinner, a sour thing that left fur on his tongue, and now... now he was starting to feel hot. There was a bubbly fizz in his loins, and his dick very quickly stood erect, he could feel his heart beating through his cock as the rush of blood had it painfully pressing against the seam of his jeans, yet with every shift it brought sparks of pleasure.

You didn't know about the medicine. Too lost in his soft touches as he guides you out of your clothes.

Then he gets on his knees, pulls at your labia with his thumbs, and gets to work. The man pops his jaw with how wide he opens his mouth to encompass your quim. Kissing your pussy until you were a wet and begging mess. Then he shoves in his tongue. He flexes it. Corkscrews it. Closes his mouth around your entrance and sucks, causes sounds so utterly obscene. His thumbs pry your lips apart so he can all the more devour you.

He wrangles your thighs around his head. Lips work sloppily over your pussy as he lashes his tongue relentlessly. He sets a speed record for how quickly he gets you to come. Then he licks it all up. Every. Last. Drop. Eating you out like tonguing the cream out of a snack cake. You squirmed, holding onto his ears as you moaned loud enough to reach across and wake the whole damn Abbey, shuddering like you had caught a cold and stood in Arctic winds.

Then he fucks you like your unbreakable. An obnoxiously hard and fast dicking, turns into a wrecked and painful hyperfixation that wraps his brain, switches off common sense and turns him into a baser animal with only the need to breed.

Several long strokes that reach deep inside of you as he makes you shake and shake, body wracking with sobs as you're overwhelmed and filled.

He groans, pressing his lips to the back of your neck and inhaling the finest scent of your soap and shampoo, your sweat, just simply you. Your back and his chest stick together in sweat, and your legs hoisted in the air under his arms as he wraps his fingers together just on the back of your head. It takes him everything not to dig his nails in. There's accidental nick here and there, and shallow scratches that'll take a week to heal.

Your trapped with no way to move other than to bow your head forward and accept his brutal assault on your pussy.

He's losing control of himself. Mindless of everything that isn't driving his cock as deep into your pussy as possible and as often as possible. His heels dug into the mattress as he slices his hips up and his balls clench. Fuck, he can pratically feel his blood in his dick, fat and swollen. It's nearly painful and only the rapid cuts of his dick pounding into your cunt is enough to satisfy it.

You're so obscenely wet that the room echoes with the sounds of squelching and smells of musk, sweat, and sloppy sex.

Secondo licks his mouth and needs to wipe the trail of drool going down his chin because he can't stop salivating. He's thirsty for more than just water. You next orgasm, your cunt strangling him, the prospect of seeing you pregnant. No matter how many times it takes. He'll do it. He can't wait to see you round and swollen with his kid, that was there is no room for arguement. You're his. If that ring around your finger wasn't proof enough. Those bitemarks on your neck. No one will be able to look at you without seeing his shadow looming over you. You're his. HIS.

He's fucking you hard enough to make your guts gurgle. Long since have you started to cry, loud sobs and tears track down your ruddy red cheeks. You can't shift, you can't move, any kind of fight would have him slipping out of you and you can't... You're so close. Bordering on a fourth and rapidly approaching the next little death.

He had shuddered as his second orgasm gums the inside of your cunt, splashing your walls and womb with his watery white seed.

His lashes fluttered from that first hit if relief. But the endorphins flared, turning his blood to the boiling point, and he didn't... He could keep going. He needed to keep going.

He can't help the growl, almost demonic, as your nails dig into his hot skin, and he works your thoughts on the lashes of another orgasm.

He's running a fever, has to be with how cold and clammy he suddenly feels, and the roller coaster sensation of his legs falling from underneath him. But he can't stop. Won't stop. He needs to make sure it takes even if it kills him. Needs you swollen with his children. Needs to coax another moan from you. Need to make you tremble again. He needs to pull one more orgasm.

He's gulping air like it's water in a desert. His sticky skin clings to yours as he rolls his hips hastily, pounding into you with delirium. Chasing after the high as though it's his last orgasm as a free man.

His dick twitches inside of you. He can't see it all sticky and swollen with the amount of orasgms he's given you. And the froth, the white bubbly cum he's stirred into you that filled over and coats your lips and the shaft of his cock like a white wedding band. In a half-minded haze he considers in investing in a mirror to see your wrecked and cock dumb visage.

Heat roars into an inferno in his stomach doused with kerosene. A hard knot behind his navel that corkscrews his intestines into a revolting kind of pleasure. It's horrid. A melting gooey warmth in his already hot and feverish insides that's hardly even felt.

He pounds into you with hiccuped shambles. What started strong has deteriorated into half thrusts but nevertheless desperate and manic. His dirty talk has dilapidated into hoarse groans and growls like a monster. His promises of fucking a baby into you has him now whispering for a mercy he denies himself. He doesn't have to keep going. He has to keep going. His balls long since draining dry and with every follow-up dry contraction of his dick nearly painful as he twists a knife into his loins, and still he keeps going.

"Nng. Hha-haa." He groans as though someone had just murdered him. Your walls tighten around him again, miniscule, the smallest flutter of your muscles that tells him he's managed to get you to come a fourth time.

Finally, finally he's given all he has. His cock sore and nerves frayed that with that with his last dry oragsm there is no point. He's spent all he has into you and has no more left to give you. He groans, stilling, and catching his breath.

He doesn't whimper when he pulls himself out, unplugging the dense load of creamy hot cum. He feels far away. His skin is oversensative, and as he finally releases you from his grip, his finger pops at how hard he had been holding you in place. He slides the pad of his fingers over your flesh, stunned and amazed and just how soft your skin feels.

He sets you aside and turns over to give you a scan and watch his copious and nearly ridiculous amount of seed as it oozes down your lips. Dribbling down your inner thigh. A gob of it fallen and stains the already wet sheets underneath you.

Secondo watches with heavy eyes. His breathing hard enough to split metal. His whole body hurts but his cock thankfully going soft.

He curls his arms around you in a hug and holds on as he tries to catch his breath and pants into the crown on your head. He traces his thumbs against your cheeks, catching your tears and sighing contently.

One of you should clean up and drink some water, but he can't move. He can barely ask you in your okay before falling asleep, and a loud snore vibrates from his throat.

You're not far behind him.

You can clean up and complain tomorrow, on top of taking another test.

Some behind the scenes of THAT moment

Have you tried offering Plushia support in coming out of the closet? - Jez from @emeritus-fuckers

Oh, he came out to me months ago, and as a fellow queer person, I couldn’t be prouder for him! But the problem is that he’s squatting in my bedroom closet and won’t leave, and whenever I’m about to sleep, he peeps out and stares at me for a couple of minutes before popping back inside.

- V

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

Ghestie are you okay - Jez

Terzo and consensual somnophilia headcanons

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

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

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

That's how big he is on consent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BECAUSE HE IS A RESPECTFUL KING.

One Of Us (Halloween Special)

Pairing: Nameless Ghouls x GN!Reader

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, poorly translated Italian

Summary: Halloween had fallen and you wanted to do something special. What’s better than dressing up for the occasion?

~~~~~~~~~~

You looked at yourself in the mirror as best as you could with your limited vision through the mask. Papa placed his hands on your shoulder as he stood behind you and gave you a smile. “Had I known better, you could pass as a Ghoul yourself, mio caro,” Papa said gently as he adjusted the steampunk helmet so it sat better and more comfortably.

You smiled and fidgeted with your fingers a bit. “I only have you to thank for this, Papa. Without you I wouldn’t have any of this,” You responded as you turned around and hugged him, the hug a little awkward at first because of the mask before you figured it out. Papa wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your helmet between your custom horns. “How could I say no to you?” He gave your back a few gentle pats as he let you hug him.

About a month ago you approached Papa while he was doing paperwork. The Ghouls were busy elsewhere within the Ministry and now was your only chance to bring up the brilliant idea for Halloween. When you arrived at his office you knocked the secret knock only you and him knew. “Come in, mio amato,” He answered. You opened the big doors and slid in, shutting them behind you and coming to sit in the chairs before Papa’s desk. “What can I do for you, il mio bambino?”

You heard Papa set his pen down against the desk as he shifted his attention to you. You looked into his eyes and cleared your throat. “Well, I wanted to ask something of you, Papa,” You started. He nodded for you to continue. “You see, Halloween is coming up in exactly a month and I’d like to celebrate it a bit,” You paused so Papa could speak if he wanted.

“What were you thinking, amato tesoro?” He asked. You smiled at the nickname and felt more confident about asking now. “I wanted to dress like the Ghouls for Halloween, Papa. Do you think that is possible at all?” Your leg started to bounce as a blush rose to your face. Papa smiled and nodded. “That is definitely possible. I’m going to make it possible. The Ghouls would fall for you even more, (Y/n),” He said before gathering details of what you had in mind and then setting up a time to get measurements for the outfit and helmet.

Two weeks later you were pulled back into Papa’s office to get measurements and you were nervous. Papa could sense it and didn’t leave your side as the designers got the measurements, talking to you the entire time and cracking jokes that made you laugh and made the designers huff. The designers eventually got the measurements they needed and estimated that the outfit and helmet would be done within at least six weeks. Papa counted in his head when that would be and nodded. “Thank you kindly, miei amici,” He said to the designers before they left, leaving you two alone. You stayed with Papa for a little while more as you discussed the final details you wanted for your helmet and outfit before leaving to continue your duties around the Ministry.

You had forgotten all about the costume (and it wasn’t intentional, those passing six weeks had been crazy for you) until Papa requested your presence in his office. When you stepped into his office and shut the door behind you he was standing behind his desk with a smile and his hands clasped together in front of him. “You called, Papa?” You asked as your head cocked to the side. "Sì, figlio mio,” Papa chirped as he reached under his desk and pulled a box up. He set it on his desk and patted the top of the box. “It’s here.”

A squeak escaped you as you came over to his desk eagerly, looking up at him. He opened the box and pulled out everything, laying them neatly on his desk as you watched with curious eyes. Once everything had been pulled out he moved the box aside. “There’s a bathroom behind me, go try it on! I can’t wait to see it, mio caro,” Papa ushered and you giggled, scooping up everything and rushing to try it on.

You had a decent amount of knowledge on how to dress up in the Ghouls’ concert outfits since you’ve watched and helped them before so when you came out after a few minutes Papa was shocked at first. When he saw you all dressed up, however, the shock melted away and was replaced with a warm, kind smile.

“Well, how do I look?” You had asked as you fidgeted with your fingers. Papa came over to you and you looked up to meet his eyes. “Just like a Ghoul,” He said. Beneath the mask, you smiled and you knew Papa couldn’t see it because of the balaclava so you pulled it down to show him your toothy smile. “The Ghouls are going to love it.”

And now, as you hugged Papa you let the memory fade into the dark once more to focus on the present. Papa pulled back from the hug and you did too. “Go on, go show your Ghouls. I would like to hear the details once everything is over,” Papa told you before patting your back once more. “Yes, Papa!” You chirped before leaving to go to the Ghoul’s den.

You made it to the Ghoul’s den quickly and slipped inside through the big doors, pulling them shut behind you and feeling something brush against your hand as you closed them. You grabbed whatever it was and pulled it in front of you as a stupid grin snuck onto your face. It was a tail. You could only assume Papa snuck in the tiny detail and you silently thanked him for it, personally thinking it was a nice touch.

Letting go of the tail you made your way down the hall and to the common room, peeking in and seeing your five Ghouls all sitting on the couch with their eyes glued to the TV screen with masks off and in comfy clothes. You pushed out any intrusive thoughts that might’ve been there along with fear and worry and readied yourself. You came into the room with your hands behind your back and posture straight with your head held a bit higher than normal. “Aww, how cute is it to see all five of you here in this one space? You didn’t even notice my entrance, did you?”

The moment those words left your mouth all eyes were on you instantly. You knew they didn’t recognize you at first because they all stiffened and Dewdrop bared his teeth with a slight snarl. You didn’t let your posture falter at that, bringing your hands to your sides as you tsked at him. You calmly made your way over to him, reaching him and using the fact that he was sitting to his advantage.

Standing over him you lowered your head just a bit to gaze down at your fiery Ghoul. “Now now, Dewdrop, that’s not the way to greet a lover, is it?” Rain was the first one to catch on and when he did he smiled and climbed over Mountain and Swiss to get into your view. Dewdrop bared his teeth once more and snapped in your direction before seeing Rain eagerly make his way over.

You spared a glance at Rain before turning to face him. “Rainy… My good Ghoul, my precious Rainy,” You purred, reaching a hand out to the water Ghoul who eagerly met it with his head and let you pet his hair. Rain peered up at you as his tail thumped against the back of the couch. “Hi, (Y/n)!” He chirped happily.

At the sound of your name leaving Rain’s mouth the other four’s faces contorted into surprise before a delighted smile. “There’s no way that’s you, (Y/n),” Swiss said with a smile. You turned to him and let your hand fall from Rain’s head. You pulled the helmet off and the balaclava down too.

“Holy Lucy, it really is them,” Dewdrop mumbled, feeling an embarrassed blush creep up on him for his actions. Mountain looked you up and down before nodding with approval. “You had me convinced, little blossom,” The earth Ghoul said.

You grinned and chuckled. “Well? I didn’t get this just to trick you guys. Go on, check it out,” You invited as you pulled the balaclava back up and slipped the helmet on once more. The Ghouls didn’t hesitate to get up and examine you, highly intrigued by the addition of a tail to the pants.

The Ghouls asked questions and you happily answered them, explaining the process and how Papa played a big part in it as well. When the question of the motive behind this came up you hummed. “Humans celebrate a holiday on the last day of October called Halloween. It’s tradition to dress up in a costume as something you like. This is what I chose. I chose you guys.”

It was silent for a few moments before all five Ghouls erupted into a chorus of awws. Before you knew it you were on the couch in the middle of a cuddle pile and you enjoyed every moment of it. You listened to the happy purrs of your Ghouls and nestled further into the pile.

Hours had passed now and everyone had fallen asleep in the pile except for you and Dewdrop. “(Y/n)?” The fire Ghoul asked as quietly as he could. You looked at him. “Yeah?” You replied with the same level of quietness. Dewdrop blew a kiss to you, not wanting to disrupt the pile by moving. You smiled and caught it with your mouth. “Look at you, you really are our little Ghoul now, aren't you?” He commented with a lazy and happy smile as he started to fall asleep in his spot.

You wiggled your arm out and held your hand out to Dewdrop who happily took it in his own. “Yes, Dewy. And I always will be your guys’ little Ghoul,” You answered. Dewdrop nodded and got more comfortable before yawning and letting sleep overcome him, not letting your hand go as he slept.

Sighing happily you looked over the Ghouls before shutting your eyes and letting your head fall against the back of the couch. “Happy Halloween, my perfect Ghouls. I love you all so much.”