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noisy-v · 5 months

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Astarion and Halsin's traumas were meant to be foils

When characters are foils, there are two components: first, there's a shared background, event, personality trait, etc. But how the characters act from then on are diametrically opposed, allowing us an insight into the various ways people can act or respond to one core "element". In this case, I would argue that Halsin and Astarion are meant to be foils in their responses to sexual slavery.

Both Astarion and Halsin were denied their freedom and agency, raped and abused. Both were very young when this happened; Astarion was in his 30s, which is before elves are considered to reach their majority, while Halsin's age wasn't specified, but he goes out of his way to mention "youth" many times. In other words- both were young enough for this to be a formative memory for them. Both carry deep traumas from their experiences. Both are incredibly physically attractive, and allude to or outright say that their looks played a part in their captivity; Astarion was used to seduce others for Cazador, while Halsin notes that his Drow captors "took an interest in him" and saw him "as a novelty"- most likely for his looks as much as for his race. Both were raped by people of high social status- Cazador a wealthy influential figure in Baldur's Gate, and Halsin's captors high-ranking Drow nobles. That is what they have in common.

But their responses to their traumas are complete opposites.

First, just the nature of how they express their traumas. Astarion is LOUD about it. He expresses it all openly; he is traumatized. And he knows he didn't deserve what happened to him.

Halsin buries it. He pretends it was no big deal. He victim-blames himself, saying it was his fault for being a "foolhardy young Druid" intent on seeing the Underdark.

Astarion despises Cazador; he wants revenge. He will do anything to get revenge on his abuser. This need for closure is the core of Astarion's entire arc, to the point that of all the scenarios I can think of where Astarion leaves the party, most of them involve his journey to kill Cazador.

Halsin has trauma bonds (also known as Stockholm Syndrome.) He speaks kindly of his captors even when describing their abuse. He says he feared for his life, but he "did some things that were less than necessary," making it sound like he was complicit in his own rape. He can't even bring himself to call them captors (except for one option in the new datamined dialogue), nor himself a sex slave; instead, he was something "between a guest, prisoner, and consort."

Astarion is (in most cases) ultimately allowed closure; he kills Cazador. In the bad path, he then joins the cycle of abuse by killing the other vampires; in good scenarios, he only kills Cazador, and then has a cathartic, tearful breakdown after.

Halsin never had (or seemed to want) that closure; he escaped while his captors were fighting another noble house, and his freedom was all he wanted. Whether his captors lived or not, he doesn't care.

Astarion is younger, and his trauma a shorter time ago, yet he has processed what happened more; he is both further ahead and further behind on his healing journey than Halsin.

Halsin is older, and his trauma longer ago, but he hasn't processed what happened to him; bouncing from trauma to trauma and being forced into a leadership role caused him to have to bury it. He is both further behind and further ahead on his healing journey than Astarion.

Astarion makes a point of avoiding intimacy; he only has a few exceptions with the player. (Ascended Astarion becomes much more confident, but that's a bit different.)

Halsin is incredibly sexually open. He enjoys sex of all kinds; he finds it comforting, the only way he can openly express his emotions after having to stay in control as Archdruid all the time.

Astarion dissociates during the Drow brothel orgy. He is miserable and uncomfortable, but doesn't regret it; he needed to take the step to explore his sexuality on his terms. Even if it triggered him, he still wanted the experience, and indeed, finding what one's triggers are is an important step for many survivors.

Halsin enjoys himself during the orgy, and even seems pleased after, but then he lets the cracks show, talking about how he was held as a slave. He enjoyed it during, but after, the thoughts started creeping in, as he was reminded of his captivity.

Astarion will respond to cruel player comments about Cazador with a massive hit in approval, and possibly breaking up with a romanced player, like when they say they have a kidnapping fantasy about him if he's kidnapped by the spawn.

Halsin, in the new dialogue options, doesn't seem to react that much even to cruel comments; when the player threatens to sell him back into slavery, all he has to say is, "you would be unwise to attempt it, trust me. In any case, the house of my captors is long-extinct." (Followed by him having an epiphany that they WERE his captors) He never gets angry at the player despite the absolute evil of this option; as with nearly every other mean thing the player says to him, he simply shrugs it off, clearly sad but brushing it off as always. Being the "bigger person", literally and metaphorically.

Astarion was left with scars all over his back, symbolizing how this is something he'll never break free from entirely.

Halsin was left with no scars, his only prominent one being from an unrelated incident, symbolizing how much work he puts in to hide his traumas.

It's understated, so a lot of players aren't going to think about it much because of this, but I think it's worth bringing up as a note on characterization!

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noisy-v · 6 months

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Nervous waiting

#copia #terzo #secondo #primo #cardinal copia #cardinal terzo #Cardinal secondo #papa emeritus i #papa i #papa nihil #nihil #ghost #the band ghost #ghost art #the babies #this is so cute

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noisy-v · 7 months

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For anyone worried about missing anything in BG3 or replaying the game and wanting to find something they missed there’s a ton of checklists available online and I’m just gonna post the ones I’ve been using for all the acts in case anybody else wants to reference them!

#baldurs gate #baldurs gate iii #read it before playing

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noisy-v · 7 months

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it's your time to shine lil man

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noisy-v · 8 months

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Come Morning

Secondo x Reader

Author Note: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes, please don't hesitate to point them out to me.

Summary: Secondo knew it was never meant to be real between you two. As hard as it was, he knew he had to get away from you before it was too late, before he was in too deep, before he hurt himself too badly. However, the dice had been cast long before he realised what was happening inside him, long before he could even think of making a move... and it takes a metaphorical slap in the face for him to grasp what he truly wants. (≈ 2700 words)

"His eyes upon your face

Tags: angst, implied smut, jealousy, love at first sight if you squint, mutual pining, fluff, feelings, lot of feelings, Secondo being a “miserable, wounded, and bitter old man”, Secondo being all dark and threatening, a bit of self-loathing on Secondo’s part, mostly Secondo’s POV (because I love getting in the head of our lovely Papas), Secondo behaves a little bit like a jerk, but this is a soft Secondo fic though, utilisation of the pronoun “her" just once, and feminine pet names like “cara” TW: Reader is a sex worker, jealousy

His hand upon your hand

His lips caress your skin

It's more than I can stand"

El Tango de Roxanne, Moulin Rouge

Your chest was rapidly rising and falling. Your body was still carrying the remains of bliss. They were flying across your stomach like thousands of little butterflies. The firm embrace of his arm enveloped you, his breath mirroring yours in laboured harmony. His fingertips were gently grazing the soft skin of your back. And for a fleeting moment, the warm blanket of serenity surrounded you.

Your eyes were closed. Suddenly, you heard his phone ringing. You sighed as a dreadful feeling chased away the butterflies that had danced upon your skin. Your mind faded from the vibrant colours and dazzling lights that had adorned it just moments before. You already knew what was about to happen. He removed his arm from you, leaving you with an abyss of yearning and hollowness. He reached for his phone on the nightstand. You swore you heard him mutter out “Fuck” but you did not think too much of it.

“I must leave now, cara…”

There. He said it. The words you dreaded to hear. You turned your head to look at him as you felt your heart sink into your stomach. You barely had time to catch your breath yet, your legs and your back were still a bit sore even though he had been strangely gentle with you this time. Really gentle.

“Okay, Papa…”

Your response barely escaped your lips. This had become a disheartening routine, one that promised no respite. He rose from the bed and began to put his clothes back on, his gaze steadfastly avoiding yours. A painful lump formed in your throat as you watched him prepare to abandon you once more, the ache almost unbearable. You felt so foolish... For a fleeting second, you had allowed yourself to believe that tonight would be different. That night, he had been unusually tender, well as tender as Secondo could be but you could have sworn he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. He had caressed your body with such devotion, he had moved over you with a careful and sensual pace, making you feel like you were in heaven. But maybe you had dreamt of his sweetness?

You are so delusional… you thought to yourself.

You remained naked, sprawled out on the bed, struggling against the urge to crumble, to plead for him to stay a little bit longer. Finally, he turned towards you, but his eyes did not meet yours. Leaning down, he placed a swift, fleeting kiss on your cheek.

“Until next time,” he said in a hushed tone

And with that, he walked towards the bedroom door and vanished. After a long while, you rose from the bed and made your way toward your vanity. Your reflection stared back at you. Your neck was adorned with smudged black paint and the faint imprints of his teeth. Tears welled up in your eyes. It was all you could have from him. Faint marks upon your skin.

Yes. You were delusional. There was never meant to be more between you two.

At first, Secondo thought it would be a one-time encounter. Although he secretly thought of you as the most beautiful creature he had ever seen when he first met you, he didn't expect the encounter to go beyond that one night. He was a regular client of the club, but he would never ask to spend the night with the same person more than once.

But then, he saw you, the newcomer, and was captivated by your beauty. He found you utterly fascinating as you danced under the vibrant lights. When your eyes met, he felt like he was falling, but he initially brushed off this new sensation. He eagerly requested your companionship. The night you shared together was nothing short of blissful. Your bodies intertwined, breaths harmonizing, your lips caressing his neck, delicate fingertips grazing his skin, your sweet moans in his ear… and the little conversation you two had had after that moment of passion.

He thought he would be satiated after that first night… but he quickly found himself plagued by an insatiable longing for you.

He knew it was not normal. Not normal for a man like him, at least.

He was fully aware that this yearning was not conducive to his otherwise harsh and unfeeling heart. Yet, he craved you like a drug addict.

And so, he returned, time and time again, each visit marked by the same fervent request for your presence. He broke all his habits and all the unspoken rules he had set for himself. He was unable to resist the irresistible allure that drew him back to you. He was the moth, you were the flame.

But after each encounter, he would leave swiftly. Either because he had a duty to attend or because he would find himself drowning in his own emotions, drowning in his own feelings. There would be a few rare moments or he would stay a little bit, but these moments would only make him fall deeper and harder. He wanted to stay longer, maybe forever. He wanted it so bad. But he knew it was not a good idea.

Despite knowing he was in too deep, despite trying to chase away his feelings by always leaving before the first murmurs of dawn, Secondo never thought of stopping to ask for you, he never thought of trying to get you off his mind in the arms of someone else.

This is ridiculous, he had thought, you are the Pope of the Satanic Church, for Lucifer’s sake, not a damn monk.

He was angry with himself when he realized that, but he did not take any action to change, despite the sinking fear of this unknown feeling. He did not want to drift away from you.... because you made him happy. He had been with many people in the past, and he had felt enjoyment in their embrace, he had felt pleasure in their arms but never happiness. With you, it was much different.

But the bliss of knowing you and touching you was a deep injury in the end. Because he would miss you when you were not there and it was torture. Because he did not understand what was happening to him and most of all, because, deep inside, Secondo knew it was never meant to be real between you two.

He was a client.

He knew this relationship was meant to remain purely physical. That much he was sure of, so him leaving promptly after your passionate encounters would not be an issue for you, would it?

Secondo also knew for a fact you had to see other people. It was your job, after all. He knew he was not the only one however he tried not to think too much about it.

Secondo knew that when he was not there to claim you for the night, you were with another.

Secondo knew that, despite being a powerful Satanic pope, it was just a client among others.

Secondo knew you must have encountered individuals more youthful, more handsome, less brooding, and less embittered than him. After all, you were a delightful and enchanting presence, a wonder in your own right.

All of this, Secondo knew... So why did his heart drop to the pit of his stomach? Why did he freeze like a deer in headlights? Why did he feel such a profound sense of shock, of betrayal, when he witnessed you dancing for another man? He knew of your interactions with other clients, but witnessing it firsthand felt much more different.

As the shock gradually receded, Secondo's blood began to boil. An awful ringing resonated in his ears.

How dare that man lay hands on you? You were his!

His heart drummed within his chest, each beat a resounding thud against the cage of his ribs, a forceful and unrelenting rhythm. The sight before him was nothing short of agonizing. It felt like a punch in the guts, like a slap across the face. The man lounged in his chair while you were dancing on his lap. The man was caressing your waist and your hips, his lips were grazing your shoulder. It was more than he could stand.

His mind was consumed by nothing but anger, an all-encompassing blaze that propelled him forward. With determined steps, he closed the distance between himself, you, and the man. Rational thought slipped away from his mind as he seized the chair and yanked it backwards, forcefully separating the man from you. You somehow managed to maintain your balance and you swiftly turned around to look at the commotion unfolding behind you. Your eyes widened as you beheld Secondo, his face etched with a scowl of anger, no... of pure and consuming rage. It was as though the blazing fire of hell raged within his mismatched eyes, only accentuated by the skull paint on his harsh visage.

"What the hell, man?!" the interloper spat out, his voice dripping with indignation.

He abruptly stood up and shifted his focus to Secondo, seemingly ready for confrontation. But then, he saw him—the towering, formidable figure with eyes like the devil himself, glaring at him as if prepared to tear him limb from limb.

"Hands off," Secondo growled, casting an icy gaze down at the man, his eyes showing nothing but disdain and disgust

The man, now clearly shaken, retreated several steps.

"I paid for a dance!" he stammered, attempting to defend himself. Though his voice quivered with fear, he continued, "I paid for my wh..."

Before the man could complete his sentence, Secondo seized his collar, hoisting him off the ground, leaving him incapable of saying anything more. He yearned to punish him for daring to speak of you in such a manner, for daring to call you his and for touching you.

“I said... Hands off," he murmured in a menacing, low tone that would have struck fear into anyone's heart. "And don't dare refer to her in that manner, or I'll ensure your head splits wide open. Leave now. If you have any issues, go cry about it to the boss. I'm quite certain he'll know whose side to favour."

With that, he tossed the man inside who did not dare to fight back, he just left, likely seething with anger and frustration but too terrified to confront Secondo further. The witnesses of the scene in the club quickly turned their gaze away when Secondo glared at them. Then he turned his gaze toward you. He was the terror in your eyes and his expression softened considerably.

“Cara…” he whispered, walking closer to you.

Gently, he enveloped your hands with his calloused one, bringing them to his painted lips for a tender kiss. You seemed to relax considerably. A sigh of relief escaped him as he observed that you did not seem angry or frustrated. In those beautiful eyes of yours, he could have sworn he saw a glimmer of relief. He no longer felt sadness or anger or jealousy, just relief and the bliss of finally being with you.

"Papa, I..." you began, but he gently silenced you.

"Hush, cara mia... That's enough for tonight," he whispered soothingly. "You're coming home with me."

With those words, he encircled you with his protective arm and guided you toward the exit of the club. You offered no resistance. Your shift was not finished but he knew your boss would not dare to say anything. As you both reached the waiting car, he opened the door for you, and you silently slipped inside. He followed, taking a seat beside you, and signalled to his driver to drive back to the Ministry.

During the journey to the Ministry, the place he had mentioned once or twice with you, he held you even closer. You nestled your head on his shoulder, clutching onto his black suit. With a soft hum, he tenderly kissed your temple. Upon reaching the Ministry, he helped you to get out of the car. Your eyes widened with wonder at the sight of the grand building. The corridor, the marble floors, and the stained glass inside left you even more awe-struck. You remained silent, and so did Secondo. He gently guided you to his own room, closing the door behind you before gesturing towards the queen-sized bed. His room was big, decorated with taste and luxury.

"Sit down, cara mia," he softly urged. "Make yourself at home."

Without saying a word, you complied, settling onto the bed, and began to undress. However, Secondo gently halted your actions, realizing that he might have conveyed the wrong message.

"No, cara... Not tonight," he whispered with gentleness. "I just wanted to talk to you and take c-"

He paused when he saw your eyes welling up with tears.

“I’m sorry, Papa!” you cried “Please don’t be mad at me… please, I did not want to upset you…”

Secondo immediately reached out for you and hugged you tightly.

"I'm not upset with you, cara," Secondo whispered tenderly against your hair, his embrace offering comfort and reassurance. "Not at all, I understand why you had to..."

He held you close, his heart aching at the sight of your tears. Even though he felt betrayed for a short moment, his rage was never directed toward you. He understood that your actions were not intended to cause harm. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in the feeling of your body against his, taking in the scent of your hair. It was all it took for him to feel at peace again.

"But I... I couldn't bear to see him touch you," Secondo admitted, his voice laced with raw emotion. His grasp tightened slightly on your shoulders.

He sensed your reaction, feeling you stiffen within his arms as you withdrew from him slightly and met his gaze with a quivering voice.

"But... why?" you asked, your voice trembling, seeking an explanation for his intense reaction

Secondo gently cupped your cheeks in his hands. He took a deep breath. He knew it was now or never…

"Because I want you to be mine, cara. Only mine. I always want to be with you. I think about you all the time," Secondo confessed, his voice filled with longing and desire.

Leaning closer, he allowed his lips to linger on yours for a fleeting moment, a tender caress against your soft skin. Then he looked into your tearful eyes. It appeared that you found it hard to believe his words.

"But I thought that... I thought that you did not care for me..."

"I understand why you might have thought that," Secondo admitted, his voice tinged with both guilt and sadness. "I always cared about you deeply, but..."

He paused, wrestling with the emotions that had remained unspoken for too long. This moment, triggered by the events of tonight, compelled him to reveal his true feelings. After tonight, he knew he could not keep running away.

“I am an old, bitter man who can't even comprehend his own feelings," Secondo murmured as he tenderly caressed your cheeks. "I never expected any of this to happen. I didn't plan to fall in love with you, but it happened, and I didn't know how to deal with it."

Your eyes widened, your mouth slightly agape, but you remained speechless. A sense of dread clawed at his chest. There was no way you would feel the same, was there? He swallowed hard and continued, "I don't expect you to feel the same way but-"

But before he could finish his sentence, you silenced him with a passionate kiss. Secondo felt his heart pounding in his chest. He felt all the fear and all the doubt disappear. His hands quickly found their place on your waist.

He hummed softly against your lips. For once, touching you and feeling you was not a sweet torture, it was just pure, unaltered bliss. He felt lightheaded, lightheaded. Your lips were so soft, he already knew it but in that moment it felt like the wings of a fallen angel. You tasted like the finest of wine. He felt like he was getting high and drunk on your lips.

When you finally broke the kiss and rested your forehead against his, you whispered his name, "Secondo…”

Then you said “Every time you left, it felt like there was a hole in my soul and my heart," you confessed. "I thought you didn't care, that you only saw me as... a distraction."

"No, cara," Secondo replied gently, his voice filled with sincerity. "I was a fool. I thought my feelings would fade if I pushed them away, but they only grew stronger. Tonight, I felt like I was going to burst. I'm sorry, amore."

He tenderly kissed your forehead, his heart overwhelmed with the intensity of his love for you.

"Please be mine," Secondo whispered in your ear, his voice tinged with longing. "Mine, only mine... The idea of having to share you is killing me. I know you could probably have someone better than me, but..."

You gently placed a finger on his lips, your gaze locked onto his mismatched eyes. It was a side of him you had never seen before—so tender, so vulnerable. His voice carried a note of desperation.

"I will, I promise," you whispered with tender sincerity. "I'll be yours, only yours... There's no one better than you in my eyes. I always wanted to be with you, even when you weren't there... even when I was with other men. It was always you. And I promise I'll be yours and yours alone, yours to touch, yours to have."

Overwhelmed with emotion, Secondo wrapped his arms around you, holding you even closer, and buried his face in the crook of your neck. He felt the softness of your skin beneath his lips, your sweet scent was like a drug to him. At that moment, you both knew it was real. It was not a dream.

Secondo understood that when morning would come, he would not leave. He would not leave ever.

#the band ghost #secondo x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus ii #i'm so soft for that shit #i'm cryign #🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️#I NEED THE OLD WOUNDED BITTER MAN #goodfics

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noisy-v · 9 months

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The poor Cardinal was in dire need of some 'alone time'

(Praying the Tumblr Gods it doesn't get fl4gged again, please.)

You get the full pic of this on my Twitter :D

#the band ghost #ghost #ghost band #ghost bc #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #cardi #cardi c

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noisy-v · 9 months

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Hello! My commissions are finally open, if you are interested dm me! This is the kind of art you could get commissioned from me:

#commission art #commission open #the band ghost #ghost band #monster boyfriend #slasher fanart #slasher fandom

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noisy-v · 9 months

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Thinking about Secondo having a corruption kink but its not necessarily all sex related. Like I know that's what it's primarily about, but hear me out.

He introduces you to all the facets of pleasure, not just sex— though he thoroughly enjoys indulging in that one with you every chance he gets.

But letting you take a drag of his cigarette, or showing you how to shotgun, drinking in the smoke from your sweet lips. Watching you get high and floaty, content as you drift in his arms.

Driving you on his motorcycle at insane speeds, loving the way your arms fit around his waist, how you feel pressed flush against his backside. Watching the neon lights of the city flash by in a blink.

Loves getting you tipsy drunk, watching you giggle and get frisky. Your first time skinny dipping with the moonlight framing your almost nude body against the reflection of the lake.

#papa secondo #papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo x reader #secondo #papa ii #the band ghost #ghost bc #the ghost band #FERAL #🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏#yes please

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noisy-v · 9 months

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Affirmations For Papa | Secondo x Reader

Content / Warnings: Papa Emeritus II/Reader, SFW, 1.1k words, Secondo Angst

Author’s Note: Much thanks and love to @angelohspeak who encouraged me to post this <3 this is also definitely heavily influenced by our talks about Secondo <3

You introduce affirmations to Secondo and he has trouble accepting them.

“You’re not even trying, are you?” You’re sorely unimpressed with Secondo’s first few attempts; like a school boy blurting out whatever apology he was forced to give without any self reflection. You prop yourself up with an elbow, turning in bed to give him a leveled stare. He doesn’t look even remotely sorry, but he does scowl.

Continua a leggere

#papa emeritus ii #secondo #papa secondo #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost bc #ghost fanfiction #secondo x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa ii #papa emeritus 2 #fuck that's perfect #loved this so much #op your mind

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noisy-v · 9 months

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You already know what time it is 😎

Secret relationship prompt 12 with Primo, where he meets his partner when they were both young and they’ve been secretly together for decades - he kept it secret because they don’t like the attention and he wants them comfortable. But partner has a rough day and comes to the gardens for comfort and they get caught - maybe by one of his brothers, maybe Nihil, maybe a ghoul or sibling.

-🌵

Absolutely safe for work unless you're turned on by soft, sweet, romantic Primo - also I'm so sorry but I cannot find this prompt so, it is what it is until I can 💕

You know you shouldn't watch. Shouldn't be listening. Should turn your tail and go right back inside - your need for a few fresh flowers can wait.

Instead, you clutch the blossoms in your hand and stand there on the other side of the hedge. Watching. Listening. Entranced.

Sister Alba sits on one of the stone benches, holding a stem of a cream colored rose that shares her name. She's lovely in the afternoon light - always beautiful - she's usually in the treasury office or working the visitors desk during the week. She ordinarily wears her signature, sweet smile, green eyes sparkling when she greets you. The Siblings and Ghouls, you included, see her as sort of a den mother; she's the softer version of Imperator (who happens to be Sister Alba's best friend) and if you need a bit of love, a confidence or someone to gossip with... Sister Alba is the one you want.

Now, though, her face is sullen and her mouth downturned. She looks tired, "My darling, love," you hear a familiar, rasping voice and Primo appears a few moments later, "My heart, you know, it sings to see you in my garden but, like this?" he clucks his tongue and shakes his head, staring down at her with his hands on his hips, "It will not do."

He sits down next to her with a happy groan and she sighs, putting her head on his shoulder. He kisses her hair and takes her hand, "This new Papa reminds me that we are getting old."

Primo chuckles and puts a finger under her chin, she sits up to look at him, "We are old."

He kisses her then and you gasp - it is so sweet, so tender that you realize it is simply not a rendezvous of friends, "Years have gone by and I have never felt so decrepit as I do now," she huffs out a laugh as Primo wipes away errant tears, "I am soft and wrinkly and a bit pudgy and," Primo cuts her off, with a kiss, moving to his knees between her legs.

"My darling girl," he smiles and you smile, too, "You are radiant," he pulls her face down to his and kisses the corners of her eyes, the curves of her smile lines, "Evidence of a happy life, proof of a smile well-used. A smile that sends me all a shiver, eh?" he moves lower, nuzzling his face into her chest and then her tummy, "And this? Like a goddess - I worship you, every curve and crease of your perfect body," he straightens and his hands snake around to her backside, giving it a squeeze; Alba laughs and Primo echoes it, "And this? Well - my blossoms are far too delicate to hear what I think about this perfect backside. Your pudge makes me stiff as a brick."

"Oh, you're a pervert," she laughs, "and you are sucking up," she says and Primo shrugs.

"So what if I am?" he gazes up at Alba, "How many years have I loved you? Have you been mine?"

"An eternity," Alba runs her fingertip down his nose.

"And it will be an eternity more, si? We survived Terzo, we will survive Copia. My dear sweet, they are only going to get younger."

She leans forward, her smile renewed, that warmth of her so strong that even you feel it. The kiss is short and chaste between them but as they gaze at each other, you realize you've overstayed your welcome.

You turn then, leaving them to their secrecy - swearing yourself to uphold that secret now, too. Since you've been a Sibling it has been the general knowledge that Primo is a hard egg to crack and even harder to get into bed. His reputation snowballing into that of a tired, old man who had no use for wooing and no desire to be wooed.

You smile in the knowledge that Papa Emeritus the First is not the crusty, dusty old grandpa everyone thinks he is.

He's a happy, old Papa with a garden full of roses and a heart full of love.

#papa emeritus i #primo #papa emeritus 1 #sister of sin #the band ghost #SO CUTE 🥺🥺❤️❤️#op I just love the way you write

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noisy-v · 9 months

Note

hi!!! Can I get “i think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me” with Secondo please!!!! Thank you and love your work

Kiss Prompts: "I think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me."

Secondo x reader

Hihi thank you for the love!! And thank you for requesting Secondo my beloved <33 I got a little carried away with this one oooops

SFW! Contains: Angst, pining, implied smut but no explicit descriptions, manwhore Secondo trope, emotionally constipated Secondo, confessions, fluff and a happy ending, reader is gender neutral but there is one use of 'piccolina'

Kiss prompts

You have a... thing, with Secondo. This thing doesn't have a name, or a label, but it lives in his bed and in the heavy air inside his chamber as he makes you cry his name over and over. It's a thing that you know he shares with other Siblings of Sin, sometimes multiple at once. The thing is not special to him.

But it is to you.

It wasn't supposed to be special at first. It was just an arrangement that the two of you had (literally) stumbled into one evening after the dinner hour. Secondo had been furious at something Nihil had said and stormed out of the refectory, and you were the lucky Sibling who he practically ran over in his haste to distance himself from the old man. He had been angry and in need of a distraction, and the way his large hands grabbed your arms to keep you from falling had been enough for you to agree to join him in his bed that very night.

Apparently Secondo had enjoyed what relief you gave him, because he invited you to his bed again within a week of that incident. It became somewhat of a routine. He had been very clear from the start--it's just a form of stress relief. It's merely because your bodies reacted to another in a way that felt exquisite for you both. It is not an emotional affair in the slightest. Secondo is not an emotional man. So, you will take the little crumbs he offers you in the form of a repeated, open invitation.

But oh, how can you not fall in love with him when his aftercare is even better than the sex? He takes aftercare more seriously than he does its 'before' activity. Secondo does not allow you (or anyone) to stay the night after an evening of passion; but that doesn't mean you leave him feeling dejected or used. He is very, very careful to make sure you know he cares for you in at least some capacity. Whatever you need until you feel like you can stand on your own two feet again, he gives you. Massage? Bath or shower? Water and a snack? He does it before you can even ask. And then he'll walk you to the door, open it for you, and bid you a good night before promptly crushing your heart in his hands.

It's not just in his bedroom that you meet him. You occasionally run into him at the coffee pot in the Ministry kitchens. The first time, you'd offered to make him a cup. He told you how he takes his coffee, and you struck up a little conversation as you waited for it to brew. From there you always seemed to find a subject on which to approach him later--whether it's a sermon he plans to give, or a new type of tea you want to try, or a new tidbit of Ministry gossip (yes, he admits that he loves drama, but you are the only one who knows and he asked you to keep it that way). And at the end of each little interaction, he asks you to meet him that night, and you consider turning him down to protect your own feelings.

You come, though. Every time he invites you, you come back and you let him pulverize your heart into smaller and smaller pieces. It's your fault, really--you should've ended things with him as soon as you started to feel. Because as stellar as his aftercare is, all you can think about is having to fall asleep alone. Having to pretend you don't love him when you run into him during the day, masking your heartache with banter. How you'll never have his heart but you will always have the little smirks he gives you when you make him laugh.

The very man who holds your heart doesn't even know he's breaking it.

All of these thoughts, which you've started having every time you meet with him, swirl around your head as you come down from a rather long bout of sex with Secondo. He seems agitated tonight. He hadn't bothered with his usual bells and whistles, instead just choosing to take you in a more primal way. You've spent enough time with him (inside the bedroom and out) to know that there's something on his mind.

You decide to test your luck because your heart aches particularly hard for him this evening. "Papa," you say softly, "are you alright? You seem... distracted."

He doesn't turn his head to meet your gaze, instead choosing to close his eyes completely. The two of you lay on your backs beside one another and you desperately want to take his hand. "It is nothing, dolce."

Your heart clenches but you don't push the issue further. You take a few more breaths and steel yourself against the inevitable pain of having to leave him again. The blanket slides off your naked body as you sit up, searching for your discarded clothes on his floor. You don't have the strength to endure his tender aftercare tonight.

Secondo notices your poorly-concealed haste to dress and opens his eyes. "What do you need?" He asks too kindly.

"I... I need for you to let me go," you mutter, pulling on a sock. I need for you to let me leave tonight and I need for you not to ask me back.

"Dolce," Secondo calls after you when you stand to find your shoes. You can hear the slight confusion in his voice, still gravelly from how he growled in your ear minutes before. "Stop, and tell me what is wrong."

You turn your back to him. You can't look him in the eye when you break your own heart, because you will cry and that will be the last thing he sees of you. "I need to go."

You hear the rustling of blankets as Secondo stands. "No."

"No?" "No," he repeats. "You will stay and tell me why you are in such a hurry to leave."

You huff out a humorless laugh. "Isn't that what you want?" You snap. It comes out harsher than you'd meant--but perhaps this will be easier if he's angry at you. Easier for him, or for you?

"I want to make sure you are alright."

"I'm not," you say, your voice hitching. "I'm not, Secondo. So I need to go."

A broad hand comes to rest on your turned shoulder, and the warmth and weight of it comforts you despite your agony. "Are you hurt?" he speaks lowly. His voice is close to your ear. "Did I do something you did not like? Let me take care of you, dolce."

Secondo gently urges you to turn and face him, and you let him, but you don't meet his eyes. Instead you stare at your feet so he doesn't see the tears welling in your eyes from your shame. He's going to make you admit it.

His other hand gently curls under your chin and tilts your head up towards him. "Piccolina," he says when he sees how glassy your eyes are. The softness of his voice is like a salve on your feelings, even though you know this is just his aftercare.

"I can't do this, Papa," you say, the words tumbling from your mouth without your intent. "I need you to stop inviting me to your bed. Because I will come and it will only hurt more when you turn me away."

"Dolce--"

"I know," you cut him off, sounding more angry than you are. "I know it was supposed to be just a means to an end, but... it isn't for me. Not anymore."

You lift your chin away from his hand and turn to leave, but he catches you. He draws you into him, your back to his front and his large arms encircling you so you can't move. You release a pathetic little sob that sounds more like a whimper. "Please," you breathe.

He leans his head down so his cheek rests against your temple and his mouth is at your ear. "Stay," he whispers in the softest tone you've ever heard form him. "Stay the night."

You freeze. Did you hear that right...? "Wh-what?"

Secondo simply holds you for a moment. Silence echoes between you louder than your own rapid heartbeat in your ears. Hope blooms in your chest. It's warm and comfortable and it tugs at your soul. It tells you that all those crumbs he gave you fell from something bigger. Sweeter.

"Dolce... I have not taken another lover in months. not since you," he mutters in your ear. "You were never just a means to an end. I am sorry that it took me this long to... to accept that."

You turn in his grip, tilting your head up to look at his face. He's always been known to keep a healthy rotation of partners. You hadn't assumed that would change just because you came along, but he's telling you that it did. That with you, he feels like he doesn't need anyone else. The warm, simmering hope in your chest explodes when you meet his eyes.

The tips of his ears are red and it's the only indication that he's blushing under his smudged Papal paint. "I... do not make flowery speeches, piccolina. I cannot say I will do everything right. I may know how to seduce you but I..."

Oh, your poor, emotionally frustrated Papa. You can see the little crease between his brows deepen, and you know that he's kicking himself. "...I do not know how to do this."

You smile at him, trying to mask how badly you want to shout with elation. "I... I think this is the part where you kiss me," you whisper. "And then when you've kissed me to both our liking, you take me back to bed and hold me."

Secondo follows your rules. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you. It's a gesture free of lust or urgency, but you can also tell just how nervous he really is. You flatten your palms on his still-bare chest and his heart pounds against his ribcage. It's real, and it beats for you, just as yours beats for him.

He gently lifts you back into his bed and pulls your body against his. You settle into him, completely content, because you know you won't have to spend a night alone again.

#secondo x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus ii #secondo #the band ghost #ghost band #papa emeritus x reader #good stuff #DO YOU THINK ITS OKAY YO MAKE ME CRY #😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️#silly papa making all the siblings fall for him

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