Pinned
Papa V Perpetua x Reader
NSFW. 18+ only.
Your gifts of Seership allow you to see Papa Perpetua in a light that others cannot. What lies beneath the powerful antipope's enigmatic exterior? Is it simply infatuation that draws you to him - or something deeper?
Themes & Warnings: explicit sexual content, reader is female & referred to with feminine pronouns, reader is a seer(a psychic, essentially - who can see into the spirit world), slightly submissive Papa, romance, light themes of destiny/fate.
words: 4,577
notes: my first fic for our beloved papa v <3. i wanted this fic to have a very dreamy, fairy tale-esque feel but of course with a big heaping of smut. likes, comments, reblogs + any & all feedback is very welcomed and appreciated!
Galaxies of iridescent glass shifted in the warmth of the sun’s extending rays. Kissed by light, scenes of the Luminary himself, praised by his witches and adoring disciples. Sheens of red, dappled like blood… coruscated with gold and sienna. An unholy halo of pure radiance, all to frame the handsome visage of the Lightbearer’s chosen vessel. Your gaze gently drifted down over the stained glass scene to fall upon Papa the Fifth, it’s dazzling rays like a message of love caressing his frame. Filtered to protect the vampiric minister from the sun’s scorching beams, the glow of its halo crowning your beloved antipope with nature’s affections. His nocturnal eminence, above you on the pulpit with heterochromed gaze gently felled upon his willing congregation. Were all as enraptured as you were, by the shining silhouette that spoke with gentle assuredness? Your eyes could not be torn from his visage to look around you, as all others amongst the living had fallen away from your attention. It was him… and the light of nature’s grace, the devil’s haven of beauty, that offered Papa Perpetua its radiant stage.
You allowed your gaze to soften, a calming signal for your gifts to come hence. The living world fell away, the veil of places Other coming into focus through a tender haze. Softened lights, like coruscating will-o-wisps floated softly in the stained glass beams. Perpetua’s voice, calm and engaging, had drawn the spirits to him. The pulsing of their souls matched the beating in your chest, the lights about their ephemeral forms growing bigger with each deliverance of Papa’s sermon.
