#lucifasks

[lucifixion-pose]

While I assume the Ministry has very good lawyers on retainer (to say nothing of pure Satanic ptotection)...

Have any of the Papas had run-ins with the law? What'd those stamps get up to?....

🔗

Nihil has gotten busted for drug possession so many times, it's a miracle he got through the 60s and 70s without doing jailtime (Tobias please contact me immediately, I have Ideas for your fuckass comic books). He's also been drunk in public so many times the LAPD just hears a description of behavior over the radio and someone sighs, "Nihil again."

Primo has gotten citations for public indecency and disturbing the peace. The man simply wanted to celebrate the Solstice in the nude and had to interrupt his ritual work to deal with cops hassling him about "burning poisonous herbs in public" and "terrifying passersby with his genitalia" and "is that blood on you? Is that blood on your penis, sir? Please, please tell me that's chicken blood- oh, okay, I see the dead chicken but why is it on your penis? Sir, please put your peni- the 'ceremonial wand' away."

Secondo has actually managed to keep away from Johnny Law, but not the mafia. We don't see him in Vegas anymore because the Ministry stopped paying his gambling debts and he had to flee Sin City.

(He has relocated to Reno and is slowly causing the Same Problem for himself.)

Terzo is the shoplifter of the Papas. He steals Wet n' Wild eyeshadow for Secondo, little snaccs for Cardi, cat food for V (for snaccing purposes). He'll steal anything. He's in it for the love of the game, knowing he can charm his way out of it when he gets caught (He gets caught most of the time).

It's not the law per se, but in me and @thunderstorms-and-grape-sodas exquisite AU, Terzo is also banned from at least half the arcades in the continental US for Laser Tag Crimes.

Cardi gets pulled over for reckless driving a couple times a year because he's either way too into his music, fielding calls from the Ministry, or spaces out thinking about boobs and is suddenly swerving across the road.

Perpetua has the cops called on him constantly but they have yet to catch him. Lurking in people's backyards just beyond the treeline, digging through the trash for a treat, hopping fences to swim in the city reservoir; he doesn't understand what the big deal is. He's just creaturing around the city and doesn't get why people scream when he waves at them from the other side of their windows at night.

[lucifixion-pose]

Hormones got me by the feels so this will be a 180* from my last ask.

Applying the "That is my why" trend to Ghost. What is the meaningful driving force behind your choice of a specific being in the world of Ghost.

Tell me your why for Terzo.

Okay so I MIGHT have seen this ask, said, "That's a problem for Future Luci," and forgotten about it.

I'm not going to factor in Tobias/what was happening in his personal life and with the band. Keeping it strictly in-character/in-universe, despite having many, many, many thoughts regarding Tobias and this era of Ghost (I may have been drafting a post about this for many moons now). I also tend to follow "official" canon over fanon/headcanons, just FYI. Not religiously, but generally.

Sidenote: I've written much too extensively about why he's just so pretty so I won't rehash it, but Terzo also happens to be aesthetically perfect to me.

Anyway: Why has Terzo taken root in my soul?

Longtime listeners may recall Nihil was the first Papa I gravitated to, mostly on account of how much of a fucking DISH he is in the KTGG video, but Terzo was actually the first Papa I was aware of. Back on my old main tumblr account, some mutual of mine loved Ghost and occasionally reblogged pictures of him. At the time, my thoughts regarding Ghost boiled down to "Cirice and Dance Macabre kick ass, and Tuxedo Man is pretty hot, too bad the rest of their music sucks."

Yes, I do despise myself for hearing Ghost all the way back in 2014/15 and hating them. Coulda been there for Terzo era, maybe even Seco era, but noooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoOOOOoOoOOOOOOoOOOOOOOooOOO I had to sit around and wait until I dEvELoPeD aN eAr fOr tHeM. Ugh.

I went to see Ghost in August 2025, and The Hyperfixation™ took hold. I listened to the whole catalogue on loop. I watched all the Chapters. Eventually I found my way to the acoustic sets.

Enter: This Fucking Guy.

Ghuleh/Zombie Queen has been my favorite Ghost song for years, and this motherfucker busted out a kazoo for it. I desire him.

Ghost was like this puzzle for me —the reason I disregarded them the first time I heard them was because I hated Tobias' voice, yet in the acoustic sets his voice is gorgeous. I just kept watching the acoustic sets for like a week straight, trying to figure out why the fuck his voice just morphed all the time. But of course, the Unholy Unplugged Tour wasn't just music. It was Terzo. It was him interacting with fans, up close and personal, being aggressively handsome and charming while also blowing my tits clean off with his voice.

I had largely transitioned to being a Cardinal Copia Guy™ at that point, but I just kept watching Terzo. Terzo, the People's Princess.

Terzo, the only Papa we've ever seen having extended, candid, close-proximity interactions with fans. Sure, we got lots of personality from Seco and Cardi and to a lesser extent V (Sorry Primimi), but Terzo just hit different. He did over a dozen of these tiny, intimate acoustic sets, and he started to feel like much more of a real person to me because of it.

At this point I was so into Ghost that I started seeking out fanfic— something I'd done maybe 2-3 times in my life, then started writing my own because nobody was writing what I wanted (Sexy Papa Nihil).

I came to ghumblr, fucked around shitposting for a few weeks, and then I found out Terzo has Lore. (edit: shout out to cityofmeliora and blackbird5154 for ruining my life ;_;)

And his Lore is extensive.

And it's so fucking good. And it's not just like, lore about his background. It's his personality. What he's like offstage.

Fuck.

He's quiet. He appears for showtime, then disappears when it's done. The ghouls know almost nothing about him. He travels separately. He hates himself. He hates the world. He was a college libertarian who was, shall we say, flirting with fascism, and he grew the fuck out of it and became a socialist. He's isolated. He's depressed and likely suicidal.

He's kind to children. He flirts with anything with a pulse (and plenty of things without). Trips and falls aside, his body language onstage is seductive, feline, always so graceful and intentional. Polished, but still vulnerable and human.

Terzo had some of the worst shows Ghost ever got, on the technical side. He had a lot of shows where things went wrong —sometimes pretty damn badly, and he always recovered, always smoothed things over, keeping the crowd engaged and putting their experience first.

He would sit down during shows and just talk to the crowd for ten minutes, usually about sex and relationships, but also just whatever the fuck he felt like chatting about. He was openly political and vocally antifascist.

He wanted to talk to us.

He shows us —the fans— a face that's charming and cheerful, easily self-effacing, perfectly walking the line between down-to-earth humility and cocky, swaggering arrogance. And then the music stops, he walks offstage, and nobody sees him until the next show. We only get to know the broad strokes of who's under the (figurative) mask. Even as he embraced fans and clearly put them first, he still kept a distance. At every show he would single out one person and sing to them while holding their hand, then kiss their fingers and leave.

Does anyone really know him?

He's the only Papa who canonically has a friend, and he's still so dreadfully alone.

Even as the figurehead of a religious cult he wanted to empower people, and I think he's the only Papa who both fully understood the gravity of leading a cult, and didn't like it. He wanted to break free, and he wanted to teach people that they didn't need these power structures that rule their lives. He wanted them to listen to him. He wanted to help them, and he wasn't allowed to do that. He kept trying to break off his leash, kept testing the bounds of his enclosure, and kept having walls put up around him.

Terzo had so many plans.

The Ministry and his own family conspired to not just publicly humiliate him and remove him from power, but to kill him too. He won a Grammy —launching the in-universe Ghost Project to a whole new level of fame and success— and he got murdered anyway. He was murdered, and now he and his brothers are all but erased from the history they made.

If you consider The Magazine Cover canon —which I don't, for my own well-being— even murdering him wasn't enough. His corpse was desecrated, and that further humiliation was displayed for all to see.

He was tragic and romantic and kind. Sexy and playful and commanding. Beautiful and complex and complicated, and now he's dead.

How can I not be in love with him?

tldr? Just look at him, I guess.

It's a lot easier than reading an essay written deep in my feelings.

[lucifixion-pose]

gonst asks? okie dokie, lets put the papas in a situation :)

we all know that all of the papas worked very very hard and were given no time to relax away from the clergy. SO what if the clergy did arrange each papa a yearly vacation but did not bother to think about the kind of vacation each papa would actually enjoy? this is a very long winded way to ask - what is the worst kind of vacation you could send the papas on? one they would absolutely despise and come back from more stressed. :)

Primo: A day at an amusement park. A seismometer could pick up the intensity with which he's gritting his teeth as he stands in line for two hours to ride a rollercoaster. He didn't know the lines would be so long so he didn't wear his compression socks, and the orthopedic shoes can only do so much. His feet hurt. He almost loses his mitre when he finally gets on the ride. His robes are flapping around in an undignified manner and showing everyone his skinny old legs. The screams surrounding him are of delight rather than terror. He is Unhappy.

Secondo: A Yonic Wombyn's Retreat. They meant to send him to a Yoga retreat (he also would have hated that), but oopsie! At first he thinks it'll be great; he's clearly not supposed to be there but when he realizes he'll be surrounded by flexible chicks for a whole week (there is still yoga, of course), he smooths it over saying some shit like, "I wanted to connect with my feminine side" and gets to stay.

With each passing day it sinks in: None of these women are interested. They don't appreciate his contributions to discussions of vaginal health. They are not interested in his hedonistic anecdotes. They had to loan him yoga-appropriate clothing and everything is too tight yet no one appreciates how the yoga pants accentuate his package. He has never stretched in his whole life and is too stiff to do anything. He spends the whole week sore, cranky, borrowing ineffective """natural""" ointments for his bug bites, sulking when he's accused of perpetuating toxic masculinity, and complaining about the food (everything is vegetarian or gluten/dairy/nut/sugar-free).

On the last night he finally gets so close to bangin' one of these ladies but they're interrupted and she scurries away to guiltily journal about how much she misses her fuckass deployed soldier husband.

When the ghouls come to pick him up the next day he's been at the front gates since sunrise, sitting grumpypants-style on his luggage. He doesn't speak to anyone for days.

Terzo: He would clean👏 up👏 at the Yonic Wombyn's retreat, but alas, he is sent on a cruise. On paper this seems like it would be great, and he is initially excited to chill out on a deck chair for a week and soak up some sun, but when he boards, he is given a schedule of all the different little events they have.

He's flipping through it like, "Oh, this is fun, maybe I would like to do a little painting class while I'm here," etc, but then he starts thinking, "I should make the most of my time off, right?" and thus begins the spiral.

He spends so much time on the road that he never has time for him anymore, you know? All his hobbies have fallen to the wayside. His personal development has stagnated. When was the last time he danced, or painted, or just played some board games? Maybe Asian Fusion cuisine was his calling this entire time and he's never had the chance to find out. Maybe learning the ukelele is what he should do. No! It's pastels! Drawing with pastels could be his new Thing!

He spends all his time hustling his ass across that huge boat, stressing over whatever little event he had to skip due to a scheduling conflict, never enjoying anything all the way because what if he was really meant to go to a wine tasting today? Sure, he thought he knew about wine, but what if he was mistaken?

He is exhausted, and in the middle of this ongoing ADHD crisis he stress-eats too many buffet shrimp, gets food poisoning, and has to spend the last two days puking in his room anyway.

He also gets fined for chain-smoking in his room between bouts of vomiting.

Cardi is sent to a Men's Fitness retreat. Just look at these and tell me Cardi wouldn't want to die within 24 hours. He'd show up cautiously optimistic and the first night would go great! He'd have a blast eating steaks with the boys, but then the next day his ass would be red-faced and pouring sweat, sitting on a rock as the boys all pass him on the trail.

He'd have some fun (mostly eating more steak with the boys), like the swimming and sitting-around-looking-at-nature parts, but eventually I think he'd just sit around at the cabin or whatever, waiting for the boys to come back from throwing logs around, and he would miss all the male bonding and end up withdrawing and getting sad when they all have inside-joke nicknames for one another and shit.

I made myself a little sad picturing this. Sorry, pookie. He wanted to go to Space Camp.

Perpetua: Water park. Like Primo he would hate waiting in line, but more importantly, his time as a cryptid in the Pacific Northwest was full of lakes and rivers and ponds, leaving him with a deep-seated distrust of chlorinated water. He would keep reflexively drinking from the pools as he swam, then choke and spit out the piss/poolwater. He screeches and runs away when someone tries to put sunscreen on him and gets badly sunburned.

Now that he's living in the human world he's become aware of his physical appearance, and with this knowledge comes the curse of finding out that getting his hair wet ruins his beautiful curls, too.

He is a miserable, peeling lobster, complaining for at least a week about frizziness and the chlorine smell sticking to him.

[lucifixion-pose]

FOR FUCK'S SAKE TUMBLR

I got an anon asking which Papa served the most cunt, spent like an hour Researching™, and when I was finally finished, tumblr bugged out and wouldn't let me post it. So when I said, "fine, I'll just do it again," and discarded the post, it also discarded the ask, apparently.

Fortunately,

I screenshotted the entire post because I was just going to post that rather than find all the pictures and type everything up again (uncommon ADHD W)

Of course, if I just posted the screenshots, no one could look at the individual pictures. So I ended up just re-doing it anyway :]

So here, anon, the answer to your burning question:

Nihil, obviously.

Nah but seriously though,

(Continued below because this got very long.)

Pet came out the gate very strong

Cardinal Cardinal, while not a Papa, is also a strong pick.

The suits gave him such a Shape.

(bitingbitingbitingbitingbitingbiting)

Even if Era IV wasn't the cuntiest, I adore this video and will share it at any opportunity

Secondo is an underrated Server, IMO.

Sexo was so good at the drama and gravitas side of things.

Speaking of gravitas and drama (in that order), Primo was known to Serve:

Terzo, of course, is an obvious contender.

She literally got her nails done for us

Just gonna admire my wife for a sec, 'scuse me

God he's beautiful.

At the end of the day, however, as lovely as my husband is, I gotta give it up to Popia.

OKAY SO WHAT IF I HAVE A THING FOR THAT JACKET IT'S PERFECTLY NORMAL THE DOCTORS SAID SO

[lucifixion-pose]

What's your ideal spa night with terzo? Sex can only come at the very end.

That's so weird, I literally just sent someone an ask and this popped up a second later. I thought I'd gotten an automated response or something, ha. Anyway:

If we go somewhere fancy, like an actual spa spa: I want to see him fully gooped up. Mud bath. Seaweed wrap. Bright green mask on the face, like everything they show on TV for fancy spas.

And we don't have to just imagine it! As chance would have it, I made took these pictures of him months ago showing that he's alive and well and was at the spa then too!

He even had a little snack :]

Anyway, after he's been just completely slopped up gloppy goop-style, I think he needs a pedicure. He strikes me as a guy who doesn't take care of his feet. So a very aggressive pedicure for him, along with a much gentler manicure.

Then he and I sit around in the thickest, plushest robes on earth, face, foot, and hair masks on as he regales me with tales of what a bummer Poland was to live in in the 70s/80s while we play footsie and drink Oprah's Mushroom Bog Water or whatever that Tahani joke on the Good Place was.

Also massages.

If we do something at home: I'm getting as much goop on that man as I can because he clearly needs to moisturize, Terzo, honey, please fucking moisturize sometimes I am begging you.

I assume I have to tackle him to get goo on his face but we keep it nonsexual even as I pin his noodly little body to the ground and he's squirming underneath me and maybe crying a little and-

Uhh. So I get a face mask on him at some point, and one of those ridiculous skin-peeling foot masks that you use and then they don't actually take effect for like 2-3 weeks (actually I need to use one of those myself when I finish writing this, this was a good reminder, thank you). He also gets a nice hand mask.

Oh! And later on I pin him down again and get him nice and slathered up with some hair oil for his body, get that man-carpet nice and silky, and also he's wriggling around again but I possess an inner strength spurred on by the need to get him nice and cleaned up and so so soft.

Eventually I'd have to get him in the shower and go over him with an Italy towel, just slough everything off until he's all pink and new (he does it for me too obviously, spa night is for sharing (??)).

Then we sit around in pajamas and he regales me with tales of how much Europop has gone downhill since the 80s and I'm half-listening because he's so very pretty even as he's trying to talk with a sheet mask awkwardly getting in his mouth.

Also massages.

And I lotion him up real good.

Thanks for the ask! 👍 It's given me much to think about in my alone time.

[lucifixion-pose]

each papa cum tastiness level on a scale of 0-10

thoughts?

Of course I have thoughts, anon! Probably too many, both in general and about Antipope cum!

Young Nihil: grassy notes, musky. 6/10

Old Nihil: if anything comes out, it's like cottage cheese. -11/10

Primo: he knows his cum tastes bad, like bitter cobweb milk, but his knowledge of herbalism and sex magic has led him to craft concoctions to alter the taste for the better. It is not effective. 2/10

Secondo: I just know this old man comes a lot. Like, in volume. Like, in amount (but also sound, why not?). If you get him after a nice meal it's truly something to savor. 7/10

Terzo: Do I even have to say it? Do I have to say that this man's cum is the nectar of the gods? I feel in my bones that it doesn't just taste good, but smells good and has a pleasing mouthfeel as well. I'm not biased, of course, I just think he's Satan's specialest little soldier and if you say you're lactose intolerant he whips that thing out to give you a nut-based dairy alternative that'll have you hooked for life. Put it in my cereal, Terzo. I will be a kitten lapping at a saucerful of cream. Just give it to me by the spoonful. Hook it to my veins and get my blood pregnant. Drown me at the pearly gates.

Anyway I can't officially rank the taste of Terzo's cum until the Ministry returns my damn phone calls, so for now I'll give it a 9/11.

Cardi: As much as I dislike the fanon that this man subsists on nothing but juice boxes and old Nimtemdo cartridges, if he does consume fruit juice regularly then according to early-00s internet lore, his cum should taste pretty good. So let's say fruity, chased with a hint of freshly-opened CDs. 8/10

Perpetua: Mossy, woodsy, hints of entrails. Plentiful and easily acquired. 7/10.

[lucifixion-pose]

Random gonst questions you say?

Tell me what you, personally, would do if given a day to spend with each Papa

Old Nihil: Lecturing that old man about healthy emotional expression while beating him at Scrabble.

Young Nihil: Kiss the [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] until he [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] all over my [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT]

Primo: Getting lectured about unhealthy emotional expression while getting my ass handed to me at Scrabble, then Grandpa [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] and I would [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] until his orthopedic shoes were knocked off, then [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] for a little longer. After that we'd hit up an early bird special, and on the ride home we'd get in an argument about whether butterscotch candies are better than those strawberry candies with the goop inside, you know, like the ones that you get at banks? They're not —strawby goop candy is superior but that old man won't see reason, dammit.

Anyway I fix him a nice cup of Ovaltine before bed (6PM) and only poison it a little bit. That's how we have fun :]

Secondo: Slap his bald head [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] -style and [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] on his [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT][REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT][REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] and sure he'll be complaining the whole time but all you have to do is [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT][REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] and he'll calm down. He'll never forgive me for stealing his aviators though 😔

Terzo: I would hold that old man so so close and give him as many little kissies as he could stand while listening to him yap about Romanian Expressionist silent films and how they predicted the course of the Cold War, and then [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT][REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT][REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] Then I would finally die happy.

Cardi: Plant my fat ass in that man's lap and we play Untitled Goose Game from start to finish. We try playing Wilmot's Warehouse but he won't stick to our organizational schema and we finally both give up in a huff. While he's still irritated I start [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] his nose (original version only) and [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] silly-style for his [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT] and then maybe we would break for cheeseburgers I think? just to get some more energy for [REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT][REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT][REDACTED — MATURE CONTENT]

Pet: I take him birdwatching in the park, but he starts getting so excited that I have to put him on a leash to prevent him scurrying off after chipmunks, and that gets him so excited that we start fucking nasty right in the park and the cops get called on us but he won't stop driving his cock into me right there in public and people are shrieking and covering their baby's eyes as they hurry their strollers away but he is undeterred, even when the cops hit him with tasers it just makes him come so hard he screams and pops a knot (and a nut) right into me and then we're stuck there bare-ass fuckin' in the park, and he shrieks at the cops to stay away cause he has to give me a reacharound because he's a fucking gentleman, dammit, and he accidentally ("accidentally") severs one of the cop's carotid arteries while he's flailing to keep them away and there's blood everywhere but that just makes him harder, but there's also reinforcements coming so he has to pick me up and hustle us out of the park, cock still in me until it finally falls out and is floppin' around while he runs us home.

It was quite a week!

[lucifixion-pose]

You ask your boyfriend/husband Papa to pick you up after work.

What is each Papa's modus operandi?

Pick you up in a fancy car? Have the ghouls drive them? Do they bring you a treat?

Nihil, when he was alive, would definitely pick you up in whatever shitbox beater he currently had. He brings you a weed brownie, drives you to the beach, and blasts classic rock. The vibes are impeccable despite that circus man not showering enough.

Primo knows how to drive but man's got better things to do, so while he will pull himself away from His Grand Work (#hisgrandwork) long enough to pick you up, a ghoul's doing the driving. He's a "We have treats at home," guy.

His grand work is practicing his cursive, writing "Mr. Primo Bathory" over and over.

Secondo drives himself, and while I don't buy his Mr. Worldwide Machismo one bit, I do think he would own an old muscle car. He doesn't bring a treat, but he did bring a hat for you so the wind doesn't mess up your hair (the top of that car stays down), and he will stop for a nice dinner. Vibes off the charts, as he also believes in the power of blasting music in the car.

A hill I will die on is Terzo does not drive. I think he just never bothered to learn and as time went on he never had issues securing a ride so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ A ghoul drives him around, probably in like, a Lincoln Towncar. That's what I assume the Ministry would have. The little treat he brings is himself (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)

Cardi drives himself for sure, in the Buick (Is that car actually his? Who knows). He picked up some McDonald's for you on the way, and he immediately pulls into the next McDonald's drive-thru he sees to sheepishly order more fries because he ate most of yours already (this is fine; I am a staunch believer in the Fry Tax).

Pet does not have a license but he still drives, the little scamp. He'll remember partway home to ask if you're hungry, scrounge around in the center console for some mints, then miss every single turn for a restaurant, like so:

"Want some Taco Bell? Wait, do you like Taco Bell? I forge- ack, we've passed it already, shit." This is not done purposefully; he wants Taco Bell too.

After missing six food places in a row he will finally turn in time to get to like, a KFC, and that turn comes with screeching tires and many angry honking cars around you. It takes him a full ten minutes to order because, unbeknownst to you, he got into Nihil's weed brownies right before you asked him to pick you up and they are kicking in at speed. Halfway home he has to pull over and ask you to finish driving. He feeds you as you drive, though, and he is so happy that the KFC also had a Taco Bell that you can't get mad. The critter got a chalupa and is over the moon about it.