Hello!! You can call me firefly or star I’m ok with either. I am comfortable with any pronouns! I’m aroace, and I’m 20 years old. This is my ghost side blog I mostly just shitpost for shits and giggles! I write some times I am slow to update. My main is @battery-bug-bat
still thinking about "people are too important to be brought into this world through accident, or malice. people should be wanted." btw. such a good fucking perspective on being pro-choice everybody say thank you tobias forge
I felt like writing a cute fic about taking care of Perpetua after a ritual so here it is! It's SFW and hopefully you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :) I'm so in love with this man, please help
What time is it? It must almost be over now, you think to yourself, fiddling with one of Perpetua's black lace gloves in your lap. It's been a long, strenuous but ultimately successful tour of Europe and there are only two rituals left after tonight.
Before you can ponder further, a familiar voice rouses you from your thoughts.
"My heart," Perpetua coos, closing the dressing room door behind him.
"Oh, my love, look at you…" You coo right back as he slumps down in the chair of his dressing table.
Perpetua's dark, curly hair is askew and damp with sweat, as is the rest of his body. His black silk shirt clings to his torso in a way that would lead to all manner of impure thoughts if you weren't so worried about him. He rests his beautiful face on his left palm, black and silver face paint smudged into a dark, dreary grey around his mouth.
"Can I get you anything?" You stand up, showing him that you are at his beck and call. He has a tendency to suffer in solemn silence, rarely asking other people for help even when he so desperately requires it.
"Ah…water, maybe," He pants, closing his eyes.
You rush over to the refrigerator and take out two bottles of cold water, dripping with condensation in the heat of the room. You open one and hand it to Perpetua and use the other as an ice pack, alternating between holding it to the feverishly hot skin of his face and neck. He sips the water in silence, using his other hand to rub up and down your arm affectionately to show his appreciation for you.
"Let me run a bath for you," You say softly, bringing a hand up to his cheek to caress his face, a perfect abstract painting of paint and sweat on his smooth skin. "I can wash your hair for you…"
"Mmh…" Perpetua hums at the thought of relaxing in the warm water, his hair and scalp being massaged by the hands of the person he loves most. "Please, my heart."
You breathe a sigh of relief and head to the bathroom of his dressing room which houses an almost cartoonishly large marble bathtub. "You could fit the whole band in here, huh?" You joke.
"Don't threaten them with a good time," Perpetua bites back, and you don't need to see his face to know he's grinning.
The water is warm and luscious on your skin as it gushes from the gold taps. You wait to ensure that the temperature is just right before adding large globs of bubble bath and returning to Perpetua in his chair.
"In the meantime…" You kneel down at his feet. "Let me take care of these…"
Perpetua sighs as you slide his socks and pointed black shoes from his feet carefully. He's not often so vulnerable, so willing to be taken care of, and you're going to treasure every moment of it.
"You take such good care of me, amore mio."
"This is what you do for people you love, V…" You smile warmly at him, sliding a hand up his calf.
He doesn't take his eyes, sparkling with admiration and longing, off you as you begin to massage his sore feet.
"Oh, that feels good…" He groans. "Grazie, my angel. Grazie…"
His feet are large and utterly too big for your hands but you are able to swiftly locate the areas of tension and pain, kneading and rubbing them until you feel him totally relax in your hold. You adore the way his skin feels to the touch, smooth but rough in places, a product of how dedicated he is to rehearsing and performing.
"You have dancer's feet, my love…"
Perpetua furrows his brows, still coated in smeared black paint. "Isn't that a disease?"
You erupt into laughter, realising that he misunderstood you. "No, no baby," You try your best to stifle it as his eyes are fixed on you, wide and concerned. "I meant…they're beautiful, if not a little rough on the soles here…" You lift a foot up, pointing to the areas often weathered with friction.
Perpetua relaxes back into the chair, now wrestling with a smile himself. "Ah…"
"The bath should be ready now," You help Perpetua to his now soothed feet as you both make your way to the bathroom which is now misty with hot steam and enveloped in the scent of vanilla and jasmine bubble bath.
As he removes his clothes, you can't help but stand in awe, admiring his body. Without the mask, his long black curls fall perfectly to frame the angle of his jaw. His pale skin is glistening with the remnants of sweat from his performance but in the dim, yellow light of the bathroom he's glowing and every detail, line and muscle is beautifully accentuated. Even more striking are his eyes, one a deep green that rivals a tumultuous ocean and the other the hue of moonlight. He looks like a piece of fine art and you almost forget why you're both standing here.
"Oh…" You breathe.
"Hm?" Perpetua cocks his head slightly.
"You're perfect." You say bluntly, unable to spill the poetry inside you, for which he is always the muse.
Perpetua leans down to kiss you, holding your chin between his thumb and index finger. "No, my love, you're perfect."
You frown at him jokingly. "We're not doing this now. Get in." You signal to the bath which is almost completely covered in bubbles. Perpetua chuckles, and does as you say.
He lets out another groan of relief and pleasure as he sinks into the water, letting it swallow all of him except for his head and neck. You reach for the glass jug on the side of the tub and fill it with warm water. Cupping a hand over his brow bone to protect his eyes, you slowly pour the water over his head, saturating his curls.
"Do you like to have your hair touched?" You enquire, gently rubbing at leftover paint around his eyes and nose with wet fingers.
"By you, yes…" He utters. "When I was a child, my uncle used to wash it for me because I didn't know how…and he was always so rough. With the brushing, too." Perpetua grimaces, making scratching motions with his hands.
You wince. "I'll never hurt you," You reassure him, leaning down to kiss his cheek.
With Perpetua's past in mind, you squeeze out a generous amount of shampoo into your palm before slowly and deliberately working it into his hair. He tilts his head back in pure bliss as you massage every inch of his scalp, lifting any sweat and paint.
"Okay?"
"Incredible." He moans, bringing one hand to your shoulder to rub it gently.
You fill the jug again, running your fingers through his strands as you rinse away any trace of bubbles. His hair looks longer when wet, his curls loose and shiny after being unburdened of everything. You tuck it behind his ears and kiss him one more time on the forehead.
Perpetua drains the water and climbs out of the tub as you hand him a soft towel, warm and fluffy from the towel rail. He dabs at his face and torso before wrapping it around his hips.
He looks like a new man, clean and refreshed and not a hint of the tension or pain that he entered the dressing room with an hour earlier.
"Let's go to bed, amore," He wraps an arm around your waist, pressing his lips to the top of your head.
"Movie?" You glance up at his striking eyes, half-joking but also longing to have a movie night with him because you haven't in months.
"Which one?" He smiles at you, melting you into a puddle on the spot.
"Hmm…Nosferatu?" You've both seen it so many times but you have a soft spot for silent movies and so does he. "You're great in that one…"
Perpetua gasps jokingly, raising an eyebrow at you.
"That's it…" He lunges at you as you run away, squealing and laughing. "I'll bite you, you bad girl."
As delighted as you are by the proposition, you play the game of cat and mouse, darting away from him as he playfully chases you while you both ready the bed and TV for a cozy night.
"My creature…" You say, with all of the love in the world.
