TAKING A BREAK - REQUESTS CLOSED - SEE PINNED
MinorsDNI NSFW | 30+ Ghost fan, writes fanfic and whines about it
Header by delulluart
Find me on AO3 at copingcopia
Sideblog: unemployedcopia
Hello friends! This is an 18+ blog, minors please do not interact! If your pinned/bio does not clearly show you are an adult you will be blocked.
Here to write fics, make friends and hornypost with other Ghost fans :) I also have a sideblog @unemployedcopia for anything non-ghost I wanna talk about.
I am in my 30s and from the UK, cis woman, bi/pansexual.
I post fics here and on AO3 and I am also on bsky. Moots are also free to add me on Discord. I also have a fic list .
I no longer have a taglist. If I post WIPs, you can ask to be tagged in the final fic. You can also ask to be tagged for upcoming parts of planned series.
I do not police what content others make or consume. While there are some things I will avoid personally, this is not out of judgement. I will try to accurately tag and add warnings to anything I write so you can do the same.
ASKS — Requests currently CLOSED
(fic requests cannot be anon, must show 18+ on your blog)
Feel free to send me any questions/thoughts/writing feedback as well as writing requests. I mostly write Copia x Reader smut but open to other asks! You can search #answered asks on my blog to see examples, or look at the fic list. Please see request guidance below.
Request Rules:
Will write Perpetua, Copia, Terzo or Secondo x reader. Please specify reader gender/anatomy in request if you have a preference.
Will write NSFW and SFW. Can specify smut/angst/fluff/comfort etc. or it will be open to my interpretation
Feel free to specify Cardinal/Papa/Frater with Copia requests. I also sometimes give him a very different personality types depending on the prompt/scenario or just how I feel at the time. So please specify if you want.
I do not take requests for ghouls, Primo, Nihil, Sister Imperator or the Psaltarians
If not specified, I may write a fic, headcanon or just general thoughts on your prompt
Open to requests based on my other fics/prompts/AUs. Please look through my masterlist and specify in your request
Will not write or engage with Papa x Papa content
Kinks: I do not write a lot of heavily kink-focused fics but you are welcome to request it. Anything I do not feel comfortable with I will say no to. You can always ask for clarification if not sure
All asks will be tagged with #answered asks and your name
Anon fic requests will be deleted. If your bio/pinned does not clearly show you are an adult, it will be deleted
ok im going back into hiding, i got the funnies out. but i will leave you with this (aka will share a horrifying thought and then run away)
there was videos from one of the later skeletour dates of cenotaph apparently being soundchecked.
but what if it wasn't? what if they were filming? what if frater is actually dead and perpetua sings cenotaph to close out the movie to grieve for the twin he never got to meet?
"Oh, Papa!" you exclaim, gasping from your 39th orgasm as he pulls his mouth away from your generically described genital area. "You're incredible. I need you so bad."
"I know," he says, grinning to show all of his big Perpetual teeth. "I want you." He climbs over you, and kisses you, and you moan into his mouth. He tries to slide into you, but you cry out.
"Oh, Papa!" you exclaim as you feel the thick, hard head of his cock. "It's simply...2 Big!"
I know I don't have to announce my departure, but I guess I am anyway. I don't think this place is healthy for me any more. Definitely not right now.
I ended up unfollowing a large number of mutuals yesterday but tbh I still don't know if that is a knee jerk reaction I will regret, so I think I just need to not engage with the fandom at all and leave it for a while. Mentally in a really bleak place and that is why I found comfort here but it's not really feeling positive anymore.
I'm not deleting anything yet. Trying to calm down before doing anything else. I guess if anyone is upset with me I am willing to talk it out but I may be a bit unresponsive for a bit because I know I'm not thinking straight right now and I don't want to make things worse.
sometimes i see posts that i agree with in principle but are so combative and confrontational i cannot separate the poster from the people they are criticising.
its all "enjoy things they way you want, play with your dolls and have fun", until that person chooses not to engage with something thats important to you in the way you like to engage with it.
also... even if you fundamentally disagree with someone and think you hate them, there are some lines you shouldn't cross. judge someone by the way they treat their enemies, etc. its all "harassment is bad" until you personally decide someone is wrong and you can justify it.
like, yeah you can call things out. you can call people out. but sometimes you come full circle and then both sides are having some moral superiority contest where they both look stupid and mean.
I'd love to see a 27 with Cardi. Someone did a prompt/post with that and premature ejaculation!Cardi and I have a mighty craving.
-Bender'sGhost
@bendersghost Due to some similar requests, also added as requested:
I AM SO HAPPY TO BRING BACK PREM EJAC FRATER AGAIN. In fact, I will take this chance to perhaps recommend looking through my fic list if you would like more of this (do i need to make a list specifically for these fics? i can also point you in the right direction if required to further satisfy the cravings).
27. touch starved + 1. wardrobe malfunctions/ruined clothes from the vague tropes prompt list
Thanks to @cenotaphghuleh for proofreading assistance, editing and generally just making this actually good. You are too generous :) any mistakes still in here are mine
Frater Imperator x Reader. No specific terms used for reader.
Explicit 18+ MDNI. Prem ejac, handjob/oral. Frater has an eventful appointment with his tailor. Things escalate quickly. ~2.3k words
Although you had never really seen Frater truly at ease, there was something especially awkward about him today. You hadn't had much one-on-one interaction. Just a few fittings and measurements that had all gone relatively smoothly - mostly polite, professional small talk and some less professional jokes about inappropriate touching while taking his inseam which seemed to help him relax.
But not today.
The awkward pauses seemed more curt, punctuated only by throat clearing and monosyllabic answers when it was necessary to speak. You tried to read him but, as per usual, he was making it difficult and you couldn't really say if it was intentional or not. His eyes darted around the room but it felt like more than tiredness or distraction; it felt like he was trying to forget you were there, which was hard not to take personally.
"Frater?" He briefly manages to make eye contact, sheepishly, with an acknowledging grunt. "Your measurements haven't changed that much and it looks like it's still fitting you well."
He shifts uncomfortably. You wait for a response but he stays silent. You do, however, catch a glint of uncertainty.
"We can have a look at the new suits. Unless you wanted any alterations?"
"Uhh, I was thinking about…" He's really trying not to look at you now. "I was having some issues with, ah… Chafing?"
He swallows hard and rubs the back of his neck, a blush spreading across his cheeks.
"Chafing?"
"Yes. Uh, irritation. Yes! Ah, if we could do something around the, ah, thiiiigh… area."
You frown. Looking him up and down, everything seems to be fitting perfectly. The suit had been meticulously scrutinised when it was first made with many, many alterations to make everything sit perfectly on his frame, exactly how he requested. The waist had been let out a bit on a couple of occasions but he had never had an issue with the fit. You stare at the allegedly affected area and it looks… fine? Not too tight, but shows off his shape. Just the way he's always liked it since becoming Frater.
"It doesn't… sorry, Frater, I don't see how the material or the fit could be causing problems. I'm not sure what I can do."
You give an apologetic sigh. Not convinced that he's being entirely honest, you try to think of what could be causing his discomfort. Judging by his fidgeting demeanour, and any further attempt at explanation dying in his throat, you know he's likely to be as transparent as a brick wall with you. Not wanting to pry beyond your area of expertise, you decide to focus on something you can do.
"I have some new pieces to show you, and some other ideas, sketches. We can take a look at some, maybe try some on. Look at some different styles and fits, see if any of those are more comfortable?"
"Yes, that would be, uh, fine. Good. Thank you," he smiles at you, before turning his attention to a very interesting spot on the carpet.
You bring out a rack of jackets for him and organise a spread of concepts and swatches on your desk. You had excitedly thrown yourself into putting designs together the moment he had hinted at perhaps being ready to add some colour back into his wardrobe. While you appreciated a sleek black minimalist look every now and then, and how Frater looked in his, you couldn't deny the desire for some variety.
Given the so far frigid atmosphere of today's appointment, you were worried you may not get the opportunity to even present them to Frater. However, now the focus was firmly away from him and he could talk about you instead, the room began to thaw. While at first he seemed overwhelmed by choice, he assured you that he was simply in awe of your dedication and skill. In no time at all, he was excitedly flicking through pages of designs and ensuring you knew how talented he believed you to be.
He even managed to accept a few compliments himself, playfully batting away your assertions he would look good in anything but laughing along all the same. Your heart melts a bit as he picks out his favourite ideas as most of them are inspired by his papal robes and stage costumes. You hadn't made them too obvious - a little blue trim on certain pieces, a burgundy shirt with rouleau buttons inspired by his Cardinal days and a few epaulette-style blazer adornments - and of course he didn't comment on if that was the reason he loved them so much. You just share a knowing glance and file them away, ready to be worked on tomorrow.
Content that your job seems safe, you rifle through the pieces you've already assembled, now armed with a more educated guess on what Frater might gravitate towards. The earlier conversation still playing on your mind, you wonder if you should attempt to tackle that today instead; you have some full sets and trousers he could try on so you can try to figure out some looser fit solutions. But, not wanting to completely abandon the work you had put into today's collection, you set the thought aside for now.
Frater stands in front of the floor length mirror in preparation. You notice that in the short time you had been turned away from him, something had changed. Tension was creeping back into his posture and, as you get closer, his pupils widen and he looks like he's having to stop himself recoiling.
"Everything okay?" You ask, noticing a slight flinch as you smooth your hand over his shirt.
He makes some vaguely dismissive noises, shifting his weight from foot to foot and adjusting his waistband. You push underneath his jacket to remove it but you barely move an inch beneath the material before he stops you, with a firm hand on yours.
"Sorry! I-uh…" he breathes out. Neither of you move, suddenly aware of how close you are together and how heavily Frater is breathing. He loosens his grip, seemingly shocked by his own action.
"You're not usually ticklish, Frater," you tease, now also surprised by your own low, purring tone. His eyes close as you slide down his shirt and your hands settle above his belt.
"Just a bit, um, sensitive today."
The truth is though, it wasn't just today. His neglected body feels like it might cave in on itself if you touch him anymore. Even accidentally brushing against one of your mannequins on the way in had sent a shameful thrill through him and the more he thought about it, the more pathetic he felt. But he just couldn't stop. And the more ashamed of himself he felt, the more aware he became of the simmering need under his skin. Even the shift of his clothes was making his cock twitch. The admission, even just to himself, of how plagued by loneliness he was only compounded his self-loathing, with inescapable fantasies of relief filling his head only aggravating it further.
He should have cancelled today's meeting. He had been kidding himself thinking he could get through it without the incessant intrusive thoughts derailing it. Sheer force of will wasn't enough to shut them out. Touching himself in the moments he gets to himself hadn't been making it more manageable either. And, as much as he would like to, he couldn't hide in his room and avoid his responsibilities until he had figured out a way to get it out of his system.
Of course, he knows how. He knows what he needs, what he craves. But the fear of having to explain, or making a mess of himself before he even has time to, is enough to have him praying for the ground to open up and swallow him. And now, with you staring and standing so tantalisingly close, the warmth of your hands burning through his shirt, he wouldn't mind if the Old One himself appeared to drag him down into the pits of hell.
You feel his heart hammering in his chest and, in contrast to most of the day so far, he can't take his eyes off you. He sways as if weighing up whether to back away or lean in. You find yourself very aware of your own breath, and raising temperature and the faint tremble of Frater under your touch. He shudders as your fingers flex over his stomach and, just as you begin to ask if he needs a break, you look down and freeze.
"It wasn't your thighs that were chafing, was it?"
Knowing there isn't a way out of this, Frater blinks slowly with a defeated sigh. "I said 'thigh area'," he replies with zero conviction.
Still a lie. Technically, at least currently, the problem was his waistband. Or, more accurately, the problem was attempting to peek out of it and escape.
You stare for far too long, as Frater actively wishes for death, but your hands become increasingly restless. With the tension now so thick it sticks you together, you lean in. Pressing your body to his, you feel the outline of his cock poke into you and he breathes an airy sigh, as if slipping into a warm bath, as your hands slide up to his shoulders. He watches, bewildered in the moments he can keep his eyes open, and you make a decision before you're conscious of it.
"I don't think you can blame the suit for this," you say softly.
"No. No, it's my fault. Me. You cannot help, I should not ha—"
"Oh, but I can."
Static builds as you rub back down his chest, addictive to you and agonising to him. Desperate to put him out of his misery, you pop the button of his trousers and carefully unzip him. His knees buckle as his length springs free and you help his trousers fall to his ankles. Before he can react, you shuffle Frater backwards until the back of his knees hit the back of a chair. He slumps down and, as you move behind him, he catches sight of himself in the mirror - bare legged, with the hem of his shirt crumpling against his stomach where his erection lies against it.
His V-shaped brooch feels heavy against his sternum and he feels sweat pooling under his jacket. A panic mixes with disgust at his reflection but he can only tear his eyes away once he feels you massaging his shoulders. You dig in your thumbs and he lets out a drawling groan, and you are determined to hear that noise again.
As you work into the muscle, Frater's hand creeps across his lap but when yours move to stroke down his neck, it snaps around his dick. You move down over his lapels as he slowly begins to work his shaft, whimpering like a dog left out in the cold. His movements are hesitant, guilty, and you watch pain and shame etch themselves on his face with each stroke. Like he can't stop and as if he knows whatever relief is coming isn't real. Or enough. But he resigns himself to whatever happens next.
His lips delicately part as you step in front of him and drop to your knees to replace his hand with your own, gasping at how softly you hold him. As your mouth meets skin, kissing along his thigh and licking over hair, he begins to shake. Watching him dissolve into pleasure, so close to completely giving in, you think about keeping him here like this all day, teasing until he is begging you for mercy. However, as you lower your mouth over his already sticky tip and he moans loudly with zero restraint, you realise he is not the only impatient one.
You alternate between using your hand and your mouth, tasting him for only seconds at a time. The effect you have on him with even the gentlest of touches is mesmerising; his body pleads for more and less at the same time, almost too terrified to enjoy how good it feels. You fight to find the balance between prolonging it all and giving him what he needs. You lose.
You raise from your knees and crawl on to his lap, and you are met with a look of fear and lust that makes your own body throb. You grip his cock and begin stroking and squeezing, guided by his strangled moans and the rocking of your own hips against him. There are no thoughts now about making it last, your mind clouded by your own desire. But just as you throw caution to the wind, speeding up and panting against him, Frater breaks and, in a sudden panic, tries to remove your hand and push you away.
His hips thrust up and with one final, pained whine, he bucks into his own fist as you fall backwards to the floor, just in time to watch him utterly fall apart. Fumbling with himself as he cums in pulsing spurts, he can only howl and shudder through it as his seed splatters up his shirt. White streaks through the black material, smearing and seeping into the silk of his jacket lapels as he loses control, unprepared for the force and length of his climax. Despite the almost immediate exhaustion, his body doesn't stop until he's a trembling, sobbing wreck.
By the time it's over, Frater understandably looks ready to pass out. Limp and winded, he barely manages to stay in the chair. He reaches over his shoulder and clings to the backrest, turning away from you slightly. You know you need to clean him up and so, as Frater seemingly tries to curl up into a ball in his seat, you leave to get some towels. You hope that by the time you get back, you will have figured out something to say. At least you can offer him something else to wear.
thinking about copia sucking cock/the strap so beautifully.
he's on his knees, staring up at you while you push the tip against his lips. there's a twinkle to his eye as you praise the way he opens them. he's warm and inviting.
"sweet thing," you coo, cupping his face with your hands. "so obedient for me."
a hand comes up to brace against your hip. his thumb strokes with reverence across the flesh there, and he takes the tip into his mouth. he whimpers a little at the weight of it atop his tongue.
"you want it?"
he mumbles a "mhm" around your cock and bobs his head just a little, eager to take you in even further.
and who are you to deny him?
so you thread your fingers through his greying hair and squeeze gently, guiding his head down the shaft. it's a small movement, allowing plenty of time for him to begin adjusting to the intrusion.
he lets out a muffled groan as he bobs his head again, making a show of how much deeper he's taking you with each back-and-forth movement. both hands are grasping your hips now, gently tugging them towards his face.
the noises he makes turn more choked and strained as the tip of your cock nudges the back of his throat. his nose inches further and further towards your pubic bone. tears prick at his eyes, and as he blinks them away, a few fall down his cheeks.
he's never looked more beautiful.
he pulls himself off after a rather enthusiastic suck at the tip, panting and puffy-lipped. it must be something important if it pulled him away from such bliss.
"use me." he presses the shaft to his open mouth and kisses along the side of it. "please?"
his eyes are expectant, hopeful that you'll fuck his throat just the way he likes. you both know how good he'll be. he can take it.
Good news: It's Saturday so time for another chapter!
Bad news: It's plot, not smut. Hope you'll forgive me ;)
Aether/Copia/OC with kink dynamics, switchy Copia, manipulative soft dom Aether, a very bitey ghoul, a possible conspiracy within the Ministry, and learning to find purpose for yourself.
When they returned to the kitchen, Copia and Perpetua were hugging again, tightly.
“You be careful,” Perpetua said. “You’re the only twin I have.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Copia said, pulling back. “We might have a triplet stashed somewhere at this fucking point.”
Perpetua smiled, but didn’t laugh. “And after all this is over, you need a vacation. Come stay for a while and we’ll relax.”
Copia snorted. “Are you kidding? After all this is over, I’m going to have a mountain of work to scale.” He sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if I was really jealous of you being papa or if I just didn’t want this job. But it’s mine, I guess. Here I am.”
uhhhhhh what do you think the Papas worst case scenario is first date wise? like, when they are taking one last look in the mirror before they go to meet their date, what is their nonsensical catastrophic intrusive thought that has them panicking?
Let's make the old men insecure!
Nihil: Is worried that Sister Imperator is going to find out. Because of course, the date is not with her. He hasn't taken her on a date since 1969.
Primo: His nightmare date is the thought that it goes too well...in like a boring, normal date sense. He yearns for a partner who matches (or possibly even exceeds) his freak and if he ends up going out with a perfectly nice individual who is an attentive listener and genuinely attracted to him but with like no interest in murder at all he will scream. Bonus points if they turn out to be a Christian.
Secondo: Is very good at flirting, joking, and communicating with his body language - but with his words? Not so much. He wants to have fun yes but he wants to connect with a potential partner as well and fuck, that is not gonna be his strong suit, and he knows it, and he is so worried that he is gonna fuck it up or worse let his fear of fucking up lead for him to not try at all and to keep up the glib interactions the whole time.
Terzo: Is worried they will like him too much too fast and are falling for an image, an idealized version of him, and not his real self. He knows how to be good at romance and get a good grade in it, same with sex, but he wants more than to be good at the date, he (like his brother) wants something Real and he is so naturally charming that he is afraid that if any trace of his true inner self shows the person will flee.
Cardi: Honestly what ISN'T he worried about. He could trip and knock over everything on the table and ruin their dinner. He could forget the person's name or Satan forbid the time and date of the date itself. He could misread all the social cues or zone out for an important shred of conversation. His propensity for verbal awkwardness could read as 'creepy old man' instead of 'endearing goof'. What does he even want to be called? C? Cardi? Frater - no that's no work/life balance, fuck. Shit. Papa? Too kinky for a first date. He's staring into the mirror not seeing anything but his own catastrophizing in his head for long enough that he genuinely does risk running late.
Perpetua: Is not afraid before the date. He enters the encounter with hope and sunny enthusiasm and a dorkish confidence. No, no, it is afterwards. When he gets home, after the goodnight kiss (he's enough of a gentleman to not fuck on the first date), when he's sitting alone and looking at his phone wondering if he's going to get a text or a call or an email or smoke signals or something back, he's going over every moment of the date wondering did I smile at the right things - was my smile the big creepy one that scares the ghouls or was it normal and cute? Did I have something in my teeth? Oh fuck what if my fly was down the whole time? He cannot be Calm and Normal about the date no matter how it actually went until he hears back from the person he went with. After which he goes into the next date blissfully confident again...this cycle repeats until they're living together and he no longer has the moments Without to be worried in
