ghelullu

[ghelullu]

Wanted to paint him as Papa IV but with his old Cardinal days sideburns and mustache - the ponytail came as a bonus because of the long hair at the end of the Re-Imperatour

[ghelullu]

i do think, the very thing i love most about the papas is what i’m supposed to love least. how very flawed they are! there is no denying, ever. we know primo is an absolute lunatic, that he is doomerist, that he believes in the end of humanity. we know secondo is a sad, bitter, broken man, that he is indulgent, that he is self-destructive. we know that terzo is charismatic, bordering manipulative, too idealistic, too ambitious, proud, broken in his very own ways.

and then there is copia. a hater from the moment we met him, insulting terzo, insulting his father. he is angry, he is jealous, he is, at times, way too full of himself, he dislikes his father but he also acts like his father, he repeatedly gets stepped on and yet his first instinct is to step on his brother. he cannot let go, he wants the spotlight for himself because he has nowhere else he belongs. he curses, stutters, grumbles like a child, he doesn't do what he's not in the mood for, he works hard but only when he wants to, he does not handle his grief well, he ignores what he cannot face.

and i love it. i LOVE it. i love all of them. we have enough perfect characters, i want them in all their flawed beauty.

[ghelullu]

hop hop hop “what? you want a kiss too?”

[ghelullu]

🎸 backstage in the cat petting room

[ghelullu]

what if your doppelganger loved being you more than you ever loved being yourself. they're better at being you and everyone loves them and it feels almost selfish to want your life back. i want clone horror but the horror is that the thing trying to replace you is also the person you always wanted to be.

[ghelullu]

[ghelullu]

no lube, no protection, all night all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the church, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, while i gasp for air and scream the lord’s prayer, he can top me. (x)

[ghelullu]

it looked at me first

[ghelullu]

rats

[ghelullu]

atropa bella-donna

old paper texture

[ghelullu]

what is the band ghost even about

[ghelullu]

By the Book

Frater Imperator recruits Storm Ghoul - approx 1k, also on AO3

“This isn’t how you usually do things,” said the Ghoul.

“No. Well.” Frater Imperator rubbed a gloved hand across his eyes. “This isn’t how things usually go.”

They stood in the gently swirling dust of the library, a thin patch of daylight cutting across Copia’s shoes. Outside the window, which hadn’t been opened in his lifetime, were the bright but moody clouds of summer rain. There would be blue skies on the other side of the building, yet rain hit the window in irregular smatterings; today was not quite one thing, not quite the other.

The Ghoul in front of him had his masked head tilted, a stack of yellowed papers in his hands. He’d been patient and kind, only his body language giving away how he felt about the ambush. Copia knew he’d expected a question on the books and manuscripts he so diligently cared for, because that was all he ever got asked—he had been taken aback, and rightfully so, by a job offer. A career change, or a promotion, if the Ghoul could see it that way.

He stepped over to a desk at the end of a ceiling-high bookshelf, lowering the papers onto it and dusting off his hands once he let go. 

“And by my understanding,” the Ghoul said, “it’s a first.”

“We’re not really doing things, ah, by the book.” Copia shuffled his feet, then gestured to one of the bookshelves. “Ha.” He cringed at himself. “Anyway.”

Beneath his half-mask, the Ghoul gave him a faint smile.

He was one of those strange ones without a pack. Antisocial , some called them; defective , others claimed. Copia knew better. This solitude was not the Ghoul’s choosing, and he wouldn’t be here if not for the Clergy’s intervention; or, their mistakes. If you break up a pack, it is only natural that some cannot find one again.

So the Ghoul spent solitary days and nocturnal nights in the Ministry’s library wing, which spanned the basements to the rafters and other places Copia didn’t know. Ghouls alone were employed to know these; they were strong, inhuman, more able to withstand what those darkened rooms might throw at them. And, as the Clergy had once believed—expendable.

The library was hardly a safe place, but it wasn’t an unpleasant one. Whether he knew it or not, the Ghoul who stood in front of Copia had helped with this. Many reported a faraway voice that would drift through aisles of shelving and stacks of things lost to time. He filled the silence with whatever music came to mind, some of it read from crumbling leafs of sheet music, some of it his own. Copia was familiar with the library’s deep, welcoming tones, powerful enough through the stillness of all those rooms that one could listen without ever running into the singer. It had taken him years to realise that the piano music, too, that would sometimes rise up through the floors, came from him. The lower levels housed instruments, and what else would a Ghoul fill his time with than to learn them? It was instinct, after all.

“To summon a replacement…” Copia grimaced, grateful for one strange moment that those days were behind him. “It is a risk. As you well know, I’m sure.”

The Ghoul bowed his head in agreement. “I do.”

“Yeah. Too dicey for both Ghoul and… and, uh, Papa, to do it when he gets back. We have very little time in between. Legs of the tour, that is.”

When the space had opened up, those people who organised this sort of thing had jumped into action, making preparations for a ritual that Copia shut down the moment he caught wind of it. A rare act of authority on his part, and a rare point on which his opinion was submitted to. He had stood in front of that long table and given them the grisly details; the immediate effects on his body, the debilitating weakness, the ill health that lasted months—the pools of blood on the basement floor. How all he described had been the same for his brother, and it would be the same again. This is going to ruin the tour , he’d joked. Nobody in the room had got it.

Not to mention the weeks of training for a new Ghoul, just to get them safely in the vicinity as a human that wasn’t Papa. Granted, he’d heard the newest had been a little angel—but they weren’t all like that. There would be casualties from a plan like this, one way or another, and unless Copia and Perpetua had a long-lost triplet with a good set of lungs, it was, in his opinion, a no-go.

He’d shut down that ill-advised endeavour and brainstormed to no end, with his fellow higher-ups breathing down his neck at every turn. He came close to dusting off the ouija board and asking Mother Dearest for a hint. It was only when he strode into the library one afternoon, for what he’d never admit was a game of hide-and-seek with Sunshine Ghoul, that an idea began to form, swelling up with music so gentle that it did not disturb even the dust.

“We can discuss the benefits,” he continued, gearing himself to list them off. If this wasn’t enough to convince him, they might have to dismantle a podium—

“Oh, no need,” the Ghoul said with cheer. “I do what I’m told.” 

“No—” Copia sighed, clasping his hands. “Listen. We—I’m changing things. We are changing things. ‘Round here.” He gestured, aimlessly. “It’s a little more, eh—democratic, when it comes to you lot. You have a choice,” he clarified. “Why do you think there’s an opening in the band?”

The Ghoul was quiet and still, taking this in. He did not reply. He was plenty old enough to remember when choice was not something a Ghoul was allowed.

“It’s a change, obviously. A big one. Lots of training first. And you will have to meet them—acclimatise and assimilate, and all that—when they all come back here. I know this is a big ask, to merge with a pack so quickly, but they’re lovely, the lot of them—”

Copia cut himself off when the Ghoul shook his head. Outside, the rain picked up—he quite liked the muffled sound of it against the roof. 

“Oh? No?”

“Sorry. I mean—no, it’s not a big ask,” He said, that gentle smile returning. “Not for me.”

“Ah. Well. That’s great.” Copia gave him a thumbs up, a weight prematurely lifting from his chest. Perhaps this would all work out. “Take some… a little time to think about it. Not too long, though. Ah—” he held up a finger— “One more thing. How would you feel about working with the Clergy’s most aggravating knob?”

[ghelullu]

Papa V Perpetua | Detroit, MI

[ghelullu]

chems’ collection - he is picture disc

limited edition of 500. released october 4th, 2017

[ghelullu]

Important Secondo question: what are Secondos ticklish spots? (It's 900% true canon that he IS, he'd just rather die than admit it and most people are too scared to try; if you reach the highest trust levels in a relationship he will giggle)

his feet. oh i bet he is so ticklish on the underside of his feet 😭 it's good in the way he can hide it more easily than other spots but also– when you get him the world ends. another one? the backs of his knees. he's kicking out like a horse, tearing up when you tickle him. i wanna say he also has a very very sensitive spot below his ear but it's less giggly and more "i will absolutely pound you into the mattress if you touch me there."

[ghelullu]

the future is a foreign land

[ghelullu]

tummy

thank you @ghelullu for making me aware of this