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#and then i had to draw without those traits
lildarkvixen-art · 3 months
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AND IF YOU SEE ME
YOU'RE PARALYZED
PILLAR OF SALT
YOU'RE MUMMIFIED
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catboybiologist · 1 month
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“As a biologist, the terms biological woman and man don’t make any sense to me” okay then you’re an idiot and a terrible biologist. I swear to god, morons like you only become biologists just so you can hold it over others, when in reality, if biology deniers like you can become biologists, then being one really doesn’t mean much anyway. But this probably just gave an autogynophile like you a boner to read, anyway.
Oh fun! Haven't gotten one of these in a while. Disregarding the fact that you somehow think the qualification for being a biologist entirely hinges on defining womanhood, I do need to ask some clarification. I know I'm feeding the trolls here, but here we go: does your definition of "biological woman" mean:
Sociological woman? Eh, context dependent, I'm not fully out of the closet, but oftentimes, I am and present femme. So let's call that one 50/50.
Psychological woman? Because I am one.
Neurological woman? Because I am one [1].
Physical woman? My soft tissue redistribution is handling that well.
Hormonal woman? My blood tests are within cis female ranges.
Transcriptional woman? As a signalling molecule, the downstream effects of estrogen have broad transcriptional effects, completely changing the profile of gene expression and functional genomics of my cells. [2]
Genetic woman? I mean, see my above point- as far as my genes that are actually active, I have all of the same transcripts being produced, controlling which genes are expressed.
Karyotypic woman? I actually have a few signs pre-HRT that might point to a non-XY chromosome pair, but I haven't had a karyotype. We'll put that down as unknown. And hell, even if its XY, there's plenty of cis women who are karyotypically XY, with suppressed sry or complete androgen insensitivity. Interestingly enough, a completely androgen insesitive woman can go her whole life without knowing- and functionally, is very similar to a trans woman, actually. Fancy that. [3]
Reproductive woman? I can't produce an egg cell, but neither can significant fractions of cis women. Also, this is all gonna change soon, which is fun. [4]
There's also a lot of understudied aspects to the biology of HRT and even pre-HRT that are emerging, largely demonstrating widespread cellular and genetic remodeling of trans individuals undergoing hormone therapy. The field is a bit behind due to constant political pressure to revoke funding, but a lot of the results are extremely exciting in both testosterone and estrogen hormone therapies. I'm sure that, as a self professed biology As someone who presumably has a lot of expertise in biology, I'm assuming that you're aware of all of this cutting edge research, and are keeping up with modern papers, including but not limited to these cool findings:
Trans men on HRT exhibit significant genetic and transcriptional changes that make them biochemically male. [5][6]. It's a good hypothesis that the same happens with estrogen treatment, but those studies don't exist yet- I'm sure you're reserving judgment until more publications exist, of course.
Trans men on HRT develop male cell types and tissues. [7]
Trans women experience muscular and blood cell changes that align with cis women moreso than cis men [8]
And many, many more! This is an exciting, underserved, and groundbreaking field of research, and I'm sure you're keeping up with the latest in scientific journals about it.
I'm sure, of course, that you understand that it becomes impossible to draw a distinct line anywhere in here, and that words like "woman" are shorthand for the myriad of traits that invisibly synthesize in our mind and in society to represent a concept? I'm sure you understand that science is fundamentally descriptive, not prescriptive? I'm sure that you understand that these findings, while really cool and interesting, actually don't mean jack shit about what the word "woman" means or not?
As someone who is the ultimate decider in what a biologist is, I'm sure you know that bioessentiallism is a childish mindset that completely ignores and disregards the constantly changing, dynamic nature of biological systems, something that extends well beyond biological sex and its relation to gender.
I'm sure that also, that you understand that beyond just this, that the role of science in society is to advise how to achieve our moral principles, not create moral principles in themselves. And I'm sure that understanding means you know that trans affirming healthcare and supportive societal treatment leads to reduced mortality and increased happiness for everyone, right?
So great to talk to someone who is surely a scientist on this. You are a biologist, if you're talking like this, I assume? I assume you're not going to spit complete misreadings of scientific language from the background sections of these papers that only reveal you've never read a scientific paper in your life if you're thinking this way? I assume you have experience interpreting data like this?
Also, imagining my genitalia while writing this? Ew. Please stop projecting your fetishes into my inbox.
Works cited:
Kurth F, Gaser C, Sánchez FJ, Luders E. Brain Sex in Transgender Women Is Shifted towards Gender Identity. J Clin Med. 2022 Mar 13;11(6):1582. doi: 10.3390/jcm11061582. PMID: 35329908; PMCID: PMC8955456.
Fuentes N, Silveyra P. Estrogen receptor signaling mechanisms. Adv Protein Chem Struct Biol. 2019;116:135-170. doi: 10.1016/bs.apcsb.2019.01.001. Epub 2019 Feb 4. PMID: 31036290; PMCID: PMC6533072.
Gottlieb B, Trifiro MA. Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome. 1999 Mar 24 [Updated 2017 May 11]. In: Adam MP, Feldman J, Mirzaa GM, et al., editors. GeneReviews® [Internet]. Seattle (WA): University of Washington, Seattle; 1993-2024. Available from: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK1429/
Murakami, K., Hamazaki, N., Hamada, N. et al. Generation of functional oocytes from male mice in vitro. Nature 615, 900–906 (2023). https://doi.org/10.1038/s41586-023-05834-x
Pallotti F, Senofonte G, Konstantinidou F, Di Chiano S, Faja F, Rizzo F, Cargnelutti F, Krausz C, Paoli D, Lenzi A, Stuppia L, Gatta V, Lombardo F. Epigenetic Effects of Gender-Affirming Hormone Treatment: A Pilot Study of the ESR2 Promoter's Methylation in AFAB People. Biomedicines. 2022 Feb 16;10(2):459. doi: 10.3390/biomedicines10020459. PMID: 35203670; PMCID: PMC8962414.
Florian Raths, Mehran Karimzadeh, Nathan Ing, Andrew Martinez, Yoona Yang, Ying Qu, Tian-Yu Lee, Brianna Mulligan, Suzanne Devkota, Wayne T. Tilley, Theresa E. Hickey, Bo Wang, Armando E. Giuliano, Shikha Bose, Hani Goodarzi, Edward C. Ray, Xiaojiang Cui, Simon R.V. Knott, The molecular consequences of androgen activity in the human breast, Cell Genomics, Volume 3, Issue 3, 2023, 100272, ISSN 2666-979X, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.xgen.2023.100272. (https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2666979X23000320)
Xu R, Diamond DA, Borer JG, Estrada C, Yu R, Anderson WJ, Vargas SO. Prostatic metaplasia of the vagina in transmasculine individuals. World J Urol. 2022 Mar;40(3):849-855. doi: 10.1007/s00345-021-03907-y. Epub 2022 Jan 16. PMID: 35034167.
Harper J, O'Donnell E, Sorouri Khorashad B, McDermott H, Witcomb GL. How does hormone transition in transgender women change body composition, muscle strength and haemoglobin? Systematic review with a focus on the implications for sport participation. Br J Sports Med. 2021 Aug;55(15):865-872. doi: 10.1136/bjsports-2020-103106. Epub 2021 Mar 1. PMID: 33648944; PMCID: PMC8311086.
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murdrdocs · 1 year
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plsss do fem!reader getting a call from ethan!ghostface 😩 could be smutty or maybe 16+!! also ur writing is so good wtf
ahhh thank you so so much i'm glad u enjoy it! i rlly liked this request :)) this is SUGGESTIVE 16+ but not smut
Sometimes, truly, if you sit in silence for long enough, you start to consider that maybe you aren’t the best person, morals wise. 
You have your good qualities: helping old ladies cross the street, dog sitting for your friends, helping out sick relatives, doing good deeds without having to be told so. 
But the one bad trait, the one you were currently indulging in, seemed to outweigh everything that was good about you. 
Allowing some sick joke between you and your boyfriend to continue. 
As soon as Ethan switched from his usual, saccharine sweet voice, to the raspy, demanding tone of Ghostface, you should’ve told him to knock it off. Seriously. Not with that light, airy tone in your voice that showed how easily persuaded you are. 
But you couldn’t help but let him convince you to continue. Plus, you could’ve pretended that you hated it. Instead…
“Isn’t your line supposed to be: ‘What’s your favorite scary movie’?” 
Ethan, or Ghostface, chuckled. 
“See, you know the rules, sweetheart. Now, what’s your favorite scary movie?” 
You took a second to think, fiddling with the half completed puzzle that you and your roommates have been working on at the coffee table for two weeks now. 
“Probably Get Out. Does that count?” 
“Is that the one by that comedian, Jordan Peele?” 
“Yeah. It’s not really that scary, which is why I like it, but the plot and storyline is horrifying enough.” 
Ghostface hums and you decide to take a leap. 
“My boyfriend likes those traditionally scary movies, with the jumpscares and excessive gore.” 
He takes the bait. “Boyfriend? You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.” 
“You didn’t ask.”
You take a seat on the couch, your eyes glancing over the window. Briefly, you considered drawing the curtains, but then Ghostface continued to speak. 
“Hm, maybe I should’ve. Does he treat a pretty girl like you right?” 
“Yeah, yeah, he does.” A beat. “How do you know I’m pretty?” 
“Because I’m looking at you, sweetheart.” 
Your breath hitched. You should have known as much, but just considering the possibility is one thing, having it confirmed is another. 
Attempting to play it cool, you stand to your feet and approach the window. “Really? Because I’m calling bullshit.” 
You pressed your face to the glass and used the hand that didn’t hold your phone to your ear to shield your view from the light inside of your apartment. You scanned the streets below, the windows across from yours, and anything else your eyes could reach, but you couldn’t see anything. It was late, there wasn’t much activity in your complex, and the streetlight that previously illuminated your section of the complex was still out. 
Ghostface chuckled condescendingly. “There’s no point in looking. You won’t find me.” 
Stepping away from the window, you surveyed the apartment. Nothing there, save for the organized mess left by yourself and your roommates. 
“But you can trust my word. I see how delicious you look in that little number. That tight shirt, those tiny shorts. Looking like a whore, begging to be fucked,” he spat the last bit as if the words were venomous. "maybe gutted," he toyed with the idea, “your boyfriend know you walk around like that?” 
Your eyes met the cameras in your apartment, the ones that your roommates decided were needed in this big city. You’d never been more thankful to have them. 
“He does,” you took a seat on the couch again, propping your feet up onto the coffee table and positioning yourself to where you could be seen by the camera. Your legs crossed, and you ran a hand along your thigh. “And he loves it. If he could see me right now I bet he would be cumming in his pants.” 
There was a hitch in his voice, barely noticeable, but there. 
You took his hesitation to spread your legs and trail a hand down to the waistband of your shorts. Your eyes flitted up to the camera, you smiled softly, lifted your hand in a wave, then stuck it into your shorts. 
“You said you’re watching me, right, Ghostface?”
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dsknsk · 23 days
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I love how PM keeps playing with tropes. We've seen the tropes that they deconstruct within Limbus (in fact, it is a theory of mine that each Sinner is based on a stereotypical character from gachas), the way that they pick up the cyberpunk trope and basically throw it across the room, but another huge one is...
Carmen.
Look. I think that Carmen was and is based on the traditional 'Mary Sue'. Because...well, some traits that are said to belong to the 'Mary Sue', are turned brilliantly on their head by PM. So, for typical 'Mary Sue' traits, there's:
Pretty in the traditional sense. 'Mary Sues' always look perfect, peerless and never have to work hard to maintain their image. While, as far as I know, there hasn't really been made an in-universe compliment on Carmen's physical appearance...you'd rather stop and listen to someone who at least looks like they can be trusted wouldn't you? She's likened to the sun, as Oswald called her that, and is inside the light. (Also, out-of-universe: she is certainly pretty in my eyes. She adheres to the modern beauty standards at the very least).
Related to the above: charming. The 'Mary Sue' often has an innate charm that attracts others to her. The way that Carmen has this is through her voice, which already was powerful enough to let her traverse the dangerous Backstreets unarmed, standing out from all those other Backstreets preachers somehow and draw in the most cynical noblemen, but is even more charming after death. She doesn't even need to give a breaking speech or anything, as we've seen, she just gives you questions and comments on things. Which falls in line with...
Powerful, yet without having to break a sweat. Even before dying, she was already drawing in people without having to get physical (at least, none we know of). The only time we fight her as of yet (Kether realisation), Angela needs to use an attack that depletes all her HP to win, after five phases have already passed.
The 'Mary Sue' is often a so-called spotlight stealer. She will have a major role in the story, inexplicably, at least one other character will fall in love with her and she will overall have a large presence. So far, Carmen is the only character who has appeared in all three of the games, and if you count the Distortion and the Library, she has influenced WonderLab, Leviathan and Distortion Detective as well. She was also relevantly connected to the main cast of LobCorp and has influenced most of them in some way (i.e Ayin, Angela, Giovanni, arguably Kali, etc.). She remains to be relevant to several major story turns and has left her mark in them, in some way.
Unusual eyes. It's a stereotype that 'Mary Sues' always have unusual eyes. A common type is heterochromia (which is why I often jokingly call Hong Lu a 'Mary Sue'), but other types exist like sparkly rainbow or them changing like a mood ring or something. Carmen has red eyes, which are a common side-effect of body enhancements (Vergilius had them and the R Corp pack leaders too)...except, as we said, for as far as we know, Carmen hasn't had any. They are also a trait of Bloodfiends, but she isn't (yet) confirmed to be one. Either way, red eyes are a sign of the not-weak in the City.
Oftentimes, 'Mary Sues' are referred to as divinity, as pure grace from an utmost high all-powerful deity. They may or may not even be that deity. With Carmen, she practically had a cult of personality around her when she was alive...and she also had an analogue in another pale-skinned, red-eyed being that is also treated like this. She was described as this paeon of altruism and someone who genuinely wants the best for humanity.
Meaningful name. While not so immediately on-the-nose like 'Flowersparkle', Carmen's name can be seen as a reference to the infamous prototype of the femme fatale, once again hinting at that charming quality of hers.
Perfect. A 'Mary Sue' never fails at what she does...and that's where PM shows through that...
...Carmen is a parody on the 'Mary Sue'. A so-called 'Parody Sue'...but not played for laughs. The thing is that she is described as being all this...by those she already has enthralled. Those that aren't really involved with her - Hokma (was more loyal to Ayin), Binah (who wasn't in the picture during Carmen's life), and Roland (a stranger to LobCorp to begin with) have their say during Ruina and offer us another view at Carmen, our first, and one thing becomes clear:
A real 'Mary Sue' would be weird as fuck.
Carmen shows us how weird a 'Mary Sue' would actually be in a world that isn't sunshine and rainbows - an extremely uncanny, severely misguided being who nonetheless draws people to herself, who show a creepy amount of belief and devotion to her. Carmen thinks that the 'be yourself' message - so omnipresent in media - should prevail...in a world where the majority of people are either pieces of shit or are living such a dreary, miserable life that they just give up all hope.
But all of this is only revealed in the second game and pulls the player out of the dream. And so, Carmen does end up failing to convince some people like Dongbaek and Dongrang who manage to develop E.G.O instead.
Because despite what she was painted as in the past, in reality, Carmen is not a 'Mary Sue'. And she is not perfect.
That's why she's such a great PM character.
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marcusakito · 3 months
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Lyney Cat Hybrid Boyfriend HCs (Sfw and Nsfw)
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I blame my friend for inspiring me to write this. But I still had fun thinking about it, so was it really that bad?
Lyney x Fem!Reader
CW: Minors DNI, Slight Yandere (Just to be safe I'll add that), Biting(?), Rough Sex, Breeding, Penetration, and technically a monster cock.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
SFW:
I really wanna believe Lyney is a cat hybrid like his sister Lynette. Perhaps he takes a special suppressant that makes his cat features less prominent.
His ears would be small enough to be completely flush in his hair, and his tail small enough to hide in his clothes. The only thing visible in his cat trait would be his eyes. The glow in the dark, and see just as well in the dark too.
Why would he do that? Having one cat on stage makes it special, unique, don't you think having two makes it less so?
Of course like most medicine, I doubt taking the suppressant constantly would be healthy. He has a few days where he doesn't take them.
So imagine your surprise when his cat ears spring up, and being in casual clothes, his tail moves freely around.
Yes, he'll allow you to touch them. But only if you promise to be gentle.
If you pet his head and scratch his ears, he'll be snuggling up against you and purring. Same goes for when you sleep together.
What a clingy cat. But that's what makes him adorable, no?
If he purrs, he definitely hisses. He's learned to surpress that since he was young, but if he gets jealous towards someone... Well now, he can't help it at that point.
He'd have the urge to scratch their face off, but he resists doing that. That would be rather... Unbecoming of his charismatic self. Besides, he has other possible ways of handling things.
That is, to show outwardly open affection to you. Prove to that person you're his.
Just like any other cat, Lyney's stomach is a sensitive spot. Very, very ticklish and he doesn't mind if you wanna tickle him, he trusts you! Just don't tickle him out of surprise when you're outside, he might accidentally scratch you.
He'll be sure to give a thousand apologies for it though. And maybe a rose or two.
NSFW:
MASSIVE BREEDING KINK.
He can't help himself, it's his primal instincts taking over when you two have intercourse.
His cock is a little thinner than average, 6", bulbous and red tip, and extremely sensitive. His dick has rough, rounded barbs around the base of his shaft.
Those barbs rubs against your walls and clit just right. It was an unexpected pleasure for the both of you, since they were sensitive for Lyney, and it makes him cum pretty easily even without much stimulation.
He retracts his claws (His nails) so they won't hurt you when he plunges them into your hole to finger you. But he'd use them to sensually graze his nails softly too.
His favourite position is doggystyle (Or rather, catstyle?) And prone bone, but he wouldn't mind other positions. He just knows that particular one makes him certain you'll be properly bred.
He'll either hold you by your hips or pin your hands above your head, with his chest pressed against your back. He'll praise you for doing so well, how well you'll take his seed, and for the beautiful bump for when you bear his children.
The thought of you pregnant just riles him up and turns him on.
He's got naturally high libido, but oh boy, good luck during his heat cycle.
He'll be clingy, snuggling against you constantly that you'll have to shove him off. That doesn't stop him, though.
And once you're home, well...
He'll be thrusting into you roughly, overstimulating you over and over again to cum inside you without a moment of rest.
And if you try to get away and act up? He's not above biting you at the back of your neck.
It's his cat instincts needing you to stay longer. Even after you've had what, 5 orgasms and a ton of his load in you?
He'll realize what he did and make up for it later by drawing you a bath or patching it up.
Mandatory snuggles after sex. No exception.
And he'll be keeping his dick inside of you all night. You don't mind cockwarming, do you? He's just making sure not to waste a single drop of his semen inside you.
Hope you don't mind not walking for a while. Don't worry, Lyney's taking care of you well throughtout the mating season.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
Hope you enjoyed my hcs! I was thinking of writing more monster(?) Human headcanons, not limited to animal hybrids. It's just fun to think of the possibilities.
If you have any concerns or suggestions, feel free to give a comment or ask!
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anantaru · 10 months
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MAYBE I SHOULD OR MAYBE I SHOULDN'T
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — after your first date with kaveh, there was something particular yet scary that the both of you simply couldn't ignore.
— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 800ish words
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — fluff, very sweet, kissing, early relationship (first date), a lil awkward but he's got the spirit, gn! reader
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there was a lump in kaveh's strained throat, of the size of a cherry pit and he hasn't been able to get rid of it all passing day— you cannot discern it on your own and he hoped that you wouldn't notice that he had been nervous this entire time.
at the end of the day, it was your first date together and the blonde had tried his ultimate hardest to show off all his exciting and confident traits.
nobody could save him from the established chain reactions moving inwardly, set in stone in his colorful mind. kaveh was a creative individual and he had a way with words, he bleeds on paper when he draws, pouring his soul onto the a blank canvas until it turns alive, he shows his feelings but can get desperately tongue tied when in front of someone he desired to impress.
agitated receptions where the fundamental causes he had suffered from, from nothing more than having you close beside him.
a date, again, what had seemed so pure and virtuous, was slowly shining to its very ends with the night emerging, the occasional barking of faraway dogs around sumeru city breaking the silence which was savaging the air between.
and even after he had decided to walk you home, you stay still in front of your door, as if, something essential was missing, more and more.
"there we are." the man truly was patient, and scared.
yet how was he so quiet about it? for the desire to kiss your lips.
how could he, keep his heart closed off in his chest? when all it wanted was to flee.
or his eyes, those scarlet eyes, surely kaveh wouldn't say it out loud, but his expression was telling. horrible discreet, that's a sufficient way of calling it.
but it's persistent in its silence, and kaveh didn't see that you had ached for the same, he thought about it but wouldn't want to cross any boundaries with you.
and then, under the boundless, glowing stars stretched in infinity, he sees you and imagines to have you embraced in his arms, a pure fantasy as such was like he held all the celestial bodies close to his heart.
you, on the other hand, have decided now, to maybe, not go in for that kiss you sought after, rather go inside and call it a night. but as you turn around to open the door, kaveh gently, yet swift, grabs your wrist into his palm, stalling your way home.
"wait." he gulps, knowing he had just witnessed his body move on its own, "wait." kaveh says it again, this time slower, more controlled and he holds your wrist and pulls you towards him.
like it was nothing, like it has to be that way, he did it as easily as holding down a butterfly.
you find comfort in his subtle trace and step forward, watching how his deep red eyes now held a perception of delight, "yes?"
some days, you felt everything at once while others, you feel nothing at all, but right this second, you catch yourself becoming addicted to the man who had made up his mind.
he coughs, "do you think—" maybe he has misjudged the situation, perhaps he can still walk away but how accomplish that without making an utter fool of himself.
"yes."
fighting for another mouthful of air, you repeat yourself, "yes." feeling almost lightheaded as the hand around your wrist loosened to slide and cup your warm cheek.
the dream flickered, becoming reality when kaveh moves closer to slowly place his lips on top of your own yet not before making sure of it again, remained eye contact and a subtle nod giving him permission to proceed; shivering, increased with a rapid heart rate but you take the chance to draw him near as well, trembling hands weaving into his soft hair.
his tongue clumsily pokes at your bottom lip before you part your mouth, feeling how he's readjusting his posture, just right so he could welcome you in his arms.
kaveh's face was burning at the thought of what was happening right now and the way you'd skillfully circle your tongue over his own while whining silently into a breathless moan.
was he insane? no, this is insane.
he should be figuring out on what to say next, when will the kiss end and how will he survive the somewhat plausible possibility of things becoming awkward right afterwards? right after you pull away.
still, despite the chaos in his mind, he accepts and tries to remember this for his entire life. you're pressed up against a muscular body that only got warmer as time passed by— while you, well, you never wanted it to end, and it's making your knees weak as your ears detect a slight pitch of a whine slither right past them ..
.. finding it hard to stay restraint, when this situation was exactly how it's meant to be.
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©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work
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muzansfangs · 1 year
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Guilty pleasure.
Starring: Muzan x f!reader; Nakime (mentioned), Kagaya Ubuyashiki (mentioned), Shinobu (mentioned), Kanae (mentioned) Enmu, Yoriichi Tsugikuni.
Warnings: nsfw, murder, traumatic events from a child perspective, death, violence, gore, loss of parents, implied adoption, implied stalking, oral sex (reader receiving).
Plot: Talking with his seventh in command, Muzan reminisced about his past, about you and how you had always been his greatest weakness. While a particular Slayer is searching for you, Muzan bent his knee to you and showed you a side of him you, deep down, hoped to see. He cared about you a little more than he allowed you to know, apparently, and you once again feel lost into this crazy whirlwind of contrasting emotions.
PART 1| PART 2| PART 3| PART 4| PART 5| PART 6| PART 7
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
MEMORIES.
"What do we know about her?" Muzan asked, lighting up a cigarette as he stared at the photograph of the purple-eyed slayer who had dared to put your life in danger. She was no different from the other ones they had taken down throughout the years: a prick destined to fall by his hand, a girl whose name was going to be forgotten by the world, once she had exhaled her last breath. Who was she again? A slayer.
Who were The Slayers?
The Slayers, right, a pack of mangy dogs without a life purpose who spent their time trying to get his head, young people wasting their youth to serve that man. Every single time The Moons captured one of the swordsmen, they all said the same thing: "Muzan Kibutsuji is a monster, he deserves to die".
He was not offended. He pitied them, instead. How could they be so blind to see that Ubuyashiki Kagaya, and his father before him, asked them to stain their hands in blood, to commit the same crimes he, the devil himself, the infamous Muzan Kibutsuji, had been accused of? The thing was they surely fought for opposite ideals, but when the sun set, they were the same.
Why? Because two people pointing a gun, pulling the trigger, washing the blood of their victim away from their faces, were always going to be murderers. It did not matter why they did it, or how they dealt with their conscience, they were killers.
Now, looking at that girl, he wanted nothing more than tearing her apart limb from limb, for she had had the audacity of putting your life in danger. You, the girl he was going to marry, the one who had touched some strings of his heart no one had ever found, the good omen in his life. There was only one thing he was absolutely certain about: he would have always protect you.
Even if it meant dying for you.
"Her name is Shinobu Kocho, Master. – the seventh in command cooed – Her code name is Belladonna. Apparently, she is best known for poisoning her victims" he singsonged, drawing another photograph from his folder and sliding it down Muzan's desk.
The raven-haired man narrowed his eyes at the girl portrayed in it. She seemed a few years older than the other Slayer, but she had some physical traits in common with her. Were they perhaps related in some way? He had a feeling he had seen her face before. Those twinkling, kind, pink eyes felt familiar.
"She is the reason why Balladonna attacked Douma and Miss. L/N yesterday—" the Moon continued, only to be cut off by Muzan.
His plum red eyes blazed in a sinister glint, until they almost seemed to have darkened for his evident irritation "Mrs. Kibutsuji, Enmu" he deadpanned, watching the way his subordinate prostrated himself in front of him, his dark bob swinging around his heart-shaped visage.
"I beg your pardon, Master! – Enmu pleaded him, his turquoise eyes transfixed on the polished black derby shoes of the raven-haired man in front of him – I did not mean to offend you and your lovely fiancé" he apologetically cried out, not daring to flick his gaze up to face his cantankerous boss. He knew how cruel Muzan could be, he knew he would have not stopped when blood spilled, or a bone broke. They were nothing more than toys for him. Oncr they were broken, he threw them away without hesitation.
Muzan scoffed, reaching his hand out to put off the cigarette on the silver ashtray "Spit it out then. You are wasting my time, Enmu Tamio. – he stated, grasping the photo and turning it towards the terrified boy – Who is this other girl?".
The seventh in command gulped down forcefully, eyes landing on the the girl's smiling face in the photo, as he nodded his head absent-mindedly "Her name was Kanae Kocho. She was Belladonna's older sister. Douma kidnapped, tortured and killed her in hope she would have revealed her colleagues's identities. She did not say anything, except that her sister would have come for our heads sooner or later. – he explained, a tear rolling down his right cheek – I was there too. I recorded everything".
It was only then, when Enmu mentioned the fact that she had been killed by Douma, that he remembered her. Peony, she was Peony. He had specifically given the order to murder her, after they had reported the news of her being a Slayer and wandering around a certain area of the city: your neighborhood. Her shifts dangerously coincided with your homecomings from the restaurant where you worked.
He could not let you two interact. Not after he had found you again after all those years. You were his greatest weakness, his remorse. His humanity. The idea of having killed you too that night, under the pouring rain, had tormented him for years. He would have never forgotten your big doe eyes filled with tears. You had not changed. The terrorized look you had whenever you were scared was the same you had shot in his direction in the middle of the night, when you screamed out your father's name as his dead body slumped down on the muddy ground.
Your eyes had haunted him for years.
When he saw you all those years later, jogging down the sidewalk, he knew you were not just a random girl. He did not imagine it was you, though. The kid whose life he had crashed the night he officially succeded his father and swore to take the lead of the Country. He had to see you again, he had to know who you were, you had to be his to protect and keep by side forever.
When Douma had showed him the first picture of you he had taken, he immediately focused on your eyes. It was you then. It was the kid he had to kill. It was Y/N L/N.
It was Y/N Ubuyashiki, the sin staining Kagaya's name.
And it was yesterday, when you stared at him in horror, fearing for your life, that he understood that he could not keep the eye-contact with you. He could not keep up with you, he could not see you staring at him as if he was a monster, like you had said that night. Therefore, he had blindfolded you.
If only you knew how deeply he cared about you. He cursed the fate day and night for having made him fall for you, his enemy's daughter. He was going mad. You were a black diamond, enticing him with your attitude and beauty.
You, how dare you to make him fall for you with every minute you spent together?
Muzan scowled, his plum red eyes darting on the display of his phone on his desk. You had apparently texted him a few minutes ago, but he was too busy reminiscing about the past to hear the sound of the nitification.
"Leave" he flatly said, grabbing his phone and turning his back at the knelt man in front of him to make him plainly clear that his presence was no longer required.
Enmu flinched at the sound of his voice and hastily stood up, bolting for the door with his heart thrumming into his chest. A coward, that was how Muzan saw him. A talented hypnotist, indeed, but a rabbit running into his burrow as soon as danger flinged around the room.
Once he was alone, Muzan sat on his armchair and unlocked his screen to read your message. He expected you to thank him for the bank transfer, or asking him more about the plans for the night. What he did not expect was a picture of Nakime, staring blankly at the camera, and your comments below.
YOU: Hi, Muzzie! Care to explain what the fuck she's doing here? :)
YOU: Also, thanks for the gifts and the money but, honestly, I'd really appreciate it if you gave me some privacy back. If I am not mistaken, the fourth clause of the contract specifically grants a car for me to use. Where is it?
Muzan smirked. You were really as smart as he thought you were. But he loved playing with you to test your nerves.
MUZAN: Earn it, love.
You did not take a long time to reply and he found himself smiling at the display once again, eager to read what you had to say.
YOU: How? Do I have to kill for you? Whose head do you crave to use as a footrest?
He would have never ever let you be a monster. You were an angel, a pure soul. He killed in your name, but he would have never ever asked of you to take someone's life for him. You were his pride and joy. Therefore, before going back to work on his pc, he typed a simple reply.
MUZAN: That's romantic, love. But I'm fine. Just get on all four tonight, it will suffice.
Cheeks beet red, nails digging onto the palms of your hands, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. There was no way in the world you were going to wear that thing for him. You liked some good lingerie, but that was definitely too much. You felt naked, the silky black choker around your neck was making you feel like a courtesan. The suspenders, the lace thong and the bra were doing numbers on you.
What did he have in store for you? After all, he had promised you that you would have talked about his bodyguards, about him and about The Slayers.
If he thought you were just going to moan his name all night long, he was wrong. Grabbing your phone, you called him. You were not going to wear these slutty undergarments to pamper his ego. Reaching one hand behind your back to unclasp the bra, you kept your phone pressed to yout ear with the other and patiently waited for Muzan to pick up the phone.
"I guess you've found my gift, haven't you?" his hoarse voice finally pierced your ears after the third ring, earning a sight from you.
"Yes, I have, and I'm not going to wear this shit. I don't care if it's a 'Victoria's secret' limited collection. I still have my dignity" you complied, struggling to get the with the item off of you. As long as you hated it, you perfectly knew that it was expensive and you did not want to ruin it out of irritation.
You heard Muzan humming "It's not something supposed to stay on for a long time, love. – he reasoned, as you finally discarded the bra back onto the box huffing and puffing – What are you doing, anyway?" he curiously asked, making you roll your eyes at his comment.
"Nothing inappropriate, don't worry. I'm just going to take a shower" you replied, settling the phone on the bed and selecting the loudspeaker as you proceeded in slipping your fingers underneath the waistband of your underwear to drag them down your thighs.
However, the call ended with a click but Muzan's voice sounded too close to you "I'm just in time, then" he cooed from the threshold, making an high-pitched scream leave your lips, arms reaching up to cover your exposed chest from his vicious eyes immediately. Zero privacy, as per usual.
You blushed and took a few steps back, your eyes daggers on the man stripping off of his jacket "Hands down, Y/N. It's nothing I haven't seen before" he promptly remarked, turning towards the door and locking it.
"You're a pervert" you spat, averting your eyes from him.
Muzan quirked his eyebrow up, loosening the knot of his tie and throwing it on the floor carelessly, his fingers then working on the buttons of his shirt "I haven't showed you all my kinks yet, love. Don't be so rude. I'm much worse than that" he jested, irking you.
You exhaled through your nostrils and stormed to the bathroom, in hope to lock the door and leave him behind, but Muzan had understood your poor strategy and, before you could reach your destination, he had his hands around your waist. You yelped, your naked back pressed against his firm abs sent shivers down your spine, but the way the way his hands cupped your breasts, replacing your shaking ones, was something else.
"Can we try to get along? – he whispered in your ear, planting a kiss below your jaw – I don't like it, when you're mad at me" he hotly said, resting his chin on the top of your shoulder.
"If you stopped being a jerk, I would stop being a brat" you retorted, trying to resist his charm.
"What do I have to do to make you like me?" Muzan asked, a smug smirk gracing his lips as he rested his hands down your hips and spun you around to face him. Now, staring deep into his eyes, it was hard saying no. It was hard denying him what he was asking of you.
You batted your eyes close for a second, your fingertips grazing the outline of his abs "Show me that you like me too" you said breathless, almost regretting it. Why did you ask him such a thing? He oughted you no devotion, or romantic commitment after all.
You did not expect him to take you seriously. You did not expect him to grasp your chin and capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss again. Yet, when his tongue slipped into your mouth and he softly helped you to lay down on the bed behind you, there was something that made you feel like he was truly trying to convince you of something, of proving his intentions and feelings.
When his lips parted from yours, his hand slipping down underneath your panties, he locked his eyes with yours "Has anyone ever gone down on you?" he asked in a whisper, making your breath hitch in your throat.
No. The answer was no, naturally. You had gone down on someone a few times, but no one had ever done it for you. Not even your ex, Sanemi.
"N-No" you murmured, turning your face to the side in embarrassment.
Muzan cupped your cheek in his hand, his thumb stroking the area above your cheekbone lovingly "May I have the honor to be your first once again?" he asked you, watching the way your eyes widened slightly and how you nodded your head at him. He had asked for your consent. Not that you never had given him it, but it was hot, it was intimate.
"You don't have to, you know?" you told him, watching how he worked on the suspenders and dragged every last piece of item you were wearing down your legs.
Muzan's hands ran up and down your thighs, parting them gently, as he laid his body flatly on the mattress. His hot breath fanned your heat and you bit your lower lip in anticipation, as he placed a soft kiss on your clitoris.
"I want to" he simply said, before he ran his tongue down your slit.
You jolted, sparks of electricity pervading your body as he started lapping up at your arousal with swirls of his expert tongue. How many times had he done it? Probably, too many to count. Yet, you were aloof from knowing that you were the only woman he was enjoying going down to, the only one he had offered his skills to without feeling any kind of pressure.
Why? Because it was you and you were different for him.
His pace was torturously slow, his mouth wrapped around your bundle of nerves, sucking on it, flicking his tongue around it, made whimpers and soft moans fall from your lips as your hands gripped the bedsheets at your sides tightly.
Arching your back, you glanced down at him. Muzan met your gaze, his red eyes pinning you on the spot as he gave you a look of your juices running down his chin, glistening under the artificial light of the chandelier. You blushed and he grinned, grasping your legs and settling them over his shoulders.
"You taste heavenly" he purred against your pussy, before sticking his tongue deep into your clenching hole.
You squirmed, hands flying up to your face to shield yourself from his attentive eyes. You felt ashamed for fhe lewd faces you were making. Did you really miss that much? Or was it just Mr. Kibutsuji talent?
"Muzan—" you whined, tears peeking at the angle of your eyes as your partner's grip on your hips intensified. You felt the a familiar pressure coiling into your lower abdomen and the idea of releasing on Muzan's tongue made you both thrilled and bashful. What if he did not like it? What if he did not want you to cum?
But, actually, the way he stimulated every right spot of your clitoris, the way he held your body close to his face, was a clear sign that he aspired to. He groaned against your entrance, your legs squeezing his head as you ended up climaxing on his sinful tongue.
He lapped away your essence and you trembled under the overstimulation, your chest raising and falling erratically as you stared at the ceiling in haze. What had just happened? Why did he let you enjoy yourself that much? Why did he satisfy your fantasies, if you should have been the one doing it?
You lifted yourself up on your elbows, glancing up at the dark-haired man unbuckling his belt at the end of the bed. The prominent tent in his pants looked uncomfortable and you blushed, crawling towards him with the most grateful and kind expression on your face that made his heart skip a beat in his chest. You could not look that cute and beautiful at the same time.
"T-Thank you... – you whispered, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear – Can I help you take care of..." you trailed off, darting your eyes away from the bulge in his boxers, threatening to nudge at your nose. You had not realised how close to it you were, until you had flicked your gaze up to meet his intense gaze.
Muzan chuckled, his calloused hand ruffling your hair jokingly "You don't have to thank me. – he said, his eyes darkening all of a sudden – But you can follow me into the shower. I feel like if I fucked you right now the way I had planned, you would seriously need me to carry you around for a week" he hoarsely commented, making your heart drop into your stomach.
What was wrong with him?
In the meanwhile, maroon eyes studied your empty house. It seemed like you had not been home for a few days. Everything was perfectly tidy, but the majority of your clothes were gone from the drawers, from your wardrobe. Your books were no where to be seen and the fridge was empty.
The tall man sighed, entering your bedroom in search for any clue of where you had gone. Little did he know where you were, but when Kagaya had called him last night to ask for his help again, he had refused to believe it.
You, the sweet and innocent girl he had rescued that night, were now siding with a monster? How did he convince you to follow him? How could you possibly love him?
Yet, when he spotted a white shirt with a reddish stain on its sleeve, he grasped it. Inhaling the dull track of scent still impregnating the fabric, he cussed. Reality finally dawned to him at the smell of the wine ruining the snow-white shirt. It was a Chianti. He knew exactly who loved sipping glasses of Chianti.
Muzan Kibutsuji had taken you away and Yoriichi Tsugikuni was going to bring you back home.
AUTHOR NOTE.
Hi there! I am honored to finally introduce the knight in the shiny armor: Yoriichi Tsugikuni. Now, Muzan and oral sex are something else for me. Y/N is a lucky pal, although her past is … ehm, a little crazy, you know? And there’s so much more to know about it muhahah. I love angsty shit, don’t I?
Anyway, let me know what you think about the chapter and thank you so much for reading this fan fiction 😭❤️
Tag list: @tired-writer04 @hjjks @kakuchosbff @yazzzmints @bookandstar @z3r0art @cherrymanhuas @kazuhasslvt @selenenyx0124 @infinitedilf @yunixkill @shigarakithings @i-loveyou013
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karugoround · 7 months
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Nagizuru au creatures ~ probably their most normal drawings ever.
🩶
Today marks one year since I made my first Nagizuru post. I never thought I would love this beast so much. Thank you all so much for enjoying this au!
Here you have a small lighthearted fic written by @draconicsparkle as a gift. It's not connected to the original story, just them celebrating a regular birthday. They spoil them too much! ⬇️⬇️
How long had it been since then? So long. Both the creation date and their escapes. But in a strange way, Hajime was glad they had experienced all those hardships and difficult times. For without them, the two of them wouldn’t appreciate the bliss they were living in nearly as much.
Hajime thought this as his one working eye stared out the window in the small kitchen. The garden was visible from here, where all kinds of flowers and plants were growing. Gardening was one of Izuru’s many talents, after all. It would be odd if it wasn’t growing splendidly.
A small smile grew as he recalled the many hours they had spent sitting in the gazebo they had built in the middle of the garden, sandwiches and lemonade in hand while the butterflies and bees flew by.
But today wouldn’t be spent in the garden. No, Hajime had other plans. Hence why he was in the kitchen earlier in the morning. Izuru was still in their bedroom, sleeping away without sedatives. He wouldn’t dare wake him up, even now when they were far away from the Lighthouse’s rubble.
He bent down to check the oven’s window, pleased to see the cake sheets baking nicely. He grabbed an oven mitt and pulled the pans out, sliding them on the cooling rack. They were the perfect shade and smelled amazing. While they cooled, the brunette got busy preparing the whipped cream and cutting the strawberries he had picked yesterday. He focused hard on his task, not stopping until his creation was fully constructed. A beautiful and practically flawless strawberry shortcake. He almost felt bad for cutting into it and pulling a slice out to place on the plate. But he was far more eager to see the reaction, so he didn’t mourn the perfection.
After gathering a fork and a glass of milk, he placed everything on a tray and carefully picked it up. His months of practice came in handy, as the tray remained balanced the whole way to the bedroom. Using a shoulder, he bumped the door open so his hands didn’t leave the tray. Soon enough, he was placing the tray down on the nightstand. By this point, he knew the Ultimate Hope was awake now. “Good morning. Was your sleep restful?”
The red eyes gazed up at him, still mysterious and cryptic, though not nearly as hard anymore. Being free of pain and drugs was most likely the reason. “I can confirm that it was. The aroma of your creation coaxed me back to consciousness. Not that I mind this pleasant method of awakening.”
“I’m glad you think so, si-” Hajime paused, laughing in embarrassment. “I mean Izuru.”
The white-haired man smirked up at him. “Slip of the tongue?”
Hajime scratched his cheek, right under his silk eye cover. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”
“But they are getting to be fewer and less frequent,” Izuru observed. He sat up, the large shirt he was wearing slipping off a shoulder. “Can you hand me a hair tie, my dear caretaker?” he requested once he had risen into a comfortable position.
The brunette was quick to do so, though he did it with a grin. “That was on purpose. You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”
Izuru’s smirk didn’t diminish, even as he began gathering his long hair and weaving the hair tie around the locks. “Observant as always, my dear. Just one of the many traits I adore about you.”
Hajime felt his cheeks redden. He still wasn’t able to hide his reactions to Izuru’s words of affection. “I-I do my best.”
“That you do.” Izuru finished making his ponytail, letting it rest against his back. He then reached forward, tugging on Hajime’s arms. The strength of the tugs had been unexpectedly strong and Hajime found himself falling onto the bed alongside Izuru with a yelp.
“Much better,” Izuru stated as he hugged Hajime to his chest. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
The brunette wiggled only slightly to get more comfortable. “But… don’t you want your cake?”
“In a few moments. Let me indulge myself on this first,” was the reply. A pleased hum followed, along with some shoulder rubs that felt amazing. “Another day of tranquility. One that we earned for our perseverance through the blood and pain. The torture those foolish scientists inflicted while playing God. But I suppose it would be best to not dwell upon such horrid memories. It is beneficial to move on and build oneself back up stronger than before.”
The caretaker chuckled. “That the Ultimate Therapist at work? Putting in overtime, for sure.”
“Perhaps. But I will utilize my abilities for our sakes and lives. And I’m sure you are well aware of this.” One of Izuru’s hands migrated up to his hair, scratching his scalp and conjuring happy noises from the receiver.
“What did I do to deserve this? So nice,” Hajime muttered, relaxing into the comforting touches.
“If you would like reasons, I can compile a list. But be aware that it is a long one. It would take some time to read them all,” Izuru replied with his eternal smile.
“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll decline. You know how I am with rapid fire compliments.” The brunette relaxed under the ministrations, enjoying every second.
“Oh, I do have something to retrieve. Remain here in bed, okay?” Izuru withdrew and extracted himself from the bed covers, standing up and walking over to his closet. Hajime watched in confusion, especially as the pale man pulled out a giant crocheted blanket with a mandala design. “You are always making things for me, so I figured I could return the favor. It was surprisingly easy to keep my work on this little project secret from you. Though, I am certainly not complaining,” Izuru commented as he brought the blanket over, laying it over Hajime and tucking him in. “The pattern is a representation of our spiritual and physical journey through our lives. That we found our fulfillment after our struggles. Quite fitting, wouldn’t you agree?”
Hajime’s eyes, both functional and broken, widened at the colorful blanket now around him. He ran a hand over the design, admiring the nice material and the quality of the gift. “I… I don’t know what to say… This is…”
Izuru sat next to him, sliding under the blanket next to him. “I already know, so don’t fret. Nothing needs to be expressed.” He leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed the plate and fork. “Now then, how about we try your splendid creation?” The full strawberry on top was speared with the fork and was raised to their faces. “I’ll give you the honor of taking the decoration. You won’t refuse, will you?”
Hajime’s breath was shaky as he nodded. “You know that I would never refuse anything from you. Neither back then, nor now.”
“Excellent. Though there is one condition to get this. You will have to take it from me.” Izuru placed the lower half of the strawberry into his mouth, the thicker half sticking out. And the mischievous look in those ruby red eyes implied exactly what Izuru was insinuating.
Hajime’s face turned as red as the berry. They were about to do this, weren’t they? But he couldn’t go back on his promise, so he swallowed his nerves. He leaned forward and locked lips with the other, the kiss tasting like the sweet fruit. It lasted for several moments, neither of them eager to break it. Eventually, they did separate, the strawberry now in Hajime’s mouth. He focused on chewing to buy himself time to calm down from the rush of emotions. Though this was easily seen by the Ultimate Analyst, if the smirk was anything to go off of.
“Now, I shall taste test your work. Though I don’t doubt it will be fantastic. Thank you for the treat,” the Ultimate Hope said as he cut into the cake and took a delicate bite. “A nice way to wake up and start the day. And here’s to many more in our future.”
Hajime snuggled under the beautiful blanket a little more, resting his head on Izuru’s shoulder. Finally comfortable with initiating close contact after all this time. “Yes. I hope and wish for that, too.”
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bupia · 3 months
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Silent bonds: Papa Emeritus II x AFAB!Reader (4 Chapters in 1 Post)
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Summary: You and Secondo have shared a lasting friendship since he became the Papa Emeritus II. As he immerses himself in preparations for an impending date, latent feelings begin to surface, raising the question of whether your relationship can evolve beyond friendship.
Words: 26.401
Warnings: Light Angst (insecurity) | Fluff | Smut (teasing; cunnilingus; fingering; oral sex; dirty talk; unprotected sex; p in v; breeding) | Italian swearing | Swearing | Reader is described as AFAB, but "Deacon" is used as Gender Neutral term.
Available on AO3 divided by 4 Chapters
A rhythmic knock resonated through the door connecting your office to the Papa's, drawing your attention away from the papers on your desk. Given the hour, it wasn't unexpected for him to seek you out for more tasks or discussions. With a deep breath, you acknowledged the familiar sound with a smile, allowing yourself a brief stretch to ease the tension in your back and eyes.
"Enter," you uttered, rising from your chair.
Upon the door's creaking open, he peered into your cabinet, scanning the space until his eyes rested on you. Secondo, the Papa Emeritus II from the Ministry where you worked as a Deacon, had been a close friend for many years. While others might find the idea of being friends with Secondo peculiar, you saw nothing odd about it. Being his friend wasn't strange; it was a privilege. Secondo was sweet, funny, caring, a bit of a teaser, and remarkably intelligent. People often mistook him for someone serious, devoid of humor, or as someone who seldom smiled, but you knew better. The Secondo you were friends with was far from those misconceptions.
Yet, today, something felt different. Typically, a smile would grace his lips when his eyes met yours upon entering your cabinet. As he stepped inside, you circled your table, coming to a stop with one hand on the desk and the other on your waist, observing him approaching. Without a word, he slumped into one of the chairs facing your desk. A silent chuckle escaped you as you turned towards him. No words were necessary; a tilt of your head conveyed the inquiry, prompting him to throw his head back in annoyance, the frustration evident in the sound he made.
"So...?" A soft chuckle escaped you as you playfully nudged his calf with your foot, prompting him to lift his head and meet your gaze.
Secondo settled more comfortably into the chair, offering you a small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. "I won't forgive you for not showing up," he muttered, a trace of annoyance in his tone.
You gasped, mockingly placing a hand over your chest. "How dare you?"
"No, how dare you not come," he retorted, shaking his head disapprovingly.
"Someone has to do the important work," you teased, smirking.
He rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a smirk. "And I suppose that someone is you, sì?"
You grinned, meeting his gaze. "Perhaps."
"Perhaps," he repeated with a nod.
You leaned against the edge of your desk, crossing your arms. "How was the lunch?"
"Same as usual, Deacon. Endless discussions about the future of the Ministry. Nothing out of the ordinary," he sighed.
"And what about the Clergy today?"
"The Clergy... quegli sciocchi vecchi uomini," he grumbled, frustration etching lines on his face. "You really can't keep skipping the lunch meetings."
A defiant smirk played on your lips as you replied, "Oh, I can, and I will. None of them can utter a single objection, and I'll make sure of it."
Secondo's lips curled into a wry smile, a certain amusement glinting in his eyes as he listened to your words. It reminded you of the times he had praised your steadfast demeanor, expressing his admiration for how you refused to be intimidated, especially by the imposing figures of the Clergy. He had commended your ability to wield your authority confidently, acknowledging the power you held and the way you wielded it.
"Your defiance is a rare trait," Secondo remarked, his tone a mix of approval and amusement.
You chuckled, appreciating Secondo's words. "Well, I learned from the best," you quipped, giving him a sly look.
Secondo's laughter resonated, and he nodded in agreement. He shifted his gaze to a distant corner, his eyes taking on a contemplative expression as if lost in thought. "Ah!" Secondo exclaimed, a sudden realization lighting up his features.
"What!?"
Rising from the chair, Secondo turned toward the door. "Follow me to my office."
Following Secondo, you walked toward the door linking your cabinet to his office. As the Deacon of the Ministry, your closer collaboration with him was an unspoken privilege. However, he'd never admit to such favoritism, even to you. Your role as a Deacon involved working closely with higher-ranking members, including the Papa Emeritus, to implement organizational goals and initiatives.
Your role within the Ministry was multifaceted, blending administrative prowess with a deep understanding of the sacred rituals and traditions. Your responsibilities extended beyond mere paperwork, delving into the intricacies of maintaining the Ministry's sanctity and efficiency. With each document meticulously scrutinized, you ensured that the delicate balance between tradition and progress was upheld. Your work bore the weight of the Ministry's legacy, and you navigated through the bureaucracy with the precision of a seasoned diplomat.
At least, that was the explanation Secondo would offer to anyone questioning potential privileges, underlining the professional nature of your connection.
Reaching for the door, Secondo stood beside it, gesturing for you to enter his office. With a nod of gratitude, you stepped inside, and he followed, leaving the door ajar. Moving from behind you, Secondo approached his desk, while you stood closer to the door, observing him as he sifted through folders atop his desk.
"More work for me?" you inquired with curiosity.
"I'm afraid so," he replied. "I need you to wrap up those files for the upcoming ritual."
"Oh!" you exclaimed, stepping closer to his desk, hands tucked behind your back. "Of course, Papa."
"We've talked about this; stop calling me Papa," he said, lifting his eyes to meet yours. "Papa is reserved for public moments. You know I'm fine with you using my name when it's just us, as we always have."
"Alright," you said, bringing your hands to rest on his desk, leaning slightly. "Se-con-do," you playfully spelled out his name, causing him to huff, and you suppressed a silent giggle.
"That's better," he said, extending a folder towards you.
"Is it?" you asked, with a mocking tone.
"The folder," he reminded, gesturing with the document in his hand.
"For when do you need those?" you inquired, your fingers lightly tapping on the edge of his desk.
"Tonight would be ideal," he said, glancing up at you. "We need everything in order before the Clergy starts poking their noses where they don't belong."
"I'll ensure everything is organized," you started. "But, can't it be for tomorrow morning, Papa?"
"Pasticcina..." he uttered your nickname with a serious tone. He didn't use it often, but when he did, there were hidden meanings, and you had grown accustomed to interpreting them based on the tone he employed.
"Fine," you replied, turning your back and making your way back to your cabinet. The sound of him clearing his throat halted your steps, prompting you to turn back. "Yes?"
He met your gaze. "I know you'll finish those tonight. If there's someone who can do it, that one is you, sì?"
You chuckled and nodded. "Of course, Pa-pa," you lingered on his title, relishing the pronunciation, before stepping back into your cabinet and closing the door behind you.
You returned to your desk, knowing that the remainder of the afternoon would be consumed by the documents from the folder he had given you. Yet, it was within the scope of your duties at the Ministry, so there was no room for complaints. Besides, you were assisting a friend, and that fact alone made the task more bearable.
Placing the folder on your desk, you sighed as you glanced at the other ones you had already started reading and organizing. It promised to be a long afternoon. With a deliberate exhale, you settled into your chair, redirecting your attention to the documents you were checking before Secondo entered your cabinet. Determination fueled your focus as you aimed to complete them before tackling the new files he had entrusted to you.
As the hours passed, the ambient light in your office shifted from the warm glow of the afternoon to the subdued hues of evening. The rhythmic tick of the clock on your wall was a steady companion as you delved into the complexities of your tasks. Lost in the labyrinth of paperwork, you were only stirred by the soft knock on your door linked to Secondo's office.
You raised your head to look at the door, and the realization that night had settled outside your window dawned upon you. You sighed, feeling the strain in your shoulders, and stretched your back, the subtle crackle providing momentary relief, before rubbing your eyes.
"Come in," you said with a tired voice, followed by a yawn.
As the door opened, Secondo stepped inside, his discerning eyes catching the subtle signs of your diligence. You smiled at him, leaning back in your chair. You noticed he had already discarded his Papa robes, now wearing only his customary full black outfit underneath. Like you, his expression, though obscured by the skull face paint, hinted at weariness.
Closing the door behind him, Secondo made his way to your desk, and your eyes followed his steps through the cabinet until he reached for the chair he had occupied earlier that afternoon. With a deep breath, he settled into the seat.
"I hope I'm not interrupting," he remarked, his gaze lingering on the scattered papers.
"Just a momentary break," you replied, offering a weary but genuine smile.
Secondo reached for the folders on your desk, his fingers tracing the edges as he inquired, "Did you manage to finish it?"
"I did," you replied, a note of accomplishment in your voice. "Not only that, but I also finished the files you handed me this morning," you held out the organized folders, presenting them to Secondo.
His eyes narrowed slightly, with surprise and approval. "Impressionante," he remarked, taking the folders from you and deftly opening one to inspect the documents.
"It's my duty, Secondo," you responded.
He hummed in appreciation. "Can I ask you one more thing before you go?" Secondo's gaze met yours, a request lingering in his eyes.
You nodded.
"Would you..." His words trailed off as he diverted his gaze for a moment, a subtle hint of hesitation tainting his expression.
"Assist you with a new speech for the ritual?" you asked.
"No, I..." he started and sighed. "I have a date," he casually revealed.
"What?" your voice betrayed with surprise and disbelief. "When?"
"In some few days," Secondo sighed, his gaze momentarily distant as if contemplating his own decision. "I decided to... try something different," he admitted, his voice carrying a tinge of mystery and a hint of reluctance.
You arched an eyebrow, sensing the unusual weight behind his words. "Different? A date?" you teased.
"It's not a usual occurrence for me, as you well know," he grunted, a faint annoyance lingering in his expression. "Call it a whim, if you will. Just don't make it more than it is," Secondo glanced at you, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "It's just a dinner."
"Just dinner?" you repeated, eyebrows raised. "You're being unusually vague, Secondo."
He shrugged, his expression nonchalant. "I don't want to overthink it. It's just dinner, nothing more."
You tilted your head, studying him. "What did you need my help with?" you inquired.
He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, rolling his sleeves up with a nonchalant air. "I just need some advice on conversation topics, maybe some dating tips; for now," he explained, a touch of vulnerability beneath his usual composed demeanor.
You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "The great Secondo, seeking dating advice? Now, that's new."
He shot you a deadpan look, unamused. "Don't make a big deal out of it. It's just an experiment."
You chuckled. "Experiment or not, I'm honored to be the dating consultant for Papa Emeritus II. So, tell me about the details. Who's the lucky person?"
He hesitated for a moment before revealing, "It's someone from the Ministry."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? Do I know them?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "It doesn't matter," Secondo looked at you, a subtle intensity in his eyes.
"Fine," you rolled your eyes. "Sure, we can practice, but your level of commitment for what you call 'just dinner' is certainly something else."
He leaned against your desk, a subtle smirk playing on your lips. "Are you testing me?"
"Not at all. I wouldn't dare to test the almighty, the unholiest Papa Emeritus II," you said, your eyes gleaming with playful mischief.
He chuckled, a low hum following suit. "So, any suggestions for romantic conversation topics?"
You thought for a moment, tapping your fingers on the desk. "Well, what do you enjoy doing? Talk about your interests, and see if you have any common hobbies. You know, things you're passionate about."
He leaned back, considering your words. "Like what?"
"Secondo," you giggled. "You really never had been on a proper date?"
"I had some dates in the past," he admitted.
"I meant a proper one, with more talk than moans," you teased.
"Maybe not that many, then," he conceded with a smirk. "I just need some practice."
You chuckled at his response. "Alright, let's practice. Pretend I'm your date. Talk to me about something you're genuinely interested in."
He raised an eyebrow, glancing around the cabinet as if searching for inspiration. "I... well, I appreciate... Satanism."
"That's a start," you encouraged. "But, considering I already know your role as Papa in a Satanic Ministry, let's try something else, shall we?"
He huffed, crossing his arms. “I also have a passion for cooking.”
"Do you!?" you exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "Why didn't you tell me about that?"
"Perhaps because we've never been on a date?" he teased, a subtle smile gracing the corner of his lips.
"Very funny, Secondo," you retorted. "What do you enjoy cooking?"
He pondered for a moment. "My mom taught me how to cook when I was younger, back before I moved here to the Ministry. So, in the days before I came to live here with my father, Primo and Terzo, she would prepare and teach me the recipes from her homeland. But, as you already know, since we used to live in Italy, she always found a way to blend both cuisines into one. So the short answer would be that I enjoy cook everything my mom taught me."
You listened attentively, nodding. "That's cu–better!" you quickly corrected yourself. "What more about you would you like to share?"
"I enjoy literature as well," he relaxed his posture, his arms uncrossed. "Particularly when it delves into the darker facets of human nature."
"That's interesting," you smiled at him.
"Is it?" he asked, tilting his head inquisitively.
You nodded in affirmation, mirroring his head tilt. "Which authors do you like?"
His eyes rolled upward in contemplation before returning to meet yours, locking gazes. "Lately, I've delved into 'The Masque of the Red Death' by Edgar Allan Poe."
You leaned in a bit, your eyes searching his. "And what is it about?" The question hung in the air, almost a murmur.
Secondo, responding to your intrigue, moved closer to your desk, resting his arms on it. "Mortality, decadence, and the inevitability of death."
Your eyes held his, and a subtle smile played on your lips. "It suits your taste, doesn't it?" The words slipped from your lips almost playfully.
For a moment, a silent exchange lingered between you, both locked in a gaze that held a subtle dance of unspoken sentiments. The back-and-forth felt almost automatic, a flow of words and glances that hung in the air. However, as the silence stretched, you broke the connection, blinking slowly and shifting your gaze to another corner of the room. The unspoken tension lingered, suspended in the quiet space between you.
"Now, should I ask you about your interests?" he asked, his gaze focused on you.
You leaned back, considering his question with a playful glint in your eyes. "Yes, feel free to ask."
He chuckled, a genuine warmth in his tone. "Molto bene, pasticcina... what are your passions?"
You smirked, playing along. "Well, I also have an appreciation for Satanism, though I suppose you know."
He chuckled. "Indeed, pasticcina. What more?"
You continued the playful practice, seamlessly transitioning from the hypothetical to the personal. As you delved into the conversation, Secondo surprised you with his genuine curiosity. He asked about your favorite dishes, the kind of music you liked, and even your preferred getaway destinations.
You found yourself opening up about your passions and quirks. Surprisingly, Secondo's interest wasn't feigned; he listened attentively, occasionally sharing his own preferences. A long time ago, you noticed that he genuinely enjoyed moments when you would talk at length, silently absorbing your words. And according to him, listening to you was a way for him to relax after a stressful or long day. It felt as if Secondo was peeling away the layers of formality, revealing a more personal side that you rarely glimpsed. His responses were not mere nods or brief acknowledgments; instead, he engaged with a genuine interest that touched your heart.
As you spoke, you couldn't help but appreciate the sincerity in Secondo's gaze. His eyes, usually carrying a weight of responsibilities and authority, softened into a more tender expression. It was as if, in this moment, the roles that defined your relationship were momentarily set aside, allowing a deeper connection to emerge.
"Ok, my time now! What’s your favorite memory from when you moved here?" you asked, resting your face on your hand as you stared at him.
"Favorite memory?" Secondo mused, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "I used to sneak into the Chapel for late-night fake rituals with Terzo. We used to explore the rooms behind the Chapel."
Intrigued, you leaned forward. "Rooms? Behind the Chapel?"
He grinned, revealing a glimpse of mischief. "We would sneak around after official hours, inventing stories about rituals we'd perform once we became Papa Emeritus."
You chuckled, "Did you three ever get caught?"
"More times than we’d like to admit," he admitted with a laugh.
"Who would've thought you were a rebel in your youth," you teased, pointing playfully at Secondo.
He responded with a sly smile, reaching for your hand and lightly touching his index finger to the one you were pointing at him. "There are probably some things you don't know about me, pasticcina."
A warmth spread through you, and you pulled away your finger, shaking your head with a slight blush. "I bet I don't. After all, I just discovered today that you can cook!'"
Secondo chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his eyes locked with yours. "A well-hidden talent, wouldn't you say? Maybe I have more surprises up my sleeves."
You couldn't help but smirk, leaning forward slightly. "I'm intrigued."
He leaned in as well, the desk between you feeling like an invisible boundary. "Are you, pasticcina?"
"Very much. Why? Shouldn't I?" you asked with a playful glint in your eyes.
He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, I can't tell you what to do, sì? Or maybe I can, as the Papa."
You laughed at his words and shook your head. "Yes, you're the Papa. And you're not my boss, so technically, you can't dictate my actions. Though, I must admit, sometimes you seem to believe otherwise," you added, flashing him a sweet smile.
"Pasticcina, you're forgetting that I'm Papa Emerius II of this Ministry. So, yes, technically, I'm the boss," he said, crossing his legs.
"Well, Papa Emeritus II, even if you're the boss you've always respected my autonomy. So I guess that's the reason we get along so well," you teased, giving him a knowing look.
He smirked, the twinkle of mischief present in his eyes. "You're right, I could never bring myself to dictate your actions. That's not something I desire. Especially in our circumstances."
"Our circumstances?" you laughed lightheartedly, shaking your head. "Any more hidden talents or skills you're keeping from me?"
Secondo's gaze intensified, and he leaned even closer. "Maybe you need to find out for yourself. I could surprise you one of these days."
You leaned back, feigning casualness, yet your eyes didn't leave his. "Surprises, huh? Maybe I also have a few tricks up my sleeve as well."
Secondo raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his gaze. "Do you?"
"Maybe," you admitted with a playful smile.
"Will you share them with me?"
"Absolutely not," you responded, shaking your head with a teasing grin. "Just like you, I'll keep my mysteries hidden," you pointed a playful finger at him. "But, I just hope that one day, I'll understand your enigmas."
He chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I doubt you'll unravel all my mysteries. Some are meant to be kept, sì?" Secondo chuckled, rising from the chair with the folders in hand. "Grazie for practicing with me."
"Are we finished already?" you questioned, giving him a certain look. You didn't want this brief exchange between the two of you to come to an end.
"Sì, we are," he nodded in confirmation, his eyes reflecting gratitude.
"Well, in that case, no need to thank me; I'm here for it," you reassured him, a genuine warmth evident in your tone. "We're friends, after all."
"You should go now, rest. It's late," he said, stretching his back.
You stood up from your chair, your gaze locked with his. "What about you?"
"I'll place these in the archives and then head to my chambers," he explained.
"Do you want me to come with you?" you offered, circling your table to stand by his side.
Secondo turned to face you, a gentle smile on his lips as he shook his head. Placing his hand on your cheek, he said, "I won't ask for more favors today. Go, rest, and I'll see you tomorrow." His touch lingered for a moment before he withdrew his hand.
"Fine," you huffed playfully. "But don't overwork."
"I won't, I promise," he replied, his eyes holding a sincerity.
You nodded, looking at him. Your eyes remained locked, holding onto each other's gaze. There was a peculiar intensity in the air, as if an unspoken connection lingered between you two.
"Before you leave," he said, stepping closer to you. "I do have a question."
"Well, it seems there's more for me tonight," you teased, chuckling. "Ask away."
"Just one question," he replied. "Let's imagine this is our first day together, you know, as my date," he said nervously. "How should I go about things at the end?"
"Well, it all depends on how the date goes," you responded with a thoughtful smile. "What happens next, really depends on the person you're with. Some might appreciate a goodnight kiss, while others might prefer a more reserved end to the evening. Best to gauge their preferences and perhaps just ask." You couldn't resist teasing him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Now, if by 'ending the night' you're referring to something more... intimate," you paused, a sly grin forming, "well, that also depends, Secondo. It's mostly up to your partner's comfort and desires. If they're up for it, great. If not, you might want to exercise a bit more patience and wait for the right moment."
Secondo chuckled, shaking his head. "No, no, that's not what I was getting at," he clarified. "I'm not... thinking about anything too intimate for the first date. I just want to make sure I don't mess up the next steps. I'd like the date to be successful and maybe open the door for a second one."
You couldn't help but laugh at the misunderstanding. "Got it. It's always good to clarify these things. In that case, just be genuine, attentive, and considerate. If the connection is there, everything else will naturally fall into place."
Secondo nodded appreciatively. "Genuino, attento e premuroso. Posso farlo."
You grinned, offering a playful wink. "Exactly. And remember, if the date is going well, you'll sense it. If there's a good connection, you might even feel a spark. Just be yourself, and it'll all work out."
He smiled in response. "Grazie. I'll keep that in mind. Now, I should let you go. Don't want to keep you from your evening plans."
"Evening plans?" you chuckled. "More like bedtime plans. I just need to sle..."
Your words trailed off as Secondo delicately took hold of your hand, drawing it closer to his face. He pressed a soft kiss onto the back of it, his lips brushing smoothly, and his nose causing a delightful shiver to run down your spine. Secondo released your hand and raised his face to look at you again.
"Hope you have a good night," he whispered in a low, rough tone.
You nodded and you turned to leave, for some reason, you weren't feeling inclined to leave him tonight, prompting you to force yourself to look away. Giving him a warm smile, you made your way to the front door of your cabinet, opening it. You turned to face him for a last time and waved, a strange pull tugged at something inside you. Yet, without hesitating anymore, you left your cabinet, closing the door behind you. The corridor outside seemed quieter, the echoes of your footsteps resonating as you walked away. The night held a hint of something you couldn't figure out, but you pushed the thoughts aside, choosing to focus on the need for rest. Tomorrow would bring a new day.
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The morning found you in the meeting room, surrounded by the table filled with members of the Clergy. Secondo occupied the central chair, presiding over the gathering. Annoyance lingered in the air, exacerbated by the early hour that seemed unfit for such deliberations. Yet, there you were, seated in your chair, contemplating the tedious proceedings. It was too early for such matters, and the weight of the Clergy's expectations pressed heavily on your shoulders. Despite the internal discontent, you maintained a composed exterior.
"How about we add a dance routine to the ritual, spice things up a bit?" one of the counselors inquired.
Secondo raised an eyebrow. "We're not putting on a show; it's a sacred ritual, not a ballroom."
"How about we all don hooded robes?" the Magister suggested, his tone edged with a touch too much enthusiasm.
"Are you aspiring to be one of my ghouls?" Secondo questioned with a stern undertone, tapping his fingers on the table's surface.
"No, Papa. I apologize," the Magister replied, a hint of embarrassment coloring his voice.
Secondo sighed, his demeanor maintaining seriousness. "This is not a celebration; we strive for solemnity and reverence." He then turned to you. "Deacon, any suggestions?"
"Uh...How about we emphasize the significance of sin and purpose? You can give a solemn speech about it," you spoke with conviction, "Also, what about a ritualistic chant? A collective recitation to honor our Dark Lord."
Secondo stared at you for a moment in silence, then nodded approvingly. "A return to our traditions. I appreciate it, Deacon. Let's proceed with that direction, we need a ritual that aligns with our satanic traditions."
The members of the Clergy grumbled, but Secondo's decision remained unyielding. After all, he held the esteemed position of Papa Emeritus. While there were murmurs of discontent, there was an understanding that his word carried undeniable weight. Somehow, it felt like as if being part of the Clergy and his friend, provided a unique privilege, granting you proximity to Secondo's decisions and shaping the path of the Ministry.
Beyond the friendship you shared with Secondo, which allowed you to know him on a personal level, your role as his Deacon gave you insight into his vision for the Ministry. This deeper understanding empowered you to offer suggestions that aligned with his aspirations, making your contributions more impactful.
In other words, you knew him.
As the members of the Clergy dispersed at his dismissal, Secondo remained seated in his chair, and you in yours, waiting until the last member exited the door. A noticeable sigh escaped Secondo's lips, echoing in the now empty room. Amused, you turned your face towards him and couldn't help but giggle.
You gracefully rose from your chair and made your way towards Secondo. His eyes followed your movements until you stopped by his side, sitting on the table next to him.
"Rough morning?" you asked, studying Secondo.
"Hooded robes? That's the pinnacle of ideas for the meeting?" Another sigh, accompanied by a roll of his eyes.
You couldn't stifle a chuckle at his exasperated expression. "Well, he did make an attempt, didn't he?"
"That was an attempt?" he retorted with a huffed chuckle.
"Secondo..."
"Mi dispiace," Secondo conceded, rubbing his brows with his fingers and leaning back in his chair. "It's just frustrating sometimes."
You shifted closer. “I get it. The hooded robes suggestion was a bit out there.”
He sighed, turning his gaze to the door. “It’s like they’re trying to outdo each other.”
“Well,” you chuckled, “at least it keeps things interesting.”
"What do you mean?" Secondo inquired.
"I meant that," you sighed, shaking your head. "Come on, Secondo, early morning meetings? It's practically an invitation for absurd suggestions."
He chuckled, a genuine laugh escaping him. "You have a point, Deacon."
You joined in the laughter. "Maybe we should schedule meetings in the afternoon. Avoid the pre-dawn eccentricities."
Secondo raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Are you trying to spare me from hooded robe discussions?"
"Consider it a small act of mercy," you replied with a smirk.
Secondo chuckled silently, turning his eyes back to you, locking gazes. For a moment, you two just stared at each other. A warm smile crossed your face, and he quickly averted his gaze, rising from his chair. As he did, you gracefully slid from the table to the floor, observing him as he put his mitra back on his head.
“Back to the usual, I suppose,” Secondo remarked, adjusting his mitra.
You rose to your feet, a playful glint in your eyes. “The Ministry awaits for their unholiest Eminence, Papa Emeritus II.”
"Did you mean the Paper work?" He smirked, gesturing towards the door. “Shall we return to the office, Deacon? There’s more work to be done.”
You nodded, following him out of the meeting room. Secondo opened the door, allowing you to exit first, and then followed behind. The way back to his office and your cabinet was accompanied by a comfortable silence. The quiet corridors, still untouched by the bustling activities of the day, provided a serene atmosphere.
As you both walked together, your steps in perfect rhythm, a tranquil ambiance enveloped you. The morning’s hushed stillness allowed for reflection, interrupted only by occasional sounds echoing through the hallways. You sensed Secondo’s gaze on you at times, hinting at unspoken thoughts, yet you chose to ignore it, maintaining the quiet companionship between you two.
Reaching his office door, you placed a hand on his back, tapping your fingers in a silent farewell. As you slid your hand away, moving towards the door of your cabinet without looking back, Secondo surprised you by reaching for your wrist. You stopped, turning to meet his gaze.
With a subtle gesture of his head towards the door of his office, Secondo's unspoken invitation was clear. You nodded, and his hand moved from your wrist to your hand, holding it gently. Together, you walked into his office, and he closed the door behind you.
"What's going on, Secondo?" you inquired, a genuine tone of concern in your voice.
He turned towards you, still holding your hand. "Nothing, just wanted to discuss something before we dive into our daily tasks."
"Ah!" you exclaimed, relief evident in your voice. "All the silence and mysterious gestures... You scared me!" You chuckled, but the humor faded as you felt the grip of his hand tighten.
"I apologize, pasticcina," he said, releasing your hand. "It's nothing important; no need to worry. But I was thinking, after work, would you like to join me for dinner?"
"A dinner?" you raised a questioning brow. "Why?"
He moved to his desk, glancing away from you. "Yesterday, after you left, I started to ask myself about my plans for the date. I might admit I felt a bit pressured to decide without seeking an opinion, so I thought that meeting in my chambers for dinner would be more intimate," he explained. "So, what I'm suggesting is: could you come to my chambers later and share a meal with me? I'll take care of the cooking, so no need to worry."
"Yes, certainly," you affirmed with a nod. "But, why the sudden dinner plan?"
"Because I need your opinion," he explained, running his hand over his face and settling into his chair. "And I trust your taste, especially since you've never experienced my cooking skills before."
A playful giggle escaped you, and you bit your lower lip. "Putting in quite the effort for this date. They must be someone special, or... I'm not sure what else could explain it."
He nodded in agreement, rolling his chair away from the desk. Removing his mitra and placing it carefully on the edge, he continued, "They are. A lot. Grazie for helping me again," standing up, he lifted his robe and removed it. "I'll be expecting you after work, so you can change comfortably if you wish," he added while hanging his robe. "But for now, let's focus on work, sí?"
You nodded in agreement, offering him a sweet smile as you made your way to the door of your cabinet. Pushing it open, you impulsively gave him a final glance and found him looking back at you. However, as your eyes met, he quickly averted his gaze, and you did the same, entering your office and closing the door behind you.
Furrowing your brows, you walked to your desk and turned your face towards the door, a sense of confusion settling in as an unspoken tension lingered in the air.
Determined to delve into work, you tried to push aside the intrusive thoughts about Secondo's date. The realization that he needed your opinion for a personal matter lingered, adding an unexpected layer to your responsibilities. It felt like putting in extra hours for a friend, yet a subtle discomfort simmered beneath the surface, a feeling you couldn't quite decipher.
The day progressed, and the weight of your concentration on work led you to skip lunch, an unusual occurrence even without a meeting with the Clergy. The intensity with which you focused became a shield against the lingering thoughts, keeping your emotions in check. As the hours passed, the unease grew, a nagging sensation that you couldn't shake.
Amid your concentrated efforts, a knock on your door shattered the silence, pulling you away from your work. The interruption disrupted your train of thought, leaving you slightly disoriented as you looked towards the door.
Taking a deep breath, you stood up from your chair walking to the front of your desk and turned towards the door. Leaning against the edge of the desk, you called out, "Come in," crossing your arms in front of your chest.
As the door swung open, a sibling of sin from the ministry stood there. "I apologize for disturbing you, Deacon, but your presence is requested by the Magister in the Chapel."
"Thank you," you responded with a gentle smile.
The Sibling of Sin nodded, taking a step back from the door before leaving your cabinet. Just before the door closed, you signaled to keep it open. Seizing the opportunity, you made your way towards the door, leaving your cabinet and heading directly to the Chapel.
Uncertain of what the Magister could possibly need at this hour in the afternoon, you had no choice but to go. Entering the chapel, Archeon, the Magister, was already waiting for you, seated on one of the benches. As your eyes met his, you couldn't help but sigh.
"Magister," you greeted, closing the chapel's door behind you.
He turned his face towards you, rising from the bench. "Deacon, please, join me," he gestured to a door, his office and you walked towards it with him.
You approached, entering his office with him following suit. Archeon's expression bore formality and concern as he glanced at you.
"Deacon, I apologize for the sudden call, but there's a matter of urgency that requires your attention," he began, his tone carrying a weight.
"What is it?" you inquired, a note of concern in your voice.
"It's about the upcoming ritual," he replied with a smirk.
Suppressing any visible reaction, you maintained a composed exterior, merely nodding in response. You found yourself unwittingly drawn into another discussion about the ritual, a situation that seemed to be becoming a recurring theme in your day.
You couldn't shake the suspicion that Archeon had summoned you instead of Secondo, well aware that convincing the Papa might be an impossible task. It was a misjudgment on his part, as you held firm in your loyalty to Secondo and his decisions.
As the discussions delved deeper into the intricacies of the ritual, the afternoon gradually stretched into the night. Engrossed in the meeting, you realized you hadn't found a chance to escape from the Magister's grasp. After the prolonged discussions, you couldn't help but wish you were anywhere else at this point, yearning for a break from the relentless discourse.
"I was thinking we could enhance the upcoming ritual with some thematic decorations, perhaps—"
Raising your hand, you interjected wearily, offering a polite smile as your eyes flicked to the clock. "Magister, I appreciate your ideas, truly, but I've been immersed in logistical details all day." With a subtle gesture, you motioned towards the stack of papers on your desk. "I believe we've covered most bases. Can we possibly continue this discussion tomorrow?"
The Magister sighed, recognizing your exhaustion. "I completely understand, Deacon, but hear me out on these finer details about the ceremonial space. Picture this — ethereal lighting, symbolic artifacts, and maybe even a thematic focal point for the Papa Emeritus."
Nodding politely, you glanced towards the door, silently signaling the urgency of your situation. "Magister, your vision is inspiring, no doubt." As you spoke, you gathered the papers on your desk. "But I have an important matter to attend to now. Let's reconvene tomorrow, what do you think?"
"But, Deacon—" he began, reluctant to let go of his ideas.
You stood, a sense of determination in your eyes. "Tomorrow, Magister. I promise we'll give your ideas the attention they deserve. Right now, urgent matters call."
He nodded, understanding the present circumstances, and you gave him a reassuring smile. With that, you headed towards the door, leaving the Magister to contemplate his ideas inside one of the rooms of the Chapel.
As you navigated the corridors to reach Secondo's chambers, your thoughts drifted to reasons why he needed you tonight. You had been friends with Secondo for a considerable time, and you couldn't recall a time when he straight-up asked for your help on something so private. Granted, he had casually alluded to it on a few occasions, but it was more like random thoughts than actual requests. You pondered what was happening for him to break from his routine and embark on this unexpected endeavor.
Reaching for the door of his chambers, you shook away your thoughts. Raising your hand, you knocked on his door, mirroring the courtesy he had extended to you earlier. Soon, his voice echoed from inside, signaling you to push the door open and enter.
As you walked in, you made your way to his bedroom, finding him standing in front of the mirror, holding two shirts in his hands. He placed them in front of his bare chest, tilting his head repeatedly as he assessed the options. Leaning against the doorframe, you chuckled at the sight. Secondo shifted his gaze from his reflection to acknowledge your presence in the room.
"Which one?" he inquired, a serious tone in his voice.
"The white one," you replied, gesturing towards the shirt in his left hand.
He sighed and walked to his bed, discarding the other shirt as he began to don the white one. You made your way towards him, observing him buttoning his shirt. Stopping in front of him, you extended your hands to his neck, assisting with the collar of the shirt, your gaze fixed on his neck.
"Why are you picking out a shirt?"
"I had a little accident in the kitchen," he mumbled.
A playful chuckle escaped your lips as you tilted your face up to meet his gaze. "You, Secondo, had a little accident?"
He sighed, arching a brow. "Sì"
"Feeling nervous?" you inquired, tilting your head as you looked up at him. Your thumbs traced gentle circles on the skin of his neck.
"I don't get nervous," he declared with a serious tone, his hands moving to rest on your arms, holding them securely.
Raising an eyebrow, you scrutinized his expression. "You don't get nervous?"
"No," he replied, withdrawing his hands from your arms and lightly placing one on the side of your body.
Shaking your head with a smile, you moved your hands from his neck to the buttons of his shirt, skillfully undoing the first two. "You're not about to lead a mass or attend a meeting; you don't have to be that formal." You finished unbuttoning his shirt, giving him a light pat on the chest. "There, much better."
Secondo maintained a stoic silence, his gaze fixed on you as your hands lingered on his chest. The discreet sound of him clearing his throat felt like a subtle cue for you to withdraw your hands, concealing the flicker of embarrassment. Stepping back, you aimed to regain your composure.
Inhaling deeply, Secondo clasped his hands together and turned towards the kitchen, prompting you to follow suit. As he entered first and headed towards the stove, you found yourself trailing behind, entering the kitchen with a slight sense of uncertainty. Not quite sure of what to do or where to go, you hesitated on the threshold.
"Are you hungry?" he inquired.
"A little bit," you admitted.
"Come here," he beckoned, and you moved in a beeline towards him, stopping right beside him.
Turning to face you, Secondo gently held your chin between his index finger and thumb. "Open," he instructed, and a flicker of confusion passed through your eyes. Nonetheless, he moved his thumb closer to your lower lip, caressing it gently. "Your mouth."
Your gaze remained fixed on him as you slowly parted your lips, feeling his thumb almost sliding inside your mouth. A satisfied hum escaped him as he let go of your chin, guiding the spoon closer to your mouth.
As the spoon neared and your lips were still parted, your eyes fixed on him, Secondo abruptly halted his movement. He shifted the hand with the spoon, and you instinctively reached for it, taking hold. As he withdrew his hand to turn back to the stove, your eyes focused on the spoon.
"Blew it before tasting," he advised. "It's a recipe from my mom; she used to cook this risotto."
Obediently, you blew on the spoonful and tasted it, savoring the blend of flavors from the ingredients. A content smile spread across your face as you closed your eyes.
"It's good, sì?" Secondo inquired, and you opened your eyes, nodding appreciatively. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he remarked, attempting to veil a subtle joy in his voice, though it lingered beneath the surface. "Now, take a seat, and I'll serve our food."
As Secondo finished serving, you took a seat, waiting for him to join. With graceful movements, he approached the table, placing a plate in front of you and another for himself. Seating himself, he reached for a bottle of wine, but just before pouring, a realization struck him. Standing up, he made his way to the countertop drawer, retrieving a lighter. Returning to the table, he ignited some candles, casting a warm glow in the room. He then went to the switch, turning off the lights before settling back at the table.
You looked around, slightly perplexed by the sudden change in ambiance. "What's all this?" you asked.
Secondo leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips. "Just thought we'd get into the mood of a real date," he explained.
You chuckled, "A real date, huh?"
"Sì, why not?" he replied, pouring some wine into both glasses.
"I appreciate the gesture, but I think I'll pass on the wine," you said with a small smile. "Still have work tomorrow."
Secondo nodded and got up. "Nessun problema. I'll get you something else." He returned with a bottle of water and a glass cup, placing them in front of you. "I apologize. I should have asked before."
"No need to apologize," you reassured him, pouring yourself some water. "I appreciate it," you sipped your water. "This really feels like a real date," you remarked with a playful smile.
Secondo leaned back, his gaze meeting yours. "Well, I did ask you to meet me at night for a dinner,” Secondo admitted, a touch of genuine reflection in his voice. “But I called you here to make sure I’ve still got the charm.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Charm? Is that what you call it?”
He grinned, “Well, you haven’t run away yet, so it must be working, sì?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his playful banter. “I have to admit that your mother's risotto is being more powerful than your 'charm' right now. But, I suppose you have a point. So, what’s the plan for our fictional date talk practice tonight?”
Secondo lifted his wine glass, taking a sip. "I thought we could dive into some typical date talk again. Just, before we do it, why are you still in your work clothes?"
You glanced down at your attire and sighed. "The Magister called for me this afternoon for a discussion."
"What was it about?" Secondo inquired, picking up his fork to begin eating.
"Guess," you replied dryly. "Of course, it was about the ritual."
"Cretino," Secondo muttered under his breath. "I'll make sure he knows not to disturb you any further."
You chuckled, appreciating Secondo’s protective tone. “No need to worry, Secondo. I can handle the Magister, and besides, it’s part of the job.”
He sighed, delicately placing his utensils on the table. “I still don’t like it. You shouldn’t be bothered with such things. If I've made my decision, then he should stop pressuring you. I have the final say.”
You responded with a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, really. Now, back to our ‘typical date talk.’ If being a Papa Emeritus wasn't your destiny, you could have being a chef.”
A subtle smile forming at the corner of his lips as he focused on his food. "I'm truly glad you liked it."
"Are you planning to cook this for your date?" you inquired.
"No," he replied, taking a bite. "I mean... Yes, but, this dish is..." he continued. "This is a dish meant to be shared with someone special."
"Isn't your date someone special?" you quirked an eyebrow.
Secondo chuckled, a soft warmth in his eyes. “Of course. But this dish is... it has a meaning for me, and to share it with someone, for me, is truly intimate.”
You nodded, understanding. “So, what you are telling me right now is that I'm special?"
Secondo took another bite, savoring the flavors before meeting your gaze. "Maybe yes, maybe no," he said with a playful glint in his eyes.
You leaned in, a teasing smile on your lips. "Well, Secondo, you're not giving me a clear answer. Should I be offended or flattered?"
He chuckled, setting his fork down. "You see, 'special' is quite a broad term. it can mean a lot of tings."
You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation. "You're impossible, you know that? But I suppose it's better than a definite 'no'."
He laughed softly, a twinkle in his eyes. "However," he sighed before continuing. "I can't deny that sharing this with you is special. So maybe you're not just special; you're making it special."
You blushed deeply and he reached for your hand. You instinctively let him, both of you seemingly unaware of the unspoken shift in dynamics. The touch felt surprisingly natural, and as your fingers intertwined, the air in the room seemed to thicken with some strange newfound feeling.
“Perhaps,” Secondo began, his voice softer, “we could do this again sometime.”
You nodded. “Of course, I'd love to.”
The evening unfolded in shared conversations and laughter, the atmosphere feeling strangely intimate. Your hands remained intertwined, as if in sync with the unspoken understanding that this wasn't just a performance, or at least didn't feel like it as time seemed to slow down as you both reveled in the comfort of each other's presence.
As the meal drew to a close, Secondo rose, indicating his intention to take care of the dishes. Despite your offer to help, he insisted that you stay put, asserting his desire to handle the task. Weariness settling in, you acquiesced without further protest, allowing him to take charge.
Reclining in your chair, you observed him as he methodically rolled up his sleeves, ready to tackle the pile of dishes. Resting your elbow on the table, you cradled your cheek in your hand, captivated by the simple domesticity of the scene. Watching him in this moment, he seemed more than the formidable Papa Emeritus; he appeared as a person engaged in mundane yet oddly enchanting chores. It was a rare glimpse of Secondo unguarded, a side obscured by his role of authority.
Your eyes roamed over his silhouette, from the way his white shirt clung to him with meticulous precision, the impeccable fit of his black pants, down to his polished shoes. Every detail seemed to accentuate the allure of his form. As he worked on the dishes, your gaze lingered on the back of his head, his neck, his arms, and the motion of his strong hands. The entire sight prompted an involuntary sigh, a reflexive response to the unexpected allure of observing him.
Clearing your head, you shook off the enchantment and took in a deep breath. It felt odd to gaze upon him with such admiration, especially in the context of a casual evening. Reminding yourself that this was merely a performance, a shared act between two individuals, you sought to maintain a sense of detachment. The lines between the scripted performance and genuine connection blurred momentarily.
"Have you considered bringing flowers for your date?" you inquired, turning your gaze back to him.
Secondo paused in his actions, glancing over his shoulder. "Flowers?"
"It could be a nice touch," you suggested, your tone gentle, accompanied by a warm smile. "A thoughtful gesture, don't you think?"
"Flowers," he chuckled softly, a twinkle in his eye. "What kind of flowers?"
"I don't know, maybe... lilies, daisies or..." you paused, contemplating. "Oh! tulips!" you exclaimed, your face lighting up with a smile.
"Tulips?" he inquired, curiosity evident in his voice.
"Yes," you affirmed, nodding with a continued smile. "Tulips expresses admiration."
"Tulips then," he decided, nodding in agreement.
"Yes, Papa. Tulips," you confirmed with a grin
"Stop," he said in a more serious tone.
"Stop with what, Papa?" you inquired, letting his title linger a bit longer on your tongue.
With a chuckle, Secondo turned towards you, arms crossed over his chest. "Pasticcina..."
"Papa?" you repeated, trying to suppress a laugh, your lower lip caught between your teeth.
He approached the table, placing his hands on it in front of you, lowering himself slightly. "Do you find it entertaining to mock me?"
With a playful tone, you replied, gesturing with your hand as if pinching an imaginary space between your thumb and index finger. "A little. But to be honest, I don't get why you don't like me calling you Papa. You call me Deacon!"
He sighed, closing his eyes. "When you call me Papa, it feels like you're just another one of them who sees me only in that role. I know you don't, or at least, I want to believe you don't. So when you do it, it feels like you're only acknowledging me as Papa. Also seeing me as someone above you, and I don't want you to see me as it. You're the only one I allow to call me by my name because... that feels more personal, more real."
"Secondo," you softly uttered his name, and a gentle smile graced his lips. "I..." you continued, observing as Secondo opened his eyes, locking his gaze with yours.
He nodded slightly, a gentle expression in his eyes. "Now you know."
You couldn't help but feel a warmth in your chest, realizing the significance of calling him by his name. It was a privilege, a connection beyond titles and roles. You sensed a deeper bond, one that surpassed the boundaries of your official positions.
"But," you chuckled, looking away from his eyes. "That doesn't explain why you call me Deacon." As you spoke, you felt Secondo's gentle touch cupping your cheek, prompting you to meet his gaze once more.
"That's easy to explain, actually," he replied, straightening his posture and adjusting his sleeves. "I call you Deacon because, in my eyes, you are more than just your title," Secondo said with a sincere tone, his eyes locked onto yours. "It's a term that resonates with the person you are to me—dedicated, capable. When I say it, it's not just a formality; it's a way of acknowledging the person I trust, respect, and consider my equal."
His words caught you off guard, surprise and warmth settling within. You sat there, momentarily frozen, unsure of how to respond, your gaze fixed on him. Secondo, with a subtle tilt of his head, seemed to enjoy your reaction. Breaking the moment, you burst into laughter, getting up from your seat and playfully hitting his arm with a soft punch. He reached for your hand, and pulled you closer.
"Should I let you go for tonight?" he whispered in a hushed tone.
Confused by his ambiguous words, you pondered the meaning behind "letting you go." What was he implying? You hesitated, uncertain of your response. Should you express a desire to stay longer, to extend this quiet and intimate moment with him? Yet, the reason behind that desire eluded you.
"Is our 'date' coming to an end?" you inquired, matching his subdued tone.
"It depends," he whispered back.
The air seemed to thicken, creating an almost suffocating atmosphere. His proximity and the gentle embrace of your hands intensified the unspoken tension, leaving you breathless and uncertain how to navigate the intimate space between you.
"In that case," you began, gently retracting your hand from his grasp, "I suppose our night comes to an end."
As you spoke, Secondo remained silent, nodding in agreement while avoiding eye contact. He gestured toward the kitchen's door, prompting you to lead the way. Moving in silence, you felt the weight of your words, wondering if you had conveyed the wrong message. As you approached the front door, you hesitated, a desire to turn and look at him conflicting with the sense that you had just given an inadequate response.
Reaching the door, you stopped, making room for Secondo to open it for you. Gathering your courage, you glanced back at him, only to find his gaze fixed elsewhere. Sighing, you stepped outside, facing the corridor. Just as you were about to move on, he reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss on the back. As he released your hand, he remained silent, offering a small nod and a faint smile.
Taking a step back into his chambers, Secondo slowly closed the door, allowing for a prolonged gaze between you two. When the door finally shut completely, you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, exhaling heavily. Holding the hand he had kissed against your face with the other, you could feel your heart racing and your cheeks burning.
You hurriedly retreated to your chambers, not daring to glance back. No furtive glimpses, not even with the corner of your eye. Distance was your ally, and you needed to put as much of it between you and him as possible. The empty corridors allowed for swift, almost running steps, the only sounds being the echo of your hurried pace and the rapid beating of your heart.
Upon reaching the door to your chambers, you wasted no time and swung it open, entering in haste. As the door closed behind you, you leaned against the wooden surface, taking a moment to catch your breath before attempting to comprehend the whirlwind of emotions inside you.
Turning your gaze to your hand, the one he had just kissed, you were certain you could still feel the warmth of his lips on it. Driven by a mix of desire and bewilderment, you brought the hand closer to your face, hovering it near your lips. With closed eyes, you allowed yourself to savor the sensation, as if the residual heat from his kiss on your hand was transferring directly to your lips. It almost felt like...
You opened your eyes, fixating on your hand outstretched in front of you, prompting a sigh to escape your lips. As your gaze trailed the back of your hand, there it was—the imprint of his lips, the distinctive black lines from his face paint against the white. Your eyes softened, and you closed them once more. Bringing your hand close to your mouth, you allowed yourself to place a gentle kiss on the marked skin. As you withdrew your lips from your hands, the faint imprint of his kiss lingered. The sensation was as if you had just shared a kiss with Secondo, kindling a flame within you.
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The line for the confessional today was incredibly long. It wasn't your usual practice to engage in this, as you preferred to grapple with your sins in silence. Moreover, your role as a Deacon didn't mandate such confessions. However, during your free moments, you occasionally indulged in sharing your transgressions with the Cardinal of the week, the Minister, or even the Papa Emeritus himself.
The problem lay in the aftermath of the previous night, as an unusual sense of guilt and embarrassment gripped you. It was a sentiment you couldn't entirely comprehend, but the source of your embarrassment was clear – the intimate act with your hand that felt inherently wrong.
The queue for the confessional was filled with siblings eager to speak with Secondo. However, as his Deacon, you were well aware that he wouldn't be available today due to a busy morning. You found solace in the knowledge that he wouldn’t be the one hearing your thoughts, actions, and feelings today. Instead, the confessional would be attended by one of the Ministers from the Ministry, as per the schedule.
As the queue inched closer to your turn at the confessional, a sense of nervousness tinged your anticipation. You knew you needed to confess the guilt and embarrassment you felt from the previous night, but you were determined to keep the details superficial and avoid any mention of Secondo. The goal was to confide without revealing the true source of your inner turmoil, ensuring that whoever listened on the other side remained unaware of the specific circumstances.
After a brief wait, it was finally your turn at the confessional. As you stepped into it, the familiar scent of aged wood surrounded you, creating a somewhat comforting atmosphere. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts.
"Forgive me, Minister, for I've sinned," you began, your voice calm within the confines of the confessional.
Inside, a brief silence ensued, and you turned your head, catching a glimpse of the Minister's silhouette through the window. He nodded, prompting you to take a deep breath.
“I… I found myself in a situation that felt inappropriate,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I feel ashamed and embarrassed about it. I know I shouldn't feel ashamed, but I do.”
Turning your gaze to the silhouette once more, another nod from the Minister signaled for you to continue.
"I know that embracing desire is considered virtuous, and I shouldn't feel shame, but I do," you confessed, leaning against the confessional wall. "I find myself entangled in thoughts and feelings of lust with someone I shouldn't. He wasn't someone I desired before or maybe did; I regarded him as an equal, a friend. However, something has changed, he looks different now."
The Minister's silhouette stayed stoic, leaving you uncertain about whether to continue. However, you knew he wouldn't abandon the confessional.
"We've had some conversations in the last few days, and it's embarrassing because I shouldn't be feeling this way about him after such a short time, but the way he talks, the care he shows when I'm talking..." you smiled. "The way he expressed how he sees me... and other things. I start to feel like I've been blind whenever I was close to him or just ignored things I shouldn't have, and for that, I feel embarrassed. My sin today is this guilt inside of me."
You furrowed your brows as the silhouette remained stoic, leaving you unsure of how to proceed.
"Minister? Should I proceed?" you asked with uncertainty.
He nodded in response.
"I should be proud of what happened yesterday; after all, lust is embraced here. But, all I feel is guilt. Guilt for the desire I felt, for what I imagined with him," you sighed, closing your eyes and pressing your legs together. "For the longing for a kiss, just an innocent kiss," you murmured, opening your eyes. "I feel guilty for wanting my friend, for desiring him, for needing him."
You sighed, shifting your gaze to the silhouette on the other side of the confessional booth. The Magister remained a silent listener, patiently absorbing your words.
"I feel like I’m caught in this whirlwind of emotions," you confessed, your gaze dropping to your feet. "I'm starting to think maybe this attraction was always lurking around, unnoticed or dismissed. It's confusing – being drawn to him when it feels like I shouldn't. But," you grinned, "I can't shake the thoughts of him, and this curiosity to unravel more about who he really is."
You awaited a response, but the Minister stayed silent. The thought that they might have figured out who you were referring to started to gnaw at you, a tightening sensation in your stomach.
"Thank you, Minister, for listening," you expressed as you gently opened the confessional door and stepped out, leaving the weight of your confessions within its sacred space.
Exiting the confessional, you headed back to your cabinet, exiting the chapel. In the corridors, you spotted the Magister, you anticipated the conversation you had promised him yesterday. Inhaling deeply to prepare yourself, as you walked past him, however, he deliberately avoided your presence, not even bothering to meet your gaze.
Observing him stride away, a chuckle escaped your lips. It seemed Secondo had indeed managed to convey the message to leave you alone. As you continued to your cabinet, you passed by Secondo's office door, giving it a brief glance. He probably hadn't returned yet from the meeting he had scheduled for this morning. Reaching your own door, you opened it and stepped inside.
The rest of the day unfolded with an unusual quietness. Secondo didn't show up after the meeting hour, and there were no requests or messages from him. The typically atmosphere of his office, where you could hear the muffled sounds of him discussing matters with other siblings or working on various tasks, was eerily silent. You couldn't even catch a glimpse of him through the slightly open door of his office.
Despite the unusual circumstances, you decided to focus on your work. The Ministry's duties and responsibilities demanded your attention, and you knew that dwelling on Secondo's absence wouldn't serve any purpose. Your tasks as a Deacon required precision and dedication, and you delved into your responsibilities, pushing aside any thoughts about the peculiar events of the day.
Yet, you missed him.
As the hours passed, the normal rhythm of your work continued, and you worked on managing requests, coordinating schedules, and overseeing the operations within the Ministry. The day rolled on, and soon it was approaching the end of your work shift. Still, there was no sign of Secondo, and the unusual emptiness in his office lingered in the air. You wondered if something significant had occurred or if he simply had other matters to attend to. Regardless, you maintained your focus on your duties, determined to fulfill your responsibilities until the last moments of your workday.
The sudden knock on your door nearly startled you, prompting a swift rise from your chair. Fueled by the hope that it might be Secondo, you hurried to the door, anticipation coursing through you. However, to your disappointment, it was one of the ritualists who awaited you on the other side.
"It's quite late, and I understand if you've wrapped up your work, but I have some details for the upcoming ritual at the end of the week," he mentioned, gesturing with a folder in his hand.
"Please," you said, stepping back to allow him entry. "Come in."
He nodded, stepping into your cabinet. "It's not urgent. Honestly, you can address it tomorrow, but I needed someone reliable to take a look at the final document."
As you closed the door, you faced him. "You do realize you should have handed it to Papa, right?"
"Don't you know?" he inquired, noticing your confusion. "Papa didn't attend the morning meeting, and no one has seen him since then."
"What!?" you exclaimed, attempting to mask your emotions. "What do you mean?"
"I assumed you might knew," he said, placing the folder on your desk.
"I..." you glanced at Secondo's door. "I didn't..." you sighed, shifting your focus back to the ritualist. "Maybe he was just occupied for the day."
"Perhaps," he replied with a shrug. "Well, thanks for receiving me," he said, heading toward the door and opening it. "As I mentioned, don't stress about the files today; you can handle them tomorrow."
As the ritualist departed, closing the door behind him, you swiftly approached Secondo's office door connected to your cabinet. Pushing it open, you scanned the room. There was no indication that he had been in his office today. Unusual – it wasn't typical for Secondo to be absent from the office or working elsewhere without a clear reason.
A troubling thought surfaced: could his absence be tied to his date? Perhaps he was preparing for it, but was it today? Regardless, he wouldn’t neglect his responsibilities like this, especially not without keeping you informed.
Exiting his office, you returned to your cabinet. Without a second glance, you headed to your front door and left. Determined to locate Secondo, you were certain he would be in his chambers—the only place where he could remain hidden for an extended period without being spotted.
As you walked purposefully through the corridors, the urgency of finding Secondo fueled your steps. Upon reaching the entrance to Secondo’s chambers, a moment of hesitation overcame you before retrieving the spare keys hidden at the top of the door and pushing it open.
“Secondo?” No response. The silence pressed against your ears, amplifying the tension.
To your surprise, the room was empty. The subtle scent of incense hung in the air, but there was no sign of Secondo. The mysterious absence deepened your concern. Maybe he had left a clue, a note, or something that could shed light on his sudden disappearance. You began to search the room, checking every corner, every piece of parchment on his desk.
Nothing.
As you stood in the center of Secondo's chamber, uncertainty gripped you. Where could he be? The unanswered questions piled up, and a sense of foreboding weighed on your shoulders. An eerie silence enveloped the room. The air seemed to hold its breath.
Exiting his chambers, you headed back to your cabinet, determined to focus on the documents the ritualist had delivered. You pondered where else Secondo might be if not in his chambers. A sense of worry gnawed at you; his prolonged absence was unusual, especially for the entire day.
Arriving at your cabinet's door, you paused, taking a deep breath. Your gaze involuntarily flicked to Secondo's closed office door, searching for any hint of light beneath it. To your disappointment, there was none. Deciding not to dwell on it further, you pushed open your door. But, just as you were about to step inside, you found him already there, standing in front of your desk, holding the folder delivered by the ritualist.
"Secondo!" you exclaimed, stepping inside.
"Deacon," he said, meeting your gaze with a seemingly innocent expression. "I was wondering where you went."
"I should be the one asking that," you retorted. "What's going on? Where have you been?"
"In the... Ministry...?" he asked, arching a brow in mock innocence, placing the folder on your desk. "What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean!" you said, your tone sharpening. "You've been absent the entire day!" you said, stepping closer to him.
"Deacon..."
"No," you interrupted, pointing at him as you closed the distance. "Don't use my title or—"
“Pasticcina,” Secondo interjected. His tone remained steady but carried an unspoken weight.
As the familiar nickname reached you, you came to a sudden stop a few inches away from him. Casting a brief glance in his direction, you took in his unadorned appearance – no face paint, only wearing the clothes he typically donned under his Papa's robe.
“I had some personal matters to attend to,” Secondo explained, breaking the momentary silence. His eyes met yours, revealing something you couldn’t quite decipher.
“Personal matters?” you repeated, your tone a blend of skepticism and curiosity. “You were absent the whole day.”
He sighed, a hint of frustration evident. “There are aspects of my duties that require discretion. It’s nothing to concern yourself with, pasticcina.”
"What? Since when?" you said, frustration evident, releasing his hand. "Are you kidding me?" The heat of anger simmered within you. "Secondo, you've been absent the entire day. I assumed maybe a lengthy meeting, but it felt odd. No communication, no nothing throughout the day," you continued. "This isn't your usual behavior. You don't skip work, you don't disappear, and most importantly, not without..." Your words trailed off.
"Not without?" he inquired.
"Not without telling me," you sighed, turning away and rubbing your hands over your eyes. "I'm your Deacon; you can't pull disappearing acts without informing me about what's happening." As you faced him again, he stood unexpectedly close, the intensity of his presence catching you off guard.
"I didn't skip work today," he asserted, looking down at you. "I was working."
"Oh, were you?" you shot back with a defiant look, crossing your arms. "Really?"
"Sì?" he replied, mirroring your crossed arms. "Why would I lie to you?"
"I don't know, maybe for the same reason you hid from me the entire day?" you said, the anger still simmering. "I even thought that maybe your date was today, and you were..." you inhaled deeply. "there... with them." As you said it, your words came out laden with frustration and an unspoken hurt. "But, I've had enough of these vague answers, Secondo," you said, your frustration boiling over. "What happened today? You can't just disappear without a word."
He sighed, his gaze shifting away. "It was unexpected."
"Unexpected? That's all you're giving me?" you retorted, unconvinced. "Everyone in the Ministry was worried, and I was left in the dark."
"I'm sure no one was worried, pasticcina, and I apologize for the concern," he said, a hint of reluctance in his voice.
"You can't just—I'm the Deacon! I should know what's happening," you insisted, your eyes narrowing.
He paused, as if grappling with a decision. "Bene, I'll tell you," he conceded, meeting your gaze. "I was in a private duty today."
"A private duty?" you echoed, puzzled. "What could possibly be a private duty?"
He hesitated, then admitted, “I am the Papa Emeritus of the Ministry, after all. Sometimes, I need to be the listener,” he explained, a shadow of weariness crossing his features.
“A listener?” you questioned, still trying to grasp the extent of his absence.
“I skipped the meeting because I couldn’t shake off some of my thoughts. Then, I found myself in the confessional today,” he repeated, his tone revealing a deeper truth. “Listening to confessions. I wanted to offer guidance, to be there for those who needed it."
“So, it means that it was—” a sudden realization hit you. If Secondo was the one inside the confessional today...
Secondo gently reached for your face, cupping your cheek. “Do you want to talk about why you felt guilty?”
Your eyes widened as you looked at him. “I don’t.”
"Are you sure about that, pasticcina?" he inquired, his thumb lightly tracing the line of your jaw.
You tried to maintain composure. "I don't feel guilty."
He chuckled softly, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. "Confessionals are meant for honesty, you know."
You took a deep breath. "I don't have anything to confess," you insisted, though your gaze flickered with uncertainty.
"But you had," Secondo’s gaze held an unspoken challenge. “Don't hide your sins from me, pasticcina,” his thumb continued its gentle caress.
“I… I just...” you stammered, attempting to evade the specifics. Feeling the pressure, you took a step back, creating a slight distance between you and Secondo. His eyes followed your movement, and took a deep breath.
"You can talk to me," he persisted, closing the gap again, his gaze unwavering. "What happened?"
You continued to evade, attempting to maintain composure. "It's nothing, really."
He pursued you, narrowing the distance between you once more. "Tell me," he urged, his voice a soft but insistent whisper. "I want to help you to get rid of this feeling. Let me, your Papa, guide you."
As the space between you diminished, you met his gaze, and in a barely audible whisper, you admitted, "I feel guilty because of you."
A flicker of something unreadable crossed Secondo’s eyes as he maintained the proximity, absorbing your whispered admission. Before he could respond, you spoke up.
“I feel guilty,” you confessed, “for wanting you,” the words tumbled out, revealing the turmoil within. "But I shouldn't because we are friends... But yesterday, all I wanted for some reason was you, your touch, a kiss..."
Without a word, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The air seemed to pause, and then, with a gentle and unmistakable determination, he pressed his lips to yours. For a moment, he held still, leaving his lips lightly grazing yours, waiting for your response.
As you closed your eyes slowly, you took a deep breath, reciprocating the kiss. That was all the encouragement he needed. Secondo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.
Your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, fingers tracing patterns as your lips moved in harmony. Slowly, your hands caressed down to his belly before settling on the sides of his body. As you explored the contours, Secondo responded by unwrapping his arms from around you. His hands then journeyed to your face, cupping your cheeks with gentle warmth, intensifying the closeness of the moment.
As the kiss continued, the touch of your lips remained gentle and unhurried. Your hands, exploring the intricate contours of his body, moved with deliberate tenderness. Secondo's response was a mirrored reflection of the unhurried passion. He let his hands linger on your face, thumbs tracing gentle patterns along your cheeks.
And then, subtle shift occurred, and the tenderness transformed into a growing intensity. The unhurried kiss between you and Secondo began to deepen, the softness giving way to a more fervent exchange.
Your hands, once gentle in their exploration, tightened their hold with a newfound urgency. They traced the lines of his body, conveying a growing desire that mirrored the intensifying kiss. Secondo responded in kind, his touch on your face evolving from a gentle caress to a more passionate hold, fingers tracing their path to the back of your neck.
His fingers brushed against the back of your neck as his other hand firmly grasped your waist. Your bodies were pressed against each other, intensifying the kiss. A subtle sound escaped your lips, blending with a sigh as Secondo's grip on your waist tightened.
Tilting his head, Secondo’s tongue brushed against your lips, seeking entrance. However, you, sensing the path the kiss could lead you both, pulled away abruptly. The fire that had been building extinguished as you put a deliberate distance between you and Secondo.
Secondo's eyes, filled with concern, locked onto yours. This time, you turned your face to the side, glancing away. Undeterred, he gently held your chin, turning it back to face him.
"What's wrong?" he asked in a hushed tone, his lips just inches away.
"N-Nothing," you stammered, trying to hide the unease in your voice.
"Did I do something wrong?" His eyes conveyed a mix of worry and confusion.
"No..." you said, reaching for the hand on your chin, holding it in an attempt to convey reassurance. "Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"I just..." you started, your voice softening. "I knew where that kiss could lead, and it didn't feel right, especially considering..."
"Considering what?" Secondo inquired, his brow furrowing with confusion.
"...Considering you have a date," you replied.
Secondo’s gaze held deep emotions as he absorbed your words. “Ah, the date,” he remarked, his tone carrying a hint of ambiguity. “It’s just a date, pasticcina.”
“How come?” you inquired. “You’ve been preparing yourself for the last two days.”
He chuckled lightly, a softness in his eyes. “I need to tell you something about it."
"Look," you began, hugging your own arms around your body. "You don't have to."
"Pa—" Secondo started to protest.
You gently interjected, placing two of your fingers on his lips. "It's fine. You have your date. I was just confusing things, and we're just friends, right?" A small, reassuring smile graced your lips.
"Pasticcina..." he said against your fingers on his lips. He gently took your hand, the one that covered his lips, and brought it to his own cheek, holding it there. "Don't do it like that. Don't say things like that," his eyes pleaded with yours. "Listen to me."
You retracted your hand from his face and leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "It's all fine," you whispered close to his cheek, hovering your nose near it. "I should be going now. I'm sorry for what I said at the confessional and for what I said now. I guess I just lost myself for a moment. That was a mistake."
As you uttered those words, you took a decisive step away from Secondo, moving towards the door. The weight of unspoken emotions lingered in the air, and amidst the charged atmosphere, you heard Secondo calling your name. The temptation to look back tugged at you, but you resisted. Turning back would only complicate things, and deep down, you knew you shouldn't. In the end, it all became a silent struggle between the desire to stay and the doubt if leaving was the right choice.
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Lying in bed, you remained still, the passing minutes or perhaps hours slipping by unnoticed. The events of the previous night lingered in your thoughts, casting a peculiar spell over your mind. As you replayed the scene, questions swirled, and a prominent one stood out – why did he kiss you? The weight of that unanswered question settled in your mind, weaving a web of contemplation as the kiss seemed like a gesture of compassion, as if your revelation might prompt Secondo to grant you your deepest longing at that instant. However, he wouldn't behave in such a manner, not just with you, but with anyone else. This wasn't the Secondo you were familiar with.
Immersed in your contemplations, the persistent curiosity continued to tug at your thoughts. It resembled a puzzle with crucial pieces missing, each reflection spawning more unanswered questions. In an attempt to regain focus, you decided to rise, take a shower, and prepare for the day. As a member of his Clergy, your responsibilities called for attention, and dwelling on thoughts of him could no longer detain you in bed. Nevertheless, the images from the previous night lingered in your mind. A subtle but undeniable sense of change permeated your thoughts, leaving you with a perplexing feeling that the nature of this shift eluded your understanding.
Setting those lingering thoughts aside, you proceeded with your bath. Once you were done, you exited the bathroom and returned to your room to attire yourself for the day. Despite being plagued by the memory of Secondo's lingering kiss, you remained committed to fulfilling your duties, even if starting the day later than planned.
As you left your room and made your way to the cabinet, you hoped that immersing yourself in work would serve as a welcomed distraction. Your silent pleas for tranquility were directed to the Dark One as you navigated the corridors. In a way, you found yourself praying to avoid encountering Secondo, at least for the time being. Yet, it seemed the Dark One remained indifferent to your pleads.
"Deacon," Secondo's voice reached your ears as you halted in front of your door.
You took a deep breath before turning to face him. "Papa," you acknowledged.
Secondo lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on you, then cleared his throat. "I— Will you be attending the lunch meeting today?"
"Maybe," you replied, uncertainty lacing your words.
Secondo's eyes held a subtle intensity, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension between you two from the previous night. As you exchanged glances, the atmosphere seemed to sway between hot and cold, the lingering memory of the kiss casting a shadow over you both.
"Maybe," you repeated, your response holding a hint of reservation.
"Decisions regarding the upcoming ritual need to be discussed," Secondo remarked, shifting the conversation. "Your presence is crucial in this, Deacon. The ritual details demand meticulous attention."
You nodded. "Certainly, Papa. However, I thought all the details had already been finalized."
Secondo parted his lips, seemingly about to say something, but the door to his office creaked open. A Sister of sin emerged, casting a curious glance in your direction.
"Papa," she called him, a subtle smile playing on her lips.
"Ah, sorella," Secondo acknowledged, his focus briefly shifting. "Deacon, we shall resume this discussion later," he said it, entering his office.
You retreated from the corridor, entering your cabinet as the door to Secondo's office closed behind him and the Sister of sin. The encounter left a questions in your mind, a quiet curiosity about the identity of the sister and the nature of their interaction. Could she be the date Secondo had been preparing for? The thought lingered, but you pushed it aside, realizing that this wasn't the moment to dwell on such matters.
You had a portion of work to complete before the lunch meeting, and that became your immediate focus. Whoever the Sister in Secondo's office was creeping your thoughts. To the point you had to remind yourself: you're friends, he has a date, the kiss was a mistake, merely a result of your inadvertent encouragement. This internal mantra aimed to clear the air of any unresolved tensions as you delved into your tasks.
And then, doubts lingered in the recesses of your mind. What if you were wrong? What if Secondo desired the kiss as much as you did, and your inadvertent admission gave him the courage to express his own feelings? But you pushed aside those thoughts.
But, unfortunately, nothing could entirely distract you from the thoughts about Secondo and suddenly, you found yourself standing in front of his door, clutching some papers as a feeble excuse to engage in conversation. Hesitation seized you, torn between knocking and retreating. The uncertainty loomed, as if uttering words might unravel the mystery, yet also deepen the intricate layers of your connection with Secondo.
You knocked on the door, but there was no immediate response. A subtle anxiety crept in, contemplating the possibility that Secondo might be deliberately ignoring you. Knocking again, the silence persisted, leaving a sense of unease. Pressing your ear against the door, you strained to catch any sound from within. Unable to resist, you pushed the door open, only to find Secondo's office empty.
Surveying the room, you found no trace of Secondo, except for his mitra on the desk and his robe hanging in its usual spot. You stepped inside, making your way towards the desk. Your fingers traced the contours of his mitra, and a silent reflection crept you. With a sigh, you carefully placed the mitra back where it belonged.
Your fingers traced over some papers on top of his desk, absentmindedly observing them. Before you could delve into their contents, his office door swung open, prompting you to swiftly redirect your attention towards him as he entered.
"Deacon?" Secondo said as he entered the room, his gaze meeting yours.
"Papa," you responded, maintaining a composed demeanor.
He approached his desk, eyeing the papers you had touched with a subtle curiosity. "Is there something you need? How is work?"
"No, not really. I was just finalizing some documents for the upcoming ritual," you explained, your tone professional as you placed the folders on his desk. "Do you have any specific preferences or changes you'd like to make?"
Secondo paused, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "No, proceed as planned. But, that's something we should discuss at the lunch," he added.
"Understood," you replied.
"So shall we?" Secondo inquired, his eyes holding a subtle invitation.
"Shall we... what?" you responded, a touch of confusion in your tone.
"The lunch meeting," he clarified, his gaze lingering on you. "It's almost time for it."
“Already?” you questioned, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall. The realization hit you – you had been away from your cabinet since the early hours of the morning, losing track of your usual morning routine.
Turning your gaze back to him, you nodded in agreement. Secondo graciously pushed the door open for you, and you began to walk in its direction, with him following suit. As you both exited his office, Secondo closed the door behind him and gave a friendly pat on your back, signaling for you to start walking together. Following his lead, you stepped in stride with him.
"Papa," you called, turning to face him, your gaze seeking his attention.
"Hm?" he responded with a casual sound, maintaining his forward gaze.
"Are you okay?" you inquired, tilting your head.
"Sì, Deacon," he replied. "You?"
"Good," you nodded, turning your attention back to the corridor.
As you both continued walking towards the meeting place, you noticed that Secondo's hand remained on your back, providing an oddly comforting yet tense sensation. The prolonged contact sent a subtle shiver through your entire body.
"Papa," you called out once more.
"Sì?" he replied, his voice slightly raspy.
"About the ritual," you began, your tone shifting to a more serious note. "Is everything in place?"
"As far as I know, everything is in order," he reassured.
"That's good to hear," you nodded, appreciatively.
"Of course," Secondo affirmed.
"Pap—"
Secondo’s hand left your back and gripped the back of your neck. In a swift motion, he turned, pressing you against the wall. However, his other hand intercepted the impact, ensuring your head wouldn’t hit the hard surface. The unexpected closeness made your heart race as you locked eyes with him.
"Stop," Secondo's voice held a seriousness that caught you off guard. "Stop treating me like the others," he furrowed his brows. "You're not like that."
"But, we are in public, and normally I call you—"
Secondo interjected, leaning closer, his hand finding the wall right next to your head. "There is no one around us."
"Does it matter?" you retorted, trying to maintain a semblance of composure despite the closeness. "We have roles to play, Secondo. We are just keeping up with our roles."
His gaze lingered on yours, holding frustration and something deeper. "Our roles?" he scoffed. "We're not puppets, and this... pretending is driving me insane."
"You? Insane?" you challenged, your voice almost a whisper. "What are you trying to say, Secondo?"
He pulled back slightly, but his eyes remained locked onto yours. "I'm saying that..."
Before Secondo could say it, the distant sound of footsteps reached both of you, echoing through the corridor. Secondo swiftly pulled back, his expression unreadable. A shadowy figure approached the scene. It was a Sibling of Sin, their presence injecting an element of formality into the atmosphere. Secondo straightened himself, adopting a more composed demeanor.
The Sibling passed through, offering a polite nod to both of you. As she disappeared down the corridor, Secondo took a moment to compose himself. He resumed his walk to the lunch meeting, and you followed suit. An uneasy silence settled between the two of you, and perhaps for the first time, his silence weighed heavily on you.
Upon reaching the lunch meeting place, Secondo paused at the entrance. Sensing something amiss, you moved closer and rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“Secondo, are you okay?” you asked, concern etched on your face.
He cast a quick, vulnerable glance at you. "I—," he sighed and shifted his gaze to meet yours. "Did I mess everything up?"
"What are you talking about?" you inquired, your hand moving from his shoulder to gently cup his cheek.
Secondo took a deep breath, his eyes holding hesitation and longing. "About last night..." he began.
"What about it?" you asked, searching his eyes for clues.
"The kiss," he said, almost in a whisper. "Was it a mistake?"
Your heart fluttered, but you held back your true feelings. "Everything is okay, Secondo," you replied, offering a reassuring smile. "No need to worry about it."
Secondo's eyes lingered on yours, a silent plea hidden within them. "Deacon," he started.
Your heart raced at the intensity of his gaze. "Y-yes?" you inquired, your voice slightly shaky.
“I need to know,” Secondo began cautiously, “Was the kiss a mistake?”
“It wasn’t a mistake,” you admitted, “but it was just a moment, right?”
He looked away for a moment, grappling with his own thoughts. “I don’t want to complicate things,” he said.
You reached out and embraced Secondo. “It doesn’t have to complicate anything,” you whispered. “We’re still friends. Don’t worry.”
He hesitated for a moment, then his arms circled around you in return, holding you closer. Secondo pulled back slightly, his hands lingering on your shoulders. “I just don’t want to lose what we have, pasticcina.”
You looked up at him, your gaze meeting his. “You won’t,” you assured him. “Now, let’s go in for the lunch meeting, and we can talk about that later."
"No," he softly uttered, releasing your shoulders. "Deacon, we need to talk now."
"I'm listening," you replied, grabbing one of his hands.
But before he could say anything, the door of the meeting room where the lunch was happening opened, prompting you to release his hand. Turning your head, you looked at the ritualist who stood there in front of you, while Secondo's attention was solely fixed on the fact that you had left his hand. His gaze was locked on his hand without yours, seemingly indifferent to the presence of the ritualist.
"Papa!" he exclaimed, relief in his voice. "I was about to go find you," he said turning his eyes to you. "And I can see the Deacon will grace us with their presence today."
You nodded in acknowledgment with a polite smile. Secondo, however, maintained a stoic expression. The ritualist gestured toward the open door, signaling for you both to enter the meeting room. Secondo finally moved and entered, and you followed suit, stepping inside after him. As the ritualist closed the door and returned to his seat, Secondo turned to you, lowering his head closer to yours.
"We will talk later," he whispered, his words brushing close to your ear.
As he pulled away, you couldn't help but feel the lingering anticipation of a conversation yet to unfold. You looked at him, nodding slowly. Secondo shot you a small grin and moved towards the main chair. Taking a deep breath, you walked to your chair as well, settling in among the other members of the clergy.
As the lunch meeting unfolded, you found yourself engrossed in discussions about the upcoming ritual. The atmosphere was tense, with various opinions being exchanged. Despite the serious nature of the conversation, your eyes kept drifting to Secondo, who was seated across the room. You couldn't help but notice his gaze lingering on you as well. Every time your eyes met, a subtle tension hung in the air, creating a silent dialogue that seemed to transcend the confines of the meeting room.
As the meeting concluded, Clergy members began rising from their seats, making their way towards the exit. You and Secondo followed suit, standing up to leave the room. Together, you walked back together towards your offices. Even in the short distance, you could feel the electrifying tension between you two. His hand brushed against yours a few times, sending a rush of warmth through your body, yet he didn't hold it. Instead, his pinky finger subtly grazed yours, a playful and intimate touch that made you blush.
Secondo's gaze swept over the surroundings, his hand gripping yours gently with interwoven fingers. "Are you too busy this afternoon?" he inquired, his voice lowered.
You turned to meet his gaze and shook your head in the negative.
"Molto bene," he nodded once. "So, would you come with me to my office, sì?"
"Y-yes..." you stammered, a lingering blush on your cheeks, and a newfound layer of shyness stemming from the gentle hold of his hand. "But why?"
"Because we need to talk," he replied.
"Oh!" you exclaimed, anxiety momentarily overshadowing the lingering shyness. You took a deep breath. "O-Of course."
He hummed in contentment, his lips curving into a grin as you continued walking to his office, hands still entwined. The sensation was almost overwhelming for you; feeling him this way was different. Though you had held hands before, this time it carried a distinct and unfamiliar weight. It felt different—you felt different.
Yet, this did little to soothe your nerves. Whatever he wanted to discuss was causing a ripple of worry within you. Today, Secondo seemed different—somewhat distant and cold, while also exuding a combination of incisiveness and sentimentality. However, beneath these conflicting emotions, there lingered a sense that he was grappling with something, something elusive that you couldn't quite decipher. The ambiguity might be attributed to his usual reserved demeanor or the enigmatic face paint that adeptly concealed his emotions when left unspoken.
Upon reaching his office, Secondo maintained his grip on your hand, and you could sense a subtle tightening as he reached for the doorknob. Deliberately turning it, he took a deep breath that caused his shoulders to rise. As the door swung open, he swiftly released your hand and stood motionless in front of the entrance. Intrigued, you took a step closer, realizing Terzo was inside the office.
Terzo turned his head towards the door, glancing at Secondo before directing a warm smile your way. "Secondo," he started, turning his gaze back to him. "I apologize for not waiting, but a sibling informed me you were in a lunch meeting, so I assumed it wouldn't be a problem to come in."
Secondo chuckled lightly. "Nessun problema, Terzo," he replied, making his way into the office. "Cosa ti porta qui?"
"Solo alcune questioni da discutere e..." he paused, shifting his gaze in your direction. "Are you busy, fratello? I can come back later if you and Deacon were in the middle of something important."
Secondo glanced over his shoulder, and you responded with a gentle smile. "We..." He turned his body towards you, bringing the office door with him and briefly closing it behind him.
"We can talk later, don't worry," you reassured him in a soft tone as your eyes connected with his.
Secondo nodded, bringing his body closer to yours. His gaze alternated between your eyes and your lips, creating a subtle tension in the air. He took a deep breath, and you instinctively held yours, creating a moment of profound silence as you faced each other. His hand, having left the doorknob, gently cupped your cheek. In a tender gesture, he caressed your cheek with his thumb, the warmth of the gesture lingering for what felt like an eternity.
Secondo withdrew his hand gently off your cheek, leaving you with a subtle shiver and a lingering yearning for the warmth of his touch. His gaze held yours, as if concealing untold sentiments, prompting you to tilt your head in curiosity. Secondo chuckled softly, shaking his head, and you responded with a gentle nod while gesturing towards the door. A sigh and a playful eye roll from him made you giggle silently, relishing the special way you both communicated without words.
His hand returned to the doorknob, and he slowly pushed the door open, walking backward into the room without breaking eye contact. Once inside, you bid him a little wave, and with a final glance, he closed the door.
You finally released the breath you were holding, closing your eyes for a moment as a smile painted your face. It was undeniably something new, a novel feeling, but this wasn't the moment for deep contemplation. Composing yourself, you opened your eyes and headed towards the door of your cabinet, conveniently located next to his office. With a swift motion, you opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind you.
As you entered your cabinet, you realized that waiting for Secondo to finish whatever he was doing with Terzo would stretch the afternoon into seemingly endless hours of pure boredom. With everything settled for the ritual, your workload was minimal, and the waiting game became an exercise in patience.
The minutes dragged on, and you found yourself organizing your cabinet, rearranging things as a distraction from the persistent anticipation. However, the waiting made concentration difficult. Your thoughts kept circling back to what Secondo wanted to discuss, creating a feeling of uncertainty that hung heavily in the quiet space.
In an attempt to quell the restlessness, you picked up a few documents, but your mind struggled to focus. The ticking of the clock seemed louder than usual, each passing second amplifying the sense of anticipation and making the afternoon feel interminable. The hours ahead stretched before you, laden with the weight of waiting.
After pacing back and forth in your cabinet for a while, you returned to your desk, sinking into your chair with a sigh. However, before you could settle in, a distinct knock echoed through your door. You turned your head towards it, recognizing it as his unmistakable pattern.
Swiftly getting up from your chair, you made your way to the door connecting your cabinet to his office. With a smooth motion, you opened it, revealing him on the other side.
"Hi," you greeted as your eyes locked.
Secondo casually lifted an arm, supporting it on the doorframe, leaning slightly in your direction. "Hi," he replied, his gaze focused on you.
The closeness of his presence prompted a subtle blush, but you composed yourself, taking a deep breath. "Was everything okay with Terzo?" you asked.
"Sì," he nodded. "Niente di importante." His gaze held yours, a moment of silent understanding passing between you. Secondo straightened, pushing off the doorframe, and took a step closer. "Can we continue our talk?" he asked, his tone carrying a mix of seriousness and something you couldn't quite decipher.
You nodded. "Of course, Secondo. Let's talk."
As you gestured for him to enter your cabinet, he caught your wrist, leading you into his office. With his free hand, he closed the door behind you.
"Deacon," he said, however, before he could begin, a distinct knock echoed through the room. Secondo tried to ignore it, intending to continue the conversation, but another knock interrupted once again. "Not again," an exasperated sigh escaped Secondo. "Come with me, let them knock," he took you by the hand, steering you towards the archive room of his office.
“What are we doing here? We could have stayed at the office, whoever it was wouldn't come in,” your grip on his hand got firm. “I can smell the dust from this place,” you chuckled as he closed the door.
"I've been lying to you," he confessed, his words tumbling out rapidly.
Your eyes widened in surprise and nervousness. "Huh? What? What do you mean?" you inquired, the anxiety evident in your voice. "What are you saying? Lying to me? Since when? About what?"
"Let me explain," he sighed. "I've been lying to you because there was no date, no one else. It was just an excuse."
You furrowed your brows in confusion. "What are you talking about? An excuse for what?"
He sighed, his grip on your hand tightening. "I wanted to ask you out. I wanted to take you on a date, but I didn't know how to do it without making things awkward. So, I said I had a date because I got nervous. I didn't want to jeopardize our friendship or make you uncomfortable, I also couldn't bear the thought of you saying 'no'."
"That's quite a revelation," your voice dropped to a hushed tone, your eyes widening in understanding. "So, all those 'practice' sessions were just a pretext?"
Secondo nodded solemnly. "I apologize. I know it's selfish, but I couldn't bear the thought of hearing you reject me. The pain would be greater than finding myself in heaven instead of hell."
"Secondo, your honesty means a lot to me," you said in a low tone. "But, I'm confused. Why didn't you just ask?"
He paused before responding. "I was afraid it would change everything between us, and I didn't want to risk losing you. I thought this approach would give me a chance to muster the courage to speak up, but it didn't until now, or yesterday. The fact that I have kissed you the way I did, and hearing you calling it as a 'mistake' made feel like if I had ruined everything. When deep down... All I wanted was you to see a different side of me, to understand me better, and maybe... I don't know... see me? Admitting it now makes me feel foolish."
"Don't say that," you took a deep breath. "Secondo, you should have just asked me. You're not going to lose me, and you don't need excuses. I'm sorry for calling the kiss a mistake, but I thought it was based on the fact that you had a 'date' and I was trying to ignore the fact that I wanted that, that I wanted to kiss you, but I was telling myself how wrong it was to want you. But if you asked me on a date before, I would have said 'yes'."
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You mean all of that?"
"Yes," you said, your smile tender. "Well, initially, I'd might be a bit shocked, perhaps a little surprised if you called me on a date. I'd probably even think you were just being funny," you giggled, placing a gentle hand on his chest and caressing it. "But, without a doubt, I would have said 'yes' because spending time with you is always good."
Secondo's gaze softened, and he gently placed his hand on top of yours. "Forgive me for being selfish," he said with sincerity.
A warm smile graced your lips. "Consider it forgiven."
Secondo's eyes searched yours, uncertainty reflecting in his gaze. "So, you'd go on a date with me?" he inquired, his gaze earnest.
With a playful smile, you reached up, gently cupping his face, and leaned in, pressing a tender kiss onto his lips. As you pulled away from the kiss, a soft chuckle escaped you. "Well, I guess that answers your question, Secondo," you teased. "But only if you promise to not practice with me anymore."
He laughed. "Bene. No more practice, just real ones with you."
You nodded, and as the distance between you and Secondo closed, your lips found each other in a tender and sweet kiss. His hand, which had been holding yours, traced a path from your waist to the small of your back, drawing you closer. Simultaneously, you wrapped your arms around his neck, savoring the warmth motion of his lips against yours.
The kiss unfolded in a slow and sweet rhythm, both of you cherishing the tenderness of the moment. As your arms enveloped each other, you could sense Secondo's faint smile against your lips. His hand left the small of your back and moved to your face, cupping it gently as he intensified the kiss. Feeling the warmth of his touch, you tilted your head, inviting him to deepen the connection. However, just as the intensity peaked, he pulled back abruptly and sneezed.
Your expression shifted from a dazed look to a bemused one as you realized the abrupt interruption. A soft chuckle escaped your lips, and you raised an amused eyebrow.
"Apologies," he managed to say between sneezes, the unexpected reaction making him chuckle heartily. "I guess I've made a wrong choice of place."
You chuckled in response. "Better for us to get out of here then," you said.
"Before we leave," he looked into your eyes, with seriousness and anticipation in his gaze. "I..." he began, causing you to tilt your head, curious about what was on his mind.
"You...?"
Secondo took a deep breath, and the words spilled out, "Would you allow me to take you on a proper date tonight?" A smile played on Secondo's lips, his eyes searching yours for a response.
You felt a flutter in your chest and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth. "I would be delighted," you replied, your voice carrying a light teasing tone. "A proper date sounds like a wonderful idea."
Secondo's features softened, and he nodded appreciatively. The depths of his mismatched eyes held your attention. As Secondo leaned in, drawing closer to your face, you closed your eyes, feeling the anticipation build. However, just as you expected the connection to intensify, Secondo paused, pulling back abruptly to sneeze once again.
A laugh bubbled up from within you at the unexpected sneeze, and Secondo raised a questioning brow. He quickly shook his head, placing a finger to his lips in a playful hush. Without missing a beat, he reached for your hand, guiding you out of the archive room.
As you exited the archive room, returning to his office, Secondo gently pulled you closer and pressed a kiss onto the back of your hand, his thumb caressing the spot tenderly. "Can I pick you up at your room later?"
You nodded, a hint of timidity in your response.
Secondo grinned, pressing another kiss onto the back of your hand. He then placed your hand against his cheek, holding it there, cupping your hand with his. "I look forward to it," he replied with a soft smile, his gaze fixed on yours. Secondo's hand lingered, his fingers gently entwining with yours.
"You enjoy making me wait, don't you?" You teased retracting your hand from his face, slowly. "I'll see you later then."
As you turned to leave, Secondo gently caught your hand, pulling you back with a playful smile. "Only a little. Builds anticipation, sì?"
"I guess I'll have to endure the suspense then," you sighed with a touch of dramatic flair.
Secondo chuckled, gracefully letting go of your hand. "But wait, there's one more thing,"
Your curiosity piqued, you inquired, "What is it?"
Secondo cradled your face delicately with both hands, his touch tender, before placing a lingering kiss on your lips. As he pulled away, a gentle kiss landed on your forehead, and he looked down at you. "This is good."
"What is good?" you murmured.
"Le tue labbra," he replied, closing his eyes and leaning in for another tender kiss, capturing your lips in a moment of warmth.
The initial kiss was slow, gentle, and sweet, as if savoring the taste of a forbidden fruit. It left a lingering sensation of ecstasy. Every touch of the lips sent shivers through both of you, creating an undeniable need for more. Both of you surrendered to that desire, and the kiss intensified, the connection growing deeper.
Secondo's hands, which initially cradled your face, now traced a path down your back, pulling you closer. The tender exploration of lips became more fervent, a dance of passion and longing. His lips moved with deliberate precision, molding against yours as if searching for a perfect fit.
His hands, warm and reassuring, traced gentle paths along your body, creating a sensory map of desire. Your hands found their way to the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. Unable to resist the magnetic pull, Secondo led you to his desk, leaning you against it with a controlled urgency. The kiss became a deeper exploration, his lips demanded more, conveying a hunger that echoed in the shared breaths and mingling sighs.
As the kiss intensified, your bodies pressed together, Secondo's hands explored the curves of your body, his touch gentle yet possessive. You pressed your body even closer to his, a silent invitation for more. Subtly, you spread your legs, granting him more space, and Secondo wasted no time. Almost instantly, he adjusted his position, aligning himself with the new angle.
His hands, now exploring the contours of your thighs, pulled your hips against his, placing your legs around his hips. The sudden shift made you arch your back, a gasp escaping your lips, as you felt his hardness pressing against the warmth between your legs.
The passion heightened and you found yourself instinctively grinding against him, a subtle and spontaneous movement that drew a low groan from Secondo. The sound reverberated through the room causing you to press your legs around his hips firmly.
Feeling the vibration of your response, Secondo gently pulled away from the kiss, both breathless and dazed. His hands, which had been on your thighs, now migrated to your face. He tilted it, giving him enough space to press a series of wet kisses onto your neck.
The wet warmth of his kisses left a trail of sensations, causing a shiver to run down your spine. However, you gently pressed your hands against his chest, guiding him away from your neck. Secondo gazed at you with a perplexed expression, prompting a chuckle from you. Closing the distance, you bestowed a tender peck on his lips, causing him to briefly close his eyes.
"If you keep going, our planned date might not happen," you whispered against his lips.
Secondo groaned in frustration. "And why is that?" he asked, his lips brushing against yours.
"Because you're jumping straight to how I want the end of our date to be," you replied, biting your lower lip and trailing your hands down to his belly.
Secondo, with a tender smile, continued. "Now I can't wait for the later part of our date then."
You couldn't help but return his smile, "Well, if you manage to behave yourself now, I might just consider it."
He raised an eyebrow playfully, "Behave?" He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. "I'll be the epitome of good behavior, just for you."
You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face betrayed your amusement. Secondo chuckled, withdrawing his hands from your face and guiding them back to your thighs, where he began to gently caress. His touch lingered for a while before he took a step back, allowing both of you ample space to recompose.
"At what hour should I pick you up?" Secondo asked, scratching the back of his head.
You paused, considering his question. "I don't have any more work today. Nothing urgent. If there's anything left for the ritual, I believe I've already provided it, and everything should be ready, right?"
Secondo let out a sigh, his eyes holding yours. "Unfortunately, I need you to review some documents Terzo left for me."
"Oh," you responded with a nod, making your way to his direction. "Certainly, what are you looking for?"
"I'd like you to carefully go through these papers, verify the information, and if any changes or corrections are needed, you know the routine, sì?" he explained, handing you the documents from his table.
"Absolutely, Secondo," you assured him, taking the papers. "I'll get on it right away. Since I have some work to do, I'll head back to my cabinet to focus on this task."
He reached for your waist, his thumb gently caressing it in small circles. "I have full confidence in your abilities, but you just have to give it a look and see if everything is in order," he stood up, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. "Now, any preferences for our evening plans?"
You pretended to ponder for a moment. "Hmm, surprise me. Just keep it interesting, and I'm all in."
Secondo nodded, and as you leaned in for a sweet moment, he did the same, resulting in a clumsy meeting of lips at the midpoint, sharing a gentle kiss at the corners of each other's mouths. Pulling back, you chuckled at the minor mishap, noticing Secondo furrowing his brows in annoyance. To prevent a repeat, Secondo cradled your head with both hands, planting a tender kiss on your forehead.
With that, you tilted your head towards him, subtly hinting at the desire for a more substantial kiss, and perhaps you were. Yet, Secondo didn't succumb to your charm. Instead, he gently held your chin and planted a delicate kiss on your lips, almost as if it were a feather-light caress.
You gazed at him, a mix of frustration and pleading in your eyes, your lips forming an almost pout. Secondo chuckled and shook his head. "As you mentioned earlier, we can't skip to the end of the date. Trust me, I'm just as eager to kiss you more. I've waited a long time for this," he admitted with a hint of longing.
"Have you?" you teased, biting your lower lip and looking at him with a mischievous glint. "How long?" you inquired in a hushed tone, leaning in. However, before you could bridge the gap, Secondo interrupted you by gently placing a finger on your lips. "Sec—!"
Before you could finish, he silenced you with a lingering kiss, interrupting your words. You smiled with his lips pressed against yours, taking a deep breath as he slowly pulled back. You maintained your smile as his eyes met yours. Secondo hummed in contentment, though a hint in his eyes betrayed the restraint he exercised in not kissing you again as passionately as before. You, too, desired it, especially considering the consequences of that kiss, consequences you weren't sure you were ready to face.
Recognizing the temptation he exuded, you wondered if it was influenced by the power he held as the highest satanic figure in the ministry. It wouldn't be surprising, given his proximity to the Dark Lord. However, there were still tasks to attend to before the date.
Exiting his office, you gave him a wave, and his eyes lingered on you until you reached your cabinet, closing the door behind you. Moving directly to your desk, you neatly placed the papers on it, straightening your posture before settling into your chair.
As you delved into the papers, the initial set seemed routine—standard proceedings of the ministry that required Secondo's signature. Everything appeared to be in order, so you moved on to the next document. However, the tone shifted when you encountered one discussing retirement. Your focus intensified as the words unfolded a revelation: Secondo was to be replaced by his younger brother, Terzo.
A sense of disbelief settled in as you retraced your steps to the first set of papers, realizing they were meant for the new leader, not Secondo. Continuing to read, the details painted a picture of a succession plan. After the upcoming ritual, Secondo was expected to prepare himself for the transition, handing over the reins to Terzo. The emotions intensified—shock, disbelief, and a growing sense of unease. You grappled with the unspoken truth that your moments with Secondo were poised on the edge of a significant change, a change he had kept concealed.
The documents unfolded like chapters in an unexpected narrative, each revelation carrying a weight that settled heavily on your shoulders. The impending succession, the shift in leadership, and the unspoken truths left you in a whirlwind of emotions. As you continued to read, the words became more than ink on paper—they became the unraveling of a reality you hadn't anticipated. The emotions surged, astonishment, apprehension, and an underlying sense of loss.
As you absorbed the weight of the revelations, indignation surged through you. How could Secondo have given you those papers without a single word of explanation? The sense of betrayal fueled your urgency, and you sprang from your chair, marching toward his office with a storm of emotions brewing within you.
The door swung open forcefully, a loud bang echoing in the room, but to your dismay, all that greeted you was an empty chair. Secondo was nowhere to be found. Running your hands through your hair, you took a deep breath, attempting to rein in the frustration and confusion that threatened to overwhelm you. You felt the urge to confront him, to demand an explanation for this clandestine revelation, but reason prevailed. He was cunning, slipping away before you could confront him. However, you knew where to find him – soon enough, he would be in your room.
Resolute, you made your way to the main door of his office, pushing it open and stepping out, leaving behind the empty space. The corridors of the ministry felt like an intricate maze as you navigated through them, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts about Secondo's impending retirement. The prospect of not seeing him with the same frequency, the shift in your role as his brother's Deacon, and the nagging question of why he hadn't shared this crucial information occupied your mind. Each step seemed to echo your internal turmoil, and as you approached your room, the heaviness in your heart became more pronounced.
Entering the room, you stripped away your clothes, preparing for a bath to ease the tension that had coiled within you. Submerged in the water, you allowed yourself a moment of vulnerability, letting silent sobs meld with the sound of rushing water.
Emerging from the bath, you draped a towel around your body and returned to the room, contemplating the choice of your outfit. The question lingered—did it really matter how you dressed now? Nevertheless, you selected your clothes, arranging them on the bed. Suddenly, a knock on the door echoed inside your room, and you took a deep breath, focusing on maintaining appearances as you made your way towards it.
As you opened the door, there he stood, having changed his clothes already. The familiar scent of his cologne, intensified now, filled the air. The notes of the perfume, a strong blend of cedarwood and musk, lingered, creating an almost palpable atmosphere. He held a small bouquet of tulips in his hand. Though the bouquet consisted of just four tulips, the gesture felt both delicate and meaningful. The scent of the tulips added a layer of floral sweetness, momentarily distracting you from the turmoil within.
"Would it be better if I return later? I assumed you'd be ready by now," he questioned.
You took a steadying breath, trying to conceal the emotional turbulence as you faced Secondo at the doorway. "No, it's fine," you replied, managing a composed tone. "I was just deciding what to wear."
His grip on the bouquet tightened, betraying an underlying tension that mirrored the unspoken complexities of the situation. "Should I wait outside?" he offered, his eyes reflecting the uncertainty.
Shaking your head, your gaze pierced onto his. "No," your voice emerged slightly raspy. "Come in," you said, stepping away to grant him passage.
He entered your room, and a palpable air of unease enveloped the space. He cautiously closed the door behind him, and you turned away, pretending to focus on selecting an outfit from your wardrobe, although you had already placed the chosen outfit on your bed. The clothes blurred in front of you as you grappled with the turmoil within.
Placing the tulips delicately on the bedside table, Secondo's eyes lingered on the carefully chosen clothes you had laid out. With a subtle smile, he made his way towards you. "I know you've read the papers."
You turned to face him, your eyes revealing a tumult of emotions. "Why didn't you tell me, Secondo?"
He sighed, shoulders sagging as if relieved. "I wanted to, but I couldn't find the right time or the right words. I didn't want to burden you."
Anger, hurt, and confusion battled within you. "So, you thought giving me the papers without a word was the solution?"
He reached for your hand. "No, it wasn't the right way. I should have told you, but I couldn't find a way to."
Inhaling deeply, you briefly covered your face with your hands. "Secondo, please, just be honest with me. What's going on? First, the lies about your date, and now you're keeping things from me. What's really happening?" You implored, uncovering your face as your hands fell away. "We've been friends for a long time, and this isn't like you. Just," you sighed, "tell me what's going on with you."
Secondo met your gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to keep anything from you,” he confessed. “It’s just… there are changes, and I wanted to handle them before burdening you with it. But you deserve honesty, and I owe you an explanation.”
You nodded.
"On the day of the lunch meeting, days ago, certain members of the Clergy made a private decision regarding my retirement from the position of Papa Emeritus. I assumed you were unaware, and I thought it best to keep it that way," he began with a heavy sigh. "Later, Terzo confronted me, questioning when I would muster the courage to confess my feelings for you. He believed that simply having you by my side every day would be enough, rather than openly expressing my emotions. This situation compelled me to make a decision, leading to the idea of asking you on a date. However, as you're well aware, it didn't exactly go as planned."
"Okay, I can understand that, but why didn't you tell me about your retirement?" you pressed.
"I was afraid it would make no difference at all, that you wouldn't care about who comes and goes. After all, it's just work, sì?" Secondo responded. "And if you did care, I was afraid of what that could possibly mean."
"No, it's not just work, Secondo. It's you!" you exclaimed, your voice trembling. "Of course, it makes a difference. You're not just a colleague; you're my friend, the person I cherish the most in this Ministry. And now, you are... someone I... I'm seeing as more than just a friend."
Secondo stepped closer, his eyes searching yours with a soft intensity. "Pasticcina," he began gently, "I should have been more transparent with you. I didn't want to burden you with the weight of it, but I see now that I made a mistake."
You met his gaze, emotions flickering in your eyes. "It's not just about work for me, Secondo. You're not just a passing presence."
He reached out, cupping your cheek tenderly. "You mean a lot to me too," he confessed, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "And it terrifies me to think that my decisions could jeopardize what we share."
"We share so much, and this is a significant part of your life," you leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand offering solace. "I just wish you had trusted me enough to share this with me sooner."
"I know, pasticcina. I should have," he admitted, his gaze filled with regret. "I see now that it was a mistake. I was foolish to think it wouldn't matter to you."
"It matters, Secondo. You matter," with a fragile smile, you whispered, "I don't want to lose you, Secondo. Not as a friend, not as... something more."
He sighed, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. "You won't lose me. I may be retiring from this position, but I'm not going anywhere, especially not from your life."
You nodded, wrapping your arms around him, gripping his shirt firmly. "I care about you, Secondo. More than I've allowed myself to admit. You mean more to me than I let myself acknowledge."
Secondo pulled back slightly, holding you at arm's length. "You are important to me, more than you realize."
"When did you find out about Terzo assuming the role of Papa Emeritus?" you inquired, curiosity lacing your voice.
"I always knew," Secondo confessed, his hands sliding to yours, gently holding them. "It's like we all have an expiration date," he added, a wistful smile gracing his lips. Your chuckle echoed in the air, and he responded with a tender smile. "There you go... That's how I like to see you, con quel bel sorriso sul tuo viso."
You sighed heavily, pulling him back to you and guiding his hands to your back. Obediently, Secondo wrapped his arms around you, and you nuzzled your face onto his chest. Closing your eyes, you surrendered yourself to the scent of his cologne, letting it envelop your senses.
"Mi dispiace," he uttered. "I promise I won't hide anything from you again."
"I knew that you'd retire from your role as Papa Emeritus at some point, Secondo. After all, I'm part of the Clergy," you whispered, your face pressed against his chest. "I just didn't expect it to be this soon, or that it would hurt me so much to see you go."
"Mi dispiace..." he whispered in a very low tone, almost inaudible.
"It's fine," you turned your face to him. "I understand you didn't do it to hurt me or anything like that. I know you well enough to understand why you made those decisions. But I also want you to know that you don't have to hide anything from me. You never had to," you said with a sweet smile on your face as you gently pulled away from the embrace. "But we have a date, right? Well, we've already had a couple of them, but today is an official one. So let's focus on us tonight, and tomorrow morning we can go back to being Papa Emeritus and Deacon."
"You're right, pasticcina," he acknowledged with a nod. "Tonight, let's concentrate solely on us and nothing else." Taking one of your hands, he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss onto the back of it. "Are you going to get dressed now?"
"Hm?" you looked down, noticing you were still wrapped in a towel. "Oh! Yes!" you chuckled, heading towards the bed.
Secondo tracked your movements, approaching you. "Are you planning to wear those?"
"Yes," you affirmed, nodding as you gathered the clothes from the bed. "But, why? Why do you ask?" A touch of nervousness tinged your inquiry. "Is there an issue?"
"No!" he exclaimed. "You'll look stunning in those, and I can't wait to see it."
"Secondo..." you said, turning to him with a shy smile.
The room fell into a hushed silence, and neither of you uttered a word. As you both stood there, locked in a silent exchange, Secondo moved decisively. Swiftly, he grabbed your wrist, drawing you closer to him. Your body collided against his, and in an unexpected turn, his lips fervently met yours. With widened eyes, you observed the shift from initial intensity to a more tender expression, his hands finding their way to your waist.
Secondo's hands held you firmly, conveying a sense of security as you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss deepened, and you surrendered to the dance of tongues as his traced the contours of your lips. Your response was instinctive, parting your lips to welcome him. His scent enveloped you, the warmth of his body against yours intensified the moment. His lips moved with practiced finesse, and the soft dance of his skilled tongue on yours cast a spell, leaving you under its bewitching allure.
The warmth of his body enveloped you, and the moment intensified as he continued to explore you with his hands. His touch, both firm and gentle, sent shivers down your spine as he traced intricate patterns on your back. Breaths mingled, sighs of surrender punctuated the air. His lips brushed yours, a delicate dance that evolved into passionate bites.
Your arms gracefully left his neck, and your hands descended to his chest, gently caressing it. As your fingers traced patterns, you felt the exposed part of his chest beneath your touch, as if he remembered what you had told him. A silent chuckle escaped you amidst the entwined kiss, one hand now delicately resting on the exposed skin.
Secondo gently withdrew from the kiss, creating a subtle distance while keeping his face intimately close to yours, his lips lingering in a tantalizing proximity. "What are you laughing at?"
"Nothing," you chuckled, "I just can't help but find it amusing how you manage to be both charming and a tease all at once," your fingers trailed lightly along the contours of his chest as you replied. “At least I find your teasing quite delightful, Secondo.”
He grinned, leaning in closer. “Delightful, sì?” His lips grazed yours with a tantalizing touch.
You playfully bit your lower lip. “Very.”
His breath hitched, and he murmured, “Is it fine to keep going?”
With a seductive smirk, you asked, “Is it fine to lose the date plans?”
Secondo’s eyes gleamed with desire. “Plans can be changed,” he confessed, his voice low and provocative. “We’ve had our dates, even if they weren’t official. I believe it’s time to skip to the part where we honor our Dark Lord.”
"I guess it is," a mischievous glint mirrored in your eyes as you agreed.
Secondo executed a swift turn, guiding you toward the bed, causing you to walk backward until the plush mattress greeted your calves. Secondo’s hand skillfully lifted your leg, and his other hand moved to the back of your head. In one fluid motion, he laid you down on the bed. As you looked at him standing before you, a hint of desire lingering in the air, you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip in anticipation. His gaze smoldering with intensity. He looked down at you, a commanding presence that sent shivers down your spine.
"What do we have here?" he purred, his voice low and demanding.
You met his gaze, your eyes filled with desire. "Just a willing Deacon, Secondo," you replied, a playful edge to your tone. Lifting one leg, you placed it on his thigh, delicately caressing it with your foot.
He crawled on the bed, positioning himself on top of you. His lips hovered dangerously close to yours. "Willing, you say?" His hand traced a path along your thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through you.
You bit your lip, a soft moan escaping. "Very willing."
A wicked grin played on Secondo's lips as he asserted, "Bene. Because tonight, you're mine," his eyes locked onto yours with a predatory glint. "Confess your sins to your Papa, what do you desire most in this moment?"
Your heart raced as you met his gaze, a surge of arousal coursing through you. "I desire you, Secondo," you confessed, your voice laced with longing.
He grinned, his fingers tracing a teasing pattern on your skin. "That's what I like to hear, "his hands explored your body with confident precision, leaving no inch untouched. "I want you to say it," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.
A mischievous smile played on your lips as you teased, “Say what, Secondo?”
His eyes darkened with desire. “Say you’re mine.”
A shiver ran down your spine, and you nodded in agreement. "Yours, Secondo."
As you spoke, a devilish grin spread across Secondo's face. With a swift movement, his hand reached your face, closing the remaining gap between you two. In an unspoken agreement, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss.
Inhaling deeply, your hands found their way to the back of his head, pressing his lips more firmly against yours as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Secondo lowered his body, creating an intimate connection as the warmth of his form pressed against yours, enveloping you in a heat embrace.
A blaze seemed to ignite within you as the heat of his body melded with yours, prompting you to arch your back and press yourself closer to him. Your hands traced over his back, fingers dancing along the contours of his muscles, exploring every inch of him in a fervent exploration.
Secondo's tongue delicately probed your lips, seeking entrance. You parted your lips slightly, granting him access to explore the depths of your mouth. The kiss intensified as he navigated every corner with his tongue. His arms ventured down, enveloping you and keeping you pressed against his firm chest. You could feel a growing bulge pressed against your stomach, sending a thrilling sensation coursing through your body.
A wave of pleasure surged through you as his tongue entwined with yours, eliciting a soft moan. The kiss deepened, reflecting the growing intensity of his desire. In response, you moved your hips against him, prompting a low groan to escape from him. He reached for your hips, pulling you firmly against him, now guiding the rhythm as he moved in tandem with your body. Your hands descended, gripping his firm backside, pulling him even closer to you. Slowly and deliberately, you parted your legs, inviting him to settle himself between them.
Complying with your desire, Secondo pressed himself more firmly between your legs, grinding his hardness against you.The increased pressure caused you to arch your back and neck, breaking the kiss as a soft moan escaped your lips. Sensations of arousal and heightened sensitivity coursed through your body.
Secondo trailed his nose and lips along your neck until he reached your lips. He pressed a lingering kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth, pulling it in a soft bite before releasing it. When you turned your eyes to him, you found him grinning devilishly.
"I want you," you murmured, your voice low and husky.
He nodded, a gaze filled with desire in his eyes as his hand reached for the towel that somehow still clung to you. Casting a silent question in his look, you gave a nod in approval. Without hesitation, Secondo swiftly removed the towel, leaving you completely exposed beneath him.
The towel fell to the floor as Secondo positioned himself on his knees between your legs. His eyes traced every curve of your body while his hands followed the same path. Completely focused on your form, Secondo's firm touch left you melting beneath him. His hands journeyed from your chest to your belly before reaching down to caress both legs simultaneously, prompting you to part them even further. His gaze was enchanted by the unfolding view, causing him to bite his lower lip in an effort to stifle a groan.
You settled your legs on his thighs, sitting in front of him on the bed. Your face moved to his neck, planting kisses while your hands worked to unbutton his shirt. His hands guided you to his lap, bringing your bodies intimately together. Sensing his hardness pressed against you, you couldn’t resist the temptation to grind against it. The friction heightened, and you felt the heat intensify between your legs.
"Pasticcina..." he moaned, closing his eyes, his hands gripping your hips firmly.
The intensity of your kisses on his neck increased, each tender caress leaving a trail of lust. His breath hitched with the rising passion, and you could feel the vibrations in his throat as he hummed in response to the sensations you were creating. You brushed your lips along his neck, tracing a delicate path until you reached his ear, where you nibbled on the lobe with a gentle tease. The tension in his body palpable as he groaned in pleasure. Pulling you closer, he pressed his hardness against you, his breath growing labored as he fought to maintain control. Swiftly, as you moved your head back to continue the kisses on the other side of his neck, he took charge, laying you down on the bed and positioning himself on top of you, restraining your hands above your head.
Your eyes lingered on his body, tracing the contours of his muscular form. The sight of his physique, with a hint of a belly, didn't fail to stir desire within you. His chest, firm and adorned with chest hair that connected to the belly, drew your attention until it disappeared beneath his pants. The raw masculinity of his physique fueled the intensity of the moment, and you couldn't help but moan softly. The sight made you try to move your hands to touch him, only to remember he was holding them together. You turned your eyes to stare at him, and Secondo had a playful smile on his lips.
"What's funny?" you asked, a hint of irritation in your tone.
"Your face," he chuckled.
"Excuse me?" you demanded, attempting to free your hands from his grip.
Secondo lowered his face, closing the distance between your lips. "Your face," he whispered, brushing his lips against yours. "It's almost entirely painted in black," he continued whispering. "Because of my neck..." he licked your lips, coaxing you to part them slightly, giving him the space to slide his tongue into your mouth, kissing you passionately.
As Secondo released your hands, he shifted his focus, trailing kisses down from your lips to your neck, his warm lips exploring every inch of your skin. His journey continued down your chest, leaving a trail of desire until he reached your belly. Without hesitation, he ventured lower, between your legs, his strong hands spreading them gently. Secondo's touch explored the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The gentle yet firm caresses heightened the anticipation, and you could sense his warm breath against your skin as he inched closer to your wetness.
His eyes locked with yours, filled with a potent mix of desire and determination. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice raspy with need. "I need to taste you," he declared, his lips beginning to explore your inner thighs, teasing you mercilessly as he inched closer to your core. "I need to see the way you respond to my touch."
"P-please..." your plea escaped your lips in a desperate whisper.
He smiled against your skin, a glint of desire in his eyes. "You're so willing," he remarked, his breath warm against your sensitive flesh.
Your moans filled the air as his tongue traced the contours of your core, your hips instinctively arching from the bed in response to the electrifying sensation. Unfazed, he took his time, savoring every inch of you, his tongue exploring and teasing your sensitive skin. With expert precision, he flicked his tongue over your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Your moans escalated with the relentless stimulation of his tongue around your clit. The desire to urge him not to stop lingered on the tip of your tongue, but the mutual groans exchanged between you and Secondo were testament enough. Overcome with pleasure, you trembled as one of his hands descended slowly to your entrance. A gasp escaped you as you clenched around nothing.
He descended, his mouth trailing towards your core. Using his fingers to part your entrance, he delved in with his tongue, exploring your inner walls with fervor. Your eyes fluttered backward in pleasure as Secondo intensified the pressure, his nose teasing your clit with each movement of his head. Deeper he went, tasting and savoring your essence. Pulling back momentarily to relish the sensation, he returned, this time focusing his mouth on your clit while his fingers met your entrance again.
A soft whine escaping your lips as Secondo continued to tease you. His fingers rubbed your entrance, a torturous trail up to your clit, trapping it gently between his fingers. "Just put it in, please, Secondo," you begged.
As he continued to suck and lick on your clit, Secondo slipped a finger inside you, curling it upwards to find your sweet spot. A gasp escaped your lips as he hit it, and he hummed contentedly. Relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure, he sucked on your clit harder, causing your body to shake. Not satisfied with just one finger, he added another, thrusting them faster and harder. The intense sensations overwhelmed you as his tongue circled your clit and his fingers moved vigorously inside you, making you so wet that he could easily slide them in and out.
"You're..." you breathed, contorting your body. "You're... going to-ah!"
Secondo slid his fingers out from inside you and gave a final slow, torturous long lick on your wetness, his nose rubbing against your clit. "I'm going...?" he inquired as he supported his chin on your pubic mound.
You looked at his painted face, a mixture of grey and black and white due to your wetness. One of your hands went to his face, stroking his lips with your thumb as you attempted to clean it. "You're going..." your voice turned into a whimper as Secondo parted his lips, licking your thumb. "Secondo... You're going to make me cum..."
He grinned and shifted his weight, hovering over you. "I want to make you cum," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. "I'm going to make you cum so hard that coherent thoughts escape you. Do you want that, pasticcina?" he questioned, his voice low and husky, seeking confirmation.
You could only nod in response, the intensity of the moment leaving you speechless. His fingers moved down your body, eliciting shivers, and a gasp escaped your lips as they found your clit, swirling in slow, deliberate circles. Your moans filled the room, hips instinctively responding to his touch. You reached down and grabbed his hand pressing it harder against your core.
With a teasing grin, he pulled his hand away and rose from the bed, making you whimper im frustration. His eyes locked onto yours as he began to undress, his movements slow and deliberate.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, smirking slightly.
"I'm thinking about how much I want you."
A confident grin playing on his lips. "You won't have to wait much longer," he teased, letting his shirt drop to the floor.
Secondo unbuttoned his pants, maintaining the intense gaze between you. With a seductive smile, he let them slide down, revealing more of him. He stepped out of the pants, leaving him standing there completely exposed. You gasped at the sight, His member sprang free, hard and throbbing with desire. He stand there for a moment letting you take in sight of him. Your gaze shifted to his eyes, and sitting on the bed, you licked your lips. Extending your hand, you ran it up his thigh, sensing the muscles respond to your touch. As your fingers traced upward, they encircled his member. Initiating a gentle stroke.
"Mmm... That feels good," he moaned at the contact, his head falling back.
Your hand continuing to stroke him. You felt him twitch in your hand, and you watched as a drop of precum formed at the tip. You leaned down and licked it off, savoring the salty taste. “I agree,” you murmured, biting your lower lip as your gaze locked onto him.
He emitted a deep groan, his hips involuntarily rising towards your touch. With a smile, you leaned down, enveloping him with your mouth. His loud moan filled the room as you sucked on him, your tongue dancing around the tip of his member. His hands reached out, holding your head as he gently guided your movements, urging you on with needy moans. Each swirl of your tongue and every suction made him growl.
"Enough," he gasped, his voice strained with longing and restraint. "I need to be inside you."
With a fluid motion, you straightened your body, your hands gliding from his thighs to his chest, relishing the sensation of his hair brushing against your palms. As your hands reached his shoulders, you enveloped his neck with your arms, feeling the strength of his grip on your hips as he drew you nearer. The heat between you intensified, radiating from his body as his hardness pressed against your stomach.
"I think I can arrange that for you," you whispered.
Secondo’s hands trailed down your sides as he guided you to recline on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a hunger that matched your own. With a graceful movement, he positioned himself above you, his body covering yours.
"I want to see your face as I enter you," he whispered, his voice low with desire. "I want to make you moan and writhe beneath me, to lose yourself in the pleasure I can give you," he added. "I want to hear your cries as I look you in the eyes," Secondo continued, his voice low and seductive.
You nodded, rendered speechless by the intensity of the moment as you awaited for him. Feeling the tip of him parting your folds, you quivered with anticipation. With a controlled movement, Secondo pressed the tip of his member against your entrance, his gaze ablaze with primal desire as he gradually eased himself into you. In one seamless motion, he filled you completely, stretching you.
"Oh, Satan..." you gasped, your voice a breathless whisper. "...So good," your hands instinctively found their way to his back, your fingertips digging into his skin.
As he started to move within you, a shudder of ecstasy rippled through your body, causing you to arch your back in response. His movements were deliberate. With a hypnotic rhythm, his hips moved in synchrony, exploring every inch of your being with a fervent determination. His hands trailed down your sides, leaving a tingling trail of goosebumps in their wake, heightening the sensations pulsating through your body.
Leaning down, he captured your lips in a fervent kiss, his mouth demanding and passionate as he claimed you with the same intensity that he was claiming your body. You surrendered to the fervor of his lips on yours and of your bodies pressed together. Each brush of his mouth against yours ignited a wildfire of lust, consuming you. As the intensity of the kiss peaked, Secondo pulled away, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.
"You’re so beautiful," Secondo murmured, his voice husky with desire as he gazed into your eyes, his hands tenderly caressing your face. "I want to be the one to make you scream my name," he whispered. "I want to be the one who makes you forget everything else in this world."
"Make me scream for your name," you whispered, your voice a sultry invitation. "Take me. Claim me as yours."
With a deep, primal growl, Secondo's movements became slow and deliberate. His lips captured yours in a searing kiss, igniting a fire that consumed you both. As his tongue entwined with yours, the intensity of the kiss deepened. His hands roamed your body, tracing every curve with a reverence that sent shivers of pleasure cascading through you. Unable to contain the ecstasy building within you, you moaned into his mouth as he continued to explore every inch of your body with his hands and lips.
Breaking the kiss, Secondo’s heated gaze lingered on your lips before trailing down your body. With a low, lustful growl, he whispered, "You're intoxicating, irresistible, just like the flames of Satan himself."
Secondo shifted his weight, supporting himself on his hands planted firmly on the bed. His eyes remained locked with yours. Feeling his gaze upon you, your hands instinctively found their way to his arms, gripping them as you spread your legs wider, offering yourself to him completely. As you tightened around his member, a low, guttural moan escaped his lips. With a fluid motion, he lowered his body onto yours, his weight pressing against you.
With a ragged breath, Secondo whispered hoarsely. "Cazzo, don't do that. Don't make yourself tighter than you already are..." His forehead pressed against yours, his voice filled with desire and restraint. "Merda, you take my cock so well."
You gasped at his words. "Ah-! And you fill me so good," you moaned, your voice thick with longing as you met his gaze with fervor. "Fuck me, Secondo, faster."
Secondo's lips captured yours in a hungry kiss, his movements becoming more urgent as he lost himself in the heat of the moment. "I want to devour you," he murmured between kisses, his voice husky with need. "To lose myself in you."
"You feel so good inside me... I need to feel every inch of you," you said breathlessly, your voice a mere whisper against his ear.
"Then take all of me," he growled, moving his hands to your hips.
As he started to thrust his hips with growing intensity, the sensation of his fullness overwhelmed you. Each movement inside you was palpable, igniting a pleasure that bordered on unbearable. The rhythmic motion of his thrusts filled the room with the sound of your bodies moving together, mingling with the heady scent of arousal that hung in the air. With each breath, your lungs filled heavier, matching the increasing pace of his thrusts, driven by the rhythm of your bodies.
"Oh, fuck," you moaned, your voice hoarse with desire. "Yes, yes, just like that, Secondo! Don't stop!"
He intensified his movements, his hips thrusting faster and harder with each passionate stroke. The echo of flesh meeting flesh reverberated throughout the room, a testament to the intensity of his desire as he pounded into you relentlessly. With each thrust, the pleasure within you surged, every inch of him filling you with a sensation that drove you crazy.
Moans escaped your lips with every rhythmic thrust, your body responding eagerly to his fervent thrusts. You felt the heat of his body pressed against yours, his weight bearing down on you as he held you close with an unyielding grip on your hips. The sound of his ragged breath mingled with yours, the rhythm of his heartbeat synchronizing with your own in a primal dance of passion and lust.
You gasped out his name, your voice a breathless plea for more. "Yes, Secondo," you moaned, "Don't stop... I need you."
Secondo's response was a growl of approval, his movements becoming more urgent as he surrendered himself completely. "I won't, I'm here, I'm yours," he whispered huskily. "Completely and utterly yours."
The intensity of the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you, each sensation magnified by the heat and weight of his body atop yours. Despite the almost unbearable ecstasy coursing through you, the feeling of him inside you was intoxicating, leaving you yearning for more.
With a fluid motion, you wrapped your arms around Secondo's neck and your legs around his hips, shifting the positions effortlessly. Rolling your body with grace, you laid him down on the bed before positioning yourself on top of him. As you placed your hands on his chest, lifting your body to gaze down at him, Secondo's eyes widened in awe, his gaze fixed on you.
"What?" you chuckled softly as you ran your hands along his torso, caressing the contours of his chest with gentle strokes.
His breath caught in his throat as your touch sent shivers of pleasure racing through him. "You're... breathtaking," Secondo murmured, his voice husky with awe. "I can't believe you're real."
You leaned down, your lips hovering just above his, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. "Oh, I'm very real," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. "And I'm all yours."
With a playful grin, you withdrew your face just out of Secondo's reach, teasing him as he attempted to close the gap between you. Lowering your hand, you seized his hardness, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. Secondo's hands found their way to your waist, guiding you as you slowly positioned yourself above him.
You lowered yourself onto him, feeling the tip of his member parting your folds as it slid deep into you. A moan escaped your lips as he filled you completely, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. Secondo's hands tightened around your backside, gripping it firmly as he pulled you down onto him, meeting your movements with urgent thrusts of his own.
"Ah!" you moaned. "Fuck, Secondo! Oh fuck! Just like that, yes yes, don't stop," you cried out, your words a passionate plea for more.
You felt the firm grip of his hands on your ass, holding and pulling you down onto him with each powerful thrust. The intensity of his hardness inside you grew with every stroke, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. As he filled you completely, his pelvis brushed against your clit, sending bolts of pleasure coursing through your body.
With a desperate need for more, you rolled your hips on top of him, seeking out additional friction and stimulation. The mix of sensations was overwhelming, each movement igniting a symphony of pleasure that was impossible to resist. In that moment, you surrendered yourself completely to the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving together, lost in a whirlwind of passion and desire.
"I'm going to cum," you whimpered, your hips moving faster in search of release. "I'm going to cum, Secondo, please make me cum," you pleaded, you could feel his cock throbbing inside you. "Oh fuck, I'm going to cum."
"Cum for me," Secondo pleaded, his voice filled with longing as he urged you to let go and release yourself. "I want to feel you cumming around me."
You cried out, the waves of ecstasy crashing over you as the pleasure reached its peak. In that moment, you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure, allowing it to consume you in a blissful haze of sensation and desire.
"I'm cumming," you moaned, your voice raw with desire as the pleasure crashed over you.
Your body tensed and convulsed around him, a groan of pleasure escaping his lips as he felt your walls clench tightly around him. With a final, deep thrust, he slammed his hips hard against you, anchoring you in place. His member twitched inside you, pulsating with the force of his release, and you moaned in ecstasy as you felt him empty himself deep within you.
The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending ablaze with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. It took all your strength to hold on to him as the aftershocks rippled through your body, leaving you trembling in their wake. Your body collapsed on top of his, both of you breathing heavily and fast.
With tenderness in his touch, Secondo's hand left your backside and trailed gently along the curve of your back until it reached your head. He gently guided your face towards his, his tired smile reflecting the exhaustion and satisfaction. As his lips met yours in a lingering kiss, a sense of contentment washed over you both. With a deep sigh, Secondo laid his back against the pillows.
With a hesitant start, you broke the silence. "So... What was the original plan for tonight?"
His gaze softened as he replied, "I was going to take you out for dinner." He traced patterns on your back as he continued, "Give you the flowers, we would have a nice talk, eat some delicious food, enjoy a drink," his voice trailed off wistfully, "and if you wanted to, we could end up with a kiss..."
"A kiss?" you echoed, his brows furrowing slightly. "Was that part of the plan too?"
He met your gaze, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "Only if you wanted it too."
You chuckled, biting your lower lip. "Do you think we could still salvage the first part of our date?"
"I'd love to," he replied, a glimmer of hope in his voice. "However, I don't think it's possible because I had reservations for us, and I think we may have lost the hour."
"You think?" You playfully arched a brow. "That's fine," you reassured him with a smile. "At least we had dessert."
He chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Am I dessert now?"
You grinned mischievously. "The most delightful one."
With a playful twinkle in his eyes, he leaned closer. "Come here then, let me give you another taste of it."
Secondo shifted his body on top of yours, his touch gentle as he cupped your cheek with his hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns against your skin. With a softness that belied the intensity of the moment, his lips found yours in a tender kiss.
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Grammar
Quegli sciocchi vecchi uomini - Those silly old men
Pasticcina - Little pastry
Impressionante - Impressive
Sì - Yes
Grazie - Thank you
Genuino, attento e premuroso. Posso farlo - Genuine, attentive, and considerate. I can do that
Mi dispiace - I'm sorry
Nessun problema - No problem
Cretino - Idiot
Bene - Good
Molto bene - Very good
Cosa ti porta qui? - What brings you here?
Solo alcune questioni da discutere e... - Just some matters to discuss, and...
Fratello - Brother
Niente di importante - Nothing important
Le tue labbra - Your lips
Con quel bel sorriso sul tuo viso - With that pretty smile on your face
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mirisss · 5 months
Text
Chapter 9
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Stray Kids OT8 x hybrid! afab! reader
Warnings: anxiety, mentionings of a breeding facility, verbal and physical child abuse, neglect, spiked collars, blood, injuries, scars, suicidal thoughts, being apathetic, panic attacks, low self-esteem, I think that's everything,
This chapter involves flashbacks into (Y/n)’s past, so it’s a lot of angst but there are also fluffy moments in the chapter. 
Wordcount ≈ 3.2k
Thank you guys for your patience! I hope you like this chapter! 
Please reblog! 
Taglist: @ayoo-bangtan, @lose-lose07, @kingcarrot-thecarrotking, @starjane312, @reighlee-greaves, @hi-39024, @queenmea604, @septicrebel, @justayoungandwisefangirl, @imasimplol, @k-p0p-4ever, @detectivedoodle, @hehe-24-hehe, @jinnie-ret, let me know if you wanna be added!
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 10,
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“He’s here, come on, (Y/n), we can go home and watch a movie and maybe draw some more,” “That -” YAWN “- sounds nice” “Haha, tired I see,” And so we got in the car, I barely sat down before my eyes were closing. The last thing I remember is hearing a low humming from Hyunjin as I rested my head against his shoulder before I fell into a deep sleep. 
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Hyunjin’s POV
As soon as we sat down in the car, (Y/n) fell asleep with her head resting against my shoulder. I managed to move around to buckle her seatbelt without waking her. I leaned my head against hers as I lowly hummed an unfamiliar tune. Every now and then, (Y/n)’s body would twitch a little, not enough to wake her but enough to keep her from being comfortable. I recognized the twitching, Jisung does it sometimes too. I have done it a couple of times. 
Anxiety. 
Her anxiety is making her twitch, shiver, flinch even. That explains why she’s tired all the time, the anxiety twitches are keeping her from resting properly. I wish we knew more about what she has been through so that we can help her. 
Her ears twitch every once in a while too, though after doing some research on bunny hybrids, that was a normal trait for them. Her breathing was slightly too quick to be relaxed, but the way she nestled into my shoulder made my heart race. She was so cute. I loved her just as I loved the other members. She might not have been with us for that long, but it didn’t matter. Now that she’s in our lives, everything feels complete. 
I looked up and out of the car window, seeing that we were only about two minutes away from our apartment. “(Y/n), sweetie, bunny, wake up, we’re home,” 
(Y/n)’s POV
“(Y/n), sweetie, bunny, wake up, we’re home,” Home. That is such a nice word. I slowly came back to consciousness as I heard Hyunjin’s sweet voice calling my name. As I opened my eyes, I noticed that I was resting against Jinnie’s shoulder. As I understood what I was doing, old habits took over me and I jerked myself away from him. “Sorry,” “It’s alright, bunny. I don’t mind. It was cozy. Now, come on, let’s go home,” “Home,” Before I could stop myself I repeated the word home, Hyunjin looked down at me, his eyes looked glassy, almost as if they were filled with tears. “Yes, home.” 
The car came to a stop and we got out of the car. Hyunjin stretched out his hand and smiled at me, his eyes darting almost nervously between his hand and my eyes. I carefully took his hand, afraid that this was all a dream and if I moved too quickly, it would disappear. We went into the building, the elevator was empty for the first time since I came here. Elevators usually spike my anxiety. Reminding me of my past. 
Flashback
When I was nine years old I was still with my first owner. The breeders who had my parents. They weren’t exactly mean, but neither were they nice. They only cared about the hybrids they had of the highest quality. I was not one of those. They fed me enough to keep me healthy, but they gave me no love. They never spoke with me, they never pet me, they barely even looked at me. 
I hadn’t seen my parents or siblings since I was three. I felt isolated and lonely. The only friend I had was a desert fox who lived in the cage beside mine. He was also an outcast like me. The breeders said his personality wasn’t good, it didn’t fit his species. I didn’t understand what they meant, he was the nicest person I knew, before I got to know SKZ that is. 
One day, one of the breeders came up to me with a scary man. The unfamiliar man stared at me with a weird, creepy look in his eyes. I backed away as far as I could in my cage. My whole body shivering, my instincts screamed at me to run but I was stuck. I couldn’t escape. “I believe this one fits everything you wanted. Quite, small, obedient, ugly.” The breeder and the man laughed loudly, the creepy man agreed, saying he’ll take me. I began crying. Begging the breeder to let me stay. The fox boy in the cage beside me raised his voice trying to stop them from taking me. 
“No! Don’t take her, take me. Please, I’ll do anything, just don’t take her. Please, please, let her stay. NOO!” “Please, I want to stay. Please, I don’t want to go, please, help,” “(Y/n)!” That was the last time I saw him. He screamed my name as they dragged me out of the room filled with cages of neglected hybrids. 
The creepy man dragged me out of the breeding facility with a spiked collar. The spikes dug into my neck, causing permanent damage to my skin. Silent tears ran down my cheeks as no sound would leave my throat. It was my first car ride, and I didn’t want to ever get in another car, at least not with this man. I was nine years old, and he hit me, laughed at me, called me names, and told me how he would cut me and torture me for his own pleasure. 
When we arrived at wherever he was taking me, he once again dragged me along with the spiked collar. There was a tall building in front of us, and we were walking straight toward it. I tried calling for help as I saw many people around us, some of them looked but after seeing the man who was dragging me they all looked away, others didn’t look at all. 
When we came inside the building, we went into a strange small room, a loud *ding* could be heard as the doors opened. The tiny room was packed with people. I didn’t want to go, but the man pulled me inside, the spikes had now penetrated my skin completely, and drops of blood ran down my neck. “Nice toy you got there boss,” A few people said the same thing, as they all stared at me. Their voices harsh on my sensitive ears as they all laughed loudly. 
“Yes, we all will be able to enjoy this one. I made sure to buy a young one, so it will last long,” They spoke about me as if I were an object and not a living being. “Mm, so many fun things to do with such an ugly toy. I know it’s young but I hope it becomes prettier in the future,” My heart hurt from hearing what they said. It was true. I wasn’t pretty, that’s why the breeders didn’t keep me. It was why I didn’t deserve love. 
During the five years, that I lived with that man and his friends, the elevator was a common place for verbal and later on, physical abuse. Whenever someone saw me walking around the building, they would drag me into the elevator, hitting me, kicking me, spitting on me, pulling my ears, my hair, or my tail. They would curse at me, scream at me, and tell me why I didn’t deserve to live. After five years, they kicked me out after I became numb to their advances. 
I stopped speaking. I stopped crying, I stopped eating, I didn’t react to anything anymore, no matter what they did, I never reacted. I felt nothing but emptiness. I wanted nothing more than to die. If this was all my life was worth, I didn’t want to continue. When I stopped reacting, I stopped being fun for them so they kicked me out. Hoping I would die on the streets, all alone. Alone. That was all I knew how to be. 
Elevators always remind me of the scars around my neck, the scars that littered my body from the abuse it suffered all those years, and most importantly, elevators remind me of how ugly and worthless I am in the eyes of many. 
End of flashback
As I was pulled into a flashback, my breathing picked up, I couldn’t breathe, my eyes couldn’t seem to focus on anything, my knees felt weak, I found my own eyes in the mirror, it felt as if I looked into the eyes of my terrified nine-year-old self. 
“(Y/n)! (Y/n), bunny, hold on, it’s okay, just breathe, hey, I’m here,” Hyunjin’s voice seemed far away as if he was in another room. I felt his gentle touch on my arms, I knew it was him, I knew I was safe, but my body didn’t understand. The doors to the elevator flew open with a *ding*, I used my full strength and pushed myself out of the elevator, landing on the floor outside. My arm hurt from landing on it awkwardly, but all I focused on was getting as far away from the elevator as possible.  
“(Y/n), please breathe, please,” My eyes slowly stopped darting around, they focused on Hyunjin’s eyes which were filled with tears as he looked down at me. Worry was written all over his handsome face. I didn’t want him to cry, especially not because of me. 
Third Person POV
(Y/n) looked up at Hyunjin as he leaned over her. The hybrid was lying on the floor, shaking, struggling to breathe, teardrops running down her cheeks. The dancer leaned over the scared hybrid, trying to calm her down, his own eyes and cheeks stained with tears, his heart hurt from seeing (Y/n) like this. 
One of (Y/n)’s arms reached up and gently caressed Hyunjin’s cheek. Her hand was cold against his warm cheek. She still trembled as she tried to catch her breath. Before she knew what she was doing, she leaned her head up, her hand gently guiding Hyunjin’s head down. Their lips barely met, the kiss so gentle it almost didn’t happen, but it did. Hyunjin’s heart raced a thousand times quicker as he realized what they were doing. He was kissing (Y/n). (Y/n) was kissing him. 
Hyunjin broke away from the kiss, a surprised look on his face as he looked down at the bunny. (Y/n) too looked surprised. She hadn’t realized what she had done, it seemed to be pure instinct. “I’m sorry,” (Y/n) whispered as she looked away, her hand falling from his cheek. “It’s okay. I liked it. Um, how about we get off the floor and go inside the apartment, to talk about what happened,” (Y/n) nodded in response, too embarrassed to speak. 
They went inside the apartment, first going into separate rooms to change clothes. (Y/n) got dressed in the fuzzy pajamas that Jeongin reminded her they had bought, it was warm and cozy. It smelled of Jeongin and Felix. (Y/n) inhaled their scents, it calmed her down. She still felt embarrassed over kissing Hyunjin, she had never done something like that before. Her first kiss. Her first kiss. 
Hyunjin was changing into some comfortable clothes too. His mind completely focused on what happened only minutes prior. (Y/n)’s soft lips against his own. Her cute eyes opened wide as she realized what she had done. Her small hand against his cheek. The way she pulled him in. It was intoxicating. He wanted more, but he had to hold himself back. (Y/n) probably didn’t mean to kiss him, she wasn’t ready, he thought. Especially after what happened in the elevator. 
Hyunjin walked into the living room and found (Y/n) sitting on the couch. One of her legs bounced anxiously on the floor. “Hey, do you want some water or tea, or maybe some hot chocolate?” “Water please,” “Alright, I’ll be right back with it,” (Y/n) was nervous, and anxious, thinking that she had truly ruined this now. She kissed Hyunjin without his permission, he was probably going to call the others and tell them that she couldn’t stay. That was what (Y/n) thought. 
“Here you go, bunny,” (Y/n) carefully took the cold water bottle from his hand, opened it, and took a sip. The cold water calmed her burning throat from the panic attack she had just a few minutes ago. “Would you be okay with telling me what happened in the elevator?” “It sparked some old memories,” “Could you tell me more about these memories? You don’t have to but I want to be able to help you, we all do, if you don’t feel ready to talk about it now, that’s okay, but please don’t be afraid to open up about what you’ve been through,” 
He spoke with so much sincerity in his voice and so much love in his gaze as he looked into the hybrid’s eyes. (Y/n) took a deep breath before she told him of the flashback she had. New tears clouded her eyes, Hyunjin embraced her in a calming hug as she cried and told him of all the horrible things the man had put her through. 
“Oh bunny, I’m so sorry, no one should ever have to go through such things,” Hyunjin held (Y/n) tighter as he did his best to calm her down. They stayed like that for a good 20 minutes until the door opened. Minho, Felix, and Jeongin stepped inside. Once they came into the living room they found Hyunjin and (Y/n) curled up on the couch together. The hybrid was still slightly shaking from crying and going through all of those memories twice. 
“What happened?” Felix said as soon as he realized that (Y/n) had been crying. “It’s a long story and I don’t think (Y/n) has it in her to tell it again or be present for it to be told,” Hyunjin answered, Minho noticed that the tall boy’s eyes were glossy, he too had been crying. “Alright, we’ll talk later. Now, do you want to watch a movie, eat something, sleep, or something else?” (Y/n) sniffled a little before she leaned away from Hyunjin’s warm embrace. “I’d like to take a bath if that is fine,” “Of course, come on, I’ll set it up for you,” Jeongin said as he gave her the wide smile she loved. 
Jeongin tried to cheer (Y/n) up by joking around and smiling. His presence did make her feel a bit better. Once again, he reminded her of that fox from the breeding facility. Warm, safe, familiar. His eyes were kind, with so much love and adoration in them. His touch was warm and gentle. Jeongin was happiness to her. “Do you want some bath salts in the bath?” “What’s that?” “Oh, they’re like tiny crystals that make the bath smell nice,” “Do you like those?” Jeongin smiled even wider at the question. “Yeah, they’re nice, we have a couple of different scents, this one’s my favorite!” He held out a little bottle with blue crystals, opened the lid, and let (Y/n) take in the scent. The hybrid inhaled the scent, it instantly reminded her of Jeongin. 
“Do you like it?” “Yeah, it, um, it smells like you,” “I’ll put some in the bath then,” Jeongin poured a few of the crystals into the warm water filling the tub. “There we go! Your towel is here, the same spot as always, and you have your clothes here, and I think that’s all,”  Jeongin was about to walk over to the door and leave (Y/n) in the bathroom. “Wait,” (Y/n) took a hold of his hand. 
“Hmm, what’s wrong?” “Can you just stay with me for a little while longer, I don’t want to be alone just yet,” “Alright, I’ll stay with you as long as you want me to,” They sat down on the floor, (Y/n) still held onto his hand. Jeongin kept an eye on the water in the tub, making sure it didn’t fill too much. “Can you hug me?” “Of course,” Jeongin turned off the water before he opened his arms and (Y/n) scooted closer into his embrace. 
“(Y/n), remember what we talked about earlier?” “About all of us facing challenges in the past?” “Yeah, you don’t ever have to be ashamed of what you’ve been through, none of it was your fault. We won’t ever hurt you, nor will we let anyone hurt you,” (Y/n) held onto Jeongin just a little tighter. “Can I tell you something about what happened today?” “Of course, if you want to tell me, then I’ll gladly listen,” “I’m embarrassed and worried about it,” “It’s okay, whatever it is, it will be fine,” “I kissed Hyunjin,” Jeongin looked down at (Y/n), not believing his ears. 
“What?” His voice was shocked, yet his eyes still held nothing but love and adoration. Making (Y/n) feel a little less worried. “I kissed Hyunjin. I didn’t even notice, I didn’t know what I was doing, it just happened,” “Okay, do you regret it?” “Um, I don’t know. I liked it, I think. I’ve never done anything like it before. I’m just scared that he’s angry with me,” “I promise you, that he is not angry. I’m certain he’s over the moon with joy. We all love you, and kissing is a sign of love, so none of us would be angry with you for kissing us, we just want you to do it when you want to, we don’t want to pressure you into anything,” 
(Y/n) listened intently as Jeongin spoke, his voice brought the bunny comfort. Her eyes explored his face. From his warm eyes to his nose, to his sharp jawline, and stopping at his lips. Something within her, yearning to feel his lips against hers. Even though the kiss with Hyunjin had barely happened, she yearned for more. She yearned to feel love in its purest form. 
“Can I… Can you, kiss me?” Jeongin smiled widely, his eyes seemed to sparkle as he leaned a little closer. “Are you sure?” (Y/n)’s eyes once again darted between his eyes and his lips. She felt safe. She felt loved. “Yes, I’m sure,” Jeongin leaned even closer, his heart racing. He was nervous and excited. The bunny felt the same as she leaned a little closer. Their lips were only mere millimeters apart. (Y/n) closed her eyes, fully trusting Jeongin, just as she would with any of the eight boys she now called her home. Jeonging couldn’t help but smile as he too closed his eyes. 
~ To be continued ~
Thank you for reading! Please reblog!
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I've noticed something very interesting about the structure of The Locked Tomb series recently, in that it is a series that is immeasurably more than the sum of its parts. Not that that's an uncommon thing for serialized media, it's literally the point of the format to tell a deeper story as a whole than is told in any one installment, but I think tlt is a particularly extreme example.
Like, gtn is the only book in the series that works at all as a standalone story. In most series, if you skip a book, you'll be confused about specifics and backstories and what have you, but you'll probably be able to follow along and get the gist of the theming, even if you miss some details and subtleties.
With this series, though, the subsequent books (especially HtN but also NtN) are essentially incomprehensible if you've skipped the previous books. They don't follow a predictable trajectory from the previous books that can be back-extrapolated from their stand alone contents. Like, genuinely try to imagine what you would think the previous books must have been about if you just read Nona. Imagine what you'd think the themes were. It's completely out of wack.
This is because each new book in the series isn't just a continuation of the previous books - it is in dialogue with the previous books. Each new book is a commentary on what came before, a reinterpretation that forces you to rethink or even reread the previous books with a different perspective that draws more layers of meaning to the surface. It makes the series feel like a knot that you're slowly unpicking - each new thread that is revealed to you changes how you perceive the weave of the previous threads.
I fucking love this. It makes the series incredibly rereadable, and it rewards spending a lot of time contemplating and theorizing about what you've read, which is excellent because the books are written in such a way that they invite you to ask questions without giving you answers. It make you feel ecstatic when you achieve a new level of understanding of a story you had thought you already understood.
There's a drawback to this, though, in that it makes the first read-through of a new book in the series the worst read-through. Again, HtN is infamous for this, verging on incomprehensible on a first pass but bristling with rich meaning and evocative prose on a second, but it's a trait that applies to all three books released so far. On a first read, lacking the context of the later series, GtN's story feels straightforward, sometimes juvenile, full of relatively simple but evocative characters, and burdened with what seems to be needlessly obtuse and obscure worldbuilding that only exists to slow down the reader's attempts to solve the murder mystery and to act as a backdrop to be cut through by Gideon's harshly modern and irreverent quips. (Sidenote, but as much as that is a thing that a lot of the fandom really enjoys, I know a few people who found that choice extremely jarring and unpleasant. It is a polarizing structural choice, it just doesn't seem like it because people who don't like it don't often stick with the series long enough to get invested in the deeper themes and plot of the series).
NtN too follows this format, although we don't yet have the added context of it's sequel, so a lot of what it has to say remains maddeningly out of reach. It certainly enriches rereads of the previous books, though; a lot of people have gone into great detail about how Nona's perspective on Kiriona reframes our perception of Gideon as a narrator. And John's accounting of the end of the world and the Resurrection adds so many more layers to all the interactions we witness in HtN.
It's just a very unique way to build a story, to start with something fairly simple and self-contained and then spend the next two books layering more and more meaning on those events. For me, it's not the characters (much as I love them) but the structure of the series that keeps me so fucking obsessed with these books.
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aziraphales-library · 4 months
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Thank you so much for the work you do on this blog. For no reason at all I was wondering if you could recommend some fics where crowley is just extremely happy, having a wonderful day, loving his life
Here are some happy Crowley/good day fics...
May I Have This Dance? by AnonymousDandelion (G)
“Angels,” Aziraphale murmured, the words a warm and welcome breath of air not very far distant from Crowley’s cheek, “don’t dance.” “Oh?” Crowley’s answering smile was practically audible in his voice as he leaned forward, already on the verge of accepting the very obvious temptation to tempt. (That particular subtext technique — tacitly inviting Crowley to push, persuade, entice one step further — was one Aziraphale had mastered long, long ago. It no longer served the same purpose it once had, but that didn't mean they couldn't still dabble in their old patterns, if now purely for the entertainment factor.) “Is that the case, my angel?” “It’s certainly what I’ve heard, at any rate.” Reaching up, Aziraphale caught Crowley’s hand in his own, their fingers interlacing in what was now an accustomed movement… and never any less marvelous, each time, for all its growing familiarity. ~ ~ ~ In which Crowley and Aziraphale are very soft, very happy, and very together. That's the fic.
oh, but surely not by Phoenix_of_Athena (G)
Aziraphale can be firm, sometimes. Sometimes, when he really cares about something, he’ll speak up, and he’ll get this tone to his voice that makes Crowley take notice. It’s a little sharp, undeniably bossy, and it’s immovable…Crowley likes it.  Aziraphale usually takes pains to be passive; affable; soft—whatever he thinks it is that an angel ought to be, in order to guide people towards kindness and good and all that mush. But a lot of that’s an act; those are traits that Aziraphale’s put on, and which, over time, have left an impression on his personality. But really, Crowley’s counterpart has a core of steel underneath all of his silk and cotton. Crowley can be downright cheerful, for a demon. Peppy. Excited. Eager. Like a puppy, Aziraphale thinks when he’s not being particularly charitable, or like a child, when he is. It’s endearing, either way. And it’s striking. When Crowley’s not self-conscious, and he’s usually not around Aziraphale, he’ll get this grin. Wide, and wondering, and kind. Not like the wicked quirk of lips he’ll get after a job well-done, though that smile too has its own appeal—no, this one is hopeful, genuine, and charming in a wholesome way. Aziraphale can never help but smile back.
one of a thousand perfect days by 5ftjewishcactus (T)
Aziraphale and Crowley spend a lovely day together, first curled up in bed together, doting on each other and then later go for a picnic and a bit of stargazing. It really is a perfect day.
Ocimum Basilicum by KannaOphelia (T)
This was their life now. A peaceful village where they could hear the sea. Aziraphale was fast cultivating a reputation as 'that terrible man from the second-hand bookshop, he looks so kind and cuddly but just try buying a book from him, how that nice Mr Crowley puts up with the old devil I'll never know'. Happiness. Happiness was their life. Perhaps it was just that happiness was too much for a demon to bear without getting sick. Or perhaps it was something else entirely.
Enrichment Activities by EdosianOrchids901 (T)
Eager for novelty, Crowley takes up art. Picking one medium would be too limiting, though. Aziraphale is confused by the deluge of sculptures, paintings, and drawings, but he tries to be supportive.
Visibility by Aethelflaed (G)
“I just…woke up like this,” Crowley explained, in what was probably supposed to be a casual voice. “Definitely a curse. Probably one of those angels, thwarting and all, you know how they are.” “An angel.” Pinching zir nose, Beelzebub tried not to imagine the foolish way she was probably grinning. “And by pure coinczzidenzze, this angel juszzt happened to make you completely inviszzible on the day of your department budget review?” -- A mysterious curse that Crowley DEFINITELY didn't cast on herself makes her invisible for a day! What sort of trouble can she get into? Or get her angel out of?
- Mod D
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eliyips · 2 months
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your pfp is trans xisuma - do you headcanon xisuma as trans? if yes what are your thoughts on that?
Yes! I am a trans man, and I headcanon Xisuma as a trans man :) Here's a couple thoughts about him being trans:
My Xisuma is an ender dragon hybrid. When I draw him without his helmet, you may notice that he has little horn stubs on the top of his head! This is because he intentionally shaves his horns down. Horns are a sexually dimorphic trait in ender dragons, only growing on those assigned female at birth. So, filing down his horns is gender affirming for Xisuma.
Xisuma has had top surgery, and takes hormones. I think it's fun to imagine one of the sciency-types on the server did his surgery and provides him hormones, but I'm totally undecided on who would have done that. Doc seems like the best bet. I imagine he must have some surgical skill, given his mechanical prosthetics, and he seems like he would be more than happy to help with X's transition.
Zedaph would be a funnier provider though. Xisuma is on that wacky experimental testosterone. Every few months he goes to Zedaph for a refill and has to get the damn stuff tested to make sure Zedaph hasn't changed up the formula again, or just swapped it for whatever Cool New Hormones that Zedaph has developed. Zedaph thinks its very boring that he just wants normal testosterone.
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otaku553 · 2 months
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Hi!! I'm super interested in the outfits you have your kirby ocs in. If it's not too much trouble (and only if you want to) could you go through the different garments they're all wearing when you have time?
I don’t have much time so I’ll do just one character this time but I’ll definitely post more outfit breakdowns for my other Kirby ocs! But yes I am super excited about outfit design and making sure that garments make functional sense so thank you so much for asking!! Feel free to ask again to give me an excuse to draw more of these
Here’s the one character I’ll cover this time! The dark matter hero of yore oc!
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Thoughts are in the read more!
The main idea that I wanted to have for them was that they’re calm, collected, and kind of uptight due to imposed restrictions rather than it being their own character trait. Essentially my idea for this character is that they’re in a rather precarious place in terms of public perception due to the general belief that dark matter is has a negative moral connotation, but remain a “hero” just because the powers that be deemed that they needed to have four. Why? Who knows, perhaps they wanted to make sure that they had a scapegoat. They’re not a very powerful astral when they’re selected but they are made so through the gradual injection of dark matter into them, something which grows stronger from their sadness and hopelessness over their situation and begins to take over their subconscious until it is able to usurp their identity fully.
So the first layer is a full body covering in black, a turtleneck, black toeless knee socks, and a pair of sweatpants. The sweatpants are there to give the impression of looseness and relaxation, but gathered to show the bit of uptightness along with the tight turtleneck.
The second layer, a cool teal-ish gray tunic, is a nod to who they were before the injection of dark matter turned their hair white. Their original color was a greenish teal, a color that is not quite on the opposite side from red (which is associated strongly with dark matter) but still quite far from it. There’s some padding in the shoulders to give them a more solid shape with the other layers, and for comfort when the armor is put on. The side slits help with mobility. This tunic layer is made of very sturdy material that functions essentially as chain mail. It doesn’t give protection to the heart, the essential organ, but there is also a question of whether they want that to be protected or not, and whether it would even kill them or not to be stabbed through the heart.
The third layer is a cool off-white overcoat, and overwhelms the design with white because white is more associated with virtue than black is, and shows, beyond surface level light=good association, a feeling of emptiness. It is both a way that they try to distance themselves from the idea of “dark” matter and a sign of how they are forced to devoid themself of any personality or strong individuality to maintain good graces with the public.
The belt is mostly just a way for me to give more shape to the silhouette by gathering the waist, but the eye shaped brooch was a kind of last minute decision to add a bit extra detail! The leather strap of the belt wraps around the back and towards the front tapers off to a chain of metal beads, which have a hooked clasp at the front concealed by the eye brooch.
Finally, a long scarf/sash is wrapped off the shoulders and tucked in through the belt. There are two overlapping layers at the front, and the back layer is shorter than the front. This is a very constricting configuration that makes it difficult for them to raise their arms very high without displacing it. To keep it nicely on the shoulder, each side is help up with an eye-shaped pin, securing it to the white overcoat layer a bit under the shoulders. The red teardrop jewels hanging from those are just an extra pop of the red accent color. The underside of the scarf is red, but difficult to see if they keep their arms lowered.
In their more battle-ready outfit, they raise the dropped shoulder scarf up to wrap around the shoulders and neck, and fold the inside down to make it a red collar. This is symbolic of how they depend on the power of dark matter injected into them to fight. The collar is secured with the pins. Then, pauldrons are added, with the harness for them being secured with straps across the chest underneath the scarf and under their arms. I forgot to draw it but they also wear shin guards underneath the pants, over their socks.
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waxingrunes · 2 months
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your art is the most realistic art i have seen this fandom spit out i really wish you would make remus shorter and stop making oc’s
This is why I lose enthusiasm for you cunts.
Sick of defending a fucking drawing, a fictional character. Sick of the same agendas in this online world where Remus has to be this fucking wet mop of a man who has one singular personality trope of being obsessed with Sirius Black and wouldn’t say boo to a goose. Have you met real men? You ever interacted with your average Joe, who is a bit shy, bit awkward, bit of a weirdo but he doesn’t have to come with a pre installed stutter and helpless heart eyes and no other arsenal but a goo goo gaga state of mind for his love interest. You lot are unhealthily obsessed. Daily, fucking, bullshit, daily headcanons, daily this, daily that.
My Remus and Sirius are never going to change. What’s insane is the amount of ‘heteronormative’ claims I see attached to this debacle of height and size. I know a man, who is exceptionally tall, built, has had a boyfriend, and topped him the entire way through the relationship. He did not enjoy bottoming, and yet is a bisexual individual, nothing ‘stereotypical’ homosexual about him or his appearance whatsoever. In fact, he’s very much a Remus variant in my eyes; he is softly natured, introverted, and selective socially and STILL A STONY TOP. Real life, real person, not curated from a thread you found on Twitter and have swallowed up whole.
What happened to coming into a fandom space, making something and going, “that’s hot”. When did it become a space to make sure every representation was ticked, to make sure one character isn’t too this or too that. I’m not here to read the same stories or see the same art 100 times over. I fell in love with these two men and have since had a very solid image of them in my head and create art based off of those ideas. I don’t feel pressured to make sure I give my Remus certain soft traits to justify making him look the way I do. I don’t feel the need to advertise Sirius being this massively charismatic guy just to give him a personality because otherwise you might think he doesn’t have one, because of the slightly more feminine light I draw him in (which is misogynistic you dumb fucks). Just because, I draw my Remus tall and a buffed out lank, does not make him an ultra turbo Alpha. Just because I draw my Sirius smaller, does not mean he is a helpless twink. But here’s the secret nobody’s telling you— even if I did draw them like that, even if those were my holy canons and preferences for these boys, that’s okay. I’m here to create things that make me go, “fuck yeah that’s hot”, “hell yeah I want to see Sirius get pulverised by Remus and no I don’t want to see Remus get pulverised by Sirius and no I don’t feel the need to defend that”, “yeah I prefer tough love over easy love”, “absolutely love it when one of them is a dick to the other and there’s heaps of toxic tension, or maybe they’re both like that and they’re both sarcastic pricks that have to work it out”. I’m never going to adhere to the obsession of character moulds you lot have created.
Sick of this space being turned into a political pansy parade. It’s alright if you want to draw this gay couple with any features you want, hyper masculine, hyper feminine, somewhere in the middle, trans, prefer one of them topping, prefer them to be asexual, prefer them to be toxic and have grit (that’s my trope), or just want easy fluff. And it’s also alright if you’re just in fandom because you’re a bit perverted (like me) and wanted to explore that in a couple you found super fucking hot. Don’t let people use the word fetishise, don’t let people use the word heteronormative, don’t let people bamboozle you with big words and reams of bullet points to incite shame, don’t let people box you in, just keep watching the porn, keep consuming the porn, keep avoiding the shit you want to avoid, and enjoy what you want without shame.
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metamatar · 11 months
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The plain fact is that whatever Homer or Aeschylus might have had to say about the Persians or Asia, it simply is not a reflection of a ‘West’ or of ‘Europe’ as a civilizational entity, in a recognizably modern sense, and no modern discourse can be traced back to that origin, because the civilizational map and geographical imagination of Antiquity were fundamentally different from those that came to be fabricated in post-Renaissance Europe.
[...] It is also simply the case that the kind of essentializing procedure which Said associates exclusively with ‘the West’ is by no means a trait of the European alone; any number of Muslims routinely draw epistemological and ontological distinctions between East and West, the Islamicate and Christendom, and when Ayatollah Khomeini did it he hardly did so from an Orientalist position. And of course, it is common practice among many circles in India to posit Hindu spirituality against Western materialism, not to speak of Muslim barbarity. Nor is it possible to read the Mahabharata or the dharmshastras without being struck by the severity with which the dasyus and the shudras and the women are constantly being made into the dangerous, inferiorized Others. This is no mere polemical matter, either. What I am suggesting is that there have historically been all sorts of processes – connected with class and gender, ethnicity and religion, xenophobia and bigotry – which have unfortunately been at work in all human societies, both European and non-European. What gave European forms of these prejudices their special force in history, with devastating consequences for the actual lives of countless millions and expressed ideologically in full-blown Eurocentric racisms, was not some transhistorical process of ontological obsession and falsity – some gathering of unique force in domains of discourse – but, quite specifically, the power of colonial capitalism, which then gave rise to other sorts of powers. Within the realm of discourse over the past two hundred years, though, the relationship between the Brahminical and the Islamic high textualities, the Orientalist knowledges of these textualities, and their modern reproductions in Western as well as non-Western countries have produced such a wilderness of mirrors that we need the most incisive of operations, the most delicate of dialectics, to disaggregate these densities.
Aijaz Ahmed, In Theory: Nations, Literatures, Classes
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