Hello!!! Itās me!!!!! I drew this for my darling dear husband @forestthechonkykitty, his OC Elizabeth and Papa Primo as ponies :3c theyāre so so sweet and I love them so much Iām just ueueue
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The fic I mentioned when answering asks in my last post. I associate so many songs with these characters, it's not even funny. Primo is a shameless enjoyer of 'edgy' rock, which is what he's doing in this fic as he crashes out a bit.
No Sexual Warnings ā° Angst ā° Hurt And Comfort ā° Music Assisted Crashout ā° Primo Has Enough Self Doubt To Kill An Elephant
Primo lay quietly on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The day had been exhausting; Secondo was feeling unwell, so Primo had to take V to physical therapy, then he came home to evening mass, and that was on top of his usual duties of cooking, tending the gardens, leading his dear little study group, checking in on the soup kitchen, and, this time of year, he was practically drowning in paperwork. He desperately needed a break.
So, now, at almost half past midnight, he held his headphones tightly over his ears, racing thoughts drowned out by Counting Crowsā¦
So why'd you come homeā¦ to this faithless townā¦
"I didn't have a choice," He mumbled sadly. Nihil and Lily were far too ill and dysfunctional to care for Primo's younger brothers. He tasted so many things out touring as Papa, but he was back homeā¦ bound to home. The ministry depended on him, even now, when he hadn't had a place in the band in nearly a decade.
Where we make a lifetime commitmentā¦ To recovering the satellitesā¦
Is that all his life would be? Crushed under the inescapable weight of the ministry's expectations? The duties of being the eldest Emeritus? Dogged devotion to giving his brothers the life he'd never get to live, and that needing to be enough?
And all anybody really wants to know is 'when are you gonna come down?'
Primo screwed his eyes shut, tears threatening to fall.
We only stay in orbitā¦ For a moment of timeā¦
And out of everybody's satellitesā¦
I wish that you were mineā¦
Just a momentā¦ A single, fleeting life, and not a moment of it belonging to him. Every thread of his soul was tied off elsewhere, not a single one left up to his own choosingā¦ He popped out the CD before the song had even finished, putting another in and lying back against his pillows.
I'm passing sleeping citiesā¦
Fading by degreesā¦
And believing all I see to be soā¦
Primo glanced out the window, watching as the handful of night drivers made their way down the road. He longed so deeply to be one of them, disappear silently and be thousands of miles away by morning, when his absence would be discovered.
I'm flyin' over backyardsā¦
Country homes and ranchesā¦
Watching life between the branches belowā¦
Flying awayā¦ Wouldn't that be niceā¦
You keep running for another placeā¦
To find that saving graceā¦
"If only I could run and searchā¦"
He listened to the rest of the song, then album, in silence. Without much thought, he started a third album.
I walk a lonely roadā¦
The only one that I have ever knownā¦
Don't know where it goesā¦
But it's home to me, and I walk aloneā¦
He was there for everyone, but who would be there for him? A bit of hope fluttered in his stomach, his girlfriend Elizabeth flickering across his mind, but he quickly shoved it aside. She would give up, he knew it. He was too busy. Too spent. Too old, too tied downā¦ She deserved better.
Read between the linesā¦
What's fucked up, and everything's alrightā¦
Check my vital signsā¦
To know I'm still alive, and I walk aloneā¦
One tear fell, then another, silently pouring down Primo's face, soaking into the pillow. He fell into a fitful sleep, headphones still on, music still playing.
Elizabeth tossed and turned, trying to sleep in her room. Something twisted in her stomach, and she threw off her covers and crept up to Primo's chambers.
"Love?" She pushed open the door and frowned, immediately noticing the teartracks marring his paints. She frowned, walking lightly over to him and thumbing over his cheek. He whimpered softly, nuzzling her palm.
She sat on the bed, carefully untangling his hair from the headphones and pulling them off of his ears so he wouldn't wake up sore. He shifted, muttering something in his sleep.
"Shhā¦ It's alright. Just Elizabeth, your Elizabeth."
She tried to put the Walkman and headphones on the bedside table, but Primo was lying on the cordā¦ She very carefully put the headphones on the goat plushie she had gotten him, and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. A bit nervously, she lay beside him in bed.
Dawn broke, and Primo was still sleeping. Elizabeth whispered a good morning, then made her way down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Eggs, biscuits, sausageā¦ Maybe gravy? She would ask V what he thought.
***
Primo awoke with a start when the scent of breakfast flooded his nostrils, panicking even more when he realized how bright it was. He felt for his headphones, confused as to why they weren't on his headā¦ He glanced down at the bed and saw them perched neatly on Baphy, the goat Elizabeth had gotten him from the zoo. But howā¦
"Good morning! You were sleeping well, I didn't want to wake you up. I made breakfast! Here's yours, mind if I eat with you?"
"Liz..?"
"Yep."
"Did you..?" Primo was desperately trying to piece together what had happened the night before.
"I just got a feelingā¦ I can't explain it. I took your headphones off so your ears wouldn't get sore, I hope that was alrightā¦ The album ended before I got to you. I promise, I didn't cut off your Green Day."
"You stayed..?"
"I didā¦ I'm sorry I didn't ask. It really worried me when I came up here and saw you'd been cryingā¦"
Primo looked in the mirror and cringed; he hadn't expected his paints to tattle on him quite this bad.
"I knowā¦ I know you worry a lot. About a lot of things," Elizabeth said, placing his breakfast plate in his lap. "But I don't want you to worry about being too much for me. Or being abandoned. I love you."
She smiled shyly, sitting on the bed beside him. He was silent, picking at his food.
"I mean it. I love you, Paul. I always will."
"Why? Why would you, and how?" He said bitterly, gripping his fork tightly.
"Because. You're kind, loving, gentleā¦ You have such a wonderful soul, dear, and your love for your brothers and your garden is so beautifulā¦ And I've never felt so loved by anyoneā¦ I wouldn't trade it for the world."
Primo squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to cry.
"I want to help you, alright? Doing this on your own is killing you."
"Lizā¦"
"I mean it." Elizabeth chewed and swallowed a bite of her breakfast. "Want a bath later? After breakfast, maybe?"
"I need to sort out V's therapyā¦ And check on Secondo, get Copia and Terzo their medicationsā¦ Terzo has the fluā¦"
"Secondo is feeling much better and is driving V; he said he thinks it was allergies that made him sick. Copia took his with breakfast, and Terzo tried to avoid his but he wasn't successful. Took them after."
"What about Nihil?"
"He ate. And Lily, too. And I checked Nihil's cast, it's not wet."
As the eldest Emeritus, it is Primo's duty to produce an unholy heir to the papacy. What better way than to call upon Lucifer himself to aid in conception?
Ritual Play ā° Knife Play ā° Blood Play ā° Pregnancy (Implied) ā° Bondage ā° PIV Sex ā° Vaginal Knife Insertion ā° The Stained Glass Is A Paid Actor
Elizabeth struggled against the chains binding her to the chapel's altar, eyes glinting in the scant moonlight flitting in through the high, arched windows. She stared up at the one nearest her head, the intricate depiction of hell turning the light across her face a vibrant range of yellows, oranges, reds, and even greys.
"Be still, child. Embrace the fate thou hast brought upon thyself."
Primo's voice echoed eerily through the vast, empty room, words ringing through the vaults like the beating wings of a trapped, frantic bird. Elizabeth raised her head, watching impatiently as her Papa drifted slowly towards her. His robes barely skimmed the ground and his white eye glowed brightly enough to obscure the colors cast by the windows, giving him an almost spectral quality. When she felt his vast, clawed hand upon her bare stomach, she couldn't suppress a shiver.
"What is it that you fear?"
"Nothing but the wrath of our Unholy Father."
"Then why do you tremble before me, as a fawn before the hunter?"
Elizabeth lay silent, feeling Primo's gnarled fingers running over her body. A soft whine caught in her throat as he slipped one between her folds, rubbing gently over her clit.
"A perfect sacrifice," He whispered, head bowed, hushed voice full of reverence. His hand was replaced with a gleaming dagger, dragging a straight, practiced line from the base of her throat, between her breasts, and ending at her navel. Blood welled along the cut, yet Elizabeth did not complain, merely waiting for what she knew would come next.
He traced her ribs, just beneath the root of her breast, with the sharp tip of his knife.
"Great Lord Belowā¦" He began, voice a low, rumbling purr as he went over the first line again, pressing deeper, blood running out of the gash. Elizabeth tried to keep herself from squirming, but the agony was too great.
"Accept the blood of my darkest lambā¦" He cut beneath her breasts again, blood running down her abdomen as her chest heaved.
"As a sacrifice worthy of your unholy gratitude."
He nudged the tip beneath the hood of her clit, pressing gently into her, using his other hand to hold her bound body still.
"Grant to us a son, to serve you long after we ourselves have perished."
He dragged the dagger slightly downward, hovering just over her dripping cunt.
"Allow us the final step of our eternal union."
He plunged the knife deep into Elizabeth's hole, slowly pulling it back out. Blood ran out of her, flowing across the cold stone and dripping down onto the worn wooden floors.
Primo's eyes locked with hers as he licked the blood from the knife, then tossed it carelessly to the side. He hiked his robes over his hips, crawling onto the altar atop Elizabeth with a soft growl, stuffing his full length into her slick, bleeding cunt. She wailed like a dying animal, a new wave of anguish tearing through her with each wild, desperate thrust. Primo's nails dug into her hips as he held them to force himself deeper, sent into a frenzy by the blood and tears smeared across Elizabeth's body.
He came with a hiss, eyes glowing, and the hard, final thrust was all Elizabeth could take. Her teary eyes rolled back, body falling slack against the altar. Primo stayed inside her for a moment, panting, then slowly pulled his length out of her. A pinkish mix of blood and cum leaked from her, and deep crimson blood dripped from Primo's cock. Elizabeth gave a tiny, fluttering moan and tried to shift, but she was too sore.
"Well done, child." Primo cooed, dropping his stained, wet robes and caressing her cheek, smearing her own blood over her porcelain skin. Her grey eyes cracked open, staring up at him with murky adoration.
"He is pleased," She whispered, trying to untangle herself from her bindings. Primo unfastened the chains around her wrist and she dragged her hand to her stomach. "Our prayer has been answered."
