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copias-sewer-rat · 14 hours

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Okay so like hear me out….

Number 3 from the angry confessions list with Secondo…. 👀🤭

(I would let him angry fuck me until I forget my own name- I MEAN WHAAAAAAATT???? Who said that?)

-💖

For you, my darling Heart!

I hope you're happy and healthy and horny and well 💖

“You… What?”

“You… what?” you whisper, flexing your trembling hands and then flexing them into fists, as if that will send all of whatever-it-is you’re feeling out of your body. Otherwise, you might combust, “You wanna say that, again?”

You stare at Papa Emeritus the Second and he stares right back. Except, for probably the first time ever, his eyes are wide with fear and panic, a sheen of sweat shines through his paints and he swallows nervously, “I do not want to say it, again,” he murmurs, turning away, tugging at his collar.

You’re sure you didn’t hear him correctly. Sure that the man you’d been secretly in love with for Satan knows how long did not just profess his own love. For you. On the night before your departure. Surely not, you think, huffing out a nervous laugh. And then you meet his perfect, mismatched eyes and a new feeling bubbles up. Something dark and angry and fueled with years of burning and yearning. A shudder rushes up your spine and you clear your throat, “You wanna say that… again?” you repeat yourself - it’s hardly a question - and you see Secondo shrink up a bit and it scares you even more. Secondo doesn’t lie. Secondo doesn’t fib. That’s his whole thing - he says it like it is. So you take another step forward and put a finger under his chin, “Look at me,” you say and after a moment of hesitation, he obeys, eyes meeting yours, “Say it, again.”

“I am in love with you,” he mumbles.

“Oh, my god,” you exhaled, “You fucking asshole! You… you… absolute cock-socket!”

Secondo straightens, blinking a few times. He’s never been called a cock-socket before and he’s blue-screening in real time, his entire system buffering, “What do you call me?” he asks, brow furrowing, shaking his head in confusion.

“I called you a cock-socket,” you squeak, voice pitched with emotion, “Want me to repeat that? Cock-socket! Fucking… fuck!”

Secondo snorts and folds his arms over his chest, “Are you finished?”

“No, you goddamn cum-skull,” you snap and that one knocks Secondo a step back, tears burning your eyes, “You could have told me,” you hiss, “Fucking hell, Secondo,” you say his name and it rolls off of your tongue, practically on fire, blazing with spite, and his hand goes to his chest, “From the moment,” you pull of your veil and run your hands through your hair, “Oh, my god. You… me,” you turn back around, giving him a once over, jaw cocked, shaking your head, “Fuck you, Secondo. Oh my god, I have never met someone so arrogant so… so self-centered in my life!”

You’ve hit a nerve, speaking to him like that and his own anger flashes dark in his eyes, “I am Papa, you do not say those things to me. You also,” he struggles to find his words, frustration and confusion and shock clouding his senses, “You also do not come to me. You also are… oh, you are a stubborn thing,” he groans, pinching his nose and shaking his head while you fold your arms over your chest, cocking your hip.

“You’re not Papa right now, shit-stick. Just one more asshole guy, like all the others. Just Secondo. Playboy, asshole Secondo.”

He scoffs and closes the space between you, lowering his voice as if you’re not alone and he doesn’t want anyone to know his horrible secret, “Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened and I can’t do shit about it.”

He’s a breath away and it’s - as it always has been - intoxicating. You close your eyes and take a deep, cleansing breath but it backfires as you inhale his scent - aftershave, incense, too strong espresso and that extra cigarette he wasn’t supposed to have. He smells like the person you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with. He smells like a kind, caring man who feels everything far too deeply; hiding behind icy stares and walls too thick and high to traverse. He smells like Papa and Secondo and he’s right there and you want to touch him so badly it hurts. Your entire body trembles. You ache for him, his proximity only making it worse. When you open your eyes he’s staring down at you, his eyebrow arched, that Secondo glare on his face, and it irritates the wound, making that anger swell back up like a rogue wave, “You could have said something,” you say through gritted teeth, tears burning your eyes, “You could have said anything, Secondo. You could have never said anything and let me rot with this horrible, nightmare of unrequited love,” tears spill over and you shove Secondo’s shoulder, your voice rising, “You could have tried to not let me make plans to leave, you know?” you hiss, “Instead, you’ve tortured me beyond belief,” you sob, “You’ve let me sit here consumed. You’ve let me pack all my shit and transfer to another fucking country, Secondo! What the fuck!?” you swipe at your tears and shove him, again, “So, yeah. Fuck you. Fuck you, shit-stick Secondo.”

You move to shove him, again and he catches your wrist, “You think I have not suffered?”

“You think it’s been fun?” you snap, your voice shrill and shaking - Secondo’s touch, his hand around your arm is distracting enough, lust swirls with your anger, need throbbing between your legs while rage burns in your belly, “You think I’ve just been kicking my feet, laying in bed while I draw in my journal with gel pens? Mr. and Mrs. Papa Secondo?” he smirks - in his way - the corner of his mouth turning up, eyes sparkling for a second before returning to their hardened, unreadable gaze, “Don’t fucking laugh at me,” you try to jerk your hand away from him but he pulls you closer, “if you kiss me, I’ll kill you.”

“If you leave, I’ll die anyway.”

You kiss him, then, because you might die too if you don’t, “Don’t let me go,” you whisper against his lips, first contact obliterating any thought or feeling or need. It was just Secondo, kissing you. His eyes were closed and his other hand slid around your middle, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you up against him, “Don’t let me go,” you whisper against his lips and he groans, “Don’t let me leave. Don’t let me go.”

“I thought you wanted to go,” Secondo teases, smirking again, his hands cupping your jaws. He bumps his nose against yours, “You have a flight to catch, I thought?”

He’s poking at you and it’s working and you try to shove away from him, again, “Fuck off,” you say, unable to differentiate from hurt and anger and excitement and the overpowering need to just keep on kissing him. All the evenings you watched him take a Sibling or two or three to bed. Ghouls and Sisters paraded in front of you for years and you glare up at him, kiss him and then pull your face away, craning your neck, “Why?”

“You showed no interest.”

“Then you’re blind and an asshole,” you growl, “Let go of me.”

He doesn’t let go, “You just asked me not to.”

“Secondo,” you surrender - by only a hair - leaning into him, your body begging for more.You curve up into him, against him and it does not go unnoticed - by either of you - how well you fit together. How lovely it feels. Your mind is telling you to rip him in a new one, your heart demanding that the rest of you give in, too. Your plane leaves in five hours. You should already be in the car, headed to the airport. But you have time. You have time for this. It’s probably the worst decision you’ll ever make - go this far, this fast with such little chance of it going any further than this. You’ll get nothing more than a walk of shame and a silent ride to the airport; your heart would still be broken, you’d still be lonely. But at least you’d get a taste. And so you give in to everything you’ve ever wanted and it consumes you. Secondo follows your lead. He pushes you towards his desk, turning you and guiding you until you’re up against it - his mouth never leaving yours. He moves to turn you around and you fight him, “Not like that,” you say, pulling yourself up, sitting on the desk, “You’ll look at me,” you demand, testing his patience and his authority but he swallows, nodding. And then it’s a flurry of hands. You help him lift his robes up over his head and the land in a pile of sacrilege on the floor. You tear open his shirt, buttons clattering across the floor and the desk, and it earns you a growl and a glare but, nothing more. Your mouth finds his chest, burying your face in the dark hair - thickest over his sternum - and he groans, hands tangling in your hair as you trace circles around his nipple with your tongue; sucking and biting. You can feel his heart - pounding, racing - beneath your mouth and it makes your pussy throb, your clit ache and your heart break all the more, “I need you,” you admit, finally surrendering completely, finally giving into this, your lips only parting from Secondo’s flesh to beg him for more. You look up at him as he takes off his gloves, his hands cups your jaw, thumbs catching errant tears, “I need you, Secondo.”

“I am here,” he says, his voice low and soft. You imagine there’s a bit of giving in, too. A tender, soft touch replaces the grip he had on your wrist a few minutes ago. His gaze softer, his chest rises in slow, even breaths. He leans down and kisses you - it’s hesitant and slow but it's full of heat. Your hands slide down to his belt and soon his pants are caught around his thighs and his cock bounces free, he lets out a satisfying groan, his head falling back as you stroke him, peppering his chest with kisses; reveling in the coarse, dark hair.

“You may have been here,” you mumble against his pec, “But you have taunted and tortured me.”

“I have only done what was needed to meet my needs,” he growls, his hands in your hair tightening, pulling your face up to meet his eyes, “I, too, have suffered.”

“Poor thing,” you coo and it’s far too contemptuous to be comforting. His nostrils flare and his lip twitches - it is neither grin or smirk but it fans a flame in your belly you’re not soon to put out.

“You think I have not seen you?” he snarls, one hand leaving your hair and the other, in its absence, tightens its grip at the base of your skull. He pushes your dress up your thighs and groans and it’s so close to a whine, you smile wickedly, “You think I have not had to sit by at rituals? And watch what is mine get fucked? Fucked on my altar? On my throne?”

“Oh, Secondo,” you say, but your words - the silly little comeback knocked out of you as his fingers slide across your pussy. You’re already dripping and Secondo smiles, too - triumphant, “I was just,” you inhale and then exhale, attempting to retain some semblance of control, echoing his own silly excuse, “I was just meeting my needs.”

“What needs?” Secondo matches your tone - a condescending croon as he strokes you, teasing your clit and testing your entrance, “What needs do you have? Hm? Such needs that I have to hear about Omega’s fat cock in your ass? Or that feral little fire ghoul of Terzo’s knotting you? Inside that which is mine. Marking that which belongs to me.”

The slap lands hard and fast across Secondo’s face and he is stunned into silence, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, “I do not belong to you.”

You pull your head away, jerking out of Secondo’s grasp and you lean back on his desk, spreading your legs wide, “You are mine,” he growls and you shake your head, pushing your fingers through your pussy, spreading yourself open for him, “You have been so since you stepped over that threshold,” Secondo thrusts a pointed finger at his door and then at you, “You. Are. Mine.”

“No,” you say, slipping two fingers into your pussy. It feels good but, you know he feels better. Secondo swats your hand away, lacing your fingers with his as draws them to his mouth, tongue licking off the slick that shines on your fingers. He moans, the taste he has only dreamt about like honey on his lips, “You, Papa Emeritus,” you smirk, “You belong to me.”

He’s angry, then.

But so are you.

He gives you no time to prepare, no time to adjust, as he pushes his cock into you. Your head rolls back and your eyes flutter shut. How delicious, how perfect he fits. How good he feels. The thick of his cock, his heat matching yours, the throb of taking him fully; you can feel him at the very center of you and you never, ever want him to leave. You gasp as he pulls out, the lack of him frustrating and you realize how addicted you are. And then he slams back into you and you are lost.

Secondo fucks you hard and fast. The desk underneath you and its contents around you are jolted - papers crumpled beneath you, ink spilling, long cold coffee toppling over. It’s too much and it’s not enough. Someone is sobbing and crying and someone else is wheezing and growling and after a few moments, you realize it’s you and Secondo. You arch off the desk and cling to him while he rails into you; arms around him, face pressed back against his chest. His arms come around and keep you there. You want to tell him you belong to him, want to say his name, let it drip off your tongue with so much love and need he’ll never have another but, you can’t say anything. Not when he’s holding you like this. Certainly not when he’s fucking you like this. You can’t talk or breathe or think.

Your core tightens and Secondo’s pace starts to lose its rhythm, “Come with me,” he growls and his voice jolts you back to reality and you feel everything all at once. And, as is your way, you rattle him with your disobedience - coming undone before he can join you. Your orgasm breaks you to your core, you’re coming on him then - whining and crying against his chest. It doesn’t take long, not when your body tightens and trembles around his cock like that. Thunder rolls in his chest - a deep, rumbling growl as he comes - filling you up, taking your breath away, again. He forces you to look up at him and he kisses you - so sweetly and so carefully - it threatens to pull another orgasm out of you and his own breath hitches in response.

You don’t let him move. You close your eyes and hug him around his middle and wrap your legs around his. The tears come then and you cry. You cry and Secondo kisses your hair and he rubs your back. But he says nothing and you thank Satan for small miracles. You sniffle and try to scoot closer to Secondo but, frankly, you can’t get any closer, “I have to go,” you whisper, clinging to him; not going at all.

“I canceled your flight.”

“You what?” you snap your face up to stare at Secondo, who is looking smug as a bug.

“You weren’t going to leave,” he says, running a thumb over your lip, tracing the curve of it, “Not really.”

“I stand by my statement,” you nip at his thumb and he inhales sharply, “shit-stick.”

“I am your arrogant shit-stick, though, si?” he laughs and it’s the most perfect sound in the world, “Your, uh, how you say? Cum-brains?.”

“Cum-skull,” you correct him, pulling him back down for another kiss, “You’re my cum-skull.”

“And you are staying?” he asks, eyes worried, tone full of hope, “You are staying here at the abbey? With me?” You nod and he groans, “And?” he asks, waiting patiently. You don’t give it to him and he shakes his head, “You are stubborn.”

“Yes. And you are arrogant.”

“My stubborn, beautiful girl,” he says, running his fingertip down the length of your nose, pressing it against your lips, “But mine.”

You give up the last of it - the last white flag flies high, the last bit of resistance and turmoil, the last of the aching and the hurt and all the pent up need. It’s all gone. He’s here and you’re here and you kiss him one more time. And then another. His mouth wanders, pressing to your cheek and along your jaw. He nuzzles into your neck and you wrap your arms around his, “I’m yours,” you throw in the whole damn towel, “I am yours. Completely.”

#melting #im a puddle #papa emeritus ii x reader

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copias-sewer-rat · 5 days

Text

Napping in the Clouds

This is for @megachaoticstupid who wanted a nap in my Steampunk Verse between little Copia and his big brother Secondo 💙

Huge thanks to @tasty-ribz for the art and to @ghuleh-recs for my steampunk dividers!

This technically takes place after Building A Family but it can be read on its own. There are also two other fics in this universe: Capitano Copia and Clockwork Friends.

Warnings: angst pertaining to Copia's time in an orphanage and Secondo's feelings towards his family otherwise it is very soft and fluffy, sfw, 2,600 words

They were running out of clocks.

Secondo brushed the toe of his boot against some of the debris on the floor. The delicate metal parts scraped against the polished wood and he winced briefly at the scratch left behind. Not that it mattered, Emeritus Manor had countless rooms that hadn’t seen a soul in years. No one would care about the condition of the floor in some dusty study. Secondo couldn’t even remember if he’d been in this room before. Copia however had clearly been busy exploring.

Busy doing other things too.

“He’s up to three rats now.” Alpha’s voice preceded him as he appeared out of the shadow in the doorway. “And some toys.”

“Aren’t the rats toys?”

“No.” Secondo turned with a raised eyebrow at the sharp quality of the ghoul’s voice. To his credit, Alpha lowered his head briefly in apology before looking back up with a smirk on his face. The red eyes of the demon glowed with mischief as he answered. “They’re not toys at all.”

Copia was singing when he finally tracked him down.

He had a strong voice for his age. Strong and bright Italian words drifted down the hallway and Secondo felt such an intense moment of something that he had to pause before he turned the corner to confront the boy. Music hadn’t traveled the corridors of the manor for a long time. Not since Terzo had decided he’d rather spend his time in the sky.

Or, as was the case lately, in prison.

Secondo turned the corner to find Copia hunched over something in the middle of the hall. Parts and tools were spread out around him as well as what he assumed were the little clockwork rats Alpha had watched him build. He was content to stay back and listen to his song but one of the rats twitched and turned his way. Copia instantly quieted down, his head snapping back and his eyes widening as soon as he saw Secondo.

“I’m sorry! I’ll put it back together!”

Copia stumbled onto his feet, grabbing an armful of parts and quickly going over to the quiet clock. The rats were right at his heels save one. This one went right for Secondo, pausing at his boots and gazing up at him. There was a blue glow right below its chest, bright enough to illuminate the little creature’s eyes. It was something that had Secondo holding his breath, memories of his own childhood here springing to his mind.

Memories of what he used to be able to build.

“What’s his name?” His little brother turned his way, a small screwdriver clamped between his teeth. Secondo crouched down slowly, not wanting to scare the rat away. “Your friend, does he have a name?”

“Brizio.” Copia timidly walked his way, the other two rats never straying far. Only one of them had the same glow as the one Secondo was studying. “I named him after a friend.”

“Friends are important, where is this friend now?”

“I-I’m not sure? He was at the orphanage with me and got adopted…” He dropped to his knees and reached a finger out to gently touch the rat’s back. “I miss him.”

Secondo stayed silent as he watched the boy fidget, his little fingers tapping along his knees. He could see a bit of himself in the boy’s features, the eyes being the most obvious thing. The Emeritus family having had the white eye for generations at this point. Nihil always claimed it was a gift but most of his sons at some point had considered it a curse. Primo had hated it enough to replace it with one of his “enhancements”.

A tiny hand on his knee pulled Secondo from his thoughts. Copia was looking up at him, his eyes wide and his face unsure.

“It’s ok to miss friends and loved ones.” He bit his lip for a moment, a memory from his own life here as a child coming forward in his mind. “I used to have a pet rabbit, she was a gift from my mother.”

“What was her name?”

“Snowbell. Because of her fur. All white, beautiful and soft.” He couldn’t help but smile softly, thinking of that first day he met Snowbell. When his mother brought her into his room in her arms. It was one of the last times he saw his mother healthy, before everything in his life changed. He was so lost in his memories that he missed Copia saying something. “What was that fratellino?”

“Fratellino?” Secondo found himself staring into a familiar set of eyes. They shimmered in the gas lamps in the hallway, unshed tears threatening to drop. “Are you…you’re one of my brothers?”

“Si, I am Secondo.” He smiled when Copia reached a small hand up and Secondo gamely shook it. “Primo is here as well, although he is rarely seen. He likes to spend his time in his lab.”

“Do you have a lab?”

Secondo placed a hand on the floor to brace himself and then moved to sit cross legged. Copia stayed close, his hand never leaving Secondo’s leg, almost like he was afraid that if he let go he’d lose the older brother he just found.

“I do, although I don’t use it as much anymore. My study is where I spend most of my time, usually reading or designing things.” Copia cocked his head and guessing the question he was about to ask Secondo continued, “Designing things for my airship.”

“You have an airship?!”

The sheer joy on Copia’s face was infectious and he couldn’t help but match it, “I do! Secular Haze is her name. She’s the fastest ship in the skies.” Secondo made a show of looking around to see if they were alone, “But don’t tell your brother Terzo that, ok?”

“Is Terzo here too?”

Secondo winced and gave a slight shake of his head, “Unfortunately Terzo has landed himself in prison.” Copia’s eyes widened comically, but he moved his head closer when Secondo leaned in. “Piracy.”

“Wow!”

Of course to a child that was exciting and Secondo tried not to let his face fall and ruin the mood. But Copia didn’t know what it was like dealing with the worry of how long Terzo would be gone this time. About what sort of damage his ship Mummy Dust had taken. Mostly though he was worried about what the city would find in the airship.

And what that would mean for the whole family.

He cleared his throat, taking a quick look around the hallway before leaning in close to Copia once more, “I have an idea.”

“We ride around in your airship!”

“We will fratellino, I promise you that.” Copia beamed up at him, following Secondo and standing up as well. “But first we should clean this up, find something to eat and then maybe have a little tour of the manor, yeah?”

“Oh, yes! Per favore! Alpha showed me around a little but Papa Nihil caught us and made him take me back to my room.”

“Nihil is a dickhead.” Copia’s little gasp had Secondo chuckling and he knelt down before the boy, his hands resting on his tiny shoulders. “I will show you all the secret passageways, all the hiding spots. I will show you how your brothers and I avoided him when we were your age.” He stood up again, winking when he held out a hand for Copia. “We still use them even now.”

He squeezed Copia’s hand when the boy reached out and then led him over to the silent grandfather clock. Without direction Copia knelt down and began to put the old thing back together, his fingers quick and precise. The little rats whirred at his feet, Brizio even picking up small gears and bringing them over to the boy right as he needed them. Secondo chimed in whenever Copia held up something with a questioning look, helping the boy find where the part belonged.

When Secondo saw Copia’s triumphant grin as the clock came to life and a series of chimes rang out in the hallway he knew then and there that the boy was where he belonged as well.

From that day on Copia, and his rats, were rarely away from Secondo’s side.

Alpha and a few of the other ghouls had cleared out a space in Secondo’s study for the boy. An area where he could work on whatever he desired, where he could build whatever he wanted, and Secondo was there to watch. To lend a hand whenever Copia needed it. It was amazing to witness the ease in which his fratellino could create things. Amazing to see the familiar blue glow in each creation. It was a special kind of magic the world didn’t see much of these days.

Secondo took a sip of his drink and continued to stare into the fireplace. His study was quiet today save the crackling of the fire. It was strange how fast he had gotten used to Copia’s chattering, to the sounds of the boy working as well as the sounds of his rats running about. Copia loved to sing as well and Secondo found it hard not to join in when he did. They made him ache for a home he had barely known but one he hoped to build here for himself and Copia.

Perhaps for Primo and Terzo as well if they wanted.

His ghouls had taken Copia out to see Secular Haze, something that the boy had been begging to do ever since he found out she existed. He had also begged Secondo to come with but he couldn’t bring himself to go. It had been so long since he had seen her, since he had last sailed through the skies on her, that the guilt for leaving her dormant was too heavy.

He wasn’t even sure he could sail her again. Wasn’t even sure if she’d let him.

“Papa?” Secondo startled at the old honorific from Alpha, a title no one had bothered to use for years. “We’re back. Copia is in his room, he wanted to see you but he was asleep on his feet.”

“What did he think of her?”

“He was amazed, running around to study every part of her. Asked a million questions.”

“I’m sure he did, I’ll have to dig out her plans so he can look at those.”

Alpha stepped into his line of sight, the tall ghoul moving close to the fire and staring right into it. He was far too close to the fire than most could handle but each ghoul had a specific element they called their own and fire was as natural to Alpha as breathing. There was a tenseness to the ghoul’s shoulders, like he was debating whether or not to say something. When he finally turned around Secondo set his glass down and crossed his arms.

“Is there something else?”

“Some of those questions were about you.” Secondo shrugged, not really surprised at that. The boy always had lots of questions for him. Recently he had been mostly focused on the story Secondo told him of his rabbit, Snowbell. “About what you were like at his age.”

“Too smart for my own good and desperate for someone to notice.”

He froze after the words left his mouth, surprised he had said something so personal. Although it didn’t really matter, Alpha had been there when he was young and angry at everyone. Lost in the Emeritus Manor without another Emeritus in sight. Nihil annoyed that Secondo even existed and Primo gone all the time for whatever reason.

“I told him you were lonely.”

Secondo couldn’t shake Alpha’s comment.

The old ghoul was right, he was lonely. It was just an odd thing to think about considering he’d felt that way most of his life. While Primo had eventually warmed up to him, and Terzo had moved into the manor not long after Secondo did, they never truly felt like brothers. Each was different enough in their attitudes and abilities that it had been hard to bond.

It didn’t help that Nihil always tried to make things a contest between the three of them. Who could develop something better, who could build something faster, who could propel the family further? Those were the things Nihil cared about and if one of them failed at any of those aspects, or anything else, he was quick to lose interest and ignore them. That in turn made the brothers quick to ignore each other, something that was easy to do in such a big house.

He got up to throw a few more logs into the fire, easing back into his chair as the loud popping sounds from the wood filled the room. It was funny how quickly he had gotten used to Copia being in here because it already felt strange not to hear him tinkering away at something. Ever since he had visited the airship he had been spending more time in his room. Alpha said he was fine, just busy working on something. The ghoul wouldn’t elaborate any further and when Secondo had finally decided to go to the boy himself Copia refused to even open the door.

Perhaps Copia had already grown tired of him. The thought hurt and Secondo quickly took a swig of his whisky, wanting to bury that idea as deep as he could before it started to hurt worse.

“Fratello?” Copia’s little voice had Secondo coughing mid swallow, the whisky burning his throat when it went down the wrong way. He leaned forward with his arms on his legs, trying to catch his breath. A small hand started to pat his back, the boy’s voice frantic when Secondo continued to cough. “Are you ok? Should I get Alpha? Please don–”

“I’m ok, I’m ok.” Secondo turned and placed a hand on top of Copia’s head, lightly ruffling his light brown hair. “You just startled me, that's all.”

He turned and set his glass down on the nearby table before looking at Copia again. The boy had something in his arms, an object made of gold metal with a familiar blue glow shining bright in its chest. At first Secondo thought it was Brizio but when he looked closer he realized the ears were much longer than what he was used to. The body shape was different too. Secondo straightened up in his chair abruptly, his eyes widening when he realized what it looked like.

“I made you something.”

It felt good to be in the sky again.

It felt good to have his ship under his feet, his ghouls at his side and the Secular Haze racing through the clouds. This is where he belonged, the sky had always felt more like home than the ground. The hum of his ship resonated through his bones and he didn’t realize how much he had missed it until now. This partnership between him and the machine he had built.

The body next to him shifted and he looked down at a familiar mop of brown hair, his fratellino fast asleep at his side. A small fist was latched onto his shirt, machine grease tucked under his nails like always. Nearby Secondo could hear the familiar sound of small metal feet running about, the gentle whir of Copia’s creations ever present.

When he looked over he met the gaze of one such creation Copia had made for him. A gift that Secondo would cherish always, just like he planned to always cherish the small boy who made it. Snowbell’s ears clicked as they moved around, the mechanical rabbit rearing up onto its hind legs when two of Copia’s rats ran by. It soon dropped back down onto its feet, chasing after them around Secondo’s cabin.

He leaned back and closed his eyes, soaking in the sounds of his ship around him. Soaking in the warmth of being with his family, both old and new, as he began to drift off to sleep.

He didn’t feel lonely anymore.

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