I'll be the shadow You'll be the light

(Copia reads pretty definitively as "little spoon" to me, so him as big spoon should be interesting to explore!)

see, i feel like i think differently of him... here's a lil somethin somethin:

Papa Emeritus the Fourth’s robes were smooth beneath your fingertips.

You gingerly removed the stole from his shoulders, folded it, and draped it on a nearby chair. He stayed still, his shoulders sloped, his breath deep and slow.

This was its own ritual. Black Mass had just ended, a late-night edition. You prepared the clothing, ensuring everything was ready for the next mass. With that came undressing Papa after each one.

You started a job that once made you blush, but now the routine and his quirks were familiar.

He was quiet today.

“Ready, Papa?”

A nod. No words.

You unzipped the back of his black robe, the orange and gold detail catching in the soft light of the vestry. The fabric was lush, soft in your hands as you pulled it from him.

You expected him to step out in his undershirt and trousers and dismiss you as usual. Instead, he lingered, watching as you hung the robe.

“Something you need, Papa?”

“Eh, actually — yes. Yes, I had something to ask of you.” He shuffled his feet, fiddling with his hands. Copia was looking at you now, tiredness in his eyes. “It is… you can say no, of course.”

Papa was obviously nervous, which made your own chest bloom with a strange kind of anxiety. He always seemed to be a ball of nerves,

“A cuddle. Would you… would you have a cuddle with me?” He nearly cringed at his own words, turning his head away from you. “It doesn’t— we don’t have to—“

Your mind raced as he stammered. This was not a request to deny. Papa was asking, and you couldn’t say no.

That’s how you ended up beneath his crushed blue velvet duvet, waiting for him. He hadn’t expected you to say yes, so delight lit his face. He quickly took your hand, leading you to his quarters.

You shakily slipped off your habit, setting it aside so you wore only a camisole and underwear. He unbuttoned and slid off his slacks, leaving himself in tight black boxers. You’d seen him scantily clad before, but now, knowing you were about to share a bed, your skin buzzed with anticipation.

To your surprise, any earlier awkwardness seemed to have disappeared when Papa left the vestry. His movements were now smooth as he walked around the bed, a small smile resting on his lips as he prepared to join you.

“I’ve needed this.”

The bed dipped as he dropped his knee, crawling in beside you. His skin, already flushed, felt warm against yours. A breath caught in your throat when his arm wound around your middle, tugging you close.

How good it felt to be held by him. His frame was strong, yet comfortable. His hand drifted up your arm, fingers circling your wrist. You sighed deeply, your body shuddering with sudden comfort.

“Oh. I didn’t take you to be the ‘big spoon’ kind of guy.” Mentally, you facepalmed at how casual you sounded.

Papa chuckled into your neck. “There’s a lot that’s unknown about me, tesoro.” His words held surprising weight. You spent so much time with him, yet do you really know him? It was your duty to serve—to dress and undress him for each mass.

Is he different behind closed doors?

He was already proving it.

You settled into him as his fingers laced with yours. “I’ve needed this. Some downtime with another.” His breath ghosted the sensitive skin behind your ear. “It’s a lonely job. If you’ve ever wondered.”

Silence stretched.

“It’s a lonely job. If you’ve ever wondered.”

“I will do this whenever you ask, Papa.”

(Copia reads pretty definitively as "little spoon" to me, so him as big spoon should be interesting to explore!)

see, i feel like i think differently of him... here's a lil somethin somethin:

Papa Emeritus the Fourth’s robes were smooth beneath your fingertips.

You gingerly removed the stole from his shoulders, folded it, and draped it on a nearby chair. He stayed still, his shoulders sloped, his breath deep and slow.

This was its own ritual. Black Mass had just ended, a late-night edition. You prepared the clothing, ensuring everything was ready for the next mass. With that came undressing Papa after each one.

You started a job that once made you blush, but now the routine and his quirks were familiar.

He was quiet today.

“Ready, Papa?”

A nod. No words.

You unzipped the back of his black robe, the orange and gold detail catching in the soft light of the vestry. The fabric was lush, soft in your hands as you pulled it from him.

You expected him to step out in his undershirt and trousers and dismiss you as usual. Instead, he lingered, watching as you hung the robe.

“Something you need, Papa?”

“Eh, actually — yes. Yes, I had something to ask of you.” He shuffled his feet, fiddling with his hands. Copia was looking at you now, tiredness in his eyes. “It is… you can say no, of course.”

Papa was obviously nervous, which made your own chest bloom with a strange kind of anxiety. He always seemed to be a ball of nerves,

“A cuddle. Would you… would you have a cuddle with me?” He nearly cringed at his own words, turning his head away from you. “It doesn’t— we don’t have to—“

Your mind raced as he stammered. This was not a request to deny. Papa was asking, and you couldn’t say no.

That’s how you ended up beneath his crushed blue velvet duvet, waiting for him. He hadn’t expected you to say yes, so delight lit his face. He quickly took your hand, leading you to his quarters.

You shakily slipped off your habit, setting it aside so you wore only a camisole and underwear. He unbuttoned and slid off his slacks, leaving himself in tight black boxers. You’d seen him scantily clad before, but now, knowing you were about to share a bed, your skin buzzed with anticipation.

To your surprise, any earlier awkwardness seemed to have disappeared when Papa left the vestry. His movements were now smooth as he walked around the bed, a small smile resting on his lips as he prepared to join you.

“I’ve needed this.”

The bed dipped as he dropped his knee, crawling in beside you. His skin, already flushed, felt warm against yours. A breath caught in your throat when his arm wound around your middle, tugging you close.

How good it felt to be held by him. His frame was strong, yet comfortable. His hand drifted up your arm, fingers circling your wrist. You sighed deeply, your body shuddering with sudden comfort.

“Oh. I didn’t take you to be the ‘big spoon’ kind of guy.” Mentally, you facepalmed at how casual you sounded.

Papa chuckled into your neck. “There’s a lot that’s unknown about me, tesoro.” His words held surprising weight. You spent so much time with him, yet do you really know him? It was your duty to serve—to dress and undress him for each mass.

Is he different behind closed doors?

He was already proving it.

You settled into him as his fingers laced with yours. “I’ve needed this. Some downtime with another.” His breath ghosted the sensitive skin behind your ear. “It’s a lonely job. If you’ve ever wondered.”

Silence stretched.

You’re welcome.

YOU BETTER STOP BITCH STOP AA A AAA AA AH

An amazing gift came our way from the almighty @thebandghost. Massive donation to our cause with stage played guitars, dressing room warm up amps, strings and straps! Big love to Tobias and the entire Ghost camp for this. It means the world to myself, the instructors and all of our rock star students. Thank you! 🤘🏻👻🙏🏻

📸: letthereberockga

For a Ghost fan, it’s probably a bit more interesting [to hear Idolatrine] than hearing you play, for example, “Enter Sandman”.

(Silence) Tell me, why do you think we’re playing “Enter Sandman” live on this tour?

Because it’s a killer song, your version is great and everyone will sing along?

Nooooo bleh :ppppp

“Ah, eh oh er, hello? Uh…”