silly papa memes

Since Primo took his ascension to the papacy, Cardinal Secondo had started thinking about the future. More specifically, the legacy he was going to leave behind. It was a shift you noticed almost immediately—small at first, just a tightening of his features when he spoke of his brother, a tension in his hands when he held you. But soon it had grown into something heavier, something that weighed on him in quiet moments and filled the silence between you.

You sit across from him now, the low light of the candle flickering between you as you watch him, his brow furrowed, eyes distant. The usual fire that burned behind those stormy irises seemed dimmed lately, as though the weight of his thoughts had stolen it away. His hand rested on the glass of wine beside him, untouched, fingers tracing the rim absent-mindedly. He hadn’t said much in the last hour, his mind clearly elsewhere.

“Secondo?” you murmur softly, reaching out across the table to lay your hand atop his. It’s a small gesture, but it pulls him from whatever spiral of thoughts had him captive. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see that flicker of warmth return.

“Hm?” His voice is deep, gravelly, but softer when he speaks to you. It’s always been like that—rough around the edges, but with a tenderness reserved only for you.

“Where are you?” you ask, squeezing his hand gently.

He sighs, running his free hand through his dark hair. “Right here,” he replies, though you know it’s only half true. His gaze drifts again, and after a moment, he speaks, his voice quieter, thoughtful. “Primo… he’s secured his place, you know. His ascension, his legacy. And what have I done?” He chuckles, but it’s a hollow sound, lacking any real humour. “Nothing but stand in his shadow.”

You frown at that. It wasn’t like him to talk this way—to compare himself so openly to his brothers. He was always the proud, stubborn one, the one who walked his own path without looking back. But Primo’s rise had shifted something deep within him, something that gnawed at his sense of purpose.

“Secondo…” You stand and move around the table, slipping into the seat beside him. Your hand lifts to cup his cheek, turning his face towards you. “You’ve built your own legacy. Look at everything you’ve accomplished—everything we’ve accomplished.” Your thumb brushes gently across the stubble on his jawline. “Don’t let Primo’s path make you question yours.”

He leans into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment, as though savouring the reassurance you offer. When he opens them again, the vulnerability is still there, lingering behind that hard exterior. “I just… what will they remember of me, when it’s all said and done?” he asks quietly. “I don’t want to be forgotten.”

You shake your head, your heart tightening at his words. “You won’t be forgotten,” you tell him firmly. “You’re unforgettable, Secondo. Not just to the Clergy, but to me. You’ve left a mark, whether you see it or not.”

A faint smile tugs at his lips, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You always know how to talk sense into me, don’t you?” He presses a kiss to your palm before taking your hand in his, his grip firm but comforting.

“It’s the truth,” you reply softly. “And whatever comes next, I’ll be right here beside you.”

Secondo’s gaze softens, and for the first time that evening, the tension in his shoulders seems to ease. He reaches out, pulling you closer until you’re nestled against his chest, his arms wrapping around you in a rare, unguarded moment of intimacy. His chin rests atop your head, and you hear the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your ear, grounding you both.

“Thank you,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned back, capturing your lips with his in a heated kiss. The world around you faded, leaving only the warmth of his body beneath you as you straddled his lap, your thighs pressing against him. It was a bold move, one that sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you.

Pulling away slightly, he fixed you with a heated gaze, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “You know, Primo doesn’t have any children yet,” he mused, his breath hot against your skin. “Maybe we should get on with it.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, a wicked glint that sent a jolt of desire straight through you.

Your heart raced at the implication, the raw, primal need for his seed mixing with the thrill of his proposition. “Get on with what exactly?” you teased, though your body betrayed you, arching closer to him, eager for the tension that crackled in the air.

He chuckled, the sound low and sultry. “You know what I mean. It’s about time I leave my mark.” His hands slid down your back, gripping your hips as he shifted beneath you, the growing hardness between his legs pressing against your core. “What better way than to fill you up, to ensure there’s a little bit of me running around?”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the idea igniting a fire within you. You’d imagined this moment before—the thrill of being taken, of being claimed in the most primal way. You bit your lip, a sly smile forming as you leaned in closer, your voice low. “You want to breed me, then?”

“Absolutely,” he said, the heat in his gaze intensifying. “I want to see you round with my child, filled with what’s mine.” His grip tightened on your hips, pulling you down onto him, urging you to feel the hard evidence of his desire. “I want everyone to know you belong to me.”

The suggestion hung heavy in the air, a heady mix of lust and longing. The thought of being filled with his seed, of carrying a part of him, drove you wild. “Then let’s not waste any more time,” you whispered, your voice laced with urgency.

His lips crashed against yours once more, and you felt the world around you fade again. You were entirely in his grasp, and as he began to grind against you, the line between need and want blurred.

Secondo’s kiss grew more demanding, his lips bruising against yours as his hands gripped your hips with an almost possessive force. He shifted beneath you, his hardness pressing insistently against your core, the friction sending waves of pleasure through you. His breath came hot and fast as he broke the kiss, leaning back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with hunger.

“You’re going to take it all,” he growled, his voice low, dangerous, and thick with intent. “Every last drop. And when I’m done, you’ll be dripping with me.” His hands slipped under your shirt, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer, your bodies flush against each other.

You let out a soft gasp, the primal heat of his words curling low in your belly, sparking that urgent desire that had been building between you. His hands roamed your body, rough but precise, as though he was laying claim to every inch of you. And in that moment, you were his—completely and utterly.

“I want to watch it take,” he rasped, his lips brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I want to see you swollen, round with my child. And every time you look in the mirror, you’ll remember that I put it there.”

Your breath hitched at his words, your body responding instinctively to the raw, animalistic need coursing through him. You could feel his cock twitch beneath you, the promise of what he would do pushing you further into that primal state of mind. You wanted him inside you, to be filled, stretched, and claimed in the most intimate way.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice breathy, pleading. You rolled your hips against him, feeling the hard length of him through his trousers, desperate for more. “I need you, Secondo.”

Secondo’s eyes darkened further at your words, a growl escaping his throat as he lifted you effortlessly from his lap. His hands were firm, commanding, as he carried you to the bed, the intensity in his gaze never wavering. He laid you down on the mattress with a swift motion, his body immediately following, hovering over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

“You need me?” he rasped, his voice dripping with dominance as he settled between your thighs, the heat of his body pressing into yours. “Then you’ll have me.” His hands were everywhere—rough and possessive—peeling away your clothes with swift, eager movements until you were bare beneath him, exposed and vulnerable to his every whim.

His lips found your neck, biting and sucking at your skin, leaving marks as he worked his way down your body. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them apart, spreading you open for him as he settled between your legs. He paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on you, taking in the sight of you laid out before him.

“You look perfect like this,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, thick with lust. “Ready to be filled. Ready to take everything I give you.” His fingers trailed down your thigh, brushing over your slick heat, teasing you until you squirmed beneath him.

Without warning, he thrust two fingers inside you, a guttural moan escaping your lips at the sudden intrusion. He moved them with precision, curling and twisting, making sure you were soaked, ready for what was to come. The rhythm of his hand quickened, coaxing your pleasure from you until your hips bucked, desperate for more.

Secondo’s fingers continued their relentless assault, plunging in and out of you with a practised rhythm that left you gasping for breath. His touch was precise, the pads of his fingers grazing against that perfect spot inside you, making your body arch off the mattress with every stroke. The wet sound of his fingers moving inside you filled the room, mingling with the soft, desperate moans escaping your lips.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice thick with satisfaction. “I can feel how ready you are. You’re going to take it all so well, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, nodding, unable to form words as his fingers curled inside you, pressing harder against that spot that made your vision blur. He increased the pace, his other hand gripping your thigh to hold you still as he fucked you with his fingers, his thumb brushing over your clit in maddening, teasing circles.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as he leaned down, his lips ghosting over your ear. “So fucking desperate. You’ll take whatever I give you, won’t you?”

Your hips bucked against his hand, seeking more, the need to be filled overwhelming every other thought. “Please,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper, your body trembling beneath him. “I need more.”

Secondo’s dark chuckle vibrated through you, his fingers still thrusting, twisting, bringing you closer to the edge with every movement. “You’ll come on my fingers first,” he growled, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, circling faster. “Then I’ll give you what you need.”

The tension coiled tighter and tighter within you, your body writhing under his touch as the pleasure built to a nearly unbearable height. His fingers quickened, fucking you with ruthless precision, his thumb never relenting, pushing you closer to the brink.

“Come for me,” he demanded, his voice low, commanding. “Now.”

It was all too much, the pressure finally breaking as your orgasm crashed over you, your muscles clenching around his fingers, your body shuddering violently beneath him. You cried out, your nails digging into his arms as the wave of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling.

But Secondo didn’t stop. Even as you came, he kept his fingers deep inside you, drawing out every last tremor, every aftershock, until you were a quivering mess beneath him. He pulled his fingers out slowly, savouring the sight of your slickness coating them.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and satisfied as he brought his fingers to his lips, licking them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. “But we’re just getting started.”

Secondo’s gaze was dark and unrelenting, watching your body tremble beneath him, still sensitive from your release. Without a word, he stood up, his hands going to the buttons of his cassock. Slowly, methodically, he began to strip, his eyes never leaving yours as each layer of his robes fell away, revealing the powerful body beneath.

He knew what he was doing, teasing you with the slow reveal of his skin, making you wait in anticipation. His movements were deliberate, controlled, his cock hard and thick as it sprang free from his trousers. He stroked himself lazily, watching the way your eyes followed every movement, your breath hitching with anticipation.

“You want this, don’t you?” His voice was low, a dark promise laced with the growl in his tone. He stepped closer to the bed, standing over you as his hand stroked his cock, the head already glistening with pre-cum. “You want to be filled by me. You want me to fuck you so deep you’ll still feel it tomorrow.”

You could only nod, your body arching towards him, desperate for his touch, for the weight of him pressing you into the mattress. The tension between you was thick, every second of waiting only amplifying the need that coursed through your veins.

Secondo climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide as he lowered himself over you. His cock brushed against your entrance, teasing, the slickness of your arousal coating the tip as he pressed just enough to make you squirm.

“Are you ready for me?” he rasped, his breath hot against your neck as his fingers wrapped around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse quicken. “Ready to take me inside? To be bred like you’re meant to be?”

You whimpered, nodding as his grip on your throat tightened slightly, the sensation making your core clench in anticipation. The primal need to be filled, to have him inside you, overwhelmed everything else. “Yes,” you gasped. “Please, Secondo. I need you.”

A wicked smile curled his lips, and without another word, he thrust into you in one smooth, powerful motion, filling you completely. The stretch was immediate, intense, as your body adjusted to the sheer size of him. His cock buried deep, and the sensation of being completely filled sent a shudder through you.

Secondo paused for a moment, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to make you gasp, his eyes locked on yours as he held you there, pinned beneath him. “You feel that?” he growled, his voice thick with lust. “That’s what you’ve been craving. Being filled, claimed. And I’m going to give you more than you can handle.”

He began to move, pulling out slowly, teasingly, before slamming back into you with a force that left you breathless. Each thrust was deliberate, deep, hitting that perfect spot inside you with an intensity that made your toes curl. His hand remained on your throat, controlling the pressure, keeping you in that delicate balance between pleasure and submission.

The friction was overwhelming, the way his cock stretched you with every thrust, driving deeper and deeper, filling you in a way that made your mind spin. Secondo’s other hand gripped your hip, holding you still as he fucked you with an almost punishing pace, each thrust harder, more desperate, as though he was determined to make you feel every inch of him.

“You’re going to take all of me,” he rasped, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he watched the way your body responded to him. “Every last drop. I’m going to fill you so full, you won’t be able to think about anything else. You’ll be dripping with me, swollen with my child.”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, the primal desire to be bred consuming every thought. You could feel the tension building in your core again, that tight coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter with every thrust, his cock slamming into you with a rhythm that was as precise as it was brutal.

His hand around your throat tightened just a little more, not enough to hurt, but enough to make your breath catch, to make the world blur at the edges. The sensation only heightened your pleasure, the mixture of control and submission driving you closer to the edge.

“Come for me,” he growled, his thumb pressing against the hollow of your throat, his cock hitting deep inside you. “Come while I fill you. I want to feel you tighten around me, milk me dry.”

His words were the final push you needed, the pressure inside you snapping as your orgasm crashed through you. Your body clenched around him, your muscles contracting as waves of pleasure ripped through you, your breath coming in ragged gasps beneath his grip. The sensation was overwhelming, the intensity of it heightened by the way his cock filled you completely, by the control he had over you.

Secondo didn’t stop as your orgasm wracked your body. If anything, the way you clenched around his cock only seemed to spur him on. He growled low in his throat, his hips snapping against yours in rough, unrelenting thrusts. He watched you with a dark satisfaction, his hand still wrapped around your throat, keeping you teetering on the edge of breathlessness.

But then, he slowed just enough to pull out of you, your body immediately missing the fullness, the heat of him. Before you could protest, his strong hands gripped your hips, flipping you over onto your stomach. You barely had time to catch your breath before he yanked you up onto your hands and knees, positioning you the way he wanted, his cock hard and glistening as it pressed against your entrance again.

“You look perfect like this,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he reached for your hair, twisting his hand into it and pulling your head back with a firm, possessive tug. The angle forced your back into a deep arch, your body exposed and open for him, exactly how he wanted you. “Made to be fucked like an animal. Made to be bred.”

With one swift motion, he slammed back into you, deeper than before, his cock hitting you at a different angle that made stars explode behind your eyes. The rough stretch sent a cry from your lips, but it was swallowed by the sound of his ragged breathing and the slap of skin against skin.

His thrusts were merciless now, his grip on your hair tight, pulling you back onto his cock with every brutal thrust. The sound of it—of him, of you—filled the room, raw and primal. His free hand slid down your back, nails dragging across your skin before gripping your waist, holding you in place as he pounded into you relentlessly.

“You’re going to take everything I give you,” he growled, his voice low and gravelly in your ear as he pulled your head back further, your scalp tingling from the force of his grip. “Every drop of me, filling you, making you mine. You’ll be swollen with my child, marked by me.”

His words sent another surge of heat through you, your body trembling under the force of his dominance, the possessiveness of his tone. You could feel yourself spiraling towards another release, the tension building rapidly as his cock drove into you with a punishing rhythm. Every thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, each one harder, deeper, as if he was determined to make you feel him for days.

“Fuck, you feel so tight,” he rasped, his voice strained as he tugged on your hair again, pulling your body back against his, the slap of his hips against your ass loud and unforgiving. “You were made for this. Made to be fucked and filled. I’ll breed you again and again, until you’re swollen with my legacy.”

His hand on your waist slid down, fingers finding your clit as he began to rub tight circles against the sensitive nub, driving you closer to the edge with every stroke. You could feel your body responding, your muscles tightening around him, the pressure building inside you until it was almost unbearable.

“I want you to come again,” he growled, his breath hot against the back of your neck as he leaned over you, his hand tugging your hair harder, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. “I want you to come while I fill you, while I claim you.”

His words, his rough touch, the way his cock filled you over and over—it was too much. The coil of pleasure inside you snapped, and you came with a cry, your body clenching tightly around him, spasming as wave after wave of intense pleasure tore through you. Your vision blurred, and the only thing that kept you grounded was the feeling of him, his cock still pounding into you, his grip in your hair, his words dripping with lust.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice strained as your orgasm milked his cock, your walls clamping down around him. “Good girl. Now, take it. Take all of me.”

With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock twitching as he released, filling you with his seed. You could feel the heat of it, the way he pulsed inside you, his body pressed against yours as he spilled everything he had into you. His grip on your hair loosened, but his other hand held your hips tightly, keeping you in place as he emptied himself into you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, his chest pressed against your back, both of you panting, bodies spent but still connected. You could feel his cum leaking from you, a reminder of how full he had made you, of what he had promised.

Finally, he released your hair, his hand sliding down to caress your back in a short moment of tenderness. He pulled out of you slowly, his seed spilling from your body as he did, the emptiness almost jarring after the intensity of being so full.

As the aftershocks of your shared release began to fade, you felt Secondo’s hand slide gently over your back, grounding you in the aftermath of what had just transpired. He lingered there, his breathing gradually slowing, his chest rising and falling heavily. When he finally drew away, there was a lingering sense of warmth in the way his fingers traced your skin, a rare tenderness surfacing just beneath his commanding exterior.

Slowly, he helped you turn over onto your back, the intensity of his gaze softened now, though there was still a flicker of pride and satisfaction in his eyes as he looked down at you. He adjusted the rumpled blankets beneath you, a subtle but genuine gesture, before he stretched out beside you, one arm possessively curling around your waist as he pulled you close.

Without a word, he tucked you against his chest, his breathing rhythmic and steady as his fingers idly traced patterns along your shoulder. Exhausted and blissfully content, you nestled into his warmth, letting your head rest against him as the weight of sleep began to settle in. Secondo’s hand continued its slow, comforting movements, his presence grounding you, marking the end of an unforgettable night with an unspoken promise of more.

“Sleep, cara mia,” he murmured, voice low and soothing, his breath brushing against your hair. “You’ll need your strength.”

And with that, you drifted off in his embrace, the memories of his words, his touch, and the possessive look in his eyes lingering as you slipped into sleep.

Out beyond the summer gardens, there is a seldomly walked path. It twists and turns around broken trees, large boulders, and the placid waters of a glacial lake. There’s nothing important on the path anymore, or at least that’s what the upper clergy tells its youngest siblings, but the footpath is dangerous. It’s been decades since the ministry diverted funds away from maintaining it to build a straighter and safer walkway from the Abbey down to the lake’s oftused beachfront. Any markers that used to stand along the old route are long gone and the only indication a path used to exist at all are the faint traces of gravel that peek out from blankets of fallen leaves and overgrown grass. 

Most sane people avoid the old path. It’s not worth the risk they say. But every morning two creatures, one man and one ghoul, walk that crooked and crumbling path and neither is afraid…because they both know a secret. That at the very end of the path lies the most magical place on the Abbey’s grounds. 

The sun was still asleep as Secondo and Alpha walked along the forgotten pathway until they reached a chapel. Although it should be noted the chapel didn’t look much like a place of worship. It much better resembled an ancient ruin. Only three stone walls remained standing. Two were at half their original height and the third somehow still towered over Secondo’s head. There was no door. It had rotted away centuries ago, and the floor made of stone, was covered in a layer of dark green moss that was so thick it felt like a heavily weighted carpet underfoot. The only piece of furniture left in the ruins was an altar that had been crafted long ago from beautifully marbling petrified wood. But despite its well-worn appearance, when Secondo found this place years ago he immediately knew it was special. He could feel it in the air.  

Anyone who enters the Abbey, whether they are a follower of the Dark Lord or not, can feel dark magic around them. It’s often been described as an incorporeal haze. Although unseen, it lingers in every corner of the building and sits a bit heavy around you. In certain places, like the crypts and the ghoul dens, the haze is stronger. You can feel it physically. It brushes against your skin like a soft summer breeze or the flutter of silk bedsheets. But in all his years living in the Abbey Secondo never found anywhere where the haze was as strong as it was in the old chapel. 

So it’s here that every morning Secondo comes to start his day, to offer his thanks, and to hope that maybe today will be the day the Dark Lord finally speaks to him. Normally each morning in the crumbling chapel is the same. Secondo kneels before the altar repeats a round of prayers and offers any confession he deems necessary. Alpha kneels quietly beside Secondo and speaks only when spoken to. Any prayer the fire ghoul makes to his Lord is a silent one. This routine never changes. Every day is the same. 

But the morning after your stunt in Secondo’s bedroom, things went differently. Before Secondo could kneel Alpha was apologizing, spilling out words faster than Secondo could acknowledge them. 

“I’m so sorry about last night Papa. I didn’t want to disobey you. I should have never allowed it. I didn’t mean to offend-” Secondo held up a gloved hand and the fire ghoul caught his tongue. 

“It’s fine, Alpha.” 

The ghoul’s eyes snapped from the mossy ground up to his master, “Really? You’re not upset?” 

“Really,” Secondo answered truthfully. “I asked you to make sure she wanted for nothing and you did as I asked. I cannot be upset with you for that.” 

“Thank you, Papa,” Alpha sighed before bowing his horned head and inhaling deeply. Secondo eyed the ghoul carefully, looking over every inch of his guard. Alpha looked tired. Worn down. Exhausted. His shoulders rolled forward and his orange eyes looked more dull than normal. 

Secondo wondered if the fire ghoul was as burnt out as he was. 

Since his summoning two decades ago Alpha had always been a quiet ghoul. He hardly ever initiated conversations with humans and if the whispers around the Abbey were to be taken as truth, Alpha’s silence was born from his deep-seated distaste of human nature. Secondo knew that wasn’t really true but he saw how siblings often gave Alpha a wide berth when they passed him in the halls. He heard the names they called him. Most siblings avoided ghouls. But they practically ran from Alpha. 

Secondo never understood the cruelty. He had never really minded the fire ghoul’s reticence. He’d actually asked Primo for care of Alpha because he liked the ghoul’s quiet nature so much. It didn’t hurt that Alpha was more reliable and trustworthy than any sibling Secondo had ever met. 

And they had an understanding. 

Or so he thought. 

Secondo had always assumed that Alpha enjoyed their quiet moments together and lack of idle chit chat, but looking at the fire ghoul now he was starting to wonder if Alpha’s care was another item to add to his list of failures. Had he ignored signs that Alpha was struggling? Should he have been checking in with him more? Was Alpha suffering in silence like he was? Did he even like being by Secondo’s side? 

“Alpha?” 

“Yes.”

“Are you happy?” 

In all their time together Secondo had never asked Alpha that question. He wondered it many times but self-preservation had always held his tongue. Secondo had faults. He knew that. He wasn’t completely blind. But if Alpha hated him. If he hated his daily life then Secondo might just fall apart. He couldn’t be Papa alone. 

“What do you mean, Papa?” 

Santanas. 

He was going to have to spell it out. Secondo wanted to dig a hole in the moss under his feet and bury himself alive. 

“Are you happy by my side? Do you enjoy your life,” Secondo paused, swallowing against the self-preservation that had somehow turned to ash in his throat, “Do you enjoy your life with me?” 

Alpha blinked.

Secondo knew Ghouls were terrible liars. Something in their design made them brutally honest. It had something to do with being born from the brimstone of His fire. Or maybe it was because they were formed by the make of His hands? Secondo could never quite remember how the story went. Primo had told it to him so long ago when he was just a boy. But Secondo knew that while ghouls could joke and play around… for the most part they spoke plainly when asked direct questions. Normally that was something Secondo admired. He liked honesty. He liked people and creatures who spoke the truth. But right now Secondo wished Alpha was more human than hellspawn. He wished he would lie. He wished for anything but the truth because he knew it would sting. 

“No.” There it was. The answer he knew was coming. The sting hurt more than he’d expected. “No, most days I am not happy with you Papa.” 

Secondo turned away from Alpha and looked at the crumbling chapel wall. He felt like a fool. After so much failure the fire ghoul had been the only thing keeping him grounded. He’d been the only one who’d stood by his side. But now Secondo was realizing that maybe that was a bad thing. Maybe it was selfish to hold on so tight. Maybe he should set Alpha free. After all, why should two people drown in misery when one is far less cruel? 

“Would you like to return to Primo?” 

“No, Papa.” 

“Are you sure?” Secondo asked finding the courage to turn and look at his ghoul. “He will welcome you and your place in the band won’t change unless you want it to.” 

Alpha blinked again and Secondo tried to brace himself for another sting. “I don’t think my life here is about being happy. I know you’re doing important work and I want to be a part of your legacy.” 

Secondo didn’t know what to say. 

He didn’t know if he liked that answer. 

“But I was happy yesterday…” 

…with her. 

Alpha left the final two words unspoken and Secondo was thankful. His self-preservation was already teetering on the brink of collapse and he couldn’t bear to be pushed any further otherwise he’d have to die right here in this run-down place.

Secondo hummed in affirmation before closing his eyes. 

Alpha had been happy with you. 

You. 

Secondo thought of you. 

He thought of your eyes and how differently they had looked at Terzo last night. He thought of how happy and relaxed they’d been, pupils for once not blown wide from anger but instead sparkling with joy. Their iridescent color simply shining. He thought of your hair and how he’d finally seen it free from your veil. He thought of how soft your curls looked falling in waves around your bare shoulders. He thought of your face and how your lips had twisted up into that saccharine smile. A smile he’d never seen before and wondered if he’d ever see again. 

You had been happy. 

Alpha had been happy. 

Everyone in his entire damn room had been happy. 

There had been so much laughter, dancing, and joy. There had been so much happiness so much glee…and then he’d ruined it. Snuffed it out like depriving a flame oxygen. Secondo took a deep breath and tried to push away his own self-loathing. 

He thought of you again and the ache in his chest started to burn. It spread moving from deep in his lungs out until everything burned. Then suddenly Secondo started to cough. He coughed so hard that his eyes watered and Alpha immediately came to his side. A clawed hand gripping his shoulder. 

Secondo waved him off, trying to compose himself but the haze… it had never been this thick in the chapel before. Secondo could feel it sticking to his throat and sliding down into his belly. And then for the first time in his life, Secondo tasted dark magic. It was sweet like honey and floral like roses. 

If only he could have known how he would be chasing that flavor for the rest of his life. 

Apparently, you weren’t just Secondo’s Imperatrix. You were his assistant now too. 

You showed up to Secondo’s office at six am as he’d asked and were greeted with the biggest stack of paperwork you’d ever seen. The daunting thing dwarfed the tiny desk you’d been given and spilled onto the floor and over the carpet in Secondo’s office. There wasn’t much of an order to things and Secondo’s instructions on getting through the pile had been curt. Sign these. Edit this. Transcribe that. 

But truthfully you were thankful he didn’t have much more to say to you. You didn’t want to talk about what happened last night. You’d done enough of your own cross-examination, staying up half the night replaying it over and over and over again in your head while trying and failing to fall asleep. 

You’d nearly let him kiss you. What in the actual fuck had you been thinking? Papa Emeritus the Second. You’d actually let him corner you, and touch you, and tease you, and for some ungodly reason when it was all happening, you had wanted it. You had wanted him. Something in you had shifted and you became an animal motivated solely by the lust of their heat. Warmth had coiled in your belly like a snake and even a cold shower hadn’t been enough to quench what he’d started. Embarrassingly the only thing that eventually helped you get to sleep was the little battery-powered toy you kept in your bedside table. 

In the daylight of his office, knowing that you had made yourself come thinking about Secondo made you squirm. All that teasing had probably meant nothing to him anyway. You were probably just another sister in a long line of siblings he played games with. You felt toyed with like a mouse batted about by a house cat. Embarrassment was creeping in, especially since he hadn’t spent more than a few seconds looking at you since sat down at your new desk. 

Secondo was focused on his own stack of paperwork. While it wasn’t nearly the same size as yours he never seemed to take his eyes off it. He barely even took a second to blink. The man worked like a dog. 

If Secondo wasn’t signing papers he was on the phone. And when he wasn’t on the phone he was writing sermons and speeches and internal documents that were somehow all passed due. He never took a break, stretched his legs, or stopped for a sip of water. With everything expected of him, you started to realize there wasn’t time. There was always more to do, someone to answer to, or something that needed to be fixed. But Secondo was like a machine. He never ran out of steam. All you could do was try your best to keep up and before you knew it half the day was gone. 

Your head was pounding from so much reading and writing that you nearly cried tears of joy when the lunch bells rang. 

“Should I call the kitchens and tell them you’ll be in the dining room shortly, Papa?” 

You stood up for the first time in hours and walked around the desk, feeling the stiffness in your legs from sitting for so long. Secondo finally looked up from his work and his mismatched eyes met yours.

“No, I’m not hungry. Just bring me a cup of coffee and some water from the dining hall,” he replied coldly before turning back to his papers. You nodded and scurried out of his office thankful to finally look at anything besides the horde of papers. 

As you walked through the Abbey toward the dining hall you spotted Mountain as he tended to some of the Abbey’s ficus trees in the main hall. With a pair of sheers in his hand, he looked up and offered you a warm smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. 

“Hey, little flower. How’s your head?” 

“Ugh,” you groaned posting up against the cool stone wall as you watched him primp and prune the small tree. “I don’t know why Alpha likes absinthe. I felt like there were bees in my head this morning.” 

Mountain chuckled before setting down his sheers and picking up a water canister at his feet. “Well, I had a great time. Dew won’t shut up about it either. Says he wants you to throw him a birthday party next week.” 

“Wasn’t his birthday last month?” 

“Yeah,” Mountain said moving further down the hall to another cluster of trees that needed watering, “but he said the one we threw him was lame.”  

“What?!” you cried following Mountain as he inspected the soil, digging his large fingers into one of the ficus’s pots. “He literally rode a bear!”

“I know! That’s exactly what I said. Little guy’s never satisfied,” he said shaking his head. “But anyway, how are you? Or maybe a better question is how much trouble are you in with Papa?” 

You paused for a moment and watched Mountain work. His fingertips idly traced the soft petals of a ficus tree inspecting it for rot and insect damage. It was amazing how such a large creature could care for something so fragile. 

“None,” you answered.“ I think Papa promoted me.” 

Mountain’s fingers froze over the leaves before he turned to look at you fully. “He what?” 

“I’m his assistant now I guess. He asked me to come to his office this morning and I’ve just been doing paperwork since. I was headed to get him some coffee now actually.” 

Even though Mountain was masked and the only sliver of his face you could see were his emerald eyes you could tell he was shocked. His dark green pupils blinked at you slowly, like he was trying to calculate the speed of the earth’s orbit divided by its distance to the sun. 

“You’ve got to be the only person in this place who can get away with what you did last night.” 

“Yeah maybe…” you trailed off before suddenly remembering something important you’d been meaning to ask Mountain. “Hey. While we're here I have a weird question for you. It’s about Primo’s garden.” 

“Shoot, little one.” 

“Have you seen any snakes out there lately?” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen any actually. Pretty sure Primo does some sort of magic to keep them away. Looking for a new pet?”

Apparently, you were going to have to take a trip out to the gardens and ask the old Papa some questions. But that was fine you were overdue for a chat with the eldest Emeritus anyway. 

“Nah. It’s a long story. There’s a lot I need to tell you. But I really need to get going,” you said picking up Mountain’s watering can and handing it back to the big ghoul. “I probably shouldn’t test Papa’s patience anymore after last night.”

“Why don’t you come to the dens tonight? Aeth is cooking and I can make you a batch of the new tea I’ve been working on.” 

“Sure Mount,” you called out over your shoulder already walking toward the dining hall, “See you then.”  

The dining hall was busy. 

Siblings and clergy members piled in from all corners of the Abbey, settling down at the long wooden tables for their midday meal. The room smelled of hearty stew and freshly baked bread. Summer was ending quickly and the kitchen staff had already started to transition from lighter fare to heavier, colder-weather meals. You’d miss the strawberry salads and cold gazpacho but fall was your favorite. Spiced cider, fresh apples from the orchard, warm shepherd's pie, those were the best. 

You grabbed a large tray from the end of the buffet and waited in line. With every minute that passed a quiet pounding started to grow against your temples. 

Thud. Thud.  

Thud. Thud. 

Thud. Thud. 

You could feel it. A migraine was starting to build. The warm food couldn’t come quickly enough. 

As you approached the front of the line, you selected a portion of the hearty stew with chunks of tender venison and root vegetables, a slice of warm crusty bread, and a generous helping of crisp apple slices drizzled with honey. 

“Is that all Sister?” One of the kitchen staff, an older brother with dark hair greying around his ears, asked. 

Thud. Thud.  

Thud. Thud. 

Thud. Thud. 

The pounding in your head grew louder. 

“Actually uh…” you stammered, looking down at your tray and smelling the delicious food. “Can I have a second serving of the same thing?” 

“Sure thing,” the brother replied with a kind smile, ladling another portion of the stew into a second bowl. 

Secondo might get pissed but you were going to bring him back food. If he was anything like you, or even remotely human, you wagered he was sporting a similarly splitting headache. 

You carried the loaded tray before collecting two cups of coffee and two glasses of water from the drink station. Balancing the stacked tray, you navigated through the bustling hall and carefully avoided any wandering feet and stray elbows. But just as you were about to walk out the door a high-pitched voice called your name. 

“Sister… sister wait up.” The corners of Sister Luciana’s lips quirked upward, but her twisted and forced smile didn’t reach her eyes as she jogged over to you. 

“Sister Luciana,” you replied, setting your heavy tray down on a nearby table. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh aren’t you so sweet,” she cooed and you had to bite your lip to keep from rolling your eyes. “I just wanted to see if you’re okay. No one’s seen you in two days and I’ve been so worried about you.” 

Satanas. How fake could one person be? 

“Thank you for your concern, Sister Luciana,” you replied politely, masking your annoyance. “I was under the weather but I’m better now.” 

It’d be a cold day in hell before you’d tell Luciana the truth that you’d blacked out in the catacombs after talking to Lucifer and were held hostage by Papa in his suite for 24 hours. 

“Glad to hear you’re feeling better,” Sister Luciana replied. Her eyes scanned you from head to toe like she was trying to catch the lie on you. “I gotta tell ya I heard some of the younger sisters talking, you know how they like to gossip, and some of them seem to think you’ve been promoted to Secondo’s assistant. There’s no way that’s true right? He wouldn’t choose you for that.” Luciana’s eyes darted from you to the tray and the two servings of stew steaming on it. 

It was people like Luciana who reminded you why you avoided friendships with siblings. Anyone overhearing your conversation probably thought she was a concerned friend. Merely a sweet sister who was worried about you after your prolonged absence. But you knew better. This conversation had nothing to do with you. Luciana only ever looked out for herself. If she was here in the dining room at lunch it meant she wasn’t in Papa’s dining room. She was just worried that someone was taking away her access to Papa. And for a sibling like Luciana power and status were everything. 

“You know how rumors spread like wildfire around here,” you said, forcing a casual laugh. “But who knows what goes on behind Papa’s doors right?”

The skepticism was obvious in Sister Luciana's eyes, but you tried to keep your expression neutral. She smiled at you again and wished you better health. Luckily you were able to slink away without her pestering you further. 

You briskly walked through the halls of the Abbey, the tray heavy in your hands as you made your way back to Secondo's office. The pounding in your head had only gotten worse after talking with Luciana, and with each step, you could feel your pulse beat through your skull. 

When you opened the door to his office, Secondo was in the same place you’d left him, seated at his desk with the big stack of papers in front of him. His brow was still furrowed deep in concentration. 

“I brought you some lunch,” you said, setting the tray down on the tiny open corner of your desk. “I know you asked just for coffee, but they had stew today and it just smelled so good I thought you might want some.” 

For the first time all morning, Secondo looked up from his work. His eyes darted between the tray of warm food and you. 

He stood from his desk and you braced yourself for a reprimanding. You closed your eyes and waited for the fire and fury to rain down on you. 

Thud. Thud.  

Thud. Thud. 

Thud. Thud. 

The pounding in your head shifted to your heart. 

Thud. Thud.  

Thud. Thud. 

Thud. Thud. 

It was going to burst. 

You shot your hand to your chest and rubbed tiny circles trying to massage away the pain. 

But then the cool slide of leather brushed against your chin and you opened your eyes. Pain forgotten, Secondo tilted your face to meet his gaze. You stared into marble white and mossy green. You had expected his eyes to darken the way they did when he was angry, the green becoming nearly black and the white more piercing than an arrow. But Secondo wasn’t looking at you like that. 

He looked thankful, pleased, and dare you say it… glad. 

There was a moment before you remembered to breathe. 

You could smell him. Cologne, spice, and incense. The swirling muddled scent clung to everything. You swallowed it all down but the beast from last night returned and it wanted more. 

To taste… would it be so bad to push forward and just have a taste of him?  

Your lips parted and you breathed in deeply. 

“Thank you,” he said simply, his voice barely above a whisper as his thumb brushed against your cheek. “You didn’t have to bring me this.”

Then without another word, Secondo’s gloved hand slipped from your jaw, he picked up his bowl of stew and returned to his desk. 

Thud. Thud.  

Thud. Thud. 

Thud. Thud. 

As Secondo walked away the pulse in your heart returned to your head. 

You’d almost let him do it again. 

You idiot. 

You foolish and reckless fucking idiot. 

What the fuck was he doing? 

Had he lost his damn mind? 

Between this morning's incident in the chapel and whatever the fuck was happening to him now Secondo needed a minute to just… be. He needed to collect himself. 

He was thankful for the stew. The monotonous motion of simply lifting his spoon from the bowl to his mouth and back again gave him some cover. And he was thankful for it because he was spiraling. His mind was all over the place and if he’d even pretended to go back to his sermon he was sure you would have seen right through him. 

He’d touched you. 

Again. 

He had touched you. 

The same way he had last night and it hadn’t been some kind of power play or show of dominance this time. He’d touched you simply because he’d wanted to thank you but words hadn’t felt like enough. But why… why didn’t words feel like enough? You’d just brought him soup. You hadn’t brought him the moon. 

Last night he had meant to tease you. All he’d wanted was to get you worked up again but somehow he’d ended up touching you. He’d cupped your jaw and slid into your space before even realizing what he was doing. And you looked at him the same way you had just now. 

Your lips had parted, your breath had held, your eyes had softened, pupils growing and darkening, lashes fluttering, cheeks turning red, and you had looked… you had looked just for a moment… just for the smallest sliver of a second like you didn’t hate him. Like he wasn’t a monster. And you had…

No. 

Stop it. 

Focus. 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Secondo cleared his mind and forced himself to concentrate. You weren’t supposed to be a distraction. You were here to learn from him and to serve Him. Whatever tricks his mind was playing on him he would squash. He would bury them inside just like he did so many other of his emotions. He had to remember what was important. What was at stake. 

The catacombs. 

The book. 

His voice. 

His guidance. 

His legacy. 

You were another test. He couldn’t forget that so Secondo ordered himself to focus. He finished his lunch quickly and tried his best to avoid looking at you as he returned to his work… but the ache in his chest persisted, a gnawing hunger that had nothing to do with the stew he had just eaten. 

You sighed as you stared down at a particularly confusing text and Secondo couldn’t take it anymore. He pushed back from his desk. His papers now forgotten and stood abruptly. His chair screeched against the stone floor, echoing loudly in the room. 

He needed air. He needed space. He needed to get away from the suffocating walls that seemed to close in on him every time you were around.

“Papa?” you called out softly. 

Secondo ignored you and stormed past your desk, throwing open the heavy wooden doors to the hall. 

“Hello, son.” 

“Fucking hell!” 

Secondo jumped back from the door. In his jumbled mess of a mind, he’d forgotten about the meeting with his father. He glanced over at the clock above your desk.

Shit. 

He’d forgotten about the meeting he was supposed to have thirty minutes ago. 

“It’s rude enough that you didn’t come to my office on time. Now you’re going to just stand there and block the door. Move boy!” 

Secondo stuttered for a moment before stepping aside, allowing Papa Nihil to enter. Sister Imperator trailed closely behind him, pushing his oxygen tank as it creaked across the floor. In the corner of the room, Secondo saw you jump up from your desk and close the door behind Imperator. He’d forgotten to tell you about this meeting too. 

Shit. 

He hadn’t planned for anyone to be here for this. Meetings with his father never usually went well, and he’d like to spare himself the shame but it was too late to send you away now. 

Nihil and Imperator shuffled past Secondo and sat in the two tufted armchairs by the fireplace. Secondo moved to follow them, standing in front of the fire, and resting his elbow on the mantle. The heat from the flames licked at his back as he looked down at the elder pair. 

Nihil had always been a rotten bastard and a poor excuse for a father. How he’d managed to hold onto so much power in the Clergy, always amazed Secondo. He’d assumed, as did many others, that he would have been cast out of the church many moons ago if it weren’t for Imperator. It was she, he would need to placate today. She was the real power player in the room. 

Through the corner of his eye, Secondo watched as you sat back down at your desk and opened a little black notebook, readying yourself to take notes. He wanted to tell you not to bother. He’d never read them anyway. 

“Your lack of punctuality is concerning, my son,” Papa Nihil rasped, his voice muffled through the mask he held against his face. “Let’s hope you haven’t forgotten what we’ve come to discuss.” 

“I haven’t forgotten. I’ve been working hard on it. Last night I finished a new song. It’s called-” Imperator raised a hand silencing Secondo. 

“The clergy has concerns Papa. Have you reconsidered their offer?” 

If anyone else in the Abbey besides Imperator had asked that question Secondo would have barked out a list of insults so vile Satan would have blushed. 

“I understand,” Secondo said, forcing his tone to remain composed. “But I think the album is headed in a much better direction than the last time we spoke. Last night I-” 

“I don’t understand why he even needs to write a new album. Why can’t he just sing my songs and a few of his brothers? Wasn’t that the whole point of sending him out on that little tour last month? To see if this stronzo’s could even sing?” As Nihil prattled on Secondo glanced over at you, hoping to catch your eye, but you were too busy scribbling away in your notebook to notice him.

Imperator sighed loudly and Secondo looked back at the elder pair sitting before him. 

“You know why we need a new album, Nihil,” she scolded. “We need more followers. And new music is the best way to do that. It’s also why we have concerns over your album, Secondo. How will we attract more people to join us if your album is full of morose and macabre dronings? The clergy simply thinks a little outside collaboration will help spice things up. Help lift the veil a bit. Do you understand?” 

Secondo clenched his jaw and tried to swallow the boiling rage that threatened to spill over. The nerve of them to suggest diluting his art with outsiders, people who weren’t even members of their congregation. His music was sacred, a vessel for the Dark One's message, not some commodity to be watered down for the masses. 

“Honestly son, no one wants to hear it. Sathanas your lyrics aren’t even in English! Per Ad Ass whatever. See, I can’t even remember the damn title. How do you expect anyone to-” 

“I liked it.” 

Secondo’s eyes snapped to yours. 

You’d set your notebook down and were staring back at him, a meek little smile spread across your face. You pushed away from the desk and crossed the room, stopping beside him. Secondo swore the flames behind him jumped when the fabric of your habit brushed against his robes. 

Imperator raised an eyebrow, looking between you and Secondo with mild interest. Papa Nihil rolled his eyes.

“Sister if you're trying to get in this stronzo’s pants you don’t have-”

“Nihil enough,” Imperator growled, before turning toward you. “Please. Go on sister. What did you like about the song?”

Your eyes drifted from Secondo’s to the floor. Whatever had emboldened you a moment ago was slipping away. Your voice was soft as you started to speak. 

“I thought it was beautiful. I… I couldn’t get it out of my head after I heard it. There’s something… I don’t know something ethereal about it.”

As you shook your head Secondo balled his fist by his side. He wanted to tell you that you didn't have to do this. You didn’t need to stick up for him. Nihil would always have something negative to say and for as long as he’d known Imperator she had never been his biggest supporter. But your eyes flickered from the floor to his and all his thoughts went out the window.

“No, maybe ethereal’s not the right word. It feels like… well it feels like that moment when we all gather together for Black Mass on All Hallows Eve. Everyone’s excited. A little nervous. Lust. Devotion. Passion. All those feelings we share builds that electricity in the air. You can feel it in your chest. That night it… it feels like the best of us. Like the best of our church, I mean. Everyone gathered together on the one night of the year we all looked forward to most. When the veil is thin and for most of us it’s the closest we’ll ever get to Him.” 

“Sister,” Nihil whined impatiently, taking a drag of his oxygen, and tapping his long fingernails against the armrest of the chair, “get to the point.” 

“I just mean. His song. Per Áspera Ad Inferí. It reminded me of why I’m a member of this church. It reminded me of why I’m here. Even if I didn’t understand the words I think it’s beautiful.” 

A TIDAL WAVE. 

A TORNADO.

AN AVALANCHE.

All three are natural disasters that consume. They claim every square inch of calm and bring complete chaos. Disrupting all that was. 

People can rebuild. They can lay out new foundations, frame new homes, and pave new roads. But life is never the same. It can’t go back. The world will never be the same once the snow tumbles down, the wave crashes in, and the winds wreak havoc. 

As Secondo looked at you he felt like one of those towns he’d seen on TV destroyed by such nature. His world would never be the same. Every thought that he had held was squeezed out. His world was disrupted. Interrupted. Changed. By you. 

Sathanas. 

He thought to himself. 

You’re beautiful. 

You’re so fucking goddamn beautiful. 

In was in that moment that Secondo realized you were the most stunning creature he had ever seen. He had denied it, pushed it down, and tried to bury his attraction to you and focus on other things like his papacy, the rituals, and the Dark Lord himself. But how could he ignore it now? How could he push it down and bury this feeling somewhere deep when you’d gone and said something like that? 

You went ahead and talked about the music… his music, like it meant something. Like it moved you. Like you had understood the very thing that moved him and motivated him to write it. He didn’t know when you’d heard it but that didn’t matter. You’d stormed into his mind now and there would be no rebuilding it to how it was before. He couldn’t ignore it. 

Maybe he should have seen it coming. Secondo was only a human. And so far humans haven’t figured out how to stop storms before they start so maybe he should have realized he wouldn’t be able to keep this feeling locked up forever. But he was here now, wrecking his brain. He saw you now. 

And you were so beautiful. 

His attraction had been there since day one, just simmering under the surface waiting for the right moment to boil over. But now it was happening at the most inopportune time and Secondo couldn’t put it off one more fucking second longer. 

He knew when this started. 

It had been the moment Imperator laid your photo out next to the others. He remembered it clearly. He was supposed to pick his first batch of Imperatrix’s. It was a high honor and an important duty as Papa but he hadn’t been able to pull his eyes off your picture. You were smiling, standing in the warm summer sun down by the lake. Your hair was undone, long, and flowing beautifully past your shoulders and you were wearing that sundress. The sweet little yellow thing with white flowers and a hemline landing just above your gorgeous thighs. 

You’d stolen all of his attention in that moment. So much so that he hadn’t even cared to look at photos of the others. He’d picked five more sisters at random. It’d been you he wanted. It’s been you he couldn’t wait to see in the dining room that first day. It’d been you he made sure was given the nicest suite. The one with the largest bath and the prettiest view of the summer gardens. He’d been disappointed when you’d told him you wouldn’t participate in the rituals but he’d tried to move on. The ritual was supposed to be only an offering after all. He’d been selfish to think of anything else. 

But Santhas how he wanted to kiss you right now. He could just wrap you up in his arms, yank off your veil, grab a fistful of your hair, and leave you breathless. He could have you panting, whining, begging for more. He could do it right here in front of his father and Sister Imperator. Or better yet he could kick them out, pick you up, and push you down against his desk and show how good he could make you feel with just his hands and mouth before he even used his cock. 

Fuck he could just-

“Why are we listening to this girl when she can’t even speak Latin?!” Nihil's ancient voice sliced through Secondo’s thoughts. “She doesn’t know what would make a good performer. Sister,” Nihil turned to face Imperator in his chair, “he is not ready.” 

“I may not speak Latin,” you snapped, taking a step toward Nihil and lowering your voice until it became an angry growl, “but I know that Papa commands every room he walks into. So why should a stage be so different? Why wouldn’t he be ready?” 

You took another step toward Nihil, positioning yourself in between the old man and your Papa but Secondo couldn’t let you throw yourself to the wolves. He reached for you, grabbing your wrist and gently pulling you back to his side. He could feel your pulse throb with fury as his gloved fingers held you back. 

He wanted to pull you even closer and hold you against his chest but Secondo stopped himself. He was thankful for your defense but couldn't let you provoke Nihil any further, not when the consequences for you both could be dire. He needed you near. He needed you close. He wouldn’t let Nihil send you away for your insolence. 

Not now. 

Not now that you had finally consumed him. 

Imperator leaned back in her chair and observed, watching the exchange between you, Secondo, and Papa Nihil. She rested a finger on her chin, deep in thought. 

“Papa Nihil, your concerns have been duly noted. But, I believe the sister's perspective holds merit. Secondo you may continue with the album as planned for now. We will meet again in one month to discuss your progress.”  

Nihil grumbled under his breath but eventually nodded in reluctant agreement. “Fine,” he said. “But he needs to prove himself. We can't afford any more fuckups. Capisci?”

“Sì,” Secondo answered, biting down on his cheek until the taste of copper filled his mouth, “Capisco, padre.” 

A week had passed since your promotion to Secondo’s assistant. 

The job wasn’t easy, but you’d learned his routines quickly enough. A cappuccino in the morning. Reading glasses cleaned and on the left side of his desk before his arrival. A fire hot and roaring before he entered and freshly-cut firewood kept stacked in the rack by the door. 

The work itself was usually the same. Every morning Secondo started with the pile of papers on his desk. Signing, editing, and transcribing. As Papa, it was his duty to understand all the traditions and rituals of the church while guiding his flock toward or against the known and unknown dogmas. 

All important clerical duties were done by lunch. In the afternoon, Secondo dedicated himself to his music. He wrote, sang, and played his guitar, a beautiful acoustic thing with a solid Sitka spruce top and touches of emerald green around its body. Most days Secondo didn’t leave his office when he worked on his album, preferring to play by the fire. But sometimes he did wander down to the music room, where the walls are padded and he could mix tracks when he felt so inclined. On those days his most trusted ghouls usually joined him. Alpha. Omega. Aero. Crust. 

The nighttime was reserved for sermons. Secondo wrote and practiced them over and over again until his message was clear and memorized completely. You never realized how much detail was packed into each line he delivered at mass until that week. Every word served a purpose, every phrase held a deeper meaning. 

Through it all you helped Secondo the best that you could. You learned that he was meticulous about his robes and paints, both of which he wore every single day, so you started keeping lint rollers in his office and a pot of his special facial paints in your pocket at all times. You learned inspiration could strike him at any moment so you also carried a little black notebook and a pen in case he ever needed to jot something down. 

Alpha was around most days and you were so thankful for that. You enjoyed your time together when he did play bodyguard, posting up inside Secondo’s office like a sentinel. He occasionally would slip you little cartoons he’d draw of you or Papa. He was a talented artist and you wondered if all ghouls were born with such creativity. You wanted to ask him but for some odd reason, Secondo kept giving him time off saying things like “go enjoy yourself” or “make sure to rest.” It was strange, seeing Secondo pretend to care about someone else. 

Most days you didn’t speak to Secondo and the two of you worked side by side in total silence. Although on more than one occasion you did catch him staring at you, you tried your best to stay out of his way and anticipate anything he needed.  

Neither of you had taken a single meal in the dining hall in the past week either. There was too much to do and too few hours in the day to do it all. It’d become clear that Secondo’s last assistant was less than organized and the backlog of work she’d inadvertently created felt neverending most days. 

Every night when you dragged yourself back to your suite you felt the same. You were tired. You were body-aching, head pounding, feet burning, doggone tired. You’d never worked so hard in your entire existence and your social life, as modest as it was before, practically vanished overnight. Your world became absolutely consumed by Secondo’s. 

It’s been a week since you’d been able to see your friends in the ghoul dens. You never made it down for Aether’s cooking or Mountain’s tea the day he had invited you. You’d apologized for missing out when you bumped into Mount days later. He’d been kind and understanding, offering you a hug that you needed more than you realized. And since then he’d taken it upon himself to leave little snacks and energy drinks in your suite every night. 

“You need the energy, little flower,” he had said when he’d delivered you the first round of goodies.

The other ghouls helped out too. Aurora and Cumulus surprised you with little pink Post-it notes on your bathroom mirror full of encouraging messages and adorable drawings. Aether also brought you your favorite wine. And Dew brought you his favorite weed. Swiss, the chaotic little sweetheart that he was, lent you two piles of his favorite records. 

“Music to put you to sleep and music to get you going in the morning,” he had said when dropping them off at your door. 

At some point, you’d eventually figure out a way to thank everyone. You just needed a minute away from Secondo before that could ever happen. But today wasn’t going to be that day. 

It was Saturday evening and while most of the Abbey was preparing for a night of sin and revelry you were with Secondo, holed up in his office and staring down a stack of receipts that needed approving. Alpha had left several hours earlier and the sun was setting outside, casting a warm orange glow through the open window behind Secondo’s desk and a cool breeze swept through the room. 

Secondo had set aside his latest sermon and was plucking away at his guitar. You stole glances at him every now and then, watching the way his ungloved slender fingers danced over the strings with effortless grace. 

The song was different from the rest he’d been working on. This one was slower. Softer. If anyone else had been playing it you might even dare say it was sweeter. 

“Ghuleh… Ghuleh…” 

Secondo sang, his voice rising over the crackling fire and gliding over you like the breeze from the open window.

“Ghuleh… Ghuleh…” 

You set your pen down and watched him. For all the vial names you wanted to spew at Secondo, you couldn’t deny him two things. The first was that the man had the voice of a fallen angel. You could easily imagine falling down again into the black void and meeting one of His princes. Maybe Belial or Beelzebub. You could imagine how they would probably sound the same if they sang. Confident, verging on arrogant but soft enough to corrupt any innocence they crossed. 

And the second thing you couldn’t deny Secondo was just how much you liked his voice. You could listen to him sign anything. The Macarena. Happy Birthday. God damn Barbie Girl. Honestly, it didn’t matter what Secondo was singing you’d listen to it all just to hear the way his voice could flit between light and delicate to those guttural deep growls that made your cheeks warm and red. 

You subtly reached up to your cheek and tried to hide the shame that they were indeed flushing red again. 

But luckily Secondo wasn’t looking at you. His gaze was elsewhere. His mismatched eyes were busy staring into the fireplace’s flames as he sang. 

“Putrefaction. A scent that cursed be. Under coat of dust. From the darkness. Rise a succubus.” 

On the last word, Secondo stopped, turned his head, and stared at you. If your cheeks had been tinged pink before they were bright red now. 

You had to say something. 

“That was beautiful.” 

Secondo’s gaze lingered on you for a heartbeat before he looked away. His fingers stilled on the guitar strings. Then Secondo did two things you never thought possible. He thanked you and he smiled. 

The deep-set corners of his eyes that were so often set in a frown shifted upwards. And his lips followed course. Moving big and wide. You were surprised at how nice it looked on him. How handsome his chiseled face was when he twisted it this way. Not that you ever thought you’d see it, but when you had imagined Secondo’s smile you’d thought it would be awkward, forced, and uncomfortable. But nothing about the way he looked at you now made you feel any of those ways. 

You don’t know why. But his thanks his smile…it felt like a truce.

Even if he didn’t know why you hated him and even if you didn’t know why he hated you something about the moment felt like a ceasefire. A break in the lingering feud between you both. You still hated him for what he’d said to you. And probably still despised you for your disobedience but right now… right now you could just co-exist. Right now that hatred didn’t feel important. Something else mattered. You weren’t sure if you could name it. But you felt it, fluttering in your chest and flickering on the tip of your tongue.  

Maybe the moment was getting to Secondo too, because he set his guitar aside and stood up, walking over to the window to watch the sun sink lower in the sky before rubbing his temples. 

You’d learned over the week that despite the front Secondo tried to put on he was indeed human. And he was a human being who suffered from pounding headaches just like you. 

“Headache, Papa?” 

“Nothing that won’t go away on its own, sorella,” he said despite mixing the white and black paint at his temples into a grey mess, as he moved his fingers in tiny circles. 

“Maybe you should take a break. Is there something you do to relax?” 

Secondo turned from the window and blinked at you. He looked surprised.

“I don’t have time for that.” 

You pushed away from your chair and reached into the pocket of your habit, pulling out a cotton handkerchief before handing it to Secondo and pointing to the grey smudges on his fingertips. 

“Well how about you take your guitar and I’ll take some of these,” you pointed back toward the stack of receipts on your desk, “and we’ll just go somewhere that’s more relaxing.” 

“Somewhere more… relaxing?” He repeated, eyeing you curiously.

“Yeah, maybe a change of scenery could help clear your mind.”

The idea seemed to intrigue Secondo. His gaze flickered between you and the window where the last rays of orange sunlight were fading fast. After a moment, he let out a sigh and nodded. 

“Lead the way, sorella.”

Secondo had lived in the Abbey his entire life and while he knew plenty of secrets about the old place he had never been here before. 

You had led Secondo through the Abbey into an abandoned classroom on the top floor of the eastern wing and climbed out its window. Then you’d scampered up onto the roof, where a black and red plaid blanket had already been waiting. A tin bucket sat next to one of the brick chimneys and Secondo peaked inside, noticing half a dozen smoked-down joints. 

You sat down on the blanket, deftly crossing your legs at your ankles, and waved at Secondo to join you. Secondo couldn’t help but think what a pair you two must make. What would people think if they saw you? A young Imperatrix, dressed in her most conservative black habit, not an inch of skin showing, and him…Papa Secondo, clad in all the finest regalia of his station donning black robes, mitre, and all. Even though the sun was almost fully set Secondo doubted that any sibling wandering the grounds below would be able to see either of you. But still, he felt subconscious about his dress. He normally didn’t mind people staring. But up here with you, he’d rather not draw stares. So he pulled off his mitre and gently set it on the roof before joining you on the blanket with his guitar. 

While the plaid blanket was decently sized, Secondo was forced to sit relatively close to you. Just a handful of inches separated the two of you. So he kept his eyes fixed on the horizon in an attempt to distract himself from the proximity and began plucking away at the strings of his guitar. Normally, keeping his hands busy was enough to distract himself. 

But tonight it wasn’t cutting it. Secondo couldn’t focus. 

Being here with you was so much different than his office or the music room. This felt too intimate. Two people, lying under the stars, with music in the air, this felt more like a date than the tail end of a long working day. And while Secondo was ready to admit that you were beautiful he wasn’t ever going to be the kind of man that took sisters like you on dates. He was missing that thing in him that sought out companionship, or the type of love that made people weak and vulnerable. Secondo was determined never to let himself be so at the mercy of another person. 

“I’ve never brought another human up here before?” Your voice cut through his idle strumming.

“Human?” 

“Yeah,” you said fidgeting with your habit. “I’ve only ever brought the ghouls up here.” 

Secondo raised an eyebrow. Most siblings were terrified of ghouls. But you were apparently comfortable enough to lay with them under the stars. Who were you? 

“The ghouls… they are your friends?” 

“They’re my only friends.” 

For two people who have spent every waking minute together over the past 7 days, Secondo realized then he knew absolutely nothing about you. He shifted on the blanket, moving his long under his thighs. Then he turned his broad shoulders in your direction so he could look at you fully. He hoped you look back at him. 

But you avoided his eye contact and stared up into the sky. 

The moonlight glistened on your face, casting shadows in the hollows of your cheeks and Secondo was struck by how ethereal you looked, like a beautiful unholy being bathed in silver light. 

“You are beautiful, sorella.” 

The words were out of Secondo’s mouth before he realized it. They’d simply escaped, like taking a breath, without any consciousness. 

But Secondo didn’t want to take them back. They were the truth and he couldn’t rewind time. All he could do was wait for you to say something… anything. The minutes stretched like hours. But you weren’t going to answer. You had frozen in place and the only thing that emerged from your lips were shaky and nervous breaths that puffed out into the cold night like little clouds. 

Then Secondo did something stupid. He spoke again. 

“You don’t like me do you?” 

This time your eyes snapped quickly to Secondo’s and nothing could have prepared him for how much angry fire was burning behind them. 

“Fuck you.” 

“W-what?”

“I said fuck you, Papa,” you spat out Secondo’s title with ugly disdain and dug a pointed finger hard into his chest. “You’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met in my life. I bet you don’t even remember what you said to me do you?” 

Secondo tried to rack his brain. He tried to think of any interaction. Any possible bump in the halls, or faux pau in the dining halls. He’d only known you for a week. He’d never spoken to you before seven days ago. What the hell could he have done in that time to make you hate him so? 

As Secondo looked at you, it was obvious he didn’t remember. There was no flicker of recognition. No flashback running through his mind. 

And somehow that felt so much worse. How could he not remember when you’d never forget? 

“Sorella,” Secondo pled, “Tell me please. What did I do to you?”

Go back: (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

At Secondo’s stern voice you froze, holding your breath and clenching your pen in your fist.  You didn’t dare meet his gaze, knowing exactly what you’d see as soon as you looked at him: disappointment.

“Papa, I wasn–”

“You were.”  You winced at the edge to his tone, something he must have noticed because he cleared his throat and continued in a much softer voice.  “I can always tell.”

There was a fleeting moment in which you wanted to argue, to disagree that he didn’t know you as well as he thought.  But despite how it could catch you off guard at times it also made you feel cared for.  Wanted.  To have someone, especially someone like Papa Secondo Emeritus, know you so well to be able to see what was going on.

“Sorry, Papa.”

His chair creaked and when you dared a glance his way you saw him walking towards your desk.  It was late in the day so he was just in his suit pants and white button up, the robes long gone and probably in a heap at the bottom of his closet.  The paint on his face was smudged, especially around his eyes and mouth, and your fingers twitched wanting to grab a makeup brush and fix it.

“You do not need to apologize to me, dolcezza.”  He knelt down next to your chair with a quiet groan, wincing when his knees popped audibly.  Leather covered hands reached out for the arms of your chair and he easily spun it so you were facing him.  With a gentle touch he lifted a hand up and swiped his thumb across your forehead.  “What’s going on in there, hmm?”

Feigning ignorance wouldn’t work, it never did with him, so you sighed, your body deflating and slouching in the chair before you answered, “I just-I just can’t get this right.”

“Get what right?”  When you gestured vaguely at your desk he straightened up to glance at the mess of papers across it, grabbing one to quickly look it over and then turning to look at you with a raised eyebrow.  “The speech?  It’s just a silly thing for mass, you’ve written them before.”

“Yes but this one is important.  Don’t roll your eyes at me Papa, it’s true!”

“Important how?  Because of those imbellici from Rome?”

“They’re not imbeciles!”  You slapped Secondo’s hand away when he picked up a page that was mostly doodles.  “And even if they were, they're still the ones in charge of funding.”

“So?”

“So?  Are you even listening?”  When he rolled his eyes you barely resisted the urge to stab him in the neck with your pen.  “This needs to be perfect, absolutely perfect, so we can secure more funding for the church.”

You turned away from him and stared down at your desk.  It was taking all your concentration not to cry, especially as you looked over your notes and half-written paragraphs.  Secondo wasn’t getting it.  This was why you were here, not just in his office but at the church.  You were hired to help with writing speeches, press releases and anything of the sort.  If you failed at this, why would they keep you around?

Why would Secondo keep you around?

“Dolcezza?”  When you didn’t answer him he turned your chair again, his hands resting on your knees.  He gave each a brief squeeze before slowly moving them up your thighs until they stopped at your hips.  Only then did you look his way, immediately getting trapped by those gorgeous eyes of his.  “Shut up.”

“Hey!”

“No, you will shut up and listen to me.  Okay?”  He raised an eyebrow when you stayed silent, only continuing when you finally nodded your head.  “You are incapable of anything but perfection.  So I need you to stop listening to whatever the voice in your head is telling you and I need you to listen to me.  Can you do this?”

“Yes, Papa.”

Secondo gave you a small smile before bringing his hands up to cradle your face.  When he leaned close and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead your breath caught in your throat.

“You are an extraordinary writer, amore.  Far better than anyone else here.  It doesn’t matter if it’s a speech for mass or something for the weekly newsletter, everything you do is perfetto.”  He kissed you again in the same spot, this time his lips pressed more firmly into your skin.  Like he could somehow transfer his words straight to your brain.  When he pulled away he tilted your face up and your breath hitched again when you saw he was smiling.  “Although I am especially fond of the bitchy emails you send Copia when he goes over budget.”

“Well, he deserves every one of those.”  

You gave him a watery smile before ducking your head and sniffling.  Secondo’s kind words surrounded you, much like his arms were as he wrapped them around your back and held you close.  He rubbed his hands up and down your back reassuringly until you had your emotions under control, eventually leaning back in your chair.  Secondo took a moment to swipe at the tears on your cheeks before cupping your face again, holding you still so he could lean in to kiss your lips this time.  There was a twinkle in his eyes when he pulled away, the makeup on his lips even more smudged than before.

No doubt your lips didn’t look any better.

“Perhaps a change of scenery will help?  What do you think?”

“Scenery?”  Secondo stood up and started gathering all your papers, ignoring you when you tried to stop him.  “You’re messing them up.  Papa, wait!”

With your work in one hand he reached out with his other and grabbed one of yours, tugging you towards the door to his office.

“How does my room sound?”

“It sounds like a place where I'm not going to get much work done.”

At the door Secondo turned to you, a wicked smirk on his face as he dragged his eyes up and down your body.  

“Then it’s a good thing I’ll be there to keep you on task, hmm?”

You snorted, moving past him to open the door and move out into the hallway.  He gave your ass a light pat as you went by but you kept your eyes forward as you started to walk towards his quarters.  Perhaps a little break would help clear your head.  When you glanced back to sneak a look at him you couldn’t help but look him up and down as well.  Your Papa looked handsome and sinful as he followed behind you.  Like a gift from Lucifer himself.  

A gift just for you.

With a grin you started to pick up the pace, your footsteps echoing around the otherwise empty hallway.  Secondo was close behind you and when you blindly held a hand out towards him he quickly enveloped it in one of his own.  Words were starting to swirl through your head, ideas for the speech tumbling over themselves.  You needed to get to his room so you could write them down before you forgot.

“Hurry, Papa!” 

“See?  I’m helping already.”

You looked back at him, not surprised to see him wearing a familiar smug smile.  Under any other circumstances it would have annoyed you like it usually did but right now?  Right now you were nothing but thankful for it.  He grunted when you turned and flung your arms around his neck, his own arms quickly going around your waist.  Before he could ask what you were doing you were kissing him, making even more of a mess of his makeup.  

“What can I say, Papa?  You inspire me.”  He was still looking smug when you pulled away with the bitter taste of his makeup on your tongue.  “Quit that.”

“Just happy I could help, dolcezza.”

“Of course, Papa.  What would I do without you?”

When you turned to start walking again he stopped you, his arms pulling you back towards him.  His features had softened a bit, although at this point with how messy his makeup was he did look rather ridiculous. 

“Luckily for us we won’t have to find out, will we?”

“No, Papa.”  You couldn’t resist kissing him again.  His chin, his lips, his beautiful nose…anywhere you could reach before you finally pulled away, your hands coming up to cup his face.  “We won’t.”

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

“It’s breakfast,” you explained flatly.

He huffed. “I don’t—”

“Well, today you do.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No need to beg Papa,” you teased as you moved around the desk and threw open the curtains. Soft, warm light filled the dark office as Secondo huffed in complaint once again. As soon as your hands landed on your hips the intimidating man shrank.

He began to grumble, “I don’t know why I let you—”

“Because you like me.” You leaned over and gave him a solid boop on the nose. “And you don’t really have a choice. Who else would put up with you?”

He pursed his lips as he thought about your words. “Copia’s assistant is quite good. Has a lot of patience—”

“Ha! And they’re terrified of you.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Eat or I’ll feed you to the hellhounds.”

He grinned and held out a croissant—your favorite variety. “Join me?”

-- I have a few more prompts and requests in my inbox that I am working through 🖤 I see you guys and I love you. Also working hard on Suck Club Vampire Primo and taking pictures of Tiny Secondo holding things.