Work Text:
The moment he walked onto the dance floor, Sister knew. He was the one. He looked just like his father, his father’s father, his father’s father’s father, his father’s father’s father’s father…
It had been prophesized he would come to them in a ritual – the missing lamb, separated from the flock - frightened but curious, ready for sacrifice… if he was brave enough to accept the dark anointment. It had been 6666 long days without a Papa, and finally, he was here.
What she didn’t expect was how lost he looked. How sweet, how innocent, how… utterly precious. What a sheltered life he’d led, playing in the light, in the Garden of Eden that was innocence. He gazed around the ritual hall in bemusement, his eyes both a lovely shade of bottle green. His Papal lineage slumbering deep.
They locked gazes. She felt a smile curl upon her lips as her breath quickened and fire licked at her veins. He shrugged off his coat.
Ah, shit. So – this was it. Right here, right now. Like this.
They danced. He clawed his way back into her arms when they parted; he spun her and looked deep into her eyes, his expression gentle and full of wonder. She whispered –
“Yes.”
The crowd swallowed them. They were disrobed, then clothed in white frock for Unholy Matrimony. Music and dancing swelled around them, hands grasping and supporting them as she anointed his face with the white and black ointment of his office. All the while, he looked only at her – his Prime Mover. His Imperator.
She felt power and darkness well in her fist, and she saw the flash of confusion on his face before she punched his left eye. When he reared back, his iris was white. He had accepted the gift of his bloodline.
He looked around slowly, seeing the world anew.
He was beautiful.
She cupped his face, her hands now soft – as gentle as his own around her waist, going around her to pull her close with tenderness – and then they were kissing, passionate and joyous, as a downpour of warm blood blessed them from above. His lips were chaste but his mouth was hot and yearning, and his body was solid and scorching against hers.
He smiled for the first time, and she laughed in ecstasy as they swayed and sang together – now reborn. Welcome the age of Papa Nihil and the Sister Imperator.