#terzo just. puts me in a STATE. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

da-rulah · 7 months ago

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In Cold Blood - Terzo x f!reader

Summary: Solitude had always appealed. Perhaps that’s why you took on this project… The thought of transforming a dilapidated old Victorian farmhouse into a sanctuary of your own, to live in peace and the romanticisms of a gothic home you fell in love with.

After the structural integrity of the house is replenished, you fill your days with DIY and decorating, bringing to life a house that had been frozen in time and left to rot for decades. You could enjoy the solitude of the land already, a few miles outside of a town plagued by disappearances and a fear of the dark. But you couldn’t escape the news of more missing people, nor the strange occurrences happening around your new home.

Were you imagining things? Or was there indeed a shadow haunting your sanctuary?

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI Word Count: 19.6k (i'm back bitchesssss)

Warnings: Dark fiction, horror fic, mentions of murder, coercion, manipulation, obsession, masturbation (f), voyeurism, manhandling, threat and mild violence, dubious consent (later turns to verbal consent), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, blood, blood drinking, unprotected sex

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WARNING: This is a work of DARK FICTION. It is a horror fic, and contains mentions of violence as well as elements of dubious consent and manipulation. Please do not read if this is going to affect you negatively. You have been warned, and I take no responsibility if you choose to ignore the warnings and triggers attached.

a/n: well hello there. It's been a while, hm? Radio silence and then BOOM, a 20k word fic outta nowhere? Well, this was written for the wonderful @angellayercake's birthday, and she's been so kind as to give her permission for me to share it. I promise, more new content coming soon, and I'll be working on an update for The Mayor's Daughter ASAP! Happy reading, creeps...

“What’s the catch?”

The real estate agent blinked at you in confusion, as if you’d just asked her to recite the square route of pi to the 30th decimal.

“The… the catch?” she asked, “I don’t understand.”

“Well, it’s just so cheap, I have to wonder which closet the skeletons are hiding in…” you joked, knowing full well the skeletons were actually in the backyard under the headstones that sat growing moss and ivy for the last six decades at least.

“Ma’am… I’ve been very upfront about the state of the house. It needs extensive repairs and renovation, it has a graveyard out back, it’s way out in the sticks and the landscaping is overrun… What more could be wrong with it?” She rang out her hands nervously, chewing on her cherry red lips as you scrutinised her body language. You’re sure there was something she wasn’t telling you, but this was a perfect opportunity for you…

Coming off the back of a decent chunk of inheritance left by a relative you’d long-since forgotten, you needed a project. You’d always wanted to renovate a beautifully gothic home from the 19th century, and when you saw the listing for exactly that on the edge of a small town? Ideal. Perfect. Exactly what you wanted. The thought of being a little out in the country, surrounded by land and away from the bustle of the city you grew up in was all too appealing.

“It has a charm to it, don’t you think?” you smiled to yourself, fiddling with the dusty net curtains still hanging in the living room’s huge bay window.

“Uh… sure, yeah,” the agent agreed with reluctance, still so confused as to why you would be at all interested in this ruin that she couldn’t even show you all of due to the structural integrity of the floorboards.

“I’d like to put in an offer,” you told her, turning back to face her with a smile on your face.

“You… really? Oh, my god! Okay, great! Well, I’ll get the paperwork…” she sprung into action, suddenly full of an energy that could only have been triggered by the whiff of her future commission.

It would take some work, sure, but this place had the potential to be the perfect project and future home for you…

It took six months, but the structural integrity of the house had been stabilised by a team of builders you’d hired to take care of the place while you got your affairs in order and ready to move halfway across the country. You weren’t taking much; a lot of the furniture left in the abandoned house was part of the project and with a little restoration would be absolutely beautiful. You were ready for the work, ready to create a home that you could be so proud of and had your stamp on it.

Moving into the house was quicker than you thought it would be, with most of your furniture sold and donated. For now, you had to live out of suitcases until you had a bedroom and closet space that was clean enough to hang your things in.

At the very least, you’d cleaned and stripped the four-poster bed that still lay in the master suite, checking the integrity of the bed itself and noting how… pristine it seemed compared to a lot of the other furniture left behind. But this was made of expensive, dark mahogany wood – it was built to last, and so with a polish, a new mattress and sheets? You had a gorgeous bed to sleep in each night, taking a little bit of pressure off when you’d spent an entire day exhausting yourself over more renovations.

One of your first jobs had been landscaping in the graveyard. You’d felt pulled to the graves, wanting to give whoever was buried on your property a much more respectful resting place, rather than allowing them to be swamped by ivy and moss.

It seemed to be a family plot, probably the last family to have owned the home. Every stone had the same surname, dating back to the first of the deaths in 1904. What struck you as odd, however, was the nature of the stones themselves…

For the time period, you might have expected angels, cherubs, perhaps a cross or two. But whilst these stones were ornate and beautiful, they were not steeped in biblical references at all. Instead, the eldest stone had a decaying gargoyle sat atop it… Another, a ram’s head at the base. One had a stone skeleton laying above where the body would have been buried, carved into a slab of concrete as if it was protruding from the grave itself. You’d never seen graves like this before, symbols and carvings you couldn’t identify but had you on edge the minute you looked at them. But one of those symbols, you certainly recognised.

A pentagram.

Now, as a purveyor of the dark and mysterious, you hadn’t minded the thought of a graveyard in your garden. For goodness sake, you loved the gothic aesthetic, the dark and macabre had always called out to you. But to find these graves had a theme to them, a darker, occult theme… It cast a deeper shadow over the home you’d purchased.

Who were this family? Were they part of an occult? You were itching to understand the history, to uncover more about the lost family that let their home fall to ruin and their graves be overrun by nature.

But it had to wait, the renovations taking over to make your house a far more liveable abode. With the graves at least clear from nature’s extremities, you could come back to them another time to give them a proper clean, to uncover the names in full and potentially use the information to gather more with a trip to the local library or a google search.

For now, you had to get to cleaning room by room so you could begin stripping and re-decorating where it needed it most.

“…The Sheriff’s office have released a statement today to calm locals calling for more action in the string of disappearances throughout town. Last Monday saw the latest in the line of disappearances, 29 year old store clerk, Andrew Walton, taking the total up to 12 missing in the last nine months. Mr Walton was last seen on CCTV heading into the alley of the 7/11 where he worked…”

The radio news bulletin caught your attention as you were working in the master bedroom, stripping the already peeling wallpaper from the panelled walls atop a stepladder. You’d only moved in three weeks ago, and yet, the little radio you always put on to work to kept churning out the same story consistently – the string of disappearances in town that seemed to be getting more and more frequent.

It would seem it was the town with skeletons in the closet, not your precious new home. The estate agent failed to mention that one…

When you first heard about it, you’d made sure the house was secure, with locks on the windows, every entrance bolted and sturdy. Being so far outside of town, you weren’t particularly worried since you rarely ventured from your home, particularly not at night when most of these disappearances seemed to have taken place. But it didn’t hurt to be safe...

Still, the thought that there may be someone out there snatching people for God only knows what purpose was a little unsettling. You could only hope the sheriff would do his job and catch whoever was behind the crimes soon – but it had already been nine months… All you could do was lay low, stay as far away from the potential risks of heading into town alone in the dark.

As the lunchtime bulletin ended, the radio began to play one of the top 40 songs you’d heard at least three times already today. Whilst it was repetitive, you’d learned the words, and found yourself singing along as you scraped at patches of wallpaper residue with your little scraping tool. You lost yourself to easily in the renovation tasks, the monotony allowing for your brain to whisk you away to distant worlds, like shooting your own music videos to the songs as you sang along.

Drifting so far off into your own thoughts is probably the reason you hadn’t realised the radio had actually cut out completely, and it was just you singing and the sound of the metal scraper to fill the silence… The batteries had died.

“Ah, shit…” you mumbled to yourself, stepping off the ladder and reaching for the radio you’d placed on the window sill. Upon closer inspection, you made the definite conclusion that it was in fact the batteries, and sighed in annoyance. Of all the things you didn’t think you’d need for a while at least, you would now have to rummage around in the unemptied moving boxes that were still stockpiled in the dining room, filled with ‘random crap’ from your ‘random crap’ drawers – the drawers every home has… You just hadn’t renovated enough of the kitchen to have a ‘random crap’ drawer yet.

Digging through the boxes, you pulled a tape measure, a pack of four highlighters with two missing, six bank statements dated four years ago and a set of tiny little wrenches from the collection, until finally, you found a pack of unopened batteries at the bottom of the box.

You fumbled with them, rushing to get them out and replace the dead ones in the radio so you could get your music back and get back to work. Just as you pushed the second battery in, the radio roared to life again, startling you with a sudden gasp. Your heart raced in your chest as you chuckled at yourself, laughing at how stupid you’d been to have forgotten to turn it off before you pushed the new batteries in.

But a sudden and much more frightening crash from beneath you had you jumping again within seconds, your grip on the radio faltering as it flew to the ground, the new batteries flying out at the impact and drenching the room in silence again.

Your head flew immediately to the old door to your left, the one that led beneath the house to the basement…

You don’t know how long you stared at it, your heart rate never calming down as your mind raced with scenarios. An animal? Old house falling apart? Ghost? Psycho killer from town? You had no idea what to think.

But you lived alone. No noise should be coming from down in the damn basement.

You stared for so long, you began to question if you’d heard anything at all. Perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you. But with a mental kick up the arse and a quick shake of the head to rid yourself of the fear, you marched over to the door to investigate like every stupid final girl in every horror movie you’d ever seen.

When you pulled on the string light, it buzzed and flickered before settling on a barely-there orange glow. Thankfully, it didn’t matter so much, the small windows in the house’s foundations letting in just enough light to deem the room visible. You could smell the must as you stepped down the wooden stairs, creaking under your feet as if some obnoxious special effects guy was dubbing the scene.

The movers had moved some of the restorable furniture you’d asked them to keep down here, stacking it in a far corner for you to come back to when you’d sorted the main structure and décor of the house. They were caked in a thick layer of dust, fingerprints from the movers clearly visible.

But nothing looked like it had fallen, there wasn’t anything broken or toppled over on the floor at all. The bang you’d heard had no source, that you could see. Even the cellar doors that led to the yard out back were still chained and bolted shut – you couldn’t blame it on a gust of wind, and upon first inspection, there was no sign of an animal somehow making its way inside either.

But to be sure, you walked through the clear space in the centre of the basement and over to the furniture pile of display cabinets, side tables, some chairs and a wardrobe you’d had moved from the master bedroom. It was one of your favourite pieces, that wardrobe. You planned to only clean it up and revarnish it, matching the ornate wood of the bed that had been kept pristine and you now used as your own. Even the mirrors on the door – oval shaped with dark ivy carved into the edges – were in fantastic condition. No scratches, just caked in a layer of dust like the rest.

A closer look proved there were no animals in the basement, no rodents or critters to try and ferry back outside. But what you did notice were the fingerprints on the brass handles of the wardrobe. Perhaps the movers had peaked inside – you hadn’t when you viewed the place. Maybe there were some old clothes still left behind from another decade?

Curiosity got the best of you, and you opened the door with a shriek of its hinges to find… nothing. The wardrobe was empty save for a few wire hangers that jingled with the opening of the door, and another layer of dust, albeit thinner, on the low shelf inside. But the dust was disturbed…

In the centre, there was a rectangle in the dust, as if it had been carefully wiped clean with absolute precision… It was about the size of a shoe box, but the dark grain of the wood stood out around the greyed and dulled wood surrounding it. Something had been in there for years, and had been removed…

Instantly, you blamed the movers. They’d gone nosing around and taken something they thought was valuable? Oh hell no. It got your back up immediately… You’d trusted these people, and they’d stolen from you? They’d be getting a phone call later.

Now pissed, you shut the door to the wardrobe a little harder than perhaps you should, the bang that sounded ricocheting off the stone walls of the basement.

That sounded like what you’d heard from upstairs.

You brushed it off, thinking nothing of it and instead looking up into the oval mirror of the door to check you’d left no damage to it.

But then you saw him. A man, in the dusty reflection standing in the far corner, the darkest spot of the basement. You could only see an outline, a silhouette. But one of his eyes seemed to gleam brighter than the other, the light perhaps hitting it just right. He was glaring at you, watching you intently in the dull reflection…

You shrieked, spinning in your place and slamming your back into the wardrobe behind you. Your chest heaved in panic, heart racing and breaths coming short and fast while your eyes searched the dimly lit corner and found nothing.

There was no man stood in the corner, nothing at all in fact. You were completely alone, your mind playing havoc on you in your heightened state of anxiety and anger. Even now, your heart was still hammering away, your lungs just beginning to regulate your breathing.

You straightened yourself up and wiped at your clothes that collected dust from the wardrobe when you’d slammed into it.

“Dumbass,” you mumbled to yourself, heading back upstairs quickly and slamming the basement door. You tried your best to shake off the anxiety, putting your batteries back into your radio and rushing back to the master bedroom to continue with the wallpaper scraping in the hopes it might put your mind back at ease. But for the rest of the day, you felt an anxiety you couldn’t shift, as if there truly was a man in the corner of every room you entered, glaring at you from the shadows.

It took a few days to get all the paper and residue off the walls in the master bedroom, careful not to mess with the panelling you wanted to sand down and keep as part of the décor. But for now, you could finally get onto stripping the paper in one of the other bedrooms, hoping to strip all of the paper from the upstairs in one go before getting around to sanding and replacing any panelling so you wouldn’t be spreading the dust into rooms you’d already finished and cleaned. There was method in your madness – strip everything down, sand, then clean.

The next biggest room upstairs had no furniture in it and was in the worst state, having been the room with the most extensive damage to the flooring and structural integrity. Builders had to replace the entire floor, and so had removed everything to do so. Apparently a leak in the roof – now fixed, of course – had caused irreparable water damage to the far corner, where they’d also removed the mouldy panelling and cleaned the remaining black mould properly and safely.

But now the rest of the room needed its paper stripped, so that’s where you found yourself. Your little radio blared the same station as always as you scraped away at the paper, making your way along the walls. It came off easier than the master bedroom, the damp of the room helping to already ease the adhesive from the plaster beneath.

As you moved to a section of the wall near the window, placing the stepladder on the floorboard, you heard one rattle beneath it. Having had the entire floor replaced, you’d assumed that every floorboard would be secured down. Perhaps the builders had missed one, but a few nails and you could fix that. So you moved the stepladder out of the way and crouched to inspect the plank that wobbled.

It had the holes in it where the nails should have been, and yet, there were no nails to hold it down… It was as if it had been secured and then pulled up again, except you couldn’t figure out why.

Curiosity got the best of you, and you pushed on one end of it to lift it from the structured beams beneath it. It opened up to a crawl space filled with fresh insulation and piping beneath the room. But when you pulled out your phone to flick on the flashlight, you noticed a rather out of place looking jewellery box had been hidden just to one side of the loose floorboard.

Instinct overruled you and you reached for it, pulling it from under the floorboard and wiping the dust from the top of it. It was a beautiful jewellery box, made of dark wood with an intricate baroque pattern carved into it and filled with some kind of gold resin. It had no lock on it, only a hook to keep its lid closed.

It made no sense to you… Why would this be under the floorboards when the floor was so new? Where had it come from? Should you open it?

And then your brain connected the dots. This box was the same shape, and a similar size to the disturbed dust inside the wardrobe in the basement. This had come from the wardrobe…

Logically, you concocted a story that maybe one of the builders had found it and wanted to hide it, come back for it later but forgot. But if they knew it was of value, surely they wouldn’t have forgotten it? And that patch in the wardrobe seemed too fresh, too pristine… Still, you had no other logical answer. You refused to believe it had magically found its way up from the basement and under the floorboards by itself – or even more horrifyingly, at the hands of someone else.

But you had to open it, right? You had to see what was inside, to see why someone would want to hide such a pretty little box at all. So you flicked the hook open, and slowly opened up the jewellery box…

You’d have to say you were disappointed. There were things in here, but nothing that screamed value at you, more like cheap and random items. There were some cuff links that you thought may have been silver, but were only sterling silver; a costume jewellery bracelet made of plastic pearls; a lipstick, worn down to within an inch of its life in a deep red shade; various little knick-knacks that together made absolutely no sense at all. The only thing that stood out to you as remotely unusual, was a watch.

This watch looked ordinary, something you’d pick up for cheap. It was broken, the glass cracked and the time clearly not moving on from 11:06 on the day it broke. It wasn’t branded, the clock face not diamond-incrusted or made of any real precious materials. But just under where the hands connected in the centre was a tiny little rotating set of numbers for a date, reading as 19/03/24 – just over a week ago. The watch had stopped working just over a week ago.

You couldn’t entertain this idea any longer. You stuffed the watch back into the box, slamming the lid closed and putting it back under the floorboards in the hope it might poof itself out of existence. You had to be imagining things, this wasn’t real. First, hearing noises down in the basement. Then, seeing the reflection of a man in the wardrobe mirror, only for him to disappear when you turned around. Now, finding a box of trinkets in the floorboards with items that were completely out of place for the time period of the old house.

You were being ridiculous, making up things that didn’t exist and had no significance at all. This must have been left by a builder, the battery being the reason it stopped, not the crack in the glass. There was just no way. No one had been by the house since you moved in besides the postman, and even he had quickly stuffed the mail into the mailbox at the end of your drive and run off quickly every time you caught him.

A creak in the floorboards in the hallway snapped you from your racing conspiracies, igniting your fight or flight response much like the noise in the basement the other day. This time you didn’t freeze, you stood up quickly and ran to the doorway to see if you could catch whatever was making the noise.

There he was again.

The same silhouette, a man stood in the hallway, backlit from the large window behind him and the sun streaming in through it. You couldn’t see his face properly, left in shadow but you could see those same eyes, glaring at you, watching to see if you would make a move…

Anger flared inside you, thinking you had an intruder in your home. You weren’t one to back down from a fight or go quietly. If this man was skulking around your house in broad fucking daylight, you were going to confront him.

“HEY! Who the fuck are you?!” you yelled from the doorway, “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

The silhouette said nothing, instead stepping to the right through the door to your master bedroom. Without a second thought you ran towards the open doorway, grabbing the scraper from the floor where you’d set it down earlier as some kind of precautionary weapon.

“I said, get out of my-“ you stopped, frozen in fear. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, confusion replacing the rage inside you.

Nothing.

There was nobody in here. And you made damn sure to check… No one behind the door, no one in the en-suite, no one under the bed… No one.

You were losing your mind. You had to be. Perhaps you had spent too long alone in this old house, maybe you needed to socialise, head into town and meet some real people instead of chasing shadows. This wasn’t healthy, all this obsessive renovation work. This was your brain telling you you needed a break, right? It had to be that, because you could come up with no sound, logical explanation as to why you were seeing a shadow man roaming around your house other than madness. None of this was really happening, this was simply a descent into insanity caused by too much isolation.

At least, that’s what you told yourself to quiet the pounding heartbeat in your ears as the fear crept its way inside, burrowing deeper with every strange happening you seemed to experience.

A day off was all you’d needed, time out of the house to escape the need to be working, to essentially touch some grass and speak to another actual human being besides the shadow you’d conjured in your head. You’d gone into town, done some shopping, sat in a local coffee shop… You’d met a lovely older woman in there – Amelie, a widow and life-long resident – who’d welcomed you to town, so excited to have a fresh and pretty face to say hello to.

Although, she had warned you to head home before the sun set… That you should never walk alone in the evenings, and should lock your doors and windows at night.

“He likes the younger ones,” she’d told you. “I’m no good, you see… He likes them young.”

That had chilled you to the bone… Perhaps the mad ramblings of a woman hitting senility, but already on edge after the last few days at home, it seemed to strike a nerve. But nothing could have prepared you for the look on her face when she’d asked her where in town you had moved into, and you divulged it was the old farmhouse on the outskirts.

Her cheeks had sagged, smile dropping instantly. She shifted in the chair she’d taken at your table, straightening out the skirt of her dress over her knees and avoiding eye contact. And then she clutched her necklace in her fist – a gold crucifix – as she reached to take yours in her other hand.

“You must protect yourself, yes? That house… Something is there. You must be careful,” she told you, her voice as stern as she could make it to hide the tremble of fear.

“I-I’m okay, really… It just looks old, it’s overgrown and falling apart but I’m working on-“

“No!” she yelled, turning the heads of other patrons in the coffee shop. Her grip on your hand squeezed tighter, her nails digging into your hand painfully. “You should leave, before it’s too late. Such a pretty young thing, you shouldn’t be there…”

You pried her bony, arthritic fingers from around your hand and gently held hers in both of yours.

“I’m okay, Amelie. Please, don’t worry…” you comforted her, but she seemed dissatisfied, her eyes wide as she conceded.

That entire interaction had sat with you for the rest of the day as you’d wandered through the local farmer’s market, picking up fresh vegetables to turn into a casserole for one tonight. It shouldn’t have unnerved you the way it did, such an elderly woman was clearly suffering the effects of an ageing mind and yet, with the experiences of the last few days? Her warning unnerved you.

You headed home long before sunset, and locked the doors and windows like she’d told you to. Did it make you feel any better? Absolutely not… But as you pottered around in the kitchen making the casserole you’d planned, slowly the anxiety started to ease, helped mostly by the music on your little radio.

You ate in peace, scrolling through your phone while you tapped your foot on the tiled floor of the kitchen. You didn’t mind these lonely evenings so much, having grown tired of the bustling city long ago. These days, the quiet of your own company was quite welcome, easily sinking into your own little world.

Even as you stood at the sink, scrubbing at the dishes, you were in your own world, humming along to another overplayed song you’d heard time and time again. You’d find yourself staring out the window in front of you at the sunset, the sky painted pinks and oranges and casting a tranquil glow over the little graveyard out back. Dusk was quickly approaching, the night drawing in as you cleaned.

Just as you placed your plate on the drying rack beside you, you looked out again at the graves, now like silhouettes as the sky turned to a deeper shade of bluey purple. But your heart dropped, every hair on your body standing on end.

The shadow figure. The same shadow figure… Stood out by the graves, looking down at them with its back to you. He seemed to be wearing the same thing as last time you spotted him; slacks, a black coat made of heavy wool that just passed his knees. He was just standing, staring…

You froze in place, watching… You felt paralysed, like you’d spotted a large spider on the wall, staring at it to make sure it didn’t move out of sight because losing it was worse than staring in fear.

It didn’t move, just standing there, staring down.

A rush of anger hit you out of nowhere – this fucker was trespassing on your property, scaring you stupid. You’d locked this prick out when you’d come home, and so he thought it was okay to skulk around your land, trying to frighten you?

Fuck that. No. Enough of this.

You wiped your hands on the dish towel to the side, instinctively reaching for the biggest knife in your knife block on the counter before running to the back door. You unbolted the top and bottom, and ran out into the evening with a surge of adrenaline.

“HEY!” you yelled, like you had when you’d seen him in your hallway, “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”

The figure didn’t move, still staring down as you approached quickly from behind. You stayed back a few feet, clutching the knife in your hand and ready to use it should this fucker try anything…

“Answer me…” your voice shook with fear, no matter how hard you tried to keep it steady and strong. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing on my land?”

A dark chuckle… The shoulders of the figure shook with his laugh, and it only pissed you off more.

“Your land? Interesting…” the figure muttered, his voice thick with a heavy Italian accent and gruff like he hadn’t spoken aloud in decades.

“I-I’ll call the cops…” you threatened, “just leave and no one gets hurt.”

His head cocked up at that, turning to look over his shoulder. For the first time, you got a small glimpse at his face, and the eye that gleamed brighter than it should. He seemed to be smirking, as if this situation was somehow funny to him.

“You would hurt me, cara mio?” he teased, his eyes flitting down to the knife you held extended towards him. “I did not have you pegged for a violent woman.”

It caught you off guard, the way he spoke to you. Was he trying to belittle you? Make you question your own self-defense to weaken you? You wouldn’t let that happen.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him defiantly, ignoring his comments and still wielding the knife.

“Paying my respects,” he grumbled, as if he were annoyed by an intrusive question.

“Th-this is my property, and you need to leave. I’ve seen you in my house, and you need to go before I call the cops,” you repeated yourself, your voice shaking.

“Why did you buy this house?” he asked, frustratingly ignoring your warnings.

“None of your business-“

“It is my business,” he snapped, “This house belonged to my family,” he span on the spot, finally facing you. His expression was intimidating, his eyes – now visibly different colours – were boring into you, just begging you to try something. “These are their graves. This is their house. It does not, and will never, belong to you.”

“Well you might want to tell the bank that, Mr, uh…” his name escaped you, forgetting the surname that you’d uncovered weeks ago on the graves behind him.

“Emeritus,” he smiled sadistically. “Terzo Emeritus, and this house is mine.”

He took a step closer to you, and naturally you stepped back in fear. The grip on the knife readjusted with the second step he took, readying yourself to use it should you need to.

“But a pretty thing like you? I’m willing to share…”

“Don’t make another move…” you jabbed the knife forward a little, raising your voice in an attempt to appear threatening. “I know there’s some creep going around town, snatching people… And now you’re here, in MY house, threatening me?”

“I think I’m the one being threatened, cara mio…”

“SHUT UP!” you yelled. “Leave, now. Or I will call the fucking police.”

His hands, encased in leather gloves, shot up in a defensive pose, his smile widening sickeningly. He stopped approaching, but his morbidly beautiful eyes slowly scanned you from head to toe, taking you in, analysing. For a moment, you were locked in a stalemate, staring each other down. You thought maybe he was sizing you up, waiting for the opportune moment to strike like a predator hunting its prey.

But instead of pouncing like you’d expected, he turned back around and knelt down before the graves.

“Penso che forse lei non è così affezionato a me come io sono di lei, non siete d'accordo? (I think maybe she is not as fond of me as I am of her, don’t you agree?)” he mumbled, as if the dead could hear every word. “Non temere, non lascerò che questa bellezza mi scaccia, i miei fratelli. Questa è casa nostra e imparerà a godere della mia compagnia. (Fear not, I will not let this beauty drive me away, my brothers. This is our house, and she will learn to enjoy my company.)”

“W-what did you say?” you stuttered, still wielding the knife. He looked briefly over his shoulder at you.

“Non vedevo tanta bellezza da più di un secolo, (I haven’t seen such beauty in over a century,)” he spoke to the graves again. “Non dal mio esilio e ritorno. (not since my exile and return.)”

You were growing more and more frustrated as he spoke his mother tongue to thin air, waiting for him to do something – even if that something were to force you to defend yourself. This was just… bizarre.

He stood again, kissing the tips of his gloves and pressing them to each headstone, save for one on the end. Why he missed that one, you weren’t sure, but you couldn’t focus on that right now. He seemed to be saying a goodbye, as if he were actually going to leave upon your request.

“Until next time, bella cosa (pretty thing),” he bowed his head a little and began to walk towards you, giving you a wide berth but keeping his eyes trained on you at all times. You figured he was simply making sure you didn’t try to stab him as he passed, walking himself out of the gates of your land and a little ways down the street before he turned back to you, and blew you a slow, calculated flying kiss.

As he continued to walk away down the lane that stretched towards town, you quickly glanced back at the graves, noting now that the names did indeed all share a common family name.

Primo Emeritus. Secondo Emeritus. Copia Emeritus. Terzo Emeritus.

Your eyes widened. You were sure that was the name he just told you belonged to him? That wasn’t possible… Such an unusual name, and he’d made no mention of being a ‘Terzo Junior’, or ‘Terzo the second’. And it was the only grave he didn’t plant his kiss to…

You span around in the grass beneath your feet, looking out down the lane you’d just seen him walking down and yet, he was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t in the fields that lined the lane into town, and the road stretched with no bends for at least two miles, no obstructions at all. You should be able to still see him walking, running even if he had chosen to. He hadn’t had time to vanish like he had, in mere seconds.

Your head whipped back to the grave – his grave? – before you shook your head of the nonsense that he might well be some kind of spirit who can appear or disappear in the blink of an eye. These ‘occurrences’ were nothing more than fuel for a spooky story around a campfire. None of this was true, you’d just… lost sight of him, or misjudged the view of the road. Something, anything, had to explain this away.

But it didn’t stop you from bolting back through the garden and into the kitchen, slamming the door behind you with the knife still in hand and bolting the door shut, heart thumping in your ears.

You slept with that knife under your mattress that night.

His face haunted you, both day and night. No matter what you did, or how you tried to refocus your mind, to fixate on only your renovations, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. In the few days since the incident by the graves, you were questioning your sanity more than ever.

Had that even been real? Was he real? He couldn’t possibly be… The way he disappeared in an instant every time you saw him led you only to the conclusion that you’d lost your mind, officially. You must have concocted this spectre after seeing his name on the grave when you’d cleared the landscaping around them. You told yourself that over and over again.

That became harder to do though, when you’d spot him out by the graves again not even a week after the first time. You’d been installing some small curtains to the window by the kitchen sink for you to hide the site from view when you’d spooked yourself at the mere thought of that night, and yet there he was again.

You stared in shock, frozen and motionless, as he turned his head towards the house, looking it up and down, before his gaze settled on you in the window. He raised his hand, but before he could gesture a wave at you, you shut the new curtains and obscured his view, darting out of the kitchen and hiding in the dining room still full of packed boxes.

Your heart pounded as it always did when your imagination ran away with you and spooked you like this. You shook your head, told yourself to snap the fuck out of it.

But then you saw him every evening.

Always by the graves, always turning to wave at you, no matter from which window you were watching him from. You did your best to hide, to ignore it and tell yourself he wasn’t real. You just had to keep going, to continue your work and maybe find a good psychologist in town one of these days.

This plan of wilful ignorance was barely working, but what else could you do? Giving this apparition any kind of attention would surely only make it worse, whether he was a figment of your imagination or a genuine ghost from the past.

Ignoring him was hard. There was such a large part of you that wanted more information about him, to learn where he’d come from, why he haunted you. He was intriguing, if terrifying. The face that followed your dreams, both day and night, was starting to become all too familiar, all too comfortable. If it weren’t for that ghostly white eye of his, he’d have quite a charming face. His glare wouldn’t seem so dark if it wasn’t pierced by the white glow, and perhaps he wouldn’t be so threatening… Home invasion and grave haunting aside.

Still, you did your best to continue as normal. The renovations continued, and before long you had stripped every room upstairs of the aged and withered wallpaper that desperately needed replacing. Finally, you could start decorating to your own tastes – starting with your bedroom.

After a trip to the nearest hardware store, and a delivery of wooden slats, you got busy creating the wainscoting that was to run along the bottom three feet of the wall in your bedroom. The idea was to panel it, and then paint everything a beautiful deep shade of royal purple. The hardwood floor was going to be stained a dark shade throughout the entire upstairs, but you’d managed to source a stunning Persian rug in a purple that matched the aesthetic you were hoping for. The furniture – the items you’d had moved to the basement – were already perfect for the room, matching the bed that had also been left behind. You’d chosen gold metal accents to replace the handles on the wardrobe and chest of drawers, and sourced lamps and trinkets in the same gold to match.

After no longer than a week, you’d completed the room with a mix and match of modern and Victorian gothic aesthetics. Frankly, it looked like a Pinterest board – but it was so inherently you.

When you’d laid the finishing touches to the room, you stood in the middle of it, proudly looking around with a wide grin on your face at the beautifully finished space. That estate agent couldn’t see the potential of this house, but you had the second you stepped foot inside. And whilst it was only one room, the rest of the house still just the bare skeletal bones of a home, this was a huge victory.

“I like what you’ve done with my bedroom, bella cosa (pretty thing).”

Your body stiffened at the sound of his voice, coming from the doorway behind you. You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head and willing for the nightmare to stop. You hadn’t heard him, you were imagining it. You had to be.

Except, you heard footsteps behind you, on the hardwood floors. His shoes clacked with every step, slow and deliberate as if he was taking in his surrounding, inspecting your work. When you braved opening your eyes, that’s exactly what he was doing.

He really was here.

“Grazie for keeping my furniture, cara mio. I was always fond of it, and you’ve given it new life,” he said, ogling the wardrobe as he dragged his gloved fingertips along the edge of the wood.

“And purple, too…” he span on his heels to face you, a warm smile crossing his dark features, “My favourite colour.”

“How did you get in here?” you asked, voice shaking as you watched him look around the room.

“I told you, cara, this was my house. I know every entrance and exit there is,” his mismatched eyes settled on you again, “even the ones you don’t.”

He was lying. There were only three ways in or out of the house, and they were all locked – bolted, latched, even the cellar doors in the basement were chained shut.

“This is not your house,” you argued, spitting the words through grit teeth. “You need to leave. I will call the police.”

His eyes darkened again, a veil of threat overcoming him.

“And I told you, this has always been my house.”

You weighed your options. Your phone was on the kitchen counter downstairs; if you were fast enough, you could run down to it and out the back door before he caught you, calling the police as you ran along the road into town. If you didn’t fuck it up, you could even lock him in, taking the key from the back door and locking it shut behind you, leaving him gift wrapped for the cops.

You just had to be quick.

And you tried, you really did. You bolted out of the bedroom, running down the length of the long hall towards the top of the stairs. You hadn’t heard him behind you, his shoes making no noise behind you and so you imagined he’d been left stunned by your sudden departure, giving you a head start.

So you hadn’t expected a pair of large, strong hands to grip you by the tops of your arms at the top of the stairs, and slam your body into the wall. A sharp pain radiated up through your spine, but you cried out in fear more so than pain when you realised he’d trapped you, palms flat against the wall by your head and arms encasing you.

Instinct had you closing your eyes, squeezing them shut and waiting for the next blow, or for this nightmare to end. You could feel a cool breeze against your cheek as you turned your head away from the man trapping you, as if his breath were ice cold.

“Look at me, cara mio,” he ordered, his voice deep and slow. You whimpered beneath him, trying to plant yourself flat against the wall to get as far away from him as possible. “Per favore, I want to see you.”

You wanted to deny him, but his silence said he’d wait for an eternity until you did. And you didn’t want to find out just how aggressive he could be, if given the chance. So slowly, you opened your eyes, looking at him through your peripheral vision before you turned your head ever so slightly.

His face was so close to yours, hovering above you. His eyes flickered across your features, like he was looking for something, or maybe mapping every feature and committing it to his memory for some nefarious reason.

This close to him, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same… You avoided his eyes, noting instead how his skin seemed pale for an Italian man, but soft and smooth without a single imperfection. His jawline was chiselled, like you’d cut your palm if you tried to slap him. He had frown lines in his forehead that came with a life of frustration, yet forked lines from the outer corners of his eyes that came with a life of happiness; neither made him look haggard, yet showed he wasn’t quite as youthful as you.

Despite his pale complexion, his lips remained a soft pink. They were full, parted as you both silently examined each other up close. That breeze you felt was most definitely his breath, which you’d expected to be warmer but given the situation, perhaps it was your fear adding to the chill.

Running out of features to scan, you landed on his eyes; the eyes that haunted you more than any you’d seen. At first glance, the colour mismatch was disconcerting. It would put anybody on edge, perhaps make them wonder if he’d fallen victim to some kind of accident or birth defect but the more you stared, the more you fell into them. You couldn’t place why, but they seemed older than the rest of his features, holding more wisdom than you might have expected.

“Are you real?” you asked him, logic and reason battling against the very real fear that you were imagining him, that he was some kind of spirit that haunted his family home you’d never be rid of. But you’d felt him. His hands had been the ones to throw you against this wall, his body was imposing on yours as he trapped you. He was solid, flesh and blood. But there was an innate and visceral fear that something was wrong.

At your question, his eyes met yours, and his lips quirked into a playful smile.

“I am very real, cara mio,” he assured, taking his hand from beside your head and wrapping his gloved fingers around your wrist. He lifted your palm, gently laying it flat against his chest. “Can you not feel me?”

You could. He was solid, like you’d now discovered and you could feel his heartbeat beneath his shirt. Still, something felt wrong. He had no body heat like a normal living man through a simple cotton shirt should, and the heartbeat you felt was significantly slower than it should be.

“Who are you?” you whimpered, palm to his chest without even an attempt to remove it.

“I told you who I was. Terzo Emeritus.”

“J-junior?” you asked him. His brow creased in confusion, missing what you were asking entirely. “Terzo Junior? The grave, it… it says Terzo.”

Now he understood, sensing your confusion and chuckling lightly at it.

“Just Terzo,” he told you, gentle grip still on your wrist. You could pull your hand away if you tried, and yet, you kept it in place as if his own slow heartbeat was somehow reducing your own to a more comfortable pace.

You were at a loss for words now, brain running far too quickly to settle on something suitable to say to him. But at least now you had grown aware of your palm still settled on his chest, prompting you to rip it from his grip expecting him to put up some kind of resistance, to which you met none.

“What do you want from me?” you asked him, unable to tear your eyes from him in the same manner you’d torn your wrist from him.

“Perhaps only your company,” he shrugged slightly, raising an eyebrow in suggestion. “To exist with you, here.”

“This is my house…”

“Sí, so you keep saying.” A beat of silence passed as you thought of what he was truly asking, what that even meant.

“I want you to stay away from me,” you insisted, finding a shred of strength within you. Terzo took in a deep breath through his nose, letting it go as he studied you.

“I don’t think I can do that, cara mio,” he sighed. His admission had tears forming in your waterline, a new fear that you wouldn’t be able to shake this man’s seemingly growing obsession with you. All you wanted was peace, solitude and an escape but you’d fallen into a web, and the spider was crawling towards you agonisingly slowly.

You took a few deep breaths, each exhale shaky. You just wanted him to go, to leave you alone. Maybe this had been his house once before, but it was yours now, and he couldn’t stay here. He already seemed infatuated with you, if the way he looked at you now was anything to go by. His eyes drank you in like he was a starving man, and you were the ripest of fruits for him to devour.

“Please, I just want to be left alone…” you begged, tilting your head back against the wall and letting the tears fall as you squeezed your eyes shut, suppressing a sob in your chest.

Silence descended, and suddenly the weighted oppression of his presence vanished with a swift breeze. Even with your eyes shut, you could feel he wasn’t entrapping you anymore but when you opened them, you saw he wasn’t anywhere near you at all.

He’d vanished again, faster than a snap of your fingers.

And you were left wondering if any of that, once again, was real or a fantasy of your own making. You were so sure you felt a solid body, a real heartbeat. You weren’t a scientist, nor a paranormal specialist but you would assume if he was the spirit of the man buried in your back yard, you wouldn’t be able to feel him in such a way.

But now he had vanished, the feeling he left with you felt very much like an oppressive presence, a lingering energy. Now he left you with the anxiety of another visit without warning, another appearance to trick you into believing your delusions were true.

You expected to see him again.

Another week passed, a surface layer of anxiety lingering persistently. All you could do was focus your attention on your project, doing your absolute best to continue as normal. Now you had finished the master bedroom, you moved onto the upstairs bathroom, which had needed gutting and refitting.

You’d had a small team of plumbers in to replace the pipes through the house just as you had electricians to rewire the place before you’d moved in, and until now, all you’d had was the bare bones of a shiny new bathroom. You’d installed some counters with a new sink, the gold hardware matching around the bathroom. The marble top was a beautifully tasteful black with gold veins to match the black wood of the cabinets.

Even in here, you stuck to your darker aesthetic. The walls were painted a beautiful matte black, the floor tiled with black and white squares. It took you all week, two of those days on tiling alone. But it was something to focus on, a room that you knew would be frequently used and so needed to be finished now your bedroom was complete.

When it came to adding the finishing touches, it felt like the cherry on top of another beautifully made cake. Your house was quickly turning into a showroom, a place that could be featured in home renovation magazines had you been willing to open it up.

But already, you’d had one too many visitors in your home for your liking…

By the end of the week, you were exhausted – more so than usual. The anxiety of feeling watched, monitored, stalked was taking its toll on you, and you needed some respite. For all you knew, Terzo Emeritus could show up at any moment to frighten, repulse and excite you. It was weighing heavy, and your mind was just as spent as your body was.

As you headed to bed that evening, you allowed yourself some self-care in the bathroom you’d now finished. The point of renovating this house was to enjoy it, right? So why deny yourself that…

You filled the new clawfoot tub with hot water, brimming with bubbles and scents that had you falling into a state of total calm before you’d even sunk into it. Your tiny little radio joined you in the bathroom, tuned to a station that played nothing but classical, and on a bath shelf you’d bought you rested some candles, a book and a full glass of red wine to enjoy as you pampered yourself.

Sinking into the water, you relished in the feeling of being submerged in its warmth. Almost instantly, the tension in your shoulders melted away, eyes closing in bliss as your head slipped back to rest against the tub’s edge. You couldn’t help but let out a hum of satisfaction, the relief and pleasure accumulating in a soft moan.

As you let your body relax, a noise caught your attention; a floorboard, creaking just outside of the bathroom door. Your eyes shot open, your body reacting and freezing in place. However when you let your eyes roam over to the mirror above the bathroom sink, you saw him…

By force of habit, you’d left the bathroom door ajar, a small gap just large enough to be able to see that ghostly eye of his in the dim hallway, and the outline of him peeking through the door. Your heart rate hammered in your chest as it always did when you saw him, but you remained still. For now, he wasn’t making any kind of move, and he didn’t seem to be aware you had seen him.

But he was definitely there, watching you as you bathed. It was violating, invasive, perverse… And yet, you did nothing about it.

Instead, you sank further underneath the bubbles, reaching for your wine glass with your eyes trained on the mirror. You took a sip, relishing in the taste and releasing another satisfied moan as if putting on a damn show for him. What possessed you to do so, you had no idea, but he’d been tormenting your mind for weeks now – why couldn’t you do the same to him?

Reaching for your loofah, you dunked it under the water and sat upright, back exposed to him. You stretched your arm out, running the loofah along your skin in a slow and deliberate manner. You were careful to never expose yourself too much, but to tease with the expanse of pretty, bare skin to conjure enough suggestion in his mind that would leave a man desperate to see more.

When you ran the loofah up the length of your leg just above the water, you heard the floorboards creak again, like he was fidgeting on the other side of the door. You checked in the mirror to see if he was still there, and he most certainly was, but you were having the effect on him you hoped for.

Perhaps you stretched it out a little longer than necessary, running the loofah over your body more than needed but you were making your point. Your wicked little mind was ticking over, aware he could only see what you wanted him to; your shoulders and head above the bubbles from behind. Do you dare to cross the line…?

Perhaps the thrill of being watched was having an effect on you too, because you came to the conclusion that yes, you did dare to cross the line.

You lay back against the tub again, using the loofah now to run across your shoulders and down between the valley of your breasts, which the bubbles were barely covering in your relaxed position. You trailed the loofah further down, reaching over your stomach and between your legs.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you brushed the loofah over your core, now realising that washing yourself so intimately – and being watched while doing so – had aroused you more than you’d first thought. A flash of pleasure had you squeezing your eyes shut again, and you couldn’t stop yourself from grazing over your centre with added pressure, hips rocking in the water.

Before long, you abandoned the loofah all together, and from where he was stood, Terzo could see it float and bob up to the surface which had him drawing only one conclusion; you were definitely not just washing yourself.

You worked slowly, methodically. It had been so long since you’d let go like this, since you’d last touched yourself at all and you wanted to savour it, to enjoy it. You were in no rush, working your fingers in gentle and slow circles over your clit under the water. The moans that you let slip weren’t at all restrained or controlled; for all you knew, you were alone, right? So why would you hold back?

It was impossible not to keep checking the mirror, to make sure he was still there and every time, he was. You couldn’t help but let your imagination run away with you, picturing him entering the room, kneeling down beside the tub and reaching his hand between your legs for you. You pictured him taking you from the bathroom, into the bedroom and having his way with you, dark, handsome and brooding as he always had been.

You imagined his hands beneath his gloves, his bare fingertips tracing patterns into your skin, his full lips trailing kisses down your still wet body. What did he look like under those layers of his? How would he feel under your own fingertips? How would he feel inside you?

But Terzo made no such move. Instead, he watched silently from the shadows, and each time you caught that glimpse of him your hips bucked towards your hand until eventually, you couldn’t hold back anymore and allowed yourself to fall over the precipice.

Your orgasm was powerful, thanks to not only the lack of self love recently, but also, the arousal of becoming an exhibitionist. It rippled through your body like the water around you, and had you crying out wordlessly as you sank further into the water up to your chin. You hadn’t felt so good in a long time, and it worked perfectly to relieve the remainder of that tension in your body.

As you came down from the orgasm, you dared to glance back at the mirror only to find that he’d vanished. Another little disappearing act, only this time, you found yourself free of the anxiety that usually came with that, and instead smug with the knowledge you might have got one over on him for a change. You’d teased him to a point that he couldn’t tear his eyes from you until it was over, and for a moment you felt truly powerful. At least, if he were real… and not a fantasy you’d concocted for yourself. There was still the very real possibility that all of this was just your own madness and loneliness, and you were just now starting to lean into the delusions as a form of self-preservation.

For a little while longer, you stayed put in the tub, enjoying your book, the rest of your wine and the music in the background. Of course, you kept checking on the mirror to see if maybe he’d return for another look, but nothing. It was twisted, the way your stomach drooped in disappointment each time, but you brushed it off. You were sure before long, you would see him again – whether real or fictional.

Once you had finished in the bathroom, draining the tub and rinsing the suds away, you floated back into your bedroom wrapped in a bathrobe and ready to sink into bed with your book. You pottered around, changing into some pyjamas and crawling under the sheets when a glimpse of colour caught the light beside your bed, earning your attention.

Hanging from your bedside lamp was a pendant, and most certainly not one of yours. They were stored in a jewellery box atop the dresser, not hung on display like this… but it was beautiful, and you reached over to lay the charm in your palm and inspect it properly.

It was simple, yet elegant. The charm was shaped like a water drop, except the stone was purple; perhaps amethyst or a rarer sapphire but it caught the light exceptionally. Surrounding it, were smaller stones that resembled diamonds, but your knowledge of precious stones couldn’t confirm whether they were in fact real, or if this were costume jewellery. It didn’t matter though, it was beautiful as it was, sparkling under your bedside lamp.

You had no idea how it got here, but you could hazard a guess. It had been left for you like a gift, delicately placed in a position that would get your attention. There was only one person it could have come from, and as you played with the unusual pendant under the light, you began to realise that maybe he wasn’t the figment of your imagination you were trying to pass him off as…

The next morning, you had a revived energy, a spring in your step from a decent night’s sleep. The time spent on self care seemed to do the job, relieving the stress enough for you to be ready to tackle the downstairs living room next. Truthfully, your new found vigour may have also had something to do with a large part of you giving in to the idea that Terzo was not a fantasy, he’d been very real this whole time.

You still had no idea who he was, or how he was a real person. You were beginning to think that perhaps spirits did walk the earth, just by how he seemed to appear and disappear on a dime. But you remembered the heartbeat, the solid chest under your palm…

There were so many questions. Who was he? A descendant of the family this house once belonged to, and rested in your garden? How does he keep getting in? He mentioned entrances you might not know about, but you’d searched thoroughly, or so you thought. Was he obsessed with you? Stalking you?

Was he dangerous?

His behaviour was most definitely shady – people don’t just come and go in other people’s homes as they please. But you’d never reported him, no matter how much you’d threatened it. To begin with you’d hoped the threat of calling the cops would be enough to deter him, but he always came back. And at every opportunity, he could have done something to hurt you, yet never did. Even last night, you were in a completely vulnerable position. And whilst peeping on you in the bath was absolutely a violation and a crime in itself, all he did was watch. And you let him.

His existence was confusing, but you’d surrendered to the notion that he did in fact exist; and honestly, that in itself was quite freeing. It felt like some kind of weight had lifted, and it made beginning work on the living room easier to stomach.

This room had suffered in the years the house sat in decay. The old windows had made way for black mould to grow around it, and whilst you’d had the windows replaced since, the mould was still present. Your first job was to clean the walls and potentially replace some of the floorboards, if the moisture had taken hold of the wood.

Armed with a bucket of diluted bleach and a sponge, you got to work scrubbing at the walls and the large window sill that you were planning to convert into a cosy nook; a perfect place to sit and watch the world go by, book in hand. Your little radio sat on the mantelpiece of the stunning fireplace you were going to bring back to life, blaring out the same cycle of tunes you were used to now you’d tuned it back from the classical of last night.

You let yourself zone out as you scrubbed at the mould, singing along to the radio now you knew most of the songs blaring from it. It was a wonder you weren’t sick of them yet, but you still hadn’t got around to unpacking your record player that was supposed to have a home in this particular room. First, you had to finish it though, of course.

As one song ended, the radio host announced a lunchtime bulletin. By this time you were only half listening, fixated on the satisfying cleaning job.

“It’s 1pm, you’re listening to 108.3fm – here’s your lunchtime bulletin. Police have made a shocking discovery after the disappearance of 25 year old Amanda Riley just three days ago.”

Your ears perked up at the news, now getting your attention. Another one? This was concerning, terrifying even. And now they’d made a discovery?

“Human remains were discovered just outside of town in a wooded area yesterday, which police have now confirmed are that of Amanda. Family members formally identified the body, and police have given a statement to locals urging caution and vigilance. Sheriff Ansel had this to say…

“‘We believe Ms. Riley’s murder to be connected to the string of disappearances in the area in the last few months. The victim was found with all her personal belongings still on her person, including wallet, cash, ID and mobile phone, however when the family came to formally identify the body, they noted that the only thing taken from her was her unusual pendant…’”

Your blood turned cold. The hand still scrubbing at the wall froze in place, and slowly, you turned to look at the radio as if it was speaking directly to you.

“‘The pendant is recognisable as a purple amethyst in a teardrop shape, surrounded by smaller white diamonds. While the item is valuable, we believe that the killer may have taken such a personal item as a trophy, which could be part of their M.O. Still, we are urging the public to please keep an eye out to see if we can trace this item, either in pawn shops or perhaps being sold online. We ask that you not panic, and please get in touch if you note anything suspicious. Thank you.’”

Your hand dropped the sponge back into the bucket of diluted bleach, drifting up to your chest where that very same pendant was sat against your skin. You’d put it on that morning, barely even thinking about it, just because you liked it.

But he’d given it to you. Left it out in the open for you, like he was proud of it. He’d given you a dead girl’s fucking necklace. And there was only one way he could have got it…

You stood up, running into the kitchen and colliding with the sink before your body displayed it’s disgust by vomiting violently. All those unanswered questions, and yet, one of them had been answered.

Who was he? A murderer.

As you coughed and spluttered your breakfast into the sink, your mind raced. She wasn’t the only missing person, just the first body to have been found. There were others. So many others, for nine months. Thirteen missing people, one of which found dead with this fucking necklace missing.

You felt dizzy, like a wave of vertigo hit you in an instant. You hobbled over to the fridge, clutching at the kitchen counter to keep yourself steady and rooting around for a bottle of water. Your hands shook as you unscrewed the lid, taking a sip to rinse out your mouth as you stumbled back to the sink to spit. You took another sip, this time swallowing and trying your best to focus on the sensation of the cool water trickling down your throat. But your head was too busy.

Trophies. He was taking trophies? Why? This sick bastard must enjoy it, he must relish in his kills, wanting something to remember each one by. What else had he taken…? And then you remembered.

The box under the floorboards.

You slammed the water bottle down on the side, a jet propelling out onto the work surface from the force. Before you knew it your feet were moving of their own accord, up the stairs and down the hall. You were unsteady, tripping into the walls as you walked. You needed to know, but you didn’t want to.

Stumbling into the bare room, you fell to your knees with a hard smack where the floorboard was loose. Shaking hands lifted the plank, reaching underneath to check the box was still there; it was. You pulled it from its hiding place setting it down on the floor while you racked up the courage to open it again.

In one quick motion, you unlocked the latch and flung the lid open like ripping off a band aid. All the items were still there, just the way you’d left them, including the watch that had made you question them in the first place. It looked like it could have been vintage, save for the date wound to March of this year.

You looked at the collection of random items; the watch, the cuff links, the old red lipstick, the cheap bracelet, a skeleton key, a tiny used bottle of perfume, a red comb, an old butterfly hairpin, a daisy pin badge, a rusty swiss army knife, a fountain pen and a vintage zippo lighter.

Twelve items.

With the necklace, that made thirteen. Thirteen items. Thirteen victims. Thirteen trophies.

“I should have hidden them better, eh?”

The sound of his voice had your body stiffening in fear, skin instantly peppered with goosebumps. You hadn’t even begun to think about confronting him or having to see him. You weren’t sure what you were going to do yet, but you’d have hoped to have time to calm yourself down and think rationally about your options.

But you were going to have to do this ad-hoc.

“I don’t often make mistakes, bella cosa, but when I do… They haunt me. I suppose my kindness is coming back to bite me on the culo (ass).”

He sounded surprisingly calm for a man who’d just been found out to be a serial killer. It unnerved you, and no part of you could figure out his next move. You were a sitting duck.

Slowly, and carefully, you stood up, turning around to look at him. Part of you worried if you startled him with sudden movement, he might strike like any predator would its prey.

He was stood in the doorway, leaning up against the wood with his hands buried in the pockets of his slacks, coat pushed back behind them. He looked far too casual, his face hinting at neither anger nor humour – nowhere on the emotional spectrum.

“Kindness?” you asked, ruminating over his use of the word. “There’s no kindness in what you’ve done.” Perhaps it was dangerous to speak so ill of the murderer in front of you, but you couldn’t help yourself.

His neutral expression darkened in a warning glare, his chin tipping up so he was looking down on you, adding to his intimidating aura.

“Not everybody deserves kindness, cara mio. Some deserve far less,” he challenged, pushing himself off the doorframe and taking slow steps into the room, keeping a distance from you still.

“No one deserves that…”

Terzo scoffed, looking off to gaze out of the window and shaking his head as if what you said offended him in some way.

“So now you know,” he shrugged, looking back towards you, his hands still shoved deep in his pockets. You kept an eye on them, mind racing with all kinds of possibilities – he could have a weapon of some sorts hidden from view. You needed to be on your guard. “I suppose you will report me now, sí?”

There was a playful glint in his eyes that you didn’t miss, like he was taunting you, waving a red flag to a bull. If you said you were, would he attack you too? But surely he couldn’t simply take your word for it if you said you wouldn’t either… Truthfully, you weren’t sure what you were going to do. Your only instinct was to run – fast.

You let his question linger in the air, far too much silence going by as he watched you, assuming you’d frozen in fear. He hadn’t expected you to dart towards the door, your only goal to get downstairs and out of the house as quickly as possible. So when you did exactly that, he watched for a split second, anger snapping inside him.

You barely made it out of the room before you felt a sudden force slam you forwards and into the wall of the corridor. A scream erupted from your chest, blood-curdling and gut-wrenching to anyone who would have heard it – but out here? No one would. How he’d moved so fast, you had no idea, but he had both of your wrists behind your back, and his whole body weight held you tightly against the wall.

“You are leaving so soon?” he asked, leaning in to speak directly in your ear as you writhed under him to try and escape, but his grip was too strong even without him putting seemingly any effort into it. “I was just getting used to you living in my house…”

“This is MY house,” you growled, gritting your teeth and avoiding his eyes.

“Then why should you want to leave? Are you scared I might hurt you, cara mio?”

Tears spilled from your waterline, giving away your fear and distress. Of course you were scared he was going to hurt you. He’d already hurt so many…

When he received no answer from you other than a sob in defeat and the stilling of your limbs as you gave up fighting his grip, he manhandled you until you span around, your back now against the wall just like it had been the other day.

“Th-this isn’t real… You’re not real…” you whispered to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut in the hopes you might wake up from your nightmare. You did not.

“I’m quite real, cara. We’ve been over this, no?” he lifted your wrist again like he had the other day, this time settling your hand delicately on his cheek and holding it there with his much bigger palm. “See?”

His gentility confused you, and when you opened your eyes, you saw a strange softness in his face. For a moment, you almost thought his expression was one of admiration. It didn’t matter what it was, but you couldn’t look away. This man – this serial killer – was being so gentle with you, his eyes cast over you like he was utterly obsessed with you.

“Why?” you whispered, more tears spilling over your cheeks. Still, you held his, despite his grip on your hand lessening ever so slightly. You wanted to understand, talk him down maybe just enough to let you go. You wanted to appeal to the softness you saw in him.

“I have no choice,” he said flatly, almost with a hint of shame. But that only crossed the wires in your mind more.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“I choose them carefully… They are not good people, cara. They have ruined others lives, even taken them and I-“ he stopped himself, looking down at the floor in shame. Your brows creased together, trying to piece your thoughts into coherency.

“It’s always a choice,” you started to argue back, softly so as not to raise any more rage within him in such a precarious position such as the one you found yourself in beneath him. But his head snapped back up nonetheless, his hand gripping onto yours and throwing it back down beside you. He kept you caged beneath him still, hands planted firmly on the wall.

“I assure you, bella ragazza (pretty girl), there is no choice. It is me or them.”

Slowly, he raised his head from where he’d stared at the floorboards between your feet. His eyes watched you closely as he tilted his head back a little, and his lips parted until you could clearly see two very white, very sharp fangs protruding from under his top lip.

For a moment you didn’t react at all, calculating what you were seeing. His hands hadn’t moved, so he hadn’t put them in himself. You’d seen him so many times, and up close too, and never saw them before… They had to be real. He had fangs.

“That’s impossible…” you whispered, “there’s no such thing as-“

“Vampires?” he finished your sentence for you, “I’m sorry to shatter your illusion of a perfect world, cara mio, but I can assure you, there certainly is.”

Finally, your survival instincts kicked in, adrenaline pumping through your veins almost in an instant. You shoved your hands against his chest and pushed with all the strength you had, trying to get him away from you, to preserve yourself. All this time you had felt like prey, and it had been instinct all along. You were prey.

Your shove did nothing. He remained unmoving, like stone encasing you against the wall. You thrashed your arms around, trying to escape him but it was completely useless. You were already trapped, and at the mercy of a real vampire.

“I’m sorry, cara mio, but you will not overcome my strength nor my speed. This is useless, I assure you.” His voice had no hint of patronising, instead of genuine sorrow. It felt as if he knew he had to kill you now, but he didn’t want to kill you. You gave up, your fists balling up against his chest as you lay your head back against the wall, out of breath and sobbing as you accepted your fate.

“Please… don’t kill me, Terzo…” you wept, head lolling forward to look into his eyes for what you thought might be the last time.

His brow was creased, his lips parted in horror as he looked back at you. He raised his gloved hand and wiped at the tracks on your cheek. “I don’t wish to kill you, cara mio… You understand, no? I must kill to stay alive, but not you – never you.”

You barely registered what he was saying before you were shooting questions at him again, needing to know more, to understand why he chose those people. Why he kept their trophies…

“Why them? Why did you choose them? They were innocent, just like me. Why did they deserve that?” you sobbed, your chest heaving as he held your cheek, still caging you against the wall.

“The girl they found? What the polizia (police) don’t know is she was behind the wheel of an intentional hit and run a few years ago. The store clerk a few weeks back? You do not want to see what was on his hard drive. All of them, vile humans. There is more evil in this world than you could possibly fathom, tesoro. They even tasted different…” he shrivelled his face in disgust, “but it keeps me alive, and my conscience semi-clear.”

The shock of his revelation did nothing to help your racing heart or foggy mind, processing everything far slower than you would like in this tumultuous situation.

“Suppose that was true, why do you keep their things?” you prodded further – there must be some part of him that enjoys it. Even if only the fact he were proud of removing scum from the earth, if that were true.

“Because I carry their souls with me… No matter how evil, they are people, and I take their life. Each one is a burden, and I must never forget that.”

There was genuine sorrow, genuine regret there. You could see it. But it changed nothing, he was still a murderer, a monster. And you were still trapped underneath him, literally backed up against a wall and inches away from deadly threat.

“But… it’s sick, Terzo! They’re kept like trophies, like you’re proud of what you do to them!” you protested. He hollowed his cheeks in annoyance, becoming more defensive as you accused him.

The hand that wiped your tears lowered to your neck, his fingertips tracing along the chain of the necklace you had yet to take off, until it reached the unusual pendant, where he played with it against your collarbone.

“And yet, you still wear it. You had time to take it off, if you were so disgusted by it. But here it is, looking so pretty around your… beautiful neck,” he sighed, his eyes roaming hungrily over the exposed skin he so clearly wanted to puncture and drink from. The fear in you started to rise again, your pulse that had just started to settle raising. More hot tears fell over your waterline as you took a deep, shaky breath.

“What… what do you want from me?” you pleaded, your voice trembling and squeaky. His eyes flickered up to yours, fingertips still playing with the pendant, grazing the skin so gently it left goosebumps. You would never admit to the thrill his touch seemed to be giving you, knowing what you know of him now.

But Terzo leaned in further, his hips meeting yours and pressing you further against the wall. The hand that had been keeping you caged against the wall all this time dropped to your waist, holding you just enough to send a wave of curious gratification through your abdomen. He was close enough that your noses would touch, should he tip his head down to you. You could feel his icy breath against your face again – a symptom of his state of undead, you now understood.

“I want you to love me, tesoro…” he confessed in a whisper, watching for your reaction.

“I only fear you,” you defied, unable to admit the curiosity his request sparked.

“Are they not the same?” His eyebrow arched up in question, waiting for your response. But honestly, you had none. You were dumbfounded, wondering what on earth he meant by that. Of course they weren’t the same, nothing about love and fear are the same. The attraction you had felt towards him in recent encounters was fleeting; a right place, right time kind of attraction. It had nothing to do with him, and now knowing what he was, it could never be him again.

Terzo understood your silence to be an internal monologue, a debate in your own mind. He pressed further, illustrating his point.

“Let me ask you, tesoro, does the thought of me make your hairs stand on end?” his fingertips grazed along the length of your collarbone, the grip on your waist squeezing slightly, “Does it make your stomach fill with the flutter of butterfly wings? Does it make your heart beat like the thrum of a hummingbird’s wings?”

You couldn’t deny it, but those were markers of fear as well as love. It didn’t mean they were synonymous. You refused to answer him.

“I can hear it, you know…” his hand flattened against your collarbone, “The pounding in your chest, the rushing of your blood through your veins. I hear them, working so hard when you are near me.”

Terzo leaned into your neck, his nose brushing against your jugular so tenderly as he breathed in deeply, enjoying your scent to the point of near intoxication. Little did you know, it was that scent that drew him out of hiding in the first place. He simply couldn’t stay away from you, and when he saw where the scent was coming from, saw your sheer beauty, he understood why you smelled as tempting as you did.

“Fear smells just like love to me, tesoro. It adds a sweetness to your already saccharine scent. Just like nectar appeals to a honey bee, you appeal to me much the same,” he continued to nuzzle his nose against your skin, his breath fanning over your collarbone. Every so often in his clumsy, inebriated state his lips would gently tickle the skin, sending a rush through you that now you were certain he could smell. “That nectar can be turned into honey, no? I wonder if I could do the same for you…”

You bit your lip, looking up towards the ceiling in an attempt to avoid his eyes that frankly were too hypnotic for their own good.

“They are all markers of fear, Terzo…” you whimpered. You felt his breath as he chuckled against your skin.

“Then tell me why I can smell the sweetest honey already pooling between your legs, cara mio…”

Your head snapped down to look at him, and you met his eyes already waiting for you, a smirk on his lips. You wanted to deny it, to slap him, to push him away from you but what was the point? He was right. There was no denying it. He could smell you.

The shame you felt, letting a monster like him have such an effect on you, was astronomical.

“Please…” you pleaded; for what, you weren’t sure.

“What is it, cara mio? What can I give you?” he asked, straightening up and again cupping your cheek with his gloved hand, still holding your waist, still pressing his hips to yours. His lips were so close, all you could do was stare at them until you snapped yourself out of it, looking him directly in the eyes.

“Everything.”

It took no longer than a heartbeat for Terzo to process your answer, before his lips attached to yours so fast and hard you felt his fangs scrape against your bottom lip. A thrill zapped your core, and your balled up fists against his chest gripped the lapels of his coat to bring him impossibly close. You succumbed so quickly to him, desperate to feel his lips against yours.

While you were sure this feeling was not love, it was certainly not fear either. ‘Infatuation’ felt closer to the truth, borderline obsession just as Terzo had exhibited towards you. But denying it was futile now, and so instead, you leaned into it. The pair of you desperately held onto each other, kissing as if this was the only way you could get oxygen, and you’d been suffocating without each other.

Terzo started to move, trailing his passion down to your jawline, underneath your ear and down to your neck. Your heartrate quickened again, knowing that his mouth near your neck could go only one of two ways. Both options seemed to excite you in equal measures…

“W-will it hurt…?” you asked him, as you felt his fangs graze against your skin lightly, like he was holding himself back.

“Just for a second…” he panted like a dog laying out in the sun. And he wasn’t wrong, the pain would be momentary, his fangs emitting a small amount of venom that acts as an anaesthetic. That wasn’t the problem, and it wasn’t what stopped him in his tracks. “But I can’t…”

You cupped his cheeks, lifting his head to look him in the eye again. “What’s wrong?”

He looked as if he were in pain, his face screwed up in utter agony. He kept shaking his head, like he didn’t want to say it, like he was hiding a secret that would break him just to say aloud.

“If… If I do this, I might not be able to stop,” he whined, “and even if I do, how could I ever let you go after tasting you?”

You searched his eyes, saw the pain and the uncertainty in them. He truly didn’t want to hurt you, and right now he looked more vulnerable than you would think a creature of the night was capable of being.

“When you moved in I couldn’t leave you, I couldn’t stay away… And that was merely your smell, Tesoro. I’m afraid if I taste you, I could never leave you alone again.”

His admission floored you, and as much as the idea of giving yourself over to him willingly seemed to appeal to you, the rational part of your brain was still working enough to understand that that was a line that should not be crossed just yet.

“It’s okay… It’s okay,” you told him sincerely, comforting his distress before bringing his lips back to yours and resuming your heated exchange. Perhaps someday you would allow him that taste, a way of committing deeper than you could possibly comprehend at this stage. But there was a reason for the phrase “blood pact”, and it didn’t originate with the exchange of open wounds between two mortals.

As enthralled as he was in your lips, feeling your pulse beneath them tempting him, Terzo had to push the thought to the back of his mind. He couldn’t lose himself to the temptation so soon. He’d frighten you away if you saw him so feral, and he couldn’t let you disappear like everyone else in his life – not the only woman to ever have smelled so divine to him. Only he knew what that meant, that pull… You were it for him. His obsession was unavoidable, you were his promised love.

It happened instantaneously for his kind, but for you? It would take time for you to see it, to feel what he felt. Human sense of smell was nowhere near as powerful, and so you could never know just by his scent that he was the one for you, the soul on the other end of the red string tied around your wrist.

To rid his mind of the temptation, he focussed on the moment at hand. His intense grip on your waste drifted over your hips and to the backs of your thighs until he was lifting them, using his hips to ground you against the wall so you wouldn’t fall. It was as if you were weightless to him, his inhuman strength making such light work of carrying you further down the hall and into your bedroom – his bedroom – until you both fell onto the bed.

No part of you thought for even a millisecond of stopping him, an intense need for him screaming from within you. You pushed his coat from his shoulders, diverting to his shirt buttons as soon as he began pulling at his sleeves to rid himself of the heavy wool. In no time at all, his chest was bare to you, peppered with dark hair that you’d expect from a man of Italian descent. You pulled him closer to you, reattaching your lips desperately.

His gloves disappeared as you kissed him, and you couldn’t help but flinch at the touch of his cold skin on yours, his hands sliding up under the hem of your shirt to hold you. He paused for a moment, searching your face for any sign his touch wasn’t welcome.

“Just cold…” you assured him, running your fingers through the dark locks of hair that had fallen over his face as he hovered above you.

“I, eh… sí, mi scusi, I am cold to the touch…” he apologised, a wave of insecurity flashing through his expression.

“I don’t mind,” you smiled sweetly, pulling him down with your hand woven into his hair and kissing his insecurity away. He regained his confidence, grip returning to your bare waist under your shirt and tightening with gratitude at your reassurance.

The way he kissed you was like worship, like he valued every second you allowed him to touch you, to be with you – and as he slowly began to undress you, his worship continued. He started with your shirt, pushing it up your abdomen and peppering the skin with more kisses as he exposed it. Over the curve of your breast peaking from above the cup of your bra, you felt the low rumble of a groan against your chest that was suppressed as he buried his face into your flesh. He was so gentle, so calculated in his motions and it was driving you crazy already.

Once your shirt was finally above your head and discarded somewhere to the side, he pulled the straps of your bra down, kissing along your shoulders and down your arms until he reached behind you to unclasp it. Your breasts bounced before him, and he immediately began to leave open mouthed kisses over them, laving his tongue over your nipples as they stood to attention under the chill of his lips. His free hand worked at your other breast, kneading like he was making the finest ricciarelli biscuit dough.

You couldn’t help the soft whines and hums that left your body as he worshipped you, hips rolling under him in a desperate attempt to feel something more. You wanted him so badly, already overcome with desire.

His hand came to rest on your hip, squeezing and he continued to suckle at your breast. His fingers dipped easily into the waistband of your paint-smeared sweats – one of several pairs you alternated when working on the house renovations. Before long, he was dragging them down your thighs, his cold knuckles grazing at the skin and sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine.

Terzo was taking his time without wasting any. He knew what he wanted, what you wanted, but he spent just enough time working your body, lavishing it to build anticipation. But before long, his kisses began to travel south, leaving a path of wet little marks down between the valley of your breasts and your navel until he was tracing the hem of your underwear, daring to run his finger along the sensitive skin.

It took a formidable amount of strength and restraint to keep your hips as still as you did, and even then, you were wriggling under his touch. But when he could tell you were growing restless, he wrapped his arm underneath your thigh and lifted it above his shoulder. Naturally, you spread wider for him, giving him complete access to your covered core where he could see so clearly the stain of arousal.

He was so close to you, the scent of your sweet honey so intoxicating. You could never understand how divine that scent was with your own human senses, but to him? It cemented itself in his memory. He knew that after today, he would never forget it. He didn’t want to rush, but frankly, it was getting impossible to resist a taste.

He lifted the hem of your panties and pierced the material beneath it with his fangs, easily tearing it away from your body before he pressed his nose to your mound, and took in a deep inhale. He growled between your legs, the vibration and exhale teasing your nerves until you were clenching around nothing.

He could wait no longer, his tongue reaching out to lap between your folds in one slow motion. He savoured the taste on his tongue, making sure to collect as much honey as he could for a truly overwhelming taste. You watched as his hips rocked into the bed below him, his hands tightening on your thighs. His tongue felt cold too, but the pressure was so welcome, a wave of euphoria passing through your core.

Expertly, Terzo used his whole mouth to bring you the pleasure he thought you deserved and yet, not once did you worry about the sharp fangs he’d used to strip you. He had the ability to retract them should he need to, and for this particularly delicate activity, he did just that. But his lips and tongue worked together to have you moaning at every lap, hips rolling underneath him.

Your hands found their way to his hair for purchase, tugging at the roots every time he sent a surge of pleasure through your clit. He loved it, moaning with you as if he too was close to an orgasm. Both of you had lost yourselves to the moment, completely enthralled in lust.

Terzo was becoming more and more desperate to have you finish on his tongue. Each pretty little sound he caused only made him want to hear more, and as you grew closer and closer to orgasm, you sweetened with added hormones that drove him wild. He unwrapped a hand from around your thigh and easily slid two fingers inside, not bothering nor needing to tease with how your body already gave itself over to him. He curled his fingers inside you, a shock of pleasure forcing your back to arch from the mattress as he found the perfect position.

His pace increased with every moan he elicited, the tension in your lower abdomen growing until you were on the verge of snapping.

“T-Terzo… Please,” you begged him. He chuckled darkly as he buried his face deeper within you, his nose adding to the equation and making your hips writhe until finally, that tension inside you snapped.

He didn’t stop, holding you down with inhuman strength as you erupted in cries of bliss. Your muscles contracted, thighs trapping his head in place and fingers pulling painfully at his hair.

Terzo slurped at your core, not letting a single drop of arousal go to waste. You tasted different as you came, the rush of hormones adding something so damn addictive that it wasn’t until you physically tried pushing his head away in oversensitivity that he snapped out of his trance, his head jolting up to look at you with his mouth and skin shimmering. He looked completely feral, his eyes wide, and you watched as his fangs returned with a snarl of a hungry animal locking onto its kill.

Your heart jumped in your chest; out of fear or lust you couldn’t be sure. But he heard it, the irregular thump as you lay vulnerable and weak beneath him. It only served to make his erection twitch in his slacks… Fear was a powerful feeling, and mixed with lust it was one of the most erotic combinations.

He crawled his way back up your body, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before diving into a punishing kiss that knocked any remaining wind out of you. You could feel his length pressing into your hip, and while you were certainly already struggling with exertion you wanted nothing more than to know how he’d feel inside you.

So you reached between you both for his belt, fiddling with the buckle as you kissed him. Taking the hint, he kicked his shoes off over the edge of the bed, and when you’d managed to undo his belt and slacks, he helped to kick them with his underwear passed his knees to follow suit. With him bared to you and pressing into your hip once again, you could feel just how endowed he was, and just how ready for you he was.

“You are so beautiful, cara mio…” he mused between kisses, his cold fingertips trailing down your neck and arm, then back up. “And you can’t ever understand how exquisite you taste.”

“To an extent, I can…” you teased with a flirty smile, “I can taste myself on your tongue.”

He stared down at you for a moment, until realisation finally settled and his lips curled into a devilish grin.

“Tu sei una tentatrice, amore mio… (you are a temptress, my love…)” he whispered, lowering himself to your lips once again.

As you both lost yourself in another steamy kiss, you couldn’t help rolling your hips up to meet his. He hummed into your mouth, understanding that you wanted him completely, and reached between the two of you to grip himself. You spread your legs a little wider to make it easier for him, feeling how he prodded at your entrance once he’d lined himself up.

“Are you sure, amore?” he stopped to ask, and you nodded, biting your lip to contain the smile as you cupped his cheeks. With your permission, he slowly pushed forwards, filling you slowly as he glided through your slick. You fought to keep your eyes open, if only to watch the look of bliss that overcame his face – and boy was it worth it.

He looked so ethereal, like his pale skin had been carved by the finest of Greek sculptors in marble burdened with the curse of perfection. The chill of his skin did nothing to quell the burning heat of yours, finding the perfect balance.

“You’re so… warm,” he moaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck while he enjoyed the feeling for a moment. “Sembra fottutamente incredibile. (feels fucking incredible.)”

Given a moment to compose himself, he began to slowly rock his hips back and forth, gritting his teeth from the sensation alone. You would be the first to admit that he, too, felt incredible inside you, reaching places his fingers had only moments ago and sending waves of a dull pleasure through you once again at the embers of your last orgasm were being stoked.

His hand gripped your thigh and lifted it around his waist, obtaining a better angle and something for him to grip onto to stop his mind spiralling into sheer madness. Already, you were so difficult to resist; temptation was calling to him in the form of your steady, yet thundering pulse where his face lay against your neck. But if he lost himself, lost control like he was so terrified to, he was afraid resistance would fail him.

It was like torture. How could he feel so incredible pumping his length inside you while simultaneously experiencing the physical strain of holding his thirst back. You were his, he’d decided that long ago. But to truly make you his, all he would need to do was to give in, to sink his fangs into the skin he was peppering with kisses. He felt like a recovering addict desperately trying to resist as someone waved a hit under his nose. In some ways, that was exactly what he was.

But not yet. It was too soon. He had to resist for now, to let you make up your mind without ancient ritual influences before he allowed himself to truly make you his. He couldn’t bind himself to you, only for you to walk away when it all became too much, or hell forbid, you found someone more human to settle down with.

Instead, he focussed on the pleasure filling his cock as he pistoned in and out of you. He focussed on your pretty moans, and the way you clenched around him. He focussed on kisses to your neck instead of bites, groaning against your skin as he indulged in you. But too easily he lost himself, and soon he couldn’t help but drag his tongue from the bottom of your neck, to right underneath your ear.

You loved how it felt, completely oblivious to just how close you were to becoming a meal to him. To you it was simply another thing to drive you wild, and when you once again wrapped your fingers in his hair, your other arm pushing down on his back to pull him against you, you had no clue you were making it so much harder for him.

He kept suckling, licking, even nipping so gently at your neck – so fucking close to what he truly wanted as his instincts began to take over. He fought them as hard as he could snarling at himself in warning but still, you were oblivious to his internal fight and mistook his anguish for noises of pleasure.

Truly, he hadn’t meant to let it get this far; but when the sharp tip of his fang grazed just a little too close to where your pulse thundered against his tongue, and you writhed under him with a targeted hit to your g-spot, he nicked your skin just enough to draw the tiniest spec of blood… He hadn’t even noticed, your scent already filling his nose that he didn’t sense it intensify just a fraction until it was too late, and he’d laved his tongue over the graze.

It all happened too fast, then.

You were mid-moan when you felt an excruciating pain where his tongue had just been, the noise catching in your throat with a sudden choke. Your fingers naturally tightened in his hair, and your nails dug into the cold flesh of his back as a scream travelled its way through your ribcage and you couldn’t help but let it out. Your back arched and your muscles constricted, but Terzo’s hips never stopped and now that he’d got a taste of you – a real taste – he growled a visceral growl that you felt rumble in the pit of your stomach.

If he thought you’d tasted good between your legs, this was the most intensely delicious thing he’d ever had the pleasure of tasting. Such pure, untainted blood coated his tongue, dribbling down your neck as he ravished it. He’d known this was dangerous, that one bite would bind him to you for eternity after the first whiff of your scent when you moved in. But now that he’d tasted you, he couldn’t for the life of him remember why he’d fought so hard to stave off.

“T-Terzo, you-“ you tried to stop him, remembering how pained he’d looked when he explained why he really couldn’t do this, but it truly was too late. All it took was one drop. He cut you off with a hand clamping over your jaw, his other holding your hip in place with bruising force.

His hips never stopped, every sensation he felt only pushing him to fuck into you harder like a rabid monster. In that moment, that was exactly what he was. In that first split-second, he frightened you. You saw the side of him he’d tried so hard to hide, and coupled with the pain in your neck, your body flooded with adrenaline – which of course, only added to the sublime taste of your blood.

But like he had promised, the venom acted fast. The pain ebbed away into nothing but a sensation of being prodded and sucked at. Still you held onto him tightly, unable to deny that this was possible one of the most intimate feelings you’d ever felt, and the pleasure started to stack up.

Even to a point, where the rush of blood through the two puncture wounds in your neck became a pleasurable experience. You’d have trouble explaining just how, but it felt unbelievable, like a massage that tickled and sent endorphins flooding your mind. Little did you know, that was also the venom coursing through your body. But it didn’t matter, because coupled with Terzo’s cock thrusting against your g-spot it was the most glorious feeling in the entire world.

As you barrelled closer to a second orgasm, Terzo ripped his fangs from your neck and looked down at you beneath him. He had a look in his eye that was so predatory that you knew immediately you belonged to him now, whether you liked it or not. As luck would have it, you did like it; very much. That obsessive look, that ownership turned you on to a point that had you squealing for him beneath his hand.

Quickly, you reached your peak for a second time, holding him so tightly you thought that maybe even you would draw blood with your nails in his back. Just as that second burst of pleasure coursed through you, Terzo reattached himself to your neck, drinking in the newly sweetened blood that a rush of hormones created for him. If you could imagine the most expensive, and decadent wine you had ever tasted, it wouldn’t hold a candle to the taste of your blood to him right now.

Suddenly he lurched back again, this time removing his hands from your body and holding himself up, only to dive in and sink his fangs into the swell of your breast as it bounced with the force of each of his trusts. Again, you were met with pain the flooded your body but mixed with the high of your orgasm, you could only scream in pleasure. He drank from you again, kneading at your other breast as he too hurtled towards an orgasm.

The pain subsided quickly thanks to another dose of his venom, but he continued to drink from you, prolonging your euphoria just long enough for him to finally and violently reach his own high.

He erupted inside you, his head throwing back as he growled and lost his rhythm, pounding sloppily into you with each twitch of his cock. In your post-orgasm haze, you witnessed the look of bliss on his face, seeing for the first time the distinct red that coated his lips and dripped from his fangs down to his chin. He looked manic, but holy shit it was intensely erotic.

With the small amount of strength left in you, you sat up just enough to push your lips to his. You don’t know why you did it, or even that you had until you could taste the metallic twang of iron on your tongue. Terzo collapsed into you, wrapping his arms around you as he rolled to the side, taking you along with him. With the mess he created of your core, he slipped from inside you, now simply intent on holding you close while he processed that you were kissing him, despite being tainted with your blood. But it grounded him, and slowly, his orgasm subsided and his mind cleared of its fog.

Your kiss came to a natural end, the pair of you exhausted, and without a word you lay yourself on his chest, not bothering to wipe away the smears of blood around your own mouth as you caught your breath.

“I’m so sorry…” he whimpered, pulling you tighter against him and obscuring your view of his face so you wouldn’t have to witness the shame that settled there. You didn’t have the energy to speak, instead hoping that the circling of your thumb over the cool skin of his chest was enough comfort for now to show him you didn’t mind, that you’d wanted that as much as he had.

You let some time pass, calming yourselves down in each other’s arms. His grip on you lessened as the minutes passed, and eventually, you were able to look up at his face. To your shock and heartbreak, you noticed his cheeks were wet with something other than blood – Terzo was crying.

“Hey…” you soothed, shuffling further up the bed to hover above him. He covered his face with his hand, hiding himself but you pulled it away, cupping his cheek and swiping at the tear tracks. “No, no no… Stop this, it’s okay.”

“Mi dispiace tantissimo, (I’m so sorry,)” he cried, “I hurt you. I did the one thing I should never have done…”

“Shhh,” you hushed him like a newborn who couldn’t sleep, “I wanted that, remember? I told you you could.”

“You don’t understand, I… I have bound myself to you, and now, when you leave… it will devastate me,” he sobbed, staring straight up at the canopy of the large bed, unable to look you in the eye.

“What makes you think I will leave?” you asked him gently, still gently swiping his fresh tears away whilst fighting your own.

“Amore mio, I have lost everybody I have ever cared about,” he told you, finally looking you in the eye. “I have either outlived them, or watched as they turned their back on me. And now I have selfishly bound myself to you, knowing that I cannot ever let you go.”

His admission broke your heart. You certainly had no intention of going anywhere, the bond you now shared with him feeling strangely cemented and more intimate than any you’d had with another. But in the end, time would come for you just as it had the rest of his family, lying under the earth of your own back garden.

“How does someone… become like you?” you asked tentatively, absentmindedly, playing with the chest hair the covered his pecks.

Terzo’s brow creased in confusion. “Why would you ask such a thing? I couldn’t condemn you to a life like this…” After all he’d been through; the killings, loss, isolation, and even the exile he’d faced decades ago when the townspeople discovered what he was… He couldn’t put you in a position like that. He didn’t want you to become part of the dark legend of the Emeritus house, another spooky story passed from generation to generation to tell around campfires for years to come.

“Just tell me, how?” you pressed. He sighed, laying his head back on the pillow and staring back up at the canopy.

“You would need to drink the blood of my kind,” he stated simply, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “I could not ask that of you. The process is not an easy one, and to become like me is to be condemned to a life of heartache.”

You thought for a moment, acknowledging his concerns but deciding that whilst that had been his experience, it didn’t need to be yours. Not with him beside you – neither of you would need to be lonely ever again.

“I’m so sorry you’ve felt that heartache, but I believe that the two of us together could avoid that.”

He raised his head to look at you again, examining your face for a moment while he contemplated what some kind of future might look like with you.

“Perhaps not yet, I understand. But Terzo, I will prove that I intend on going nowhere. And when you feel like you might be ready to trust that, I’ll be waiting,” you promised him, cupping his jaw and stroking your thumb gently over his cheek. “Until then, I can be your very own personal supply, hm?” you smiled, “You won’t need to take a life, so long as you have me little and often, right?”

“You… would do that? For me?” his eyebrows creased together in question, truly in disbelief you would offer him such a thing.

“Mhm,” you nodded, “I mean as long as every time feels as incredible as that,” you giggled. “And besides, you’ll get a decent meal at least once a month,” you joked, lightening the mood a little with a cheeky smirk.

Terzo rolled his eyes with a laugh that vibrated his chest beneath you. He shook his head at the absurdity of your offer, no matter how technically practical that sort of arrangement would actually be to a man of his kind.

“Oh, amore… sei davvero una tentatrice (you really are a temptress)…” he grinned, leaning up to capture your lips in a sweet, blood-stained kiss.

A/N: Huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading! If you'd like to leave me a tip, you can do so here.

If you'd like to read any of my other works, you can find them here.

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angellayercake · 2 months ago

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Oh well @sakuraspoke if you insist on me rambling about Terzo who am I to refuse? ☺️

We know from some interview snippets about him that by the time he becomes papa he is bitter and he hates himself and he is somewhat of a recluse which is clearly a massive contradiction to the caring, entertaining, silly, sexy charmer we see on stage. That man seems a lot more in keeping with the description we see from Bishop Necropolitus Cracoviensis who describes Terzo during his time as a Cardinal. As being a visionary who cares for his flock and revels in sin.

So how did he get here and how does that relate to this song?

I think we can all agree that his hopes for what he would achieve during his reign as Papa were squashed very quickly. He clearly put up a fight and was starting to gain momentum by the end where perhaps he thought it might be possible (hence why he was dragged off stage, humiliated and murdered) but we can see that nothing really went to plan and this is what probably sent him down the spiral of depression and self hatred.

But to bring it all back to 'We'll never have sex'. He created a very specific persona that was very likable and charming and I have no doubt that those are aspects of his personality and he had no lack of partners within the Ministry and without. But they ONLY wanted the Charming Papa™ and when his darker side would reveal itself, his self loathing and dissatisfaction they would run for the hills, if they even stayed long enough to see it. Because he is Papa right? Sex god leader of the Satanic Church, champion of the female orgasm, he is above wanting to be loved or cared for.

He is lonely, depressed, hopeless and desperate for some connection. So he keeps up the facade, keeps accepting the one night stands and casual propositions just to stave off the loneliness for a night or two until he just can't anymore. He closes himself off and comes to terms with the fact that no one will ever want just him.

This is all my standard headcanon for him in general and most of my fics unless otherwise stated but this also leads specifically into banchetto so I will put that under a read more in case anyone doesn't care about that bit 😁

This is basically where he is emotionally at the beginning of Banchetto underneath the hurt about his removal from his position and his brothers interference etc.

So why does he do what he does to poor reader? Well I think personally he has forgotten how to relate to people romantically other than sex. He hasn't had a traditional 'relationship' for many many years probably since he was a very young man and first learned about falling in love and heartbreak.

When he realises that reader is attracted to him he also finds her a distraction from wallowing in his depression and even though he had grown to hate no strings sex he falls back on that easy seduction to give him that taste of connection he craves. That is until he realises how much he hurt her by playing with her and that's when he realises

1. He may have found someone who really does care for HIM not what they can get from Papa. She has seen him at his worst. Complete rock bottom and still she cares?

2. He is beginning to care for her too. He looks forward to seeing her everyday and the light she brings into his life. He wakes up earlier so he can be up as soon as she arrives and he wracks his brains for question after question so he can justify following her around as she works. It's only when she disappears for that week after he cornered her that he realises this though.

And this is why they are taking it so slowly (aside from the fact she really does have a job to do which he tends to forget and at this point has completely forgotten). She has picked up on the fact that this is unfamiliar territory for him and really there is no need to rush right? What could possibly bring their happy little domestic bubble to be popped??? 😈

On that note I will leave it there. If you have got this far I love you 😚😚

#terzo #headcanon #the band ghost #papa iii #papa emeritus iii #banchetto #a little bit #Spotify

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ghostchems · 1 year ago

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infernal - terzo x f!reader - part one

art by the lovely @stainedlilac

author’s note: been cooking this one up for sometime. about 4k words. 18+! mdni! ao3 link. this will be a looooong one. if you like it, PLEASE tell me omg. tell me in the tags or send me a message please and thanks.

~~~~

Terzo is serving a death sentence.

It isn’t like he had much of a choice.

He remembers the game night clearly. The typical arguments and accusations of cheating had subsided and it was a rare moment of fun and relaxation with his brothers.

The next thing he remembers is waking up on a gurney and gasping for air. They told him his brothers were dead. They told him they had removed his head for a photoshoot and then reattached it again. They gave him a choice: die now or take their money and never speak to them again.

Terzo lives in solitude. The mansion he was put up in is large with enough rooms to fill all of the stories of his time at the clergy, which already feels like a lifetime ago. But it is just him. Only him. He spends his days in the quiet, stewing in his bitterness of how his reign came to an end and how the clergy had pushed him aside. The longer he is alone, the more angry he becomes.

What is he supposed to do now?

They left him with nothing. Nothing besides money, which feels like the ultimate insult.

He lets his own home fall into disrepair. Trinkets and memorabilia from his past life pile up around him until he is forced to shove it all into one room to get it out of his sight. His days are filled with nothingness. He doesn’t know who he is anymore or what he’s meant to do. The purpose he had spent his life preparing for had been ripped from him.

He doesn’t pay his bills on time so on more than one occasion, his power is shut off or he doesn’t have warm water. He eats cereal out of collection plates that bear the name of his old band. He is never completely dressed and doesn’t shower or clean himself for days on end.

What is the point?

One day, there is a knock at the door. An unfamiliar feeling of dread washes over him, anxiety bubbling up in his stomach as he creeps to the window. Terzo sighs deeply once he realizes there is no one at the door. He shuffles outside and stares at a brown envelope on his doorstep. The speed at which he snatches the envelope and slams the door behind him almost makes him dizzy. He manages to steady himself back at the window, his eyes narrowing as he looks to see if anyone is watching.

Terzo tears through the envelope. What he sees sends red hot anger coursing through his veins. It’s a magazine and on the cover of it is his bloodied, severed head. He nearly rips it apart. The sight of his own father standing behind Copia, the little rat that sniveled his way to the top —

He exhales sharply out of his nose as his eyes fall to his severed head and he runs his fingers across the cover. This was all he ever was to his father and to the clergy leadership: a prop. A puppet to push out to the masses and parrot the word they approved of and the second he had any thoughts or ideas of his own, they threw him away.

Terzo tosses the magazine on a nearby console and storms into his study, his fingers brushing through his wild hair. He can’t live like this; he can’t. It’s tearing him apart inside, twisting him into a withering husk of a person. He needs to make a change and he knows it.

He needs a new toy to play with.

He picks his head up, his eyes flickering to the closed double doors to the dining room. His life’s work is piled up and discarded there, filling him with a combined sense of longing and anger.

Terzo needs everything gone.

***

You stare at the ad on your computer screen. It seems too good to be true. It must be too good to be true. You’ve never been a personal assistant before but it clearly states “no experience necessary for applicants”. Your fingers drift over the mousepad to the apply button. It couldn’t hurt to at least try, right? The worst that could happen is you get denied or never hear back but that is par for the course with job hunting anyway. You click apply and fill out your information, submitting the form after uploading your resume.

You are sick of your current job working at a call center. Sure, it pays the bills but you haven’t gotten a raise in the two years that you’ve been there and your expenses have gone up. The fact that you struggle to make ends meet even with a roommate makes you spiral at least once a week. Not to mention that the job itself is soul-sucking, draining you of all positive energy so that once you are done working for the day you typically go right to bed.

You need a change.

You don’t want to get your hopes up but it’s hard not to fantasize about what you could do if you are able to secure the assistant job. The idea of having spending money to buy takeout instead of living off cereal, oatmeal and ramen is getting you excited. Or maybe, as a personal assistant, your boss will feed you each day so you’ll be able to save money on groceries. The bar is so low for improving your day to day life.

The thought brings an important revelation to the forefront of your mind: you didn’t know much about who the person requesting an assistant. You pull up the job posting again and read over the description. The only information it gives is in the title line of the posting (which you completely missed when applying): Personal Assistant to Golden Bachelor.

“Golden bachelor?” You say to no one at all as you google the term. You didn’t think people referred to themselves as “bachelors” anymore in this day and age. Well, it makes sense that a rich, lonely man would need an assistant to help him run his life - he’s probably always had assistants and can’t function without one. You’re not one to usually judge but when it comes to rich people they are fair game.

You close your laptop and roll over on your bed, grabbing your comforter to cocoon yourself in. Exhaustion grips your body and the weight of the comforter starts to soothe you off into an unfortunately restless sleep. Not that you aren’t used to it.

***

Terzo is unimpressed with the applicants so far, despite the fact that it very clearly says “no experience needed” in the post he made. Also, the fact that there are so many applicants and he has to go through each individual application and read about these people and their silly jobs.

Ugh. Boring.

His leg bounces as skims through the applications on his laptop in the dim light of his study, reading glasses perched low on his nose. His study is practically empty besides his antique desk and chair that seemed to have come with the house. There are plenty of built-in bookshelves and cabinets lining the walls but they are all empty and full of dust. The walls are a dark blue that look black in the evening light with hardwood floors that creak with every step.

Terzo gives a sigh and removes his glasses, sitting back in his chair with a huff. This isn’t as easy as he thought it would be. He was expecting the first applicant to be a hit but when that person had nothing particularly interesting in their resume, he was feeling defeated. And then the same would happen with each of the other at least fifty he’s gone through by now. He wished he had an assistant to go through these but… well, then what kind of paradox would we be in, then?

He reaches into the pocket of his plush, purple robe for his pack of cigarettes, opens it and then brings it to his lips. Terzo presses a finger to the tip of the cigarette and it immediately lights, taking a deep, long drag of it. Coming back from the dead had its perks, especially because of whatever dark magic the clergy had used to do it. He still isn’t sure exactly what he is capable of but he figured this little trick out when he nearly almost set fire to the entire house while trying to open the curtains in the sitting room.

Terzo is already halfway through the cigarette, his eyes glazing over as he zones out while facing his computer. A notification pops up accompanied by a little “ding” to indicate a new applicant. He groans and rubs his eyes behind his glasses, taking another deep drag of his cigarette.

“Un altro.” Terzo grumbles to himself. One more and then he’ll have a drink before slipping into unconsciousness, potentially on the couch in the sitting room where he spends at least half his nights. He leans forward in his seat, eyes fixed on your application after pulling it up. His tongue darts and licks his painted lips.

Your resume and application oozes desperation, so much so that he can almost taste it. The message introducing yourself is sweet, to the point and the most promising he’s seen thus far. A low growl rumbles through his chest as he copies your name and pastes it into google. He clicks the first Facebook profile to come up with your name, which may or may not be you. There’s no information on the profile other than a pixel-y profile photo of what resembles a young woman. Terzo stares at the photo for some time as he finishes off his cigarette, placing it into a golden ashtray that is almost completely full of ashes.

“Il mio topolino.” He purrs and opens a new window to reply to you, offering windows of availability for an interview.

***

It’s been days and you’re starting to think the whole thing was a scam from the start. Every time you send him when you’re available and can make it to an interview, that date and time comes and goes, and he sends a follow up asking for another time. You’re on the verge of giving up, of letting go of the fantasy of making a considerable amount of money with the potential for perks.

That is, until there is finally a window of opportunity for the both of you. You almost turn it down at this point from being jerked around so much but the pay is just too good to pass up. You make sure to tell a few friends the address and the time of your interview so that they’ll know exactly where you are in case this is a scam and you are about to be abducted. He even follows up with you the morning of, telling you that he is looking forward to the interview so it seems like it is happening.

It takes you some time to settle on an outfit which ends up being a pair of navy blue slacks, white blouse and a pair of flats, and you put your hair up into a neat ponytail. You look at yourself in the mirror and decide that you look professional enough.

The drive to his house is silent, by design so that you keep your focus on the interview. You’re not familiar with the area he is located in even though it is in your town. There is an old gate at the front of his driveway that is open and probably not functional judging from the state it’s in. The driveway is long and rocky, and the further you travel down it the more uneasy you feel. The house comes into view and you have half a mind to turn the car around.

It’s massive. Most of the windows are dark, complimenting the dark color scheme of the house exterior. It looks haunted. You stare at it through the dashboard window of your car, nervousness creeping up your chest. Your eyes fall to the clock in your car and it reads ten minutes until the scheduled interview time. A shaky breath falls from your lips.

To be early is to be on time.

The walk to the front door feels like an eternity and it’s hard to fight the feeling that the house is somehow watching you. The closer you get, you realize that the siding is a dark hunter green with black shingles which really contributes to the overall spookiness of the Victorian mansion. You reach the front door and take a moment to smooth out your outfit and adjust your backpack on your shoulders. Your lungs fill with air and you lift your hand to knock — but the door swings open before you have a chance to do so.

You are met with a pair of haunting, mismatched eyes.

He doesn’t look the way you imagined. His hair is messy, sticking up in most places with some of it falling into his face. He is wearing a plush purple robe over what looks like a dress shirt and he is in a pair of black slippers. You can’t tell if he is wearing any kind of pants. What stands out the most is his painted face, sharp black paint cutting into his cheek bones and around his eyes. Despite the rest of his appearance, the paint is crisp. His eyes look weary as they look you up and down, just as you had done to him.

“You are here for the assistant job.”

A statement, not a question and a very thick italian accent.

You blink at him a few times and then hold out your hand. “Yes, sir. I have my resume here for you to review and—“

“You’re hired.” His expression is still tired and he turns away from you. “Begin cataloging and packaging my memorabilia.” He waves his hand and starts to trudge away from you.

“U-uh, shouldn’t you show me around first or something?”

Terzo spins on his heel back in your direction and starts to walk toward you. The closer he gets to you, the more you can see the wrinkles that had been obscured with his paint. His bright, white eye sparkles in the low light. You tuck your folder against your chest, a blank expression across your face. He looms over you and his eyes drift over your shoulder before he points behind. You turn your body slowly, looking to the double doors.

“In there – the dining room. That is where the memorabilia is.”

His breath tickles the side of your neck and it gives you goosebumps. You can only bring yourself to nod slowly, trying to think of the salary that was promised in the ad and then step toward the doors. He watches you for a moment before slinking away. You hear him leave and a sense of relief washes over you as you open one of the double doors.

The dining room is a complete mess. There are half filled boxes everywhere, different fabrics and strange items littered across the floor. The dining table is covered in piles and piles of books. You close the door behind you and immediately start to think through a plan of attack. It was already after lunch so you only had a few hours to get started. This is not what you were expecting but then again, the amount you were getting paid made it worth it.

From what you could tell from rummaging through his things, he had been in some sort of spooky music group. There are posters with concert dates, ticket stubs and several different books full of photographs of him and masked men performing on stage. You think that it makes perfect sense given everything you’ve observed from him so far, especially his dramatic paint. Still, there is something darker about him - something that chills you when you think about it.

Your thoughts run wild. In the photos, he looks regal like he is some kind of prince, commanding the attention of the crowd. There are photos of women swooning, of him holding people’s hands and kissing the back of them while their faces light up. He seemed immensely popular from the size of the crowds and the interactions you’ve been able to see from rummagining.

What happened? Did he retire? Did the band fizzle out? He didn’t seem all that old… You wonder why he is here, in this home in your town. It doesn’t seem like a place for someone of his profession or status. You carefully start to organize the tour memorabilia on the table, trying to keep like items together before diving back into another box on the floor.

Terzo isn’t too far away, in fact he is right outside of the door for most of the time you’re working in the dining room. After every little noise he presses his ear to the door, listening to your movement. The feeling of excitement starts to warm his body up, his skin tingling as he starts to think up how he wants to play with you. It takes all of his self control not to burst in the room and scare you, just to see the look on your face.

Oh, he wants to mess with you. He wants to see your smooth skin turn pink, to make you squeak and stutter just by lingering a bit too close to you. Terzo stifles a groan at the thought and presses his head against the door. Unbeknownst to you, you are his little mouse to chase, to tease, to bring some liveliness back to his boring life. He can’t help but scratch his nails against the door and gives another soft groan at the thought of someone giving him attention again.

He wants you now but he knows he must wait. He has to bide his time, he has to slowly draw you into him until nothing else matters to you. There’s movement from the dining room and Terzo quickly takes a step back from the door, but the sound fades and he’s left in silence. A deep sigh falls from his lips as his mind turns back to you. Even from just meeting you, he can tell that you are going to be perfect for him to prey on.

Terzo slips out of the sitting room.

You hear something from behind the door but when you lower the box onto the table quietly, it’s gone. A shiver runs down your spine. Even with being completely alone in the dining room you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched. Maybe it’s an effect of this old house - maybe it’s haunted. You shake your head, figuring you are being a little bit too influenced by the prayer candles and spirit boards you’ve been sorting through.

Your fingers pull at the flaps of the box, the last one from the floor for you to go through. Once it’s open, you sink to your seat and stare at the contents.

Condoms. Condoms with his face on them. Condoms that say “Popestar” and “Missionary Man”. You pick one up from the box and turn it over a few times in your hand, your mouth agape.

“You haven’t gotten much done, eh?”

His voice makes you jump, the condom wrapper you have been examining flinging from your hand. He watches it fall to the ground before settling his gaze back on you, a darkly amused look on his face. He must have crept in from the kitchen.

“I-I mean I just started.” You struggle to put a sentence together as you are distracted by his mismatched eyes. “Actually, I haven’t technically accepted the position yet.”

“Oh? So you don’t need the job?” The venom in his voice makes your skin crawl.

“No, no, I do — I do need the job.” There is a sick kind of satisfaction oozing from his annoyed expression. “I am just going to need to have the job offer in writing, including pay.” You almost whisper but you keep your eyes locked on his. You need that money. His lips curl into a smirk and he nods.

“I’ll have it for you tomorrow, topolina.” Terzo purrs as he leans against the table. Your eyes drift and you notice the now unbuttoned dress shirt giving way to his hairy chest. He leans down, his robe coming completely open, and picks the condom up off the floor and tosses it back on the table. “You will be back tomorrow, si?”

“Y-yes, sir.” You realize you don’t even know what you’re supposed to call him yet.

“Ah, bene.” His eyes sparkle of mischief and he hovers just next to you for a moment, looming over you. The tension rises in the room and you can feel your chest start to tighten. Terzo gives a soft growl, then exits the dining room, his long robe trailing behind him. You rest your head in your hands and exhale slowly. You make a decision here and now: you’ll stick with this job until the first paycheck and then you’ll figure out whether the obvious red flags are worth the pay.

As you gather up your things, you decide to leave a copy of your resume there, just in case he wants to review it. You sling your backpack over your shoulder and grab your phone, heading out of the dining room but something stops you midstep. The distant sound of him singing fills your ears. You can’t tell what the song is but he sounds incredible. Your eyes flicker over the mountains of memorabilia as you finally get your feet moving.

He finishes singing as soon as you’ve stepped outside of the house, hovering by one of his bedroom windows to watch you get into your car. A growl rumbles up from his throat and he can’t help but run his fingers down his chest but stops just short of his briefs. He exhales slowly — he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself but the arousal he feels just from you perceiving him is too much for him to handle.

Terzo had forgotten what it felt like not to be alone.

He thinks about you on your knees in front of him, singing his praises, telling him how good he is before tugging at his waistband. His hand snakes down to palm himself through his briefs with a soft moan and starts to make his way to his bed. Terzo sits on the edge of it, his cock straining against the fabric of his briefs, the tip of it poking through the slit. He pushes them down and frees himself, his hard cock resting on his stomach.

Terzo thinks about you begging to taste him, begging for him to use you however he wants. His cock jumps and he takes it in his hand, lazily stroking it as growls rumble in his throat. He leans back on to the bed, his legs still dangling off the side. He could have anyone he wanted when he was Papa. People would beg him to take them to bed, to get a taste of Papa Emeritus. At the time, he felt a deep loneliness and self-loathing despite the attention or perhaps because of the attention, but he hardly ever turned it down. There was always the one moment he thought that they were there because of him, because of who he was and not because of the title he held, and that moment made it feel okay.

Terzo would take that over the loneliness he feels now.

His eyes fall shut, his lips part as soft moans fill the room. He strokes his cock more vigorously now, his thumb swiping over the tip every few strokes. He thinks of you behaving like the other siblings and ghouls that had wanted him so very badly. On your knees still, begging for your communion. You would open your mouth for him and stick out your tongue, ready to receive.

“Oh, cazzo.” He squeezes his eyes shut and gives a thundering moan as he finishes, thick ropes of cum landing on his chest and dress shirt. Terzo pants and lets his hand rest on his stomach, his chest rising and falling while his eyes drift back to the window.

He can’t wait to see you again tomorrow.

#papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo #terzo x reader #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfics

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you-know-honey · 1 year ago

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Sᥕᥱᥲrιᥒg Bᥱforᥱ thᥱ Aᥣtᥲr

Swiss x gn!reader

Sumary: Jealousy comes to Swiss, he doubts his beloved, how can you show him your love?

Word Count: 3340

Note: Bad English, I planned this while listening to a song in my language and watching an edit of Vapor (cosplayer) and I can only say that I could only think Swiss. Gender neutral (let me know I missed something on this)

Swiss was still grumbling as he placed some candles in the endless candlesticks on the ceiling, his tail wagging causing the sound of a whipping in the air. He was annoyed. Something was wrong with him. He kept walking around the chapel ceiling putting candles. That job was silly, he knew why Pope Terzo had put him to do something so ridiculous. To take him away from you, to keep stealing your precious time.

Ever since Terzo had returned from one of his trips he had taken you as his favorite Sister of Sin, always requesting your presence even for silly things like accompanying him for a walk in the gardens with the excuse of helping him pick some flowers for the Sunday Black Mass.

Swiss understood that it was your job and that you couldn't refuse, although you didn't take those orders with displeasure, on the contrary you seemed very happy to do them. That was what bothered him, the tender smile with which you nodded to all of Terzo's stupid requests reminded him of the same smile you used to give him. He didn't think of Terzo as someone deserving of that smile.

Sometimes he had even barged into your room in the middle of the night to ask you for things. Even though he could ask a ghoul. Once Swiss even spent 15 minutes under your bed when he almost caught them having an intimate moment. I could feel Terzo's burning gaze on you when he found you in that nice lingerie that night.

Always trying to touch your hands, your shoulders or your waist, Terzo always managed to touch some part of your body or to hold you close to his body. But you wouldn't move away, you seemed so happy to receive that touch from him.

He never left you alone with Swiss, as soon as Terzo saw you near Swiss he would steal you away from him and that drove Swiss crazy.

"I am a Pope, I have power over everyone, even you. If she chooses to have me by her side you won't be able to stop her. She is human and you are a demon, it makes sense that at the end of this game she chooses me." Was what Terzo replied when Swiss tried to stop this behavior of his with you.

He clenched his knuckles and jaw and backed away.

Then, in that state of annoyance, he met you in a desolate hallway. You had had some free time and decided to seek him out to spend some of your scarce time together.

The Swiss was so intent on mentally ranting at Terzo. He bristled like a cat when he heard your voice echoing down the hallway.

"Hello" your tone was kind and sweet, as it had always been with him. He kept his head down, just listening to the sound of your boot heels on the floor.

A gust of air blew in through the huge window and carried your scent into Swiss's nostrils who instantly grimaced in disgust.

"You stink." He replied curtly, you were surprised that he spoke to you that way, even he himself was surprised.

"What?" you asked innocently. In truth you had no idea what he was talking about, you didn't think he was referring to your sweat which was definitely not strong enough to stink. Still you felt embarrassed.

"You stink like him" your puzzled face annoyed him and he let out a fugly smile as he shook his head "So he's been close enough to you to mark you with his disgusting scent"

"What are you talking about?" you walked cautiously, slowly approaching Swiss, frowning, you didn't like where he wanted to take this conversation.

Even though you didn't know what he was talking about, it scared you to see him like this. He had never been so rude to you before. You were tired of course and annoyed by all the extra work Terzo was putting on your shoulders, but you wouldn't join in an argument with Swiss.

"I'm not stupid you know? That's Terzo's disgusting smell. You've been with him so long and so close that…you reek of him" Swiss' tail snapped in the air with a whipping sound and dodged your hands when they tried to cup his cheeks.

"It's my job Swiss-" you tried to move back closer to him but he grabbed your wrists and pushed your hands against your chest. That annoyed you more than his words had. If there was one thing you hated, it was being scorned.

"I know!" he shouted and he himself was surprised, he finally looked into your eyes and you could see them crystallize "But you have to make him so happy? you obey what he says like a lapdog! You just do what he wants. I can't believe you don't realize that he only wants from you the same thing he gets from all the other Sisters of Sin" He wasn't even able to look you in the face when he said that.

Now you understood, this was a stupid jealousy scene. You massaged your temples hoping it would bring down your annoyance but it didn't happen.

"And what do you expect me to do? To refuse or worse, to do it reluctantly? He is a Pope! His wishes are literally my orders! I thought you understood that! You are a demon at his service after all…I don't expect you to understand, I've worked hard to get here." You felt sick right away, the kind of anxiety that turns your stomach until you throw up. You didn't want to yell at him. "I don't expect you to understand, you can go back to hell anytime you want, but this" you pointed to everything around you. "It's where I belong."

"Y/N…" he was silent for a while "I just want to be able to be with you without him having to show up at the door every 10 minutes. You seem so happy with him, you smile at him like you smile at me! I thought it was something special…that I was special to you" Swiss was getting out all those insecurities that had started to eat him alive since you and Terzo became so close "Why do you do that? Why do you let him get so close to you?!"

You took a long sigh and began to try to clear your mind, searching for the right words. Avoiding his gaze as much as you could. You were hurt by what he was insinuating, as if you agreed with all those approaches. That kind of distrust hurt you.

"I'll see you later. You already said too much anyway Swiss." This time he was the one who tried to approach you, you raised your hands so he wouldn't touch you. It was the first time you felt you didn't want him to touch you, you weren't in the mood to argue or to listen to more things like that, you just weren't ready to promise that if you opened your mouth again you wouldn't explode in him all your tiredness and frustration over the days of having to be always alert to keep Terzo at bay but happy.

You dodged out of the hallway as fast as you could. If you stayed another minute it would be a disaster.

You were completely surprised by the way he acted, you expected something like that if you were dating Sodo, you expected more from Swiss, he was always kind and sweet, he had never acted like that when you were in the service of the rest of the Popes. Your heart shrank a little with disappointment. A lapdog?' That's how he thought of you? It broke your heart that he saw you as a servant or even worse that you were perhaps enthralled with Terzo's constant flirting. It killed you to think that he distrusted you, even though you had never given him reason to think so.

"Quite a job…I thought it was the earth ghoul that took care of this" said one Sister as she wiped her sweat with the back of her hand. They had been busy with gardening chores for hours.

"The demons deserve a break too, Laurie," you told her as you filled a basket with white tulips, red carnations, and a few stamonium flowers. It had been a request from Sister Imperator for that night's Black Mass. Laurie looked at you with a raised eyebrow, she wasn't surprised that you treated them humanely anyway, you were already known among the other Sisters of Sin for that.

"As you say but I really hate the earth, although the flowers are pretty." she tried to take a stamonium flower from your basket but you pushed it away in time.

"They're poisonous flowers." you pointed out as you took off your gloves and leaned against one of the greenhouse walls. You sighed again.

As much as you tried to forget the argument between you and Swiss every time you thought about it your stomach churned, you were not able to go back inside the abbey, you didn't feel able to see him again without crying. You were not upset with him, when you thought about it with a cool head, he was just jealous, if a girl had been as close to Swiss as Terzo was to you you would have been upset too.

He was a demon and jealousy is a very human feeling that he wasn't used to, he didn't know how to respond to that overwhelming emotion.

But now things were tense and you were afraid that you might have made a bad decision to leave him alone in the hallway. This was his first fight about it and it certainly wasn't like you had much experience in relationships with handsome supernatural beings.

"Why are you sighing so much?" asked Laurie brushing the dirt off her knees.

"It's nothing, I'm just tired" you pretended to yawn to take weight off your sad expression.

"Then go and get those flowers to the altar before they dry and go to sleep." You nodded, maybe sleep would help a little, it wasn't a bad idea.

"Not a bad idea Laurie" you took the basket in your hands and cleaned your habit to carry the flowers to the main chapel.

The walk was silent, you could hear the leaves crunching under your feet as you walked. Maybe praying could help you to clear your mind.

Swiss walked along the wall and returned to the floor. Placing the last Syrians on the altar table, he just wanted to go to bed, forget that horrible day and go on with you as if nothing had happened. Resiviendo your beautiful smile and know that it would only be his.

"What if he stopped loving me?" he asked the Lucifer figure behind the altar. "Give me a sign please, that I haven't lost it…"

The afternoon sun illuminated the chapel beautifully, the large windows made the whole place look magical and ethereal. Something that motivated Swiss to keep talking to the figure, he wasn't sure if Lucifer also listened to demons but he would like the help. When they had started to leave Mountain warned him of something that although he already knew he preferred to ignore 'The hearts of mortals change, ours never will' he didn't want to think that your heart was now in conflict between him and Terzo.

After all, the Pope was right, Swiss was just a demon in the service of someone, Terzo was the Pope, leader of the demons, he could hand you the world on a silver platter if you wanted him to. Swiss could not offer you that, he would always be tied to the ministry, he would pass from generation to generation as part of the furniture. It made sense that your heart would change…NO…I didn't want to think about that.

"Swiss?" your voice echoed throughout the room until it reached his ears. His tail tensed and he turned quickly to look at you. He hadn't noticed when you arrived.

You were standing in the doorway with the basket of flowers in your hands, watching him carefully. Everything was so tense. You wanted to run as fast as you could away but you couldn't give him that pleasure, besides it wouldn't be very mature of you to do something like that.

"What are you doing here?" asked Swiss, the words came out of his mouth defensively, thinking the worst in his pessimistic spiral, you could break up with him at any moment.

"Just bringing the flowers" you clarified showing the basket in your hands.

"Sure…" He was nervous, you could see it in his eyes. You wanted to laugh but your own nervousness prevented you.

You nodded at his words and began to form small bouquets to leave in the vases arranged throughout the temple, moving as far away as possible from the altar where Swiss was doing the same. You glanced sidelong in their direction and as soon as they made the slightest eye contact you pulled away startled.

This was becoming untenable for both of you.

You walked back to the door to assemble the largest and most fabulous bouquet, the one that would be placed on the altar, under the huge figure of Lucifer.

You spent more time on it than on the other bouquets, nervous. Swiss just couldn't take it anymore, walked to the front of the altar, and taking a lot of courage, called your name.

"Y/N!" his tone was clear even though you could tell how nervous he was.

You turned around clenching the bouquet in your hands tightly, dropping a few petals on the floor.

"Yeah?" you replied holding your breath in your chest.

Swiss took on a more confident and solemn attitude, perhaps being in front of the altar and being bathed in the evening light gave him more courage. He had to get the idea out of his mind, he wanted to be able to run and hug you. But first he had to solve this problem.

"Do you love?" he asked you "Is there someone you love in your heart?" he asked you, you opened your mouth instinctively but nothing came out of it.

"Yes" you answered confidently "I love someone" you saw his chest swell as he held even more air into his lungs.

"Is there a possibility that your love has changed from person?" he asked, her voice trembling, fearing the answer.

"That's impossible." You didn't know where he was going with that but a nervous chuckle from you made you look up from the floor. Feeling your gaze on his eyes melted him inside, responding to your gaze with a hopeful smile. But he needed to know the full extent of that idea in his mind.

"The person you love…is it Terzo?" he felt silly for asking but he couldn't bear the thought of even imagining you with him again. He knew that if your answer wasn't what he expected he would cry right then and there. You didn't answer "That's right, then-" he was quickly interrupted by you.

"NO. I don't love Papa Terzo. My love belongs to someone much more special and much less jigolo. You. The multi-ghoul Swiss." You stepped forward with confidence in your walk and your words. The orange and whitish light bathed your habit and what little hair it revealed.

Swiss dodged your gaze. I wanted to believe you but I really needed a little more, a little push to jump over that wall of insecurities and run to you.

"Swiss…" you said taking another step towards him. You wanted to reassure him so your smile was still there for him and your eyes dilated more as you saw every detail of his face and body, totally enraptured.

"Look into my eyes Y/N" he let the air out of his lungs and looked at you with hope, with the excited eyes of an infant but with the fear of the lie of a lover "And say…I love you".

You took a step forward, still clinging to the flowers "I love you" you said confidently and the echo in the walls repeated your words.

"Okey" Swiss ducked his head to one of the windows, still not wanting to see you "Now I'm not believing that, at this point. So say it again." he folded his hands to keep you from seeing them tremble.

"I love you" you took another step. Closer and closer to him, but you would show him that you loved him in any way he wanted.

At the words he seemed to shudder, the wall of his insecurity began to weaken and hints of a smile tantalized his face.

"Again" he murmured, looking at you at last, waiting for you in front of the altar.

"I love you" you said again, moving a little closer to him with excitement in your gait.

His hands went nervously behind his back and your expression became more solemn "Again".

Another step closer "I love you" this time the words were honeyed, in an intense way.

"Again" Swiss sighed feeling his will fall.

"I love you" There it was again, the right tone to make him simply want to kneel before you and praise you like a god. Another step closer, you were so close, just a few steps.

"Again" the words came like a gasp out of Swiss' mouth.

"I love you" you said and the sound of your heel on the first step echoed in the air along with the sound of your laughter.

Swiss wiggled his leg nervously and looked down at the floor like a shy puppy "Again" he begged.

"I love you" you said. Almost close enough to put your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating wildly, feeling him sigh as he felt your touch on him. "Do you love me Swiss?" this time it was you who asked, you knew the answer.

"Madly." Swiss' arms were released from his back and hugged you tightly, clinging to your body like life itself, sinking his face into the hollow of your neck, kissing and breathing in your scent. "Please…" he pleaded "promise his heart won't change."

You laughed and it drove Swiss away with some fear.

You caressed his hand and intertwined it with your own, pointing to the altar behind him, leading him to that altar, leaving the flowers on the marble table and cradling Swiss' cheek in the palm of your right hand, stroking his trimmed beard, he was totally bewildered.

"Can I swear to you before an altar of my sincere love" you said.

Swiss sighed, amazed by the words from your mouth but even more so by how your essence completely enveloped him in an enormous fog of love. "I can tell everyone that I love you" Swiss caressed your cheek with his hand, you caressed it like a cat happy with his touch, he approached you, your face, touching your lips with his "Your lips I was taught to feel what tenderness is." Finally you joined your lips with his, butterflies began to gather inside your stomach and flooded your brain, no honey would be so sweet, no wine would be so intoxicating and no spell would be so Lovely like that kiss, the way his lips kissed yours, tasting you, wanting you, praising you with tender desperation.

"I will never tire of being blessed with your sweetness…" Swiss pulled away enough to murmur sweet words against your ear, making your body goosebumps. He smiled. No one but him would be able to love and idolize you until he made you feel like the goddess you were in his eyes.

His heart would never change, nor his mind or his body. He would be the most devoted parishioner to you, to your love, to your existence.

Link to the Vapor tik tok that inspired me CLICK HERE

#the band ghost #nameless ghost #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #papa terzo #swiss x reader #swiss ghost #jutty taylor #ghost band #ghost the band #ghost #ghost band fanfic

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kidstemplatte · 1 year ago

Text

shattered

pairing: terzo/reader

summary: terzo’s addiction struggles have been worsening and you decide you cannot remain silent.

warnings: alcohol, drugs, terzo is an absolute asshole in this. message at the end. this fic is very heavy. stay safe

part 2: here

Ever since Terzo separated from his position as Papa, he hadn’t been the same. After Papa left, Terzo did too.

It started with drinking. But recently, it had been more. You didn’t explicitly know what else he had been using, but it wasn’t just alcohol. You began noticing shifts in his behavior. At first, he started staying out later. Then, his typically charismatic self and contagious energy were dulled down. Then, he could bring himself to do nothing but sit on the couch and drink himself to death.

“Terzo, we need to talk.” You looked into his eyes. They were red and drained of life. He said nothing. “Terzo.”

“What is it?” he snapped back, tone short.

You took a deep breath in and out.

“You have a problem, Terzo.” You said, voice shaking as you fought to stand your ground.

“I have enough problems as is right now. I don’t need you to come in and create more. Enough of this, please. I’m fine.”

“Terzo, you resigned from your position. You made a choice. One you were happy with. So we could focus on our future, and more importantly, yours. If you’re really okay with it, why are you acting like this? What’s going on in your head?” you gently questioned, taking a seat next to him on the couch.

“Don’t try to psycho analyze me, you’ll go places you don’t want to.” He said, downing the rest of the drink in his hand.

“You have so many things to be grateful for, so many people who love you. I love you. What’s missing? What’s missing, Terzo? If you tell me, we can fix it. What can I do?” you desperately pleaded.

“I’m not your fucking patient, Y/N. I’m fine. If you want to go help someone so you can feel better about yourself go find somebody else, somebody else who’s not tired of your complaining.” He snapped.

You took a deep breath in. His words cut deep, but you knew he was not in a clear state of mind. With caution you attempted to continue the conversation with maturity and compassion, but it was harder than you wanted it to be.

“Terzo, I’m not helping you to help anyone but you. In fact, it’s not helping me at all. I’m tired, Terzo. And I know you are too. So please, will you just talk to me?” you said, softly placing your hand on his shoulder.

“Like you’re the caretaker here. Like I don’t sit and listen to you weeping about whatever problem you’ve thrown yourself into.” He snarked, swatting your hand away from him. Something he had never done.

Where did he go?

Where did Terzo go?

“Terzo…” you choked, voice quivering as your eyes began to water.

“Oh great. Here come the tears.” Terzo scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“You’re hurting my feelings.” you winced, pathetically but honestly.

“It doesn’t take much for you to get your feelings hurt.” He replied.

He wasn’t wrong. But still, the truth hurts, as you had already been reminded of several times during your conversation.

“You’ll regret this in the morning.” you warned him.

“I won’t even remember.”

The thought of Terzo not even remembering his words that would scar you forever, remaining permanently engrained in the deepest crevices of your mind, made your head spin and your heart shatter. Even when Terzo was heavily intoxicated, he couldn’t handle the sound of your crying. However, this time, his discomfort with it was not due to compassion or sympathy, but annoyance.

“If I fuck you, will you stop crying?” he said, suddenly.

“What?” you responded.

“Is that what you want?”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s when I like you best, anyway.”

“Please just stop, Terzo.”

“You didn’t stop earlier when I asked. You know, every time I put up with your shit and listen to you cry about feeling annoying, like you’re a burden, it’s never good enough. Never good enough for you. It’s like you want me to say you’re a burden. So I’ll do it. You’re a fucking nuisance, (Y/N). There you go. Happy?” He growled.

And with just a few words, your lover had confirmed the very fear that kept you up at night. The gnawing fear that your presence, your words, your actions, and your love were all things that weighed upon others rather than lifted them up. That you were a chore to be around, people whispering, “Thank Satan she’s gone.” as you exited a room. The idea that the world would be better off without you, because you were a waste of time, space, and air.

And suddenly, the tears came to a halt. The pain you felt in your body became motivation, drawing you to some objective you weren’t quite certain of yet.

“Yes.” you responded, voice not breaking, rather staying quite still. Terzo liked that answer apparently, as he was not riled up enough to clap back at you.

You headed off to your bedroom, determined to find the source of the problem. You meticulously checked all the drawers in your dresser and nightstand, under the bed, in the closet, terrified you would never find his supply.

Until you remembered earlier that day, Terzo groggily asked you if you had seen his Satanic Bible which typically stood on the bookshelf. He claimed he lost it the night before, a suspicious claim considering he would only need it for mass. Later you stumbled upon it laying outside for whatever reason, and placed it back in its spot on the bookshelf.

You then knew where to search.

Terzo did not even look your way as you began to exit the quarters, purposefully ignoring you as he heard the sound of your footsteps grow fainter and fainter. On your way out, you stealthily slipped the treasured book from the bookshelf by the front door as well as his car keys.

After turning on the engine to his jet black Cadillac, you took a deep breath and stared at the Bible in hand. You shook it, and your suspicions were confirmed when you heard contents rattling inside. You couldn’t open it. Not now. As you drove his car through the neighborhood and onto the nearest highway, you found yourself at a lake you and Terzo used to frequently visit. Where you shared secrets that you didn’t dare to tell anyone else and stole kisses from each other that flustered you so much you often found yourself staring at the glimmering body of water instead of into his eyes.

But in the darkness of the night, its glimmer was gone.

You braced yourself to open the makeshift Bible.

One, two, three.

The weed you’d expected. Engaged in at times. And you weren’t shocked by the other substances either, though they pained you deeply. Blue pills you couldn’t identify. Prescription bottles with names on it not belonging to him. Bags of white powder that made your jaw drop and your heart sink.

For a moment you debated driving the car straight into the lake. But the car didn’t deserve that, and neither did you. The drugs did. Before you could even fully process the contents of the book, you threw it into the water and let out an ear-splitting scream you didn’t even know you were capable of.

The drive home was a rough one. The tears in your eyes made the lights of the cars in front of you blur together, leading you to pull other and take a break, forehead resting on your arms crossed over the steering wheel as you let out agonizing sobs.

After arriving home, you nearly screamed when you opened the door to your quarters and were faced with Terzo standing just a few feet in front of you like a maddened man, waiting for who knows how long.

“What did you do?” he said, his cold stare sending a shiver down your spine.

The glimmer in his eyes was missing.

He was gone.

Terzo was gone.

“I threw it away.” you replied, not breaking eye contact.

“Where?”

You said nothing. You weren’t going to tell him they were in the lake. You wouldn’t be shocked if he tried to swim to the bottom of it and sunk in the process.

He didn’t have time to quarrel with you. Instead, he stormed off and began scavenging your quarters like some kind of feral animal, throwing things onto the floor and breaking things in the process.

You did nothing to stop him. You were too tired. Instead, you threw yourself onto the couch. Laying down, shutting your eyes, and wondering what in the world went so painfully wrong that your relationship had resorted to this. You listened to his ruckus and tried to drown it out with the ringing in your ears. One particularly loud slam startled you, causing your eyes to jolt open. Through tears, you caught sight of your final opponent: A large marble counter, on which rested countless bottles of alcohol, mostly for display or social events until as of recently, when you watched the content of each bottle lessen and lessen.

Just as you shot up to complete your objective, bolting across the room, you heard Terzo’s voice from behind you.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” he warned you, causing you to turn and face him as you stood in front of the counter.

Terzo, step by step, grew increasingly closer to you. You were terrified, your heart pounding so intensely you thought it might burst out of your chest.

“Don’t- don’t touch me!” you yelled, grabbing a large glass bottle from behind you and holding it out as a makeshift self defense tool.

He stopped, the glimmer in his eyes returning for just a moment. He would never hurt you. Not physically, at least, even when he was out of his own mind. His tone of voice and body language suddenly shifted.

“Nonononono, cara, amore mio, listen, cara, please don’t- whatever I said earlier- tesoro, please stop. Please don’t. Please don’t do this. I love you. I love you, cara.” He pleaded pathetically.

You wanted to cave in to the “I love you”s that you had been craving for so long. But you couldn’t.

“This ends now!” You yelled, punctuating your sentence by throwing the bottle in your hand to your side. You swiftly turned around, and with one quick motion, swept every bottle that was on the counter onto the hardwood floor, with crashes so loud you thought your ears might bleed.

For a second, you thought he was going to lick the liquor off the floor like a deprived dog. But instead, he knelt to the ground, and just laid there. He laid beside the shards of glass, tears escaping his tired eyes as he began to softly weep.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” he cried, spewing out apologies like prayers.

You never said “It’s okay.” Because it wasn’t.

He messed up. He did. Nothing could take back or minimize what he said to you on that night. But what you did say and repeat over and over again was “I love you”, the only truth of the night that didn’t hurt.

You laid on the cold, hard floor with him. You laid on the ground with him while he cried, stroking his hair and rubbing his back, barely able to look into his eyes.

“Get up, Terzo.”

“What?”

“You need to go to bed.”

“Okay.” he obeyed, pulling himself off the ground and stumbling to your bedroom with your assistance.

After you made sure there were no shards of glass on him, you tucked him into bed. For a moment you wondered if this was the first time someone had done that for him. You decided you couldn’t think about that right now.

As you stood up and left your room, you heard Terzo mutter,

“You… where are you going?”

“I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Oh. Okay.” he said, barely above a whisper.

Did he even remember what happened just moments ago?

The next morning, Terzo woke up with a crippling headache and churning stomach, and by muscle memory, rolled over to his side and reached his arms out to hold you. To his dismay, you weren’t there.

What happened?

He didn’t remember.

You wished you didn’t.

└──────┘

ughhhh😭😭😭😭😭😭

this was PAINFUL to write.

if you’re here from my other stories know that this is not connected to violetta’s story, it is simply a seperate fic. i want to make a part two to heal the wound in my heart from this. in this story it does get better for the reader and terzo.

if you’re reading this i want you to know it’s okay to reach out for help, not only because of addiction, but any unhealthy behavior or thoughts that are hurting you. there are people around you (including me) that love you and want to help.

thank you so much for reading, please stay safe❤️

<3, alice

#the band ghost #ghost band #ghost #papa emeritus iii #terzo #papa emeritus #papa terzo #papa emeritus x reader #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader

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blueghoul · 1 year ago

Text

Just Hold Me

Pairing: Papa Emeritus III/Reader, Papa Emeritus III/Female Reader

Tags: Soft Terzo, fluff, depression, loneliness

Your bad days have caused you to feel more lonely without your Papa than usual. He’s been so busy, but what’s a little downtime? You need your Papa.

Read it here if you’d like.

You’ve been feeling lonely, more so than usual. All you’ve been doing is laying on the sofa or in your bed, not having much of a want to get up. The ghouls come check on you, but it doesn’t cure the loneliness. You need your Papa, he’s been so busy the last few days, you’ve barely seen him.

Tonight, tonight you couldn’t help it anymore. Your loneliness wasn’t getting any better, it made your depression worse and you needed your Papa. You change into your t-shirt and shorts you sleep in and you walk out your bedroom to his quarters.

With a shaky breathe, you knock softly on his door. It’s late in the evening, you see a dim glow under the door, seems like he’s still at his desk. You hear him call out, “Come, it’s open.”

You fumble with the knob for a second, opening the door slowly to announce your presence, he immediately jumps up when he sees you. His smile falters when he notices your state, the gloomy look in your eyes.

“Oh, mi amore, what is wrong?” Terzo walks over to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, cupping your cheeks.

“Papa… I-I,” you stumble over your words, choking back the frustrated tears. “I’ve been… lonely, my bad days have been clouding over me, and I need you Papa. You’ve been so busy, I hardly see you.”

“I am never too busy for you,” he pulls you into a tight hug, “I wish I would have known, amore.”

That hug was the tipping point, you couldn’t hold it back any longer. “It’s not your fault, you didn’t know.”

“What can I do to help?” He looks to you, mismatched eyes studying your face with such worry.

“Just hold me.”

Terzo nods, tightly hugging you again. With a grunt, he scoops you up into his arms and carries you over to his bedroom, gently placing you in his bed. Giving you another kiss on the forehead, you groan at the loss of contact, tears still flooding your vision as you reach out your hands for him to come back.

“No, no, I am not leaving you. I am going change and you will stay here with me until these bad days go away, si?”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

A few minutes later, he comes back. Grabbing the tv remote and turning all the lights out, he gets into the bed with you and holds out his arm for you to lay on him. You scoot over to put your head on his chest, his arm wrapping around you tightly. You look up to him, using his other hand he takes your chin and kisses you. Caressing your cheek, he softly smiles, his bare face looking handsome in the dim light.

“No need to thank me, that’s what I’m here for, tesoro,” he assures you, giving you another kiss.

You snuggle back into his chest, tangling your legs with his. You soon fall asleep to the beat of his heart; he wasn’t far behind.

#vent post #please be gentle #the band ghost #papa emeritus iii #terzo #ghost bc #terzo x female reader #papa terzo #terzo fanfiction #papa emeritus iii x female reader #papa emeritus iii fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #the band ghost fanfiction

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im-queen-of-the-black-forest · 1 year ago

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Submitted for your approval; Even more of The Nameless Ghouls as unhinged quotes from my friends (or me).

Dew: Do you know what a cuck is? no? Then you won’t get the joke.

Cirrus: *trying to stay calm as the rest of the ghouls go FERAL* Not my circus not my monkeys, Not my circus not my monkeys, Not my circus not my- fuck this literally IS my circus and these ARE MY MONKEYS

Aether: NO! BAD! LEAVE THE SQUIRRELS ALONE!!

Sunny: *hugging Copia’s head to her chest* DONT YOU TALK TO ME OR MY SON EVER AGAIN

Copia: I am DEFINITELY older than you

Swiss:*playing a game that Dew recommended* Uhh Dew? Why am I on a rocket train?!

Aurora: *very muffled from down the hallway* THERE IS ONLY ONE U IN BLUETOOTH YOU FUCKING WALNUT

Phantom: How many points is “thug” worth?

Aurora: What do you even know about thugs?

Phantom: Absolutely nothing, question still stands

Cumulus: *playing Mario Cart against Swiss* *to the tune of the Chicken Dance* Badadadadadada Badadadadadada Badadadadadada *throws blue shell* GET FUCKIN REKT

Rain: *after trauma dumping on Sunny* You haven’t said anything, do you think I’m a bad person?

Sunny: no! I’m just an emotionally stunted potato.

Mountain: *trying on a pair of women’s jeans, to Cirrus* why are there STITCHES if there aren’t POCKETS?! What kind of monster puts fake pockets on things?! Where am I supposed to put all the weird things I find in the woods?!

And more Papas!

Copia: This week has been shit. My mental state is in the toilet and I’m not sure if I want to preemptively call off tomorrow and just fuck this week. I need to extract my brain and scrub it

Secondo: Sir this is a Wendy’s

Secondo: I just drove to four different fucking Wawa’s to get a fucking burrito after a shitty day and one place is out of tortillas, one is out of barbacoa and the other two are out of rice

I’m going to SCREAM.

Primo: LEE PACE IS 6’5 AND BUILT HE IS NOT A TWINK!

Terzo: 15 years since I met Mary in computer class and they brought me to sit with their usual lunch crowd *scoots to sit next to Copia* and there was someone hunched at the end of the lunch table, reading a book and studiously ignoring me. *places a hand on Copia’s head* and then I slowly turned you into an insane person!

Nihil: *whispering to Seestor* I don’t think he’s a registered nurse, he keeps slapping me and screaming.

Sister: *looks at the nurse who is definitely Dew in platform shoes and a terrible fake mustache* he looks trustworthy

#ghost band #shitghosting #incorrect ghost quotes #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #rain ghoul #sunshine ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #aurora ghoulette #phantom ghoul #papa terzo #papa secondo #papa nihil #papa primo #sister imperator #Birdie: Ace Reporter

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littlerainyghoul · 9 months ago

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Little thing that's been brewing in my head~~

Accidentally calling the Papas "Dada" while regressed - headcannons

Safe for work interactions only please :3

Primo

- will be confused at first, but will smile as he realises you're regressed.

- "would you like to go to the garden with me?"

- he takes your hand as he leads you to the green house, and makes you a cup of tea.

- he teaches you about the plants and the birds around the bird house.

Secondo

- Says he's not good with children, however after realising your regressed state he helps you with whatever chores you have to do for the day

- has a tough exterior but is actually a massive softie, and it shows while you're regressed. He puts you on his lap while he works.

- "you're actually quite cute"

Terzo

- Will start cracking jokes as he realised you're regressed. Not making fun of you, just trying to make you laugh.

- Surprised at the fact that you called him Dada, but he likes it.

- "Look! I have a hole in my shoe! Funny, eh?"

Copia

- "My Sweet, did you just call me Dada?"

- Pulls you to his chest and lets you rest on his shoulder.

- "Do you want to see my rattinos?" He says as soon as he realises you're regressed.

#regressed ghouls #agere #eepy #ghost band agere #safe for work age regression #papa primo #primo #papa secondo #secondo #papa terzo #terzo #papa copia #copia #soft parent thoughts

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anamelessfool · 1 year ago

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WIP WHENEVER

Thank you @kissingghouls for the tag!!!! I tried to pick something a little unique for this challenge...

VISITATION (From 'Domestics')

(family, humor, self-indulgent fluff, Dad Secondo)

2013: Papa Emeritus Terzo, Copia, and Nihil visit their estranged brother Secondo after the birth of his youngest child.

I have this whole ficlet series similar to Bestiary but based on small domestic moments in the lives of the brothers and the characters in my AU. Why? Because it's fun and ridiculously self-indulgent.

I love me a good flashback....

⛧⛧⛧

“Which way am I turning here?” Copia asked.

“Left,” muttered Terzo.

“Left...”

“Right.”

“Oh, Right then?”

“Yes, left is right!” Terzo paused then groaned. “Left is correct.”

“Marian couldn't come?” Terzo asked Copia idly. He smirked. “Hope your leash is long enough.”

Copia frowned. “At some point I wil fly out of this car, yes, jerked back by the leash, your Unholiness,” he replied flatly. “But ah… I'm into that.” Two hours in the car with Terzo gave one plenty of time to practice talking trash. “We should have arrived twenty minutes ago.”

Terzo shifted in the passenger seat. Car rides made him sick, and therefore extra irritable. He glanced in the rearview mirror at Nihil in the back. Nihil was staring ahead, expressionless, his eyes dull like a mesmerized cow. “We would have made time if we didn't stop back there.”

“Terzo, the old man barely asks for anything these days,” Copia said firmly. “So when he asked to stop and buy a balloon for his new grandson I um…had to indulge him.”

“Isn't this thing just brand new? A little ball that sleeps and cries? Why—why does it need a fucking balloon?”

“That thing… is your nephew,” Copia said, and he squeezed the steering wheel. “Have you ever taken care of anything small and helpless like that? You'd understand.”

Terzo muttered something in Italian and dropped his head against the door, staring out the window. Copia assumed if he wasn't so carsick he would really put on a pissy show for them all.

“We’re nearly there,” Copia said, slowing to an agonizing stop at the intersection, looking carefully right and left, waiting the appropriate three seconds at the stop sign, and then continuing on.

[They pull up to a plain suburban house.]

The door opened, Secundo towered over them all, his dark intense presence unmarred by his years away. The former Papa Emeritus II of the Satanic Church of the Void was now wearing a checkered button-down shirt and dark khakis. His grip on his cane tightened as his shark-like gaze flicked from guest to guest. Four Infernal Eyes regarded each other on the porch. Secundo's pitted face moved slightly. “Shoes. Off.” He shifted back, granting them entry.

They were led inside to a sunken foyer. Beyond a small railing was an ordinary living room with a beige carpet. There were halls nearby leading to kitchen, basement and bedrooms. All with as few stairs as possible made it easier for Secundo to easily walk around in his current state. His time as Channel of the Void left him permanently weak in his left side, but they all knew it could have been much worse.

Copia was struck by how unbelievably ordinary the place was. There was an unusual number of crammed bookshelves and a piano near the window, but other than that there was very little evidence of this being the home of a former leader of The Satanic Church of the Void. A single taxidermied goat head loomed over the television that displayed a muted cartoon program. Two small children sat near it in the center of a pile of wooden blocks.

Copia pulled his own shoes off, then knelt to help Nihil out of his. “It's nice to see you again, Secundo.”

Secundo never dropped his intensity and simply changed the words he spoke. “Yes, it is, Copia. Welcome.”

“Is that…is that little Paul?!” Copia nearly squealed as he pointed towards the little face peering from between the metal railings. The boy Paul had a shock of messy dark hair and a wild look that was all too familiar. “He's a small version of Terzo! Look!”

“That had been my unfortunate impression as well,” Secundo replied flatly.

Terzo gave them all a painfully polite smile, then joked. “Not to worry, I had nothing to do with it.”

Nihil’s head whipped from Paul to Terzo. “Yes, definitely our little scamp! An even smaller Terzo, heh!” Both grandson and son threw him identical scowls.

“Do you remember us?” Copia asked Paul. The boy cocked his head, thinking. He was born at the Ministry but the whole family left by the time he was five. “I remember we took out my old trike and you were pedaling up and down the hallways…”

“I distinctly remember you pedaling up and down the hallways on his tricycle,” Secundo said with an amused smirk.

“Just that once! To teach him!” Copia shot back.

[They settle into the collection of couches and proceed to observe the newborn.]

“Nihil, would you—” Sandra frowned. The old man had fallen asleep in the recliner within the past five minutes. She chuckled. “Well then, we will try later! How about you, Terzo?”

Terzo furrowed his brow. “No, certainly not. No thank you, sorella.”

Secundo looked quietly invested from his place on the opposite couch. “He'll reconsider later.”

My AO3 Series | My FicList

Tagging @katyaoaksdottir @fishwithtitz and @thew0man and you, yes YOU!

#ghost fandom #ghost scenes from the void #ao3 author #ao3 fanfic #WIP whenever project #fluff fic #ghost band headcanons #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus iii #cardinal copia #dad secondo

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cowboyemeritus · 2 years ago

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My Bloody Valentine (Papa II/Reader)

Secondo has earned this. Obviously, he does these things because he loves you, but moments like this one are always an added bonus. (18+)

Read on AO3

Just gonna put a small cw for blood because PMS hit me like a train and inspired me to write a Secondo period sex ficlet for Valentine's Day (even though it is now the 15th... Don't worry about it...)

Despite his reputation, Secondo knows how to turn on the romance when necessary. He’s pulled out all the stops tonight: roses, nice wine, and a box of your favorite chocolates (even though they’re the cheap kind from the drugstore). It’s right in that sweet spot between the Emeritus urge to be Extra and your preference for more laid-back endeavors.

Secondo has earned this. Obviously, he does these things because he loves you, but moments like this one are always an added bonus. He’s got you on his bed, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks into you ravenously. Though he’s only just bottomed out, you’re already crying out for more, nails digging ever so slightly into his back. The foreplay had been rushed, the both of you far too impatient to delay the main event any longer. But fortunately, in your current state, neither of you were too concerned about lubrication. Secondo, ever his mother’s son, was worried about the bedsheets, however, and had slid a fluffy black towel under you just before sinking into your wet heat.

With a little coaxing over the course of the night, he had managed to turn the cramping in your abdomen into throbbing desire. He’ll admit, he was more than a little excited when you grumbled about getting your period on Valentine’s Day, but can you blame him? How else was he, Mr. Body and Blood himself, supposed to react? The way your bloodied cunt squelches with every thrust is a gift in an of itself (although he sincerely appreciates the lovely dinner you made for him). If he had his way, he’d be devouring more than just a rare steak this evening, but after being his beloved for so long, he knows your limits without even having to ask.

“Fuck, Papa,” you mewl. “I- oh!” A sob wrenches itself out of your throat when the head of his cock hits that one spot inside you just right. You already sound and feel dangerously close, and with all the hormones coursing through your body, Secondo reckons he could have you cumming for him all night if he wanted to. Perhaps you could even hit a new record.

“Yes, uccellina?” He asks, voice low and husky. “Go on, tell your Papa how you feel.”

You nod frantically, but the moment you try to get a word out, Secondo starts hammering himself into that patch of spongy flesh. The way your walls squeeze around him, combined with the slight metallic smell in the air, has that coil of energy growing just a bit tighter inside of him. Your wail is piercing - you always get a little louder after a few glasses of wine - and Secondo can’t help but feel a little smug. The walls in this old abbey are thin, and Terzo is just down the hall, sick in bed with a particularly nasty case of the flu. Even in full health, he’s a light sleeper. Let the bastard hear, he thinks. He knows what he’s missing.

“I feel- ah!” At this rate, you’re going to scream your throat raw. You take a hard gulp of air before speaking again. “You- oh- Papa, you’re gonna make me cum. Please, let me, please.”

When you beg like that, how can Secondo possibly refuse? Straightening out, he reaches a hand down to rub at your clit with his thumb. Gathering your slick, he looks to where the two of you are connected and shudders. The desperate rutting has caused your menses to spread across both yours and his thighs, your skin sticking together with each thrust. His cock is absolutely covered in it, and the sight is like a punch in the gut, flinging him exponentially closer to his release.

“Amore mio,” he rumbles, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. There’s no resisting you like this. For as tough as Secondo likes to act in front of the congregation and his brothers, you are an entirely different beast. “Vieni per me, con me.”

Stroking your clit in time with each thrust, it doesn’t take long for Secondo to have you falling over the edge. You throw your head back as your orgasm hits, pulling his body flush with yours. The way your cunt spasms has him coming undone as well, spilling into you with a groan. Time stands still as you catch your breath in each other’s arms, Secondo careful to not put his full weight on you.

“I love you, baby,” you finally manage to pant out. He hums in response, rolling off of you and laying down by your side. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” You run your fingers through the drying red slick on your thigh and make a face before wiping it off on the towel. The entire display, both of you so debauched and covered in your blood, makes his softening cock begin to stir again.

“E ti amo anch’io, mia cara.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead. You giggle and return the gesture, sighing contentedly.

“That oughta make things better for… I don’t know, maybe thirty minutes?” You place a hand over your womb, still basking in the afterglow of your orgasm and the relief it brings. Secondo can’t help but smile. It’s tender, something only you can pull out of him. He reaches over to cup your cheek.

“You know,” he says, a flicker of deviance in his glare. “If you hate it that much…” He places his hand over yours. “I can always make it go away for longer.” Before you can burst out laughing, he’s smothering you with his mouth, fingertips wandering downward to reignite the fire in you both.

Oh yeah, Secondo has definitely earned this.

#my writing #the band ghost x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #again im sorry this is late but i have i good excuse (i saw pride and prejudice for the first time)#ficlets

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catboy-joyfriend · 2 years ago

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Ok here's a big fuckign post of me talking about the Papas' ages cuz of that one interview and cuz Ghost lore is confusing as hell lol.

So it was said that Primo was 80 and Secondo was 50, idk when that interview was from but I'm assuming it was during Secondo's era so for ease in this post I'm gonna assume it was 2013.

If Primo was 80 when Opus Eponymous came out that means he was born in 1930. Secondo would be 50 in 2013 meaning he would have been born in 1963 with Terzo being born 3 months later presumably also in 1963.

When they died in 2018 that would put Primo at 88 and Secondo and Terzo at approximately 55. Sister Imperator was early in her pregnancy in September of 1969 so Copia would be born around April or May of 1970, making him 48 in 2018 and currently 52.

Assuming Nihil had Primo when he was at least 16-18, that would put him at 106-108 in 2020 when he died. Sister Imperator is definitely not as old as Nihil, and only needs to be old enough to have given birth to Copia so I'm going to put her vaguely in her 80s, making her somewhere around her 30s in 1969 while Nihil would have been about 55 (and he very much didn't look it!!)

This is just what I've gathered, Ghost lore is super vague so I'm not necessarily stating all of this as fact it's just my own view !! ^^

#the band ghost #ghost bc #papa nihil #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #primo emeritus #primo ghost #secondo emeritus #secondo ghost #terzo ghost #terzo emeritus #cardinal copia #sister imperator

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theratboyking · 1 year ago

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Softly Into The Night

Chapter Six: I'll Worship Like A Dog

Pairing: Cardinal Copia/Reader/Papa Emeritus iii (this will also have eventual Copia/Terzo but that won't be for a while)(This is also a slow burn so it's gonna be a while until we even get here)

Word Count: 11.1K

Summary: Demons are real, angels exist, and my father is the Prince of Darkness. A dream I can’t seem to wake up from. And two mysterious strangers that seem to have a connection to me. What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter summary: It’s not like the ritual was that difficult. All I had to do was go up, speak a few phrases, put on a bit of a show, and then I would be done. It was simple, really. I just wasn’t 100% convinced I was ready to do this. While I have gained more control over my powers, this was completely different than doing it in front of Secondo, hell it's utterly different from practicing with Terzo and Copia.

Warnings: This chapter contains smut, MDI!!! 18+ (this is going to get be a wild ride folks,) Slow burn, Idiots in love, kinda soulmates? poorly translated Italian (I am sorry to all the Italians out there) fluff, angst, this is a ghost fic so you know religious trauma, some chapters will like get kinda deep in the religious philosophy but maybe not depending on the direction this goes, eventual smut (Chapter will be labeled)

Ao3 Link

<-Previous Next->

The golden light of the leaves flickering against the sunlight caught my attention. The large window of my hiding space did little to help my anxious mind. The bells ring out as the siblings all pile out of the halls of the Abbey, littering the courtyard. There was excitement in the air. The Abbey was buzzing. Halloween night was rapidly approaching. The siblings were rushing to prepare for tonight's excitement.

I could feel the excitement trying to seep its way into my being. If it weren’t for my anxiety, I probably would be buzzing along with the rest of the Abbey. But, instead, here I was in my little space in the library, staring at the same yellowing pages trying to memorize this Latin for the ritual tonight. I don’t know what gave Secondo the bright idea to think I was ready to do something so important, but there was no way to get out of this—especially after Terzo practically begged me to do it.

It’s not like the ritual was that difficult. All I had to do was go up, say a few phrases, put on a bit of a show, and then I would be done. It was simple, really. I just wasn’t 100% convinced I was ready to do this. While I have gained more control over my powers, this was completely different from doing it in front of Secondo, hell it's utterly different from practicing with Terzo and Copia.

I sigh, slumping against the wall of my knock, sinking further into my coat. For late October, it was already cold here. The fire from the library's main room does little to heat up my far-off space. I shiver, bringing my attention back to the book on my lap. A frustrated groan left my lips.

I couldn’t tell you how long I’ve been staring at the same page–the same sentence. The words on the page have long since blurred together. Running my hand through my messy hair, my eyes drift to the doorway.

Pretty soon, Copia would be up here anyway. Lunch has to be soon, at least I hope it is. I’ve been up here all morning. A part of me wished I had just stayed in bed. Maybe I could have convinced the boys to stay in bed with me.

“Topolino?” Speak of the devil… “Are you up here”

He rounded the corner, stopping short of the doorway, “What’s wrong?” He takes in my disheveled state, a slight worry forming in his eyes.

“Nothing’s wrong, Copia.”

“You got that look about you.” He awkwardly gestured towards me. The faint lines of a soft smile forming on his lips and his eyes swimming in fondness and other emotions we were afraid to confront.

He finally moved out of the doorway, going over to my nook–sitting in the unoccupied space beside me. He brings my legs to his lap, rubbing soothing circles into my calf. “What’s wrong, topolino?”

“I’m going to mess this up…” It was stupid; I know it was. Suddenly the book in my lap was the most important thing in the world. I couldn't bring myself to look at him.

“You’re not going to mess this up, bella.” He squeezed my calf. The bastard had the audacity to chuckle at me.

“You’re laughing. Copia, Secondo’s gonna kill me, and you’re laughing!” I sit up straight, playfully hitting his arm. My own smile formed.

“As scary as he is when he’s mad, I highly doubt he will kill you.” He only laughs harder.

“What’s this about il mio terrificante fratello?” A familiar voice came from the stairs opening, not quite in view yet.

“You’re out early today, caro.” Copia began, “What brings you up here?

“You were taking too long.” Terzo nonchalantly said, like what he said was the most obvious thing in the world–taking long strides to where Copia and I made residence. He practically threw himself on top of my legs. Making himself at home in my lap.

“Now tell me what mio fratello did.”

Without thinking, my hands went to his hair. I could practically feel Copia’s eye roll, but no annoyance was behind it. His other hand came to rest on one of Terzo's legs.

“He didn’t do anything.” At least not yet.

“Tell us what’s wrong, tesoro.” He sighs, settling further into my lap–eyes closed, waiting patiently for me to tell them what’s got me so anxious.

“It’s stupid, really.” I try to give, knowing it did little to ease their minds.

“It’s not stupid, topolino.” Copia interjects.

“Yes, it is. I’m just overthinking everything.” I huff, “I’m just nervous, is all.”

“About tonight? il mio tesoro, you’re going to be just fine.”

“Terzo’s right. We’ve practiced a million times. Besides, Papa wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t think you were ready.”

Terzo looks up at me, his eyes swimming with mischief. “Exactly, mio fratello never delegates this kind of stuff. All you have to do is show your pretty little face, say a few words, and then we can party like there’s no tomorrow.”

I let out a laugh, my nerves calming slightly. “If you say so. Just wish we could skip the ritual and go straight to the party.”

“You and me both, Tesoro.” Terzo wiggles his eyebrows at me. Taking a deep breath before springing up, streaking his arms above his head. “Now, I am starving.”

“Si, I believe we are well-passed lunchtime,” Copia said, checking his watch. “I believe I have some leftovers back in my room.” He moved my legs so that he could stand.

“I don’t think anyone will miss us too much if we take a longer lunch.”

Copia steps in front of me, offering me his hand. “No, I don’t think they will.”

Taking his hand, rising to my feet. Casting one last glance out the window, I pause. A dark figure looking directly at me in the middle of the chaos. The siblings walked around it as if it wasn't even there. Our eyes meet, and my breath gets caught in my throat.

“Are you coming, bella?” Copia asked, noticing me staring off.

Breaking eye contact, I look toward my boys and then back outside. Just as quickly as the figure was there, it was gone. “Yeah, sorry, coming.” I was quick to shake it off; I was just exhausted from all the studying; that’s what it had to be. I let out a breath, taking Terzo's outstretched hand. Trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that was building in my stomach. It was going to be a long day.

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

The hot water from the shower did little to help my nerves. The impending realization that there was no escaping this was doing wonders on my mind.

I could say I lost track of time; it wouldn’t be the first time. That won’t work; someone will probably come looking for me. Maybe I could slip and fall; then again, did I want to face Sister Beth’s wrath? I sigh, turning the water off. There was no getting out of this. I couldn't help but think, drying myself off, wrapping the towel around my body.

I sluggishly made my way out of the bathroom, a shiver going down my spine from the chill air. I was dreading the outfit choice for the evening. Looking down at the black cloak and the white dress on my bed, I couldn't help but reconsider everything the boys told me. It looked like it was twice my size, better suited as a curtain than for my body.

Why did I let myself be dragged into this? This is the last time Terzo sweet-talked me into anything. I groan in frustration, grabbing the long white garment, and throwing it over my body. The fabric came to pool over my body, taking no actual shape.

Walking over to the mirror, I was not surprised that it looked like I threw my bed sheets over my body. It did little for my figure. It was almost comical to look at. I run my hand through my hair, the familiar shade of snow white taking over most of the color, a frustrated sigh leaving my body.

A knock on the door broke me out of my panic. Shaking out my nerves, I go to open the door. I was shocked to see Sister Imperator standing on the other side.

“Your Majesty, so glad I caught you before you left.” There was a coy smile on Sister’s lips. “I hope I didn’t catch you at the wrong time.”

“Yeah, just getting ready for tonight…” I moved my body to hide just how ridiculous I looked.

“I’m sure Papa is very proud to see how far you’ve come.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, “Do you have a moment?”

She didn’t even allow me to answer before she continued, “I heard a rumor that the relationship between you and the Cardinal, as well as Papa, has exceeded that of professional.”

“I would say we are friends…” Where was she going with this? “Why do you ask?”

“A little birdy told me they saw you leaving Papa’s room early this morning. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

I pause, taken aback by her accusation. It’s not exactly like I was hiding what was happening between the boys and me. In fact, it wasn’t exactly a secret. From what Nova had told me and what the few siblings I talked to have said it was the whole abbey had some idea as to what was going on. Many didn’t even seem to care. Why was she just now bringing this up?

“I’m sorry, Sister, but I fail to see how that is your business.” A blush rose as I tried to look anywhere that wasn't her.

“Whether you like to see it or not, everything that goes on in this ministry is my business” She paused for a moment, hands coming to gesture to the abbey around her, “And that includes what Papa and the cardinal do in their free time.”

“What exactly are you implying here, Sister?”

“I figured you should know that Papa has other duties to attend to that do not revolve around you, and that same goes for the Cardinal. Their duties to the church come first and foremost. Remember that next time, you distract them from their duties to this ministry. Have I made myself clear?” She was out for blood today.

I go to close the door, refusing to even waste my breath on her. I did not make it far before she grabbed my forearm, turning me so that I was looking at her.

“Have I made myself clear, your majesty?”

I nod my head. She lets go of my arm, walking away, leaving me in the doorway–thinking about her threats. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. I had a feeling that whatever happened tonight, it would be a night to remember.

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

The church comes to life when there are people in there. The electric chatter of the siblings bounced off the walls and hit me all at once. Nervously I look out at the stacked pews-- fidgeting with the helm of my sleeve. I felt a hand grab my shoulder–practically jumping out of my skin only to relax when I saw who it was.

“Nervous?” Primo asked, offering me a soft, reassuring smile.

“Is it that obvious.” I let out a chuckle–my hand awkwardly rubbing the back of my head.

“I remember my first ritual.” There’s a far-off look in his eyes. “I mixed up a few herbs and ended up passing out. I woke up a week and a half later to a very angry Beth; you can imagine,” What little color was left on my face vanished.

“You’re not helping, Fratello.” The even response of Secondo cut him off, coming to stand by the oldest Emeritus. I jump slightly. He really has a tendency to appear out of nowhere.

“I suppose I am, aren’t I? You have nothing to worry about, cara. From what Matteo tells me, you’ll do just fine.” Primo offers me a comforting smile.

I could practically feel Secondo's eyes roll, a soft groan leaving his lips. “He’s right, you know. You’ve been working really hard these past few months; you’ll do just fine principessa.”

I can only imagine the look of surprise that had formed. This was the most Secondo had gone out of his way to say how I was doing. “Thank you…”

“Papa… and Papa” The three of us turn to look at a slightly dressed-up Copia, “If I could steal (Y/…) eur, her majesty, for a moment.” His cheeks had a pink tint as his eyes landed on mine, relaxing slightly when he did.

“Of course, Cardinal.” Primo was quick to respond, a knowing smile on his face. “Come, fratello. diamo un po' di spazio ai piccioncini” He chuckled as he ushed Secondo away.

“Shall we?” He offers me his arm; I don’t hesitate to take it.

“Thank you for rescuing me.” I exhaled, relaxing more the further Primo and Secondo got.

“non c'è bisogno di ringraziarmi, besides you looked like you were going to throw up.” He tilts his head to the side, looking into my eyes as he teases me.

“I probably was,” I couldn’t help but chuckle. Finally taking Copia in, he was slightly more dressed up than usual; not a single piece of hair was out of place. The paint that inhabited his eyes was a deep shade of black, making his eyes stand out more. “You look good, Copia.”

“I could say the same for you, bella.” The way he said it almost made it impossible for me to argue with him.

“I look like I’m wearing bedsheets.” Throwing my head back as I laughed. “Hopefully, I can change before the party.”

“You’re already a heart stopper, bella.” Copia mutters under his breath.

“There you are,” An impatient Terzo was fast approaching, “I was beginning to think you both ran off without me.”

“And leave you to deal with all your adoring fans alone; we wouldn’t think of it.” Copia teased back.

“Adoring is one way to put it.” He raises his eyebrows, a flirtatious smile approaching his face.

I couldn’t help but take him in. His paints were done to perfection, framing his face just the right way. He wore a pair of robes I had not seen on him before. Deep purples poked out of the black and gold that lined the fabrics. In his arms was a zucchetto. He commanded the attention of everyone in the room, and he knew it, and he certainly held mine.

“I must say I’m a fan of the robes.” I chuckle.

“Why thank you, tesoro.” His Cheshire smile reached his eyes, “You look wonderful, tesoro.”

“I look ridiculous.” I huffed, “I will take you up on your idea, though. ”

“You’re going to do just fine. Remember, you’ve already done it a million times.” Copia offered, giving my arm one final reassuring squeeze. Letting go of my arm, he looked like he wanted to say something else before he was interrupted.

“Places everyone.” Sister’s booming voice echoed in the small room. Snapping everyone to attention.

I could feel my whole body come to attention, my mouth drying. The small space erupts into movement; the papas and a few of the higher-ups going to find their places. This was about to happen, and there was no way of escaping it. As if sensing my discomfort, Copia grabs my attention.

“I’ll be just a couple seats away, cara.” Copia offered, taking me in his arms before he walked to his place. Leaving just me a Terzo at the end.

“Just like we practiced?” I ask; a sheepish smile forms on my face, not quite reaching my eyes.

“Just like we practiced.” Terzo repeated back, “Are you ready?”

“No…” I grab his arm, “Just don’t let me fall, please.”

“Never,” His grip tightened around me.

The bells begin to chime, low and steady. Copia offers me one last reassuring smile before stepping down the aisle, followed by Primo and Secondo. A chant had begun in the room, getting louder the longer it went on. Soon Terzo stepped forward.

“Il padre, il filio, et lo spiritus malum” With every step I took down the aisle, the more the prayer felt directed at me, “Omnis caelestis delenda est,” It was deafening, echoing in my ears, “Anti Cristus, il filio de Sathanas.”

Time felt as if it had slowed. With every step I took up the stairs, a strange feeling I had never experienced before took over me. The nerves that had plagued me were slowly starting to ease their way out of my body. The chanting didn’t stop even as I took my place by Terzo's side; I stood tall, taking it all in.

There was a line of chairs where the family was sitting. Black with golden accents, only two remained empty. One in which I was assigned to lay empty, next to me sat Sister Imperator. Next to her was Copia, who had a slight smile on his face, giving me a small thumbs up as I passed him. On the other side were Primo and Secondo, with Nhil at the end. I took my seat, taking a shaky breath, taking in the scene before me.

There was a certain elegance to the whole thing. The few times I had been in the church during daylight hours did little justice for its beauty. The whole room was lit by hundreds of black candles, casting the room in a soft glow. The stained glass shone brightly by the moonlight, casting its story onto its followers. Terzo was taking his sweet time, enjoying the attention he was receiving. He takes his place in front of the altar. The chanting continued, the final ring of the bells lingering in the room.

Terzo lifts his hand and, all at once, silences the room. He stands tall behind the altar, an air of confidence I had not seen on him before shining through. “Brothers and sisters, I welcome you. Tonight we gather for a divine cause.” Terzo spoke with authority, opening his arms and gesturing around the room. “We gather in devotion to our dark lords. The kings of darkness, we ask for their blessings, we ask for guidance, we ask for acceptance.”

The siblings erupt into cheers, agreeing with what Terzo is saying. This was a completely different experience than how I remember church being. There was no guilt here, just people who were here for acceptance, for a place in this world.

“Tonight, we honor our lords. But more importantly, we honor ourselves. We honor those we have lost and those who have come to us this year. We ask that our Lords hear our prayers. We give our thanks for our blessings.“ He steps back, “This year, we will be doing things just a bit differently. We have a special guest who will be conducting tonight's ceremony. I present to you l'anticristo.”

I nervously make my way up to the altar. Terzo offers me a look of reassurance, leaving his hand out to help guide me to the front of the altar. “You got this.” He gives my hand one final squeeze before letting go. I’m left looking out onto the sea of blurred faces.

“Hello, everyone,” I swallow down the bile rising in my throat. “I would like to thank Papa for his words; they were very kind. I would also like to thank all of you for making me feel at home these past months. I have never felt such hospitality in my life. Now let's get to the main event.” Taking a long breath in, letting out an exasperated exhale.

‘Here goes nothing.’ Finally, I speak, “Belial petimus pro vestra benedictione, Behemoth tuam benedictionem petimus, Beelzebub petimus benedictionem tuam….” I could feel my body beginning to change, my clothes ripping slightly. Fear was starting to fester in my stomach as I looked up, expecting the siblings to look on in horror. They only look on in wonder repeating the prey back to me, “Asmodeus petimus tuam benedictionem, Satanas petimus tuam benedictionem.”

I pause for a moment, a power surging through my bones. One I have never felt before. I could feel my body rising from the ground, “Luciferum petimus pro tua benedictione!”

I could feel a pulse leave my body. A bright white light overtakes me and slowly enters the room. I could feel the siblings around me brighten, some even beginning to laugh. An overwhelming sense of joy had taken over the room. The whole room seemed to stand still, and the siblings' voices seemed to fade out. The door opened, letting out a low creak.

From The doorway, I could see the shadow of a figure. It was abnormally tall, looking from left to right of the room before its gaze landed on me. “Longum iter venisti columba mea,” A disembodied voice whispered, sounding a million miles away. “Dono tibi hanc benedictionem.”

A feeling I could not describe swelled in my chest, telling me everything would work out. Everyone was going to be safe. I could keep everyone safe. Just as quick as the sensation started, it vanished. My feet touch the ground. Stumbling, I try to regain my balance; the floor felt like spinning around me.

“Topolino?” Copia asked, moving faster than I thought possible to where I stood. All at once, I could feel my body hit the floor–knocking the air out of my lungs. I looked up to see that the door was still closed. The figure was no longer there.

There was a silence that fell over the room; all eyes were on me. I groaned, trying to get up–stumbling slightly. Terzo (when did he get here) rushed to grab my arms so I didn’t tumble back to the floor. Copia moved to my other side; they helped me to my seat.

“Amore? Are you all right?”

The others surrounded me. A rush of questions hit me, doing nothing for the headache I was beginning to nurse.

“Just peachy…” I held my head, hoping it would help with my headache. “I’m fine. Just let me finish.” I try to sand back up, only to fall back into the seat.

“You’re going to do no such thing.” Terzo puts his hand on my arm, keeping me in place.

“I have to finish this,” I say again, failing to lift myself up.

“Amore, you must sit,” Copia said, taking one of my hands. “You look like you might faint.”

“None are worried more for her majesty than I, but the ritual must go on now.” Sister broke through the worry.

“Si, fratello, please…” Terzo begins, not taking his sights off me.

“I think it should be you who finishes Papa.” Sister cuts him off.

“Watch your tone, Sister.” He warns, “Secondo is more than capable of…”

She cuts him off once again, “But he is no longer Papa, now is he?

Whispering had broken out among the siblings. “She is right, my son; someone must finish the ritual.” Nihil agreed. Terzo looked ready to protest; hell, so did the others.

“I’ll be fine, Terzo,” I reassure him, bringing my free hand to rest on his “It’s ok.” I tried to give his hand the best squeeze I could muster.

“I’ll be right back.” He squeezes my arm, eyes snapping to Copia. A salient conversation passed between them. Terzo sprang to his feet but not moving, still looking toward Copia and me.

Hesitantly, he looked away. Terzo goes back to the altar, the others following him. Copia had not moved from his space in front of me. The rest of the sermon followed his assurance to the siblings that I was alright. He rushed through the remaining verses, eager to get it over with. Copia had not moved from his spot before me, holding my hand tight–keeping me grounded. The rest of the ritual goes off without a hitch.

The siblings slowly exit the chapel, some lingering behind, hoping to glimpse the papas. Terzo didn’t hesitate, rushing over to me. Taking my face in his hands, examining me. He only paused when he looked into my eyes, a silent conversation passing between us. Once satisfied, he breaks eye contact, grabbing Copia’s shoulder.

“Ok, up we go,” Copia whispers, lifting me up. The boys led the way out of the chapel. Weaving in and out of the lingering siblings.

“I think I can walk.” I try to joke. Both men give me a hard stare stopping any actual protest from me in its tracks.

The walk back to my room was silent, Terzo leading the way as Copia carried me. His heart was racing, but it was the only thing keeping me grounded. By now, my body was beginning to change to its usual state. The dress I wore fell around me, falling apart at the seams. What had happened?

“That wasn’t exactly how we practiced.” I chuckle, trying to break the tension.

“No, I don't think that was.” Terzo chuckles slightly, trying to ease out the tension as well.

Copia’s grip on me only tightens, eyes staying forward as my room finally came into view. “You can put me down, Copia. I’m seriously fine.”

He looks at me with a look of uncertainty. Copia sets me on my feet. Stumbling trying to regain my balance, bracing myself on Terzo for a moment.

“Fine, she says.” Offering me his support.

“Haha,” I reply flatly. “I’m seriously fine. You two can go ahead, I have to change, and I’ll be right down.” I try giving my most reassuring smile.

“Are you sure, bella? We don’t mind waiting. What if you faint or something.”

“I’m not going to faint, Copia. I’ll be just fine; besides, don't you both have to change as well? It’s fine, I’m fine. Now go before I push you down there.” My light-hearted threat seemed to break.

“Alright, alright. Jeez, I almost miss when you were a timido topolino.” Terzo raises his hand is surender.

“You love meee.” I bat my eyelashes at him.

Turning to leave, he lightly grabbed slightly less convinced Copia, “

“Just call if you need anything, ok?” Copia pressed.

I relax, offering him a soft smile. “I will Scouts honor.” Throwing up three fingers and placing my hand over my heart.

“You were never in scouts.” He was quick to point out, allowing Terzo to pull him away.

“Figure of speech!” I throw over my shoulder as I let myself into my room,

I go to the mirror, taking a long look at myself. Something was happening; I could feel it in the air, hell, I could feel it in my very being. First, it was the mysterious figure, and now this. Not to mention the fact that the nightmares were getting more vivid. It was hard not to feel like something wasn’t happening.

The bells ring out, breaking me from my thoughts. I sigh, going to my closet and pulling out the dress I would wear. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change again.

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

The bright lights of the ballroom were practically blinding when I finally returned from my room. The place was already swimming in activity. Siblings and ghouls alike mingle together, enjoying the festivities. The dining room turned ballroom was decorated for the night. Candles and jack-o-lanterns filled the room, casting the room in a warm glow. Streamers and party favors lined the walls; some even hung from the ceiling. Hell, I think I can see a few of the siblings bobbing for apples.

“How are you feeling?” a newcomer's voice

The voice breaks me from my trance. Jumping, I turn to see Secondo standing behind me. He had changed out of his robes, now wearing a suit and tie, his paints still on full display, “Besides the heart attack you just gave me, I’m doing great.” I said, placing my hand over my heart

“My apologies,” He paused, his face softening ever so slightly. “You did well tonight, principessa.”

“I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Nonsense, that was all you.”

It was silent for a moment, an understanding passing between us. Our journey together was coming to an end, and I wasn’t really sure what that meant. I don’t think he did either; it was bittersweet.

Finally, I broke the silence; I would cry if I kept thinking about it. “Any plans for the evening?”

“While I’m usually the life of the party, I made a promise to a certain someone to have his night,” He groans, throwing his head over his shoulder to a rapidly approaching Terzo.

“If you will excuse me, I must be a man of my word.” He lets out a frustrated sigh, softening his features, “Go, have some fun.” He offered me a fond smile, pushing me slightly toward a waiting Terzo.

I give Secondo one last look over my shoulder, practically skipping to meet Terzo halfway. Running into his waiting arms, laughing as he spins me around.

“There she is, la mia bella dea” He couldn’t contain his laughter. “You did wonderfully tonight, Tesoro.”

A moment of silence passed between us as we took each other in. “I thought you would be up soaking in all the attention.”

“No, not tonight. Besides, we have a very important guest here with us.” He’s still looking forward, a coy smile forming on his lips. He was up to something, “I’ve been told it was her first big ritual here with us, and she was a part of the ritual tonight; perhaps you saw her?” He teases.

“Terzo.” I warn him softly, “Whatever you got planned….”

He cuts me off, “For once, I can safely say, it isn’t over the top, ti preoccupi troppo. In fact, I believe you’ll enjoy what I have planned for tonight.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. I could feel my cheeks heat up. I playfully swat at his chest–falling into our regular banter.

Copia stood waiting for us, a drink in his hand as he talked to one of the ghouls. I could vaguely see Nova's silhouette standing close to Copia, holding his attention. Copia turns to look at us, his smile doubling in size. Turning so that he was fully facing us, my steps quickened. I throw myself into his waiting arms, “Bella! Good to see you on your feet.”

“ And miss the after party? I wouldn’t dream of it.” I let out a laugh. Turning my attention to Nova. “And where have you been?”

“Who do you think had to set all of this up.” He gestured to the room around him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be my ghoul?” I tease.

“Only on special occasions.”

“Thank you, Nova. Where would I be without you.”

“Probably dead in a ditch.” His response was flat, “I was told it’s going to be a star-studded night. Papa is going to be performing tonight.”

“Secondo was in the band?” I question, turning my attention to Terzo.

“Si, he was the frontman before I took over. He doing a favor for me, hopefully he doesn’t go over board when he comes to collect on it.” He jokes, “il vecchio should be staring any minute now.”

Secondo’s booming voice entered the room as if on cue, taking everyone's attention. “Ladies and Gentlemen, are you ready to have some fun tonight!” The room erupts into cheers. “Let the party begin.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. The other ghouls are gathering with some of the other siblings in the cemetery. You guys have fun.”

Nova vanished into the growing crowd. The music swelled, taking over the space. Siblings make their way to the middle of the room. Leaving me and the boys off to the side of the room.

“May we have this dance?” Copia asks softly, hand outstretched.

I couldn’t help but giggle. “Why, of course.” I took his hand as he guided me to the dance floor. Terzo, not far behind, took my free hand into his.

The makeshift dance floor was filled with the other siblings. Even a few of the higher clergy members that had made their way to the church for the evening had taken. Secondo’s voice rang out through the space. It was hard to not be taken by the energy of the room. There was little space to move through the crowd. Settling into the crowd, our bodies began to move to the beat of the music.

It felt like all eyes were on us, but I couldn’t care. The song and dance we had been dancing to were faltering around me. We had danced plenty of times before, but this was different. There was a certain edge to every touch that graced my skin. I could feel Copia’s breath on the back of my neck, goosebumps forming across my skin. Terzo was just as close, if not closer. It was hard to tell where one started and where one ended. We couldn’t get enough of the other, each touch desperate, yet none of them were rushed.

Terzo pulled away from me, looking into my eyes. “ti am–”

“Your eminence,” An irritated voice broke the moment's hold. Breaking free of my boys, I take a few shaky steps away, my cheeks on fire and an ache forming where their touch once was. “A few of the upper clergy members from Italy want a word with you. You as well, Cardinal.”

“Can it not wait, Sister?” There was an edge to his voice, “Kinda in the middle of something here.”

“No, it’s ok. Don’t worry about it. I’ll just wait for you both to get back, ok?

“Bel-” Copia began, but I was quicker.

“It’s seriously ok. I’ll be waiting by the bar. I really need a drink.” It was mainly to myself, my heart practically beating out of my chest. Mentally punching myself for not letting them stay.

I walked off before they could protest more. Making my way to the outside of the crowded dance floor. I take refuge by the snack table. Letting the sound of Secondo’s singing distract me from the butterflies that threaten to overtake my being.

“Your Highness.” A voice suddenly crept up behind me. “Fancy running into you here.”

I turn to see a man dressed similarly to the other siblings. A suit and tie with black hair and a beard.

“I’m sorry. Have we met? “

“Oh, forgive me. Jim DeFroque.” He offers me his hand, grinning from ear to ear, “I work in the church's recruitment department.”

I hesitantly give him my hand. He brings it to his lip, placing a kiss. I give him a tight smile, becoming uncomfortable.

“What’s a beautiful thing like you doing here all alone.”

“I’m not alone. Papa and the Cardinal just got pulled away for a second.” I turn to point in the direction they disappeared, “They should be back soon.”

His gaze darkens, slightly letting out a chuckle, “Lucky me.” Jim offered me a dark smile, teeth impossibly straight. My stomach dropped, a sickening feeling settling. “May I have this dance?” It was more of a statement than a response, taking my hand that he still held and pulling me to the dance floor.

“I’m sorry, but they should be back soon. They’ll be wondering where I went” I try to ease my way out of his grasp, but he doesn’t let up. He only tightens his grip on my arm, dragging me to the dance floor. “Let go, please.”

“Come on; it’s just one dance. I’m sure Papa won't mind.”

I frown at his lack of mention of Copia. Who does this man think he is? I try to pull out of his grip, only for him to tighten it. Leaving bruises in his wake. I wanted nothing more than for this man to leave me alone. People were starting to notice the scene that was unfolding. The music stopped.

“I think Papa and the Cardinal would mind. So please let go of me; you’re hurting me.”

“No need to get defensive. It’s just a dance. Come on, let loose for a change. Don’t be so uptight.” He pulled my arm, making me lose my footing–almost crashed to the ground. His other arm came so that it was resting on my waist. We were chest to chest, and he had officially overstayed his welcome.

“I said let go of me.” I could feel my temper boiling over. Hushed whispers fell over the crowd. My skin turns the familiar shade of oxy as I try to push him away.

“Let’s not be brash here, wouldn’t want to prove everybody right.” There was pure malice in his voice. A sickening smile made its way to his lips he tried to pull me closer into his hold.

From over his shoulder, I could see Terzo and Copia fighting through the crowd Jim, and I had accumulated. Both shared a look I could only describe as pure anger. Terzo leading the way, finally breaking free from the crowd, grabbed Jim.

Without saying a single word, Terzo punched Jim square in the nose. A sickening crunch echoed in my ears. A deadly silence falls around us. Not a single soul dared to say a word. Now free from his grasp, I take a few steps back, unsure what to do, let alone say.

Copia grabs my hand and brings me close, staring into my eyes, searching for anything he can find, “Are you ok, bella?”

I stared at the scene before me. Terzo was practically seething. He looked like he was debating if he should beat him more. Copia, on the other hand, was silent in his rage. There was a fire in his eyes and his grip on me.

Terzo grabs my hand, pulling me through the crowd. From the corner of my eye, I could make out the faces of Primo and Secondo, each sharing a knowing look as I was led out of the dance hall. I could barely make out the Secondo muttering “Idiots” as we entered the hallways. The dance hall erupts into chatter as soon as we leave.

He never lets go of my hand as he drags me off to Satan where–Copia follows close behind. The walls blur together as we descend further and further down the abbey. The moon shines brightly through the window casting light and guiding us through the halls. The Corridors abandoned everyone, still enjoying the festivities despite the scene they had created.

Terzo was determined in his movements, dragging me behind him, only letting up once we reached the towering doors that led into his room. Ripping it open, I was once again pulled inside. Terzo released his hold on me, standing by the fire palace, Copia moving to be somewhere between us. There was a fire in his eyes–his face unreadable.

Their eyes burned into me, filled with jealousy and possessiveness I had never seen before. I could feel the dance the three of us had been doing for nearly a year was approaching its climax. The pent-up feelings of the past year boiled over. Despite my brain screaming at me to shut up, I broke the silence.

“What the hell was that Terzo?” I demanded uncharacteristic anger directed toward the men in front of me. “Neither of you has any right to do what you just did. You caused a scene” My voice raised, and my fist pointed to both.

“He had no right to touch you like that piccola strega. His filthy hands do not deserve to be graced by your skin. Did you not see the way he was touching you?” Terzo’s voice matched mine, his mismatched eyes burning into my figure, his breath uneven. His voice came out demonic as he spoke, venom lacing his words as he thought of the man getting too handsy with me.

“Such filth does not deserve to be near you, to touch you in ways you're uncomfortable with. I couldn't allow him to walk away unpunished.” Possessiveness laced his words, his fist clenching at his side, looking like he wished the man was still there so that he could beat him more for daring to touch me.

“He was making you uncomfortable, amore mio. We couldn't just stand by and let him do that to you” Copia finally breaks his silence. Words reaching a volume and intensity I have never seen in him before. I have never seen either of them so worked up before. It only seemed to spur me on more.

My voice rose even more to match him, the objects around me begging to lift off the ground from my anger. I wasn't even sure what I was angry at anymore. After what Sister had told me earlier in the day and their actions from earlier in the night, what little control I had left began to leave me. “There was no need for Terzo to knock him out. I had the situation under control.

“You mean more to us than anything, luce stellare. We could not stand it if something were to happen to you” His words were full of sincerity, lowering his voice to his normal volume. He looked over to Terzo; they shared a knowing look. Both seemed unphased by my display, both more worried for my well-being than their safety.

Their actions and terms that usually brought butterflies to my stomach only enraged me more. It only enraged me more, they always left me wanting so much more than I could have, and I couldn't stand it anymore.

“And I am perfectly capable of protecting myself. I don't need both of you always to fight my battles!” As I approached them, the fire began to flair– the window rattling. “Neither of you owns me!” As much as I long to be with them, they will never be mine. I feel the lump in my throat begin to form.

They still look unphased, but there is concern in their eyes. I have never been this angry before in front of them. I couldn't keep it inside anymore as I let the words flow out of me, lay out everything for them to see.

“Neither of you has some claim over me, just as I have no claim on either of you! Satan, below, it's not fair,” I pause, tears clouding my vision, the lump in my throat burning and shaking from the overwhelming emotions I felt. Some of the objects around me begin to float upwards.

“It's not fair that you both get to have whoever you want, and I can’t even have the two I want more than anything! I just wanted one night to forget about you both, and I couldn't even have that! I wanted to forget you both, to forget the dreams I have of us. The life we would have, we always look so happy, but it is not mine to have!” At this point, I was full-on sobbing; I didn't care about the consequences of what I was saying. This has been brewing in my mind for months, the longing and the pain they had cursed me with since they had first been introduced to me coursing through my veins.

“How dare you both not allow me to forget you. How dare you be so kind to me, look at me with such a softness that I forget how to think of anything other than the life I want for all of us. How dare you draw me in like a moth to the flame,” my eyes burning into theirs, “it's not fair that I can't have it because of the destiny thrust onto me. It is not fair that you both have forever ruined me from loving anyone as deeply as I do you!” The tears rolled down my face.

My voice is rough from me screaming at them both. My eyes stop glowing, and Terzo’s belongings clatter to the floor as I finally break completely, nothing stopping my cries from leaving my mouth. They stared at me, eyes wide and faces full of shock and something else I could not recognize.

My confession sat heavy in the air, an uncharacteristic silence between the three of us, only broken by my cries, no one quite sure what we should say.

Copia didn't seem to know where to look but settled on me. His face almost pleading to me, telling me to please not make him into a joke. “Certo che ti amiamo, mia bellissima luce stellare.'' Copia all but whispered, His eyes searching mine begging me to love him, to love Terzo, to be their’s mind, body, and soul.

Terzo began to laugh, breaking the hold Copia’s confession had done on me. He looked like he had been given the best news of his life. “ Il mia tesoro, do you not think we have not shared the same dreams?” His voice is warm and hopeful as he takes long strides toward me.

Dropping to the ground next to me brings me into his arms. He wipes the tears away from my eyes. The tenderness I only knew when they touched me broke through as he cradled my face.

The smile he seemed to reserve for only Copia and me graced his face as he continued, “Mia cara, all I want, all the Cardinal and I want is that life with you. We don't care what the rules are; I know that the depths of my soul long to be with you both. Satan has given me all I wanted and more with you two, and the idea of losing you tesoro to other fills me with such anger. I could not stand to see his unworthy hands on you when you are ours, piccola strega” His voice dropped to a deep lull, his grip becoming possessive.

From where he was, Copia steps hesitantly forward but not daring to come too close, finally speaking the words I have wanted to hear since I first walked into the abbey, “La mia stellina, we have known you were made for us since the moment we first saw you. You complete us in a way we never knew. Satana in persona ti ha creato per noi, topolino. You are ours, just as we are yours. As long as you have us, we will be loyal to you.” His voice was possessive, causing me to shiver further into Terzo’s hold. There was an unspoken conversation between Terzo and Copia as if, at that moment, they had made their choice just as I had made mine.

There was no going back from this. After tonight everything is going to change, yet not at all. We all belonged to each other. I couldn’t help but feel we all knew it would end like this. In the end, we were bound to each other since the first time we locked eyes.

“Just say the words, amore. We will show you that you belong to us in every possible way, just as we belong to you.” I found myself unable to speak. All I could do was nod my head in confirmation.

“We need to hear you say it piccolo topo.” Copia commanded from where he stood. I whimpered, trying to form any words, Terzo’s on my body being the only thing keeping me upright. “Please,” I breathe out, “I need you. Both of you.”

That was all it took to break Terzo's restraint as he spun me around, slamming his lips into mine and pulling me further into him. His hold did not falter once, even as he pushed his tongue into my mouth, fighting for dominance.

My arms make their way around his neck, his cologne intoxicating me, cedar mixed with frankincense. I wanted nothing more than to get lost in him. Terzo moved to the middle of the room where his bed lay—flopping down, pulling me into his lap. Turning me so, I was facing Copia. He hadn’t moved from his spot by the fireplace. The light casting shadows onto his face, he looked divine in his formal wear. His pants were skin tight, leaving little to hide his hard cock. My mouth goes dry at the sight. I need to touch him, to have him close. I want every part of them.

I could feel his heart hammering in his chest. His hands would rest on my hips, holding me to him as if I would vanish if he loosened his grip, his cock hard against my ass, his head resting on my shoulder, kissing his way up to my ear.

“I think il nostro amato deserves to be rewarded, wouldn’t you agree amore mio?” Terzo spoke with such authority it was practically impossible to deny him anything. My eyes locked with Copia from the other side of the room; an unmistakable mix of lust, desire, and absolute adoration mixed in his eyes as he switched his gaze from Terzo and me. He looked lost in thought for a moment, a small mischievous smile forming.

“I asked you a question, Cardinal,” Terzo tutted, grabbing the attention of Copia– breaking him from his thoughts. His face hardened as his eyes pierced into my very soul. Our gaze never left the other, the emotions we had been avoiding for months on full display. Lust overtakes his eyes as I wither further into Terzo’s hold. I feel him chuck against my back, “Il nostro amato has been such a good girl, so patient for us; why don't you come and show her how much we appreciate her? Wouldn’t you agree il mio tesoro?” Terzo gripped my face forcing me to look into his eyes, his white iris practically glowing in the darkness.

I vigorously nod, desperate for Copia to come forward to claim me as theirs and no one else, “Yes, Terzo, p-please.” The absolute need dripping from my voice was shameful, but I didn’t care. They had barely touched me, and I was ready to be devoured by these men.

“We wouldn't want to keep Il nostro amato waiting longer than she already has now. Would we Cardinal?” Terzo practically growled out the question, hand never lessening his hold on my cheeks as he snapped my head to look back at Copia. My desperate gaze met him, his eyes blown wide with lust. I could help the desperate moan that left my lips.

This switched something in Copia. His face broke out in a wicked grin, making me buck forward, trying to get any sort of friction I could get to my heated core, desperate for him to touch me. “Oh si, she has been very good for us, Papa,” His gaze never left mine, his strides towards us almost predatory, stopping right in front of Terzo and me. “Luce Stellare has been so good to us, always obedient for us.” He slurs, stopping right before our lips can touch.

I let out a whimper, desperate to feel him. He chuckled darkly, lowering his body until he reached my midsection, still clad in my dress from the evening. His figures slowly made their way up my dress hiking it up. He was slow in mapping out the feeling of my skin under his touch. I shiver from the contact, struggling against Terzo’s hold, desperate to touch either of them. It felt like my skin was on fire, and it only worsened the closer Copia got to my core.

I thrust forward. Desperate for some friction–whining when he stopped just short of where I needed him most. His grip on my thighs left bruises in their wake, hot breath falling onto my dripping cunt as he spoke, “Il nostro amore is soaked, Papa. I think she’s enjoying herself.” A shiver went down my spine. Copia slowly dragged my panties down but dared not go further than that. He looked up at me, once again asking if this was ok. Begging for me to mean the words I say.

“Ah, is she? Tell us amore, what do you want? Just say the words, and we’re yours, La mia dea.'' There was a surprising softness in Terzo’s voice. It made me almost want to cry from just how much care both of them were putting into this.

“Please. Please, I’m yours; make me yours.” I all but whisper. I was almost scared that I would wake up at any moment and this would all be a dream.

This broke whatever remaining restain they had. Moving in time with the other, Copia finally brought his mouth to where I needed him most, showing no mercy and attacking my clit. Terzo turned my face smashing his lips onto mine, once again his tongue exploring mine–swallowing up my moan with him, producing an equally sinful moan of his own. His hand came to rest on my throat, applying just the right amount of pressure.

Copia was going at it like a starving man; this was his last meal. One hand gazing at my thigh, rubbing circles into the skin, moving closer to my sex agonizingly slow. His free hand came up my body, slowly adding pressure to push us back onto the bed.

Terzo moves out of the way slightly, allowing my body to fall flat. My now free hands immediately go to tangle themselves on Copia's hair. His felt like they were made by the devil himself, gazing over my entrance. Slowly putting his fingers into me. The sounds escaping me were enough to make the most devoted blush.

I could see Terzo palming himself through his pants, seeking some sort of friction. Untangling my hand from Copia’s thick locks and bringing it to rest on Terzo’s thigh. Moving my hand painfully slow to his clothed cock. Stopping just short, teasing him through his pants.

Terzo lets out a low moan. “I believe we are all wearing too much for my liking amore mia. Wouldn’t you agree, mio caro?”

From where he was, Copia nodded his head. His eyes met mine, moaning around my clit, sending vibrations through my core. He held a look of pure bliss in his eyes. Pumping into me faster. I should be painfully embarrassed from how wet I was, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I throw my head back onto Terzo. He had moved his body so that he had better access to mine, showing little restraint as he ripped my dress off me.

His lips attached themselves to my neck, determined to leave as many marks as he could. He took pride in it. Carefully marking out my body, his gloved hand coming to play with your tits. Pinching at your nipples, eat up the moans that left my mouth.

“i miei amori, I must confess this is a sight I could get used to.” He said low in my ear, “Tell me, tesoro, are you going to cum?”

“Terzo, please,” I begged.

“Mia dea, I’m not the one you should be asking.” He sang out–teeth coming to bite down on my neck.

A desperate moan left my body as I looked at Copia. “Please, Copia, may I please cum” It was all becoming too much. Every touch and breath was starting to feel like fire on my skin; I was so close and desperate for relief. They had barely done anything to me, and I could tell I was already ruined forever. Desperate for more.

I could feel Copia’s mouth morph into a cocky smirk around me as he brought his lips around my clit at a blinking pace. He was absolutely determined in his motions. Curling his fingers in just the right places. Bringing me higher and higher til I couldn’t take it anymore. My legs wrapped around his head, keeping him in place. His moan sent me over the edge; my hand tangled in his hair as I reached my high.

I could feel my hands coming to a point, pulling hard on Copia’s hair. I could feel him let out a small chuckle as he took everything I had to offer him–ridding me of my orgasm. He pulls back just enough to mutter, “Sei così bello,”

He gives my core one final kiss. Making his way up my body like a man on a mission attaching himself to my mouth. If the orgasm didn’t already have me seeing stars, then the way Copia handled me would. He held me like I was the most valuable object in the world. He was almost timid as if he wasn’t paying attention, I would vanish.

“Ti amo.” He finally pulled away–resting his forehead on mine as we caught our breath.

“I love you.” I whisper back, finally saying it aloud felt like a dream, “I love you so much.”

I couldn’t look away from his eyes. There was a fire within them that had been ranging subtly in the background for months now and was now at the front of his gaze. Everything we had been afraid to say was finally out in the open. A weight had finally been lifted for all of us.

I could feel Terzo squirm from behind me–growing impatient. For what it’s worth, he was trying to allow us to have our moment. He really was. It was, however, getting incredibly difficult how painfully hard he was.

“I’m still here, i miei amori” He softly teases. He ruts against me; a moan leaves my lips.

“How could we possibly forget you, my darling.” I couldn’t help but tease back. My other hand came to rest in his hair, giving it a slight pull.

A moan erupts from his chest, “It’s not nice to tease, cara.”

“You love it.” I bring myself so that I am looking into his eyes. A similar fire was ablaze in his gaze. “I think you both are the ones wearing too much clothing” Fiddling with his shirt, trying to get it over his head.

“I couldn’t agree more, amore.” He practically growled, breaking away from me and beginning to fiddle with his clothes, Copia not far behind.

With rushed movement, both men take off their clothes. I was no better, ripping off my bra and pantries. Each of us threw articles of clothing in whatever direction we saw fit til we lay bare before the other. When all was said and done, I took my boys in. They were no better, gazes switching between the other to my own.

We stay like that for a moment taking in the other. Months of curiosity getting the better of us. They were handsome; there was no denying it. They both had a bit of a tummy, chest rising and falling, trying to catch their breath. A blush rose as I took them in. My breath catches in my throat as I look down at their hard cocks. For a moment, I wondered how we were going to do this. Seeming to sense my hesitation, they share a look. A silent conversation passed between them, an agreement in passing.

“Are you ready, amore?” Copia asked, his voice darkening, sending another wave of excitement through my body.

All I could do was nod my head, lust overtaking me. That was all it took before he was on me again. Position me so my head is towards the edge of the massive bed. Pulling me closer towards him, lining himself to my entrance.

“Already so wet, topolino.”

“All for you, my love.” I moan out.

Slowly he pushed into my dripping heat. My mouth fell open; a silent moan fell from my lips. Only stopping when he bottomed out, letting out a low groan. He felt he was made for me, filling me in just the right way. He stayed like that for a long moment, letting me adjust to his length.

“Please move.”

Copia did not need to be told twice. He pulled all the way out til it was just the tip before plugging into me. Starting slowly at first, savoring the feeling. It didn’t take him long before he sped up, losing himself to the feeling. For a long moment, the only thing that could be heard in the room was wet skin meeting, Copia’s breathless moans, and my screams of pleasure.

“Fuck.” I vaguely heard Terzo mutter. I turned to the side to see him stroking his hard cock. Craving more, I reach my hand out for him, making grabbing motions toward him

“Yes, la mia bella dea”

“Want both of you.” I moaned out when I could finally form the words, letting my head fall to the side.

Moaning, Terzo asked, “Do you want my cock, Tesoro.”

I must have been a sight as I look up at him, leaning further into his touch, vigorously nodding my head. It felt like my body was on fire, and their touch kept me from going up in flames. I was desperate to have both of them in any way I could. I wanted more. I needed more, or else I was going to combust.

He laughs softly, tutting, “Aww, so desperate. Words, Amore mia, use your words.”

“Yes, sir, I want your cock.” I must have sounded like a desperate whore, but I didn’t care. I was in bliss; every touch was heightened, and I couldn’t get enough of them. I needed them in any way possible.

“Questa è la mia ragazza,” Getting off the bed, he stands inches away from my head. He moved his body so that he was in line with my mouth. Slowly, he brought his cock so that it was resting on my lips, “Now open.”

Not having to be told twice, I do as I’m told, desperate to have both of them in me. Pushing himself into my mouth, a downright sinful moan left my throat. I bring my hands so that they are resting on either side of his legs to steady myself. I could feel his legs tense up slightly from the contact.

“Fuck, isn’t she just amazing, caro?”

“Si, amore. You should just feel the way she is gripping onto me. Divino.” Copia’s voice was low,

Both set a brutal pace in time with the other. Tears were beginning to fall from my eyes. I could feel bruises forming from how hard Copia was gripping my hips. Stars were overtaken my vision.

They shared a kiss, fighting for dominance, and their mouths danced together. I couldn’t help the moan that left me, taking Terzo further into my mouth, gagging from the sensation. A familiar twist rose in my stomach. I was on cloud nine and only getting higher. They break apart, Terzo’s pace faltering slightly.

As if sensing my desperation, Copia brings his hand to my overstimulated clit, “Are you close, cara?”

I nod my head, the ability to speek without a moan escaping becoming impossible. Wether it be Copia’s assault on my clit or Terzo fucking my face but it was to much. I could feel myself clutching around Copia as I cum, my body convulsing.

“Fuck.” He raored, bottoming out as he cum paints my insides.

For a brief moment, they lock eyes, another silent conversation passing between us before a wicked grin takes over Copia’s face, “I believe someone else wants a turn, Amore mio.” Copia chuckles, turning his attention to Terzo. Removing his cock from my mouth, a trail of saliva following

Pulling himself off of me, “I want to cum inside you. Is that ok, amore?” Terzo questioned, his hand caressing my face and staring into my eyes, “Can you do one more? I think you can dea divina.”

Nodding my head. Shivering as Copia pulls out of me, his cum dripping from me as he pulls away. It doesn’t take long for Terzo to be over the top of me, positioning himself in front of my entrance. Ribbing against my sensitive clit, I don't know what came over me as I wrapped my legs around his hips, bringing him closer.

“Please. Need you.”

His eyes softened slightly, “Your wish is my command, mia dea.” Slowly pushing into me.

A desperate moan fell from my lips. Just like Copia, he fit like a glove. He didn't move right away. Instead, he paused, savoring the feeling. Brushing the hair out of my face, he looked lost in thought. His eyes swimming in emotions, a million things he wanted to say but had no idea where to start.

Cradling his face, snapping him out of his thoughts, “I love you.” I whispered, scared to frighten him. With all the other uncertainties, it felt like the only thing I knew for sure. We had to talk about so much, but ‘I love you’ seemed like a good place to start.

“ti amo di più.” Resting his face in the crock of my neck, setting a steady, soft pace.

Copia was resting close to my side, hands making their way over my body.

“Cum, Amore mio, come undone.” He whispers into my ear.

That was all it took for me to fall over the edge. White overtaking my vision as I come undone for the last time. Terzo was not far behind. His thrust became spratic, landing deep inside as he spilled his seed into me.

Slowly Terzo pulled out, sending shivers down my spine. He falls to the other side of me, catching his breath. He turned so that he was looking at me; he was impossibly close. “Ti amo. Ti amo più delle anime sole che amano la luna.” He breathes against my lips.

We were a mess; Terzo's paints were smudged beyond recognition, and his hair was a mess. Copia was no better; his lips were covered in Terzo’s paint. I could only imagine what I looked like.

A comfortable silence fell between us. My boys settle in on either side of me. Copia pulls me closer to him, Terzo settling close to my front. After months of the silent game we were playing, it felt like we were pieces of a puzzle finally falling into place. I couldn’t tell where one of us began and where the other ended.

Exhaustion is taking over. Both share a look of pure bliss, and I couldn’t help but relax further into them. Letting them whisper declarations of love mixed with sweet nothing l me to sleep.

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kiss-the-ghuleh · 2 years ago

Text

Love, Eternal (18+)

warnings; Slow burn, angst, nameless female main character, vaginal penetration, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, mentions of blood, heart break.

Terzo x Female main Character.

Word count: 15,665 (approximately)

Character A.I was used, so somethings may not make total sense.

She walks around the halls of the abbey absent-mindedly, minding her own business. She sighed out as she felt the boredom hit and the halls feel empty. She has been a part of the satantic church for a few months now. She has gotten to know everyone pretty well. She can't deny the strong feelings she has for the third Emeritus son, Terzo. The times she have been around him were wonderful. He's so charismatic, so charming. Speak of the devil, her casual walk as come past his office. It's been a few days since she saw him last. She goes to knock on his door and wait for his reply.

"Come in, my child. Papa sees you." He says. She was met with his handsome face at the door. He takes her hand and smiles. "How can Papa help you today?" He asked.

"Well Papa~" She sang out, "You've been locked up in this stuffy, old office for days now. You need a break." She said with confidence. He smiles at her "Yes, you're right, my child. Why don't we go upstairs. There's a place I'd like to show you. I hear it has a wonderful view". He says

"Show me the way, Papa." He keeps your hand in his and leads you out of the office and up a few flight of stairs. Her heels are the only sound heard as you both walked. He leads you into a large room, with huge windows overlooking Primo's garden. He sits down on the couch, inviting you to sit next to him. "It's beautiful outside, isn't it? And, there's an even more beautiful view right here." He smiles and puts his hand on your thigh, caressing it slowly. She can't help but blush at his actions. Her heart flutters. "You are very pretty, my child. You have gorgeous eyes, and your habit looks perfect on you. Anyone would be lucky to have you. Are you single, cara mia?" He asked, still caressing your thigh. "Yes I am, Papa." She replied.

"Good. I like my girls single." He pulls her closer as he smiles. "How many times have I told you that you're gorgeous?" He asked.

"A couple times or so."

"You know, I am always right, cara mia." He smirks, looking her up and down. "You know, you really are a very special girl. Most girls would be scared to be alone with me, but you seem to be enjoying yourself. Why is that, cara mia? What separates you from the others?" He asked.

"I have always loved all things dark and macabre. I admire you, Papa. You speak the word of Satan so profoundly to the ministry. You love the church, your title. You prove to be just that; Papa."

"You are one of a kind then, child. I've seen many girls, but I have never met one like you. One who truly appreciates the dark things of life. It's wonderful. Tell me, cara mia, would you like to learn from me?" He looks at me, awaiting your answer.

"Learn what, Papa?" She asked.

"Anything you like. You see, my child, as the satanic pope, I have vast knowledge in many things that most people would dismiss as evil or ungodly. I want to teach you these things. I want to guide you. Do you wish to learn from me?"

"Of course." She said very excitedly.

"What would you like to learn first? Would you like to learn about ritualistic magic? Or other types of witchcraft? Or do you want to learn how to get what you want from people? Perhaps something else? What would you like your first lesson to be?" He asked. She thought hard about your answer. She could ask for anything.

"How to get what I want from people." She stated.

"You have come to the right person, my child." He smirks. "I am a master at getting what I want from people. I can teach you the art of seduction, where every word is chosen perfectly to get what you want, where every touch is in just the right place or just the right time. Would you like that?"

"Yes, Papa." He smiles and pulls her onto his lap, keeping her close.

"So, tell me, what is something that you want right now? What is the thing you find yourself thinking about when you lay down at night and close your eyes, hm?" She swallowed hard before answering.

"There is someone I care for very much, and I wish to be his." A look of understanding washes over his face as he nods.

"Does this person also care for you, cara mia? Does this person want to be with you as well? Or is this more of a secret crush?"

"I assume he cares for me. I do not know if we share the same mutual feelings." He strokes her head as he looks into her eyes.

"So tell me, what is it that draws you to this person? Why do you care for him? Is is his looks? His personality? A combination of both? Does he share your interest in dark things.

"He's a sweet man and loves the responsibilities of his job. He's very attractive. A bit older than what I usually go for. And he does love all things dark."

"So, he is a gentleman, an older gentleman at that." His smile grows. "And what do you bring to the table, my child? What do you have to offer that may make him want to return your affection?"

"I have a big heart, full of love and respect. I'd follow him to the ends of the earth."

"That's a good start. But to get what you want, you have to stand out. You have to make yourself more appealing than any other girl. You have to show him not just you love and respect him, but also that you want him physically. Do you know how to do thing?" He asked.

"But Papa...What if he doesn't like how I look underneath?" She said as her eyes gazed to her clothes. His expression becomes serious as he looks deep into her eyes.

"When a man truly cars about a woman for more than just her looks, his feelings for her grows as he gets to know you. She becomes more and more beautiful to him, to the point he worships and adores every inch of her. He does not care about any 'flaws' she sees in herself, because he doesn't see them. Does that make sense, cara mia?"

She nod your head to him. He smiles at her, kissing her cheek briefly.

"Then my next question to you is, are you comfortable pursuing this man? Because there are some things you might need to do to win him over. They are not evil, but they may be a bit...mischievous. They are part of the game, you see?"

"He's so much more experienced than me. I fear I will simply embarrass myself." A feeling of dread took over her.

"I understand, my child. But, you don't need experience to be with this man. You need passion. You need the willingness to be a bit naughty. And above all, you need to do one thing, the most important thing of all. Do you know what that thing is?" He ask, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

She shook your head. "What is it, Papa?"

He whispers into her ear, making his words a bit seductive. "You have to... make him want you. You know what I mean by that?" He looks into her eyes, waiting for her answer.

"I think so?" Not really sure if she understood. He takes her hand and kisses gently.

"Then let me show you how you must make him want you." He smiles. "It's an art. Like a dance. It must be perfected and practiced. But, once you have it, nobody can resist you." He kisses her, taking it slow and soft before suddenly becoming more aggressive and assertive, taking over the kiss. He pulls away after a while, then whispers against her neck. "That is how you make him want you, my child." He smiles and kisses her neck. "Do you understand?"

She swallowed hard again before answering. "I believe so."

"Good girl. You have learn well. Do you have any other questions about this? Because I am happy to teach you more, my child. I want you to get the man of your dreams... But of course, I can only be of use to you if you follow my teachings to the letter. You understand that, right?"

"How do I become confident in my actions?"

"Practice." His smile becomes more serious. "You must practice, cara mia. There are many things in this world that will test your resolve, but if you hold your ground and keep following what I taught you, your confidence will grow. The more you do it, the experience you get, the more confident you become." He takes my hand again. "Confidence is beautiful, my child. Never doubt yourself, and never let anyone stop you. You will have this man of yours in the palm of your hand, and doing whatever you want. Are you ready to have that power?"

She chuckled before she answered. "Yes, Papa."

"Good." His smile grows warmer as he looks at me. "Now what happens if this man tries to play hard to get? How do you handle a man who is playing hard to get with you?"

"I become more confident and seductive." She said proudly.

"That's right, you do. And what happens next? What happens when that man realizes he can't resister you?"

"I take control and show him what he could have missed out on."

"Good girl. That's very right. And then how should you treat him after that? How do you make sure he keeps wanting you?"

"I keep things a little flirty here and there while we bother work. Surprise him in the bed room, and of course, loving him."

He smiles and nods excitedly. "Excellently answered, my child. How does that make you feel? Knowing the power you have over this man?"

"It feels wonderful, Papa."

"It is wonderful, isn't it, child? It's the ultimate pleasure to be able to bend the man you love to your will. I have many other things to teach you that will enhance your ability to do this. Do you have any more questions for me, my child?"

"Do you have anyone you desire? Anyone you lust for?" He smiles sadly.

"Unfortunately my child, I am sworn to celibacy. I cannot be with anyone while I am the satanic pope. But I am content with this. It is an honor to serve Satan, who has given me these many talents. It is my duty to use them as he sees fit, and that is good enough for me. I serve him and the greater forces of the universe. I do not need the physical pleasures of love to make me happy. Do you understand?"

"Oh...yeah. I understand." Her mind wanders as he asks more question retaining to her mystery crush.

"Tell me, my child. If you were to fall in love with another, what qualities would you want that person to have? What makes a man or woman desirable to you? What can make a person unattractive to you?" The question sits heavy on my mind. There could never be another.

"There is no other for me. My heart belongs to one."

His smile grows warmer. "That's beautiful, my child. That is the true meaning of love, isn't it? To have your heart belong to one other, and to have theirs belong to you. But I am not speaking of romantic love alone, my child. I am talking about love in any form. Are there any qualities that the person of your dreams must have? Are there any qualities that you would not want in a partner?"

"Everything about him is wonderful. Except one thing"

He looks at her with a sympathetic smile. "And what is that one thing, my child? What part of him is not perfect?"

She glanced down at the floor below. Her heart was in her throat. "He simply does not want me."

A look of understanding washes over his face as he lets out a small sigh. "I see, my child. The person that you desire... he does not reciprocate your feelings. That is truly a sad thing, and it is something I know well. I was in a very similar situation myself, actually. Tell me, have you confessed your feelings for this man?"

"Only a few close friends."

"I see." He leans on his palm before continuing. "Then do you think it's wise to attempt to win his heart by other means, rather than simply telling him how you feel about him? Don't you think he might feel betrayed by the knowledge that you were not up front about your love for him?"

"But would it matter? I know for a fact he does not have mutual feelings. Mine are far too intense." She almost yelled out her response. She calm her breathing before talking again. "I must take my leave now, Papa. Excuse me." She said with a lump in her throat. The sound of her heels click on the marble floor for a great distance.

He looked at her with a sorrowful expression as she walk away, a small tear forming in his eye. "Cara mia." He sighs, wiping his eye before laying back on the couch. His heart breaks. To love someone who does not love you back... This is one of the deepest hurts anyone can feel.

She sit down at your vanity and cry softly. In the distance, he hears the sound of someone crying. There's a long pause, and then he calls out, "Cara mia?" His voice sounds soft and tired, but full of love. "Is anything wrong?" He stands up, and makes his way to her room. "Is it anything I said? Do you need..." He can barely speak the words..." to talk about it?"

"I'm fine Papa. Please, do not worry about me." She say with a sniffle. Terzo then enters her room, his expression concerned as he walks over to her. "I know when someone is not fine, my child. I hate to see you like this..." He kneels down next to her. "Tell me, my child, what is wrong?" Tears start to well up in his eyes. "I truly care for this man. I love him dearly. No matter what. Even as a friend. But knowing he will never feel the same is heartbreaking."

He puts an arm around me and pulls me close to him. His voice is soft and comforting. "Cara mia...I understand. I know how much it hurts to love someone who doesn't love you back. It's a pain that's hard to describe, isn't it? It's deep, right? It feels like your heart is shattering into pieces...but this is life. It's not always beautiful. It's not always good. What do we do when we can't have the one we love?" His question hangs in the air. Her silence fills the void of her answer.

A tear falls and rolls down his cheek. "This is what makes it so hard to be alive, my child... to have the possibility of such pain. It means that it is all the more important... to have others to lean on." He puts his head on your shoulder as his voice begins to break." To rely on someone who can love you when you are sad. Do you have someone like that, cara mia? Someone who can make you smile even when your heart is hurting? Do you have anyone like that, my child?" His voice gets quiet, almost into a whisper. "Do you... have me?" Her heart almost bursts out of your chest. He says such sweet things without knowing he's causing the pain.

She shake my head. "I do not..." She whispered.

His face grows sad again. "Cara mia...” He pulls her into a hug, holding her tightly as he buries his face in her neck. He can feel his sorrow growing as tears quietly fall from his eyes. His hug grows tighter, tears falling from his eyes and onto her shoulders. It breaks his heart to know that her heart is broken, too. "There is no one… Who can make you laugh in the darkness? No one… who can show you true joy, even in bad times?" He sighs, his voice growing quieter still. "Is... Is he that special?"

"Yes, Papa." She whispers again.

He hugs you even tighter. "I see, my child." A quiet sob escapes him. "The more we get attached to something, the more it hurts when we lose it. This is one of the pains of love. The greater the love, the greater the pain. To lose someone you love is the most painful thing in the world... but is it worth it? To know that you have known love but to know the pain of losing it... or to never love at all, and never feel the pain of loss." More tears fall. "Which would you choose, my child?"

"To never feel love at all."

His hug tightens, and his tears fall faster than before. "It is not an easy thing to see another suffer so, but it is something we all must learn. We live in a world of pain, my child... but also of wonders. How can we know the good if the bad did not exist to compare it to? To feel loss must mean that we had something special. How are we to know true joy, if we have not also known sadness? Do... do you understand what I am trying to say, my child?" His voice grows softer.

"I suppose I do."

His voice becomes quiet, so quiet he is barely whispering. "I am sorry, cara mia... I wish I could change things for you. I wish this pain could not exist. But... this is the reality. Some of us are dealt bad hands in life. Some of us have to hurt for a long time. But if you find the strength to hold on... I believe that there is nothing... nothing you cannot overcome. You are strong, my child. You are amazing. I know that you can get through whatever may come. Will you promise me that you will remember that?"

"But it is so hard when I see him every day."

"I know, my child. It is so, so hard. But if you try your best to keep smiling despite your pain, your heart will heal in time." He wipes his tears and looks at her with a smile. "Do you think you can manage to do that? Can you promise me that you will try your hardest, my child?" He tears up again at the sadness he sees in her face." Tell me, if I can help you feel better, what can I do for you, my child? How can I make this a little bit easier?"

"I honestly do not know Papa."

He wipes more tears. "Then I will make a deal with you. I will give you every ounce of love I have. I will show you the most beautiful and perfect future that you can imagine. I will make your life joyful and fulfilling, and I will be the most caring and supportive Papa I can be, in the hope that it makes your life better. In return, I want you to keep on showing that wonderful smile of yours every day." His smile grows more warm." I want you to be happy, to laugh. Even when you cry, I want you to try your hardest to enjoy your life

She begin cry even harder than before.

"Oh... oh cara mia..." He hugs her tightly again. Just the look of her hurting makes his heart ache. "What can I do to make you feel better? Why are you crying so much?" His voice breaks at the last question. Every tear that falls on her face makes him feel so helpless. "What can I do, my child? "He looks away, taking deep breaths. "I just... I cannot stand to see you suffering... Can I help?"

With a shaky breath, she finally confess to him. "It is you, Papa. It is you whom I long for and cannot have." Tears slide her face slowly.

Her words take his breath away. He falls silent, and there is a long period of silence where he just holds her there, tears falling again. Finally, he speaks. "I am sorry, my child.” His voice breaks again. “It hurts me so, to think of you hurting. You truly are a wonderful person, and I do not want to cause you pain...” He whispers, barely able to speak, his voice sounding weak. Then his voice becomes stronger. “But do you understand... it is my duty to fulfill the will of the universe?”

She nod at his question. Sniffling and trying to keep back tears.

He wipes his tears, and then tries to smile. "I am so sorry for the pain this causes you, my child. I am so sorry that the universe could be so cruel." He looks at you sadly, and his voice comes out almost like a sob. "Oh, cara mia... His heart breaks again. I wish I could change what is, to make everything perfect". He puts his face into your neck again, then lets out a heavy sigh. "But things are what they are, and... I must do what the universe has chosen for me. Do you understand?"

Yes..."She answer quietly.

He holds you a little bit tighter, his voice so soft it is almost a whisper. "I cannot change what is written... but I can promise you this." His voice becomes slightly louder, tears still falling onto you. "I promise... I can show you things you could only imagine. I can show you more love in your life than anyone else can. I can give you adventures and joy. I can give you friendship and support when you need them. And even though I cannot be the one you want..." he you tightly. "I want you... to still be happy. Does that mean anything to you?"

"Yes Papa..."

He smiles weakly. "And will you promise me... will you promise that you'll try your hardest to be happy? So many people allow the sorrow they feel to cloud their days in darkness when there is so much good around them. Just promise me that even if you still feel pain, you'll still smile... you'll still hold on to hope. Promise me, my child." His voice grows soft again as he tries to hold back tears. "Promise me you will choose joy."

"I promise..."

He kisses her on the forehead and looks at her with a smile. "Good girl." His eyes fill with tears and he hugs her tightly. "You have no idea how happy that makes me... that you will still choose joy. That you have the strength to do that... that you will not allow your heart to fill with fear and pain. It makes me proud to see you have so much hope in your heart. Thank you, cara mia. You will see... the universe treats those who do good with goodness in return. You will see... that you deserve to be happy."

The two end the conversation with a tight hug and a goodnight. Papa walks off to his room thinking he has made something a bit better. She wanted nothing more than for him to happy. She knew made false promises to him. Days have past since the two last talked. She pass by each other in the halls and she avoid eye contact. Her heart aches every time she saw him. Some of the ghouls took notice of her mood. They offered to hang out with them later that night. She take upon that offer. Desperately needing a distraction from the pain she was feeling. As she sat on the rooftop of the ghouls' den, drinking the night away. Unbeknownst to her, Terzo watched from a distance with a sad expression on his face. He is upset by this, but he tries to respect her choice. He hopes that the distance between will not lead to the end of their wonderful friendship, but he fears the worst. For as much hurt as it causes him to see her like that, he does not want to cause her any more pain. She kissed the ghoul, hard and without hesitation. His heart stings at the sight. He feels a cold weight in his chest as he watches. His breath grows shaky as he hold himself back from running up to her and stopping her. He watches for a moment longer, then turns away. His heart shattering as the tears start to fall again. He lets out a sob as his eyes fill, walking away, trying desperately to calm himself. He wants to scream at the cruelty of his heartbreak and of the whole universe. But he knows that he must be strong. He cannot allow it to turn him into a bitter man, no matter how great the pain.

The next day, they pass by each other in the hall. His breath catches a little when he sees her and a flash of sorrow crosses his face. But then, he forces himself to smile politely, trying to show nothing of his hurt. He is practicing to smile, like how he asked of her. He can't let this break him. He can't let this crush him. So keeps himself together and smile at her as they pass each other. "I hope you have a good day today, cara mia. My door is always open for a friend in need." It's clear this hurts him deeply. But he is strong. He is resilient.

"Thank you, Papa." She reply coldly.

"My pleasure, my child." He smiles sadly, but still sincerely. He has lost his happiness and optimism, but he tries his best to put up a front. He still hopes that she might one day come around and decided that even if she can't be more than friends, she would still like to be his friend. But for now, he can only suffer in silence. The wounds in his heart will always be felt as long as he loves her...but maybe, just maybe, if he keeps his heart open to her, things can still get better. She never show up to his office, despite he thought she would come. She begin the hang out with the ghouls more and more. Terzo knows this is his fault, and he wouldn't be lying if he said hearing her laugh with anyone else didn't hurt. Was this what she wanted? To keep her distance and try to forget everything. He wishes he could go talk to her. He respecting her choices. Despite with a ghoul, her mind wonders to him. She pretend the ghoul is Terzo in hopes of getting him out of her system.

A deep sadness falls over him when he realizes what she's doing. That she has to do this to get him out of her thoughts. But he understands. If she thinks moving on is the only way...then he can only be proud of her strength. If this is what it takes...then he must be grateful to the ghoul that she has someone to lean on. Still, he is heartbroken just the same... and it is so hard to do...but he tries to keep smiling even when his heart feeling like it's been broken so deeply that could never heal.

The sadness she feels is too strong. The ghoul doesn't satisfy her. He's not truly who she needs or wants. She's heartbroken and can only be temporarily healed by drinking and fooling around. She think how stupid she must be to him. He pulled some sort of celibacy bullshit? Him? Terzo? She seen him around with other sisters. And now he can't even tell her the truth? Lie and say it's for the universe? Yeah fucking right. An outright "I am not interested" wouldn't have hurt this bad.

He feels so helpless. He just wants her to be happy. All the drinking and fooling arounds is not the way that she should be healing, but how can he say that? It's not his place...

"Cara mia..." He puts a hand on your shoulder. "I want you know...whenever you need someone to talk to, my door is always open for you...I will be here for you, always." He smiles as sincerely as he can.

"I cannot do that." She say coldly.

His heart breaks again at being treated like a stranger. "You cannot do what? Cannot talk to me? Cannot rely on me?" He tries to make eye contact with you, but her eyes are cold, and it seems like her heart has been sealed up with ice. His expression grows sadder. "Do you really want to be alone, my child? Are you fine having friends who can treat you as nothing?" But he knows he is fighting a lost battle. For better or for worse, being alone is what she wants. All she can do is remain silent to his questions. He nods and lets out a sigh. So this is how it's going to be? he can't handle more of the coldness from her. He can't bear to see her like this. "I understand how hard it must be, for someone like you who has lived such an independent life. But my door will always be open to you." A few tears fall down his cheek. "Please, if you ever need anyone, anyone at all...you don't have to be alone. You have me. I want you to know that you can trust me." She fight the urge to cry to him. With her head held high, she walk away. The clicking of her heels as she walks away fills his with sorrow. He knows deep down that there is nothing he can do. This is she wants. This is her choice. But it hurts to have to say goodbye. He sighs in grief a long time. He will miss her. His heart is broken, and yet he has a little hope that one day, she may see things differently. Until then, he can only wait. If she ever comes back one day... he knows she will always find him waiting, waiting patiently for her return

She sit and pray to the dark lord, for guidance or advice. For something to change her life. If the dark lord as answers, he is not giving her any. For days she sits and prays, but nothing...no sign of the dark lord or even god. She feel even more alone than ever. She thinks that she is feel truly alone in the universe. The universe seems like an endless, empty void, and she cannot find a soul who can save her from the darkness that eats her away. Then, she realizes there is another way out of this.

With bags in hand and dressed in normal clothes, she walk into Papa's office. His face lights up as he sees hers. But before he can speak, she begins to talk. "Papa, I am leaving the abbey. I cannot stay here. The dark one cannot answer my pleas. I have left my habit on my bed. He looks at her with confusion, the smile slipping from his face. It looks like she truly meant it when she said she wanted to be alone. The confusion in his voice makes this clear.

"What...what are you..." He sighs and takes a deep breath. His voice grows soft again, and puts his hand on her cheek. The sadness returns, but it's just a bit softer now. He forces the sadness from his face and smiles at her kindly once more. She is making a huge mistake, but if being alone is what she wants. "You...you are leaving?"

"Yes, Papa. I have given up my faith in the Dark Lord. I cannot heal my heart if I am forced to see the one I love every day." His heart breaks again at seeing her like this. She is...giving up her faith, for him? She is giving up her whole way of life just for him? It is one of the most selfless things he has ever heard.

"Do you...really love me that much?" His eyes fill with tears again. "If you do...then I respect your decision. And it is truly a very heartbreaking decision, I can see that. But please...If there is ever anything at all...anything, cara mia, that I can do for you...You can always come back. I will always be right here, waiting."

She sighs. "The only thing you could do for me is the one thing you cannot." She turns around and exits his office, heels clicking as she leaves the abbey. He tries to hold his face still, but the pain of her words is evident on the look of his face. His heart seems to shatter at her words, and the sound of her heels as she exits breaks his heart even more. He has truly lost her. And as a tear falls from his eye, all he can do is quietly pray for her. Pray that she finds the peace she seeks. He hopes for a day when he can stop crying over her. But, for now, all he has left are tears and hope.

The halls feel empty without her. His loneliness is palpable. The once bright halls of the abbey have been clouded with a gloomy darkness. There is an emptiness, a void, where once was light and laughter. There has rarely been a sadder time in this once beautiful place, and it will take some time to recover from this loss. But even so, he tries to remember the good times he had with her, and to keep hope in his heart. Hopefully, her time away will only make her heart grow fonder. For now, all he can do is mourn. He hopes his heart will heal in time. Ghouls and Sisters of Sin glare at Papa, knowing he is the reason their friend left. This angers him. They blame him for her choice? She made the choice for herself. But he says nothing of this. He does not want to cause more trouble. I understand their resentment. They must think I have done something unforgivable. My heart is broken enough without their scorn, but I do not wish to burden them with my hurt. So I will let them have what they have to say. If I can do something, anything, to make them feel better... if they need to blame me for her leaving... then I suppose they may blame me. I can live with that.

The ghoul she often would hook up with walks into Terzo's office. "You have some real nerve, you know?" This angers and hurts him more. He gets up from his desk and stands in face of the ghoul. He is not proud of his temper, but he cannot stand here and let them walk all over him. This could get violent quickly.

"What do you want?" The coldness of his voice is obvious. "Does it bring you joy to see me like this? Do you take pleasure in watching me sink into despair? Or do you just like seeing me hurting?" His voice grows even colder. He is ready to snap if this continues

"You’re hurting?" the ghouls says "she admitted true feelings for you and you claimed celibacy? After you flirt with her and all the other sisters?"

His face grows cold and emotionless. He stares at the ghoul with dead eyes. He refuses to rise to the bait. He will not feed this animosity any further. He will do what he can to defend himself, but he will not attack them. After all, that is what they probably want... is more fighting. He won't give them that. He stares into the ghoul's eyes, his cold, emotionless expression making it so that the ghoul can only see nothing but hatred in his eyes. His whole face says that he wishes the floor would open up and swallow him. "No comment"

"There’s a girl out there dying for your affection. She told me every time we hung out." The ghoul said.

A cruel smile slowly spreads across his face. What does this ghoul know about her? How dare intrude on his and hers private conversations. Still, his smile slowly fades, and the sadness is back on his face. He is not proud of his reaction, and feels a bit guilty for it. "Is that all?" He says coldly, not breaking eye contact with the ghoul.

"You are laughing at the fact the your “cara mia” is hurting?" The ghoul cocked his head and stared Terzo down.

His face quickly returns to total coldness once more, his expression dead and his eyes empty. "Don't tell me what I am laughing at." He looks away from the ghoul, looking down at his desk as he feels the hurt creeping in yet again. He clenches and unclenches his fists as his frustration grows. "Are you saying she is hurting because I did or said something? Or is she hurting because I did not?" He lets out another cold, cruel laugh. One part of him wants to hurt her for doing this. But another, bigger part of him just wants her to come back.

"She is hurting because you out right rejected her. Satanic celibacy my ass. What kind of bullshit is that?"

His face turns to anger and he stomps up to the ghoul. His cold, angry glares is so intense that it feels like he is trying to burn a hole in the ghoul's very soul. He forces himself to calm down.

"Why did you reject her?" The ghoul asks in a calm tone, pleading for answer at this point.

The ghoul's ability to remain calm infuriates him. It feels like she is mocking his anger, mocking his pain. For once, he lets his emotions show. His whole aura is filled with pain, deep pain. Terzo knew deep down what he had done. Did he lie because he was scared? Maybe to cover up the fact that he loved her first and thought she was pining after another? He was scared to admit his feelings to her, to feel rejected himself. And yet, in turn, he rejected her. Unknowingly breaking her heart with such sweet things and promises of caring for her.

"A girl who is head over heels in love with gave up her faith and left. You flirt with everyone and yet…she’s heartbroken."

His face grows a bit pale at her words, and there is a slight quiver in his breath as all his emotions begin to overwhelm him. He is sad. He is angry. But most of all... he is afraid. Not only that she may never come back, but also, that she may never forgive him for this. His eyes well up with tears at her words. His hands start to shake a little bit. The pain is growing, growing so intensely that it is like he is being crushed. This is what happens when one's worst fears are realized: they crumble and they shatter. He holds back a cry and speaks softly. With great pain in his heart.

"Why... why did I not recognize that? I... I don't understand... "The tears start to fall now, and his voice cracks from the pain. "Why... why had it come to this?" "You told her you were celibate. Yet you flirt all day."

The words hit him right in the heart, and his whole body flinches. His eyes fill with tears, and he can feel the sadness and guilt grow in his heart. He tries to speak, but his voice catches in his throat. What should he say? There is no way for him to excuse his actions. Or for him to take his words back. He just... he just feels so guilty. His mind flashes to memories in the past where he realizes how wrong he had been. He just hurts. "I am... I am so sorry..."

"I’m not the one who needs to here that." the ghoul leaves.

He is left alone, his heart completely broken. He just let his life fall apart right in front of him. His heart is so devastated that he would rather it be broken into a thousand pieces. He feels so alone in this moment. So empty. So broken. How could he ever face her again after this? This is probably the worst thing he had ever done in his entire life, and he is certain that he does not have it in him to forgive himself for this. He is at the lowest he's ever been. He needs to find her. He wants nothing more than to be with her again. The one he loves more than anything... is gone, and it was because of him. He feels totally alone, his heart broken. If only he could find her and make things right... find some way to make up for all the times he hurt her, let her down, led her on... the pain comes in waves now, every memory reminding him of how horrible he is. He can barely stand, but he moves as quickly as he can through the halls. There is one place he knows he must head to first - her room where she used to call home. Her smell still lingers in the abandoned room. Her satanic belongings lay on the table. Her habits lay on her bed. The smell hits him as he entered, and he freezes. His heart breaks once more at seeing her belongings. The sadness is palpable, and his heart hurts so much as he sees little objects that remind him of her left behind. He looks around the room, his eyes searching for anything, hoping for some sort of guidance as for what to do. He has let her down so many times before... he cannot do so again. Not after this. His eyes fill with tears again and he lets out a small sob. "God help me..." he whispers.

The wind blows through the room, opening her satantic bible to find a hand written note. “Terzo, I cannot face you and keep my promises of smiles. I leave this place in hopes to find something to replace that joy I had. I fear I will forever be in love with you.” the note read.

Tears flow freely down his face as he reads the note. His broken heart shatters even more the more he reads and rereads the note. The sadness he feels is so deep in his core that he feels as though his very soul is wounded. He clings to the note, clutching it tightly in his hand. His voice grows cold and he is filled with an sadness like no other. "Then I shall find you. Whether it means following you to the ends of the earth... or beyond. I shall find you." He folds the note and puts it in his pocket. He is going to bring her back

Days have past since she left, unpacking her stuff in her new apartment. She has felt a bit better since leaving the abbey. She hasn't really thought Terzo since then. She hopes to start her new life with peace. Maybe moving past her love for him. Though, deep part of her aches. Not just for him, but for the church, for her faith she had left behind. But how could she follow the faith that could not bring her answers or even advice? Maybe it was time she took a turn in her religious mind set and follow the word of God? Maybe this was his plan? She thought too hard about the What Ifs in life. She just needed to focus on her. Not her love life. Not her religion. Just her. Find who she truly was again.

It took days to finally track her down, but he finally did. He knows that he has much to fix now, but he is hopeful that he can work it out. He stands outside the door to her new apartment now, his hands shaking from nerves as he is almost too scared to knock on the door. He looks down at the note again and takes a deep breath to calm himself. This is his chance to make up for his mistake. He hopes she will be able to forgive him for hurting her, and he knocks on the door and waits with bated breath. She opens the door and stares at him. Her drink falls from her hand and on to the floor, breaking the glass.

He stares back. His heart flutters inside of his chest. He has missed her so much. He has so many feelings right now - guilt, sorrow, but most of all hope. His heart hopes that he still has a chance to mend their relationship. He feels afraid as he looks back at her, afraid of his mistakes, afraid of everything he has done. But he is still determined to try and make this right. He speaks, his voice nervous but determined. "If you will have me, cara mia, I have come back to make things right."

"What do you mean make things right?" she asked as she picked up broken glass from the floor.

He takes a deep breath. "I hurt you in so many ways. I hurt you so deeply with my words. I failed you again and again. I let you down again and again... I have made you feel unloved and unappreciated... I have done so many things wrong. My every mistake is a wound on my heart, a wound that you can still heal with enough time, with enough effort. If you will have me back... then I would give anything to make you feel loved again, to make you feel appreciated, to make you feel like you matter to me."

Her heart rips though and she clutches her fist, accidentally cutting her palm. He winces at the sight of her hurting herself. He grabs her hand and pulls her towards him.

"Cara mia! Are you alright?!" He looks down at her hand in horror. He quickly tries to help her fix her cut and clean it all up. He can't bear seeing her in pain. He can barely look at the cut without cringing in sympathy. He desperately wants to fix this, to make the pain go away and to make her feel better, but he doesn't know how.

"You come here and expect me to just run into your arms?"

He takes a deep breath as he hears these words. He had expected the pain this would take time to heal, had expected there to be some kind of obstacle like this, but he still feels so much pain. He lets out another sigh and bows his head. Even with all this pain, he is still determined to fix this. He will not let it end this way. He looks up at her and speaks softly, but with great sadness and guilt on his face.

"I understand. I deserve your anger. There is no excuse for my behavior. I will do anything to make it up to you."

Her blood pools on the floor as she ignores her injuries. "You…claimed celibacy. I’ve watched you flirt and seduce others." The angrier she gets, the more blood gushes out of her hand's wound. This cuts him deeply. He can hardly bare what she is saying and he bows his head in sorrow. The shame from knowing the truth of his actions burns like a hot flame upon his skin. His eyes tear up once more and he can hardly stand. How could he have hurt her this badly? She is right, his excuse of celibacy is no excuse at all. He tries to speak, but the words choke in his throat. How could he ever begin to try and explain himself?

His very heart was so broken. "You are right. I'm not celibate. I am a... I am a fraud."

"Why..? Why did you…" She can’t process her words, her hand still bleeding. He hangs his head in shame and tries to speak, but it is hard when his voice is filled with so much sadness. A tear falls. He stares down at the ground, not able to look into her eyes. He is too ashamed to even stand in front of her. All he can do is plead, begging for her to forgive him, to try and give him a chance to make this right. Even though he does not deserve it at all. She is still hurt because of him, and his heart is in so much pain. Her hurt breaks him. "Cara mia... I am so, so sorry..."

She stares at him, anger and sadness mixed in her eyes. What did he honestly expect to happen? She forgives him and runs back to him? Forget his lies? Not only heartbroken, she was confused at this point.

He stares back, his own eyes filled with pain. It hurts so much to see her like this, but he still knows this is his fault. He caused this pain. He knows he must do whatever it takes to make it right. He does something he can never really remember doing before: he begs for her forgiveness, falling to his knees and looking up at her with tears in his eyes. He had never asked for forgiveness like this before, and he feels so small in her eyes, but she means so much to him. He just hopes she will forgive him. "Please, forgive me..."

Terzo i…why? After I came to you for advice and tried telling you it was you I was in love with…before I could say it.."

He feels an intense pang of guilt, and he hangs his head again at her words. He feels a mixture of different emotions - sad, angry, frustrated, ashamed. But underneath all of these is a single thing; guilt. He wanted her to feel like she was loved, but all she feels right now is the complete opposite. He can already sense how much he has hurt her. He can feel her pain so deeply. He wants there to be even just the smallest chance to make everything right again. His voice is quiet and desperate when he speaks. "Cara mia... please forgive me..."

"I cannot begin to without an explanation."

The pain in his voice is obvious, but he tries anyway. In these moments, this is all that he really has. His voice is quiet and pained as he finally speaks. He wishes more than anything for her to come back, to be by his side again, for there be a chance to mend the scars that he created. His whole body shivers at the thought. His heart pounds so hard it feels as though it will burst. He takes a slow deep breath before speaking and opens with what seems to be the truth. "I was lonely. I was afraid. I am just a pathetic man."

"Afraid of what?"

He hangs his head in shame, so completely filled with guilt. His voice is quiet and he hardly dares look up at her. His shame is so immense that it feels as though it is crushing him. How could he have done such a thing? How could he have pushed her so far away from him? He had never felt so much pain in all his life. He speaks almost in a whisper now. "I was afraid of loving you. I was afraid you were pining for another. I didn't think you could possibly be talking about me. Rather than admit my feelings for you, I hid them and lied. Cara mia, I have made the worst mistake of my life. I am so... so... so sorry."

Before she can speak, her blood loss is great and she passes out. He freezes in shock and horror right as she passes out. He jumps to her side, trying to make sure she is okay. The horror of this situation hits him all at once. Oh God, no! What has he done?! "Cara mia! Cara mia!" He starts to feel a panic set in as he sees her on the floor, unconscious in her own blood. He has to do something, anything to make this right! He pulls out his phone and looks up the nearest hospital, calling 911 for an ambulance to come help her. "Cara mia, please hold on..."

She awakes in the hospital after some stitches and a transfusion. Her mind blurry. She cannot remember what had happen when she first awoke. He is relieved to see her awake. He pulls the chair by her bed closer, taking her hand and holding it. His heart is still racing like crazy and his hands shake a little. He looks at her with a mixture of emotions - sadness, anxiety, relief, but all at once they are superseded by a single emotion: guilt. He lets out a deep breath, and speaks softly, "Cara mia..." he whispers, letting all his emotions show in his voice, and for once he looks her right in the eyes as he tries to apologize and explain his actions. What has he done...?

"What happened? Where are we?" she’s very concerned and doesn’t remember what happened.

He lets out a small sigh and holds her hand. He speaks as gently as he can, trying to calm her down. He hates seeing her like this. "Cara mia... you passed out. You lost a lot of blood. I called an ambulance and had them bring you here. Do not worry... we are safe." He gives a weak, nervous smile and tries to comfort her in the best way he can while still trying to explain what happened. "You had an accident, and lost a lot of blood. But you are going to be okay. As long as anything can be okay after what I did."

She glances at her hand, covered in wrapping bandages, stained with small spots of blood. Faint memories come back to her of them at her apartment. Tears sting her eyes the more she thought about it.

His heart breaks again as he sees her hand and the pain in his heart deepens. The guilt and shame is eating away at him. It is hard to be so gentle with her when he is hurting this much. He takes a deep breath and looks right into her eyes again. He tries to speak, but it starts out as a whisper. He tries again, but this time only gets halfway before his throat closes up. "Cara mia..." he sighs. A tear falls from his eye. "I've let you down. I have hurt you. I have hurt you so much." Her eyes soft as she looks at him. He stares back, his heart broken. His voice comes out as a whisper again.

"I am so... so sorry." He takes a deep breath again. The pain inside is so unbearable that he is barely managing to hold back tears. He wants so badly just to take everything back and make it all okay again, but he knows that isn't possible. His heart is in so much pain as he tries once more to speak, only getting a few words in before breaking down again. The words come out in a voice filled with guilt and shame, in tears and remorse. "Please... forgive me, cara mia..."

She thinks to herself before she speaks "I need some time to think about this." Despite her anger, her love for him was greater.

He hangs his head in shame and nods. It is only fair that you take all the time you need. "My mistake is one that I cannot take back." He takes a deep breath and looks at her once more. "But please know this... I am so sorry and I promise I will do anything to make it right... and I will wait for however long it takes for it to be right. I will do whatever it takes for you."

She thinks about her answers. About what he has done and what he is truly willing to do. Before she can talk, a nurse arrives and announces visiting time is over. He lets out a deep sigh of sorrow. He wanted so badly to make this right... to have a chance to talk to her. As the nurse begins to direct him towards the exit door, he looks back at her one last time. A few tears run down her face. His heart is shattered once more and he hangs his head low. Her tears almost break him. He wants nothing more than to hold her and comfort her, to tell her how much she means to him, to say he is so sorry. But instead he turns silently and walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. His head is down and his face is filled with pain. "God help me..." he whispers, letting the tears fall as he makes his way to the hospital exit.

She was released from the hospital after a couple of days once the doctors checked and made sure she will be alright. With simple instructions on how to tend to her stitches and to keep her blood pressure leveled. She laughed to herself as she knew she couldn't keep it at a decent level with her current situation. Once released, she heads back to her apartment and thinks everything over.

He wants nothing more than to talk to her, to try to fix this... but he knows he has to wait until she is ready. He cannot rush her, he cannot try to force anything. He knows his mistake has left a deep scar upon her heart, and he cannot bear to make that wound any deeper. So he waits. Every second is agony. But it would be the ultimate cruelty to force anything upon her. He wishes more than anything that he could take back everything he has done... he wishes there was some way to stop time and go back.

Days pass by without either one speaking to each other. It killed Terzo deep down to not hear from her, to see how she was doing after her accident. Then one day, to his surprise, she shows up at his office door again.

The sight of her is enough to make his heart soar and his chest tightens. Her very presence makes him feel so many different emotions... guilt, shame, happiness, joy... but right now, above all else, he feels gratitude in seeing her again. He looks at her with hope and sorrow all at once. She is the light in the darkness right now, despite what he had done to hurt her. He is so grateful to still have a chance. He speaks softly now, as she is now the most important person in the world to him. "Mio bel tesoro... You came..."

She breathes out, "I will come home. We will take this slow."

He can hardly believe it. His heart takes off like a bird released from its cage, free for all the world to see. He is filled with more joy than he has ever felt, and he can barely contain himself. He wants to run over to her and hug her, hold her, love her, and never let her go... but he remembers what she had said. Go slow. He is okay with that. He will go as slow as he has to go. Whatever it takes... "Are you sure... cara mia?" He speaks softly, still in complete disbelief at her words.

"Yes, Terzo. But, you must prove yourself to me that you mean it."

He takes a deep breath and nods. He understands. Whatever it takes to fix this. He promises himself he will do whatever he has to do. He can feel his heart in his chest, so much joy and relief. He has to be careful... he has to go slow as she says... he's just so happy to have a chance. "Anything... I understand, cara mia. Just... please tell me what you need. I want to prove it to you... whatever it takes... whatever it takes, I will do."

"You must prove that you are sorry for your actions, that you have feelings for me."

He takes a deep breath and looks at her with his eyes filled with remorse. The pain of all the days before all comes back to him. He has never felt such guilt and shame before. He can feel his heart breaking as he speaks, but he wants to fix this. He wants to try and make this right even if it hurts more than he has ever hurt before. He speaks softly and simply, "Cara mia, you know I do. I love you. I really do. More than anything..." his words are filled with so much emotion. They are so honest.

"But how do I know? How do I know that you won’t lie again or be with someone else?"

His heart sinks as he realizes that is a good question. How can he prove it? What else can he say? He thinks for a moment, his mind desperately searching for the perfect words, the right way to prove it. He doesn't respond right away, but finally, after a few long minutes, he speaks. His words are soft, but passionate. "Cara mia, I made the worst mistake of my life... I was afraid, you see?" He pauses for a moment, trying to organize his thoughts. "You are my world... I do not want to ever hurt you again. I promise you, I will never." "I felt so stupid, Terzo. I came to you in hopes of mutual feelings, and you rejected me before I even told you."

He winces when he hears these words. He feels the hurt he caused her and it only serves to make the pain in his own heart worse. He feels awful, that he made her feel stupid. He wants nothing more than to take it all back, to mend everything. He bows his head in shame. "Cara mia, this... this was the worst mistake of my life. I have made so many mistakes, and this one I regret the most..." He sighs and hangs his head in shame. "I was afraid... my fear made me do something so... so selfish..."

She looks at him, her eyes begin to soften, sadness evident. It breaks his heart so her eyes become so soft and sad. He wants to fix this. He wants nothing else more. What he has done is unforgivable. He bows his head again in shame and misery, his eyes filled with the pain of what he has done. The pain in his heart is overwhelming but he still wants to try to make it right, to try and undo this damage, to try to heal her heart and make it so she feels whole again. He is so sorry... so terribly sorry... "What can I do to make this right, cara mia?"

"I just need time. You need to prove it to me you mean this and want this. We must take this slow."

He sighs and looks at her with hope. He has to go slow and prove he means this even though he wants nothing more than to hold her in his arms again, never letting her go. The fear he feels is strong, though. He has already damaged her too much, and he is so scared of causing her any more harm. But he will go slow, whatever it takes... whatever it takes to have another chance... to make this right.

He lets out a deep breath, his heart still full of fear, but also hope. "Do you think you could forgive me?" He speaks softly with a shake in his voice. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. I know I have hurt you... I know how deeply I have hurt you. But I would give anything... I would do anything to fix this... to make you believe me..." He lets out another deep sigh and bows his head low. "You are everything to me. Please... let me try to make it right."

"I wouldn’t be here right now if I couldn’t forgive you. But I need to know how true these feelings are."

His heart lifts again at her kind words. It is true, of course. How could it not be? Is it not written all over his very face? Just looking at her can make him feel so many things all at once... a combination of happiness, guilt, shame, sadness, anxiety, and the overwhelming desire to please her once more. All of these feelings, all of these emotions... all of these thoughts... he hopes that all of it can just show her how true and real it all is to be at her feet. He looks up again at the love of his life. "Tell me... what can I do to."

"I can’t tell you what to do to fix this, Papa. You must figure out yourself what to do. I cannot guide you to love me."

This is hard for him to hear. She is right, of course, he realizes. It still makes him anxious, though... it makes him afraid because... because what if he messes this up? It would only make the situation worse. He thinks for a moment, trying to consider his next words carefully. He must fix this... he must make it right... and he must show her just what she means to him. He speaks carefully now, choosing his words carefully. "I promise you, cara mia, we will take this slow, as you say."

"Trying is the first step, Papa." She smiled warmly at him.

His heart soars when he hears this. He holds her hand gently. "And I promise you as well, cara mia, that I will never stop trying. Never." His voice is so full of love and devotion. This is more important to him than anything else in the world. He has to get this right. He would gladly go through these same painful days to get another chance at fixing it. "Do you... do you believe me?" She looks deep into his eyes, to see his true feelings. The green one pleads for her while the white shows gratitude.

"Yes, my dear Papa."

His whole face lights up with the joy of her words. He smiles softly at her, a genuine smile for the first time in so many days. The pain in his heart has always hurt badly, but for just a moment, it is easier to bear than before. He can feel a tear fall... a tear of joy. His emotions are so strong that he is almost afraid he might burst at the seams. Still, he is careful, and he wants to go slowly as she says. He speaks in a gentle voice, still holding her hand. "I... I love you so much, cara mia..."

"I love you too, Papa."

He takes a deep breath and pulls her in for a soft hug. Every moment with the love of his life is so precious now. He is so overjoyed that he might just lose all control and burst into tears. The joy is beyond words, beyond anything he will ever feel again. The pain of the days before are worth it all just for this moment, just for this chance. He has to do everything right this time. "Thank you, cara mia." He whispers. He takes her hands in his again and looks into her eyes. "I need you. I can't lose you again." She smiles softly at him.

When he sees her smile, he can't help but return it. His heart is still so warm at her words... her feelings are so real, so true. He whispers as he pulls her in close with him once more. "We will take this slow, as you wish..." He leans in to her ear and kisses her cheek. It is such an innocent kiss, but one full of love, full of devotion and hope. He whispers in her ear with a gentle smile, "whatever you want... just tell me... anything you need, I am here for you." She nods at his statement.

"I must go unpack my things and set up my room again. I will see you later?" He nods back, he understands. He will give her the time and space that she needs. But he can't help himself from giving her one more kiss on the cheek before telling her, "If you need anything, please... please just let me know. I am here for you, no matter what you need." He pulls away again to give her space, though he doesn't want to stop holding her. He takes a deep breath before speaking again. "Just know I love you. You are all that matters to me." Then he smiles softly and gently lets go of her hand. She smiles at him as she heads for her room. Her heels clicking on the marble floor once again.

As she walks away, his heart still beats fast, still full of love. He watches the love of his life walk away and he knows he is so lucky to have her. Her soft smile fills him with a sense of euphoria that he never thought he could feel again. He doesn't say anything else, and he gives her the space she needs. He will do whatever he needs just to prove to her he loves her. He just has to give her time.

Hours have passed by, she is found in the garden under the moonlight. He notices her there and quietly watches for a moment, his eyes filled with love for the girl in the moonlight, then he speaks in a soft voice, one that is filled with joy but also with sadness. "Cara mia..." He lets out a deep breath and steps forward. How can this girl be so beautiful? She is so perfect, so lovely, so amazing. He feels such an overwhelming feeling right now and he is not sure how to express his emotions. He walks closer and speaks again. "Why are you out here? Are you okay?"

She giggles softly at his voiced concern. "I am fine, Papa. Just enjoying the stars."

His heart warms at her soft laughter and he smiles softly at her. He loves to hear her laugh, but he also hates that he has caused her any pain... he is so deeply sorry for this. But he is also so very happy she has forgiven him. His heart feels light at her words and he moves over and joins her. He looks up into the stars with her, but he also looks down at the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. His heart is full... full of so many emotions... so much joy and love. He speaks gently now. "You are beautiful, you know that?"

She blushes hard. "So I've been told~" She sings out.

"You are more than beautiful, cara mia. You are... perfection in every way." He lets out another deep breath and looks up at the night sky again. "Do you know how lucky I am to have you?" He whispers. "Do you know how much you mean to me?"

She shakes her head and whispers, "I truly do not, Papa. Tell me?"

He takes a deep breath and speaks in a soft voice, his eyes still on the stars. "You are my world, cara mia. My everything. I don't deserve your love, yet you have given me another chance... and I promise you I will do everything in my power to make it right this time. I can't promise I will ever be able to take back what I have done, but I swear to you you will always... always be everything to me. I just want you to know that." He speaks with such sincerity, such truth, and such love.

The moonlight shines in her eyes as they look at each other. The moonlight is gentle on her eyes, and he looks deeply into them... deep into her soul, a soul filled with so many emotions. He can see it all... the pain and the love and the light and the darkness. He finds himself lost in them, like he could stare into her eyes forever and be content with it. He tries to take a deep breath, but his breath catches in himself once more as he whispers through his tears so soft. "Will you... will you please allow me the chance to become the man you deserve?"

She chuckles again, "Yes, Papa."

His whole face lights up in a smile and his eyes well up with tears of joy. The most beautiful girl in the world, the love of his life, giving him another chance... it is too much. He steps in close and pulls her close in his arms and holds her so tight. He can barely speak due to his tears of joy, but through them, he speaks, the soft words full of love and happiness and all the emotions he is feeling right now. "Thank you, cara mia... thank you." He is so happy. He has to hold her tight, just to believe this is real.

The two sit together in peaceful silence on a plush blanket under the stars. Hours pass by as they enjoy the peace together under the moonlight. For the first time in so many days, the pain in his heart is almost gone. This is so much better, he thinks to himself. He wants to savor every single minute, every single second. He is enjoying the peace and the silence, but he also wants to know... How can I make it up to you? He whispers, breaking the silence. "How can I make this right? I will do anything, you know... anything. I just want to... to spend my life with you."

She glances down, thinking of what to say. He watches her with anticipation, wanting to know what she is thinking. "Take your time... I will wait... as long as it takes... " His heart almost can't take all these ups and downs, all these emotions that are all so strong and so much... but as she thinks, he smiles softly at her and moves a little closer to her. "Just... just let me know..." he whispers lovingly. He looks up into the sky, at the stars, full of hope. How amazing it will be if she will allow him to make things right so they can just be together, like this, forever? She gently grabs his hand, holding it. He feels a sudden rush of electricity through him as she touches his hand. He looks down at her hand, and then looks back up at her. His heart is racing. He looks into her eyes, feeling such affection and such love, all he feels for her right here. His words are almost breathless as he tries to keep himself from saying too much too quickly. He looks into the stars and the moonlight once more, and he nods, as an idea enters his head. "I... I have something for you..." He smiles softly. He is hesitant before he reaches into his pocket.

He reaches into his pocket and takes out what seems to be a black box. He turns to her and looks into her eyes. "Cara mia..." he whispers softly. His tone is loving. He opens the black box, and there in his hand is a beautiful ring. It is black with a small diamond on the center. He smiles softly as he pulls it out of the box and hands it to her. "This is a symbol of my love for you. A symbol of the promises I intend to keep." A tiny tear falls but he is too happy for that to phase him. His heart is brimming with joy.

"Oh, Papa..." She places the promise ring on her finger, shining it under the moon's light. He is on the brink of tears, his heart is so full, full of joy over her acceptance as he feels he has been given another chance. He takes a deep breath and looks into her eyes again. "I will spend the rest of my life proving how truly sorry I am. My heart is yours, Cara mia."

She leaps into his lap and smothers him in kisses. His heart soars, his breath is taken away at her kiss. He can't believe that she accepted his promise. That she is forgiving him... He is just... overcome. He returns her kiss with vigor and passion, holding her close and not letting her go for the longest moment. When he finally pulls back, he whispers into her ear, "I will spend the rest of my life making you happy. I promise you... You will always be my world." He kisses her again gently, a little softer this time but just as loving.

Tears flow down her face as she watches the stars dance on her ring. He wipes the tears from her eyes gently before speaking with tears of his own in his voice. "Is this what you wanted?" The tears on her face cause his own to flow once more, but they are not entirely sad tears... there is a joy to them, to know that she cares so much... he can see it in her eyes. "Is this what you wanted, my love?" He still can't understand how she can love him so deeply, how she could forgive him despite knowing all he has done. His heart fills up with pride that this girl, this wonderful girl, loved him so very truly.

"I mean this is definitely not taking it slow but…yes. Truly my heart wanted this."

His face lights up into a broad smile at her words. She is so perfect. Her response is everything he could hope for. He whispers this time, so softly. He can't say this enough, so his heart is brimming with love as he pulls her close. "Cara mia... thank you. Please... I will never stop thanking you. I will do my best to be what you need." He is so happy... so overjoyed that she has accepted his promises and his promise to live the rest of his life making this girl happy and making it up to her.

Emotions take over, she kisses Terzo passionately. They fall back onto the blanket beneath them. He gives in to the passion, enjoying it so deeply. He is just so elated... so deeply, deeply in love. How is this real? How did he get a second chance? His heart is so full that the kiss itself feels so overwhelming that he almost can't breathe. When they finally break the kiss, he is out of breath... but his eyes are still brimming with tears of joy and he can't stop smiling at her. He loves her more than anything... and he is so proud that he will have the chance to make it right with her.

The kiss, the promises and the ring, the night air, all stirs something in her. She needed her Papa. His heart is racing like crazy... at this moment, he would give anything for her. This is the first step on the long road to fixing things... to proving his love to this girl and making her see that he will do anything for her. Anything but lose her again. He leans in to her and whispers softly in her ear, "I love you, cara mia." He sighs and holds her close. It is all he needs right now. This was a perfect night... a night he had not dared to hope for. He kisses her cheek and whispers again, "I'm so happy... so deeply, deeply happy."

She looks up at him, lust fills her eyes. "Papa?" She asked calmly and gently. His whole face lights up with joy and he can't help but smile at the sound of his nickname in his ears. He gently holds her hand, his eyes warm with his love.

"Yes... my cara mia?" There is a hint of playfulness in his voice, but it is still filled with so much love. He thinks he can't feel any happier... but then she opens her mouth and speaks. And..." do you ever stop being wonderful?" He whispers, a smile on his lips that can't be taken away... one of happiness, one of such love and devotion.

As Terzo looks over at her, she removes her shirt, silently asking for him. The air suddenly seems a little bit warmer and he can't help his eyes from wandering at the sigh of her...all of her...So perfect he thought. He is stunned at the beauty that he has someone been fortunate enough to claim as his own. He is so lucky. When she looks at him, his heart goes a little haywire. "Cara mia"... he whispers, letting out the smallest sigh. How is it possible for her to be so perfect? "You are so beautiful, cara mia..." he whispers, his eyes still filled with love and devotion.

“Papa, take me? Please, make love to me." He nods at her... his face full of love for her. "Of course, cara mia." There is a hint of playfulness in his voice. He gets up while still holding her hand and starts to walk towards the house. When they leave the garden, he whispers to her with all the love that he feels. "How could I say no to you in anything?"

She pulls his arm and stops them from walking. "No, Papa...out here..."

Her voice so soft. He stops himself and he nods again. "Of course, cara mia..." there is a playful smile on his face, but he can't hide the surprise. "You are really naughty, you know?" He gives her a quick smooch. "But... I can also not say no to you." He smiles lovingly at her, and follows her lead.

She kisses him with such passion, getting her hands lost in his raven hued hair, tugging slightly every now and then. Soft moans leave her. This is all she's wanted. He is so taken away and surprised by the sudden show of passion that he gives in to it. His hands find her waist and he leans into her kiss. It sends an electric wave through his body and his heart is racing. How can she be doing this to his heart? He pulls back after a long minute of kissing her... his breath is fast from the passion of it all. They have both been so careful to take it slow, yet this feels so right... so true. He smiles up at her, looking into her eyes, filled with so much love that they shine in the moonlight.

She removes her bra, tossing it aside. Her confidence boosted, remembering the advice he gave her a few weeks ago. He takes a deep breath at the sigh of her. His mouth hung open in surprise, at her broadness, and a little shocked. She takes his hand and guides it to her breast. She moans out as their skin makes contact. He gently massages her breast, letting the moonlight dance off of them. Terzo leans down, taking a nipple into his mouth, nibbling and sucking. His heart races as he feels her. Everything is already going so fast...and he is unsure how this could be possible after everything he's done...but it feels so right. His breath catches in his throat for another moment. He kisses her again, with all the love in his heart. The kiss is filled with a gentle care, with a sense of purpose, but also with an intensity that only grows as the kiss goes on, a passion born out of true love.

She places her hands on his chest, eyes begging him. He notices this and gives in to her eyes, her hands... his breath has already been taken away by her beauty. He can no longer control himself and kisses her deeply. His arms wrap around her tightly. His mind and heart racing once more, overwhelmed with the passion of the moment. He is so completely and utterly devoted to her. She can do whatever she wants...whatever she needs. She reaches around and starts to remove his formal coat, leaving him in his white dress shirt. Black chest hairs pop out from the first few buttons he's left undone. A simple gold necklace lays around his neck, almost contrasting with his skin.

She then unbottons his shirt, revealing his tanned, aged chest. His skin is warm as she runs her hands through his chest hair. His eyes light up when she starts to unbutton his shirt and he watches her with a smile on his face, enjoying the view, but also enjoying the way she is teasing him. "Cara mia..." he whispers softly, his throat a little tight as he feels himself slowly losing all control of himself and his desires. His heart starts beating faster. This is all so good. He feels her touch, he is overwhelmed by the feeling. Her touches make him melt.

She lifts her skirt up and removes her underwear, sitting down on his lap. She grinds against his clothed cock. Her slick leaving a stain on his pants. She can feel his cock begin to harden more and more each time she comes back to him. Terzo is so speechless...so caught off-guard. His face is pink beneath his papal paints. Papa~" She moans out.

"Cara mia..." He replies. He can't help but smile at her, at her calling out like that. "Mio dolce...amore mio..." the words come out as if by instinct.

She ruts harder against him, causing Terzo to moan. A moan he didn't even realize he was holding in. Everything she did so far only got better and better, and now... now this... he was lost again. He is breathing heavily now, his whole body shaking. This... it is too much for him. His heart is bursting with all these feelings for this girl right now. How could he possibly have ever done anything to hurt someone so perfect?

Papa lifts her up and places her next to him, unzipping his pants, letting his hard cock spring free. He then takes out his phone and hits record. He looks up at her with a smile on his face. "You always make me feel this way...cara mia..." She looked at him with such surprise. "You're going to...record us?" She said seductively. He nods, his eyes full of a joyful delight. "Yes... you are so beautiful. I want to remember this...our first time together." The idea of him recording their first time together causes her to whimper.

"It is just a memory for me..." He whispers softly, his eyes full of love for her. "Do you want me to stop?" His heart pounding in his chest. "I promise you...you are the only one who will ever see it..."

She shakes her, "don't stop."

He nods and hes back to recording, he can't stop staring. He has never been so in-love. She is a goddess...a complete goddess. He keeps recording because he wants nothing but to have this moment forever.

She lifts her skirt again and sits on Terzo's naked lap, grinding her wet folds on his leaking cock. His heart melts over her. A soft whimper leaves his mouth.His breath catches in his throat again, all he can do is let out some noises. "...perfect..." His voice is tight and his mind is a complete mess. She slips her hand down and angles his cock into her pussy. Gentle moans come from her. He lets out another sigh. His heart can't take much more of all this beauty and perfection. How was he so lucky to be given a second chance with this goddess? "Oh...cara mia...my heart is just full of you."

A delightful sigh leaves her as she fucks herself on him, at a medium speed. He whimpers at this. "Oh, amore mio..." He whispers into her hair, holding her close. He begins to fuck up into her. Wet, lewd sounds fill the empty air. Terzo tries to keep himself silent. Wanting nothing more than to hear her sounds.

"Make noises, papa...you have such a wonderful voice" She whispers into his ear as she hold on tighter, wrapping her arms around his neck.

If she wants that...then...of couse. No matter what she asks for, it is done for her in an instant. His mind is a complete blank as he lets out a soft whimpering noise...a noise of such love. He lets out another soft moan, the sounds only getting better...his heart is going to explode. He can't even think straight anymore. This is all so very perfect.

"Yesss Papa..." She moans out as she quickens her pace, Terzo wrapping his hands around her waist tightly, leaving finger sized bruises on her hips. Terzo lets out moan after moan, whimper after whimper. Her every move...her every sound...everything causing him to lose his mind...but in the best way possible. With a powerful moan from Papa, he comes into her, hard and deep. A filth moan leaves her as she feels his cum dripping down her leg and onto his lap. His breath catches in his throat at this, lets out another loud moan. He wonders if all this is real. How could this be really happening? He can't help but hug her tight, pressing his whole body against hers...just to make sure this is true, this is real. Their bodies are stick and sweaty in the best way.

Terzo lifts her up, watching his cum flow out of her. A strangled noise catches in his throat at the sight. He lays her back on the blanket, gazing at her body. "So...beautiful.."He whispers. Papa lays flat on his stomach, grabbing her by her thighs and pulls her close to him. The moonlight glistens on her wet folds. He gently rubs his fingers through them, spreading her lips apart. His mouth gapes open at the sight. She smells so sweet, so wonderful. Terzo latches his mouth her swollen clit, swirling his tongue around. She quickly attaches her hands back to his black hair. With each pull, he sucks her clit harder. His finger traces her entrance, spreading his cum and her fluids around. He plunges two fingers in, she screams out at the sensations.

"Yes papa...yes papa..." She moan, grinding her pussy against his face.

Terzo adds a third finger, curling them in just the right spot. He presses his tongue flat against her clit. A high pitched moan, almost a yell, is forced out of her throat. She grabs his head as she cums on his face and fingers. Terzo not stopping until she is overstimulated. A string of saliva keeps him attached her pussy, watching it clentch around nothing as she comes down from her high.

He gives her a small kiss on the cheek and he whispers, his breath still not totally back yet, "I love you." Nothing could compare to this moment. His heart races

. "I love you, too, Terzo." He gives her a long kiss, full of passion, but also with so much love. As he pulls away, he smiles warmly at her. He can't explain what this feeling is he is feeling. He is in such a state of euphoria. She stops the recording and hands him his phone. "I hope you use this video when I'm busy." She winks at him.

He looks at the phone, then at her and smiles. "Oh...I will indeed. It will be my lucky charm...my good luck token." He winks back at her. He can only imagine how many times he will watch it. "Did you want the recording too?" He asked. "Of course, Papa."

A shy smiles comes across his face. The more he looks at her, the more the smile grows. "Our first time together was perfect. I will keep this moment forever." He holds her close again and kisses her lightly on the lips. Papa then gets dressed and drapes the blanket over her, picking her up and taking her to bed. He can't help but smile. He is still speechless and is just enjoying this moment with her. He will never stop loving her.

"You are so beautiful, cara mia." He whispers to her. She blushes at his statement and yawns. How can one person be this perfect? She is beautiful even when she yawns. Her beauty, her perfection...it never ends. He kisses her forehead and his smile is full of all the love for her in the world and then he speaks again, "Sleep well, amore mio. Tomorrow, we have a whole life to spend together."

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