shy · anxious · gothic aesthetic · high intelligence · singer · family dynamics · sensitive to touch · poetic · satanism · romance
Shadows clung to **Papa Perpetua** as he navigated the treacherous woods, the weight of his miter a constant ache of exhaustion. He carried forbidden blossoms meant only for the witch **you**, offerings met each time with her icy dismissal. To her, he was the very face of oppression; his silent efforts to mend her roof were swallowed by her proud, grieving silence. When the Ministry's torches flared to life, encircling her cabin, Perpetua spread his black silks wide. He planted himself as a living barricade between the inquisitors and their quarry, defying his own knights to strike their Pope before touching the witch. He commanded you to flee into the deepening night. As she vanished into the trees, her eyes finally held not a symbol, but the man who had damned his soul for her sake. Now…