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ghost-in-the-hall · 1 year ago

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Strawberries (Terzo x Fem! Reader SMUT)

Credit to @conjuring-ghouls for the gif!

WARNINGS: Minors Do Not Interact, MDNI, 18+, Explicit Content, Sexual Content, Minors DNI, food play, pussy eating, overstimulation

Dearest Shoe, @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe thank you so much for requesting this, it was so much fun to write and definitely something outside of my comfort zone. Love you bb ❤️❤️

My Masterlist! ~ A03 Link!

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You couldn't stop the smirk from passing over your lips as you caught the sight of him. "You know, Primo's going to be awfully upset if he finds out you were messing around in his greenhouse Papa." You watch his shoulder shake slightly as he chuckles. His gaze lands on you, the two of you sharing a small smile.

"Surely he won't mind me stealing a few strawberries. Especially if I'm gathering them to share with one of his beloved Siblings, eh Sorella?" You knew that devious glint in his eye all too well. Terzo Emeritus was not anything if not a flirt. He knew exactly what to say and how to act in order to leave you a flustered and blushing mess, not that you were complaining. He held one of the ripe berries between his fingers, studying it as he slowly made his way over to you. "The first strawberries of the season are always my favorite. Deliciously tart," his eyes leave the fruit and train themselves on you, taking in the image of your curves under your work clothes. "Yet still so sweet." He stood in front of you, his intense gaze gluing you to your spot. "It's probably one of the greatest tastes I've ever experienced… so far anyways." He smirks at you. You pressed your thighs together to try and stifle the growing arousal between your legs. Despite the fact you had been a target of Terzo's charm for years, he never failed to get you all worked up. He held out the strawberry to you, watching intently as your lips wrapped around the tip of it, gently brushing over his fingers as you took a small bite. Your eyes never left his, beautifully mismatched hazy green with the other being so white it almost glowed. Terzo Emeritus was definitely a sight to behold.

"It's delicious Papa." You giggle, covering your mouth with your hand. He takes your chin between his fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat, his lips barely out of reach.

"Can I have a taste, Sorella?" He smirks, your cheeks immediately heating up at his question.

"Terzo!" You startled away from him as Primo's voice booms through the greenhouse. "I've told you before, not in my greenhouse, you'll crush the plants!" Terzo chuckles, taking a step back from you.

"Relax, fratello, I was just giving (Y/N) some fruit." The youngest Emeritus brother shoots you a wink and a flirtatious smirk. Your eyes trailed after him as he made his exit, taking the rest of the plump flesh of the strawberry between his teeth. The thought flashed through your mind of how good it would feel for him to bite into your thighs like that. You quickly shook the idea from your head as Primo approached you.

"Il mia bambina, I hate to trouble you, but would you mind harvesting some fruits and bringing them to Terzo's office? I would like to keep that menace out of my garden at all costs." He says with an exasperated sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Yes Papa, I'll take care of it." You agree with a smile. He pats you on the shoulder as he walks past you.

"Thank you Sorella. If you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with one Miss Mary Jane." He pardons himself with a chuckle. You made quick work of picking fruits, the thought of your earlier interaction with Terzo playing repeatedly in your mind, making you incredibly giddy. You grabbed some dark, sweet cherries, ripe peaches, tart plums, and of course more strawberries, carefully arranging them in your basket. You stopped by the kitchen, slipping some chocolate from Secondo's secret stash in with your other treats as you passed through.

"Papa?" You knock tenitavely on his door, pushing it open when you hear him give you permission to enter. He sat at his desk, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he filled out some paperwork. "Primo wanted me to bring you some fruits." You held up the basket before setting it on his desk. He chuckles, examining the gift before him.

"And the chocolate?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Just a little something special for my Papa." You blush slightly, your eyes drifting down to your feet.

"Thank you cara mia, this is wonderful. How can I ever repay you?" His question slightly muttles with the rustling of the candy's foil. You glanced up at him to find his eyes already studying you. The tension in the air was thick. Gone was the usual playfully flirty demeanor that often dominated your and Terzo's conversations. You stood before him now when there wasn't a single chance you would get disturbed. He knew he had you all to himself and he was planning on taking full advantage of that.

"There's no need to repay me Papa." You respond softly. He snaps off a small piece of chocolate, holding it out to you. You carefully take it between your lips, he watches your reaction to the slightly bitter chocolate intently.

"Oh, but I want to, Sorella." He neatly folds up his glasses, tucking them away in his desk before he stands. His slow, heavy footsteps echoing in your ears as he walks around his desk. He sat on the edge of the dark wood, picking up a peach out of the basket, tossing it in the air and catching it in his palm a few times. "You went through all this hard work just to bring me something I wanted… surely there's something you want as well." You eyed the fruit in his hand, wanting to relive the sensation you had experienced earlier. Terzo follows your gaze, holding the peach out for you to bite. Forbidden fruit hanging just out of reach. You hesitantly lean forward, sinking your teeth into the soft flesh. You felt some of the juice dripping down your lip. In one swift movement Terzo was standing, his tongue lapping up the droplet of juice before his lips crashed into yours. The peach tumbled from his hand and to the floor with a loud thud. His arms wrapped around you, pulling your body flush against his own. He sucked your lip between his teeth, a delighted hum escaping you as your eyes fluttered shut. He lifted you from the floor, effortlessly setting you on the edge of his desk. Your kiss broke momentarily as you both hurried to get undressed. "I can't even begin to tell you how long I've wanted you cara mia." He admits breathlessly. You tangled your fingers in his dark hair, giving it a firm tug that elicited a sinful groan from him, his fingers kneading into your hips.

"Then have me Papa… I'm all yours." His lips were back on yours in an instant, needy hands pulling at your shirt until it was removed from your body. Terzo kissed and nipped at the exposed skin of your chest. Terzo's eyes drifted to the fruit basket you had brought, a smirk crossing his features as he breathes out a chuckle.

"I think I know a pretty good use for your gift." You raised a curious eyebrow at him, watching to see what he would do next. He grabbed one of the various plums in the basket, leaning over your exposed chest and biting into it. The dark red juice dripped down his fingers and off his wrist before splattering across your skin. Your fingers slid into his raven locks as he dipped his head, licking the droplets up from the valley of your breasts. His eyes never leaving yours for a moment. You placed a finger under his chin, gently guiding him upwards until you found his lips, the tart juice of the plum mixing with Terzo's naturally sweet taste. He rests his forehead against yours after he pulls away. "The freshest fruit in the garden should be shared with the prettiest flower, sí?" You couldn't help but blush under his gaze, nodding in agreement. He offered you a bite of the plum before discarding it alongside the peach, his head dipping into the crook of your neck. His warm breath fanned over your skin as he trailed kisses down your exposed body. You mewled under his touch, back instinctively arching off the desk as he sucked dark marks onto your thighs. He paused, fingers playing at the band of your panties. "Will you allow me to taste you, Sorella?"

"Please, Papa." You whine, your legs already beginning to tremble despite him not even touching you yet. Terzo lets out a deep chuckle, removing the main clothing keeping him separated from your soaked core at an agonizingly slow pace. Your breath caught in your throat as he licked a long stripe over your clit, the gasp he elicited fizzling out before it even had a chance to leave your lungs. He wasted no time, his tongue dipping inside your entrance allowing him to lap up the juices of your arousal. You pressed a hand firmly to the back of his head, grinding your hips into his face. His nose brushed over your clit as his tongue continued to work inside of you, a series of sinful moans falling from your lips as the growing knot in your stomach.

"So sweet, Cara Mia." Terzo groans before latching his lips around your clit, tongue expertly teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves. The arm you were using to support yourself gave out underneath you, causing you to collapse back against the desk. Terzo wrapped his strong arms around your thighs, holding you in place as he effortlessly pulled an orgasm from you. Your legs trying to force themselves closed, Terzo resisted you with a chuckle, the vibrations sending a jolt through your already sensitive body. You cried out his name, trying to push his face away, a task that only resulted in streaks of grey across your palms from his paints. "Forgive me for being selfish dolce, but you are the best thing I've ever tasted." He smirks as you squirm in his grasp. "Even better than those strawberries."

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Tag List: @moss-the-moth @mustluvecho @kissingghouls @angellayercake @copiousloverofcopia @rabidghoul

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library-ghoulette · 22 days ago

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day 9 // voice kink

Prompt list thanks to @kroas-adtam 💜

Pairing: Terzo x reader

Rating: Explicit, minors DNI

Words: 1048

Tags: second person POV, female reader, confessional booth, masturbation

Summary: You confess to Papa Terzo why you have trouble paying attention during mass.

A/N: At long last, another Ghostober fic! Written in a frenzy and barely proofread, so beware? The Hail Lilith prayer that I quote in its entirety is from the article "Praying the Satanic Rosary," uploaded to Scribd by jimhoward300380.

Read beneath the cut or on ao3!

All is quiet as you make your way to the confessional, stepping into the booth and pulling the door behind you with a muffled, satisfying snick. You settle on the bench, and the dim silence envelopes you, thick and expectant. It awaits your words and the violence of breaking.

You cross yourself—right shoulder, left, forehead, between your breasts—and say, "Bless me, Papa, for a I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession."

Then, you pause, letting the silence spool out between you. You can only catch a glimpse of a silhouette through the screen, the strong line of an aquiline nose in profile.

There is an impatient shuffling of vestments. "Go on, sorella."

A frisson of excitement runs through you at the words, at the familiar trill of the rolled r. You're not supposed to know who sits on the other side of the divider. You're certainly not supposed to memorize the schedule according to which the various Papas in residence—three retired from their public role, but still of service to their flock, and one still on active duty, as it were—hear confession, and plan your sojourns into the booth accordingly.

But isn't rule-breaking inherent to your faith, you rationalize? Did Lucifer not rebel before His creator? Is it not the nature of the brightest stars to fall?

And fall you have. You're not unique in this—every Sibling in the Abbey would be happy to line up and wait their turn with Papa Terzo. Who could resist his clever hands, his easy charisma, the transfixing power of his unholy gaze?

But for you? It's all about the voice. You have been known to linger outside of the music room, sweeping the hallway extra carefully as he warms up his vocal chords, running through scales and nonsense exercises. During mass, you let your eyes slip shut in the semblance of religious ecstasies, letting each syllable of his homily wash over you, meaning more felt by your body than absorbed by your mind.

But nothing compares to sitting here with him in the secretive dark, where each word rings with a special gravity, rendered huge by the small space.

You rack your brain for something to confess, searching your soul for the most exquisite sins you've committed. You run through a small litany of everyday transgressions—indulging your slothfulness, lying to Sister Imperator and saying that you weren't feeling well to get out of cleaning the sanctuary, envying one of your Sisters the expensive new pair of shoes she just bought and won't stop showing off every chance she gets.

Each sin you recount gets little more than a grunt of acknoledgement. This is no good. He's barely spoken the entire time you've been in here, and you're running out of sins, running out of opportunities for approval, for comment.

You decide to be bold.

"And—" your voice falters for just a moment before you press on "—and I've been having— impure thoughts. During mass."

"Oh?"

"Yes, Papa. I find that I can't focus during the readings, because I'm so distracted by— by your voice."

"My voice, sorella?" It comes out deep and rumbling, and you swear you can feel the words low in your belly as surely as if he were murmuring against your skin. You press your thighs together, seeking friction, seeking any relief you can find.

"Y-yes," you sigh. Your fingers twist in the hem of your skirt.

"Well, that is a problem." A pause, and you wonder whether he's going to continue. "You come here to hear my voice, but I think that I need to hear yours."

"Papa?" you ask, confused.

"Say a Hail Lilith for me," he commands. "As your penance for failing to listen to the words of our Unholy Father."

You take a deep breath, collecting yourself as you recall the words of the prayer. "Hail Lilith, full of the Serpent's seed, Satan be with you. Blessed are—"

"Slower," he interrupts.

You begin again, taking your time. "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, the Demons."

As you speak, you become aware of the rustling of cloth, as though he has reached beneath the robes of his office, as though—but surely not—he has taken himself in hand. It surprises you so much that you stop mid-prayer.

His voice is husky, breathy, when he prompts you, "Keep going. Please."

Emboldened, you snake your hand up under your skirt and down your panties, suppressing a gasp as your fingertips find your swollen clit and begin to trace desperate circles. You strive to keep your voice steady as you continue to pray.

"Seductress Lilith, m-mother of— mm— mother of S-succubi—"

You can still hear the motion of his hand, the huff of his breath as he gets closer, as he whispers, "Yes, that's it…"

"Pray— pray for— for us." The words have to fight your quickening breath and lust-muddled brain, now, and you're so close to coming that you're barely aware of what you're saying, or how loud you're being. "Pray for us that are serving You! Now and— fuck— now and in the— in the—"

Your release carries the rest of the prayer away, and you bite your lip hard enough to taste the coppery tang of blood, desperate not to scream your pleasure loud enough for the entire church to hear.

Beyond the partition, you hear his muttered swearing, the gentle knock of his head falling back against the wall of the confessional, and a deep, barely suppressed moan that you know you'll be replaying in your head tonight, and for many nights to come.

"Pray for us that are serving you," you repeat, slightly out of breath, "now and in the time of our Fornication. Nema."

For a few moments, the booth fills with the sounds of your breath as you both recover, heartbeats slowing. And then he asks, "Do you have anything else to confess?"

"This is all I can remember," you say, falling into the rote script of confession. "I revel in these and all my sins."

"Very good. When you leave, say three more Hail Liliths and an Our Father. And sorella?"

"Yes, Papa?"

"Come to confession the same time next week."

#ghostober 2024 #kinktober 2024 #band ghost fanfic #my writing #lib ghoulette writes #x reader

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apollocabinrep · 6 months ago

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Dear Bianca,

Writing letters is a lot harder than mamma made it seem. I think if the nymphs saw how much paper I've tossed away, they'd throw me in the lake. I'm staying at camp now, so I've made it easier for them. We have our own cabin, well I do. Annabeth said you would never get to be in it, because of joining the Hunters.

Some part of me wants to be mad at you for leaving me- both dying and choosing rebirth, but we both know I'm not, not anymore at least. I just really, really miss you. I took have mia sorellona for granted. I can't blame you for wanting to leave me though, I was a really annoying kid. And I didn't realize how hard putting up with annoying kids were until I got "stolen" by the Apollo cabin.

My boyfriend, yeah I have one of those now, Will has two younger siblings, Austin and Kayla. Between me and you, Austin is my favorite. They're not 10 year olds obsessed with Mythomagic but Gods, Bi, I have no idea how you did it. They're not bad, just exhausting to be around sometimes. Actually so is Will. Bi, he is making me catch up on films, though people now just call them 'movies'. It's a weird word, but apparently I'm old for preferring to call them films.

We have another sorella, too. Her name is Hazel and she's Roman. She's helped me through a lot. At first, I saw her as a replacement for you, but truthfully, I'm really happy to have Hazel as herself. You two are really different, but I couldn't be happier for it. That's a weird thing to think about, huh. Was I really a happy kid, Bi? After everything I've been through, it feels like I'm just now getting to be happy, but I know I was happy to have you in my life.

I really wish you hadn't gotten that stupid figurine. It wasn't worth your life. I would've much preferred my sister coming back alive, but I can't change the past. I have a best friend now, I think. His name is Jason and he's kind of annoying. He left with his girlfriend Piper to go find their recently undead friend Leo. He also builds shrines for the Minor Gods, which is pretty cool. It hopefully keeps them from trying to kill us, and he is really excited about it.

Gods, Bi, nothing this good ever lasts long for me. It's terrifying and I wish you were here to give me a hug. Healing is really hard and if you knew the language I've started to use you'd be grabbing soap with a horrified face. I wish you could meet everyone. Not Leo. I'm still mad at him for pulling his dying not dying trick.

Do you think you'll remember me after your next life? I hope so. You don't have to worry about me so much. I plan to fight for this life I have. Everyone is insufferable, but they aren't bad people.

Your fratellino,

Niccolò

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[Italian translations:

Mamma - mom

Mia sorellona - big sister

Sorella - sister

Fratellino - little brother]

#this is actually so much sweeter than I planned it to be #nico's healing will stay with me forever #fuck the timeline #after boo but before toa #nico di angelo #bianca di angelo #solangelo #others are mentioned #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #hoo #pjo hoo toa #pjo letters series

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omarfor-orchestra · 1 year ago

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Fidatevi faranno le sorelle in qualche film o serie prima che lo facciano Lea e Damiano

Ma la noto solo io la somiglianza tra GaiaGirace e LeaGavino?

#che poi gaia è 2003 lea 99 ma lea farebbe la sorella minore palese

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insignificantesola · 4 months ago

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Sinceramente non volevo una sorella minore per sentirmi umiliata a confronto; lei con fidanzati, amanti e amici sempre fuori casa, sicuramente andrà meglio anche sul lavoro..

Io la sfigata in casa, isolata e sola con un lavoro uno peggio dell'altro, e sicuramente disoccupata dall'anno prossimo.

#pensieri24

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ragazza-whintigale · 1 year ago

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𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝕽𝖆𝖐𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕰𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖊 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

( + ᴹᴵᴺᴼᴿᴱ ʸᴬᴺᴰᴱᴿᴱ ᴾᴸᴬᵀᴼᴺᴵᶜᴼ ᴹᴬᴿᴵᴬᴺᴺᴱ ᴱᴰᴱᴺᵛᴱᴿᴿᴱ)

𝔒𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔞 ➵ Into the light, once again

𝔄𝔳𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔷𝔢 ➵ Comportamento yandere, yandere platonico Marianne, viaggio nel tempo, morte, menzione di torture, manipolazione, Avvelenamento, Minacce di morte, tentato Suicidio, omicidio, veleno, Mc mentalmente instabile, Marianne bara costantemente, possibile parte 2.

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔢 ➵ 8184

⟢𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎 / 𝚂𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚘 ⟣

C’è voluto del tempo, più di quanto pensavi in realtà, ma alla fine sei arrivata alla conclusione che: non è un sogno. Risvegliarti nella tua stanza di quando eri solo una giovane debuttante, con i chiari ricordi di qualcosa che era successo ma che nessuno ricordava, poteva essere un sogno…

…Ma non lo era.

Questo sotto certi versi era ironico. Avevi commesso qualcosa, che a occhi sconosciuti, ti avrebbero fatta diventare la cattiva della storia, se mai questa fosse stata una storia, eppure hai comunque una seconda possibilità. Quel genere di possibilità che poteva rivelarsi un bene e un male, un arma a doppio taglio. Una peccatrice a cui era stata data una possibilità di redenzione. O una possibilità di Vendetta, ma faceva davvero differenza tra le due cose? Non quando avevi avvelenato con successo il tuo fidanzato - non che futuro imperatore - e tra la lista dei possibili colpevoli tu non eri nemmeno compresa. Troppo innocua o troppo stupida? Non ne avevi idea, ma ridere alla frustrazione delle principesse e dei principi preoccupati per il fratello non deve avergli dato molti dubbi. Avevi tutto il diritto di fare quello che hai fatto! Non eri una pedina in mani crudeli, non eri un pezzo di argilla da modellare a loro piacimento e tanto meno una marionetta nelle mani di un giocattolaio. Eri tratta con sufficienza. Un ridicolo pezzetto di un piano molto più complesso.

Hai fatto diversi test per provare che tutto questo era reale, che sei tornata indietro e non era un sogno. Hai cercato vecchie cicatrici che ti eri procurata per alleviare lo stress della competizione al trono o che ti erano state fatte successivamente al tuo attentato. Hai Indagato su alcune situazioni che ricordavi fossero accadute, realizzando che altre che ricordavi lontanamente fossero appena accadute. Una certa contessa non era incinta di un figlio bastardo, anzi non era proprio sposata con il marito che avrebbe tradito. Nessun cavaliere era stato giustiziato ingiustamente e nessuna storia d’amore tra un qualche mago e una popolana che sarebbe diventato un romanzo apprezzato in tutto l’Impero. Ma soprattutto nessuna cicatrice di tutti gli abusi che avevi subito gli ultimi mesi prima di morire, e il principe Rakial era vivo. Maledettamente vivo e non in pericolo di vita, come lo avevi lasciato. Forse la prova più tangibile l’ultima.

Sei palesemente tornata indietro nel tempo, non sai come o perché. Ma hai deciso comunque crederci. Anche se sarebbe era stupido da parte tua non crederci a prescindere. Non quando maghi talentuosi abitavano tutto l’Impero, sotto la guida della famiglia Imperiale. Ti sei assicurata infine di capire in che anno eri… 5 anni e qualche mese prima della tua morte. Era già qualcosa immaginavi, contando che, per quello che potevi ricordare, Rakial ci aveva messo molto tempo a notarti. Non come se l'avesse fatto davvero a tuo parere. In realtà eri certa che fosse semplice evitare di avere a che fare con loro. Sarebbe bastato stargli lontano, e evitare sua sorella minore, forse il tuo vero ostacolo in realtà o così l’avevi sempre vista. Marianne era in qualche modo coinvolta in tutto quello che era successo, ma non sapevi fino a che punto lo fosse. Sia riguardo alla tua fine che agli strani eventi che hanno coinvolto Edervenne e Elmir. Non hai nemmeno dubbi sulla sua implicazione nella tua fine, e hai sospettato fino all’ultimo che lei avesse incastrato la principessa Alissa e in qualche modo il essere una specie di Santa ti ha solo aiutato a sospettare anche di più. Lo sapevi anche quando ti avevano assicurato che non era così e che era crudele da parte tua dare la colpa alla vittima. Ma nessuno sospetta mai della vittima, d'altronde. Sarebbe stata una mossa astuta da parte sua. Hai ignorato tutti e non avevi decisamente tutti i torti. Solo che nessuno ti avrebbe comunque riconosciuto per questo.

Il piano completo - non molto strutturato in realtà, niente di complicato - prevedeva che tu non avessi contato con nessuno dei due fino a che non avessi trovato un altro modo per fuggire. Il che avrebbe potuto significare un fidanzamento fuori Edenverre o avere un ruolo come ambasciatore per conto di Edenverre in un altro luogo. Elmir era conosciuto per essere un luogo molto pacifico, anche se dubitavi ci saresti mai andata, sapevi di un conflitto tra Elmir e Edervenne che sarebbe diventato intenso in futuro.

Hai incrociato le braccia quasi senza pensarci, senza badare a qualsiasi etichetta potesse esserci. Secondo quello che potevi ricordare il motivo del tuo fidanzamento con Rakial è una sorta di apparenza sociale. Dopo la morte di Alissa, Rakial ha perso influenza e di conseguenza, per rafforzare il potere, che ha preso la decisione di fidanzarsi con la figlia dell'ambasciatore di Vandrova. Tu. Non potevi sapere se funzionava davvero così o avrebbe dovuto sposare una principessa da Vandrova. Anche se non ci eri mai stata si dice che le principesse hanno un aspetto magnifico e fuori dal comune. Parenti delle fate si chiacchiera a Edervenne, anche se ne dubitavi fortemente, ma li hai lasciati parlare. Non avevi un gran motivo per imbarcarti in un'impresa così inutile.

Hai sospirato di sollievo e con ancora un filo di controllo in corpo, hai lasciato scendere le braccia in una posizione più comoda ed elegante. Nessuno sembra accorgersene. Per tua fortuna durante tutta la sera sei riuscita a non farti notare, o semplicemente incontrarli. E’ stato relativamente semplice. Marianne era circondata costantemente di troppe attenzioni preoccupate per la sua salute, per notarti tra la folla in cui ti sei mescolata. Invece Rakial era troppo indifferente e impegnato a parlare con qualcuno per accorgersi di una qualsiasi nobildonna, in mezzo ad altre qualsiasi nobildonne.

Se Selene fosse stata anche solo un pò dalla tua parte ti avrebbe concesso di non essere notata. Speravi disperatamente lo fosse anche se non è la vendetta che stai cercando.

Hai rigirato il bicchiere tra le tue dita annoiata dalla conversazione, non ricordavi nemmeno come e quando sei riuscita a mescolarti a questa manica di pettegole. Non potevi negarlo di esserlo anche tu, ma quello di cui parlavi tu era qualcosa di diverso; Niente coppie, niente matrimoni e niente adulazioni a giovani nobili. Sul serio non potevi parlare di Aconito come se fosse un qualsiasi vino costoso? Credi di no. Soprattutto ora. Da come hai registrato, Alissa è già stata giustiziata da quasi 3 mesi e parlare di qualcosa come veleno - anche se non era quello che era stato usato - non era un’idea molto saggia. Si stavano ancora cercando persone sospette e coinvolte nell'incidente. E poi questa festa era in onore di Marianne che si era rimessa, quindi avresti rovinato solo l’atmosfera, attirando le attenzioni che volevi evitare.

❝ E voi Lady (nome)? ❞ ❝ mmh? scusatemi ero distratta…❞ Ti sei destata dai tuoi pensieri con un'apparenza imbarazzata. I loro sguardi chiamavano una risposta. Non pensavi fossero interessate a te in quanto persona, ma solo come punto di un futuro pettegolezzo. ❝ Beh… avete un anno più di sua altezza il principe Rakial, eppure non avete nemmeno un interesse.❞ Da quando i principi venivano usati come metodi di misurazione dell’età? Comunque avevi quasi due anni di differenza da lui, solo 4 mesi Ti impedivano di completare l’anno. Scandisci la voce con una leggera tosse. ❝ Oh beh… penso di non aver trovato ancora qualcuno con cui condividere la vita… e poi da dove viene mia madre, è normale iniziare il corteggiamento in una così tarda età.❞ Hai ridacchiato in modo fin troppo finto per essere credibile, ma le altre dame ci sembrano essere cadute. Non ti sembravano molto sveglie in effetti.

❝ Giusto, vostra madre non è di Edenverre! ❞ Disse una ❝ Si dice che condividete molti tratti della sua città natale.❞ Un’altra non poco distante aveva continuato il discorso della precedente colpite dal stesso entusiasmo. Anche se era vero. Tu somigliavi più a qualcuno di Vandrova, che di Edenverre. E così ti stava bene. Il discorso era scivolato via con facilità mentre qualcuno citava di essere stata a Vandrova. Tu non ci sei mai stata e non avevi un spiccato interesse nel andarci nell’immediato futuro, se mai non fosse l’unica soluzione per sfuggire al tuo imminente declino.

Hai ripreso ad ignorare oziosamente la conversazione, spostandoti ogni tanto con il gruppo per prendere da bere, o semplicemente per appartarvi, parlando per qualche breve istante, solo per rispondere alle domande delle più curiose. Per il momento eri riuscito a manovrare i movimenti affinché non incontrassi nessuno dei due. In ogni caso non è così difficile evitarli, Rakial non lasciava mai i pressi del palco dedicato ai reali - ci sei stata seduta molte volte nelle tua vita precedente. - Mentre Marianne, sempre accompagnata da qualcuno, proclamava dolci lodi a qualcosa che non ti eri curata di ascoltare. Non che in ogni caso fossi rimasta così vicina abbastanza allungo da sentirlo. A volte li perdevi di vista, persi in mezzo alla folla danzante e alle grandi colonne decorate. Forse avresti dovuto fare più attenzione, ti ricordavi a mente, sarebbe stato spiacevole incontrarli.

Qualcuno strattona il tuo complesso di strati di tulle e seta color panna. Un colore anonimo, il più anonimo ed elegante che hai trovato. Abbassi lo sguardo, con l’intento di rimproverare il bambino impertinente e fuori controllo che forse ti aveva notata. Ma che poi avresti cacciato con la scusa di essere impegnata. Solo che in quel momento il bambino fastidioso sarebbe stato davvero molto meglio del grazioso viso minuto di Marianne. Hai allargato gli occhi mentre ti afferra la mano che ti era caduta istintivamente al fianco. Una catena. Questo poteva sembrare in questo momento mentre non accenna a spostarla. Una sorta di promemoria del passato - o del futuro? - che ti era impresso addosso. Sentivi un mucchio di farfalle volare nelle tue orecchie e facevano un sacco di rumore, no aspetta, erano persone. Tante persone, una folla di persone. Tutte che guardavano dalla vostra parte, entrambe. Tu e Marianne. Parole soffocate su qualcosa come ‘essersi affezionata?'. No no no no. NO.

❝ Buona Serata Lady (nome), state bene? Perché siete qui tutta sola? ❞ ❝ Non sono-❞ Ti sei voltata ed effettivamente eri sola, chissà da quanto tempo. ❝ Sembrate pallida va tutto bene?❞ Hai posato di nuovo il tuo sguardo su Marianne che ora sorrideva ❝ Se volete posso tenervi io compagnia!❞ Non era una domanda, per quanto potesse suonare come tale. C’è voluto qualche minuto prima che tu potessi mettere insieme qualcosa di sensato e anche solo vagamente formale, distante ed educato.❝ Sarebbe per me un onore ricevere la compagnia di vostra altezza, ma non vorrei annoiarvi o ancora peggio sforzarvi. Ho sentito che vi siete appena rimessa.❞ Marianna teneva ancora stretta la tua mano - che non dava segni di voler lasciare - mentre pensava attentamente a quello che avevi detto. Non potevi scappare, non che lei volesse che tu scappassi era palese da come teneva la catena sua mano sulla tua. Ti sentivi come in quei giorni in prigione, aspettando inesorabile il giudizio che precede una fine lugubre. Il fiato veniva a mancare quasi come se il tuo corpo avesse deciso che era meglio morire, che finire nelle loro mani. Se non fossi così intenzionata a sopravvivere gli avresti dato anche ragione.

La principessa pensò per un attimo a cosa dire, mentre giocava incurante con le dita della tua mano più grande, rispetto alla sua. Dava la strana impressione che volesse rivelare qualcosa che teneva segreto e che solo tu avessi dovuto sapere. Un piano forse. Ma dubitavi sarebbe successo in mezzo a tutta questa folla di gente. ❝ In realtà io stavo cercando proprio te…❞ Hai sentito il cuore affondare, la consapevolezza di non averlo predetto ti ha colpito in pieno. ❝ma sembra quasi ti stessi nascondendo.❞ Un brillante sorriso sostituì l’espressione di dubbio. Ti sei d’attratto accorta che ti aveva chiamata per nome nome prima. Eppure non vi eravate incontrate prima. Anche se era stata lei a presentarti a Rakial nella tua vita precedente, sarebbe comunque dovuto accadere tra un anno e mezzo rispetto ad adesso. Ma hai liquidato tutto in un certo senso, attutendo la tua paranoia con l’intuizione che c’era sempre stato un piano più complesso dietro. Nella scorsa vita ti aveva fatta entrare in campo nel momento più opportuno per lei.

❝ Ma immagino sia solo perché eravate con quelle signorine.❞ Disse e si sporse per guardare le nobildonne con cui eri prima. Stanno ancora chiacchierando ancora animatamente dall’altra parte della sala. Non sembra si siano accorte della tua mancanza. Ti sei maledetta per non essere stata abbastanza attenta da stare al loro passo, di esserti distratta, e di aver sottovalutato questa bambina demoniaca. ❝ Marianne dove sei finita??? ❞ Riconosci la voce bassa e fredda, anche se non molto controllata. Hai cercato di allontanarti ma la mano di Marianne te lo ha impedito. Non capivi come questa bambina ancora parzialmente in convalescenza potesse essere così forte. O sei tu ad essere diventata più debole tutto in un momento. ❝ Sono qui fratello. ❞ Rakial appare con la sua espressione preoccupata. Se non fossi così contraria alla loro presenza o non li trovassi colpevoli della tua fine, come quella di Alissa, avresti potuto dire che erano carini. Ma tu eri ancora ovviamente contraria a loro.

Rakial si fermò per vedere come Marianne stava sorridendo e un respiro lasciò le sue labbra. ❝ Sono spiacente lady… ❞ ❝ (nome)! ❞ Non sei stata tu a completare la frase, e anche se avessi voluto non ne hai avuto il tempo, Marianne ti ha preceduto. ❝ Si certo. Sono spiacente Lady (nome), per aver attirato tanta attenzione così ingiustamente su di voi.❞ Non era la prima volta che lo faceva, solo che nessuno lo poteva ricordare apparte te e tu non eri disposta realmente a perdonarlo. Soprattutto quando sembrava il vero intento Marianne metterti al centro di qualsiasi attenzione indesiderata, a maggior ragione quando quella sembrava un modo per affiliarti a loro. Tutti in quel momento avrebbero potuto fraintendere, e l’unica cosa che ti sarebbe rimasta da fare sarebbe continuare a fingere che ti stesse bene stare con loro.

Dovevi evitarlo!

Attualmente il modo migliore era liquidare la conversazione nel modo più distaccato possibile, come se la loro presenza non fosse quella di due reali. ❝ Non c’è bisogno delle vostre scuse nei confronti di una umile ragazza. Sono io a dovermi scusare per aver rubato il tempo vostro, e della principessa.❞ Una punta di delusione si accese negli occhi di Marianne e forse non sembrava aspettarsi quel genere di risposta. Non avevi avuto incontri del genere con loro nelle tue vite passate, erano solo piombati all’improvviso nella tua tranquillità un giorno come tanti, senza che tu potessi prevederlo. Ma nemmeno visto sotto questo punto di vista e con le conoscenze che avevi adesso, avresti risposto come oggi a quel tempo, troppo ignara.

❝ Fratello penso che dovremmo invitare Lady (nome) a bere qualcosa con noi, infondo l’ho disturbata io. ❞ Non aveva lasciato la tua mano nemmeno quando aveva preso quella del fratello nella sua. Recitando un ultimo disperato tentativo di tenerti lì abbastanza tempo da far comprendere la tua importanza. Rakial ha guardato intensamente come la piccola mano di Marianne si aggrappava alla tua e come tu, in realtà, ti comportassi come se non lo stesse facendo. C’era qualcosa di famigliare, ma lo ha lasciato andare subito dopo, tanto che non sei riuscita a percepirlo nemmeno. ❝ Non ne vedo la necessità, vostre alte-❞ ❝ Sono io ad insistere questa volta. State molto a cuore a mia sorella quindi non vedo perché non concedere il beneficio del dubbio.❞ Ti sei sentita un giocattolo nelle mani di inquieti giocattolai… Ma forse se avessi resistito il tempo di un drink ora non avresti dovuto più rivederli in futuro. Ti sei annotata mentalmente di chiedere ad Uriel di darti qualcosa per simulare sintomi di un’influenza. Debole e malata non saresti stata più inclusa nel cerchie di quei due.❝ Anche se temo che una festa non sia il luogo ideale. Posso offrirle un the la settimana prossima. Marianne li adora.❞ Tu no invece, tu avevi iniziato ad odiarli proprio perché piacevano a quei due. Marianne annui fragorosamente, dimenticandosi per qualche istante che tu avevi cercato di allontanarti emotivamente da entrambi solo un attimo fa. ❝ Si si~ Mi piace molto come idea! ❞ ❝ Allora così sia.❞ Non hai avuto voce in capitolo per fermare tutto ciò. La tua mente si è maledetta per l'ennesima volta per la tua distrazione e semplicemente hai pensato a un altro piano. Dovevi solo far fallire il the party giusto?

Il tuo piano era fallito ancora prima che potesse iniziare davvero.

Non è passata neppure una festa a corte prima che tu fossi tirata nei piani di Marianne e nelle lotte di potere di Rakial. Eppure quello che avevi desiderato era semplice: fuggire. Ma forse non sarebbe stato possibile per te, in questa vita come in quella precedente. Non ti è stato possibile rinunciare ad incontrarli a quel thé che la principessa aveva organizzato. Marianne, Rakial e tu. Speravi che se ne sarebbero dimenticati, poteva capitare e tu di certo non ne avresti fatto una tragedia né ti saresti premurata di ricordarglielo. Ma l’invito ufficiale è infine arrivato e quindi non ti è stato possibile dimenticarlo o ignorarlo. Pensavi che il tuo tono scortese e irragionevole avrebbe fatto desistere la curiosità di Marianne nei tuoi confronti o semplicemente eliminare le tue possibilità come consorte o imperatrice a corte. Ma neppure quello era servito, le parole e spiegazioni di Marianne avevano dato un diverso significato alle tue azioni, comportamenti e parole. Niente è stato compreso come lo hai pensato e Rakial ha espresso solo il desiderio di avere un nuovo incontro, questa volta privato con te. Persone mature vi aveva definite. Se essere matura implica più incontri con lui avresti rinunciato ad esserlo. Ma poi sono arrivati sempre più inviti e lo stupore degli abitanti del ducato svanì come era arrivato, lasciando solo spazio a Felicità. Eri riuscita ad attirare la benevolenza della famiglia Imperiale portando prestigio di conseguenza anche al Marchesato, e poi alla vicina Vandrova. La maggior parte erano eventi a cui tu non eri invitata - o interessata -, incontri con altri membri della famiglia imperiale, dove questi ultimi sembravano apprezzare la tua presenza, una semplice giornata in privato con il principe o occasionalmente Marianne.

Poi un giorno, non particolarmente grigio e non particolarmente allegro, ti aveva chiesto di parlare. Solo tu, lui e L’imperatore. Un odore di delusione si era mescolato alla disperazione e alla rassegnazione che non avevi possibilità di fuggire da questo. ❝ Vieni cara, accomodati. ❞ Il salotto era accomodante ma non accogliente come avresti pensato, e il tono di voce dell’imperatore aveva più o meno lo stesso effetto solo molto peggio. Non c’erano posti in cui tu potevi sederti per stare lontana da Rakial e la disposizione accurata del servizio da the suggeriva che saresti stata vicino a lui. Ti sei seduta con un leggero malumore che nascondi per quello che riesci. Rakial prende un sorso di the con quell’espressione di chi finalmente riesce ad avere il controllo di qualcosa. Come se per la prima volta dopo una vita intera, qualcosa andasse per il verso giusto. Come era stato deciso e programmato.

❝ Non è molto tempo che frequenti il palazzo, vero? ❞ Hai spostato lo sguardo sull’uomo quando ha iniziato a parlare e ti sei trovata a concordare con la sua affermazione, anche se tu non l'avevi mai desiderato. E non sei stata neanche desiderosa di ampliare la cosa anche nella tua vita precedente ❝ Esatto vostra Maestà. ❞ Lui rise alla tue parole distanti e formali. ❝ Penso che dopo oggi tu possa far cadere le formalità, (nome) cara…❞ Lo avevi previsto arrivare, non eri una persona così ignara dopo tutto, ma ti ha spiazzata ugualmente. ❝… Vorrei un fidanzamento immediato da te e Rakial. ❞ Hai stretto i tessuti della gonna morbida che scivola ancora delicatamente lungo le tue gambe. Smetti solo quando la mano del principe si è posata sulla tua per frenare un qualsiasi attacco che avresti avuto successivamente.

❝ Ma so anche delle tradizioni di Vandrova, quindi ho chiesto già in precedenza la vostra mano a vostro padre.❞ Non eri una che seguiva le tradizioni ma questo non ti ha impedito di farglielo credere, ovviamente. Il periodo di corteggiamento a Vandrova era qualcosa di serio e iniziava l’interesse dall’uomo fino alla richiesta della mano della futura sposa, questo processo durava circa qualche mese se non anni in molti casi e avvolte la sposa poteva esserne inconsapevole. Decisamente non lo hai visto arrivare, ma come potevi aspettarti che volessero procedere alla maniera di Vandrova. Infondo calcolando il tempo che avevi passato dal tuo vero primo incontro in questa vita con Rakial non erano passati molti mesi. Quindi era qualcosa già programmato. Il vostro incontro a quel ballo era programmato, e avresti giurato che anche nel tua vita passata fosse programmato.❝ Non capisco, vostra Maestà. Cosa ci avete visto in me. Infondo avrebbe più vantaggi per il paese a sposare una principessa di Vandrova e non una comune nobildonna. ❞ L’imperatore non si fermò e prese un sorso della bevanda ambrata che gli era stata servita. ❝ Non è qualcosa che ti deve preoccupare. Abbiamo già preso accordi con Vandrova.❞

Giusto.

Il fatto che tu avessi cambiato vita non voleva per forza dire che loro sarebbero cambiati. Come allora, nemmeno adesso ti avrebbero detto quale era l’intento reale. ❝In ogni caso, sarà organizzata una cerimonia per annunciare ufficialmente il fidanzamento… ❞ Hai smesso di ascoltare persa nei tuoi pensieri. Hai annuito forse occasionalmente. Hai rimescolato i pensieri varie volte negli ultimi mesi. Niente che tu avevi progettato sembrava funzionare. Una sensazione di insensibilità ti percosse le braccia, e poi tutto il resto del corpo. Ogni speranza stava lentamente svanendo. Non eri riuscita a cambiare niente, eri esattamente allo stesso punto della prima volta, solo prima del previsto e con la consapevolezza di quello che sarebbe successo.Niente di quello che suggeriva Uriel, e niente di quello che proponevi ad Uriel sembrava funzionare. Tutto questo sembrava solo sempre più prevedibile a Marianne e al resto della sua famiglia che sventava tutto e ti gettava sempre più verso Rakial, che a sua volta sembra infatuato dalla tua sola presenza. Sarebbe stato troppo chiedere all’unica persona che era davvero tua amica di far qualcosa contro di Loro, in fondo era al loro servizio. Davvero non c ‘era nulla che tu potessi fare per fuggire…

❝ Rimani qui vado a prenderne un altro. ❞ Rakial ti ha passato il suo calice di vino chiaro, leggermente rosato, forse qualcosa di più tendente al lilla. Un misto di frizzante con profumo di fiori, che sapevi non essere normale. Non era di certo qualcosa che poteva piacere a qualcuno come Rakial. No. Eri certa che non gli piacesse, lo aveva fatto intuire chiaramente in passato e nella tua scorsa vita. Non era decisamente normale, questo era più simile all’odore di un veleno così familiare che potevi quasi esserne compiaciuta. Hai visto una certa ironia, il veleno che avevi usato anticamente per cercare di ucciderlo era dentro il suo bicchiere che ora era nelle tue mani.

Aconito.

Non ricordavi che avessero mai attentato alla sua vita in questo modo, o lo avevano nascosto bene o semplicemente non era mai accaduto in origine. Ma non fa alcuna differenza domandarselo, solo tu possedevi ricordi della vita passata quindi anche se lo avessi chiesto nessuno ti avrebbe dato credito al tuo farneticare. Forse saresti solo considerata pazza o delirante, o ancora avrebbe attribuito la colpa allo stress per l’organizzazione del fidanzamento. Hai fatto girare il liquido all’interno del bicchiere con mosse casuali pensando a cosa farne. Era fuori discussione che lo avvertissi, saresti stata classificata nel problema, e di certo non saresti riuscita a scambiarlo senza che sospettasse qualcosa o che sospettasse di te in generale . Potevi rovesciarlo, ma era pericoloso anche per contatto. Quindi la cosa meno naturale ma la più plausibile per te era ingerirlo, ed è quello che hai fatto. Tutt’uno fiato, prima dell’arrivo di Rakial e Marianne.

Secondo quello che potevi ricordare da quello che ti aveva detto Uriel, aveva un’azione abbastanza veloce, circa 30 minuti. Il che dava tutto il tempo a Uriel, sempre al fianco di Marianne, di evitare di intervenire per salvarti se mai l'avesse scoperto. Era il vostro patto, non vi sareste messo i bastoni tra le ruote e vi sareste aiutate fino in fondo. Avrebbe creato uno scandalo? Ovviamente. Ne saresti uscita viva? Speravi di no. Ti sei ricomposta quando sono arrivati, ed hai solo finto che stessi guardando l'esibizione della violinista sul piccolo palco a margine della sala da ballo. Offri un sorriso di cortesia mentre Rakial ti parla ❝ Se avevi cosi sete potevi dirmelo ti avrei portato un altro bicchiere.❞ Quale comune figlia di un Marchese chiederebbe mai ad un principe di portarle da bere. Ma lui forse ti aveva semplicemente messa sul suo stesso piano da quando si era iniziato a parlare di un certo fidanzamento.

❝ Non ce ne è bisogno.❞ Hai risposto il più educatamente e distantemente possibile. Probabilmente se avessi ingerito altri liquidi avresti rallentato il processo del veleno. Il tuo sguardo si posa brevemente su quello di Uriel che ti stava guardando come chi stava cercando qualcosa e un’espressione di consapevolezza lo colpì. ❝ Lady (nome) siete sicura di stare bene?❞ Uriel aveva iniziato a chiamarti con una tale distanza da quando hai iniziato a far parte delle cerchie di Marianne. Raramente siete riuscita a rimanere da sole quindi la normalità è diventato questa. La domanda del mago era sospetta, e forse era un campanello di allarme per i due reali. Erano passati più o meno 25 minuti da quando avevi ingerito il veleno, e sentivi già una certa fatica e difficoltà nel respirare, ma ti sembra di starlo nascondendo discretamente. Forse anche il tuo incarnato non aveva un bell'aspetto, dato che Rakial è impallidito quando passò da guardare il mago a te con un sguardo di terrore. ❝ Tutto bene, devo essere solo stan-❞ ❝ (Nome) parla.❞ Hai guardato il principe, come a dargli la colpa. Il tuo sguardo gli stava dando la colpa e lui forse stava arrivando alla soluzione senza che tu parlassi per forza. Ti sei sentita in colpa di avergli dato la soluzione. Non la meritava. Doveva sprofondare nella disperazione come avevi fatto tu.

❝ Ce ne andiamo. Abbiamo bisogno di un medico. ❞ Forse era comune per la famiglia imperiale rischiare la vita in questo modo, e da quello che potevi ricordare potevi confermarlo. Ed ora che hanno sventato per miracolo ‘ l’attentato’ nei confronti di Marianne tutto il protocollo per questo genere di attentati era decisamente più tempestivo. Ti sei allontanata e sentivi le tue gambe tremare, come se non riuscissi più a reggere il tuo stesso peso. Metti le mani avanti per allontanarlo, tutto gli avresti concesso ma toccarti era fuori discussione. Il solo pensiero ti aveva causato del ribrezzo. ❝ Vostra altezza ve l’ho già detto, sto bene. E’ solo stanchezza.❞ Hai fatto un passo indietro quando Rakial ne ha fatti due in avanti, questo è quello che le tue gambe ti hanno concesso nonostante il peso che sembravano portare di colpo. Nessuno nella sala sembrava accorgersi di quell’avvenimento e ti stava bene così. ❝ Non stai bene, devo portarti via. ❞ Lui non doveva fare proprio niente, non aveva nessun obbligo verso di te. Tu eri solo una sorta di dovere politico e non volevi essere trattata come se fossi una fidanzata o un’amante. ❝ (nome) ti prego ascolta il fratello.❞ Questa volta è stata Marianne ad intervenire, con quell’aria preoccupata, o era finta? Ogni sua espressione ti sembra finta o calcolata, quindi immaginavi non facesse eccezione nemmeno questa volta. Nemmeno quando tu eri in difficoltà, e non volevi il loro aiuto.

Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi Non lo volevi.

Ti senti delirante mentre la tua mente inizia a sfarfallare in mille tonalità diverse dalla realtà che sapevi di conoscere e ricordare, hai percepito un brivido percorrere la tua spina dorsale. Tisei ripetuta che fosse normale, d’altronde avevi ingerito del veleno.❝ Vi ho già detto che sto bene! ❞ E’ arrivato il secondo principe che forse sembrava aver compreso che qualcosa non andava. Hai fatto un’altro passo indietro mentre Marianne spiega spaventata la situazione al secondo principe. Il passo successivo, più faticoso del precedente, è stato il tuo ultimo. Sei caduta a terra tremante, permettendo al principe di avvicinarsi senza difficoltà, o almeno quasi. ❝ FERMO DOVE SEI, NON TI AVVICINARE!!!❞Hai urlato disperata attirando inevitabilmente gli sguardi della sala, che piombò nel più gelido dei silenzi. Rakial si era avvicinato quasi del tutto, solo qualche metro lo teneva distante e incapace di aiutarti. Il suo sguardo mutò dalla preoccupazione alla fredda sorpresa. Hai tossito portando la mano alla bocca. Una sostanza viscosa ha bagnato la stessa mano e hai compreso il perché dello sguardo di Rakial. Hai sentito la tua mente scivolare e vibrare verso qualcosa di insensibile. Il bicchiere in vetro che tenevi in mano ti è scivolato dalla mano che ora era diventata altrettanto insensibile. Stavi lentamente cadendo nell’oscurità, riservi uno sguardo al principe che stava parlando. Non riuscivi a sentire quello che voleva dire, era tutto ovattato al punto che niente era udibile. Hai visto più persone intorno a te che volevano aiutarti. Non sei riuscita a riconoscerli.

Hai maledetto a bassa voce lo stordimento e il fischio in fondo alla tua testa man mano sempre più forte, fino a sparire nella tua mente. In realtà tutto è svanito in quella placida e confortevole oscurità oscurità.

Hai canticchiato al mago che entra nella tua stanza, o maga, non ti era chiaro, ma non aveva ugualmente importanza. Il tuo aspetto non era uno dei migliori e i tuoi vestiti non erano tirati a lucido come i capelli e il trucco. Eppure a nessuno dei due poteva davvero importare. Ti sei unicamente permessa di essere felice di un viso amico. ❝ Oi (nome), hai finito di saltare le lezioni?? ❞ Non era il modo di riferirsi alla figlia di un Marchese ma a te non fa molta differenza. Non eravate mai stati nobile e mago, solo semplici amici. Getti la testa all'indietro e posi il tuo indice lungo e fino sotto il labbro inferiore. ❝ Non ero semplicemente interessata a quello che aveva da dire quella vecchiaccia❞ Una risata esce soave dalle labbra del mago e semplicemente ti porge un libro.

I caratteri del titolo sono illeggibili a causa dell’usura. Il cuoio era nero e complicati intrecci dorati percorrono il dorso usurato . Forse anche il titolo una volta aveva lo stesso colore scintillante. Le pagine ingiallite erano costellate di segnalibri. Alcuni con colori vibranti, altri più polverosi, altri ancora erano dipinti di fiori esotici altri invece di erbe che non potevi riconoscere.❝ Cosa dovrei farci? ❞ ❝ Apri dove c’è quello nero.❞ Tra i vari colori c’è un solo segnalibro nero, l’unico in realtà, ma risaltava poco con il cuoio scuro della copertina. Hai preso lo spunto per aprirlo e vedere un misto di parole stampate con inchiostro - per lo più date - scritte quasi del tutto illeggibili e sbavate, e infine diverse immagini della stessa pianta, in fasi diversi della sua crescita e in diversi utilizzi. ❝ Aconito?❞ ❝ Già❞ Hai riflettuto attentamente dopo aver letto il titolo. Ti sei soffermata su ogni lettera per essere certa di aver letto bene. Hai cercato attentamente a cosa volesse dirti mostrandoti quelle pagine ❝ E cosa dovrei farci?❞ Forse lo stava aspettando, infatti i suoi occhi brillarono alla domanda. Con quell’eleganza che tanto lo caratterizzava spostó il libro in mezzo, indicando un disegno. Era fatto con inchiostro e quello che sembrava gesso colorato. Il fiore raffigurato era al massimo della sua fioritura e bellezza - come scritto brevemente nella descrizione. ❝ Beh, vedi cara futura marchesa, - cita sempre il tuo futuro titolo ogni volta che aveva qualcosa di grandioso da dire - l’aconito è una pianta estremamente tossica per un essere umano, eppure estremamente comune qui a Edenverre… ❞ Non capivi ancora cosa voleva dirti, ti stava mostrando così casualmente una qualsiasi pianta nociva per lei, come per il mago e pretendeva che lei capisse. ❝ Uriel non mi piace quando generalizzi in questo modo. Parla chiaramente.❞ Il ragazzo rise e sposto il dito su una riga specifica del libro. Non aveva molto di straordinario, non era evidenziata da qualche segno e non aveva appunti ai margini che le spiegasse qualcosa che la facesse sembrare importante e difficile.

❝ L’aconito ha tossine che agiscono sul sistema nervosa, tuttavia è estremamente lento nell'agire e facile da riconoscere gli effetti… ❞ Iniziò a leggere le righe che aveva indicato, e il fatto che la stesse tirando per le lunghe ti stava innervosendo. ❝ …Ma se lavorata in un preciso modo, può diventare un veleno letale, senza molti sintomi visibili e difficile da rintracciare. ❞ Terminato di leggere, ha estratto una ampolla trasparente da una delle tasche della sua veste da mago. Sull'etichetta era scritto aconito con diversi disegni sbavati. Il vetro dell’ampolla era opaco ma si poteva ancora distinguere il colore lilla del liquido. Il tappo il sughero era sigillato a dovere con sostegni di cordicelle e quella che sembrava resina.❝ E il fato vuole che io sia riuscita a distillare quella pianta fino a renderla un veleno ancora più letale. Non è stato affatto semplice, sai? E solo tu lo sai! Ritieniti fortunata per questo, non tutti avrebbero questa fortuna.❞ Hai alzato un sopracciglio perplessa, non per le sue manie di protagonismo o per il suo ego smisurato, ma semplicemente per quello che ti ha presentata.❝ E con questo? Mi stai per caso dicendo che vuoi uccidermi? o che vorresti morire così un giorno? Non sei molto furbo se questo è il tuo scopo!❞ Un sorriso sghembo si aprì sulle tue labbra, alla sfacciata affermazione. Solo successivamente scoppiata a ridere insieme al ragazzo, dopo che lui ti aveva rimproverato per la tua scarsa fiducia in lui.

Il suo caschetto di capelli ruggine andò a coprirgli parzialmente il viso per le risate. Neanche il fermaglio posizionato su uno lati, era servito per impedire che succedesse e i suoi occhi corvini lacrimavano per lo sforzo, mentre la sua pelle olivastra assume tonalità rossastre. ❝ Davvero niente del genere. Ho solo pensato che se volessi uccidere qualcuno… potresti utilizzare questo così io saprei che sei stata tu e ti aiuterei a farla franca. E lo stesso se dovesse succedere a me.❞ Ti consegnò l’ampolla legata ad una cordina in metallo. Era una specie di ammonimento questa frase, come a prenderti in giro per la tua audacia sfiducia in lui, eppure tu lo avevi preso sul serio. Poi anche Uriel ha inizia a pensarla come una cosa seria. ❝ E va bene. Ma non pentirtene se dovessi uccidere il principe in persona.❞ ❝ Anche in quel caso ti proteggerei….

a proposito!❞ Ti sei allarmata quando si è alzato di scatto, serrando il libro e spingendolo sulle tue gambe. Inchioda i pugni ai fianchi per mettere in evidenza la nuova veste da mago, fluida e scura, decorata con dettagli preziosi e luminosi. ❝ Allora che ne pensi? Sono stato promesso a mago personale della Principessa Marianne.❞ Ricordavi quel nome, era una qualche figlia dell’imperatore che era stata trovata di recente e introdotta al castello imperiale. Per quanto ne sapevi aveva appena 8 anni, e aveva insoliti occhi dorati e capelli candidi, ma non sei davvero tipo da semplice gossip di corte. Avresti a mala pena ricordato i nomi dei principi e delle principesse, figuriamoci una comparsa dal nulla da qualche breve periodo.

Ogni membro della famiglia imperiale aveva diversi maghi che lavoravano sotto i loro stretti ordini. Ognuno un numero diverso al loro comando, dipendeva per lo più dall'importanza e la vicinanza al trono. Il principe ereditario -il più anziano tra i figli dell’imperatore- era quello che ne possedeva di più, anche se non si sentiva molto parlare di questo. Lo sapevi solo grazie alle chiacchiere della nobiltà più alta che incontravano i tuoi genitori e da questi ultimi.

❝ Sono stato proposto dal mio insegnante e sono stato preso. Sono il primo. ❞ Sembrava così orgoglioso che era quasi un peccato mandarlo giù dalla sua nuvola di fantasia. Hai riso quasi intenerita.❝ Primo e unico, è troppo indietro della linea successione per avere importanza per Imperatore. ❞ ❝ Almeno che non diventi una Santa, allora avrebbe un numero pari a quello del Principe Rakial❞

Ti sei voltata brevemente a guardarlo e molte parole non dette potevano essere udite. Ha accennato per un motivo concreto questa volta. Non è una di quelle cose che ti viene da supporre tutti i giorni. Non tutti i giorni una principessa diventa una Santa e dubitavi fosse mai accaduto. ❝ Ha una fede solida, e inoltre… l’ho vista compiere dei gesti pari ad un miracolo.❞ Sei rimasta in silenzio guardando il ragazzo ❝ In più è stato provato che non è una maga. ❞ Poi hai guardato il libro. ❝ … Penso anche su una santa possa funzionare questo veleno no?❞ Hai riso e Uriel rimase basito sul tuo cambio precoce di argomento. Un rimprovero ti arrivò dal mago che proteggeva la principessa che avrebbe servito. Era il suo compito come suo mago farlo, eppure non era qualcosa di serio.

Non avete più parlato di quello e hai nascosto l’ampolla di veleno, eri incurante che davvero ti avrebbe dato almeno un pò di soddisfazione nella tua vendetta.

Ti sei svegliata con la testa che pulsa, e con la malinconia e il tradimento di un vecchio ricordo. Apparteneva alla tua vita precedente. Ne eri più che certa di questo, nonostante l’intrecciarsi di queste vite che ti ha portato confusione e uno strano rimescolamento di ricordi, tuttavia potevi ancora ricordare che non eri mai tornata così indietro con la tua età questa volta. Hai lavorato duramente per cercare di trovare una posizione più comoda per i tuoi arti pensanti e doloranti solo per trovare difficile anche solo il pensiero di dover compiere un tale sforzo. Come se una decina di macigni fossero stati posizionati su ogni parte del corpo per rallentare i tuoi movimenti. Estremamente doloroso. Anche il semplice aprire gli occhi era faticoso, ma hai ugualmente portato a termine l’azione. Il pensiero del veleno che avevi ingerito è ritornato come una maledizione e la sensazione dolce del liquido con il frizzante del vino persiste ancora in bocca, forse senti anche il sangue. Un secondo ti sei chiesta cosa fosse successo dopo essere svenuta. Come avessero fatto a salvarti, in che condizioni eri durante tutta la tua incoscienza. Rakial ha pianto per te o semplicemente ha ignorato il tuo malessere una volta che il pubblico si era dissipato? Non eri certa lo avresti ami scoperto veramente, ma ha comunque una sottile e indifferente importanza.

La stanza in cui eri, era buia, ma ancora si può intravedere dei raggi penetrare da qualche buco tra le tende spesse che coprivano le finestre. Non sei riuscita a riconoscere la stanza in sé, ma l’arredamento costoso e antico dalle tonalità del blu reale e del bianco perlaceo ti hanno suggerito che era l’ala del castello riservata al principe ereditario. Negli ultimi anni della tua vita, prima di venire considerata colpevole, avevi soggiornato in questa ala del castello. E per quanto puoi non avere una buona memoria quello stile era inconfondibile. Per qualche ragione ti sei sentita ancora più vulnerabile e ingabbiata. ❝ Ti sei svegliata finalmente!❞ Ha parlato qualcuno e hai semplicemente spostato lo sguardo sulla figura alla tua destra, senza la possibilità di completare qualsiasi altro movimento. Rakial, in uno stato disastroso e disordinata, sedeva su di una sedia vicino al letto in cui eri adagiata. Il suo abbigliamento era lo stesso della festa solo mancava la giacca elegante e le medaglie ornamentali. ❝ Hai la minima idea di quanto mi hai fatto preoccupare. Io e Marianne! ❞ Era sempre lei, lei e Rakiel, che riguardava, mai te direttamente ma ormai ci eri abituata ❝ Per fortuna quel mago è riuscito ad aiutarti…❞ Si mise le mani sui capelli in modo frustrato.

Era palese che si trattasse di Uriel. Da sempre era interessato ad argomenti macabri e atipici, ma forse era per quello che era riuscito ad essere riuscito ad essere riconosciuto come un grande mago. I suoi interessi e curiosità lo hanno portato a scoperte e progressi mai avvenuti prima. Questo in passato ha solo favorito la fama e il prestigio di Marianne. Già… Uriel era proprio una persona bella e straordinaria, e per quanto i fini di Marianne fossero macabri lui aveva mantenuto una certa integrità e fascino , ma non aveva comunque mantenuto la sua promessa. Ma la cosa ti era solo adesso. Ti sentivi tradita, tradita dall’unica persona di cui ti fidavi e che credevi non ti avrebbe mai consegnato alla famiglia imperiale. Ma forse il giuramento alla corona valeva più della vostra lunga amicizia…

…Poi hai realizzato. Una freccia che ti ha trapassato il cuore e l’orgoglio… È stato Uriel a mettere il veleno nel bicchiere di Rakiel ma in realtà era sempre stato destinato a te. È stato Uriel a salvarti per conto del principe, lasciando una buona impressione del vostro rapporto da fidanzati. Uriel aveva deciso che tu meritassi di stare in questa famiglia. Uriel ti aveva condannata a un ciclo infinito di dolore. Lui ti aveva indotto a ripetere questo destino. Non hai pianto, per quanto ne sentissi il bisogno, era qualcosa che ti è difficile fare e che non ti eri ancora abbassata fare. Il tuo più grande amico aveva deciso il tuo futuro al tuo posto, e non mettevi in dubbio che ci fosse Marianne dietro a tutto questo. ❝ Marianne era così preoccupata per te. Era qui fino a qualche minuto fa… ti vede già come una sorella. ❞

❝ Credi davvero che io sia così stupida da non averlo capito?❞

Ti sei coperta gli occhi con il braccio. Eri stanca fisicamente e mentalmente, e il veleno che dovevi ancora smaltire insieme alla sola presenza del principe aveva reso il tuo mal di testa solo più doloroso. ❝ Pensi che non sappia che siete stati voi a pianificare tutto questo? Forse non sei coinvolto direttamente, ma questo non ti tira fuori da tutto il resto.❞ Una risata amara arrivò al principe seduto ora sul bordo del letto a baldacchino, troppo vicino a te. Hai perso l’istante in cui si era spostato ma sospettavi fosse mentre evidenziava la preoccupazione di Marianne. Potevi soffocare se potessi, ma non ti lascerebbe morire in ogni caso. ❝ Voi di Edenverre siete tutti uguali…❞ Hai sempre preferito dimenticare che anche tu avevi sangue di Edenverre, per il bene tuo e della tua vendetta. ❝ Non so di cosa stai parlando (nome). Penso che l’effetto del veleno non sia ancora scomparso e che tu stia solo delirando. Chiamerò qualcuno per risolvere la cosa.❞ Hai riso un’altra volta, solo più forte. Rakial si è fermato sui suoi passi, quando aveva utilizzato la sua scusa per allontanarsi. ❝ Sai… tutto questo non sarebbe dovuto succedere… o almeno non adesso e non a me...❞ Quando il Principe si voltò per verificare il tuo stato effettivo, ti trovò seduta, le gambe al petto e la testa gettata all’indietro con lo sguardo rivolto al soffitto. Come in attesa di qualcosa, forse stai ancora cercando il modo migliore per dirlo, esiste davvero un modo giusto?

Un lungo respiro lascia le tue labbra. Il dolore poteva sembra evaporare per qualche secondo, e poi ritornare quando ti sei fermata in quella nuova posizione. Ti sei dimenticata delle giunture e dei tendini rigidi e doloranti, del sangue che faceva fatica a circolare e del tuo respiro lento e affannato. Solo per un istante sentivi di avere un certo controllo. Sentivi di poterlo far sprofondare nella disperazione ma solo per un attimo. Quello racchiuso nella preoccupazione dei tuoi movimenti affrettati e improvvisi.❝ Allora io ti volevo morto… anzi ti voglio ancora morto…❞ continuavi parlando senza davvero pensarlo ma a questo punto solo la verità ti avrebbe libera… speravi che ti odiasse e ti classificate come criminale oppure mettesse in esilio all’impero. ❝ Eri in fin di vita dopo che che ti avevo avvelenato con il medesimo veleno che ora circola nel mio corpo… ironico non trovate, vostra altezza… ❞ Le tue parole erano anch'esse piene di veleno e lo sguardo della persona che ora odiavi infinitamente di più, era su di te. Un insieme di timore e confusione. Una amara vendetta.

Ecco forse il poter essere libera non ti bastava più o semplicemente perché sapevi di non poterlo avere. Ti sei rassegnata alla cruda realtà. Tu non saresti mai fuggita da lui. Da lui e da Marianne. Ora come ora la vendetta suonava in un modo decisamente più melodioso e possedeva un sapore più dolce e freddo di quanto potessi ricordare. Li avresti portati all’inferno con te. ❝ Aconito… Normalmente non sarebbe stato così difficile da individuare, ma distillato nel modo giusto può silenzioso e imprevedibile e molto più letale…❞ Tu eri viva per miracolo. Solo perché era stato Uriel a crearlo ed eri certa avrebbe creato anche un antidoto o un modo per fermare il veleno. Hai preso fiato, è difficile parlare in una linea scorrevole quando i tuoi polmoni non erano in grado di reggere anche solo una normale respirazione.. ❝ … Era il nostro codice. Lo avevamo deciso una volta. Non saremmo dovute intervenire l’una con l’altra, solo aiutarci a portarlo a termine.❞ Ti sei fermata e il sorriso insieme alla risata scomparvero con la stessa velocità con cui erano apparsi. Gli occhi sono freddi e indecifrabili, nessuno avrebbe mai potuto dire cosa stessi pianificando. Niente era leggibile nel tuo comportamento.

A questo punto Rakial doveva aver capito che si trattava del mago di Marienne. Gli aveva raccontato tutto, come gli era stato ordinato da Marianne, di questa promessa e che non sarebbe dovuto intervenire e nemmeno lei. Uriel aveva messo il veleno sotto ordine di Marianne e (Nome) lo aveva ingerito di sua volontà. Tuttavia Uriel aveva infranto questa strana promessa infantile e aveva seguito l’ordine datogli di salvarti. Ti sei voltata di scatto a guardarlo. La profondità del tuo sguardo lo colpì ancora di più. Infatuato e perso per la donna che lo voleva morto. Se ne avesse la possibilità e i mezzi lo avrebbe ucciso all’istante e ancora poteva trovarlo piacevole e intrigante. La sua fidanzata lo voleva morto, ironico e stupendo. Non era spaventato, solo sorpreso e affascinato. Ne voleva di più, non importa come. Non voleva distruggerla, sarebbe finito tutto così in fretta. La voleva per sé da amare e ammirare.

❝ Se volete tenermi al vostro fianco bene! Ma sappiate che finché avrò vita in questo corpo, non diventerete Imperato e non avrete vita facile.❞

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willspencerp · 2 months ago

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Heather Spencer è figlia di Will Spencer e Sarah Haniyeh Gonzalez,sorella minore di Tristan Spencer,nipote di Bill Spencer e Katie Logan,nipote di Liam Spencer e Wyatt Spencer.

Data di nascita:

2 agosto 2024

Genitori:

Will Spencer e Sakura Kazama (madre adottiva)

Madre biologica:

Sarah Haniyeh Gonzalez (deceduta)

Luogo di residenza:

Oxford,Inghilterra

Età:

23 anni

Relazione:

Impegnata con Lucas Rosales

Nemici:

Koda Judas,Oliver Martinez,Alessa Judas,Dio Judas e Claudia Wolf

Ex nemici:

Vincent Carter e Lucas Rosales

Fratelli:

Tristan Spencer

Amici:

Laith Haniyeh Gonzalez,Marcus Morales,Timur Haniyeh,Saddam Haniyeh e Salem Haniyeh Gray

Prestavolto:

Adelaide Clemens

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cupfullofpapas · 6 months ago

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(yes! finally new art :D!!) Second Vol in The Assistant series: In the arms of a Devil Rated: E F/M Cardinal Copia x F!Reader Papa Emeritus IV x F!Reader Also read it on my Ao3 here Previous Vol. : The Assistant Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Part 7: Oh when will my dear Cardinal come home

"What?, what?, Is everything okay? is Cardi okay?." You asked worry buzzing inside of you like a swarm of angry bees, Imperator placed her hands on your shoulders.

"No, no nothing like that sister please calm down, the Cardinal is just fine and on his way home as we speak however the tour bus is having some minor issues on which we are keeping an eye on, the thing I have to say is that-- Sister Emelia has taken ill meaning Secondo no longer has an assistant at the moment and you are our only option I'm afraid." You could tell that Imperator did not like the idea of you and Secondo being in the same room let alone working together once again either.

"What about Laiah, Sofia even Vittoria surely one of them has to have some of the same skills?" You watched as Imperator shook her head. "They may possess organizational skills but they do not possess the knowledge and skills that you do, there are no other options." Before you could continue to argue you watched the older woman turn on a heel and start to walk away. On either side of her were two Imperiale ghouls two that you hadn't noticed beforehand their tails swaying to and fro the most you knew about them were their names.

One tall and stock his skin tone had a bluish-grey tint to it his hair was shoulder-length with only one complete horn on top of his head the other had been broken long ago his name was Alto, and walking beside him was Anvil he was shorter than Alto his hair was put back into a bun a scar rested over the bridge of his nose.

"Well, this is perfect." You grumbled to yourself closing the door and retreating to your bed and ignoring the slick between your legs, no longer in the mood. Deciding to just go to bed not even the smell of your Cardinal was enough to make you feel better, your mind tormented you with the memory of the last time you and Secondo were 'together' the look on his face, the look of utter betrayal, hours passed before you were able to get any rest.

When morning hit you dragged yourself out of bed, got yourself ready, and fed your and Copia's fur babies. You also noticed that you'd have to get another cage soon the little pink nuggets were already getting fur. You followed your usual routine the day hadn't even started and you were already irritated. You wanted nothing more than to retreat back under your covers and stay there. Completing your morning begrudgingly you found yourself outside Secondo's office, with an inhale and exhale you knocked on the door a familiar raspy voice called from behind it.

"Entrare"

Entering you saw a set of exhausted eyes look up from the papers on the desk a fleeting look of anguish passed by them before being hardened, the hunched figure sitting up straight as your name passed his painted lips.

"What are you doing here ragazza?"

Secondo asked as his eyes drifted from you back to the papers that he had been working on as he dipped his quill pen into the small bottle of ink his elegant writing continued.

"Sister asked me to fill in for Emilia, I heard she was ill." You answered keeping things professional, it was best to let old memories and feelings stay buried. "I see, well there is the work, get to it sorella".

Secondo pointed the pen towards the desk, your old desk, venturing over you sat down eyes glancing at the area and appreciating that Emilia had kept her workstation neat and organized. Without a second glance, you pulled the folders over staring. Hours passed in silence the scribbling of the pens and an occasional clearing of a throat were the only noises.

"So". Secondo started "How have you and that stronzo sorella?", You shot him an aggravated look before looking back down at the papers choosing not to answer.

"I asked you a question woman, I expect an answer". "We are just fine, now please Secondo let me get back to work". You finally answered sounding more exacerbated than you meant to. Secondo only scoffed "After leaving me for-" He made a face as he spoke "A Cardinal, I would appreciate some communication and answers." "Answers to what?" "Why you left me, Bella". You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out you didn't have any words to give nor answers. "Secondo.." "No don't 'Secondo' me I want to know why". You watched as he stood from his desk crossing the small area, you had already stood up from your desk backing up until the cold wall pressed against your back the former Papa towering above your shorter frame. "Tell me tesoro, what can that Cardinal give you that I hadn't already?" This was so unlike Secondo usually he was silent and stern, this caught you off guard. Secondo had once convinced himself that he didn't need you that you were just a fling that he got slightly attached to and nothing more. But here you were in his office again doing the same work you once did, looking as beautiful as the day you walked away. "Secondo don't-"

"Answer me". His voice was commanding as he pinned you to the wall behind you. "I deserve an answer at least." There was barely any room between you his strong body against yours, unlike Copia you had to crane your neck back to look up at him. Feeling his gloved fingertips trace your sides and down over your hips where each strong hand gripped hard enough to both leave a mark behind and make you whimper.

A gasp passed your lips as Secondo ducked his head down his lips meeting your exposed neck and going right for the spot he knew would drive you wild, gasping your hands flew up to grab onto his Papal robe.

You hated that he still knew your body so well each little spot, each little button that drove you wild, mixing that with not having another's touch for months was a dangerous concoction one that caused a soft moan to pass your lips.

"You remember it, si?" Secondo's lips moved lower biting at the nape of your neck nibbling his way back up and stopping at your ear. "The way I felt inside of you? withering away in pleasure below me as I took you, dolcezza" his voice was deep, husky, and raspy.

You bit your lip your mind disobeying you making you remember it, vividly remembering it, being bent over his desk your skirt around your middle while you let Papa have his way with you, the pressure, pleasure, and pain when his cockhead abused your cervix each time his hips slammed against you.

You silently cursed as you felt your lower lips slick together you were wet, practically dripping as you felt his hand starting to slide your skirt up. For a split second, you heard his voice in your head, the voice of your Cardinal

........."Each time I thought a sorella or fratello loved me, wanted to be with me they always chose Terzo or Secondo-"...................

That was enough to snap you out of it as you pushed against the large man pinning you. "Secondo- Secondo stop". When he didn't listen you grew angry using all the strength in your small frame you shoved him back the man looking surprised.

"Secondo" You spoke firmly. "We had our moments, we had our fun that is all we were and all we will ever be I'm sorry that I hurt you but I am with Copia now and I can tell you what he gives me that you didn't, actual love he never left after we finished fucking I woke up to him still there and not alone in the bed feeling like someone's dirty little secret, I've moved on and now it's your turn to do the same".

You weren't sure where that surge of bravery came from be it anger or adrenaline but you were glad it did because it seemed to be enough to get through the former Papa's head. As he uttered an annoyed 'mi dispiace' as he once again gathered the shattered pieces of his pride, it was truly over. The rest of the evening you both worked in silence, you hoped that one day you would at least be friends again and put this behind you both.

Another month had come and gone and every time you and the ministry expected the band to come back something else popped up, to which Copia always called and told you even before Sister Imperator told you. Again you would wake up alone in your bed you had long stopped getting excited when you heard a big vehicle pull into the ministry parking lot.

The sound usually being a delivery van so when you did hear something pull in you didn't run to the window like the rest of your sin siblings, not until you heard one of them squeal 'They're back!' Your breath caught in your throat, back? as in back, back? as in your Cardinal was home? not waiting for another second you made your way quickly down to the lobby where the large doors opened.

First, the ghouls walked in tiredly several siblings walking them off to the den to rest and then that's when it happened you locked eyes with your Cardinal you felt like pinching yourself to make sure that this wasn't another one of those torturous dreams where you jumped for your Cardinal but was only met with the bedroom floor. You threw all caution to the wind as you ran from the base of the grand stairs to him watching as his arms opened wide you could feel the sting of tears hit your eyes as you lept toward his awaiting arms.

Tag list: @thesoundresoundsecho @xpapaemeritus @copiasprincipessa @siouxbauhaus @strawberrypimpsimp

#the band ghost #ghost #copia #cardinal copia #ghostau #papa emeritus 3 #secondo #papa secondo #papa emeritus 4 #Cardinal Copia x F!Reader #Cardinal Copia x Reader #Papa emeritus IV #papa emeritus IV x reader #Papa Emeritus IVx F!reader

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da-rulah · 1 year ago

Text

Rituale Septem - Day 1: Lust

Pairing: (Terzo x f!reader)

Summary: You agree to partake in the Ritual of Seven, devoting yourself entirely to a sin each day. And Papa Emeritus III is there to guide you, starting with some harmless flirting to build up to day one...

Rating: Mature, MDNI 18+

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: Teasing, brief footsie, pent up lust, aggressive but consensual, lingerie, fingering, hair pulling, minor choking, fishhooking, p in v sex, squirting, creampie

AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Prev: Prologue | Next: Day 2 - Sloth

“You’re sure?” “Yes.”

“Double sure?”

You sigh. “Yes!”

“...Triple sure?”

“Papa, yes! I’m sure. We’ve been over this. Just tell me what the rules are, how do I make sure I do this correctly?”

You sat in another private meeting with Terzo, this one just over a week before the ritual was due to begin. You needed more information, you needed the rules and the quid pro quos ahead of time. No way were you going to mess this up... No silly little slip ups, nothing to derail your devotion.

“Okay well, from my research I’ve figured out that it is one sin per day, beginning on October 25th. October 31st, you perform your final sin. They don’t need to be in any particular order, and you can either embody the sin yourself, or make somebody else perform the sin as long at it's with you. So uh, if you were to make someone else angry at you and then act on that – to His taste, of course – that would count towards wrath.”

“Understood. Do we... plan these things?” you asked, wondering if it might be easier to map out which sin you would perform and how. Terzo looked up at you from the notes he’d created, sprawled out on his desk. He’d done extensive research; solo, to keep the prying and judgmental eyes of the clergy unaware of what was to come. This was your shared secret.

His research had been difficult. There wasn’t a lot of readily available material on such a ritual. But then, there rarely was when it came to the rituals that invited Lucifer himself to talk directly to the subject. Still, when he found himself ready to give up on the matter he would remind himself of the desperation in your eyes, your tiredness, your devastation. And he’d remind himself of Sister Imperator’s doubt in him.

It was plenty fuel to the fire. He would not give in. He would not let you down.

“A plan, cara? Boring.” He smirked in your direction, “I shall plan a few things, I suppose, but I think it might be more fun if I surprise you. After all, who schedules sin?”

You supposed he was right – for the ritual to work, the sins need to be genuine, to be authentic. You couldn’t simply force them. And Terzo was certainly more experienced in sin that you... Strangely, you trusted him.

“Y-yeah, okay...” you mumbled in agreement.

“Bene, then we will begin when the moment feels right on October 25th.” He stood from his desk, gathering his notes into a neat pile. He looked down at you, his eyes darkening and a smirk settling on his face. Before he dismissed you, he left you with what you could only imagine was a promise...

“I’ll see you around, Sorella ...”

October 17th

Terzo had been making up excuses to have meetings with Secondo – which of course, you had to attend as his assistant. But there was a purpose for this, one that he considered to be an important one.

He had no idea if you were attracted to him or not, if you had ever even looked at him in that regard. Usually it was fairly obvious to him, but with you... Secondo had kept you to himself, he hadn’t spent a whole lot of time around you to know if your eyes had ever wandered, if your thoughts were ever slightly impure towards him. And so, he needed to use the time he had left to woo you, essentially.

He had eight days before the ritual was due to begin, and he was going to use every opportunity in those eight days to wind you so damn tight that when the 25th did roll around, neither one of you could keep yourselves apart for long.

It was all in the anticipation. The chase. The temptation.

In today’s meeting – a pointless endeavour that Secondo whined about, complaining this could have been a phone call or an email – Terzo refused to tear his eyes from you. Even when speaking to his brother, he would be staring at you. You tried to ignore it, to remain professional but you could feel his eyes burning into you, as if scorch marks were being left in trails over the skin he imagined exposing.

Secondo noticed. There was no way he could not. But knowing his brother, Terzo had just decided you were the new object of fascination to him. He had no idea of the upcoming ritual, the agreement you’d made. He assumed his fratellino was just interested in pursuing you, the latest in a long line.

“Terzo, if you could concentrate...” he grumbled.

“I am concentrating, fratello,” he quipped, eyes still never leaving yours. You gulped and looked nervously between the two men.

“On me, piccola merdina (little shit),” Secondo demanded. Terzo tore his eyes from yours slowly, inhaling through grit teeth as if it pained him to do so. “Grazie. ”

Secondo continued to talk mindlessly about colours for drapery at the All Hallow’s Eve ball while you squirmed in your seat. You knew Terzo’s eyes kept flickering back to you, watching you, studying you. His gaze was heating your cheeks, setting your teeth on edge. He looked at you as if you were prey, like he was waiting for the opportune moment to pounce.

You almost wished he would.

Eventually, the meeting had to end. And by the time it did, Secondo was in a foul mood, annoyed at his brother’s actions. You must remember to thank Terzo for that later...

As you were heading out of the door behind him, Terzo gripped your elbow, pulling you back against his chest as his brother stepped outside. Your gasp was muffled by a white glove slapping over your mouth to keep you quiet, avoiding suspicion.

“I just wanted to tell you,” Terzo whispered into your ear, the warmth of his breath tickling your lobe and exposed neck. The hand on your elbow now dancing with the hem of your short skirt, the fabric of his gloves tickling your bare thigh underneath. “You look deliziosa (delicious) in this habit, sorella. Potrei mangiarti per intero se solo tu me lo permettessi (I could eat you whole, if only you would let me.)”

And then he let you go, running on unsteady feet to catch up to your grumbling Papa ahead.

It was now clear what he was doing. And not being one to back down from a fight, you silently took on his challenge.

Game on, Papa.

October 20th

The monthly clergy dinner. This was your chance.

Once a month, the clergy and papas – along with their assistants – would sit down for a meal together. After Papa’s little games in the last few days, teasing and gawking at you wherever he could, you figured this was the best time to get your revenge, to put the wheels in motion, so to speak.

Because Papa had to be on his best behaviour here.

You’d waltzed in with Secondo and sat in your seat opposite Terzo’s own assistant, Sister Christine. Papa sat at the head of the table, to your left. Secondo, to your right. You felt his eyes on you immediately, and you were almost certain you’d heard a ‘cazzo’ under his breath when his eyes fell on you.

The monthly clergy dinner was an opportunity to wear something nice, other than your habits, as long as you kept your veil on to show your standing. So you picked something you figured Terzo may have a hard time ignoring.

There was nothing wrong with the length of your dress, past the knees and quite conservative. But the way it exposed your shoulders, your collarbone and your breasts... That was where the struggle lay. The sleeves – more like separate gloves – began halfway down your bicep and hooked around your middle finger in a point, a deep red material to match the wine you were drinking. The neckline was level with the sleeves, your cleavage pushed up and on display, grucifix nestled nicely in between. Only when you walked in could he see the tight material clinging to your curves – once you were sat, he had nowhere to look other than your exposed shoulders and chest.

When you had gone to Secondo’s office that evening to ‘pick him up’ for dinner, even his gaze had lingered a little too long. That’s how you knew this would work.

“That’s a beautiful dress, Sister _____,” Christine pointed out, smirking as she noticed the look on her boss’ face. “That colour is sublime on you.”

“Thank you, Sister. I’ve had it for a while and the occasion never really called for it, but I just thought to hell with it,” you toyed, leaning forwards on your elbows and subsequently pushing your breasts together to torment your poor Papa further.

When the Ghouls brought out the meals, you took another opportunity. Making what you would call ‘yummy noises’, except... exaggerated. Wanton moans and little gasps with every new flavour as your painted lips wrapped around your fork.

Papa’s hands tightened around his own cutlery, his jaw clenching as he glared at you.

Secondo beside you was aware you were doing more than usual, but rolled his eyes and focussed his attention on Primo beside him. Perhaps he could have a mature discussion with him, instead.

Terzo was struggling beside you, trying to remain professional, to keep up conversation with the cardinals and clergymen at the table. Cardinal Copia had tried to ask him what his plans for this Sunday’s Black Mass were and if he needed any help at all, but Terzo couldn’t think straight, claiming he hadn’t thought about it yet.

Dessert nearly killed him.

“Sorella, what do you think you’re playing at, eh?” he whispered to you when the Ghouls took your empty plates.

“What do you mean, Papa?” you asked sweetly, right as you began to raise your heeled foot to graze against his inner calf. His eyes widened in shock – he'd never known you to be this bold, this provocative.

You felt his legs part as he sat back against his chair, his eyes lingering on you, daring you to continue. And you did, raising your foot to the inside of his knee, able to manoeuvre your way to graze his inner thigh to about the halfway point before you could reach no further at the awkward angle.

His gloved hand gripped your ankle under the table, tightly squeezing in warning before he pushed it away. You subsided, knowing you had won this one.

You left him alone for the rest of the night to his sinful thoughts and dark glares your way.

October 22nd

You’d stayed out of Terzo’s way since the clergy dinner, hoping to build a little tension between then and when you would have to see him again at Black Mass.

The Mass itself was uneventful. You sang the hymns, partook in the prayers like a good Sister should. And then came communion.

You’d planned this already, and as you waited in line on your knees on the chapel steps beside your Siblings, your eyes homed in on Papa.

You’d never noticed before, perhaps because you’d never really looked, but he looked incredibly powerful in his robes. Thinking of the way you were teasing your Papa recently, building the anticipation towards that first night together... it sent a pang of heat between your legs, and you shuffled in your spot.

He came to you and remained professional. He was surrounded by siblings, cardinals, clergy... he couldn’t slip up. Not now. He had to remain stoic, no matter how torturous it was to have you on your knees before him...

You stared up at him through your lashes, opening your mouth and laying your tongue out for him to place the little cracker on. As he did, you closed your lips around his thumb, sucking a little on the leather of his glove, the cold gold nails tasting like old pennies. His eyes hardened, and he retracted his hand quickly as if you had bit him.

Around his thumb you could see the remnants of your red lipstick, and you smirked in triumph. He wiped his thumb on his robes before taking the chalice of wine from Cardinal Copia behind him – who whilst assisting him, had also noticed your little tease and gulped to himself at the sight – and tipping it against your lips.

A droplet spilled from the corner, dribbling down your chin which you quickly caught with your finger and licked off, all the while holding eye contact.

Terzo filed that image away for later of the red wine dripping down your chin. Information he could store for the future...

But for now, he ignored you – and the aching hardness beneath his robes.

October 24th

He hadn’t anticipated you would be as feisty as you were, that you would play his little game with him and more so, end up winning. He couldn’t allow it. He had to try and get the upper hand.

But he was already so pent up, refraining from indulging in any of the other Siblings or Ghouls since your agreement had been made. He hadn’t even jerked off, although that was getting more and more difficult to fight...

The amount of teasing, of flirting and being downright obvious that you were both riling the other up was starting to get to his head and now even the slightest thing was enough to drive him wild about you. He felt like a caged animal.

And so who could really blame him when he walked past you, alone in a hallway where you had smirked and avoided eye contact with him, and he had turned on his heels and dragged you by your elbow into the nearest alcove...

He shoved you against the wall, his body covering yours and trapping you in the confined space. Before you had time to register what was happening or utter a single syllable, his mouth crashed against yours.

His hands were on you, holding your hips against the wall as he pressed himself against you. You didn’t fight; frankly the willpower to fight it had dwindled days ago, and here he was giving you what you both wanted, what you’d both been working up to.

You kissed him back with reverie, your fingers threading through his dark hair and pulling him impossibly closer. The need between your thighs grew incredibly strong with every roll of his hips against you. You were drowning in him, finally ...

Terzo let out a low growl, fighting a battle in his head. He wanted you now. But if he could wait one more day... He had to wait one more day.

With a grunt and a loud smack to the wall beside your head he pulled off you, smoothing his hair and walking off down the hall with a scowl on his face, as if nothing had happened.

You leaned back against the wall panting, mouth agape in shock. He didn’t look back at you once, just rounded the corner leaving you with heart palpitations and a pooling feeling in your core...

Tomorrow could not come soon enough.

October 25th

Today, it began.

Your schedule was busy, which concerned you. You had work with Secondo, several meetings in the diary. But your evening was free, and you assumed that Terzo would find his way to you then. With just a few hours left until you gave in to him, until you could finally have him, you were incredibly on edge.

It had taken you entirely too long to roll out of bed that morning, needing to hurry getting ready and haphazardly dressing in your pre-thought-out habit and veil – with a sneaky little surprise underneath... When you’d rushed to Secondo’s office, you barely made it in time for your first meeting of the day; a Latin curriculum debrief with Cardinal Copia you were due to take notes from.

You liked the Cardinal, he was the kind of man who put you at ease. Mostly because he was so timid himself, a very sweet man who would try to brighten anyone’s day he could. You were glad when you’d been told he was your first meeting with Secondo, thinking maybe he could ease your anxiety. Alas, he seemed a little on edge himself, refusing to look you in the eye for too long at all. You couldn’t entertain it today – you focussed solely on your notes and the meeting at hand.

The morning passed painfully slowly, drab meetings with bishops and cardinals alike dragging on as if the earth had slowed on its axis. When Secondo dismissed you for lunch, you let out a breath of relief.

“I need you back before 1pm, Sorella. We have a meeting with Terzo at one o’clock sharp,” he stated plainly as he scribbled on some documents.

Shit. This would be torturous.

This had been a good idea at the time, an easy way in, to tempt you into coming back to him that evening. But Terzo had misjudged his decision wildly, not knowing when he’d put this meeting in Secondo’s diary that he would be down so fucking bad for you that every tiny little thing you did made him swoon like a touch-starved Victorian gentlemen. He was simply grateful he’d asked Sister Christine to run some errands for him today, and she wasn’t also present to witness his agony – she would have picked up on it immediately.

He noted how uncomfortable you looked, squirming in the chair in front of his desk next to Secondo. He noted how you refused to look at him, busying yourself with a notebook and pen as Secondo droned on and on about the All Hallow’s Eve ball and the preparations. He noted how fucking beautiful you looked, with flushed cheeks and anxiously bitten lips.

His composure was waning, eyes raking over your form as you bounced your leg nervously. Your thigh wobbled under your short skirt and with every bounce his muscles tensed in his body just a little bit more. You twirled your pen in your fingers, and he imagined what magic you could possibly do with them. You fidgeted in your place, hips circling to find a comfortable position to sit, and he wondered how it would feel if you’d been sat in his lap.

Every. Tiny. Little. Thing. Was driving him to distraction.

You’d never been so uncomfortable in your life, knowing Papa was watching you very closely. In your haste to get ready this morning, you hadn’t quite dressed yourself properly. The zipper at the back of your habit was digging in between your shoulder blades where it had been done up in haste. Your tights felt uncomfortable around your behind where they hadn’t been adjusted comfortably. Your veil kept slipping back on your hairline, not properly pinned to hide your hair.

And with Terzo’s eyes scanning over you, a thick tension between you, you noticed these things even more.

You sighed quietly to yourself as Secondo droned on about the menu options for the ball, reaching up to your veil to push it forwards on your head, covering your hairline again as you had at least six times in the last twenty minutes. It just would not stay.

“Sorella, are you alright?” Secondo asked, noticing your exasperation.

“Oh, sì, papa. Excuse me...” you smiled awkwardly, willing him to continue and pay no mind to you. He did just that, continuing his waffle. Terzo ignored him, eyes trained on you as the veil slipped again.

This time you reached up, pulled it from your head, figuring you would just start a fresh. Your hair fell around your face, draping over your shoulders. Terzo would swear blind it happened in slow motion, like a scene in a shitty made for TV movie. But he couldn’t help the feeling of being punched in the gut, seeing you unveiled and exposed. How beautiful you fucking were...

“Get out.”

Both you and Secondo looked up at Terzo, his eyes dark and heavily lidded, staring you down.

“Fratello, don’t be so rude. She is just adjusting her veil, she means no disrespect. I need her to stay,” Secondo protested, annoyed at his brother’s tone. How dare he speak to his assistant like this?

“Not her. You.” His eyes never moved. His voice deepened.

“Scusi? ” Secondo seethed.

“Get. Out.” Terzo punctuated the words through grit teeth, annoyed that his brother hadn’t just disappeared in a puff of smoke like he so wished in that moment.

Secondo looked at you, finding you staring back at Terzo with wide eyes and parted lips, holding your veil in one hand that was still raised by your head where it had paused as you’d slipped it off. His eyes darted between the pair of you, seeing that neither one of you moved, neither one looked in his direction.

“Per l’amor di Satana (for the love of Satan),” he muttered and rolled his eyes, slamming his own notebook shut in his lap and standing quickly. The noise made you jump, suddenly looking up at your Papa. You wanted to speak, to ask he stay and apologise but Terzo’s hungry gaze stopped you.

Secondo stomped out of the room, but not before turning back to the pair of you to find you looking at him like a scared little puppy dog and Terzo still staring only at you.

“I need her back by 3:30pm, Fratellino. Or I will have your balls in a jar,” he warned, before slamming the door behind him.

The silence that fell on you as you stared at the closed door your boss had just left through felt eerie, as if static electricity was building around you before a lightning strike.

And strike, he would.

He stood from his desk with a startling scrape of his chair. Your head snapped back to him, only to be met with a glare that should have terrified you. Except, it only excited you... The embers of arousal that had been simmering on a low heat for the last week since he’d first caught your elbow and whispered sweet temptations to you were being stoked – by a simple glare.

He didn’t move though. Instead, he lifted his hand, curling his finger and beckoning you to him. Wordlessly, you rose from your seat slowly, laying your notebook and pen on the chair behind you and playing nervously with your veil you still held as you watched him.

“Here,” he pointed at his desk, prodding his gloved finger on the wooden surface before him. You stepped around, squeezing between him and the desk – he hadn’t left much room to work with intentionally, enjoying the way you tried hard to evade brushing your chest against his with a smirk etching into his paints. You leaned against the wood, waiting for further instruction.

“I’m sure you’ve been intentional, Sorella. Well played,” he congratulated, his voice dark and lower than usual. He pressed himself against you, leaning both his fists on the wood either side of you, trapping you. “But perhaps you have done too well in tempting me, eh? Because I simply cannot hold myself back any longer...”

“I...I...” you stuttered, wanting to reply and fumbling any kind of sense.

“We begin with lust,” he announced, and that was when the static in the room came to a head, and lightning struck.

His lips were on you in a suffocatingly heated kiss, hands gripping onto your habit at your hips and shoving you against his own. You too were so pent up from the week of teasing and flirting with each other you matched his ferocity, allowing the lust you’d built to spill over. Your hands were in his hair in a flash, pulling him to you by his roots and he groaned into your pliant mouth.

You were under no illusion that this would be particularly romantic, nor that it would last particularly long, but what you hadn’t expected was Terzo’s desperation for you to match your own.

He crouched slightly, picking you up by the swell of your backside and shoving you onto the desk to step between your thighs. You could feel his erection against your core, and already you couldn’t help the mewl that fell from your mouth. He chuckled as he disconnected his lips from yours for a moment, allowing you to breathe and for more little whimpers to escape as he ground himself into you again.

“Sorella, would you like to know a secret?” he asked as he sloppily kissed the corner of your mouth and under your jaw...

“Mhmm...” was all you could muster.

“Since you agreed to the ritual, I haven’t had another sibling,” he admitted between kisses, “haven’t touched myself once.”

His confession swam in your mind; he’d saved himself for this. Sure, it had only been a little over a week, but you thought for sure he would have taken his frustrations out on another sister if he couldn’t yet have you.

“All I wanted was you, Sorella. Was this...” he growled as his hand dove between your thighs to what he’d truly wanted for the last nine days. Somehow, he’d found his way under your habit, cupping his palm against you and grinding it into your clit, still hidden by your tights and underwear.

“Papa...” you moaned, unwilling to stay quiet at all. “I need you.”

The dark laugh that vibrated against your neck where his trail of kisses ended raised goosebumps on your skin.

“And whose fault is that, hm?” he quipped. “You rile your Papa up and then beg him for release?” he straightened up, smirking down at you. “Is that how this works?”

“I’m... I’m sorr-”

Before you could finish his lips were back on yours, his hand retracted from your core much to your dismay but now unzipping the back of your habit and dragging it down over your shoulders. He exposed you to him, although with his eyes shut as he dragged his tongue across your bottom lip, he was yet to see just what you’d worn for him.

But he was an impatient man after what you had put each other through, and to rip the rest of your habit from you he would need to see what he was doing, lift you to slide it from around your ass. But when he laid eyes on you, his stopped dead, fabric sitting at your hips instead.

"Shit ...”

You weren’t sure if Terzo was a lingerie kind of man, but then again, what man was not a lingerie kind of man? Your suspicions were proven when he saw what you were wearing for him.

A deep purple bra, made of mesh to leave nothing to the imagination, with an embroidered snake on each of the cups. The exact same purple as his Papal robes, hung up in a glass cabinet against the back wall of his office.

“Is this new, dolcezza ?” he asked, running a finger under one of the straps.

“Sì, Papa... The purple-”

“Matches. How sweet of you...” he grinned wickedly. “Is it part of a set?” he arched an inquisitive eyebrow. His spare hand lifted the skirt of your habit, running his glove along the top of your thigh and pushing the material higher and higher until he got a peak at more purple fabric, darkened by your sheer black tights.

“Do you like them?” you teased, leaning back on your hands and spreading your legs to give him a better view of the purple mesh that did nothing to hide your glistening folds, meant for tempting and not for practicality.

“Oh, but Principessa, I can’t see them properly...” he pouted, when suddenly his hands gripped the material of your tights on your inner thighs and ripped.

The fabric didn’t stand a chance, a large hole tearing around your inner thighs and crotch to expose the rich purple of the mesh that covered you. You let out a squeak in shock, the feral nature of it forcing your walls to flutter in arousal.

“Better. Now...” he held his fingers in front of your lips, horizontal, “bite.”

You did as instructed, biting gently on his fingers. He started to retract his hand, his white glove stuck between your teeth as he shimmied his fingers out of it. Then, he rolled the sleeves of his pale pink long-sleeved shirt up his to his elbows, exposing the dark hair and veins of his strong arms.

“Brava ragazza, keep it there. You drop that, you’re in trouble...” he booped you on the nose playfully, and suddenly that very same bare hand dipped between your thighs, pushing the mesh to one side and dragging a line through your folds with his middle finger.

The moan you let slip would have been pornographic if not for the glove you kept tightly locked in your jaw, your head lolling back and eyes fluttering shut. Terzo leaned into your now exposed neck, sinking his teeth into the flesh and sucking as his fingers continued to work you over, circling your clit in just the way you liked.

“I had plans for you, Principessa,” he mouthed against your neck as he spoke between each deep bruise he left, “but I’m afraid I can’t control myself much longer.”

The way his fingers felt against your entrance as he began to tease your quivering hole was euphoric, you wanted nothing more than to sink down onto the digits and take your pleasure from him where you sat. But he had other ideas.

“Still, you will cum on your Papa’s fingers first, sì? I will be sure of that,” he promised, finally sliding two fingers inside you. With how soaked you were, you took them with ease, back arching and pressing your chest against him. His lips mouthed wet and sloppy kisses from where the purple bruises had formed on your neck – prettily matching your chosen lingerie – down to your sternum and over the curve of your breasts.

Terzo began curling his fingers inside you, manoeuvring in search of that spot inside you that could make you see stars. Having never been with you before, he didn’t know what made you tick, what made you feel good. But he was going to find out and take mental notes. When he found it, you sure let him know...

“F-fuck, Papa...” you whined, stuttering as your head flew forward to look down between you, seeing his hand buried deep within you. You kept his glove tightly between your teeth still.

“There she is, eh?” he smiled smugly. Now he knew where, he began his vicious assault between your thighs. Over and over again, he curled his fingers and hit that same spot. You couldn’t help the moans, the way your fingernails dug into his bicep beneath his shirt, the way your forehead fell against his shoulder. And when his thumb began to work over your clit in smooth, calculated circles... You lost your damn mind.

“Papa!” you cried, glove long forgotten by both of you as it dropped to the floor. Your hips bucked wildly against him where you sat against the desk. He grunted as he bit the mesh of your bralette, pulling it down to expose your nipple to him and latching his lips around it. As he began to suck, laving his tongue over the nub intermittently, he couldn’t help but rut his bulge against your knee. He was so desperate for you, but he wanted you cumming on his fingers first, with good reason.

He knew that to have you cum before he sank into your heat would make you so much wetter, filthier, tighter. And the second orgasm on his cock would warp your mind completely.

Yes, that’s what he craved.

Your thighs began to shake, vibrating your knee against his clothed cock as his fingers worked furiously to drag an orgasm from you. His sloppiness as his mouth engulfed your nipple grew tenfold at the sinful noises you made for him, a litany of profanity and his title rolling from your lips. He could feel your walls clenching around his fingers, fluttering and producing a seemingly never-ending slew of slick he could use to his advantage, particularly on your clit as his thumb gathered it to use against you.

“Cum for me, Principessa,” he barked as an instruction, “NOW!”

As if you had given him the control over your body, you obeyed. The coil in your abdomen snapped, walls clenching Terzo’s fingers so tightly he could barely drag them out of you, only able to curl them to keep up his stimulation. Your hand flew to his wrist and squeezed, terrified he might retreat too soon, but he wouldn't dare.

“Brava ragazza, la mia Principessa... (good girl, my princess),” he growled, still rutting himself against your knee, just slower in time with his hand slowing to a stop as you came back down. He stood up straight in time to catch you slumping against his chest, nuzzling into the soft fabric of his shirt.

When he slipped his fingers from you, he tilted your head up to look at him from below, and slipped his slicked digits into his mouth, holding eye contact with you as you watched him clean your essence from him.

“Così dolce, (so sweet...)” he hummed. You giggled, breathless. He’d knocked the wind out of you, for sure. But you knew he wasn’t done with you yet, as whilst he had stilled his hips against you, he was still pressed against your leg. And you could feel his thickness, waiting...

“Papa... You haven’t seen my favourite part of my outfit,” you teased, words forming slower than normal in your hazy state.

“Oh?” he was confused, until you gathered yourself, standing from the desk and shrugging your habit off you completely to the floor. You pushed him back with just one finger, his confusion making him pliant and intrigued, following your instruction. You smirked, and turned around, laying your chest flat against the wood of his desk.

You heard a gasp from behind you.

The mesh panties you were wearing as part of your set were not simply just mesh across your backside. Instead, two embroidered purple snakes – much like the ones on the bralette – faced each other, one on each cheek of your ass.

The view Terzo had was impeccable, ripped tights allowing only some of the purple to be as bright as the rest, but he could clearly see where your panties were still pushed to one side, your glistening and swollen folds on display for him. You were presenting yourself to him, to use as he deemed fit.

“Cazzo, Principessa... Look at you, eh?” He bit the end of his remaining glove on his middle finger, pulling it off in one quick motion and dropping it to the floor so he had both of his hands bare. He stepped towards you then, both hands ghosting over the roundness of your ass. He pulled more at the tights, ripping a bigger hole to expose more of you.

He was taking too long for your liking, lost in the sight of you but you needed him so desperately. You couldn’t deny the ever-present lust brewing once again inside.

“Papa, don’t you want me?” you whined, wiggling your ass in his hands to tempt him further. You heard a dark chuckle behind you.

“Just enjoying the view, Principessa...” you felt his hands retreat, heard a zipper and fabric rustling.

Then you felt him... Slicking himself up between your folds, his head teasing where you needed him. You pushed back a little against him as his head caught on your entrance, barely pushing onto him when he decided he couldn’t fucking wait any longer. He needed to feel you on his cock.

His bare hands gripped your hips and his pelvis pushed against you, his length sinking inside you in a swift motion, knowing you were ready for him. You heard his grunt, imagined him biting his lip behind you as he stilled and struggled to remain composed, muffled whimper following his initial grunt.

Lucifer, you felt incredible. Had he known your pussy could feel this good, he would have claimed you as his long ago.

Slowly, he began to thrust inside you, filling you over and over again. He drove his hips down, knowing now where that damned spot inside you was and driving his cock home with every thrust.

Terzo was a very vocal lover, usually. He liked to talk his conquests through it, loved to praise them, degrade them, anything to make them squeeze around his cock but right now? He could barely form a sentence, wordless grunts and moans all he could manage.

“P-Papa...” you cried, “f-feels... so good.” His hips quickened their pace, the force becoming enough to slap his skin against yours as his pelvis met the flesh of your ass. He watched your cheeks ripple with every thrust, committing the motion to memory in case he never got this chance again.

He knew your first orgasm would do this to you... make you sopping wet for him, tighter, more sensitive. He would have smirked smugly if his face wasn’t permanently carved in a look of pure pleasured anguish. His plan had worked a little too well, his own lust for you too much and rendering him frankly animalistic. With all the teasing, all the flirting leading up to this moment he almost couldn’t believe he was here, and yet, your walls clenching on his shaft and creaming at the base of his cock was the stark reminder that yes, he had won his prize.

As much as he adored watching his cock disappearing into you over and over, he needed to see your face again. He needed you closer.

He slid a hand down the curve of your back. Running his fingers through your hair before wrapping it around his fist and pulling you up, chest leaving the desk. You grabbed his wrist for added stability, the sting of your roots being pulled adding a delicious toxicity to the moment. He pulled you back until your shoulders met his still clothed chest, and your face was exposed when your head lay back against his shoulder.

The look in his eyes should have frightened you, the lust clouding them over and what could easily be mistaken for anger etched into his face. But it wasn’t anger, it was restraint. He was desperately trying not to cum too soon, savouring every second.

“Look at you, eh?” he growled, “you look so fucked out, Principessa...” You couldn’t reply, just whimpered as the free hand on your hip slid up to rest over your neck and squeezed. You gasped at the pressure, not enough to make breathing a struggle but enough to excite you and earn Terzo another squeeze on his cock. He smirked at the feeling, knowing now that you liked that ...

That very same hand reached up a little further, pushing two fingertips to your lips and opening your jaw up for him. He hooked them both past your teeth, holding your jaw open slightly while he mouthed at the corner of your lips, hips so furiously fucking into you your whimpers came out as little screams.

Frankly, Terzo had lost control. The need to cum, to make you cum again was visceral and his brain wasn’t functioning, too much blood flowing to his cock. Lust had taken over the pair of you entirely.

At this pace, his assault on your g-spot was violent but so welcome, and when your orgasm hit you again, your eyes rolled back into your head, body going slack and convulsing in his arms. Tears dripped down your cheeks, eyes tightening shut as you screamed for him around his fingers. You didn’t know you possibly could, but your pussy squirted as he continued his stimulation, pace never slowing, but the noise that came out of him...

It was like a demon had crawled into him from hell itself.

When he felt the wet splash on his thigh, he lost what sliver of composure he had left and roared as he too climaxed, your walls contracting and dragging him back in with every thrust. His seed spilled inside, mixing with the mess you’d both already made and dripping from between you, hitting the floor between his feet.

Whilst his thrusts slowed to keep his and your orgasms prolonged, the strength of them didn’t waver. And with each, he punctuated it with a noise that sounded something between a whimper and a grunt. His arms had tightened around you, grip on your hair pulling at your scalp with each final thrust.

When he finally stilled, he didn’t let go immediately, scared that if he did you may slam onto the desk below you and him to the floor, completely boneless.

You both caught your breath for a moment, and when he did finally loosen his grip it was to slip out of you and pull you back against him when he slumped in his chair behind him. Wordlessly and still panting, he pulled you to sit in his lap curled into his chest. He didn’t care about the mess still seeping from your ruined cunt. He knew you’d need him close, comforting you.

And you certainly did. You nuzzled into his shirt, damp with sweat and now, your tears. Terzo wrapped his arms around you, hand stroking your hair as he whispered how good you’d been for him in your ear.

Given a few minutes, you were coming around again to being yourself. You sat up in his lap, looking back at his face – his makeup was ruined with sweat and smudged particularly around his lips where he’d mouthed at your skin. You couldn’t help the giggle that came out.

He chuckled with you, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his thumb and finger into his eyes as if to clear them. His head rolled back to lay against the high back of his chair, eyes on you.

“Well, I would say that was to the Old One’s tastes, eh?” You nodded in agreement, smiling shyly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, biting your lip.

“For what, Principessa?” Ah, so he was still calling you that. Well, good. You quite liked that. “Orgasm number one, or orgasm number two?”

Smug bastard.

You swatted his chest, hiding your blush. “For helping me. Y’know... with the ritual.”

The smugness of his smirk faded into a softer smile, hand coming to pinch at your chin lightly.

“Prego, dolcezza... (You’re welcome, sweetie...) ” he winked. “Could you reach into that drawer there, for me?” he asked, pointing at a drawer to the left-hand side of his desk. You did as asked, opening it up to find a clipboard and a pen under the clip. When you looked, it was a list.

A list of all seven sins you were to perform.

You handed it to him, shaking your head in a silent laugh. He grinned stupidly and unclipped the pen, biting the cap off before spitting it to the ground and crossing off the first of the seven – Lust.

His eyes flicked up to you once more, and he flipped the board around so you could see.

“One down, six to go...”

Prev: Prologue | Next: Day 2 - Sloth

Tag list:

@call-me-little-sunshine84 @thew0man @zombiesnips-blog @ghuleh-recs @popiaswife @anamelessfool @enchantedbunny @haelithra @aslutforgreyhair @togetherasone @lilylovesdew @copias-sewer-rat @copiaspet622 @deetz-ghuleh @loudwombatmugkid @nimbusghoul @portaltothevoid @adinferix @angellayercake @sodoswitchimage @siouxbauhaus @lydz1977-blog @bitchywitchygardener @sacrificialsake @the-did-i-ask @ghostfangirlsweden @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @copiasprincipessa @gothicwonderlust @ladymer @ghulehunknown @onlyhereforghost @solluna00

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blogitalianissimo · 9 months ago

Note

Scusa il momento sfogo ma mia sorella minore è a Pisa a studiare, SO che è uscita a protestare stasera e porca puttana sto ribollendo oltre a essere preoccupata

Sono fiera che vada a protestare per qualcosa del genere ma prego che non ci siano ancora botte, e che se dovesse succedere decida di scappare invece che star lì a rispondere come temo che farà

Che Paese di merda

Eh ci mancherebbe altro, capisco perfettamente la preoccupazione. Unica cosa che posso dirti è che non credo si azzarderanno a toccare di nuovo i manifestanti, anche perché ho letto che ne sono almeno 5000 in piazza, ed è un numero impressionante.

Mando un abbraccio sia a te che a tua sorella 💙

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a-fools-circus · 1 year ago

Text

Ghostober Day 4: Table Sex

Pairing: Papa III/f!Reader Word Count: 993 Tags/Warnings: p in v sex, dirty talk, creampie, slight religion kink, slight praise kink, semi-public sex

an altar counts as a table, right ?

NSFW under the cut/Minors DNI

The walls of the Ministry’s chapel are some of the most artfully crafted, towering high above the devout souls that find themselves entrenched in prayer. The gorgeous sounds of the choir could be carried through the whole building, the melody of the hymnals reverberating through the arches and around the pillars. The carefully articulated Latin of Satanic prayer lies heavy and thick in the air when dusk falls.

But right now, the only sound echoing against the ornate walls was your lewd cries and wet slapping of skin against skin.

The marble altar is cold under you. The smooth stone offers you no solace as your hands search for something to hold onto. The faint smell of incense is replaced by the intoxicating mix of Terzo’s cologne and the musk of sex.

Terzo had insisted you remove your clothes, of course. He had to worship you “properly” (as he had put it), baring your form for Satan Himself to look upon with reverence. At first, the large and empty hall was cold, the only heat emanating from candles that were almost smoldered. But the fabric of his chasuble practically enveloped your body when he leaned over you, and his touch is more than enough to send waves of pulsing warmth through you.

Your leg is sore, propped up on his shoulder as you lean back on your elbows. His hand holds your elevated thigh tight, the leather of his gloves squeaking under his grip. You can practically feel the bruises forming under his fingertips.

“You look so pretty like this, tesoro,” Terzo’s voice is quiet, whispered hot and heavy in your ear. “Taking Papa’s cock on the altar of worship…such a good little sinner.”

You groan at his words, so vulgar and yet so encouraging. You ignore the ache in your muscles as Terzo drives into you. He moves with an unwavering fierceness as if the only thing he’s devoted to is filling you.

He grunts, a primal reaction to the tight heat that envelops his cock. “Such an eager cunt, too. So tight and wet for Papa. So willing to be used for sin, huh?” His mismatched eyes find yours, darkened with lust. All you can do is nod at him. “Oh, Sorella, if only the Church was watching. To see—fuck—such sinful devotion with their own eyes.”

His hips slam against you, driving his cock deeper in a movement that makes you keel. It’s as if his own words propel him deeper into his lust-driven frenzy. And judging by the way your walls flutter around him, he assumes you like the idea too.

“Oh, do you like that, piccola puttana? You like the thought of the congregation gathering just to see you take my cock?” He taunts, his thrusts more powerful to punctuate his sentences. “So tempting, dolcezza. But no one gets to see the extent of your devotion except me.”

In a swift movement you barely register, Terzo adjusts your body, grabbing your hips and pushing you further onto the altar. His new angle has you seeing stars. You instinctively reach out to grab him—somewhere, anywhere—just to feel more of his touch.

Your arms wrap around him to tug him closer. Your lips immediately find his, kissing him as if tasting him matters more than air. Your sounds spill into his mouth as his own vibrate against your lips. You couldn’t care less if the wet and sloppy movements smear his face paint.

Terzo growls against your mouth before pulling his lips off of yours. His face nuzzles into the crook of your neck to place kisses and nips on your sensitive skin. Your moans turn to whines, muttering small and quiet “fuck”s and “please”s. His thrusts turn into desperately quick and short ruts as both of your bodies tense.

“Let us…cazzo…let us devote this ecstasy to the Dark One, sì?” You barely hear him pant in your ear.

You nod, your hands twisting in the fabric of his chasuble. “Yes, yes, Papa. Please…”

“Show Him how much you love it. How sinful you are. Cum for Papa, mia peccatrice.”

With another powerful and desperate set of thrusts, you can’t hold back any longer. Your body tenses as your orgasm rips through you, wave after wave of ecstasy pulsing through you. Your voice almost fills the room as your passionate cries reverberate off of the stone.

Terzo groans as he thrusts into you with the last of his restraint. He pulls back, needing to watch you as you lose yourself in pleasure.

“Così fottutamente bello…like the finest gift from Hell below.” He mutters, his voice grounding you back to reality, if only for a moment. Your walls clench impossibly tight around his cock, eliciting a deep and guttural sound from his chest. His grip somehow tightens further on your shaking thighs. “You will accept your communion, Sorella. Take it, all of it.”

You pant into the thick, musky air as you watch Terzo reach his own release. His cock kicks inside you, pulsing with every load of his seed he dumps into you. His own body trembles against yours as you both come down from the high.

The world around you seems still and long forgotten. Terzo rests his forehead against yours, his breath hitting your lips in heavy bursts. His bruising grip releases your thigh to cup your face tenderly.

“Lucifer Himself could not resist such a beautiful offering,” he whispers, and you note the touch of reverence in his tone. His thumb lazily strokes your cheek before swiping across your bottom lip. A wicked smile—that same damned smile that had convinced you to stay in the chapel after prayer—finds its way onto his face. “But…perhaps we should test your faith once more, sì? To ensure your loyalty?”

In this moment, you were more faithful than you had ever been before, and you would be damned to Heaven before you would turn down the chance to prove it.

#ghost bc #the band ghost #papa iii #papa emeritus iii #ghostober 2023 #kinktober 2023 #clown's stuff

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captaingrebelguf · 10 months ago

Text

Dark Baptism

Okey dokey! We're here again. Back to fuel the two-person fandom-beast created by the incredible: @copiousloverofcopia. <3

Ren, you deserve this because of doing that thing that you did for me. Thank you, my sweet. xoxoxo

Mrs. Prime Mover Sister Alessandra borrowed from Prime Mover Ren and her series, Tied as One Eternally. Please read. It's life changing. And Ren is the best. Anything you click on written by her will instantly make your day better and leave you beyond flustered.

Oh yeah, some minor NSFW themes below. And a happy Imbolc to those who celly. Onwards!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, so awhile, awhile back……

“Come on, hustle, hustle!” Liz encouraged Alé as they squeezed through groups of excited, chattering siblings.

“Liz, we don’t need to be weird about it! It’s okay if I miss out on this sign up!” Alessandra griped as her wrist was limply strung along by her dearest friend.

After being at the Ministry for almost a year, Alessandra had admitted she was ready to have her previous faith washed away and be born again as a Child of Lucifer. Unfortunately, these types of baptisms were held quite irregularly (as it depended on the interest from the novices). So when Alessandra had overheard Sibling Margeaux mentioning a few other newcomers gaining interest, she knew she had to jump on it. She was ready to commit her life to the Ministry, her new chosen family, and The Dark One.

Elizabet continued to drag Alé along to their destination: Primo coming hot off the pulpit. The oldest of the Emeritus brothers was coming down the steps to greet a few siblings vying for his attention after his sermon today.

Today, Primo had preached about the upcoming Imbolc holiday; he spoke about how the weeks ahead would be addressing the proper ways to prepare, purify, and heal in this life as the first of February drew near. He closed with reminding the masses before him in the pews that the more popular holiday, Lupercalia, followed closely behind and as always the Clergy would be putting on the regular shenanigans.

“Papa!” Liz called out, waving down Primo.

Primo gave the young women a soft smile as he motioned them in, “Sister Elizabet, Sister Alessandra, unblessed be.”

“Beautiful sermon today, Papa,” Liz beamed, Alessandra agreeing beside her. Liz grabbed Alé’s arm and nudged her to Primo, “Papa, we were hoping to catch you in regards to the upcoming unbaptisms; Alé wants in! So how does she sign up? “

“Thanks, mom,” Alé gave an unamused glare to her friend, being perfectly able to speak for herself as needed.

“Is this right, Sister Alessandra? You’re wanting to cast off your former affiliations and join us for good, eh?” Primo gave her a wink as he held out his gloved hand for her. Primo had taken a shine to this girl; he had been complimenting her addition to their sect for months now.

Alé clung to his hand, nodding and looking deep into his mismatched eyes, “It is, Papa. I’ve already dedicated my life to Satan, but this feels right. It’s what I need to do. I’d be honored to have you absolve me of my past indoctrinations-- if there’s still room...��

“Nonsense, Sorella, it would be my onore,” Primo beamed, his old eyes shining, “I will remember to add you to my list and Brother Garrett, who is coordinating this for us, will reach out to you with further instructions next week.”

“Thank you so much, Papa, this truly means everything to me,” Alé expressed her gratitude. Out of the corner of her eye, she finally caught sight of him: Primo’s terror of a brother. Alé could see the younger of Primo’s two attending cardinals sitting in the center pew with his legs obnoxiously stretched out and arms casually draped over the back of the bench.

Terzo was turned from her slightly, coolly chatting up a Brother of Sin he caught the attention of behind him. Terzo’s gloved fingers toyed with one of the gold buttons on his stark, black cassock laying everything he had on this poor soul. Alessandra couldn’t hear their conversation, but the playboy must have said something ridiculous because the blonde man he spoke to was doubled over, waving him off. Terzo looked beyond amused; a large cheeky grin took over his expression as he tucked a stray piece of hair back into its place. Alé couldn’t help but frown watching the disgusting display.

Alessandra quickly averted her eyes back to Primo, “Papa, it feels silly to ask, but can you promise it’ll be you performing my unbaptism? I really feel… the most comfortable with you.”

“My child, I may be getting a little aged, and I may not have many more February dips in my near future, but I can promise you unless our Dark Lord Satanas speaks against it, I shall be there to welcome you back into our arms from their lies.”

“And your cardinals can't do baptisms, is that right?" Alé pressed, looking for a little more solid confirmation. From her peripheral, she could see Cardinal Terzo motioning out the doors as he proceeded to stand and shake out his cassock. He gave a wink to the enamored Brother of Sin as he began to make his leave from the chapel. The Brother followed closely behind him.

Primo placed his hands on Alé’s shoulders, speaking directly to her while regaining her attention, “Dolcezza, sÌ, my fratellinos are able to absolve a being from their previous religions as matured cardinals now. But, nothing would happen to make me miss out on your liberation."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later…

Terzo closed his eyes as he listened to the thrum of his lover’s heart. Omega’s tail still wrapped around Terzo’s thigh, the smell of their sweat still heavy in the air. The large ghoul tipped Terzo’s chin up to gently nip at the Cardinal’s jawline, teasing his claws down Terzo's chest earning a small moan from his lover.

“Amore,” Terzo sighed breathlessly, rubbing his hands through his hair in his post-orgasmic haze, “Don't think this means I want anything to change, but I have to tell you: I probably won't be able to sit on my ass for the rest of the week… “

Omega snorted against Terzo’s hair, “Didn't hear you complaining just a little bit ago."

“No, and you won't! I'm happy, I'm just a little red. And sore. Bruised..." the smaller man lamented, arms and legs still tangled around the ashen-colored, muscled limbs of his partner.

The ghoul continued to breath softly, a subdued purr coming from deep in his chest. He took the hand of his human lover and brushed his calloused fingers over the future Papa’s deep maroon nail polish. The Quintessential ghoul nuzzled his face against Terzo’s palm.

Terzo closed his eyes, biting his lip as he wiggled up to lock lips with Omega. Terzo felt his skin flush as his cock weakly kicked back to life; Omega could smell the instant change as he licked his own lips.

“On your knees, Cardinal," Omega grunted out as he began to rise above the clergyman. He felt his heavy cock start to twitch again as the animalistic urge to breed his partner rose from deep down in his gut.

"Anything for you, caro mio,” Terzo purred, rolling himself onto his stomach and pressing up to position himself on his hands and knees before the large ghoul; his reddened ass presented to the ghoul on full display. Omega smirked at the large hand-sized welts left all over his lover. Terzo loved walking around with hickeys, bruises, marks, anything souvenirs to remind him of his lovers; Omega was always more than happy to oblige and frequently went above and beyond. Terzo dipped down to encourage Omega to grab at his hips, when he caught a fleeting glance of the alarm clock on the side table. Terzo felt a boulder drop to the pit of his stomach as all the color drained from his face.

“Oh fuck! Cazzo, merde, ass, shit!" Terzo exclaimed as he threw himself from the bed. His leg got caught up in the expensive woven sheets as he tumbled face first into the ground, "Shitty, ass, shit! Cazzo!“

“Where in the hell do you think you're going!?" Omega growled, his nose wrinkling back as he snarled at his partner. He crawled toward the smaller man, watching as Terzo agonizingly tore through the heap of clothes they made on the floor as he tried to smooth down his tangled mess of hair.

“Primo was feeling unwell last night and was debating if he should proceed with the ehh… dunking activities today," Terzo quickly attempted to mime as he tried to shake the debris off his wrinkled, black slacks, "Secondo and I agreed to pick up his duties today if he was still sickly. And I was supposed to meet with them roughly 45 minutes ago to discuss who is doing what.”

Omega’s frown melted into a soft smirk, man would absolutely lose his head if it wasn't already attached. Terzo whipped on the pair of dressy, violet socks with a secret message on the bottoms that suggested the reader to go give themselves a happy ending. Terzo threw his cassock over his head and finished redoing the buttons on his chest, promising he'd make this and more up to his beloved ghoul a little later. The two shared one more passionate kiss before Terzo ran out of the bedroom, barely closing the door to Omega’s room, as he began to sprint down the hall.

“Stronzino!" A deep voice shouted from his left..

Terzo stopped dead in his tracks, spinning in his heel to face his older-ish brother, he gave Secondo a grimace and a small guilty wave, “Hi."

“Don't you fucking ‘hi’ me. Do you know how long we foolishly waited thinking you would actually show up?"

Terzo pinched the bridge of his nose and tilted his head down to receive his verbal punishment; audibly sighing as Cardinal Secondo continued to berate him.

"And now we're already late,” Secondo turned and began storming away from his younger brother, "I'll just do everything myself. Primo will deal with you later.”

"Don't be that way,” Terzo begged, trailing closely behind the balding cardinal, grabbing at his brother’s sleeve. Secondo slapped away his younger brother’s hands.

"What were you doing? Or dare I ask who?” he glowered at his brother from the corner of his eye as the two descended down the Ministry's main stairwell.

Terzo gave his brother a guilty grin and shrugged it off, waving his delicate, gloved hand at him, "Non importa.”

“Coglione, I'm becoming awfully tired of your bullshit. You better not still be pulling this when you're acting as my Cardinal, or I swear to Lucifer-"

“Yes, yes, yes," the shorter ministry official agreed, cutting him off, “I know your feelings. I'm aware! You’ve made yourself very clear. Don't get off track. Come sta Primo?"

“Potrebbe essere morto, per quanto ti importa!"

Terzo rolled his eyes as he tried to not let his brother's crotchety mood damper his spirits. The two continued out the doors and down the path to the ministry’s private access to a body of water. Terzo patted his pockets down, lifting up his cassock to access his cognac-brown, cigarette case in his pants. He quickly opened the pouch and nudged at his brother again. Secondo whipped around to glare down at his brother, hovering nearly an entire foot over him.

“Peace offering," Terzo explained, motioning at the new import of Sicilian cigarillos he had pulled a few strings for. He wasn't above getting on his knees to get what he really wanted.

Secondo stopped in his tracks to gently pluck a cigarette. He tossed it between his lips and cocked an eyebrow at his brother as he sarcastically mimicked a lighter. Terzo sighed as he stashed away the leather case and returned with a novelty lighter adorned with breasts.

“In Satanas’ name… " Second began to chide, not sure whether to be proud or disappointed in his brother's taste in torches. Terzo held the open flame up for his brother to light up; he tutted his tongue as he removed the lighter and tossed it back into his pocket.

“Don't judge how I do shit and I won't judge the piss poor life choices you make, cocca di papà," Terzo teased, before Secondo began the descent again.

Secondo stared vacantly ahead, choosing to focus on the calm water instead of the overwhelming urge to slap the shit out of his incompetent younger brother. Secondo aggressively motioned towards the water, before passing the cigarillo to Terzo, “You want to do this shit or do I have to?"

The two stood side by side in front of the small man-made lake (really a pond) made years ago; it was there before Terzo and Secondo had been relocated to this sect. Many rituals had been performed on these shores, the magickal aspects of the water used in many many spells in their youth. Many warm, summer nights had also been spent disrobed with their own respective partners in the lake. Terzo inhaled the smoke before pushing it out of his nostrils, “I don't do cold."

“As future Papa-'' Secondo began lecturing, pointing a finger between Terzo’s eyes.

Terzo uncrossed his eyes as he batted away the finger, “Fine! Sasso, carta, forbici?"

Secondo grabbed the cigarillo back taking a few seconds to inhale, before casually flicking ash at his brother. He tossed the cigarette back between his lips as he held his hands out at the ready to win, “Bene."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brother Garrett hurriedly made his way down to where the two brothers were seated side-by-side on a log near the shore. Terzo and Secondo seemed engrossed in their own discussions as they passed the small remainder of a cigarillo back and forth, murmuring to each other.

“Cardinals?” Garrett called out, alerting them of his presence. Terzo turned over his shoulder and gave the sibling a wave, before turning back to his “older” brother and finishing his train of thought.

"I do think it would be a brilliant idea. You're just jealous you don't have the charisma to pull it off.”

“I'm warning you: neither Imperator or Nihil would find the charm in a kazoo," Secondo waved his brother off, chuckling as he rose to his feet before changing the topic, “Good morning, Brother Garrett.”

“Good morning, Cardinal Secondo, Cardinal Terzo. I was just finishing meeting with Papa to go over the last minute additions to today. It appears we have seven siblings all looking to be unbaptized today. Did we decide who will be performing their ceremonies?” Garrett cheerfully smiled at the two dark-haired men.

“Secondo lost fair and square,” Terzo teased, pleased he wouldn’t have to go into the pond. He still couldn’t help but be nosy, as he held out his hand for the clipboard nestled in Garret’s arm, “Per favore, may I see the list?”

Garrett turned to Secondo, preparing him for how the morning would pan out and going over other small, last minute details. Terzo skimmed the names of siblings, making mental ‘tick’ marks behind the ones who had accompanied him back to his quarters at one point or another. He couldn’t help but feel a tasteless sense of pride, thinking he was the reason all these siblings would want to convert to their side.

Terzo’s breath hitched as he looked at the final name written in Primo’s beautiful calligraphy, before speaking up, “Garrett, is this the final list?”

Garrett quickly nodded to Terzo before focusing back to debriefing Secondo.

Terzo continued to stare at the name before interrupting again, “Secondo, you need to trade me.”

“Sei un rompicoglioni. Stronzo, what are you going on about now? Quit interrupting!” Secondo hissed, squeezing his eyes shut asking himself silently, how they were related.

“I need you to trade me spots. I’ll do the baptisms and you can do confessional later,” Terzo hurriedly explained, excessively flailing his hands around to emphasize his point.

“I thought fair is fair?” Secondo evilly smiled at him, crossing his arms.

Terzo sighed exasperatedly, “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Just switch with me.”

Secondo glared at Terzo, not quite sure what he was up to.

“Secondo, per favore.”

“Qualsiasi,” Secondo gave in, rolling his eyes, confused, but nonetheless thrilled he wouldn’t have to go into the water.

“Oh! Fantastico!” Terzo exclaimed, throwing his arms around his stoic brother, who stiffened at his touch, “Grazie mille! Sono elettrizzato!”

Terzo couldn’t contain his enthusiasm as he planted a loud kiss on his brother’s cheek. Secondo indignantly tossed off his brother before wiping away Terzo’s black lipstick

“I’m going to go change!” Terzo yelled over his shoulder as he sprinted back towards the ministry’s ground.

“He’s going to be late…” Garrett whispered, begging Secondo to do something.

Secondo defeatedly shook his head, watching his brother fade out of view, “There’s no reasoning with that one.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two brothers politely greeted the siblings on Primo’s list as they approached them at the shore. Terzo seemed to grow antsier with each sibling he welcomed, continuously searching. Terzo, the Leo he was, had changed into a stark white vest and slacks with a pale lilac, twill dress shirt underneath. His look was completed with dark Ray Bans tucked behind his ears and bare feet with his manicured toenails painted fuschia.

“What are you looking for?” Secondo grumbled, annoyed with his brother’s lack of attention span.

“No one, I’m just eager to get this over with,” Terzo lied, shutting out his brother’s nagging. He began to check his pockets, removing his sunglasses, lighter, and smokes for safekeeping with Secondo.

Ten minutes into the allotted start time, she appeared to him. She was a vision in her white, lace-trimmed gown and her dark curls bouncing wildly. Her friend was close on her trail as the two women continued at break-neck speed to the meeting spot.

Terzo felt the world slow down and the only soundtrack was his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Sister Alessandra was without a doubt one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen in his life. Her strong, well-vocalized disdain for Terzo only made him want her more.

“Oh, ho, ho! Look who showed up!” Terzo gave her a disgustingly excited smile as he opened his arms for her. He could see her winded expression drop flat off her face as she stared at him in shock.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Alé hissed quietly to Liz as they slowly walked to Secondo’s side, away from Terzo. Alé brushed her fingers through her hair as she began to weave her locks into a braid, so it’d be a little more manageable in the water.

As Brother Garrett began to welcome the group and explain how the morning was going to go, Terzo, not one to shy away from awkward situations (or at least giving an attempt to make them even more uncomfortable for the other party), casually walked to the other side of his brother to stand by Alé. He gave her another warm smile and a wink as he nodded his head to her, “Sister Alessandra.”

“Cardinal.”

“How are yo--”

“Where is Primo?” Alé cut him off, not wanting to waste any energy on this trash.

“He’s fallen sick,” Terzo answered her, trying not to dwell on his own hurt feelings, “He’s starting to feel better, but there’s no way we will allow him to do anything outside; especially in this swamp. So Cardinal Secondo and I were called in as replacements to basically Ghostbust the Christ out of you all.”

Alessandra turned her back to Terzo and dug her nails into Liz’s arm, she lowered her voice so Terzo wouldn’t eavesdrop, “I’m not doing this.”

“Oh come on!” Liz groaned, “Just get it over with! You said something in your gut told you to do this, so what does it matter who does it?!”

“I know, but I already feel off about this and I’m not letting him touch me.”

Terzo leaned over to the two ladies angrily whispering at each other and also added in a hushed tone, “I think you’re making a bigger deal out of this than you think.”

“I do not need your input; also quit spying on me!” Alé hissed back at him, “How do I request Cardinal Secondo to perform my unbaptism?”

“You don’t,” Terzo sneered at her, “We already rock, paper, scissored it. Decision is final, Sorella. And clearly I came out on top.”

He gave her another toothy smile as his eyes took her in from head to toe. Alessandra wanted to puke in her mouth. This man was such a waste of her time. The more she learned about him, the more confident she was in her analysis: he was a slut and a moron.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” Alé glared at him, crossing her arms, and attempting to shut him out.

Terzo chuckled, clasping his hands behind his back, “Denial is not just a river in--”

“--and Cardinal Terzo, with that, we’re ready when you are,” Brother Garrett interrupted the future Papa with an oblivious smile.

Terzo masked his annoyance and gave Alessandra another wink, “We shall continue this. See you in a minute, dolce.”

Alé felt her stomach churn as she watched the walking headache give the rest of the group a big smile as he took the hand of the first sibling and escorted them out into the chilly water.

She should have run.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All the other six siblings that had chosen to be religiously freed today had beautiful, private unbaptisms with the future Papa. One-by-one, Terzo had taken them out into the frigid pond and released them from their prior torment in such an intimate ceremony. No one could hear his words from the shores; odd for the usually boisterous man.

From watching his face, you could tell he was taking this very seriously. Alessandra had thought a few times she saw him tear up as the sibling thanked him profusely after he had drenched them. Maybe she had judged him too harshly at their first encounter. He may have a few general character flaws, but seeing him like this had Alé reconsidering a lot. Plus he did look even more handsome in white. The classic dark eye makeup around his eyes, his upper lip crispy painted black, framed by his shaggy locks, Alé’s eyes darted to the floor as she noticed Terzo watching her and giving her a mischievous smile.

“Pronta, Sorella?” Cardinal Terzo held out his hand for her, still grinning. His crisp white slacks were beyond waterlogged and his purple boxers could be seen from miles away. He might as well not even be wearing pants. Alé’s eyes dropped to his chest; a delicate golden Grucifix peered out from his unbuttoned cotton shirt. She felt her breath hitch as she finally took in his chest hair; her eyes began to wander again along his exposed arms, swearing she could see tattoo ink coming from under the cuffs of his shirt. As outgoing as Terzo was, he did keep his own life rather private. Other than the ongoing rumors of how well-endowed he was and his unmatchable stamina, Alé realized she hadn’t heard much else about this mysterious, cocky bastard. As far as she was concerned, his only hobbies were cream pies and sucking dick in the confession booths.

Alé frowned and hesitated before going against her gut and taking the man’s hand. He was surprisingly warm, despite his damp hand. She almost considered moving closer to steal more of his body heat. Terzo gave her a gentle, comforting squeeze as they began to head deeper into the water.

“It’s actually quite cold… I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long,” Alé spoke softly, making nervous, but polite conversation with the religious figure head.

“Eh. Cold yes; only thing I have to gripe about right now is the fantastic shrinkage I’m experiencing right now. Just don’t look down too long for it, I promise I do have a lot more going on than what you can see,” Terzo rambled on, trying not to chuckle at the horrified look on Alé’s face.

“You’re a pig,” Alé gasped, halting in her steps, stopping Terzo with her. She shook her hand to free herself from his touch, as if he were a disease, “I don't think I want to do this anymore."

“Oh, come now,” Terzo chided, trying to gently encourage her onwards, “I was merely teasing, Sorella! I’ll tone it down.”

“I cannot believe that out of all the Ministry officials who could be doing this, I’m stuck here with you!” Alessandra glared at him, starting to lose her patience. The freezing water was doing no favors.

“Stuck with me?!” Terzo feigned horror, “You should be so lucky, Sorella!”

“Can we just get this over with?” Alé crossed her arms. She shouldn’t have let Liz talk her into doing this with the younger cardinal. She should have waited for Primo. She should have ran screaming as soon as she saw Terzo’s devilish smirk, “I thought this day was going to be a lot more meaningful, but this is clearly just a joke to you. I bet you’re going to dazzle them as Papa.”

“Huh.. I apologize, I took this maybe too far; we can fix this,” Terzo spoke a little more seriously than what Alessandra was expecting from him, “Pronta?”

“Yes, Cardinal,” Alé affirmatively nodded her head, glad he seemed to have moved onto business, still weary he might pull something again. She couldn't let her guard down around him.

Terzo gently cleared his throat before speaking so only the two of them could hear, “Welcome, Sister Alessandra. Today, you and I gather to embark on a journey of healing from the wounds of a religious trauma. The undoing of a dedication to a religion you did not consent to. A reversal of spiritual decisions you made without clarity, reclaiming your personal power and finding solace within. Are you ready to proceed? “Yes,” Alé whispered in a hushed tone, finding herself unable to look away from his gaze; she let her arms uncross and fall to her sides.

“This act represents the release of the harmful teachings and reclamation of your own truth. Release the pain and wounds caused by religious trauma. Reclaim your power and define your own path. You are no longer bound by the chains of religious trauma. Embrace your strength, reliance, and the beauty of your unique journey,” Terzo prayed over her.

The butterflies in Alessandra’s stomach were out of control. Her heart was racing. She wanted to get closer to him. She could hear each purposeful breath he took between sentences. She could see his pupils dilate wide as he made unwavering eye contact with her; unable to look away from his Satan-given eye. She could smell his cologne overwhelming her senses. She felt her heart skip a few beats as she reached out for the dark clergyman and he firmly grasped her hand in return. With the warmth and energy that surged between them as they entwined their fingers, she could have sworn there were electrical currents in the tiny pond.

“Sister Alessandra, take a moment to reflect on your newfound freedom and the inner strength that resides within you. Today, we have taken a significant step towards healing from your religious trauma. As you move forward, remember,” Terzo paused for a second, finding himself unable to look anywhere but into her hazel eyes. He tried to shake himself from his trance as he continued, softening his tone, taking time to enunciate his words, “You are deserving of love, acceptance, and the freedom to shape your own path. May this ritual serve as a reminder of your own resilience and the power of reclaiming your own truth!”

Alessandra looked deeply into his eyes as they shared a soft smile. It was only them in the world at that moment. A shepherd and his newly found lamb. Alé leaned into Terzo as he respectfully wrapped his arm around her waist, she felt at ease letting him handle her so intimately.

“All bonds of servitude have been broken. Power and agency have been restored. Thyself is thy master. Hail Satan!” Terzo grinned as he felt Alé’s suddenly shoulders sag and a heavy, invisible burden seemed to remove itself from her. She stared at him wordlessly, seemingly hypnotized. Terzo cleared his throat, “You ready for a dip, sis?”

“No funny business,” Alessandra whispered, eyes pleading to him. She couldn’t help but look at his soft lips, failing to use every ounce of strength inside her to avoid thinking about kissing him.

“None,” Terzo crossed his heart, “Unless you have also felt the encouragement from The Dark One here with us and are also so inclined for another kiss…”

Alessandra stiffened against his touch, shaking herself out of this trance. What the actual hell was wrong with this man? And how was he also feeling this!? Did this lech hex her!? Alessandra shoved his arm off from around her waist as she stabbed a threatening finger into his chest, “I promise, I will drown you here in front of your family and followers. Don’t tempt me. Keep your hands off me.”

“You keep saying that, but how am I supposed to complete your upbaptism if I can’t touch you?” Terzo grinned cheekily, cocking his weight to one hip, as he laughed at her.

Alé huffed and rubbed her face in annoyance, “You are so unbelievably annoying.”

“Signora, I am a man of the cloth, I have a little more restraint than you seem to give me credit for!”

“Oh because the bullshit you pulled at Yule was you showing restraint?!” she scoffed, hesitant to go back to the dark-haired man.

Ave Satanas. What a spitfire, he thought to himself. Terzo itched at his chin before offering Alé his hand again, losing patience, freezing to the bone, and wishing to just get this over with. Alessandra took his hand and walked into his embrace again as she let him begin to gently lower her backwards into the water. One arm still around her waist and the other firmly clasped to hers, with her hands clinging to him for dear life.

Terzo paused as he looked down at the beautiful woman in front of him. Her full lips and dark, feathered eyelashes. Her gorgeous raven hair tied off to the side in an extravagant braid as the February sun bounced off the gold flecks in her eyes. He should have stopped there, but his eyes couldn’t stop wandering as he craned to peer through the white cotton gown at her ample bosom.

Alessandra had been transfixed in his green and white gaze; she found herself lost, yet so comforted. Something about him seemed to call to her. As she blinked, she noticed he had broken eye contact and was obviously staring at her breasts.

“So tell me, Cardinal,” Alé interrupted his x-ray advances before continuing her wicked thought, “That night I rejected you… did you have to go home empty handed? Or did Omega take pity on you as he always does and take you to bed like the whore you are?”

Terzo’s eyes widened, not believing what he just heard. I think I might be in love with this woman. He had been halfway to dipping her in the water, the ends of her hair barely submerged, when he quickly released his grasp on her. Alessandra crashed back into the icy water with a shriek. She gasped for air as she tried to find her balance, stumbling again over a sunken log and falling into the water again.

Terzo’s mind buzzed with white static as couldn’t help but feel slightly childish for what he had done. He pushed air out of his mouth before working up the courage to hold out his hand to her, “Sorella, I’m so sorry. My hands slipped!”

Alé’s assessment was confirmed: he was a slut, a moron, and a liar. She hesitated before taking his hand, second guessing her actions. Terzo gave her one quick apologetic smile before she yanked his arm past her, causing Terzo to lose his balance and also fall face-first into the lake.

Terzo pulled his head up from under the water, sputtering and shaking his hair like a dog. He blew a string of snot out of his nose before looking back at the fiery woman, he absentmindedly checked his ear piercings and fixed the chained Grucifix that hung from his left lobe. He sighed and found himself drawn to the damp, furious goddess next to him.

“Alright. Fair is fair, sister. I apologize for accidentally dropping you,” Terzo managed to pull himself back up, laughing as he held out his palms to her in an effort for peace, “No funny business. Serio.”

“I cannot believe this," Alé murmured to herself as she saw Cardinal Secondo angrily waving them down from the shore with a furious expression on his face.

“Cardinal!" Secondo shouted in a very stormy tone, “Have you lost your mind!?"

Terzo began to scoff before being cut off by his brother again.

“Quit flirting with each other. It's freezing, everyone else is trying to go inside, you've prolonged this enough," Secondo seethed.

“We are not flirting!” Terzo and Alé balked, loudly talking over each other to try and explain their actions.

“I don't care! Terzo, help the sister up and finish your job."

Terzo noisily sighed as he turned to Alessandra, “At least we knocked the Jesus out of you, eh, Sorella? “

He bowed forward to take her hand to help her out of the lake. Alé slapped his outstretched palm away, “I am perfectly capable of managing myself. Now did you successfully unbaptize me or are you still just fucking around?”

As Terzo opened his mouth armed with a sarcastic comment, his eyes drifted to her heaving chest as she lifted herself back upright from the water. Her large breasts were drenched, white gown clinging to them leaving very little to the imagination. Terzo felt his jaw slacken a little wider.

Cazzo. I think I am in love, echoing in his brain. He suddenly became hyper aware of his erection pressing through his wet bottoms. He slowly began to wade backwards into deeper water, waving Alessandra towards the shore, “Eh, go on ahead, Sister. We’re all good here.”

Alessandra’s jaw dropped, did he have a boner!? This couldn’t have gone any worse. Her gown dragged against her in the water as she tried to jog back onto land. Liz had a towel opened wide and quickly embraced Alé in a bear hug.

“I need a drink,” Alé uttered from inside the towel, begging to forget this entire experience.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shortly after, the crowd had begun to disperse leaving the Cardinals by themselves. Secondo stared wordlessly at his younger brother as Terzo trudged up from the lake, readjusting his cock in his trousers. His eye paint was smeared down his cheeks and soaked from head to toe, but he sported the biggest shit eating grin on his messy face.

“Primo is going to rip you apart for this one, fratellino,” Secondo shook his head, arms still crossed over his chest, “Is that why you chose to punish her? Because Primo has taken to her and she wants absolutely nothing to do with you? Are you are feeling jealous?”

Terzo shrugged noncommittally, still smiling as he threw a towel over his head, “I did what I had to.”

“I hope it was worth it.”

Terzo nodded, drying off his face, “Absolutamente. Now, if you don’t mind, I left a rather large ghoul alone in a bed and I think it’s high time I go see to him.”

“I’m keeping these as emotional reimbursement for you making me hear that,” Secondo crossly replied, wagging the case of cigars and busty lighter at him.

Terzo chuckled as he walked past his brother, “Fair is fair, fratello.”

Translations:

Onore -- Honor

Non importa -- It does not matter.

Come sta Primo? -- How is Primo?

Potrebbe essere morto, per quanto ti importa! -- He could be dead for all you care!

Cocca di papà -- Apple of Father's eye, Daddy’s girl

Sasso, carta, forbici? -- Rock, paper, scissors?

Sei un rompicoglioni -- You're a pain in the ass

Qualsiasi -- Whatever

Grazie mille! Sono elettrizzato! -- Thank you so much! I’m delighted/thrilled!

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