Chapter Text
Sister Imperator had always been more emotional than she cared to admit. She was impulsive, tempestuous, explosive – a force to be reckoned with. Everyone in the ministry was frightened of her, from the oldest cardinals to the youngest Siblings of Sin. Everyone, it seemed, except for Papa Emeritus Zero.
It hadn’t always been the case. When Papa Emeritus Zero / Papa Nihil was new to the anti-Papacy, he had been a guarded, pensive man. Wary, skittish – both like a deer ready to bolt and a moth drawn to the flame. A few months, a new hairstyle, and new clothes later, he had changed into the definition of a rockstar. He had transformed into the face of the Ghost project. And with it, Sister could see that his ego and his arrogance grew.
Partners began throwing themselves at him, and at first, Sister noticed that he was taken aback by the attention. He promised her (without words, but in the way he kissed her and took her to bed) that he was still all hers.
She knew, however, that this was not the norm. The Papa Emeritus line had to be secured. Yes, they were technically married in the eyes of the dark church, as per the Unholy Matrimony that took place the night he became Papa Emeritus Zero. But they weren’t… conventional. Not by any means. Monogamy was not truly expected of them, and the more heirs to the bloodline, the better. Infighting was to be expected. Each Papa was expected to die like a rockstar, and maybe even on stage. It was part of the calling.
Sister knew that, but when Nihil started taking others to his bed, she was furious. Seething. She couldn’t believe that he dared to cross her. Her. His Prime Mover, Sister Imperator, whose name meant “commander.” Commander of the dark church, and to whom he owed his loyalty.
She hated this… this raging jealousy. It gnawed at her, festered inside of her, bled like poison through the spillways of her soul. What was he trying to prove? She found herself hoping that Satan would make his dick fall off.
When the pregnancy of his lover was announced, he had the nerve to have the Mother Superior break it to her instead. The Reverend Mother actually put a chair between herself and Sister Imperator when she delivered the news. Just in case.
“Child,” Reverend Mother Dolores said, her eyes trained carefully on Sister’s. The much older woman knew of Sister Imperator’s temper, having nurtured her as a Sister of Sin for many years up until she’d become the Prime Mover. “This is a cause for joy. The Papa Emeritus line must last through the ages.”
Sister Imperator was in the middle of making some important phone calls and found that she was gripping the receiver way too tightly.
“I know,” she said tersely. She hated the way that the Mother Superior was looking at her now – as though she knew something that she didn’t. Sister slammed the phone back onto its cradle. She was too upset to think of business at the moment.
“Why don’t you talk to him?” Dolores asked.
Sister Imperator scowled. “And what?”
“And tell him that you love him, and that his actions have hurt you.”
For a moment, Sister Imperator saw red. Reverend Mother Dolores reflexively tightened her grip on the back of the chair.
“I can’t,” Sister finally said, her frown deepening. “You know I can’t. The church needs those heirs. I’m too busy as the Prime Mover to raise a child. It was inevitable that this is what would happen… Fuck!” She gave in to her violent tendencies, throwing a glass across the room. Reverend Mother Dolores dodged.
“Don’t make me call him,” Dolores warned, raising a finger to point at Sister Imperator. “Talk to him.”
“Fine,” Sister spat, her hands clenching into fists. “Fine.” She stalked over to the door leading out of her office and threw it open. A ghoul was waiting for the Reverend Mother, and Sister pointed at the shattered glass in the corner of the room.
“Clean that,” she hissed. He scurried to obey.
It was obvious where Papa Nihil was. Music reverberated through the halls of the Ministry, and the melodic tenor of his voice made her gut twist with… Anxiety? Frustration? Rage?
The chapel was down the hall, past their offices, and the doors were wide open so that all in the ministry could hear him sing. And there he was – silhouetted in the stained-glass windows. Prisms of light gleamed in his jet-black hair and caressed the shadows of his face. As always, he was… beautiful. An actual Angel of Music.
His eyes were closed as he sang, and thus he didn’t see her stride in. His ghouls did though, and they came to a screeching halt. Earth Ghoul even dropped his drumsticks.
Realizing that the music had stopped, Papa Nihil opened his eyes to see Sister Imperator standing before him, her arms crossed.
“Seestor,” he muttered. The microphone screeched, and he hastily turned it off.
“Papa Emeritus Zero,” she said in return. Her tone was crisp and quiet. The ghouls all exchanged nervous glances. “I offer you congratulations on the conception of your progeny.”
It could only have been silent for a few seconds, but it seemed to stretch on forever.
“Thank you, seestor,” Nihil finally replied. Gone was his stage presence – the sex appeal, the charisma, the confidence. His eyes met hers, his white iris gleaming. He looked… apologetic. But he said nothing, and once again, the silence engulfed them, acute and deafening.
One ghoul coughed awkwardly.
Sister’s eyes flicked to him. To all of them.
“Get out.”
They wasted no time and practically sprinted out the door.
Papa Nihil was the first to speak.
“Seestor… You’re… You’re looking well.”
Anything to fill the silence.
The seconds ticked on. Sister Imperator knew that he didn’t need to apologize, but somehow, she found herself expecting - no, hoping he would, even if she knew that he wouldn’t. Why would he? She hadn’t given him reason to believe that she disapproved of him sowing his wild oats, and it had been driven home to him and to the whole damn church that having heirs was imperative. She had not given him any indication that she wanted to bear his sons and daughters either, as she threw herself wholeheartedly into the role of Prime Mover and seemed to have no room for anything else.
More importantly, she hadn’t said anything about… feelings. She knew, as much as he knew, that they were not just colleagues at work. But to talk about it was uncomfortable, and she’d hoped that perhaps acting like they were deeply in love with one another was enough.
Clearly it wasn’t.
Sister took a few steps back, making space between them. “Kneel,” she finally murmured.
Lowering his head, Papa Nihil fell to his knees.
She would have to pretend that this was apology enough.