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turbodrawn · 1 year

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Death Warrant (Copia x Polyghouls, with Copia x Aether focus)

Summary: Copia and the ghouls are dreading what is to come following the aftermath of the 2023 Grammys loss, operating on the thought that winning it would be his only chance to persuade the Ministry to spare him the fate that befell his brothers, and now they must deal with the harsh reality of it all.

Tags: Rated M. Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a happy ending, Copia/Polyghouls, Copia/Aether. ~21k words

TW: Dissociation, Suicidal ideation/thoughts (almost suicide attempt [?], )

Find it on AO3 here

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Preamble: Admittedly, I started writing this the day Ghost lost the 2023 Grammys, but evidently, I am an extremely slow writer. So disregard lore/events that have happened since the Grammys when going into this fic.

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Even though the venue was only packed half-full, it still managed to stimulate Aether’s senses far past a comfortable limit. Tensions ran high within the crowd, nerves and excitement flowing in waves that his quintessence powers clung to almost greedily, refusing to drown out any amount of input, background or otherwise. The ghoul would have tried to flush his system of the absorbed emotions- maybe even block them off from the start- but his efforts would’ve been completely useless, like trying to wash away grease with nothing but water.

Safe to say, he was tired. No, scratch that, exhausted. But he needed to be there. They all needed to be there. If not for the band, then for Copia, the latter was always a higher priority in his mind. As the quintessence ghoul’s thoughts turned to Copia he found his gaze doing the same, drifting over to focus on the man as he sat to the side of Aether.

If you were to judge by his face alone, Copia was calm, cool, and collected, the only sign of stress manifesting through pursed lips and shifting eyes. However, the facade fell away the minute his body language was considered. His fingers rubbed relentlessly against each other and the palm of his right hand while his left lay in his lap, balled tightly into a fist. It didn’t take a ghoul’s heightened sense to recognize that he was nervous. Beyond nervous, really. His well-muscled leg bouncing violently up and down was a telltale enough of his nervous energy. Now, if you were to factor in a ghoul’s senses, it was borderline impossible to ignore. Even over the crowd and announcements, Aether didn’t so much as have to strain his ears to hear the man’s heartbeat that hammered inside his chest, threatening to burst through his ribs with a relentless thump-thumping beat.

The drone of the ceremony continued in the background, unregistered beyond an incoherent din by Aether’s brain in favor of his attention and thoughts remaining heavily on Copia. Truthfully, his attention to the actual ceremony had been overall absent since they had entered the venue, though he’d never say it out loud, lest he be met with an unending lecture from some clergy member and the band’s public image. But the prospect of awards outside of their own meant little to him- to any of the other ghouls for that matter. It was a superfluous human ritual and, while he liked to partake in observing similar circumstances from time to time (even joining them on occasion), the Grammys were a “bit much”, as Cumulus had tried to put it nicely. Copia’s well-being was of far greater importance to him anyways.

He continued to monitor the changes in the man’s vitals and mannerisms as the show went on, albeit in a semi-secretive fashion, his steel-gray eyes focused on him from behind the vents on the sides of his mask’s goggles. The last thing that he needed to happen was for Copia to notice, becoming antsier than he already was now that a pair of eyes were locked onto him as a result. Or worse, attempt to uphold the illusion that he was doing “a-ok” (his words) and ultimately push himself to the point of self-implosion, all for the sake of not becoming an undue burden on any of his ghouls because he could “handle it”.

In his earlier days as frontman of the Ghost Project, Copia had been a walking ball of nerves, his anxieties beyond palpable the moment your eyes laid on him. He had been so easy to send into a spiral of distress that even a single step taken that was not in accordance with his overall plan could send him careening into a jittery fit. He had been (and frankly, still was) so desperate to prove himself- to do things right - and anything outside of his carefully concocted scheme was bound to result in disaster- at least in his mind, it would.

There had been days when those around him had to treat him as though he were an overwound mechanical watch, ready to break into pieces the second things went wrong, that is, if they didn’t wish to make his disposition worse. It would be an outright lie to claim there was never a ghoul or member of the Ministry that took advantage of this, setting him off for their own amusement. This nature of his had translated into the mundane, every-day as well, with his constant overwrought state becoming a unique obstacle that those who wished to be close to him were forced to figure out how to work around. Aether couldn’t begin to recall how many times he had heard one of the ghouls startled him to the point of letting out a short scream, dropping whatever he held in his arms. Many a coffee mug had been tragically lost to this, the ceramic mugs finally being traded in for a far less fragile metal tumbler once the graveyard of ceramic shards grew too full.

Though, even with this, he had managed fine, very well even, with him succeeding to a notable extent as the years went on and his confidence growing steadily as a result. By the time of his ascension, it seemed as though he had become fairly apt at managing his stress, and gone were the days of the “overly twitchy and borderline-neurotic Cardinal” that was miraculously successful at his job. However, with the title of Papa came a slew of new problems and worries. And while he had grown to be able to handle more than anyone had thought he could years prior, they had only continued to metastasize and grow, the digging tendrils of doubt, anxieties, and pure dread burrowing between his cells and ingraining themselves into his very DNA. Somehow it had managed to make him feel worse than he had when he first took over the Ghost Project- more insecure, more worried, more unfit for the job- but that was something he would have never admitted, because if he did, then Papa Nihil and an unthinkable amount of the Clergy would have been right.

Then Sister Imperator would be disappointed.

But Aether had known of these newfound anxieties that plagued him, and by extension, the other seven ghouls had known it (or at least known a vague notion of this) too, and for some time now. His quintessence made it near impossible for such aggressively overwhelming feelings as Copia’s- albeit stripped down to their most basic of physical sensations- to go unnoticed. For that, while he felt a tad bit guilty for the intrusion on the privacy of one’s own brain that his Papa likely took for granted, he was grateful, especially now.

Copia, as of recently, had become well-versed, skilled even, at hiding what he truly felt, taking to removing himself or putting on a straight face when such things became too much from time to time. It had gotten to the point that most people would assume he was doing well even- and to an extent, he was. He was relatively successful, he had his ghouls, and he had his little games and tricycles. He had his happy moments.

He could manage most of the negative and the bad- at least in small increments- but as of recently, its hold on him had only grown infinitely worse, making the charade of fine-ness infinitely more complicated. Those tendrils that plagued him from what felt like the start, dug ever deeper, disrupting any semblance of stability that he still had, leaving him hanging on by a thread.

Observing this over the years, no matter how many times he had been reassured that Copia had been fine, created a similar sense of dread deep within the quintessence ghoul’s gut. He was worried for him, for so many reasons, he and his fellow ghouls were worried sick for him, especially with the fate of the other Papas threatening to befall him as well.

Aether’s train of thought had only become increasingly lost as he continued to watch Copia from the corner of his eye. The sights and sounds around him all but melted away into a soup of unregistered stimuli as he followed the white rabbit that was his Papa’s well-being down the metaphorical rabbit hole of his mind. The distant sound of Copia’s heartbeat was the only thing he could still hear with crystal-clear clarity, acting only to lull him down further.

Remaining in such a limbo of background noise sounded almost pleasant, even if it was on such a subject. If he didn’t leave there, there would be no conclusion to those thoughts, no end that he would have to come to terms with and process. They would all remain frozen in their semi-hypothetical state, not quite the best, but far better than the possibility of what they all dreaded. And frankly, if it weren’t for the seemingly humanly-impossible jump in Copia’s rapid heart rate that now jackhammered against Aether’s eardrums, he would have remained there, missing the announcer’s transition to the category they had been entered in.

His upper body having gone rigid at the announcement, Copia shoved his now interlaced hands between his thighs and squeezed them together tightly. His leg still bounced with nervous energy, the movement now constrained to below the knee as he stared wide-eyed up at the announcer on stage. Aether leaned forward in his seat slightly, looking past Copia and catching the eyes of the fire ghoul on his left. He gave a quick twitch of his head in the direction of the man between them, to which Dewdrop acknowledged with a short rumble, the pitch too low for human ears to register.

Ghouls never really needed words to “speak”, often relying on different-pitched noises and body language to communicate very basic concepts to each other. In the case of a complex topic, they then would utilize either their native infernal language or a human tongue. Though, if a group of ghouls spent time around one another in high enough frequency, over time, these short forms of communication could be used to convey said complexities as well. Considering this, as well as the extensive amount of time their collective pack had spent together, it was safe to say the two ghouls needed to say little more than they already had to understand what was being conveyed: keep an eye on Papa .

While, as of now, preserving Copia’s well-being was within their job description, this came from a place of sincere concern above all else. His safety and health meant more to the ghouls than just a charge they were to protect and perform with- no matter what Sister Imperator had commanded.

From the beginning, Sister Imperator had made it clear that the seven (now eight) ghouls were to only concern themselves with their contract-given duties as assigned by the Ministry, which ultimately boiled down to “protect and serve”. They were never to involve themselves deeper than a worker would their boss at a somewhat tolerable job, especially if it was concerning Nihil, her, or Copia- that had been made abundantly clear since each of their summonings or transfers. Imperator had laid out a promise, the threat of banishment or worse if they stuck so much as a clawed toe out of line, and she had seemed eager to keep it. But, the youngest Emeritus had thrown the rule to the wind. He treated his ghouls more like friends- family , really- opening himself up to his ghouls like the bleeding heart he was, asking for nothing but acceptance and love in return.

Maybe it had been the success that the Ghost Project had incurred due to the chemistry between Copia and his ghouls on stage, or maybe Sister Imperator had a soft spot for her pet project of a son, but the relationship between the ghouls and him was allowed to flourish despite her threats.

As a seemingly direct result of her leniency, Aether could confidently state that the eight of them considered their Papa one of the pack (in the somewhat culture-shock-inducing way a human could be), with even some of the most hesitant or stubborn of the group would agree. He himself had fallen into the former category upon first being assigned to who was Cardinal Copia and his rituals at the time, though this remained a tidbit about himself that he kept close to his chest as he was hesitant to admit it, even to himself. The quintessence ghoul prided himself in his affable nature, especially towards strangers (until given reason otherwise), but he hadn’t afforded Copia the same treatment in the beginning. He, having seen firsthand what happens to a Papa when the Ministry no longer wishes to have them as the face of the Ghost Project, was terrified of becoming attached.

Aether was still plagued by the thick, insidious residue left in his brain by the day Terzo had been dragged off stage and the subsequent day months later when he had met his demise. The memory of those days existed in his mind like a demented paradox, not quite there but oh so painfully vivid. The events were a blur, a jumbled slideshow of grainy snapshots, the figures captured barely discernible. But the physical sensations? They cut through the haze like a hot knife through butter. And frankly, if you were to ask him to recall those moments in his life, all he’d be able to describe would be the hellfire-like pain that had erupted in his gut and spread to his chest, voraciously consuming him from the inside out, leaving him a charred and empty husk.

It was a pain he found himself barely able to withstand, and the thought of exposing himself to it again had terrified him to his core. But he found himself inexplicably drawn to the Cardinal. Maybe it was his charming awkwardness or his genuine care for things that were so often overlooked in life that had enchanted him, either way, Aether found him impossible to ignore.

At first, the start of their relationship had been rocky, with a man so desperate to be liked, to be loved, reaching for a being that was desperate to love but petrified by the potential for loss and pain again. It had been a circumstance of an immovable force meeting an unstoppable object, but somehow, the man was able to get through.

Maybe it had been that desperate need to love again that ultimately won, or that Copia had lulled him into such a sense of ease that he couldn’t bear to shut himself off from the Cardinal any longer, but Aether found himself opening again. Baring himself to someone in his life that wasn’t born of hell and infernal blood and by that, a far greater risk of getting hurt in the end because humans were so fragile after all. This was even more so true when the human wore the target on their back which was the frontman title of the Ghost Project.

Truly, it hadn’t taken long for him to fall rapidly into what he’d describe as love, even if his heart felt rusty and out of practice. Sure, it had been kept warm and accustomed to infernal affections thanks to the few ghouls who understood how he felt- both Mountain and Dewdrop being present for Terzo's slow demise as he had been- but this was different. It was the shaky start of newborn love, like a foal standing on its legs for the first time, gathering its strength to walk, and then to run. His heart was unfamiliar with the routine of this new song and dance of ardor, one that would fill but not replace the old one, but it took to the challenge like a fish to water, relieved to return to a habitat in which it thrived.

This only opened him up to more love in the end. As he finally surrendered himself to Copia, new venues stood agape for the affections that his new pack had begun to brew. It hadn’t taken long for them all- ghouls and man alike- to build a home on each other’s hearts, with even Dewdrop succumbing to it in the end, despite his furious insistence that he would never open himself up again.

It was because of this bond forged throughout the years in blood, sweat, and tears, the ghouls knew how much the award meant to their Papa, how much of his self-worth in his eyes and both Sister’s and Nihil’s eyes, rode on the back of the award. However, it paled in comparison to what both Copia and the ghouls feared was yet to come in lieu of the ceremony’s results. It was an ice-cold dread that hung in the back of their minds, breathing down the nape of their necks, counting down the minutes and days to an unknown end. It was the fear for his future fate- something Aether had frequently shoved into the recesses of his mind because if he were to dwell on it- and so close to the deciding moment-he’d likely lose his shit.

The announcer, with envelope in hand, cleared his throat. He had tried to muffle the noise, turning his head away from the mic, but it had little success. The jarring noise bled from the speakers and reverberated harshly against the venue’s walls, grating on the ghouls’ already frayed nerves. Each of them recoiled at the auditory offense, a low growl bubbling up in the back of their throat or a thin hiss slipping from between their teeth.

The announcer turned back to the microphone, beginning to break the seal on the envelope.

“And the winner for the best metal performance is-”

In this final moment, Aether turned his metallic eyes to the stage, his direct attention perhaps being the final thing that could, in some way, somehow, tip the universe’s scale in their favor. If ghouls were the type of creatures to pray, Aether would have prayed a thousand- even a million- times if it meant that his Papa would finally get what he greatly deserved and it could secure his safety.

But ghouls weren’t.

And Copia wouldn’t.

He hadn’t listened past the first syllable of the name that was shouted into the microphone with a cheeriness that came as sharp lacerations to Aether’s infernal soul. He hadn’t cared to listen. It wasn’t theirs and that’s all that mattered. They’d lost. The only thing that drowned out the cacophony of congratulatory applause that had followed was the sharp, high-pitch ringing that now took place in his ears, deafening the ghoul to most sounds around him.

Snapping his head with such haste that Aether swore he felt a handful of vertebrae crack, he threw all pretense of appearing as if he wasn’t staring to the wind and examined Copia through the dark lenses of his mask. An intense and harrowing worry bubbled inside him as he held his breath and waited for his reaction.

Sobbing, wailing, cursing, pleading, praying- hell, maybe even a meltdown- the ghoul tried to prepare himself for the worst response he could imagine, though, for all reactions Aether thought of, he found them all to be fair in his book.

The ringing in his ears and the subsequent cacophony of claps from hundreds of guests began to fade into a dull uproar, the sounds taking their place in the back of his mind as he continued to stare, a haunted expression worn under his mask. The stiff forms of the other ghouls leaned forward in their seats, their black, bug-like lenses focused intently on the Antipope between them, joining in at staring expectantly at their Papa as they waited for a reaction.

Copia’s eyes were still glued to the stage but there was a particularly vacant and dull quality to his gaze, his face void of expression save for a small smile. His hands rose robotically, joining the many others in congratulatory applause, albeit soft and somewhat discordant in its rhythm.

Aether watched on in confusion, his brows knitting together from under his mask as he observed him. Something was off with him. What had been the constant feedback of his Copia’s anxiety had disappeared, leaving his quintessence empty of his input. Seconds passed with nothing taking its place, then what felt like minutes, still resulting in nothing. The ghoul had expected him to be distraught, overcome with emotions to the point that it would become near impossible to contain them, perhaps even needing to be consoled or corralled in the process. But this? This? It was something entirely different from what Aether had expected. Instead of the pain and dread and whatever else negative emotion that the quintessence ghoul had damn near planned and prepared for, all that emanated from the man next to him was a dull haze, thick like soup and impossible to wade through. It was something akin to an oppressing fog that obscured anything beyond the tip of your nose, effectively hiding any possible traces of emotion for Aether to chase.

He couldn’t tell if this outcome was better or worse.

From beyond Copia, Sunshine, and Swiss’ heads now sat on a swivel. Ever the observant ones, their attention had been drawn away from their Papa by the bulky, black cameras panning over the crowd, it and its respective spotlight ultimately settling on their rigid forms. Aether, taking notice of the two ghouls’ diverging concentration, followed the direction of their line of sight. To his nauseating chagrin, he saw their faces- more so masks, save for Copia- displayed on one of the many large LED screens posted to the sides of the stage, replacing one of the many congratulatory images of the winner in horrific splendor.

Silently cursing the camera crew and everyone else in the venue, Aether tore his attention away from the screens and returned it to Copia once again, finding that the smile that had been the only break between his otherwise empty expression had fallen. His painted face had taken on an intense look of exhaustion now, the lines in his face that had become ever prominent in the past months now slack. The overhead light that shone down on them like a malevolent searchlight overemphasized the shapes of his face, abruptly transforming its structure to that of one that looked far more drawn and hollow. The painted shapes on his skin only worked to exaggerate this even further, the curves of his cheeks and depths of eye sockets deepening significantly. Color had drained from the few areas of his exposed skin, leaving him waxy and pale. He took on a lifeless appearance as his body slumped back into his chair.

He looked almost like a corpse, or maybe even a ghost , Aether thought, laughing to himself mirthlessly. This all felt like some cruel comedy routine and they were the main act, made to flounder in distress and agony for the rest of the venue to gawp and laugh at.

It hurt to see him like this. It hurt so fucking much. That hellfire-like burn inside his chest, the one he had become so intimately acquainted with that night Terzo had been ripped from the stage and his subsequent execution months later, began to make its return, the flames licking at his ribs and caressing his heart and lungs with violent enthusiasm. It might as well have been heartburn sent from the ninth circle of hell and in no way was any amount of antacids going to help.

At a loss for ways to help either himself or his Papa, Aether placed a cautious hand on Copia’s thigh, his clawed thumb rubbing back and forth lightly on the outside of his leg. It helped as much as he thought it would- which is to say not at all. Copia’s mismatched eyes still remained glazed over and distant, his limbs laying limp and figure still. The only true movement he made was the near imperceivable rise and fall of his chest as he took in the shallowest of breaths, almost as if the air in the room was a finite resource and he was desperate to conserve it.

Despite the obvious ineffectiveness of the quintessence ghoul’s comforts, Dewdrop joined him in his efforts, shifting as far as his seat’s armrest would allow him, and leaning into Copia’s side. With the somewhat little body weight he had, he tried to provide Copia with a warm and comforting pressure that he knew the man had come to appreciate in times of stress.

The three of them stayed like that- with the six other ghouls remaining fixated on their Papa or their surroundings- for the remainder of the ceremony. Copia only finally stirred from his frozen position, rising like a member of the living dead, well after the seated crowd began to leave. He stood up from his chair in a way that made it seem like the mere action alone took all the effort he could ever muster and began to trudge through the rows of seats and towards the exit, his ghouls flanking silently behind him.

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The bright and excitable background that lay beyond the ceremony venue felt as if it were mocking them the minute they stepped outside. Each laugh, each smile, it all had felt like an offense, taking its toll on each of them as they began their march back to the limo that waited to take them home. Whether it was obvious or not, there was a thrum of shot nerves amongst them all, palpable in the very air around them.

Cirrus, trying to be the solid rock for the pack that she often was, gave little indication of stress- at least, to the untrained eye that is. Those who truly knew her would take one look at how her blunt, nail-polish-painted claws picked at one another and (if she were partly unmasked) the way her fangs worried at her bottom lip would say otherwise. And, as if she were a litmus test for the pack’s level of stress, if Cirrus was unable to maintain her utter composure in the face of what lay before them, then the others would (very likely) not be faring any better.

Ghouls such as Swiss and Sunshine shifted restlessly, moving from foot to foot as the second they as a group had to stand still, waiting for some other menagerie of people to pass. The inklings of quintessence that ran through their beings as multi-ghouls were in overdrive. Not as well regulated nor understood as a solely-quintessence ghoul’s powers, their many elemental factors fed off the quintessence to create a chaotic internal storm, filling their vessels with an energy that made it nigh painful to sit still through.

Mountain fared no better, in his own not-completely-understood-by-the-others way (save for the previous air ghoul, Zephyr, but knowing that aided the pack very little at the moment). Mountain had grown silent- which wasn’t unusual for the giant ghoul- but it was the type of silence that was cause for concern. The earth ghoul was a known observer, preferring to watch instead of speak more times than not, which meant, even if he was paying attention to something other than what was at hand, he was focused. Noticing. But not now. As of now, he had retreated somewhere in his mind as he did on occasion- a place he couldn’t begin to explain, only able to offer a mild “ I dunno ” upon question- completely absent from this world.

It was reminiscent of how Copia was as of now, Aether had come to think, but the earth ghoul was too far gone to be of any help at the moment.

Rain and Cumulus, on the other hand, fidgeted relentlessly with their uniforms. The smaller air ghoulette picked at the purposeful imperfections of her jacket and chewed at the inside of her lip, taking little care for the blood she had begun to taste. This was while Rain, hands held close to his chest, spun the ring he wore on one hand back and forth on repeat.

The ghouls no longer troubled themselves with keeping the illusion of the hellish invariable collective. Truthfully, it had come to the point that none of them could bring themselves to give a shit about said rule, given the circumstances.

Aether, in an attempt to abate his own stress, surveyed each member of his pack, trying to gauge their state of composure, trying to assess their need for aid- though, he was likely in no position to provide it.

Was it his job? No. It had never been his job to keep the peace and manage the emotions of everyone around him. If anything, he had been told to “butt out of it” on more than one occasion, but, at times like these where dysregulation was high, he felt obligated to. Blame it on his element or on his inherent need to be needed, it just was the only way he could begin to feasibly fix this mess- or at the very least, make himself feel better, if only a fraction.

Making his way through the other six ghouls and finding that, while they all seemed to cling to composure with a weakened and slipping grip, they would remain “okay” for now, Aether turned his focus to the last ghoul, the one that concerned him the most when it came to dealing with stress. Dewdrop.

If the telltale creaking of his unyielding fangs clenched hard against one another and the tightly balled state of his fists was to be any indication of the small ghoul’s state of agitation, he was on the precipice of an explosion.

Despite his presence becoming nigh synonymous with stoicness (save for the exaggerations of his frustrations on stage), the water-ghoul-turned-fire-ghoul was fragile. It had taken him months of effort to find a semblance of control and stability and years to come close to being able to maintain it. And this had been asking for patience from his pack mates, new and old, all the while. So much change and so much tragedy packed within such a short period of time so soon after his summoning had made him volatile. That’s not to say both Mountain and Aether couldn’t relate, they both had been exposed to a similar start to their topside lives, but it was different. He was never given the chance to mourn, for both Terzo and himself. He was never given the chance to figure out who he was before his change, before his gills turned to cauterized divots and his blood turned to gasoline.

A part of him was grateful for the transformation though, the roaring crackle and searing heat of his new element fit his fiery nature, but it burned away at parts of himself that he ached to have back. The one part he missed so frequently was the ability to automatically regulate himself. Water ghouls, so often placid in their nature, had a knack for it. Even he, with his white-water-rapid-attitude, had it. Now, now , he felt everything too strongly, too vividly, with no innate ability to stop it. He was tired of the all-consuming and ever-exhausting emotions it would cause and the overwhelming amount of effort he’d have to employ to overcome them. He had been getting better at it, though, right?

Even though that had been true, everything that day had done its damndest to push each of their limits, leaving his reserves empty. Traumas that were unique to him and those that he shared with both Mountain shared and Aether were rearing their ugly heads with no way to stop them, making it impossible to escape from a downward spiral of fury-inducing anguish that he was prone to.

The small fire ghoul’s mind was reeling.

How dare they be happy. How dare they feel good when they had to fear for the well-being of their Papa. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair. He didn’t want to- no- he couldn’t lose another one. It had taken him years to finally let himself become attached to Copia after the abrupt removal and death of Terzo.

He’d finally gotten comfortable. He’d finally found himself capable of loving again- capable of being loved again- he couldn’t go through losing that a second time.

Every Papa would retire, everyone, especially the ghouls, knew that. But ever since the execution orders were set for the three retired Emeritus brothers, all in the name of allowing the next to ascend, it had been a day Copia’s ghouls dreaded, hoping beyond all hope that maybe it’d be different for him. Maybe if their Papa was good enough, maybe if they were good enough, the Ministry would spare him. The 2023 Grammys could have been Copia’s chance to prove himself, to save himself, even if it hadn’t worked for Terzo. Just maybe.

They all knew it was unreasonable, stupid even, but hope was all they had.

Well, all they had had.

Now Satan only knew what the clergy had in store for Copia when his time came, and if Aether were to consider all that had happened since his summoning, it wouldn’t be good.

Copia and his ghouls trudged through the crowds, a funeral procession for a living dead man with the eight ghouls sticking close around him, deterring any post-ceremony

conversations or interactions. To each of the ghouls’ surprise however, there was a singular brave- or perhaps stupid- member of the paparazzi that stepped in their way, a string of questions spilling from his mouth as the light of his camera flashed relentlessly in their faces. The nine of them froze in their tracks, mildly dumbfounded by the audacity of the man. He may have not known the extent of damage one ghoul could do to a human body, their teeth crushing bone while their claws ripped through flesh with ease, but if this taunt was to continue, he would soon know well enough. He might as well have been antagonizing eight loose tigers, their stomachs empty and blood boiling.

A growing unignorable tension spread throughout the ghouls, many of them clenching and unclenching their claws reflexively with hackles raised and low, rumbling growls building in the back of their throats.

Aether found himself joining many of his pack mates in this involuntary display. His lips drew back in a snarl as his own unfamiliar rumble of anger reverberated in his chest, but he caught himself before he teetered off the precipice of loss of self-control.

They needed to get to the limousine and leave now before they ended up being the topic everyone and their mother would be posting about. He had to get them to snap out of it.

The quintessence ghoul gave a series of strangled, frantic chirps, attempting to redirect the attention of his pack that stood ready to pounce. When his first series of calls fell on unhearing ears, the noises failing to shake the other ghouls of their fixation, he let out another set of chirps, the rising panic and desperation tangible within his voice. Small twitches of heads, just enough to angle an ear towards Aether, rippled through the pack, the reluctant unclenching of claws and loosening of taut muscles following slowly after.

Just as Aether allowed himself to let out a sigh of shaky relief, he was shoved to the side, causing him to stumble.

Evidently, his efforts hadn’t worked on all of the ghouls.

Dewdrop, having come from the back of the pack and now pushing past Copia (who had been standing there, almost entirely unaware of the situation from inside his dissociative haze), had finally snapped. His usual composure and stoic stature had been disregarded in favor of blind, passion-fueled rage.

Aether’s body locked in horrified anticipation. He wasn’t usually the type to freeze in times of sudden stress, quite the opposite really, he was one to spring into action, acting on instinct rather than waiting, but there was something about that day that made his limbs seize up, cementing him to where he stood. He watched in slow motion as Dew pulled down his balaclava to expose his mouth to the man- who still stood, blabbering on continuously- the lights of the venue glinting off of the ghoul’s bared fangs. A guttural growl followed by a sharp hiss left Dewdrop’s throat, sounding not unlike a cornered wild cat. It was a clear promise of bodily destruction that Aether knew the fire ghoul would not hesitate to make good on.

He wanted blood, he wanted pain. He wanted to show them, make them feel how he felt.

Brief, sharp screams littered the air from members of the crowd that had now gathered around the ghouls and Copia, having sensed even the tiniest potential for drama like sharks smelling a drop of blood in the ocean. However, even with the screams, they still watched the scene unfold with irritating curiosity, phones and cameras pointed straight at them.

The offending man that Dew had locked in his sights was finally hit with the realization that his interaction was far from wanted- a realization he was fairly accustomed to, but these deadly ramifications were something entirely new. Dropping his camera with a yelp of terror, he fell to his knees, his hands clasped tightly together as he began to beg. Desperate, whining pleas for forgiveness came from his quivering lips in a jumbled string of words, the noise grating on each of the ghouls’ ears. When his logic that the enraged Dewdrop- a creature not of man but of hellish origins- could be reasoned with failed, he turned his pleas to Copia, screaming at him to call off his monster , then turned to the crowd, begging for their help. However, both Copia and their audience stood paralyzed, he still in his daze and the others in horrified shock.

Dewdrop closed the few steps between him and the man, his heaving body looming over him as he leered down at him through the lenses of his mask, his eyes filled with undeniable bloodlust. Another growl, this one deeper and far more guttural, began to emanate from Dew as he raised a poised claw, ready to tear his victim’s flesh from the bone.

Aether waited with bated breath, squeezing his eyes shut and bracing himself for the sound of blood spattering against the pavement and the chorus of screams that would follow.

But it never came.

Upon opening his eyes cautiously, Aether saw that instead of a blood-soaked Dewdrop and gore-painted ground, the smaller ghoul was now enveloped in Mountain’s arms. The enormous ghoul, even in his unpresent frame of mind, had not fallen victim to the frozen state that had befallen Aether and was able to pull Dewdrop away before he struck. The man that kneeled before them began to endlessly thank earth ghoul for his inadvertent rescue, his body shaking with the pure terror-induced adrenaline of a near-death experience, though his gratefulness went ignored.

Dewdrop squirmed in Mountain’s vice-like grip, legs kicking fruitlessly in the air as the earth ghoul lifted him off the ground, preventing him from getting any form of purchase. A harsh caterwaul erupted from his gnashing mouth, a string of expletives aimed at both Mountain and the man following quickly after- though the earth ghoul knew the ones meant for him lacked sincerity.

The furious cry that had come from the small ghoul shook the grip that the shocked daze held on the audience, returning them to conscious reality.

The shrill noise wasn’t what truly shocked Aether however, it was the soft sound of unconstrained weeping that the small ghoul’s expletives metamorphosed into.

Dew had gone limp in Mountain’s grip, his arms clinging tightly to earth ghoul’s own, not to attempt to pry them off, but with the desire to be held. His thin frame shook as tears fell from his tightly squeezed eyes; what remained of them after making their way from under his mask streaked in thin, wobbly lines around his taut, u-shaped mouth, contorted by his crying.

While Aether was accustomed to the smaller ghoul’s anger-filled outbursts (though, the public variety was far rarer), there was only a handful of times he had shown true vulnerability like this, and that had been in private . The number of times that had happened in public was a far smaller amount, one that he was confident he could count on a single hand. None had been as blatant as this, however.

Aether felt the hot sting of tears pricking at the corners of his own eyes, his grief- which had been distracted in the brief moments where Dewdrop stood ready to strike- came rushing over him again, somehow heavier than the first time.

Leaving the Grammys venue would make it official. Permanent . Like signing a death warrant, condemning those who the document spoke of to the slaughter.

Suddenly going off the deep end like Dew almost had didn’t sound like such a bad idea, Aether had thought.

Shoving this notion down and setting his jaw hard, desperate to subdue the new tremble of his chin, he caught the attention of Cirrus, their lense-shielded eyes locking. The air ghoulette that so often held herself with an air of ferocity and liveliness had taken on a wilted look, like a cut flower left in a vase a bit too long, most of its vibrancy having ebbed away. Despite this, Aether knew he could rely on her, especially at such a time when he feared the unavoidable shake in his voice and the loss of his already waning composure if he were to try to speak.

Taking Aether’s silent plea in stride, Cirrus let out a sharp trill, spurring the others to continue moving forward.

Mountain was the first to resume making his way to the limousine, still carrying Dewdrop in his arms (though he now held Dew bridal style, with the small ghoul curled into his chest) as he stepped past the man with his camera, who remained cowered on the ground. The rest of them followed suit, ignoring the flashing of cameras and murmuring voices around them, with one exception; Copia stood still, his eyes locked onto nothing in particular, somehow appearing deeper into his daze than he had been previously. His pallor had taken on a shade that nearly matched the deathly white of his papal paint and there was a sway to his stance that made it seem that the gentlest of breezes would send him toppling to the ground like a frail house of sticks.

Aether, swallowing an emergent hitch of his breath at seeing him like this, fell to the rear of the group, motioning with a brief jerk of his head for the other ghouls to continue without them- to which, even though there was some resistance, they complied. He took to Copia’s side, placing a gentle but trembling hand on the small of his back, his touch feather-light as opposed to his usual firm but tender habits. He was trying his damndest not to startle him, but in the end, his effort felt near useless.

Copia’s muscles tensed briefly under Aether’s touch as he jumped at the feeling of the ghoul’s hand against him, his head whipping unsteadily to face him so that his bleary, mismatched eyes reflected in the dark lenses of the ghoul’s mask. He uttered a weak noise of something between surprise and confusion, sounding as if he had been woken up mid-dream.

“Come on, Papa,” Aether murmured, his face close to Copia’s ear, his voice, despite its low volume, notably wavering. “We’re headin’ back.”

“Wha- oh,” he said almost sleepily, his voice a hoarse whisper. He took a second to fully register what Aether had said, his mind lagging far behind his surroundings, and nodded his head listlessly in agreement, “ Okay .”

Encouraging Copia forward with a ginger pull from his hand that he still held on the man’s back, Aether led Copia after the others, his eyes never leaving the man for more than a handful of seconds at a time.

By the time they had reached the limo, the last two ghouls standing outside the vehicle (this being Swiss and Mountain) were lowering themselves into their seats. Though, upon seeing Aether and Copia approaching out of the corner of his eye, Mountain stepped out of the backseat silently, making room for them to enter. Aether gave a brief, strained chuff of appreciation and guided Copia through the limousine door as he did, following him in quickly after.

The scene he was met with upon sliding into his seat was one that only cemented the presence of the nauseating bile that had built steadily in his stomach. There was a suffocating stagnancy that permeated the cabin of the vehicle now that the only hope they thought they still had was gone. The weight of this realization had descended upon them all, settling deep within their chests and wrapping itself around their hearts in such a way that it felt impossible to breathe. The only true sound that managed to pervade such a blanket of otherwise near silence came from Rain. The low, yet wispy rumble that was so unique to him, emanated from within his chest as he held Dewdrop in his lap, the water ghoul’s chin resting in the crook of the other’s neck while they rocked in unison.

He was trying to comfort him. Aether, utilizing the minute amount of quintessence he could muster to increase its effectiveness, joined Rain to form a rumbling duet.

The sound visibly loosened the taught muscles of the limousine passengers, if only just a bit, with even Copia’s slumped and dazed form leaning into his side, as if the noise had drawn the man’s body to him. They would need all the comfort they could get at a moment like this.

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” Rain said, the fatigue that was felt by all present in the drag of his syllables. The water ghoul wasn’t known for being the most optimistic out of the bunch- quite the opposite, really- but he was trying. Perhaps, just by saying “everything will be okay” it would manifest a happy ending to all of this, and things will turn out alright. Their kind weren’t the ones to deal in miracles, but it was worth a shot.

Rain stroked a thin, pallid hand back and forth against Dewdrop’s back- whether it was to soothe himself or for the fire ghoul at this point would be anyone’s guess. Nevertheless, Dew’s body shook just barely now, his tears now ceased, pointing to something having worked.

This was how the scene within the limousine remained until they arrived at the steps of the abbey- the purr-punctuated but otherwise silent atmosphere only breaking once the vehicle came to a halt and stood idle for a moment.

Aether and Copia remained still as the others began to stir around him, shifting towards the opening limousine door. The ghoul sucked in a breath, expanding his lungs as far as they could inflate, and steeled himself for whatever lay waiting for them outside those doors. By the time he felt prepared (as well as he ever would be), they were the only ones left inside the vehicle’s cabin.

Letting the air trickle out from his lungs in a slow exhale, Aether placed a gentle hand on Copia’s knee, wiggling it back and forth slightly to grab his attention. It was a sad attempt at playfulness on his part, and it was made even more so with the small, forced smile Aether gave when he looked at the man beside him.

Copia, now a bit more present, returned his gaze with heavy-lidded eyes, his exhaustion glaringly prominent on his painted face. The excitable, almost childlike glint that so often found its place within his eyes was absent, a dull, death-like glaze taking its place.

Despite how many times he had been knocked down, berated, or ridiculed in the short time (in terms of a ghoul’s existence, at least) Aether had known Copia, the ghoul had only one distant memory of a time when the man’s eyes had taken on such a look of abject defeat. That one moment- the image clouded by his own grief and turmoil- had been at the funeral procession for the three Emeritus brothers before the Cardinal. Despite the even briefer length of time Aether had known him at the time of the procession, with his affections for him still far from blossoming into what it was now, he had made a wish that day to never see Copia in that state again. Not for the reason that he didn’t want to deal with him when in such a condition- he was a people-pleasing quintessence ghoul for Satan’s sake, he lived to serve- but for the pain it caused him to see such a man hurt like that.

All Aether wanted to do right that very moment was hold him, enveloping him within his body in its entirety, and never let go. And maybe he’d let him, at least for tonight.

Taking Copia’s hand that lay limply in his lap in his own, Aether slid out of the limousine, his Papa in tow. They were met by the same seven, black-goggled stares that they had been upon approaching the vehicle, the air of exhaustion and concern thick amongst the pack.

Rain still held onto Dewdrop as they stood outside the vehicle. His arms were threaded around the fire ghoul’s chest from behind with a distinctive grip, providing Dew with the compression he so often craved. This was all while the water ghoul’s head rested against Swiss’ shoulder, who was at their side. The multi-ghoul’s hand clutched at Rain’s hip, bearing a not-so-subtle tremor as he reciprocated the affection, resting his head atop the other’s. Next to them, Mountain sagged where he stood, his lengthy frame folding in on itself with the weight of that night’s events. He looked as if he were about to collapse if it weren’t for Cumulus, who had wedged herself snuggly under his arm, her own arms wrapped around his half-bent waist with a crushing grip. Their tails hung heavily together, intertwined and squeezing each other, attempting to wring out any form of comfort they could from one another. The other two ghoulettes, Cirrus and Sunshine, clung together not far away, attempting something similar. Cirrus leaned heavily into Sunny, nuzzling deeply against her body as their standing position allowed. Their hands that hung between them were clasped together, fingers interlocked with their grip near white-knuckled, while the air ghoulette clenched the multi-ghoulette’s upper arm in her other hand for good measure.

Each ghoul held onto each other as if their pack mate would vanish if their grasp were to so much as to waiver, determined to ensure they would stay together. Even Aether found himself holding onto Copia’s gloved hand with an iron grip that was sure to make the man’s hand ache, though he made no indication of it if it did. It was all they could do, really, considering such a luxury of confidence in remaining there- alive - couldn’t be afforded for their Papa. Not to the extent they could expect for each other, at least. The ghouls would try their damnedest to change that fact, however. Aether was sure of it.

“I don’t entirely know what I was expecting, but I thought we’d have Imperator halfway up our asses by now,” Swiss said with thinly veiled distaste, adequately expressing how the other ghouls felt about the woman as well. Though, if you were to ask some of them, a far louder, far more crass version would be needed to convey the proper message.

A handful of the ghouls took to glancing around themselves at their surroundings, finding that the multi-ghoul had made a fair observation. The front yard and subsequent entrance to the abbey were near empty. Only an odd ghoul, clergy member, or sibling passed by with no intention to stop.

Most days, even at a somewhat-later time of night such as then (the time being 9:18 pm to be exact), more than just a handful of abbey residents would still be bustling around into the later hours of the night. Whether it be in the spirit of work or play, it wouldn’t be until well past midnight that the back-and-forth of uniformed figures would truly come to the trickle of bodies it was now. This oddly disquieting observation made the ghouls’ hairs stand on end and they had yet to factor in that they had returned from the Grammys of all things. A factor where, no matter the outcome, one would think they would have been met with a small crowd of people to explain themselves to, or at the very least, be met by the people controlling the operation in the first place.

Aether couldn’t care less, however. The less people- the less Imperator - to deal with, the better.

Feeling the way in which Copia’s hand tightened around his own at the mention of Sister Imperator’s name, the quintessence ghoul became determined to not afford her the option to catch them. With the Copia’s hand still in his, Aether pulled forward with more force than he had intended, anxious to leave the open space of the yard and return to the protective walls of the ghouls’ wing of the abbey, yanking the man with him. Copia, still somewhat unsteady on his legs, stumbled after him, his sudden lurch forward causing both Swiss, Sunshine, and Cumulus to untangle themselves from their pack mates and lunge forward, ready to catch him. Though he managed to maintain his footing, offering quiet words of reassurance to the ghouls who jumped to his aid that he was fine, Cirrus barked an admonishing, “ Aether! ”, causing the ghoul to abruptly stop in his tracks.

“ Shit, Papa, sorry -“ he began, the shame of being so wrapped up within his own head that he forgot about the person he was worried about in the first place rose to his cheeks, flushing them a deep, wine from under his mask.

Copia, seeming mostly, if not entirely, cognizant now, cut his apologies short. “It’s fine. I’m fine, really,” he said, taking his hand out from Aether’s grasp and offering the ghoul a light pat on the back.

He wasn’t sure if it was fine, really. There was an ache of emptiness in both his palm and chest as Copia took his hand out from his that spawned yet another thread of worry within his brain- as if there weren’t already enough to tie a rope and hang himself with . This time, it was the fear that his Papa was pulling away, shutting down, and putting on a face to save others the trouble as he’d so commonly do.

He seemed to be back to acting “normal” enough- for the situation at least- but the glazed stare of defeat still remained in Copia’s eyes and it all but disturbed Aether.

“We ne- I, uh, just really want to get inside. Been too much stimulation and people, you know?” Aether said sheepishly, the tiny swell of guilt growing in his gut. This was not for the fact that he was humiliated to admit the day had taken its toll on him (though this, with many other feelings of inadequacy, would haunt him in the near future) but for the fact that he intended to use it and his quintessence to his advantage.

By nature, Aether was straightforward. There were few times where he didn’t say what he meant outright, and of those few times, they were reserved for times when he found it (and the persuasive powers of his element) absolutely necessary- minus the occasional, playful harassment that usually found Dewdrop or Swiss as the recipient. The self-identified necessity for his brand of manipulation never placated the sparks of guilt that he would experience for days after, however, feeling in some way that he had betrayed those he loved through his actions.

They, for the most part, trusted each other. Each member listened to the other’s concerns and took it to heart if it was serious enough- even in the event of a previous spat or argument. So there was no real reason for him to believe that his packmates and Papa wouldn’t listen to his concerns and follow him to their quarters without much fuss, but Aether was incapable of explaining himself. Truthfully, he currently felt incapable of everything he was meant to do . He had failed to keep control of the situation as they left the Grammys, and he had failed to manage his own emotions once they arrived at the abbey, almost hurting the man whom they were all worried about in the process. He had let his entire pack down as well as Copia, and no amount of him could admit that he was continuing to fail at regulating his emotions or that he was falling back onto less than savory methods to try and placate them, ultimately failing his loved ones further.

But they’d have to send him back to the pit before he let himself fail at keeping Copia safe from the Ministry.

“I’d have to agree with the sentiment. It’s been, eh… a long day ,” Copia said, hesitating as he tried to find the right word to describe the shit show that was not far in the past. “I’m sure we could all use some ‘R & R’.”

He gave little time for the weary murmurs of agreement to leave the lips of his ghouls before he began to make his way toward the large doors of the abbey’s front entrance. The unsure footing and shaky gait that Copia bore minutes earlier had been traded for one of determined liveliness as he did so, looking not unlike the hundred times he strode on stage for a ritual as they performed for the masses.

This seemingly sudden switch- one that would be of no concern for anyone that knew Copia through his public appearance as Papa but was garishly out of character for his “off-duty-self”- was not lost on the ghouls. His out-of-pocket adoption of bravado sent a ripple of unease through the infernal beasts, a series of short chitters and (albeit goggle-clad) side-eye glances essentially asking one another: ‘ you seeing this shit too?’ were exchanged between the eight.

It only served to deepen Aether’s anxieties that the man they loved was trying to pull away. Nevertheless, the eight followed after their Papa, undeniably ready to conclude the day. Even if a sense of unease was boiling just below the surface.

Whether it was through luck, or the bizarre emptiness of the abbey’s front yard extending to that of the wing both the ghouls’ and Copia’s quarters resided, the group was mercifully granted a reprieve from receiving an audience while within the abbey’s walls. Only a single ghoul had crossed their path by the time they arrived at the entrance to the pack’s quarters, the passing individual offering merely a sidelong glance towards them.

Mountain, his tail still partially entwined with Cumulus’, fished a ring of keys from his pants pocket. The earth ghoul had been entrusted with them for he had the luxury of wearing black denim jeans as opposed to the laced pants the rest of them wore. “ Benefits of hiding behind a drum kit ”, as he had said. The others that crowded around him as he fiddled with the lock- the thing being particularly temperamental, thanks to the time Sunshine jammed a nail file and an unraveled paper clip into it, thinking she could avoid another lecture about forgetting her keys- filed in one after another once the door gave way to the common room, shedding parts of their uniforms before collapsing onto the various furniture.

All but Aether, Copia, and Mountain himself remained outside, the two ghouls looking at the man expectantly. Mountain still held the door ajar, as if silently urging them to follow inside, Aether, on the other hand, was not as subtle. Unbuckling his mask and shoving it under his arm, Aether hooked his thumb toward the entrance, a diluted expression of anxiety on his face. “Do you want to, uh, do you want to stay the night? With us?” He tacked on the last few words hurriedly as if it wasn’t already implied that Copia would be surrounded by his ghouls if he were to say yes, whether he wanted it or not.

Before he was able to give the quintessence ghoul an answer, scrabbling noises filled the brief pocket of silence as the six ghouls from within the common room, either lying draped over furniture or each other (save for a particular fire ghoul), abandoned their weariness- if only briefly- to perk up from where they rested to offer their pleas.

A ragged but hopeful chorus of “ please, papa ”, “ stay ”, and “ yeah, come on, please ” came from the group, many of them echoing one another’s words as they began to rise from their seats, likely to attempt to drag Copia inside.

It was Dewdrop who had reached the door first, having been the only one out of the six who had yet to truly sit down, unable to fully release himself from the stress of the day. Instead, he had chosen to hover a few yards from the entrance, his sectoral heterochromatic eyes of dark blue and a fiery orange boring into Copia as the three stood outside the threshold of the room with an almost unnerving intensity. The small fire ghoul stepped out from the doorway and stretched forward, grabbing onto their Papa’s hand with a startlingly firm grip.

His voice was hoarse, his vocal cords strained from his cursing and screaming earlier that day, so when he tugged on Copia’s arm, begging him to stay, it came out in a raspy whisper.

“ Please, Papa. Please stay with us .”

He sounded as if he was on the verge of tears again, and if the growing sheen in his eyes was anything to go by, he was.

Aether felt his own tears welling up in his eyes, once again overcome by the gravity of it all. He just wanted this night to be over. He wanted everyone to lie down in the common room and sleep. Please just let them stay together and sleep.

A sympathetic smile developed on Copia’s painted face as he covered Dewdrop’s hands with his free one and gave him a reassuring squeeze. He looked up from the fire ghoul, his eyes shifting between the rest of them, and offered the same smile.

“You all are too sweet to me, I don’t deserve you. I’ll come by later, I promise. I just want to get out of this outfit and clean up. You wouldn’t want my paint all over your things, would you?” He laughed at his attempt at a joke, the sound dry and discordant, a far cry from his usual- albeit sometimes meek, but nevertheless, authentic - chuckles and “ha-ha’s”. Mountain, with his mask now hanging limply from one hand and never the one to be good at hiding his thoughts, furrowed his brow in confusion at his excuse, though this went unnoticed (or perhaps, ignored) by Copia.

Though the odd change in Copia��s behavior and subsequently odder excuse for him to leave went unacknowledged as he departed from the ghouls’ wing of the abbey, the unsettling sound of his mirthless laugh echoed in the eight ghouls’ minds and sent a wave of new anxiety down their spines. Cold, electric surges built at the nape of their necks and traveled down to the tip of their tails, making their hair stand on end once again.

Something didn’t feel right.

They were inclined to leave well enough alone and afford him the privacy he was so often deprived of, but a nagging sense of unease made it feel nearly impossible to do so without a sense of dread growing within them.

As the five ghouls took their places in the common room once again, both Aether, Mountain, and Dewdrop lingered at the doorway a second longer to watch Copia turn and continue down a corridor to their left before doing the same.

“Tell me if I’m wrong and it's just my anxiety acting up, but Papa’s acting really freaking weird,” Cumulus said from within Cirrus’ arms, the taller ghoulette holding her close to her chest so that she could bury her face into her cloud-like hair.

There was a murmur of quiet agreement.

“I mean- we’ve still got time to figure something out. They're not going to do anything immediately, right? So we can all rest for tonight, at least, but with the way he’s acting, I’m not sure.”

There was another mutter of agreement, or, at least, consideration of her point, save for the mumbling from under their breath that came from Dewdrop. Something about “ I wouldn’t put it past the assholes ”, but Cumulus only heard half of it.

Sunshine, ever the optimist, perked up from where she halfway lay under Swiss, the larger multi-ghoul draping himself half on her and half on Rain. “Maybe we’ll have another chance! There’s other award shows coming up, so maybe that might change the Ministry’s mind if we win those!”

Dewdrop, who had been quietly seething the moment a hopeful outlook was mentioned- so much so that both Aether and Rain who sat next to him could feel heat radiating off of him in waves- finally exploded.

“CAN’T YOU SEE THAT THERE ARE NO MORE CHANCES?! WE’RE FUCKED! THERE’S NOTHING WE CAN DO! WHY CAN’T YOU GET IT THROUGH YOUR GODDAMN HEADS?!” he screeched, rising from his seat as he did, his tail thrashing violently behind him. His fury was meant for all of them, but it found an easy target in Sunshine, her words the most recent and her buttons so easy to push, making her the freshest and most perfect of fodder.

The other seven ghouls were taken aback by their pack mate’s sudden detonation, a few of them even jumping in their seats upon the start of Dewdrop’s screaming. It had seemed as if the fire ghoul still had smoldering coals of heated emotions from earlier that day and had only needed the energy and the (what was in his mind) naive hope of the others to reignite it.

Strangled hiccups that signaled the beginning of tears came from the multi-ghoulette, not understanding what she did that made her deserve such treatment. She hated it when people screamed angrily at her. Too many times had it happened over the littlest things in her time before she joined the Ghost project, and now she found that the minute it occurred, she would find herself transported back months, hell, even years, to the unsavory moments in her life that she always tried to forget. They- even Dewdrop, who explicitly and empathetically acknowledged the fact when she told him- knew this. So why , why would he scream at her ? Especially when all she was trying to do was be hopeful in a time that felt so bleak. She was just trying to help.

As the tears began to roll down Sunny’s face, her hands flew to clasp over her mouth, attempting to stifle her hitching breath. Swiss shifted off of Rain so that he sat in front of Sunshine, blocking the fire ghoul’s line of sight and subsequent focus on his target.

“Dude, what the fuck ?” he growled, his ears pinned flat and eerily white fangs bared, one hand reaching out to hold it protectively in front of the multi-ghoulette behind him.

With his concentration on Sunshine now broken and his mind reeling with emotions that made his rib cage feel as if it were about to break, Dewdrop’s eyes scanned over each of his packmates erratically, desperate to find someone who understood. He needed someone who would justify what he felt. Justify his explosiveness. Justify something , but when he was met only with weary or guarded stares, he suddenly felt as if he had been backed against a wall. Superheated feelings of what he interpreted as betrayal boiled inside his gut as hot tears and snot began to drip from his eyes and nose, catching in his mustache in a gross mixture, to which he wiped- or more so scrubbed- furiously from his face with the back of his sleeve.

Aether’s voice came steady and low, trying to avoid becoming another trigger for the fire ghoul, knowing all too well that his targeted hostility wasn’t true to how he felt outside of this moment of intensity.

“Dew, you’re having an episode. Go take some time to yourself, see if it helps, yeah?”

The fire ghoul’s body trembled where he stood, a mixture of red-hot rage and ice-cold dread overtaking every fiber of his being.

“ Fuck you, fuck all of you. You guys don’t fucking care what happens ,” he spat halfheartedly, his words wavering with the quiver of his chin. With another particularly aggressive swipe to his nose with his sleeve and a sniff, he stormed to his room, slamming the door behind him.

A moment of uncomfortable quiet fell on the remaining seven, with the exhalation of held breaths and the soft coos of Swiss’ voice as he helped Sunshine come down from her fit of tears the only sounds that managed to perforate the silence. However, if one were to listen closely, other sounds could be heard just faintly. Ones of stifled sobs and curses, bleeding from under Dewdrop’s door.

Leaning forward from where he sat on the couch so that his elbows rested on his knees, Aether put his face in his hands and let out a strained groan. It sounded as if he were one minor inconvenience away from utterly losing it, just one stain on his shirt or spilled drink away from tumbling over the edge. Then his resolve would break, and with it would come the tears. Ones that would ultimately leave him a blubbering mess that couldn’t seem to do anything right for his family. When Aether felt himself begin to reach that tearful precipice of no return as he began to mull over every little thing that had gone wrong that day, however, he felt a soft hand come to rest on his shoulder. While it did little besides lay against his clothed skin, its presence offered a sense of comfort he had craved since the day had started. It might have not been much- sort of like putting a bandaid on a bullet wound- but it was something.

The quintessence ghoul refrained from looking up despite the touch, instead opting to continue to smother his face within his hands and focusing on the tightness that was now starting to release its hold- if only slightly- on his chest. His sight wasn’t necessary for him to discern who it was anyways. By the touch alone, he could tell that it was Rain. What Aether could not tell though, was the look he wore on his face as he looked down at him. His eyes- circled by dark rings of tiredness- were half-lidded and soft, watching the bigger ghoul next to him with an understanding that most anyone outside of their pack could never even dream to have. Aether felt the drag of his rings and the gentle brush of the water ghoul’s cool fingers slide up and down his shoulder blade languidly, lulling him further into a calming state. He may not have been a quintessence ghoul, but he was good .

Rain’s voice was placid as it had been when comforting Dewdrop in the limousine earlier, offering not to comfort Aether but Sunshine now, knowing that the quintessence ghoul felt it as one of his responsibilities to keep the peace but had been clearly overwhelmed with it all.

“Sorry Dew lashed out like that, it’s sorta been a while since he has… He was doing so well too…” Rain paused to take a slow breath, with his exhale equally as slow, but forceful this time, the air exiting through his nose with an audible hiss. “I think today got to him.”

Sunshine, her tears subsiding thanks to Swiss’ comforts, sniffed loudly, rubbing at her red-rimmed eyes with the heels of her palms. Her voice had the smallest amount of a croak to it, her throat still congested from her crying.

“I-I know he doesn’t mean it, not after he comes out of it, a-at least,” Sunshine hiccuped. “But the yelling- he knows. He knows I can’t handle that. I just…” she trailed off as her lip began to tremble and tears once again threatened to spring to her golden eyes. “I just can’t think this was our last chance! I don’t want Papa to leave us!”

“None of us do, Sunbeam,” Swiss said, an almost startling somberness to his demeanor as he shifted to take Sunshine into his arms. With a tiredness that could only be described as oppressive taking over his limbs, Swiss let his body drape her back and rested his chin gently in the crook of her neck. A faint, wheezy purr (one that Cumulus always pointed out was probably due to the various ways he smoked) built ever so slowly in his throat. “Like Rainy said in the limo, I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”-

These were the last words that would hang in the air, hovering over the heads of each of the ghouls like a personal rain cloud as a blanket of silence descended on them once again.

—-

Seconds. Then minutes. Then the better part of an hour had passed. No matter how long the span of time between when they last saw Copia and now grew, there was still no sign of him.

While many of the ghouls couldn’t begin to tell how long it had been since he had departed from the entrance to their quarters, it had been long enough for each of them to slip into their rooms and trade their disheveled uniforms for something more comfortable ( properly comfortable , not naked- as the innuendo so often alluded to). However, perhaps operating on the nonsensical belief that if Copia were to arrive at their door and there was no one to receive him, they’d miss their chance and he’d be gone for good, the ghouls took turns slinking off to their rooms. One by one they went, with one ghoul going and returning, the common room reverting back to the stagnant silence that had befallen it when their earlier conversations ceased once the ghoul returned to where they sat. Only when the next ghoul- whoever decided that they would be next to go- got up and headed for their room, would the cycle start again.

All while there was still no sign of head nor (metaphorical) tail of their Papa as each of the ghouls took their turns to change, they still returned to the common room to wait in silence. It wasn’t until Aether returned from his room, the last one to trade out his clothes, that Mountain broke the silence. His first syllable cracked with a voice gravelly from disuse.

“D-did any of you find Papa’s reasons to leave to be a bit, I dunno-” He paused for a second, trying to find the best word to describe it, but settled on something simple when no other words would suffice. “ Weird ?” The earth ghoul shifted uncomfortably in the armchair he found himself in, the old leather creaking as he sat up from his slumped position. “I mean, s’not like he hasn’t washed up here before or borrowed clothes, though I’m sure there’s some of his lyin’ somewhere around here.”

“He might’ve wanted some time alone. He probably has a lot to think about and stuff to process,” Cirrus offered, her tendency to reserve her inner emotional turbulence to herself and herself alone, evident from her suggestion.

“But what about how he acted, like, overall ? Like I said earlier, even if he’s taking time for himself, what about that bizarre switch? First, he was all out of it and then suddenly acting all hunky-dory,” Cumulus said, still sitting with Cirrus, with her side pressed heavily into hers. She wiggled in place and made brisk, back-and-forth motions with her arms as if she were marching jovially, as though the gesture would help further get her point across.

Mountain, tilting his head as to look over his thick-rimmed glasses that sat low on his nose, pointed a lanky finger towards Cumulus briefly, as if to say “ exactly ”.

Aether sucked in a large breath of air as if he had just been unfrozen, the noise loud enough to startle some of the ghouls. It felt like the first deep breath he had taken in ages.

“I’ll go check on him,” he said, pushing himself up from the couch with a grunt, his weary body unwilling to return to a state of motion. He had been searching for an excuse to entertain his anxieties and go after Copia, and this would likely be the only chance he’d get. If it was squandered and found himself attempting it at a different time, he’d likely find himself facing prying questions. Questions he feared would cause the others to dissuade him from following the man, claiming he was being too overbearing, and that he needed to learn to let negative emotions sit and develop for once and not to try and fix everything. He was known to overstep, despite his best intentions, after all.

He needed a chance to rectify his failures. He just needed to fix this.

Before anyone could say otherwise, Aether made his way to the main door, borderline jogging to the exit, but made sure to grab his phone from where it lay on a nearby side table as he did.

Just as Cirrus began to shift from her seat, leaning forward as if she were about to get up and say something, Aether swung open the door and stepped out, but not before plucking a ring of keys from the mounted wall hooks. Whose they were he didn’t really care. As long as they had the key to their shared common room, it would suffice. It wasn’t like they locked their personal rooms anyways. He closed the door behind him, the frame rattling briefly with the nervous strength Aether accidentally imposed onto the door as he shut it. However, a second later, he opened it again, ducking his head into the common room to see the six haggard and mildly confused faces looking back at him. The whole scene would have been bordering on comical if it weren’t for the given circumstances.

“I’ll let you guys know what’s going on once I know, kay?” He said, waving his phone back and forth in an upheld hand as if the others couldn’t guess the method by which he would contact them. “An’ check up on Dew in a bit for me, please? I want to make sure he’s doing alright after cooling down- if he has by then.”

Swiss, untangling an arm from around Sunshine (whom he found himself wrapped around again), gave him a lethargic thumbs up and accompanying half-smile.

“Got it, big guy. We’ll text you.”

“Thanks.”

Closing the door once again, Aether felt a chill dance down his back, finding its way into his arms and hands, a cold, tingling pain culminating in his palms.

Time to find Papa .

----

His body had gone numb, his limbs and mouth acting of their own accord the minute the winner’s name left the announcer’s lips. Everything felt like a dream- or, more accurately, a nightmare. With his head swimming and mind buzzing as they left the venue and made their drive back home ( was it really home though? ), his world distorted and blurred. It was as if he were looking through a fishbowl filled with silt-emulsified water.

His legs felt weak and muscleless like they couldn’t possibly bear his weight upon exiting the limo, but they somehow had. This feat he hadn’t thought himself capable of held his meager focus until he found himself beginning to fall, though his legs managed to stay underneath him once again. It wasn’t until he took in the faces of his ghouls as they all stood there- his attention drawn by the bark of Aether’s name- that he found an ounce of true, in-the-present consciousness within himself, just enough to recognize the look of sickening worry and fear that the creatures he loved so dearly held for him. Just enough to want- no- need to try and placate that fear and worry, albeit in his own uncanny and avoidant way.

The numbness had persisted as he made his disingenuous promise that he would come back to the ghouls once he had changed clothes, and it continued to persist as he tried to find somewhere private he could think.

He had tried the bone-chilling mausoleum- the wing of the abbey in cruel proximity to his room and more private than his own room, which had been an equally cruel fact- that held the preserved bodies of his brothers and father. They still looked as they had when he had last seen them in their caskets years ago, never having the wherewithal to expose himself to the sight of their forms lying dead since then. And they would continue to look the same probably long after he would be added to the display, until the expert embalming wore off, at least.

While the numbness that filled his body and mind was able to dampen the shock that came with seeing them (save for Nihil, he saw enough of the bastard in his ghost form and on stage) in their glass coffins, it could not deaden the perpetual sensation of eyes boring into every inch of his body as he stood there in the faint candlelight. Whether the eyes belonged to his brothers- ones he would assume were glaring with distaste or disdain, thanks to the unfavorable way in which the relationship he had held with them had left off, thanks to their untimely demise, or said demise in general- Nihil, or some other inconspicuous damned souls and beasts was not something he could withstand the feeling long enough to find out. Anyways, the sight of the four deceased Papas was too direct of a confrontation of his situation, even if the topic of his mortality and the things to come was the topic of his thoughts that he so desperately sought a place peaceful enough for him to consider.

The numbing wave of dissociation had begun to lose its hold on Copia as he found himself walking down the corridor to his room, his world beginning to fall in on him ever so slowly like a collapsing bridge, its cables fraying and snapping one by one until it all came crashing down.

He had resigned himself to accepting that the best place he could afford himself privacy was his room, despite it being the first place Sister Imperator would look for him and her ownership of the copy of the key to the singular lock on the door (a fact that she would remind him of far too often for him to recall). Though, he at least had a door this time. Maybe he could barricade it with something heavy like the sofa, but that’s assuming he’d be able to move it, and that Sister wouldn’t employ some ghoul to overpower the blockage and break through.

Beginning to exhaust his options through the consideration of outcomes as he neared his room, his thoughts began to turn to the very topics he was trying to find somewhere to deliberate over in the first place. His mind, ever exhausted in its efforts from years of events and emotions (many largely negative) that his words could not begin to hope to convey, jumped to the bleak place that it so often sprung towards in times when everything seemed too hard and nothing he did was ever enough. An urge that had been lurking under the surface since they had left their seats at the venue, only occluded by the protective shroud that years of turmoil allowed him to employ.

It was an option. More of an option than he’d been given any time before, and it was one that he found something deep within himself wanting to entertain- to an extent, at the very least.

---

Copia, after visiting his room and putting the essentials in order as a precaution, found himself on the lip of what was virtually the only accessible and flat roof of the abbey, the final shard of protection that his dissociative state had offered gone, and the weight of everything, absolutely everything , crashing in on him.

The nightmare that had begun when those words- those few meager words- rang through the speakers on stage had become real. And with it, his hopes, his dreams, the measly chance he had had at being seen as something more than a screw up- maybe even the chance of saving himself- died, becoming a metaphorical tomb and sealing his fate. Even if there were a few more music videos, a few more shows, a few more tours, a few more whatevers - it was over. He was done for. He had known his time was coming soon if he failed to find a way to circumvent his fate, and yet, it was no easier to accept now that it was set in stone. The Ministry would be coming for him and there was little he could do to change that.

Maybe it would have been better if he were blissfully ignorant, unaware of what awaited him at the end of the road, but how could he have been? Despite how dumb and oblivious people thought him to be, despite how dumb and oblivious he believed himself to be, it was impossible to miss. He had been doomed the minute he had accepted the position of frontman for Ghost and he had been doomed the minute he ascended from Cardinal to Papa. Perhaps- he thought to the white iris that lay within his left eye, a gloved hand coming up to wipe at the smudged makeup beneath it- he had been doomed since birth. He was a part of the Emeritus bloodline, of course. It was a status originally seen as a blessing, though now, through malignant transformation brought on by the very people the bloodline was instructed to represent, it had become a curse. One that promised a life that was not truly yours and an untimely, possibly violent, end.

Just the thought of dying at the hand of the Ministry made his blood run cold. Ice filled his veins, sending a nauseating chill through his body, one that ultimately settled itself deep within his limbs and spine, his mind’s ability to sequester himself from reality no longer able to shield him from the visceral feelings that filled his chest when he thought back the deaths that befell his brothers.

His brothers, oh, Lucifer, his brothers. The sight of the three, laying in false serenity in their eternal glass casket home resurfaced, the scene striking him with full force now. Why did it have to end on such a sour note? Why couldn’t he have been nicer? Why couldn’t he have gotten over himself and stopped acting like a goddamn child, jealous of his siblings because they got what he had thought he wanted. Satanas, Terzo had died thinking he hated him because he couldn’t control how much he envied him.

Dear Lord, Terzo-

The image of the third Emeritus son’s severed head in his hands wormed its way into his mind’s eye and with it, rose the bile in his throat. The very thought of it- a memory that he had shoved down, far into the recesses of his mind as it could go- transported him back to that very moment with the macabre sensations that came with it very much intact. The sickening sensation of what was left of his brother’s cold and clotted blood pooling in his gloved hands ghosted the skin of his palms. The dark, gelatinous globs slipping through his fingers sluggishly, then landing on the unforgiving marble floor with a sickening plap . The only coherent thought that had filled his mind back then (besides the nonsensical abject horror that made his brain feel as though it were composed of T.V. static) was how deceptively heavy the human head was.

It had been years since that photo shoot, but those thoughts had yet to fail to bring him back to that moment- the horror, the grief, the guilt- fresh as the day it happened. He could almost feel the weight of the head- all five kilograms of it- in his hands right then.

The overwhelming urge to vomit and the subsequent vertigo that came with it flooded his system, causing him to begin to retch. As he gagged, a particularly strong dry heave overtook his body, causing him to sway from where he sat, his body wanting to follow the weight of his legs that dangled over the lip of stone. His hands shot behind him, scrambling to grab the other side. A terror-inducing fraction of a second passed before his fingers finally found purchase, anchoring themselves to the stone and steadying his center of gravity. He swallowed the urge to dry heave once more.

Not yet. He still needed to think.

Maybe he deserved it, that possibility of a brutal death. Maybe that’s what his choices and his failures had earned him. His brothers’ deaths had been his fault after all. Even if Sister Imperator had sanctioned the order, he was the one who wanted to be Papa. He had wanted it from such a young age, ever since Sister had told him about the position, saying that she could see him becoming Papa and even hoped to see him take up the role. So, by him wanting this , he was the reason they were dead because it had been all for him- right? All in order for Sister Imperator’s little boy to become Papa and lead the Ministry to even greater heights. Or that was the plan, but, as one of Nihil’s favorite things to point out (and it stung just to admit the dickhead made a point) he had failed to do that too, time and time again.

He wiped the burgeoning tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, black and white paint smearing gray into the dark fabric. Oh, how he knew how he would be yelled at for ruining such an expensive outfit with his makeup and tears.

Yes, maybe he deserved that kind of death, but willingly subject himself to the Ministry’s mercy? He wasn’t sure he could. He was a coward at heart, after all. He’d likely sooner find himself trying to flee, but ultimately become cornered by a pack of ravenous ghouls, sent for retribution. He would plead and cry for mercy as he pissed himself in terror like the pathetic little boy he was before their terrible claws and fangs would sink into his flesh, ripping him apart.

There was always the option he could take things into his own hands. That’s what he had gone up there to consider, right? To finally listen to that little voice in the back of his head that so often told him to give in. Ultimately, the result would be the same, just kinder, sparing himself the cruelty and humiliation that the Ministry likely had in store for him. He was tired anyways.

Engrossed by the ever-multiplying swarm of thoughts as he considered his options, the mere feeling of existence as they ran rampant in his brain becoming so overwhelming that it made his crawl, Copia missed the warbling creak of the rooftop hatch pushing open and the stocky ghoul that clamored through it. It wasn’t until he spoke that Copia was pulled from this state, his body jolting slightly in shock, threatening to pitch him over the edge once again. Thankfully, his hands flew to steady himself as they had before, preventing his second almost-premature-plummet of the night.

“ You’re way too close to that ledge there for me to be comfortable, Papa ,” Aether said through a stilted chuckle as he began to inch toward the man. A thin layer of humor coated his words as if he hoped that the scene he had happened upon was just a product of bad timing- and maybe it partly was- but in reality, it was to obscure the obvious tremble of his voice.

He was scared. He was so fucking scared, and Copia wasn’t oblivious to it. He knew how this looked, what it implied. He knew what Aether thought was going to happen (and maybe it would). But, as much as Copia longed for comfort from Aether, something stoney that had planted itself within his core so many years ago as a way of self-preservation, reared its head once again, the desire to cut ties with any person that so much as hinted at caring about him quickly mounting.

He knew Sister and Nihil didn’t concern themselves with his well-being, no matter how many times he had attempted to change that. From an early age, that had been clear to him, even if he had tried to deny it. But his ghouls, his beloved ghouls, they cared about him. He knew that for a fact. They cared so deeply for him that it hurt. It was a vile and sickening ache that sat in his chest and spread to his limbs, creating the overwhelming urge to peel away his skin in a desperate attempt to escape the disgust that rose inside him like the bile in his throat. It didn’t have much to do with the idea of being vulnerable- that was something he had little trouble being. If anything, he was too vulnerable, too quick to open himself up and lay down his heart to anyone who so much as offered him an ounce of kindness, leaving him defenseless against anyone who chose to use it against him. No, it was the fact that to these people- these ghouls - who loved him so wholly, so rawly, all he could be was a burden. An anxious and awkward mess who screwed up things more often than he seemed to get them right, and yet, they still loved him. It wasn’t fair. He loved them too much to accept taking all that he did while providing them with so little.

Copia’s hands rose to the sides of his head, the heels of his palms hitting there repeatedly as a sound somewhere between anguish and aggravation made its way through his gritted teeth. Everything was too much. His skin was buzzing with electric, searing heat and his head felt as if it was about to burst, but he didn’t want to put Aether through this. The quintessence ghoul didn’t deserve to absorb how he felt. He didn’t deserve to have to deal with him.

“I’m fine, Aether. Pl-please just go back to the others. I’m okay, I just need to think,” he gasped, pleading from between each impact his palms made against his skull, desperate to convince the ghoul to leave and spare himself from the embarrassment that was his Papa. Copia knew deep down that it was a shit lie, however, and the quintessence ghoul would see right through it.

“Bull shite you’re fine, and you can bet your ass I’m not going anywhere. Now get down from that fuckin’ ledge,” he growled, lunging towards Copia.

Before he could find the ability to react, the ghoul was on him, a clawed hand clamping around his wrist while the other grabbed a handful of the collar of his dark jacket. The sudden and almost unheard-of harshness from Aether startled him into limp submission, allowing himself to be dragged off his perch like a ragdoll and promptly falling on his ass as he dropped to the roof’s flat base.

With his wits returning to him, Copia scrambled on his hands and knees in a fruitless attempt to put distance between him and Aether. A primal sense of fear manifested within him, coiling throughout his body as he looked up at the formidable creature, the panic flooding his brain making Aether unrecognizable as anything other than a threat. Through pleas for mercy and strings of “no’s” that spilled from his mouth as he gave up on his unsuccessful creation of space between himself and the ghoul, Copia brought his legs to his chest and buried his face into his knees. The sickening image of the scenario he had imagined not long ago, where a horde of ghouls was sent to slaughter him at the order of the Ministry consumed his mind, convincing him that as this monster stared down at him with its shining eyes, it was plotting the best way to make the kill.

A sliver of him still recognized Aether as the kind and gentle ghoul he truly was in this fight-or-flight state and it was this part of him that fought against his uncontrolled panic, his rational (although it truly was far from that at this very moment) and the primitive parts of his brain vying for dominance. However, as the fear began to ebb away, it gave way to shame.

Unable to withstand the feeling of so much with so little ability to process it, he curled in on himself as tightly as his body would allow and began to rock back and forth in a desperate effort to self-regulate.

In this undoubtedly preoccupied state, Copia failed to notice the look of horror that had developed on Aether’s face the moment the man had reacted in such terror. What he could only describe as a hellish mixture of abject shame and self-loathing flooded his system. All energy he had left inside himself imploded, like that of a collapsing black hole, dropping him to his knees.

“Shit. Fuck. Papa- Papa, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“ he all but wept, reaching out a shaking hand towards the man, but retracting it upon second consideration. Instead, he sat, no less than a few feet between them, and watched Copia with eyes filled with apprehensive concern. He wanted to help. He was desperate to help and make things right but look at where that had gotten them. Unsure in his abilities more than ever, Aether hesitated to call upon his quintessence, fearful that his powers would only accomplish setting him off even further.

Mercifully, however, given some time, Copia’s self-soothing attempts began to work just enough to allow him to return to a state just outside the realm of utter meltdown.

The primal, unfounded fear that Aether’s sudden lunge sparked within him was gone, but the creeping tendrils of his chagrin that claimed any amount of space within his brain that had been surrendered by his panic began to consume him from the inside out, once again souring the mere presence of one of his beloved ghouls. On better days, the close proximity of the quintessence ghoul to himself would have offered Copia a semblance, his presence and magic acting as an anchor for his mind that was often lost within a raging storm, but today was not a better day. This time, it only brought guilt and shame.

While he was not like Sister Imperator and Nihil, treating the ghouls as though the hellbeasts were merely hired help and seated far beneath them, the fragile state that Copia found himself in had him putting far too much importance on what they would have thought about the scene.

If only they could see him now. A Papa, scared of one of his own ghouls to the point of breaking down, allowing them to order him around and to manhandle him like a disobedient child. What a joke. He was supposed to be a leader, but in reality, he was more of a mouse than a man, incapable of standing his ground.

Copia shifted away from Aether as far as his balled-up position would allow, trying to escape the searing burn of the ghoul’s steel-colored eyes against his skin. His irises undoubtedly glowed a faint but gorgeous white in the darkness of the night, not unlike the full moon that hung above their heads. It was something Copia would have relished given almost any other circumstance- Aether, like his other ghouls, being so beautiful as if he were made in the image of Lucifer himself. All he found himself able to do, however, was shrink away from the ghoul, his body trembling like a leaf.

What felt like an eternity inched by as the two sat like this, the silence breaking only once the sensation of the quintessence ghoul’s celestial-like eyes had become unbearable. Turning his head to the side just enough that he could glimpse the blurry figure of Aether out of his right eye, Copia spoke in a quiet voice, his words broken by the lump that rose in his throat.

“I wasn’t going to kill myself.”

While it wasn’t a bald-faced lie, he hadn’t gone to the roof with the single mission to walk off of it and end his life, it wasn’t the complete truth either. He was there to give himself a semblance of control, an option in his otherwise option-less life. There was no commitment to a singular path just yet, he had to consider his choices. This just so happened to be one and a damn convenient time to do so.

Though the ghoul had said nothing (truthfully having nothing he could say that would help in his mind) he reached out a hesitant hand once more at this. It hovered half way between them, jerking forward ever so slightly in aborted half-attempts at bridging the space between him and Copia as Aether searched for any signs of fear or objection. When there was none, the man remaining unresponsive to the movement, Aether continued his push, hesitating and hovering (if only for a second) his hand over Copia’s back before allowing it to rest against him.

The pressure was firm but tender, a common staple of the ghoul’s own brand of physical affection and something Copia had come to revere and crave after having endured years of deprivation of anything remotely close to it. He fought desperately against his carnal need for comfort, something he had only truly become accustomed to in adulthood through his relationships with his ghouls, and in brief moments in his childhood, through his brothers.

The desire to lean wholly into Aether and cry until his throat was raw and could no longer produce tears was growing at a breakneck pace. Why did he have to make it so hard? The ghouls had already done too much for him, especially Aether. He was pathetic to need this, to require his ghouls of all people to offer him solace in a time where he should have succeeded in the first place. His brothers hadn’t been like this with theirs, so why was he?

All while Copia continued to struggle within himself, Aether’s clawed hand began to rub circles against his back, expertly working at breaking down the already crumbling barrier that his Papa had put up between them with gentle determination, his quintessence admittedly aiding in making the man more pliant. The ghoul knew when Copia’s damaged resolve broke when tears began to spill down his cheeks.

In a last-ditch attempt to feign composure, Copia tried to wipe away his rapidly falling tears with the heels of his hands, though he only accomplished further mixing the remains of his Papal paint together.

“I don’t want to die, I, I-I’m just-” Copia said through increasing amounts of hitches in his breath.

This fragment of a statement wasn’t entirely the truth. Admittedly, there had been many a time when he wouldn’t have agreed with the sentiment of his words. Whether it was an outright wish for death or just the desire to stop existing, that nagging urge- the very one that had brought him up there- had been something that had been prevalent for most of his life, and he’d be lying even more if he said it hadn’t gotten worse since his ascension. It pounded at the forefront of his brain, screaming, ear-splittingly loud, for him to give in. To give up. It was all he wanted to do. He was tired. He was so fucking tired and beaten down, and all he wanted was for it to stop.

It was when the hitches in his breath came to a crescendo, his spilling tears threatening to turn into loud, wailing sobs, that Aether threw his cautionary approach to the wind, bringing his clawed hand away from his Papa’s shoulder to wrap around the man’s curved waist and pull him into a tight embrace. Copia’s head lay buried into Aether’s chest, his body still curled tightly around himself, as the ghoul squeezed him within his arms as much as his human body could safely withstand, knowing that deep pressure had always helped ground the man.

However, in this circumstance, all it accomplished was push Copia over the precipice that he had been trying to steer away from so frantically. He gave in. Not to the thoughts and urges that had brought him to the moon-bathed rooftop, but to Aether’s unyielding compassion. Abandoning his train of thought and leaving his sentence unfinished, Copia returned Aether’s vice-like embrace with desperate strength, his gloved hands digging into the small of the ghoul’s back as full, gut-wrenching sobs spilled from his lungs.

Through his own quiet tears, Aether looked down at the man he held in his arms and pressed his lips to the crown of his head, leaving them there as he brought a hand to the back of Copia’s head, pressing him further against his broad chest. Rocking gently in place together, Aether coaxed the tears from him little by little, pressing kisses to the top of Copia’s head all the while, until his wails became soft, hiccuping breaths, and his iron grip around the ghoul’s torso merely became where he rested his arms.

Shifting as to look up into the quintessence ghoul’s metallic eyes, the color more of a clouded pewter now that a shadow cast over his face, Copia blinked the remaining wetness from his reddened eyes and mumbled his thanks, his voice thick and hoarse.

“Of course,” Aether murmured back, threading the graying strands of hair that lay stuck to Copia’s face, thanks to his sweat, through his fingers, smoothing them back into place. There was a moment of silence as they sat like this, looking tired but gratefully into each other’s eyes, until Aether broke the silence with a question, though he was still hesitant on whether he truly wanted the answer. “Can, uh, can I ask you a question?”

“Hm?”

“What were you up here for, like, really ?”

Copia’s gaze returned to chest level, his eyes looking off nowhere in particular. “I-” he started, pausing for what felt like ages as he deliberated what he would say. “I don’t wanna lie to you, I was considering it, er, uh, jumping .” He cleared his throat, his voice a fraction less occluded. “I, eh, had been since we got back. Not seriously though, or, well- ah fuck,” he sighed with frustration, failing at trying to convey the intentions he had just a bit ago. “I thought about it but wasn’t gonna do anything initially. I was trying to find a place to be alone but couldn’t and then, poof , I was on the roof.”

One of Copia’s arms had drawn back from hanging around Aether’s waist, his finger now drawing absent-minded circles on the ghoul’s chest.

“What about your room? Everythin’ was all laid out.”

“Precautionary action.”

“Is that why you didn’t stay with us and were acting all… odd ?”

“Suppose my acting wasn’t the best.” Copia gave a dry chuckle but it died quickly. ”But, eh, yes and no. I just didn’t want to be a burden or worry you guys, with how much of a mess I caused at the Grammys. But it worked in favor of, uh,” he raised an eyebrow briefly as if gesturing to the end of the roof, “yeah.” Pausing for a second to take a deep breath in, Copia opened his mouth to continue but was interrupted abruptly.

“That wasn’t your fault. If anything, that was on me. I was suppose’ta keep everythin’ in order but I fucked it up. I froze,” he confessed almost readily. The muscles in Aether’s jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth together tight enough that he could feel his gold tooth creak, fighting against pinprick tears of shame that rose to his eyes. “I couldn’t keep things under control, I couldn’t help Dew- I couldn’t even stop Dew- and now there’s a rift between him and Sunny… And I couldn’t even help you and that’s part of why I was summoned in the first place! ‘To protect the Papa you’re assigned to’.” He said as if rattling off a piece of legislation. “But I just made it worse! Fuck , I scared you so badly you looked like you thought I was going to kill you! Fuckin’ kill you ! And if I couldn't help you today without fuckin’ it up, what makes me able to protect you when it comes down to it? I saw what happened to Terzo. I can’t-”

It was Aether’s turn to expose his vulnerable underbelly, pleading guilty to his self-proclaimed sins in the presence of the one he felt he wronged the most. He took a great, shuddering breath, his gaze now torn away from the man leaning against his chest in an effort to obscure his view of his glossy eyes.

Copia shifted where he sat so that his head rested against the quintessence ghoul’s shoulder instead of his chest and brought the hand that had been absentmindedly drawing shapes to the side of Aether’s face. His fingers ran against the black sideburns that grew down the length of the ghoul’s taut jaw, his mismatched eyes gazing at the ghoul’s features with the softest expression. Even if Copia couldn’t see the tears brimming in Aether’s eyes from the position he sat in, he could see the shades of mulberry on his mole-speckled cheeks, growing steadily the longer he tried to fight off tears. Tracing the sideburn up his jawline to the side of his head, Copia carded his fingers through the ghoul’s hair, its texture almost fur-like and surprisingly soft. He continued to move his hand through Aether’s hair, following the natural curve of his head, only to stop just behind his ear. They were somewhat small for a ghoul, his ears a relatively short length- even with their pointed tips- but they still bore an array of piercings, with gauges adorning his earlobes and a variety of hoops along the rest of it.

Copia’s fingers reached the base of his ear, right where the shell met his skull, and began to scratch lightly with a particular knowing behind his deft movements. Within seconds, the ghoul’s head leaned heavily into his hand, like a dog would if you scratched an itch just right, with a very faint, somewhat broken, purr rumbling in his throat. A small smile spread across Copia’s lips as he watched this formidable ghoul (though he had the personality of a large, overly friendly dog) melt into his touch, the tears that he fought so hard to contain now beginning to dry. He continued to scratch as he trailed his hand back down Aether’s jaw, stopping at his chin. With a delicate hold on his face, Copia brought the ghoul’s gaze down to meet his.

“You did your best. That’s all I could ask for.”

Aether was quiet for a second, his expression dark as if considering something troubling. Then he spoke, his voice low, bordering on a whisper.

“Sorry for being rough with ya’. I know it’s no excuse for it, but I was so scared . I couldn’t think and I just-” He lifted up a hand to mimic grabbing Copia’s wrist.

“It’s okay.”

“But-”

“ Orsacchiotto , I promise you, it is okay,” Copia said, a firmness in his voice that told Aether he wasn’t willing to argue on the matter. In most other situations, Aether, being someone who had to be liked by everyone, would have continued to loathe himself and fixate on what he did wrong- the hardened tone that the usually soft-spoken man developed only exacerbated the issue, no matter how much Copia tried to dispel the idea that he was angry with Aether- if it wasn’t for that pet name.

Orsacchiotto . Big bear .

It was a name he had only heard Copia say with the utmost adoration, and, despite the exhaustion, despite his steadfast opposition to Aether’s objections, that remained true.

Still giddy after all these years, the special name that Copia had just for him never failed to bring a smile to his face.

“I thought I was the one who was suppose’ta be comfortin’ you,” he said with a halfhearted snort.

“Ah, don’t give me that bullshit. Group effort, go team” Copia said with a playful smack of his hand to Aether’s chest.

The ghoul belted out a deep, hardy laugh, his entire upper body shaking with the noise. It was good to hear that laugh again. The sound was as boisterous as Aether and a representation of him as a whole as if one were to boil him down to an essence so that only the quintessential parts of his being remained. A large, albeit tired, smile spread to Copia’s face at this, the sound of his ghoul’s laugh herding the harsh events of the day that plagued his mind into a place for later. Somewhere they can pick up when he is ready.

“Suppose you’re right,” he said, his laugh dying down though his amusement was still audible in his voice. “Suppose Rain was right too, we’ll figure somethin’ out. Not tonight though.” Aether leaned his head to the side so that it rested against Copia’s, the purr that had started up in his throat spreading to his chest, reverberating loud and clear. “Tonight-“ he was interrupted by a yawn, “tonight, we focus on sleep.”

Copia hummed, his eyes closed and face lax. Not for the removed and dissociative state of his mind, but from genuine, honest to Lucifer, serenity. Things were likely to get even rockier in the future, but tonight- tonight - was for this. He only wished the other seven were here with them.

“Sounds perfect.”

----

What time it had been when he and Aether finally descended from the roof of the abbey and back into the living quarters completely eluded Copia. All he knew, as he now stood nude in front of the porcelain bathtub, his posture hunched and arms crossed tightly over his chest as he watched the steam begin to billow from the rising water, was that his bones ached and he was utterly exhausted.

Hearing the sound of the sink faucet’s water stream join the drone of the filling tub, Copia lazily looked over his shoulder. Behind him stood Aether, equally naked, as he ran a washcloth underneath the water. The view of his soft yet well-muscled frame, while he busied himself with soaking the cloth, was something Copia drank in gratefully, even if it was a sight he had seen many times before.

Crossing the admittedly small distance between them, Aether caressed Copia’s jaw with a large hand. The ghoul’s claws pressed ever so lightly into the flesh of his cheek as he began to wipe away the long ruined makeup on his face. His eyelids fluttered closed as Aether continued to rid his skin of the black, white, and gray paint smeared on his face, the freckles that dotted so much of his face and body becoming more visible with every drag of the washcloth. Once he had deemed his job adequate enough, Aether tossed the irreparably stained washcloth onto the sink counter, making a wet plap as it landed, and returned his attention to the man in front of him. Copia began to make a mental note to move the cloth into the sink later so as to not cause any undue mess, but his mind was quickly pulled from the thought as Aether’s arms wrapped around his torso, pulling his body into his. A small sigh escaped his lips as Aether pressed a line of kisses down his neck and onto his shoulder, focusing on the spots where his freckles gathered most. They had always been a feature of his that his ghouls adored, and Aether was no exception.

One of the ghoul’s short, dark horns dragged slowly against Copia’s scalp as Aether angled his head to make his way further down his shoulder, all while the ghoul’s spaded tail began to creep up and around his calf. The sensation would have been enough to elicit a moan from him if it weren’t for the overwhelming fatigue that had spread so virulently through his body and brain. Instead, he rested his head in the crook of the ghoul’s neck and basked in the feeling of Aether’s body against his own, one of the few reliable presences he had amidst a never-ending sea of change and surprise.

A few minutes had passed as Copia relished the tenderness in which the large ghoul held him, completely lost in the sensation of it all, until Aether began to unwrap his arm from his body. A weak whine came from within Copia’s throat as Aether pulled away, his hands trying to cling to his body weakly. However, his disappointment was quickly assuaged by the promise that it wouldn’t be long until he could resume his place in Aether’s arms, the ghoul leading him to the bathtub that was now nearly full.

Aether turned off the faucet and stepped into the tub, the water rippling in almost mesmerizing patterns as he sat and sank further in. With an outstretched hand, he beckoned Copia to join him.

Taking the extended hand in his own, Copia climbed into the tub and sat down, his body wiggling its way between Aether’s legs so that his back could rest against the ghoul’s broad torso. Big, well-muscled arms made their way around him again, drawing him further into the ghoul’s embrace as far as their bodies would allow. In another circumstance, the awkward and tight fit of two bodies inside the just-above-average-sized tub would be uncomfortable, aggravating even, but Copia found himself grateful at that moment because the size of the bath only pushed them closer together.

Another sigh escaped from Copia’s lips as his head fell back onto Aether’s chest, the tension in his muscles finally releasing as waves of warmth made their way up his body. A deep, rhythmic rumble, almost like a purr, resonated against Copia’s back.

The two sat there, breathing in the soothing steam, for as long as the temperature of the water held, only beginning to stir once almost unbearably hot became just hot.

---

The bed- or more so, the mattress, given it was completely devoid of a bed frame- was smaller than Aether had remembered. Maybe it was his mind, utterly wiped of most of its logical abilities beyond basic thought, unable to recall such a memory, or maybe he really had been putting on some weight (despite the others saying he was as fit as ever, though he’d still look great if he had). Either way, the twin-sized mattress, adorned only with a royal blue comforter, matching sheets, and a handful of pillows barely fit both him and the man whom the measly thing belonged to. Even as Copia lay wrapped in his embrace, his body pressed up against the ghoul’s as far as humanly (and inhumanly) possible, Aether found parts of him hanging off the edge of the bed, one wrong shift potentially sending him or them both to the ground.

But his Papa was safe for tonight, asleep in his arms and dressed in far softer clothes, snoring quietly into his chest, and no amount of mattress (or lack thereof) could ruin the tired relief that he felt because of it.

Right as Aether felt as if he could no longer fight the heaviness of his eyes, having been determined to stave off sleep for just a little longer, just long enough for him to enjoy a few more minutes of this moment, he heard a vibrating buzz somewhere near his head. Removing an arm from around Copia- who, barely disturbed, uttered only a brief groan and buried himself further under the covers- Aether patted around lightly for the stupid thing, only finding it when, after a particular shift of his arm, he heard a solid thump off the side of the bed.

Craning his neck so that he could just barely see over the edge of the mattress, Aether saw the screen of his phone, alight with the notification of a message sent from Swiss.

Oh, grabbing this was gonna suck.

Aether shifted just enough to let his arm hang free from the bed and fished somewhat blindly for the phone, the muscles in his arm giving a burning protest as he did. Just as it felt as if the muscles were on the brink of tearing in two, his fingers mercifully wrapped around the phone and he was able to bring the damn thing up to his face. Fumbling his passcode a few times (the string of characters proving somewhat difficult to type with a single thumb, but there was no way in hell he’d leave his phone unprotected, making it a free for all for the troublemakers and pranksters of the pack), he swiped through to see the message from Swiss. It had been a brief text, accompanied by a photo.

Guess who made up, it had said, the picture of Dewdrop and Sunshine, laying together on the largest of the couches, their limbs tangled around one another’s to the point that it was hard to tell which belonged to who.

A wash of relief spread over Aether, freeing him from the growing hold that nausea held deep within the pit of his stomach. It had grown faint, borderline ignorable since he had started his mission to find Copia with the feeling of unease over the disharmony between his packmates taking a backseat to the issue of their Papa’s odd behavior. It was only as they lay in the twin-sized bed did it start to quietly build once again, just below the surface.

But it had turned out okay. Dew and Sunny were okay.

As Aether began to type his response of relief, he remembered the promise he had made to the others and snapped a quick photo of himself with Copia wedged against him. Adding the brief caption “Papa’s safe” to his message, Aether sent the text, though, with a moment- albeit tired- thought, he sent another text.

You guys can come over. Better not wake him up tho

It hadn’t been more than five minutes before ghouls started to trickle in, each with their own makeshift bedding, either in their arms or dragging behind them. Some stumbled in, bleary-eyed and yawning, while others took to trying to be silent with the utmost seriousness, either way, Copia remained fast asleep as they each took their spots around or on the small mattress.

By the time everyone had settled, a chorus of purrs filled the room, creating a rumbling blanket of sound, one to soothe even the most anxious of hearts. Even with the odd snoring or mumbling, the moment was utterly serene.

No longer fighting the overwhelming waves of exhaustion that the radiating body heat of his packmates only emphasized, Aether’s body relaxed, fully and truly for what felt like the first time in ages. His eyelids began to droop once again as he listened to the noises of his family- ghoul and human alike- until he was lulled into sleep.

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kiwibeanv · 4 months

Text

Astray in the Black Water: Post-Chapter 2 ->Dazai

Fatal Frame 5 x Bungo Stray Dogs x fem reader.

You turned to see Dazai behind you and Atsushi. Both of you moved to get his hands off.

"Just photos that (Last Name)-san took," Atsushi replied dusting his shoulder off.

"Ooh, let me see!"

You scrolled through the photos you had. The captured traces of Kyouka and the photos of the spirits you fought against. Dazai's eyes light up when he sees the one in the cable car.

"Ooh! Wait go back one!"

Returning to the previous photo, there was the spirit in the center of the frame. In the background however, there was Kunikida huddled with Atsushi at the back of the cable car. Dazai's face was half captured as he looked shocked. Dazai snickered.

"I like this one very much. You printing them all right?" He smirked.

"Um, yes? I was asked to print them all," you replied.

"Oh good," he rubbed his hands together. "We do need every single capture you took."

Atsushi narrowed his eyes at Dazai. "You're just getting the photos of us being spooked."

"Maybe~" His gaze was especially fixated on Kunikida's horrified expression. "Wish we had a photo of you though," he said looking at you.

"Another time," you sighed. "Anyways, this should be all of the photos to be printed. Go ahead and print."

Atsushi selected the print button and the printer began its work. He went off to catch up on errands.

As for you, this is a good chance to see if you can peek into Dazai's past. You know he will openly accept any touches from you and he might call you out on it. But again, you don't want to make it obvious you're trying to get a glance.

"So... Dazai-san," you got a little close and put your hand on his arm. "All these spirits haven't...disturbed you yet?"

You tried to probe into his past but nothing was working. No vision, no voices, not even sensing anything.

Dazai's expression gleamed at your touch. "A little, yes? I never really believed in ghosts."

"Is it really 'a little'?" You asked, squeezing his arm to try again. But nothing still.

"Gotta say this is the first time I saw a ghost face to face. But they don't look that bad. The shrine maidens especially."

Your grip loosened. "And how would you describe them?"

"Kinda pretty actually!"

"Oh... okay then." You let go of his arm, disappointed you couldn't see into his past. There was something about this man that was so strange.

"Jealous much? I bet you'd look gorgeous in those robes," he leaned in close with a smirk.

"Yeah maybe," you played along with the roll of your eyes. "I should finish that report."

"Kunikida-san already put you to work. How cruel!" He pursed his lips. "You don't have to finish~"

"I would rather finish it as I do have something planned later this evening."

Dazai groaned. "Oh fine."

-> Chapter 3

#ff x bsd astray in the black water

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mslangermann · 10 months

Note

The video file comes attached to a blank email. No subject line, no body text. Nothing but Alice's personal email address to identify it by. She's seated in front of a dark background, a single flickering lamp barely illuminating the background. In the center of the frame sits Alice, her eyes red and puffy as though she were crying just off screen. "Hi, Lynn." Her smile is a faltering ghost before it falls away completely. She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. "God, I don't know how to do this." Shaky hands smooth back over her hair before she can look back at the camera again. "I just wanted... I wanted to say goodbye to you. And this is the only way I can bring myself to do it."

Teeth catch on her bottom lip, tears obviously threatening to spill again. "I know what you're probably thinking right now. You want to dig and make sense of it. I can't tell you not to investigate -- that'll just make you want to do it all the more." A soft laugh exhaled through her nose. "Maybe you don't understand why I-- Or maybe you understand better than anyone. I won't waste time trying to justify myself. My reasons, my choices, they're my own. And I don't think it's what you'd want to hear right now anyway." She sighs, her shoulders falling, and the exhaustion on her face seems to deepen as some of the tension leaves her.

"More than anything I wanted to say that I'm sorry for putting you through this. Please don't blame yourself. You can hate me, if you want -- I'd rather you think I'm stupid and selfish than think it was in any way your fault. You couldn't have talked me out of it, Lynn. I need you to know that." Another breath, this one held longer as Alice straightens up in her seat. "Sometimes to move forward, we have to do the unthinkable. I hope, someday, you can forgive me, and even if you can't... Thank you, Lynn. For everything." She musters a weak smile before she leans forward to turn the camera off, and the recording cuts to black.

… I need you to know that.

Lynn pauses the video, her gaze fixed on how @miswaken's hands moved to her lap outside of the shot. Thin fingers. Trembling fingers. And yet, in this one, fleeting moment, there is a sureness in her frame. It fills her with a subtle determination, an acceptance of what she’s about to do - or so Lynn believes. A click of her mouse and video plays once more. The Alice in the video, just one of many fragments she left behind, straightens - an act Lynn has watched a hundred times over - and instinctively Lynn’s eyes flick to the lamp behind Alice, knowing the exact second it will flicker. By her count, it flickers four times over the course of the 22 second video.

There is no obvious pattern to it. No consistency. During her first replays of the video, Lynn thought it to be code, a signal Alice sent through for her to decipher. Unraveling the secret of the light to provide any reason as to why she did this. Morse code was immediately ruled out. And if the number of flickers was relevant, Lynn couldn’t wrap her mind around how. Four… four what? Four days until she took her life? No, the video was created nine days before Alice’s death was confirmed. The number four rolled around in her head ceaselessly for days, plaguing her as she tried to make sense of it. Reluctantly, after a string of unfounded conclusions, she eventually admitted defeat and left the light alone, adding its significance to a mental stack of dead ends.

Sometimes to move forward, we have to do the unthinkable.

Pause. The unthinkable. Earlier in the video, Alice claims Lynn may understand why, and perhaps in some ways she does - she knows the horror of losing a loved one, she knows the hell Alice has been through - but for Alice to do what she did, to take her own life, doesn’t add up. An outside perspective would simply say Lynn has yet to accept the death of her friend, that she spends her nights replaying the video left for her over and over again, analyzing each pixel, printing off relevant shots, filing and connecting the evidence she’s pulled together, as a way to cope. Perhaps there’s a sliver of truth to that, but Lynn knows there is something else here. It’s an instinct that gnaws so deep within her and it’s rare that her gut steers her astray.

Play.

I hope, someday, you can forgive me…

Pause. It was this line that kept her company while she walked through the opening of the gallery dedicated to Alice’s final project: The Dark Place. Alice’s words rang in her head, a dull, pounding ring so similar to her bouts of tinnitus, as she stood before a screen. It was set up in the corner of the gallery, a warning label fixed on a sign stationed before the setup that read “Trigger Warning: Suicide.” Lynn stood alone past the sign watching as each gray still brought her friend closer to the edge. The moment her foot reaches the edge, Lynn’s stomach lurches and her heart follows, plummeting into a deep trench she wasn’t sure it would come back from. And yet no matter how painful it was, Lynn continued to watch. Searching for answers.

The answers had not come. No matter how much she pours over the video, the police reports, the emails, the photos, the financials, the fact Alice so meticulously prepared for her end, she never finds answers. They evade her, as though she is chasing shadows in the dark.

Play.

Thank y-

Pause. The last remaining seconds of the video have played on Lynn’s computer in real life, slowed down, sped up, broken up, twisted and pieced back together so many times she’s lost count. But the ache of those words - thank you, Lynn, for everything - carve a hole deep into Lynn’s chest. The vacancy welcomes her guilt, a feeling so potent she is physically sick with it. She should’ve pushed harder to find out why Alice had been so withdrawn. She should’ve been there for her. She should’ve helped. She should’ve done more. She should’ve known. She should’ve. Should’ve. Should-

The incessant analysis of it all falls apart and so does Lynn. At first, it’s a sharp sound in the back of her throat, a whining that spills into a choked sob. Her laptop is shoved back, nearly falling off the table as she scrambles to a stand, the chair squeaking on her kitchen floor. The sobs rack through her now. So powerful she loses her breath and is forced to grip the table. Hot tears roll down her cheeks and she can do nothing but cry and sob and shudder and gasp. She wants to knock the table over - even tear down her entire apartment if she could. It’s an instinct that falls away as she sinks to the floor, her sobs evolving to broken wails. She’s trapped in this moment, the agony of it all pinning her like a taxidermied butterfly, its wings fixed in flight it would never know again.

“I’m- … sorry. I’m so sorry.” Lynn manages to sputter. “I’m sorry.”

Somewhere above her the video has begun again, a result of her shove, and Alice’s voice echoes in the empty space.

Please don’t blame yourself.

“I’m sorry…”

The video plays again. Caught in a loop as Lynn sinks deeper and deeper into the swirling guilt that threatens to swallow her whole.

#miswaken #ANSWERED.#VERSE : WIDE AWAKE ( remedy )#🙃

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creativia10 · 2 years

Text

(title pending) Ghost Logan in Poly

Virgil had been planning on moving into a house with his friend/crush Roman. However, when Roman realizes Virgil found an actual haunted house to move into, Roman refuses to live there. Virgil tries to get to know the honestly not dangerous ghost and tries to convince Roman that it really is ok to join him in the house. All the while a blooming relationship is forming between human friends and ghost.

Relationships: romantic Analogical, romantic LAMP, background Dukeceit

Wordcount: 8491

Warnings: ghost Logan

Notes: Tuliptober Prompt 31- Free day

I considered just switching who in Dukeceit was the ghost, but I wanted to put more of a spin on it than that. Plus, I don’t often write Remus’ pov. It still intimidates me. I also considered making Virgil the ghost, but that almost seemed too obvious. Plus, he was the other one of the sides’ characters I could see actually being excited about living with a ghost. So with that, I thought Logan matched closest to ghost Janus’ vibe and thought this way sounded interesting.

(end note for Tuliptober series will be separate post. )

Based on @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors Ghost au

@transexualfoxprince

Virgil hadn’t been trying to find a haunted house to live in. No really, he wasn’t. He just found himself curious about them with his interest in ghosts. He tried to look up the history of the houses he was looking at living in anyways. The adult son, Logan, of a family who had owned the turn-of-the-century house had contracted the Spanish flu and died in the house. He was supposedly buried on the property somewhere. Virgil wasn’t sure how they’d be able to put the house on the market without listing that in the records somewhere. So he didn’t really have any confirmation for that.

Someone young died before their time in this house? Yeah, Virgil had to find out if the guy’s spirit was still around. It was better to know that sort of thing anyways so he could prepare himself. Virgil was pretty sure his real estate agent, Mindy, thought he was some sort of Freak. She hadn’t said anything, of course, considering he actually wanted to look at her least desirable houses.

It was nerve-wracking to ask her if they could do the walkthroughs at night if possible, he knew it was strange. But he also figured it would give him a higher of figuring out if there was an actual ghost on the property. This time though, she obliged him of his strange request.

Virgil didn’t bother trying to hide the spirit box he brought with him as he walked up to join Mindy in front of the house. Like pretending he wasn’t holding the contraption would eliminate the weirdness of it. Virgil coughed.

“Uh, ready.” Then he flipped the spirit box on.

Mindy glanced at the device but chose not to comment.

“…Right,” she said, unlocking the door and leading him inside.

Mindy chatted about the houses’ features. Two bedrooms, good for his roommate situation. Virgil’s attention was divided though as he also listened to the spirit box. So far, it was just static.

“You mind if I walk around on my own for a bit?” Virgil asked.

Mindy eyed the contraption again and then slowly nodded.

“The owner doesn’t live here, and it’s between tenants, so there’s nothing you shouldn’t touch. Just-be careful.”

Virgil nodded. “Yeah, of course I will.”

Virgil hurried his pace carefully up the set of stairs.

There was a widow’s walk up there that had the most reports of apparitions. Virgil figured he had the highest chance of seeing an apparition there.

“H-hello?” Virgil asked. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Are there any spirits here willing to speak with me?”

The box cycled. Virgil didn’t hear anything.

“Is Logan here?” he tried, “Will you talk to me?”

“No,” hissed the box, “Go away,”

Virgil jumped with a gasp, fumbling the box for a moment.

“Whoa…so cool.”

He actually got an intelligent response…on his second try! And then a full, if short, sentence. That exceeded his expectations.

“Uh, don’t worry! I don’t mean you any harm. My name is Virgil!” Virgil exclaimed. He was practically vibrating. “Did you mean no as in you’re not Logan, or no, you don’t want to talk to me?”

Virgil shook himself. That was probably too complicated of a question. He should know not to go for more than yes-and-no-

“Talktoyou,” spat the box.

“Oh my gosh,” said Virgil. “Oh my gosh, you’re an actual ghost in here. That is so heckin’ cool! You’re so cool oh my gosh! And you’re having a whole heckin- full blown conversation with my oh my gosh you’re so smart! You must be. Okay, okay, so you are Logan then?”

There was a longer pause this time. Virgil held his breath.

“Yes,”

Virgil jumped again slightly. Less so than the first time though. He then pumped his fist in the air.

“Awesome! Logan, you have totally just made my day- week, month, year, oh my, you are just, literally actually just talking to me! This is so stinkin’ cool!”

Virgil paused to take a breath and reign himself in. He was getting very excited, but he didn’t want to scare Logan off.

“Okay, Logan. I won’t make you talk to me if you don’t want to. Just know your very existence here, to me, is really cool. I hope you don’t mind me looking into this house. The last thing you need is more residents disturbing your peace. I’m hoping I can find some way not to disturb your ghostly existence if you’ll give me the chance though. I’ll try my best to make accommodations for you. You did live here first after all.”

Virgil winced at his last sentence, he probably could have worded that better.

Virgil waited a moment to see if he’d get anything else, then he started to turn around. But then, Virgil noticed in the corner of his eye, the delicate outline of a hand, a partial apparition-

On instinct, Virgil reached for the hand, but it vanished before he even got close. His hand closed around on nothing but cold, empty air. Virgil caught his breath again.

He made his way down the stairs. He was smiling when he made his way over to Mindy. For some reason, she jumped upon seeing him there suddenly.

“I think this might be the one.”

“…Yeah?” said Mindy, looking cautiously excited.

Virgil nodded.

“Yeah, like you said. Sometimes you just feel the perfect one in your heart. I am sure feeling that.”

Logan watched as the latest human chattered with the real estate agent about buying the house as they left. Logan felt…well, strange. This was not how these typical interactions went. Not that Logan had very many, especially not as of late. A potential buyer bringing in a spirit box was odd. Most people who had heard the house was haunted and still wanted to buy it were the ones who didn’t actually believe that it was haunted. But this man-Virgil- had been looking to see if he was there. He seemed to be relatively sure about Logan’s potential ghostly existence there. He spoke to Logan…and seemed very excited to speak to Logan.

Gosh. Logan could barely recall the last time someone actually wanted to talk to him. It must have easily been decades then. Granted, much of it came from the fact that Logan was well a ghost. But even still though, he’d take what he could get. Virgil still seemed to treat Logan with a certain level of respect, from what Logan could tell.

Logan tried to humor Virgil the next few times he came to his house. It started to become easier to use that little screaming box the more he did. He could still only manage short sentences though. That would not fly. Logan hated his communication is so limited. It was one of the most frustrating parts of being a ghost. Logan had been known for his long-winded contributions to a conversation when he was alive. It was something he missed honestly. Like another part from his life lost.

At least Virgil didn’t seem to mind though. The other did his best to keep up a conversation with Logan, even if it was just a retelling of his day. He always seemed delighted to simply be able to chat with Logan at all. Even if with this restriction Logan was a truly abysmal conversation partner.

Logan found he wasn’t dreading this new roommate though. Unlike how he usually was.

Renters didn’t seem to want to stay in the house very long. Logan rolled his eyes as he thought about it.It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the fear of ghosts. That just didn’t make it any less annoying when at times he would hardly do anything. There had been a constant rotation of irritating, skittish families. It was exhausting.

Especially when Logan would find himself fading to almost nothing for a few weeks. He’d wake up to find the entire house full of new furniture, people, and everything. There was only so much he could do to avoid scares when he wasn’t fully in control of where he faded into. There was a time he tried to be more accommodating. He just didn’t see the point anymore.

Logan was someone who liked to have more control of things in his life when he was alive. Getting sick and having to deal with the nebulousness of being a spiritual entity was not fun. The way he was unable to grasp onto time and the newer technologies was frustrating as well. He used to love new technology. He loved being very knowledge about what was considered intellectual knowledge of his time. Yet, now he was very much not on top of things.

So he tended to hate the new things on the sheer basis of no longer being in on knowing about their function. He actually got headaches for these new things when he tried to wrap his brain around them.

But Virgil- he came several times before he moved in. He greeted Logan politely and sometimes shared fun facts about himself while being generally cordial. It felt like Virgil was waiting on something though.

Maybe even…waiting on Logan.

Ah. Maybe he was hoping for some sign of approval that it was okay for Virgil to move in? Logan would almost think it was out of protective instincts. But Virgil has loosened up more as their almost conversations had continued. Logan didn’t think Virgil was scared of him. More likely, Virgil wanted to respect his wants. Respect Logan’s claim on the house he had died in. It was very considerate, and something Logan had not received ever since passing.

He thought it fair to give Virgil the permission he was seeking.

The next time Virgil arrived, Logan watched as he set up the little box on the kitchen counter. Logan summoned all his energy and tapped the little box to speak first as soon as it was ready,

“Salutations,” He said. Logan tried his best to enunciate, but it seemed distortions were inevitable with the creaming machine. Perhaps communication would continue better if Logan practiced speaking out loud on his own. He hated how this thing screeched.

Virgil gaped and his eyes widened. He looked around the area, before directing his gaze back to the box.

“Uh, hey Lo!” Virgil said enthusiastically. “You usually don’t start so chatty when I come by. Are you glad to see me?”

Logan took a breath he didn’t really need.

“Yes,” he said. Virgil gasped and then his face split into a grin.

“…Yeah? It’s good to hear from you too.”

Logan felt like he could smile too. Perhaps this was something new that he could be ok with.

On move-in day, Virgil brought in his ghost equipment first. He hoped this wouldn’t seem like it was going against his promise of meaning no harm. But Virgil wasn’t going to do anything to Logan from this of course. He couldn’t help his curiosity. Virgil set up a camera system and thermometers in each room. Also, an EMF recorder in the widow’s walk and the two bedrooms that shared a wall, which seemed to be the spots Logan had the easiest time talking in. Virgil couldn’t leave the spirit bow on all the time, but he wanted to try and catch any glimpse of Logan that he could even when it was off.

“I’m just doing my gear right now,” Virgil spoke into the phone as he hooked up the camera in the kitchen.

Roman sighed on the phone. “When will you be done then? Pat wants to be sure you won’t try to move in yourself.”

Virgil huffed. “Just come tomorrow. I’m too much of an anxious mess to do that anyways. Remy is gonna lend me the truck tomorrow to start bringing in my actual stuff,” said Virgil.

Roman hmmed.

“Roman, it really is fine.”

“No Virgil, it is not.”

In Virgil’s excitement about meeting an actual ghost, there was something he forgot to consider. He was planning to move into this house with someone else. His friend/crush Roman. Roman pretty much refused to go near the house as soon as he learned it was haunted. It was disheartening. Virgil was excited about the house, but he had also been looking forward to moving in somewhere with Roman. He hoped he’d be able to eventually convince Roman to give the place a chance. For now, Roman crashed with his brother Remus who was living with his boyfriend Janus. Since they lived near the new house.

“You moved into the most haunted house you’ve ever successfully recorded something in, said Roman, “On purpose. You chat with the ghost like it’s your friend.”

“Hey,” said Virgil, “I think he is my friend. It’s really not bad. Nothing has really seemed dangerous about this.”

Virgil heard Roman scoff. There was an abrupt hissing sound from the other room, and Virgil stilled.

“Hold on,” he said. Virgil moved into the living room. He found that Logan slid his box containing the camera set-up Virgil hadn’t gotten to yet in this room from one corner to another.

“Whoa,” Virgil couldn’t help but still be amazed every time he saw something new from Logan.

“Why did you do that, Lo? Is something wrong?”

“I hear you talking to it,” groused Roman. Virgil sighed.

“Him, Ro,” Virgil corrected, “Okay, Lo, I’ll put the camera in that corner instead. I’ll get out the spirit box in case you want to tell me why you even care.”

There was no response, but hopefully, Logan still heard him. So Virgil moved back to finish in the kitchen.

“Fine, he,” said Roman, “He who is dead, and probably not all that there. He could totally pull a Poltergeist on you. Then I will have to live with knowing my b- friend experienced the plot of a horror movie.”

“Ro..,” said Virgil, “Lo’s cool. He’s actually, kinda sweet.”

Roman paused for a long moment.

“Virgil,” Roman said with a hint of something unreadable.

“What?”

“Please tell me you are not developing a crush on this ghost.”

Virgil sputtered. That was the last thing he wanted Roman to think.

Someone spoke on Roman’s end of the line too indistinct for him to make out. Roman sighed.

“Yeah yeah, I’m aware you don’t believe in ghosts, Janus,” said Roman. “When Virgil is ready to let us over to his new place, I’m sure you can share you skepticism to your heart’s content.”

“Oh, I think Lo make a believe out of him yet.” Said Virgil, “He talks to me just like anyone, there’s no way to explain it away.”

There was another sliding noise, this time in the back hall. Virgil went over to where he’d heard it, and found that Logan had again moved his box of equipment, this time toward the back door.

“And, he has opinions on the camera setup, apparently.”

Roman made a distressed noise at that. Virgil sighed again.

“I’ll find a way to show it really is ok here, Ro. I’m gonna go for now to see what he wants. Don’t panic. I’ll check in with you periodically.”

Virgil hoped that getting other friends to see that Logan wasn’t bad would help him to eventually convince Roman to move in with him. He didn’t know if Logan would be comfortable with that either, but maybe this would convince him.

Virgil’s…equipment set Logan’s teeth on edge. Virgil had explained that these were more devices like the screaming box, things that would help him to see and talk to and interact with Logan. It’s just that, it felt like a lot. Something in every room, and facing out in the yard where Logan’s urn was buried somewhere. He didn’t really remember.

Virgil was doing everything he could, it seemed, to meet Logan properly. But this wasn’t just for Virgil apparently. Virgil had brought over a friend. Logan wasn’t sure how he felt about it. This person seemed nice enough, and didn’t completely freak out when Virgil mentioned wanting to show him that his new ghost roommate was nice. Logan didn’t want to be some sideshow, but he didn’t think that was Virgil’s intention anyways.

Logan had been trying to figure out what the issue was, with context clues and a bit of eavesdropping. Virgil wanted someone named Roman to join him in moving in. Logan didn’t understand the significance. Clearly, this was a relationship Virgil valued, with this person. And yet he wasn’t just leaving Logan either. It was nice in a way, even if Logan didn’t understand it.

So this current friend visiting, who wasn’t Roman. He wore glasses, like Logan’s own. He smiled but with uncertainty. Not outright skittish like some Logan had seen in the past, but not as open as Virgil. Logan didn’t understand the point of this.

“It’s possible nothing will happen, of course. I get the feeling he’s shy around other people, which is honestly understandable.”

The friend nodded. “Lo?”

“Oh,” Virgil blushed and shuffled.

“Yeah, his name is Logan. I probably should have made sure a nickname was ok first, hm? Here. Hey Lo! Do you like it if I call you Lo as a nickname? Knock once for no, twice for yes.”

Logan didn’t hesitate to almost immediately double knock, just inside the wall of the room they were in. Both Virgil and the friend startled. Then Virgil smiled fondly.

“Sweet,” he crowed.

“Oh my gosh,” said the friend, “I heard that.”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh yeah, he hasn’t done that before. It’s probably easier than using that spirit bow.”

Logan had been practicing when he had the space to on his own, to talk out loud. Because he found that, for the first time in decades, he really wanted to talk to someone. To properly talk to Virgil.

Virgil placed his hand on the spot Logan’s knock had come from. Logan found himself longing to be able to press his hand right alongside Virgil. Virgil ran his thumb over the old drypaper with a smile.

“Oh! That reminds me.”

Virgil guided Patton over to where he could watch the videos from the cameras set up. Logan of course followed.

“Wow,” Virgil breathed. Logan hovered over their shoulders to get a look at whatever it was they were seeing, “Ghostlights everywhere. In every room, and a lot of them. You sure do move around a lot, Lo.”

Yeah, thought Logan fondly, I was following you.

“But you seem to like this room best. It probably used to be yours, didn’t it?”

Logan didn’t really need to respond. He noticed though that Virgil seemed to like it better when he did. He knocked firmly on the floor twice, figuring Virgil would remember it had meant yes earlier. The friend jumped again and looked at the spot on the floor where Logan had knocked.

Virgil smiled and nodded. “Yeah I thought as much.” Then his face fell slightly.

“Wait, is it okay for me to still stay in this room? Oh, why didn’t I think about that earlier? Logan decided then that Virgil’s distress was a higher priority than possibly spooking the friend.

Logan knocked twice again, even louder. Virgil relaxed.

“Ok, thanks. Just let me know if that changes. I don’t want to seem like I’m taking anything of yours, even if I technically own this house now,”

“Virgil,” The friend gently put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder.

“This Lo-or Logan, made an effort to reassure you that sleeping here was ok when you were in distress. As far I’m concerned, that’s a sure good sign that this is okay. And uh, I trust your judgement about this. He seems nice. I look forward to getting to know him more with you.”

That brought a warm feeling to Logan. Warmth. Gosh, had he ever felt warm since he died? Considering his last living moments he was wracked with chills, it had likely been even longer.

Virgil smiled at his living friend. “Thanks Patton, I really appreciate it.

Patton. Maybe he could use this. For his friend and potential other friend, Patton, who also seemed nice. Logan focused on the warm feeling, putting all his focus into it, and spoke,

“Hello, Virgil…friend,” He said. Logan watched Virgil’s face light up even as he instantly felt drained and exhausted. Patton looked shocked for a moment before his face lit up as well. That had definitely been worth it. Being able to make someone he cared about smile again.

It was nice when communicating with Logan became easier and more normal. Almost like living with any other roommate. Virgil could call out across the house and almost always get an answer in response. Which was so wild and amazing. Virgil was glad he had gotten distracted from his initial plan to document everything to take to the public as proof of ghosts’ existence. He wouldn’t want to do that now. Logan was special. Logan could be a normal ghost or something completely unique.

It was nice to share this special thing with Patton for now as well. Patton was starting to come over more. He didn’t always have an experience with Logan, like that first time with the knocking. Ghostly events, you could almost call them, took energy out of Logan. Patton was there for a lot of them though. Virgil was starting to feel a softness for Patton as well. He was gentle, kind, understanding, and patient with ghostly circumstances.

On the increasingly rare occasions Logan couldn’t call back, he’d know to let Virgil know he’d heard him. Virgil would switch to yes or no questions until Logan’s voice came back. Patton was good with these adjustments as well. Neither of them had seen Logan yet though.

There had been more glimpses like that first day. Shadows in the corner of Virgil’s eyes, the shape of a wrist, the swirl of a coat disappearing around the corner of another doorway. These were usually with Virgil alone. But as Patton started to come over more, he saw a couple of glimpses as well.

Each one left Virgil’s heart pounding. He fought to keep his voice steady every time he turned to the shape and greeted Logan, even after it had vanished from sight. Virgil wanted to see Logan so badly. He suspected Patton did as well.

(Not to mention, he had some level of self-awareness. He knew what it meant when he felt the flip in his chest when Logan called out to him. The way his breath stuttered when he saw glimpses and the way he ached to Logan’s face like he was missing something desperately. He was definitely screwed.)

There had been more glimpses closer together that day-the full shape of a sleeve. When Patton was over earlier, he mentioned seeing something that might have been a wave. Then that fraction of a moment where they both thought they saw a face. Virgil could tell because they both silently exchanged a look Virgil’s heart had nearly leaped into his throat. At one point, Virgil had been sure Logan was simply standing in a doorway, but when he turned to look it had been empty.

Virgil didn’t point it out though, no matter how excited each time made him. Virgil could practically feel how ghost him would be self-conscious about such a thing. If Logan was trying, if he was doing it on purpose, it could have embarrassed him into stopping. It could make him feel bad if he didn’t manage it today.

So Virgil would be patient. For Logan. It was worth it to wait. He continued about his day trying to be subtle about the way he watched and hoped.

Virgil didn’t know how he would have expected it to go.

Logan simply walked into their bedroom. There was figure standing there, plain as day.

They stared a each other for a moment. It had to be Logan. Logan’s eyes widened a little as their eyes met.

“…Lo?” asked Virgil, voice cracking.

Logan’s eyes widened even further. His lips flickered into a smile as he nodded.

“Salutations,” he said, the same voice Logan had been hearing for weeks.

The moment was here, and Virgil could barely manage speak. He took a shaky step towards Logan.

“You’re…it’s really you. I’m really seeing you.”

Logan was a little see-through, not quite gray-scale but his colors were washed out toward silvery. It was pretty in an ethereal sort of way. Logan looked down and shuffled a bit.

“…yes.” They both walked towards each other slowly. Logan reached out a hand as though to meet his hand like Virgil had pictured with that time in the kitchen. Virgil mirrored him and stopped his hand just in front of Logan’s. Then he pushed his hand forward as though to complete the almost high five.

Virgil’s hand passed right through Logan’s. Virgil felt a shock of sensation, like dunking his hand in a bucket of ice water. Logan’s face flickered into a frown. Logan lowered his hand.

“Hey” said Virgil soothingly, “It’s ok, Lo. I’ll live without a high five.”

Virgil had a brief moment of wanting to facepalm from his own word choice when Logan smiled again and laughed. A dazzling, and half-echo-y and beautiful oh. Yeah, Virgil really couldn’t deny it now. Virgil had definitely fallen for his ghost roommate.

The more Logan appeared to another, the easier it became. On his best days, he simply walked around the house visible without having to think much about it. It was a wonderful experience he continued to favor.

It was almost heady, to with another again. To spend time with Virgil in silence and know that even when he didn’t speak Virgil knew that he was there and cared that he was. Wanted Logan there.

Even though Virgil’s friend Patton had seen signs of Logan, and didn’t look scared anymore, Logan was still hesitant to visibly show to another.

Logan walked between rooms of the house to find Virgil instead of simply appeared. He spoke without prompting, asked him questions, told him things even when he hadn’t been asked. Not to mention now Virgil could respond to Virgil based on something he observed with Logan.

Logan hmmed audibly. Virgil looked up and quirked his brow in curiosity.

“Yes?”

Logan looked up.

“I didn’t say anything.”

Virgil set down what he was doing.

“Yes, but you have that ‘I’m annoyed with technology’ glare on your face. What is it this time?”

Logan frowned. He didn’t realize he had been obvious in his glaring at Virgil’s device.

Logan sighed and gestured at it.

“My tablet? Do you know why?”

They’d figured out that if they could identify what annoyed him about the object, Virgil could often explain it in a way that it became less frustrating.

Logan shrugged. “I don’t know. The laptop doesn’t bother me anymore.”

Virgil hummed and looked it over.

“Could it be the touch screen? Does my phone bother you too?”

Virgil got out his phone as an example. Logan thought it over and then nodded. Virgil waved him over.

“Maybe if I show you some of the gestures it’ll help.”

Logan walked across the room and sat beside him. Close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off of Virgil’s body. Another returned sensation. Logan had slowly been able to distinguish temperatures, despite sucking all the heat out of the air around them like a sponge himself.

Virgil demonstrated several gestures with the tablet. What helped was the explanation on how touch screen worked by detecting things that conducted electricity. Like a bare human finger.

It helped Logan to relax. He let Virgil’s voice wash over him, feeling warm, real, and well almost alive.

Virgil found he had a bit of a problem. He definitely had a crush on Logan. A pretty big one. But he already had a crush on his friend Roman. And now, Patton was starting to get added to the mix. Virgil wasn’t really sure what to do. But Logan was the one Virgil lived with. He was the one Virgil was around the most and therefore caused the gushiest heart palpitations. The one he was surer of with how he felt at the moment, for some reason. So, he could start there.

Virgil was almost nervous to head over, but he wasn’t sure who else to talk to about this. Virgil gulped. Janus raised a brow as he let Virgil in.

“Roman’s not here,”

“I’m uh, not here for him.” Virgil kept walking before Janus could question him further.

Virgil sighed and let himself into Remus’s room.

“I need your help…but I need you to not tell Roman about it.”

Remus gave him a curiosu look.

“Ohh? Sounds spicy if you’re keeping a secret from brother dearest.”

“It’s like, not a secret or anything, just, I dunno. Just don’t tell him, please and don’t tell him I told you not to tell him.”

Remus rolled and tsked at him with a headshake.

“Well now you’ve piqued my interest.”

“It’s related to like squishy feelings and stuff.”

Remus wrinkled his nose. “I am not giving you dating advice related to my brother. Believe it or not, I have standards.”

“What? No! Nothing like that, gosh!”

Okay, Virgil was definitely blushing now.

Remus hmmed, not seeming convinced.

“Alright, are you ditching my brother then?”

“There’s nothing to ditch! We’re friends.”

“Mhm, just get on with it then.”

Virgil huffed out a breath.

“I think I might like my ghost roommate.”

Remus’s eyebrows raised. Then he gave Virgil an unhinged grin.

“Hell yeah dude, get that ghost bod!”

Virgil groaned. “You don’t have to say it like that! Anyways, you seem likely to have some idea how to do that. And don’t just recommend uncomfy things! Give me actual advice.”

Remus hmmed and stroked his mustache.

“First, let’s eliminate the impossible. Can he leave the house?”

Virgil thought.

“I don’t know actually,” He said slowly, “I don’t think he’s ever tried?”

“Probably not then,” said Remus, “So you can come up with something indoors, no eating, or electronics, that could limit you to Netflix movies…”

Virgil nodded. “That could work. That’s like go to stuff for me, although it would be nice if we could leave the house though.”

Remus nodded.

“Yeah he’s incorporeal and bound to the house, so he’d need a body.”

Virgil blinked, “What?”

Remus gave him a look.

“Are you actually suggesting I purposefully let him possess me? I mean, I don’t doubt he wouldn’t hurt me, but I’m still not sure,”

Remus started giggling and clapping his hands, “Oh that sounds like so much fun. Please let me know how it goes. I can only imagine the super kinky stuff that could happen from that. Hey, if you don’t want to, can I be his meat bag?”

“No!” Virgil exclaimed. Remus merely giggled again.

Janus sighed as he stopped by Remus’s door. “Really? Virgil this is truly getting ridiculous, I hardly think-“

“Whoa, what’s going on here? Who is congregating by Remus’s door?” Roman asked as he came back into the apartment.”

Remus was jumping up and down now. “Virgil’s gonna offer to let Logan posses him because he’s thirsty for ghost dick, apparently,”

Virgil screeched. “No, I’m not, I didn’t say, I mean,- aghhhh!” Virgil just fled the apartment after that, hiding in his hood and unable to look Roman in the face. He was definitely blushing. Maybe going to Remus for advice had been a mistake.

When Virgil arrived home from the frustratingly vague “hanging with a friend”, Logan could tell something was up right away. Virgil slammed the door and he was currently hiding in his hood. A sure sign that Virgil was in distress. Well that just wouldn’t do.

“…Virgil?” He asked carefully.

Virgil huffed a breath. “Yeah, Lo?

“Are you okay?”

“Mhmm,” Virgil practically mumbled, still refusing to look at Logan. “Totally good, yeah.”

Logan sighed. “Is that why you’re avoiding looking at me?”

Virgil sighed. “Nothing get’s past you, huh Lo?” Virgil looked over, but his face was still somewhat covered. Logan gestured for him to continue.

Virgil took a deep breath and let it out.

“I want to a friend for advice. He was horribly obscene in his responses, but I still got an idea from it.”

Logan tilted his head. Well that sounded, curious.

“I, well, I thought maybe-“

He paused and bit his lip. Logan refrained from telling him to stop that.

“Have you ever, like, possessed anyone?” He blurted.

Logan blinked. Well, he hadn’t expected that question.

“Uh, I cannot say that I have,” said Logan wasily.

“Have you ever like wanted to?”

Logan stared.

“…Why?

“I was wondering, if you’d like want to possess me?”

“W-why would-“

“I was just thinking,”

Virgil started to ramble, fidgeting with his fingers, “that we or you could, and then we could like- you know go somewhere, maybe a movie, or to eat some easy casual food and walk or-you know.”

Logan again almost came across a sensation that was surely not possible as a ghost, such as his chest thrumming with something. A yearning of some kind, a warm inflation of some sort of glee.

“Virgil,” Logan croaked, and then cleared his throat, “Are you asking me on a date?”

Virgil slumped in relief and smiled nervously. “Uh, yeah, that’s-that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“…I’m dead,” said Logan.

Virgil looked at him.

“So?”

Logan let out a laugh at that.

“Okay, but, I thought you were already with someone?”

Virgil blinked, “Who?”

Logan shrugged. “I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like you were.”

“No, I’m not.”

Logan nodded, thinking on that.

“We could, like, go with Patton or something though,” Virgil said. Logan blinked and looked at him.

“Oh?”

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah, like, we trust him. And you know, wouldn’t have to pretend like I’m having a date with one body. Not that I’d be embarrassed to go with just you or anything!”

“No, it’s ok. I understand…I would not be opposed to that, actually.”

Virgil met his eyes then. They seemed to communicate the same thing there. After a moment, Virgil smiled.

Logan crossed the room and Virgil’s arms opened as he reached for him. Logan longed to feel arms wrapped around him, he could almost feel it. But instead-

Their chest met, and the room spun viciously. Logan found himself facing the opposite direction.

“What?” he-they?-said.

“Oh my gosh,” and that must have been Virgil, but Logan felt the shape, flow, and voice of it with his own mouth.

“This is-fascinating,” said Logan. Virgil lifted his hand to touch their lips. Oh. Thar was certainly a sensation. So Logan ran his finger over the soft swell.

“This is so cool,” breathed Virgil. Logan laughed, in Virgil’s slightly lower voice than his own.

“So…what do you wanna do?” asked Virgil. He swung their arms some. “We can go see a movie or just walk in the park. Maybe a restaurant? It can be just the two of us at first, or we can go with Patton, I can give him a call, whichever is more comfortable. Anything you want,”

Gently, Logan ran his hands down through the soft hair on Virgil’s forearm, and then clasped their hands together, palm to palm in front of them.

“…Lo?” Asked Virgil, quiet.

“Could we go another time?” asked Logan, unfortunately unable to hide the shake to his voice, “This is-a lot.”

“Yeah,” said Virgil, soft, “Of course, Lo. Do you want-we wear something soft. Or take a relaxing bath.”

Logan squeaked, “Virgil!” He could actually feel heat flood his cheeks in a blush, “I’m not going to take a bath like this,”

“…oh, right.” Virgil shuffled self-consciously, “Didn’t uh, really think that one through.”

“Wearing something like pajamas sounds nice though,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded. “We’ll still have to get somewhat undressed to get in pajamas, you know.”

Logan sighed. “Yeah, it’s fine.

Logan made his way over to their bedroom, their heart thrumming, hands still clasped.

Logan still pretty much avoided most people except Virgil when he had guest over. Virgil figured it made sense. A hundred years of almost been exclusively ignored or feared was bound to make anyone a little standoffish. Virgil was hoping it would eventually get better, as he hadn’t given up on trying to convince Roman it was safe enough to move in. But Virgil wasn’t going to push it.

Remus and Janus took up part of the couch. The other half had Roman and Patton. And Virgil, not trusting how he would be around either Roman or Patton, had banished himself to the chair. They were chatting about, Virgil thought something academic related to Janus. He had honestly missed what the exact topic was. It probably went over his head, but Virgil would not admit it around the other.

So it arrested his full attention the moment Logan walked out of the kitchen doorway.

“Virgil, dear, have you seen the silver mirror, my reflection is being spotty again and I wanted to check-“

Logan froze in the doorway, like he startled to see the other people there. Which was…odd. Logan was usually always aware of all the life in the house.

“…hello,” said Janus, “Virgil, you didn’t tell us you had another guest over. That’s poor host etiquette there.”

“No way,” said Roman, gaping.

“What was that you said about your reflection?” asked Remus.

Logan stayed frozen for another moment, before he simply winked out of existence.

Roman and Patton screamed. Janus leapt up from the couch with complete shock and some panic. Remus looked torn between awe and terror.

“Whoa, guys! It’s alright! Everybody calm down. You’re gonna freak him out.”

“I’m going to freak him out!?” Exclaimed Roman. Virgil winced.

Patton took a breath. “Sorry Virgil, and sorry Logan. Just caught me off guard.”

The others turned to him.

“You knew about this?” Roman asked, voice strangled. Patton made a so-so motion.

“Virgil has invited me over a few times to meet Logan, but I’d never actually seen him before.”

They had been meaning to have a possessed date accompanying Patton, but neither Virgil nor Logan combined had worked up the nerve to yet.

Virgil took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yeah, so it’s fine. See?”

Patton nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay. So everyone, sit back down. No more screaming. And we can continue this calmly without anyone scaring each other. Alright?”

They sat back down on the couch. Virgil turned and cleared his throat.

“Hey, Lo?” He said gently, “it’s really fine. They’re not gonna hurt you, it’s fine to come out.”

There was a wavering minute. Virgil started to think maybe Logan was gonna stay invisible, but then the air in front of the wall opposite the couch shimmered and Logan appeared.

“Salutations,” said Logan.

“Virgil,” said Janus, strangled. “If you’re somehow playing a practical joke on us, I ask you please pull your ‘gotcha’ now.”

“No practical joke,” said Virgil, “Logan, this is Roman, Patton who’ve seen before, Roman’s brother Remus, and his boyfriend Janus. Everyone, this is my boyfriend Logan.”

At which point Virgil realized that in spite of their possession-based dates that was the first time he’d ever actually used the word boyfriend.

He had a few reasons to worry about his usage of that word then.

Sitting in the chair, Virgil gestured for Logan to come closer. Slow, almost ginger, Logan moved across the room and sat on the arm of Virgil’s chair, smiling hesitantly.

“I’m Logan,” he said, “I’m dead, as you may have noticed. It’s nice to meet you,”

“Uh yeah, Likewise,” said Janus, his voice still choked with confusion and panic.

“…Well!” said Patton, bright. “It’s nice to finally see you! How long have you been together now?”

“Since September,” said Logan. Virgil’s chest filled with warmth at how they were apparently on the same page in spite of the lack of verbal communication.

“Soo,” Remus started, “You actually went through our seduction via possession plan?!”

Logan’s face shimmered like a holograph. Virgil pursed his lips and made a smothered noise in embarrassment.

In spite of himself, Logan found that as the night went on, he was able to relax.

Since Logan had gotten a taste of what it felt like to be treated simply like another person, a friend, someone loved again, after so long. From being with Virgil. He’d been dreading the possibility of returning to that cold, ignorant fear, if he revealed himself to anyone else. He acknowledged to himself that longing, even if he hadn’t been thrilled by it before.

And they had been afraid-at first. Patton was the first of them to get comfortable with Logan since Virgil had slowly introduced him. Remus hadn’t really seemed scared, but that didn’t make him any more comfortable to be around. It was hard to get a read on him. Luckily the more Logan spoke, the more the others relaxed. It became easier to speak and exchange social pleasantries and feel normal.

There was a twinge when Janus offered to shake his hand before they left. Logan had to tell him it wasn’t possible but it was small, compared to the warmth in his chest.

Roman hung back from the others for a moment before they left. He fidgeted some before looking at Virgil.

“Okay…I’ll concede it’s fine to live here. Do you still want me to move in? Or has the offer passed from me being a stubborn ass.”

Virgil grinned wide. “No, of course you can still move in Ro! I’m so glad you came around.”

Virgil pulled Roman in for a hug, a move a bit unlike him, before chattering about moving in plans and how quickly Roman could get his stuff in. Logan saw the soft way Roman looked at Virgil. Well, Logan had expected as much. Even if he hadn’t actually seen the other in person til that day. He did overhear things. It was a good thing he trusted Virgil’s judgment about another potential roommate to their situation. It was still nerve-wracking. They looked at eeach otherwith adoration as Roman left. Really, how were they so oblivious?

Then Logan got distracted from bringing it up. Virgil started showering Logan with praises over how proud he was for how Logan was around new people for the first time in a while.

Logan turned away to hide his face in embarrassment. He heard Virgil cross the room to him, cooing.

He wasn’t expecting to feel the faint, warm pressure of Virgil’s hand passing through his. Logan turned to Virgil again to see him frowning at the spot where his hand hovered, just inches away.

“You know you can’t touch me, Virgil,” Logan said gently.

“Yeah...,” Virgil said and shrugged. “I’m not gonna stop trying, though.”

Virgil leaned in, slow and careful, and brushed his nose and mouth against Logan’s cheek. It was warm. Both like and yet not quite like touching something while sharing Logan’s body, and also something uniquely all its own.

“I love you,” said Logan, quietly. He almost couldn’t believe he’d said it, but wouldn’t take it back.

Virgil inhale sharply and pulled away to look Logan in the eye, face shining.

“I love you, too.”

Roman moving in went smoother than expected. He was still wary at times around ghostly things, but he bounced back quickly. It helped that Logan could lightly needle him into a lighthearted debate on something. Virgil would smile softly at those moments, reminded of his own banters with Roman. So that pining hadn’t gone anywhere yet. Virgil and Logan did finally work up the nerve to go on possession dates where Patton joined them. It was nice. Patton was around even more than before. Before anyone even said anything, he had sort of joined Virgil and Logan so now they were three.

Virgil still got nervous about Roman knowing, but he seemed supportive. It was a bit hard to tell how he felt. Although little did he know, Logan did notice all the shared looks between all of them. The ghost was just not the best at figuring out how to get to the next step. The final bridging od the gap came from an unexpected situation.

Virgil was going to be away for a couple of days. He was nervously repeating things for Logan to remember, in an honestly cute way.

“Having Roman around will help you not to lose time. And Patton can probably come around often, like for times when Roman isn’t here.”

“I know. Virgil,” Logan laughed and came towards him.

“You’ve told me everything a dozen times. I did exist in this house for a hundred years before you got here, you know.”

Virgil let out a slightly nervous laugh. “Yeah, I know,” He said, rubbing the back of his head, “I just-hate leaving you. I don’t want to come back to find you’ve lost a bunch of time, it-feels like I’m abandoning you or something.”

Logan gave him a small smile.

“You aren’t,” he said softly, “I know you’re coming back. And you’ve got me wonderfully set up here.”

Virgil nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “You’ll hardly notice I’m gone, will you?”

“Almost,” said Logan, “I will scarcely register your absence.”

Virgil shook his head. He stopped to grab his band and heaved it over his shoulder.

Roman came out to wish him goodbye as well.

“Don’t worry dark and stormy, we got you covered here. Don’t take too long now.”

“Alright,” said Virgil. “See you both on Monday. Love you,”

“Love you too,” said Logan. Virgil leaned in to hug Roman and kiss him. Then he leaned in to press a quick, light kiss to Logan’s mouth. They separated with a little smack, and Virgil waved with his free hand.

“Bye, babes,” he said, walking out the door.

As Virgil climbed into his car, he furrowed his brow. He was forgetting something. But he couldn’t figure out what is was. Used to feeling like he forgot something, Virgil shrugged, and pulled out of his parking space and drove away.

Both Logan and Roman spent several minutes after Virgil left staring at the door, moths agape. Logan could still feel the phantom press of Virgil’s lips.So warm and a little chapped and so gentle where they’d touched his-leaving a barely-there aftertaste against his.

Hesitantly, Logan pressed his fingertips to his mouth.

Roman made some sort of squeak, but Logan was hardly paying attention. Virgil had kissed him. Virgil had kissed him, and it had been real, nothing ghostly or facsimile about it.

Logan turned to Roman and felt overcome to test something. He walked up to Roman and poked him.

“Did you feel that?”

Roman blinked at him. “Uh…yes?”

Logan tried again. He set his hand on Roman’s arm. Roman’s breath caught. Logan was really touching him. It felt nice. He moved his hand away, and then focused on his hand and Roman’s arm. His hand passed right through. Roman jolted back at that and he gave Logan a pout.

“Hey, don’t do that.”

Logan was more distracted by this new discovery though. He tested this a few more times on Roman and every object he could get ahold of in the house. Roman just watched. When Logan wanted to touch things, he did. When he wanted to be incorporeal, he was.

Logan came over to the tablet, lifting if from the side table and sitting on the couch with it held in front of him, the way he’d seen Remus do so many times. He managed to find the correct icons, clicking it. He set up a group call.

Patton spoke first.

“Virgil, I know you want us to check on Logan but you just left, and-“

“Hello, Patton,” said Logan.

Patton stared at him through the video call.

“Logan? Is Roman there?”

“Technically yes, but,”

Roman waved his hands in front of the screen to show he wasn’t operating the tablet.

“Virgil just left. And he kissed me,”

“And me!” Roman chimed in.

“but don’t tell him, because I want to see how long it takes him to realize,” Logan said with a smile.

“He kissed you?” gasped Patton.

“Yes,” said Logan, unable to help but smile wide and besotted.

“And I’m currently holding the tablet, which is novel. Janus and Remus will probably want to come over, I’m sure they’ll have a wonderful time figuring out what the hell is going on.”

Janus and Remus arrived with half an hour, and when they did put Logan through all manner of experiments.

“It seems you are truly able to be either corporeal or not, entirely at will,” said Janus.

“and this had never happened before?” Remus asked.

“I’m pretty sure I would remember something as notable as this,” said Logan.

Remus then offered to give him a hug. The firm warm arms squeezing around him was a pleasant experience Logan hadn’t realized he was missing before.

“I believe I have a theory,” Janus said.

He went on to explain how, as Roman put it, love made Janus solid. A realization that Patton and Roman both loved to jump on, in order to ‘charge him up’.

Monday arrived. Virgil had called no one in a fit of confusion. He seemed totally unaware of the way he’d completely changed Logan’s afterlife before walking out the door.

He was looking forward to this. Logan could tell that Roman was as well. Maybe the last pieces to their dance would stop and all the pining could be resolved.

Logan smiled as the front door opened.

“Hey Lo, Ro. I’m home,” Virgil called.

Logan stepped up to him. “Hello dear,” said Logan fondly, before throwing his arms around Virgil’s neck and kissing him square on the mouth.

Virgil froze for a moment, before wrapping his arms firmly around Logan’s waist and pulling him so close Logan’s feet were barely touching the floor.

Breaking away with a gasp, Virgil frantically pressed one hand firmly to Janus’s face.

“Wha- Lo-“

“I’ll explain in a minute,” said Logan breathlessly.

“Only I’ve just figured out that kissing you feels quite a bit like flying, so I’d appreciate it if we could do a bit more of that first.”

Virgil let out a slightly hysterical laugh. He moved to seal their mouths together, but then,

“Hey, give me a chance!”

Virgil turned to give Roman a wide-eyed look. Roman smirked at him. “Lo isn’t the only you surprise kissed before leaving.”

Roman came over to him, and they were both touching Virgil now. It was a lot. It was wonderful. They would still need to talk about this, but Logan could tell though, for the first time in a long time, this would all be happy.

#tuliptober2022 #sanders sides #romantic lamp #analogical #ts virgil #ts logan #ts roman

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rosetheex-editor · 10 months

Text

[Video transcript begin.]

[The transcript begins with the camera in a wagon, it faces the back of someone in a brown jacket. A ruby sewn on the back. The person's hair is not visible from the hood, their arm is outstretched, the black plastic handle of the wagon in their hand. In the background the faint jingle of a music box is heard, seemingly being played in the wagon.]

?: Remember what I told you.

[Voice identified: Rose.]

Sp: Don't play it loud. I know.

R: Yeah, we're close to where Ruby was last so y'know.

[Sparrow sighs, turning off the music box and dropping it in the wagon with a thunk. Rose stops the wagon.]

R: What?

Sp: Why are you worried? We've lived this long. Correct?

R: You and I both know anything can happen.

[A loud, metallic scraping noise can be heard distantly.]

R: W- What… Ok Sparrow come on.

[Rose tries to move, her arm grabbed by Sparrow. Bandages visible through the holes in the child's blue sweater. The scraping noise continues.]

R: WHAT?

Sp: I need… Water.

R: [Whispered.] WELL I DON'T WANT TO DIE

Sp: You have. A gun.

R: I… Good point!

[Rose drops the handle of the wagon and pulls a gun out of her pocket, Putting it very close to her head.]

Sp: Is that. Smart?

R: I have one fucking eye dude!

[The scraping grows even louder, as the source of the sound draws closer. A figure appears from behind the corner, a large metal object in one hand. They seem to have been using it to walk.]

R: STAY BACK OR I'LL SHOOT! I- I- what…

[The camera moves, Sparrow propping the camera against what is seemingly their legs. Both figures now properly in frame.]

[The first figure freezes, the metal object clatters to the ground.]

R: No no no no no, you’re dead, I saw you die. TWICE! I HELD YOU AS YOU BLED OUT THE FIRST FUCKING TIME! SPARROW PLEASE TELL ME I'M JUST LOSING IT.

Sp: No. Well… You pointed a gun at someone. So maybe.

?: … Hi.

[Voice identified: Edgar.]

R: Did I take my pills today? Sparrow, did I take them?

Sp: Yes. Yes you did. Hi mystery person.

R: [Whispered.] Am I dead? No, because Sparrow isn't dead. Can I see ghosts? No, why would I be able to see ghosts?

[Rose begins walking back and forth in front of the wagon, popping in and out of frame.]

[After a few seconds of watching, Edgar takes a step forward, almost immediately falling over.]

Sp: Are you ok? Rose quit freaking out. Help the mystery person.

[No response besides the same now jumbled whispers.]

Sp: I swear. Anyway. Are you good?

E: Yeah! I’m, uh. I’m fine. Just… yeah.

R: Quit talking to the dead guy Sparrow.

Sp: Eh? He looks alive to me. Are you alive?

[The man sits up, his features now visible. He appears to be covered in blood, his clothes look as if they’d been ripped up by a paper shredder, but he gives the two a thumbs up, smiling as if nothing was wrong.]

Sp: Rose quit being stubb-

[Rose turns around to face the child, tears falling from her one visible eye, a look of distraught on her face.]

R: I WATCHED HIM SHOOT HIMSELF IN THE CHEST SPARROW! I HELD HIM AS HE DIED! THEN JUST WHEN I THOUGHT I GOT HIM BACK HE GOT SHOT IN THE FUCKING FACE ON LIVE TV!

E: Um… surprise?

Sp: Hug him.

R: What?

Sp: Hug him. If he's dead you won't be able to right?

[Rose sighs, slowly inching towards Edgar.]

R: You sound like your birth mom bloody hell.

[Rose stops right next to the figure, her hands slowly tapping on her hips.]

R: Soooooooo. Um. Can I hug you? Ghost man?

E: Please.

[Rose falls to the ground and hugs Edgar, after a few seconds she begins sobbing.]

R: I- It’s… R- Really you?

E: [Sounding as if he’s holding back tears.] Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.

R: I thought… I. Y- you…

[Rose continues the hug, now sobbing on the man's bloody shoulder.]

E: No, I’ve– it was faked. For the show. I– I–

[Edgar finally begins crying, unable to finish his sentence.]

R: I… [Muffled.] Please never do that again… Please talk to me next time.

E: I won’t. I promise I won’t ever do that again. I’m sorry.

R: I was scared… I… God I don't know how long I just… Spent in a tree. After that I…

Sp: According to Ness and Henry 3 days.

R: I um… I'm sorry I didn't try and help, I missed you so fucking much.

E: Same here. I– don’t blame yourself for that. Please. I– it wasn’t. It was my fault. Not yours.

R: IT WASN'T YOUR FUCKING FAULT! Can people quit saying that!

Sp: Isn't that hypocritical?

R: [Muffled.] I don't practice what I say sparrow. [Unmuffled.] But my point stands! Not your fault!

E: I’m– I’m sorry, I can’t fully believe that. I… I can’t.

Sp: Mystery man. I was told to blame everything on showfall or Mai. So why do you blame yourself?

[Edgar looks up, tears streaming down his face.]

E: I had a choice to not pull the trigger, kid. And yet…

R: STOP! Quit fucking saying it was your fault you pain in my ass!

E: Rose, if it’s not my fault, then who’s fault is it?

R: You wouldn't have felt like that if not for Showfall correct?

E: … there were other factors.

R: Like what…

E: I’d… rather not say. Not yet.

R: I'm here no matter what, I promise. I'm not leaving… [Whispered.] I can't lose my family again.

E: Thank you.

[Edgar continues to sob, showing no sign of stopping soon.]

Sp: May I ask. Who is this mystery man? I zoned out except to correct you.

R: Wha-

E: Oh. Right. They’ve never…

R: Don't you have a pic- Nevermind that probably isn't very accurate now huh?

E: Uh… alright. [Clears throat.] Hello, Sparrow. My name is Edgar, nice to meet you.

Sp: You don't look. Like how I imagined.

[Rose looks over her shoulder, presumably toward Sparrow. A look of shock mixed with annoyance on her face.]

R: What?

[Edgar laughs, coughing a few times after.]

E: What did you think I looked like?

Sp: I drew. A picture.

[Fabric shuffling behind the camera, An arm pops in at the top of the frame pointing towards Rose. Who begrudgingly stands up and walks over to the wagon, paper ripping is heard and moments later Rose returns to Edgar with a piece of paper.]

R: Here.

[Edgar looks at the paper, and bursts out laughing.]

E: I– honestly, if I didn’t know what I looked like, this is what I’d think of, too.

Sp: I see. Also because it has become tradition. And you hurt me.

[Metal and fabric shuffling, after 5 seconds. Sparrow throws an empty metal soup can into frame, pelting Edgar in the head.]

Sp: That's for what you did in the forest.

[The man smiles, holding a metal arm to where the soup can hit.]

E: Yeah… I deserved that. Sorry, kiddo.

R: Oh. Hi adam- WAIT ADAM WHAT THE FUCK?

[Rose removes the hood over their head, long curly brunette hair falling out and covering a bandaged part of her head. As well as some of the patch on her back.]

E: Oh, yeah, um. Adam kinda just… showed up. After I… um. Yeah. Say hi, Adam.

[The robotic arm unlatches from Edgar’s arm, landing on the floor with a quiet clank. He uses the mechanical tendrils in the back part of the arm area to wave at Rose, before scuttling over to Sparrow.]

Sp: H- Hi?

[Sparrow's voice changes, for once not the monotone or sad it normally sounds. This time having a tone of joy.]

?: Hello. Sparrow. I have something. For you.

[Voice identified: Adam.]

[A series of mechanical whirs, before Adam hands Sparrow a lollipop.]

Sp: Wh- THANK YOU!

R: Hooooly shit I don't think I've ever seen the kid that happy.

A: I have had that. For many days. I felt now would be a good time to. Give it to you.

R: As long as you don't try and teach them arson I'm fine with this. You two being friends.

[Adam turns to look(?) at Rose, before producing a lighter from… god knows where.]

A: You are. Lame.

R: They are thirteen, no teaching them to burn shit down.

Sp: Ness did that, does that make her the cool aunt?

R: NESS DID FUCKING WHAT NOW?

A: Two. Things. One, I am under one year. Old. Age does not matter in the case of. Fire. And two. Ness burnt down a… ‘Night Club.’ With Ophelia. And the rest of the ‘Public Relations’ Department.

R: Oh right… I forgot.

[Rose mumbles something under her breath.]

Sp: Do not talk about. Wanting to sleep with the cool aunt.

[Fabric shuffling as if Sparrow was pointing at someone.]

Sp: He's under a year old.

A: I am but. A mere infant.

R: How the hell did you hear me?

Sp: I have good hearing. Please do not talk about wanting to be tie-

[Rose hops up and cuts Sparrow off.]

R: OK ANYWAY NEW SUBJECT! ADAM HOW IS UH… Everyone I can't really check in from here.

A: They are. Worried. For you. And happy that. Edgar is not dead. I do not pick up on emotions easily. That is all I have to say. Unfortunately.

R: They don't have to worry… I'll be fine.

Sp: You had us directly across from “Hetch's” office.

A: I must say. That is a less than ideal hiding spot.

E: You fucking what.

R: IN MY DEFENSE! I DIDN'T FUCKING KNOW THAT UNTIL MANAGER TRIED TO KILL ME THE OTHER DAY!

E: HE WHAT.

R: IT'S A REALLY LONG STORY THAT I DON'T FEEL LIKE GETTING INTO! JUST KNOW, MANAGER TRIED TO KILL ME, I SHOT MANAGER, I PUSHED A SHELF ON MANAGER, WE RAN.

E: Ugh, seems like we both had our own little run-ins with that prick. He runs fast, good on you for pushing a shelf onto them.

R: Running fast isn't an achievement when I ran through the mall with a plant on my back once.

E: Yeah, I’m just lucky I can run faster than him. They described what would’ve happened if I didn’t. So I guess that was some good motivation.

R: What? They just told me I'd be ‘fired’ even though I technically quit.

E: Oh, so you weren’t threatened to be… what did he say… ah! Right. ‘Strung from the wall on the first floor’? Lucky.

R: At least I don't think I was…

Sp: We should. Really plan to get out of here. That does not sound. nice.

E: Yeah. And honestly, even though he’s a little… er… incompetent at times. I do think Manager is going to be a large issue.

R: So what? We could be fucked?

E: No, not entirely. I’m just saying… if you see a red light approaching you, don’t wait around to find out what it is.

Sp: So red and green lights are bad?

R: Yep.

Sp: Hm. I see.

E: Merry Christmas, by the way. Sorry, the combination of colors reminded me that it’s almost December.

A: What’s. This?

Sp: A box.

A: Why.

Sp: I don't actually know. Rose answer that one.

R: Ok! Storytime I guess, y'all know how I was in here… A while?

E: Yeah?

R: Well, before Ruby escaped that one time, we had a hideout in an empty spot of the ventilation shaft. After she escaped I never got the chance to go back… I guess Ruby did when she came back because, I found that in said hideout.

A: … Neat.

R: I uh… Haven't actually opened it, there was a note that said I couldn't open it until on or after my birthday in 2010… Or 2011… Or 2012… Or. You get the point.

E: Hm…

R: Yeah? What's up?

E: Oh, um. It’s nothing.

R: I… If it's not nothing and you're lying. Will you talk to me about it?

E: … Fine. It’s… I was just wondering if anyone ever tried to help me during those 24 years I worked here.

R: I… Maybe? I know Ruby tried to help people… Dunno who all she tried to help honestly.

E: Huh… Well, I guess we’ll never really know, huh?

R: I… About that, do you think… Somewhere in there she's there? Like I was?

[Edgar pauses, staring at Rose, his expression changes several times, first from confusion, to deep thought, then to guilt.]

E: No. No, I don’t think so. Nothing salvageable, at least. I’m sorry.

R: I… [Whispered.] Why is everyone saying that…

E: There’s… something I’d actually like to tell you. It’s important. And fairly on topic, I feel.

R: What? What is it?

E: You’re familiar with… S.V2, right?

R: The… Thing in the tunnels? Right?

E: Yeah. I… have reason to believe. That it’s not just… one entity.

R: Wait like there's more than one or?

E: No, no. I think it’s… not just one consciousness.

R: I… What are you getting at here dude?

E: When it was chasing after me, both times. It looked to be fighting against itself, trying not to hurt me. There are still people in that fucking thing.

R: I… Do you think we can help them?

E: And… that's the reason I’m telling you this. We can’t. I know we can’t. Rose, I need you to listen to me. Okay? Just listen to me for a moment.

R: …

E: Even if there’s something left of Ruby in there. We can’t get her back. She’s too far gone. I’m really sorry, Rose. But we can’t hold onto hope for something like that. It’ll end terribly.

R: I… Edgar… I… Please…

E: If it were up to me, she’d be alive and here with us, but nobody can reverse what’s been done to her.

R: THE… THE REVIVAL THINGY! SHOWFALL CAN BRING PEOPLE BACK! YOU'VE SEEN IT! HELL I'VE FELT IT TWENTY-SEVEN FUCKING TIMES!

[Rose begins laughing, not out of joy or sadness. But her own delusion.]

E: Rose.

R: She's… We can… Please…

[Rose's laughing slows, she begins sobbing again.]

E: I’m sorry, Rose. I really wish things could be different. I really do.

R: I shouldn't be here… It should be Ruby in my place… She had a kid, a husband, a life… I'm just a dumb fucking kid.

E: Hey, you’re my dumb fucking kid. You have a life too, you know. You’ve got Ness, you’ve got Kath, you’ve got me. You deserve to be here just as much as the rest of us. Got it?

R: I just want my big sister… I can't do this… I can't…

E: You can. It’ll be hard, but you’re going to make it through.

R: I want her back… I would do anything…

E: I know, I know… we should… probably get moving, huh?

Sp: Yes. My back is hurting.

R: Yeah… I um… Yeah.

A: My back is also. Hurting.

E: Adam. You don’t– ugh, never mind. Could you go grab the crowbar? I was… using that to move.

[Adam scuttles over and grabs the crowbar, reattaching to Edgar’s arm, he begins to slowly stand up.]

R: There’s room in the wagon. Y'know that right?

E: I can walk.

R: Can you?

E: Well, I made it over here, didn’t I?

R: Edgar.

E: Rose, I need to use my legs, I’ve barely moved for the past… however long. I need to walk.

R: Fine, but if you need it. It's there. Uh Sparrow?

Sp: We forgot water.

R: I will get you your water.

E: Uh, so… are you two planning on going anywhere? Or do you want to follow me to where I’ve been?

R: Uh… Refill the water containers, go back to our hideout… That’s about it.

E: … the hideout across from Hetch’s office?

R: No, we changed location. Uh… This one should be fine?

E: Oh, alright. I… need to go back to Mari’s hideout. They might get worried if I just… don’t come back, y’know?

R: Oh… Mari…

[Rose clears her throat, then whispers something into Edgar's ear not heard by the camera.]

E: Rose, they… I’ve been told how rough of a choice that was. Don’t be too hard on them.

R: They shot her, not just in front of me but in front of the kid. I had to drag Sarah's cold dead body into a fucking plant pot.

Sp: Hm.

E: … At least it was painless…?

R: … I… Let's just get going.

E: Yeah, yeah. I’ll um… I’ll go.

R: No. I haven’t seen you in over a fucking month. Can we… Walk and talk?

E: Oh, uh. Sure. Yeah!

Sp: I have not… Gotten to actually speak to him at all. In person at least.

E: Mhm. It’s nice to finally see you in person, Sparrow. Your hair looks nice.

Sp: Thank you.

R: They uh… They remind me a lot of Ruby when we were kids.

E: Oh, did you cut their hair? Nice work, if so.

R: No uh… Ophelia from PR did.

E: Oh.

R: Listen I… I still don't trust them but… Ophelia is nice to the kid and Ness so.

E: Jeez, I’ve missed… a lot. Haven’t I? Ugh.

R: Emi and Eden um.

Sp: They slept together.

[Rose bolts around to face Sparrow.]

R: SPARROW!

E: They keep bragging about it in my inbox. I already know.

R: She wants to remask Sparrow.

Sp: Yeah um…

E: Jesus fucking Christ. Where’s a damn pack of cigarettes when you need one…

R: Remember how you had a pack on you… In the forest.

[Edgar pauses.]

E: … yes?

R: Sparrow!

Sp: Catch.

[Sparrow throws an object into frame, a cigarette pack. Rose catches it and hands the pack to Edgar.]

R: Sorry there's um… Only seven…

E: Wh– Rose… Have you been smoking?

R: Want the truth or the one that will make you less upset?

E: Neither, hand over the lighter. I’m confiscating it.

R: I've been stressed ok! [Muffled between her legs.] You try taking care of Sparrow.

E: Lighter. Now.

[Sparrow throws another thing into frame, a lighter. Hitting Rose in the right arm, followed by throwing a full soup can at her head. It hits with a thud.]

R: OW WHAT THE FUCK?

E: Hey. Knock it off. This family does not need more head trauma.

Sp: That is for the. Comment. Also. What is up with your limbs? Mr Edgar. We are. Almost matching.

E: [Quickly.] It’s nothing, don't worry about it, let's change the subject!

R: Dad. Don't.

Sp: You were eating yourself in there. Weren't you?

E: Sparrow. You’re being ridiculous, why would I ev–

[One of the pieces of fabric tied around his arm slides, revealing a deep bite wound.]

R: Dad…

[Rose hops up and walks to the wagon.]

R: Remove the fabric.

E: Rose, please. I’d rather not.

R: I'm going to doctor your fucking injuries properly. Remove the fabric so I can do that please.

E: You don’t need to, it’s fi–

R: Edgar.

E: Fine. But I get to put it all back over top of the wounds after.

R: Fine, it can be like your armor in a video game.

[Edgar walks over to the wagon, leaning heavily on the crowbar for support, he nearly collapses when he reaches it.]

R: CAREFUL! Oh my fucking god I'm turning into Ruby… Um. Not careful! I guess.

[The camera slightly shifts as Sparrow seemingly moves closer to Edgar.]

E: Um, just a warning. It’s… pretty gross.

R: I've seen… Whatever the fuck you want to classify those task managers as. I think I'll be fine.

Sp: If you show your wounds I'll show mine.

[Edgar carefully takes the pieces of fabric off of his limbs, revealing many bite wounds. Edgar does not look at either person who is nearby.]

R: Wait a fucking minute… Noona. Said you were alive, and you've been in a corpse room since the show.

[Edgar looks at the floor, not wanting to make eye contact.]

R: I… I'm sorry.

E: Mhm.

[Rose begins wrapping the bandages around his arms, she is seemingly humming a song. Though it cannot be identified.]

E: Er… my finger is also… broken. Um.

R: How.

[He mutters something under his breath, before clearing his throat.]

R: What? Ok you know what. Can we both make a promise?

E: … okay, what?

R: No more secrets. Please? Let's talk about this shit.

E: … Fine.

R: What did you mumble?

E: I… I broke it myself. Out of boredom. I’m sorry.

R: Don't apologize, I did something like that once. It's how I learned I have a secret talent… Well how I got it too

E: Well, nothing like that happened for me. I was just in a closet full of corpses with a broken bone.

R: I um… Christ… Should I share something in return? A secret?

E: Only if you want to.

R: First, I'm done.

[Rose snatches a small pocket knife from the wagon, cutting the roll of bandages, Edgar subtly flinches away, but regains his composure. Rose throws both objects into the wagon.]

R: Second. Why did you flinch? I… I'm not going to hurt you.

E: … I don’t want to talk about it.

R: I'm not going to hurt you, I uh… Think my heart would fucking explode if I tried.

E: I know, it’s just… I don’t want to talk about that right now.

R: Well then… Time for uh… Me to stop running from this huh.

[Rose sighs, seemingly out of sadness.]

E: Yeah?

R: Has Emi told you… Which part of my family she's on?

E: No…?

R: Great… Um… Has she at least said she's my half sister? I know she's told others…

E: I believe so…? Even if she hasn’t, you just did, so…

R: Ok! So… You know how I uh… I've stuttered kinda when talking about my mom?

[Edgar nods.]

R: Ok… I can't really keep dodging it, when I was five my birth mom… hooked up with another man, it was I think less than a month after my birth dad died.

E: Oh, uh. That’s… hm.

R: A week later, she got pregnant… Kicked me and Ruby out of the house, Ruby took care of me for 4 days before our aunt found us.

E: That’s… really awful, Rose. I’m sorry she did that to you.

R: Yeah, I uh… I call my aunt my mom because even though she was really strict… I know why she was. I was the ‘weird’ kid in school, I got bullied because I asked a girl out one time… Part of why my birth mom kicked… Me out

E: Fucking hell…

R: Yeah… It's why it hurts so much Ruby's gone… If it weren't for her I probably would've died under a bridge or something…

Sp: Can I ask a question? Perhaps to lighten the mood?

R: Sure kid… Go ahead.

Sp: Edgar does Rose know you slept with two separate men in high school.

R: Sparrow what the fuck?

E: OF ALL THE FUCKING QUESTIONS YOU COULD’VE ASKED, WHY THAT ONE.

Sp: I thought it was the funniest one.

[Edgar places his head in his hands, laughing.]

Sp: Rose. have you done things like Edgar?

R: Beat people with a crowbar or the other one.

Sp: You know.

R: Then no comment.

E: What I did in high school is none of your business, Sparrow.

Sp: But it's the business of tumblr dot com anons?

E: That’s the only thing I had in there! It was either answer that, or go crazy.

R: [Muffled.] I feel like I'm going crazy.

Sp: You don't get to talk, you no commented a question.

R: Dad help.

E: I can’t help you here, Rose. They got me good.

R: Fine want an answer?

Sp: You said no more secrets. Correct Edgar?

E: I don’t think it can apply to stuff like this!

R: [Extremely Muffled.] no. now leave me the fuck alone about it.

E: God, Sparrow. I was saving that story for… many years down the line.

Sp: You are both. Incredibly sad. So I picked the funniest thing.

E: You sure did. At least Rose didn’t hear it from Leooo… [Trailing off.] I mean. Um. Nobody.

R: You fucked Leon, congrats want a award?

E: I do not want a sex award, no.

Sp: Isn't Leon the guy in the apartment with your girlfriend and ex girlfriend. And Rose's girlfriend, and Mari's sister.

A: Don’t forget. Liam.

Sp: Yeah, Liam.

R: Can we not mention Ness at the same time as your asking dumb questions?

Sp: This is why she's the cool aunt. She wouldn't call my questions dumb.

E: Let’s move away from this topic. We should probably get going, huh?

R: I'm just glad to fucking see you, genuinely…

E: Yeah… I’ve… really, really missed you

R: Same… Um, can we come with you to Mari’s hideout? Just to visit?

E: Well, I don’t see why not.

R: Cool let me just.

[Rose walks over to the wagon, finally noticing the camera and Sighing for 5 seconds.]

E: It recorded all of that, didn’t it.

R: Y'know what! Fuck it! Record all you want because that was a happy thing you son of a BIT-

[End transcript.]

#((ooc) gore)#((ooc) mentions of autocanibalism #((ooc) suggestive)#showfall ask blog #encoreverse blog #rose

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victorluvsalice · 1 year

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Tis Fall Tuesday in the Chill Valicer Save as of this update, and as usual, it's a busy one! So let's dive right into it, shall we --

-->Okay, first of all, it occurred to me that you guys probably didn't get a great look at some of the pictures the gang took on their vacation when I took the initial screenshots of the various photo collages I had made -- so here's a close-up of the four in Smiler's party barn, which I think show off some of the best poses I put the trio in. :p What, I like showing off their photographs!

-->All right, all right, we'll get into the actual game now -- I started the morning after Spookfest, with Alice having just finished her brief rampage and Victor having gotten up early because, well, their bed is amazing. I had Victor take a moment to remove Shadow's Spookfest costume, then left the dog bopping around to the tunes on the phonograph while Victor went to go challenge Smiler to a game of chest while Alice finished up her latest surreal painting in the background. Smiler ended up winning, but Victor ended up getting to Logic skill 4 during the game, so I'd say they both won. :)

-->Guidry also put in an appearance -- after checking in on Shadow (settling down for a nap on the couch), he wandered into the studio room to start bothering Alice as she tried to finish her painting. She indulged him a little at first...but then I had her change back into her human form right after finishing up her painting, and of course Guidry (despite being a GHOST PARANORMAL INVESTIGATOR) got terrified and decided this was the worst thing ever. *sigh* I really think werewolves turning back to HUMANS shouldn't be scary to onlookers, or at least not as scary as the other way around. On the plus side, Alice getting a negative sentiment claiming that she was a People Person reminded me that, "oh yeah, the game gave her that lifestyle again," and allowed me to grab the Lifestyle-Go-Poof potion and get rid of it. Really gotta track down that mod that makes it so it takes a lot more to become a People Person...

-->Anyway -- Alice was a bit tired, so after hitting the bathroom and taking a short detour to take Kelly's taco costume off, she hit the sack while Victor and Smiler did some more upgrades to the washer and dryer (Smiler giving the washer a tungsten drum so it would break less often, Victor giving the dryer a speed cycle so it would dry clothes faster). Smiler finished first and headed out into the greenhouse to unleash Bugs and Elmer upon it and grab all their herbalism stuff. And doesn't the greenhouse look good? For once everything was in bloom and nothing was being affected by that stupid "plants revert to dirt piles occasionally" bug! We love to see it.

-->We also love to see Victor's magic being helpful around the farm -- when I sent him out to help tend and harvest the rest of the crop once his upgrade was done, I noticed that the cow shed was stinking a bit. Normally this would prompt me to send a Sim in there to clean it, but this time I decided to check if Victor could just Scruberoo it -- and he could! So I had him do that. :D Magic -- it makes farm chores easier! Though it didn't get Victor out of weeding his oversized crops (Floralorial doesn't work on those -- and even if it DID, that's a per-plant thing, so it's a bit of a pain on a greenhouse as big as this one) or Smiler out of feeding the chickens, but that's okay. Some stuff is better done "by hand," as it were. :p

#sims 4 #the lazy save #victor van dort #alice liddell #smiler always #yeah I had to throw in that shot of all the pictures at the top #now you get to actually SEE the sillier poses that the game blew out in the actual screenshots #don't they look like they're having fun? :)#and yeah I'm continually annoyed by Guidry being terrified or annoyed by Alice's werewolf stuff #I suppose what I COULD do is somehow edit him to make him like all occult stuff with my mods #but I didn't think of that at the time #and as you will see shortly I will have a vested interest in getting rid of Guidry ENTIRELY soon #ugh he's so annoying sometimes #at least the greenhouse is looking good this update -- I was very happy to see everything properly grown :)#and that Victor's Scruberoo worked on the cow shed #interestingly though it does NOT work on the chicken coop #how bizarre #well I'll take what I can get #and cleaning the coop does occasionally yield fertilizers so #queued

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godoreo27 · 1 year

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Moster high haunted X reader part 2

As we got to the next scene Draculaura was shaking off her wet pompoms and put them in her locker and (Name) was waiting for her but then out of nowhere Johnny spirit came up behind her and turned visible which scared her but not y/n because she saw it coming.

Draculaura: "AH oh."

Johny spirit: "Hey Draculaura, Hey (Name)"

(Name): "Hey Johnny."

Draculaura: "Johny spirit you scared me half to life."

Johny spirit: "Clawd just asked me to give these to you ghouls. He's got were-flees or something."

As Johny spirit says that he gives a Bouquet to both girls then the camera pans to Clawd as he's freaking out and scratching himself and screaming.

Clawd: "STAY AWAY I'M PROBABLY CONTAGIOUS.

And after that Draculaura and Y/n wave to clad with a frown and Clawd whimpers as he ways back then proceeds to scratch himself.

Draculaura: "Tell him thank you for the roses, seriously don't scare me like that."

Johny spirit: "Anyway, me and some of the other ghosts are going to float around the mall this afternoon you ghouls and Clawd are welcome to join us."

Draculaura: "I'll have to catch up with you I'm almost finished here."

And after that Johny spirit walks away with some ninety's music playing in the background.

Y/n: "I'm going to go me and Clawdeen must go talk to spectra call me if you need me okay love."

Draculaura: Ok.

Y/n kisses her cheek before flying away with the other ghost. After like two minutes of them being gone Draculaura hears some noises and gets a little suspicious as a ball of light flies past her.

Draculaura: "Hello is someone there."

As she says that the lights flicker a little

Draculaura: "Johny spirit is that you."

Draculaura: "Babe if it's you then cut it out its... not... funny."

Draculaura then closes her locker and tries to walk away, but the locker opens again.

Draculaura:" *gasp* I told you not to scare me."

She then closes her locker again and pushes it to make sure it's closed. After a second the locker door flew open and out came a tornado that threw Draculaura's stuff everywhere. Draculaura ran away but then stopped suddenly and went back to grab her lipstick but was spooked into running away.

That's not the only time Draculaura was being messed with but weirdly they never impacted her negatively, on purpose that is.

The next scene show student turning something in and other students sitting in their seats one of the students were Draculaura, but she looked to be reading a book but truthfully, she was looking at a magazine, but then the pages of the magazine flipped drastically to a certain outfit which the ghost apparently thought would look nice on Draculaura and Draculaura thought so too.

Draculaura: "totes."

After grabbing everyone's attention like that Draculaura slumped in her chair and pretended to read the big book. And finally, Draculaura waited till she as alone in the hallway and waited to see what would happen but hat she wasn't expecting was another tornado to come and restyle her hair but the tornado actually did a pretty good job. And that was all the misfit for today she seemed to have made it too lunch without any other changes.

Rochelle: Your hair looks claw-some Draculaura. How did you get it to do that.

Draculaura: hmm don't know you'll have to ask my ghost friend.

Serena: okay I don't remember doing it but apparently, I'm an amazing hair stylist.

Rochelle: Hmm (Name) then.

Draculaura: No, I uh- I said friend not girlfriend I think I'm being haunted.

Twila: Are you sure.

And after Twila said that Draculaura's fork with a carrot on it tried to fly into her mouth.

Draculaura: Uh ya pretty sure.

Rochelle: Serena, you too are half ghost do you know anything about hauntings.

Serena: hmm my grandmother said you can get rid of them by holding your breath.

Draculaura then proceeds to hold her breath.

Serena: Or maybe that was for hiccups.

And Draculaura proceeds to let out that breath.

Twila: Maybe we should go talk to another ghost about this.As we got to the next scene Draculaura was shaking off her wet pompoms and put them in her locker and (Name) was waiting for her but then out of nowhere Johnny spirit came up behind her and turned visible which scared her but not y/n because she saw it coming.

Draculaura: "AH oh."

Johny spirit: "Hey Draculaura, Hey (Name)"

(Name): "Hey Johnny."

Draculaura: "Johny spirit you scared me half to life."

Johny spirit: "Clawd just asked me to give these to you ghouls. He's got were-flees or something."

As Johny spirit says that he gives a Bouquet to both girls then the camera pans to Clawd as he's freaking out and scratching himself and screaming.

Clawd: "STAY AWAY I'M PROBABLY CONTAGIOUS."

And after that Draculaura and Y/n wave to clad with a frown and Clawd whimpers as he ways back then proceeds to scratch himself.

Draculaura: "Tell him thank you for the roses, seriously don't scare me like that."

Johny spirit: "Anyway, me and some of the other ghosts are going to float around the mall this afternoon you ghouls and Clawd are welcome to join us."

Draculaura: "I'll have to catch up with you I'm almost finished here."

And after that Johny spirit walks away with some ninety's music playing in the background.

Y/n: "I'm going to go me and Clawdeen must go talk to spectra call me if you need me okay love."

Draculaura: "Ok."

Y/n kisses her cheek before flying away with the other ghost. After like two minutes of them being gone Draculaura hears some noises and gets a little suspicious as a ball of light flies past her.

Draculaura: "Hello is someone there."

As she says that the lights flicker a little

Draculaura: "Johny spirit is that you."

Draculaura: "babe if it's you then cut it out its... not... funny."

Draculaura then closes her locker and tries to walk away, but the locker opens again.

Draculaura: "*gasp* I told you not to scare me."

That's not the only time Draculaura was being messed with but weirdly they never impacted her negatively, on purpose that is.

Draculaura: "totes."

Rochelle: "Your hair looks claw-some Draculaura. How did you get it to do that."

Draculaura: "Hmm don't know you'll have to ask my ghost friend."

Serena: "Okay I don't remember doing it but apparently, I'm an amazing hair stylist."

Rochelle: "Hmm (Name) then."

Draculaura: "No, I uh- and I she said friend not girlfriend I think I'm being haunted."

Twila: "Are you sure."

And after Twila said that Draculaura's fork with a carrot on it tried to fly into her mouth.

Draculaura: "Uh ya pretty sure."

Rochelle: "Serena, you too are half ghost do you know anything about hauntings."

Serena: "Hmm my grandmother said you can get rid of them by holding your breath."

Draculaura then proceeds to hold her breath.

Serena: "Or maybe that was for hiccups."

And Draculaura proceeds to let out that breath.

Twila: "Maybe we should go talk to another ghost about this."

TO BE CONTINUED

So, I decided that I was going to try and continue, but at the end of the day I have no idea what is going to come up but still I can do all of the monster high movies because summer break is coming up soon which Is a great opportunity to write more. 1371 words

#monster high #reader insert #draculaura #cleo de nile #frankie stein #specta #clawd wolf #porter giest

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multiversxwhore · 1 year

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☾☾☾Hello! Hope you enjoy what you’re about to read, I would appreciate it if you like, and reblog my work here on tumblr. Please do not share my work anywhere else, and if you see it has been, or someone is claiming the work as their own please tell me. My master list is pinned to my page if you wish to see more! ☽☽☽

Chapter 6

Elieen stood on the other side of the glass watching her sister be interrogated, her arms, hands, legs, and feet bound to her body. They even put a strap over her mouth when they left her alone, the last time she tried to bite her own lip off. She hasn’t been in the same room with her baby sister since two Christmases ago. That’s when it all started, the hallucinations, erratic behavior, and the violence. Elieen always knew something was different about her sister, but she didn’t think she was capable of murder.

“Ms. Lexington, do you know what day it is?” Asked the psychologist, she had taken to the doctor quite well in comparison to all the others before her. Cameron gave her several compliments on how pretty her blue eyes were, she would go on about how much she liked the doctor's voice, and how the sound of it reminded her of a meadow on a sunny day.

“The day before tomorrow?” Cameron quipped snarkily, her eyes glistening.

“Today is Saturday June 18, 2018, today is your sister's birthday.” The doctor's voice faded into the background, Camron blinked once, and then a second time…her vision went dark. When she opened her eyes she’s back in the restaurant, sitting across from her. Angelo wore a worried expression.

“Camron…hello, anybody home?” Angelo snapped his fingers in front of her face, the sudden movement made her jump slightly. He paused watching her from his side of the table, her food barely touched, and her hands balled into fist.

“Camron amore mio, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, are you alright?” He grabbed her hand on the other side of the table, she didn’t pull away, nor did she make a sarcastic remark. The single tear falling from her eye, down her cheek and onto the diner table shocked her; something inside her came undone, an emotion she forgot she had. Camron knew if she dug deep enough she'd find the source of this foreign, yet familiar feeling of melancholy, what would she have to be sad about? Her life was great, she was beautiful, smart, and had a successful career. That’s when the thought hit her, as if finally realizing the answers to her current problem, she looked up at Angelo. Any sign of emotion he may have seen previously is now gone, her gaze dark, and chilling.

“I’ll commit to being your submissive, but like I said, I don’t want to have to lift a finger. I want my bank account full, and overflowing.” She leaned back folding her arms, though Angelo was going to do it anyway, he was enjoying her list demands she already had. His lips pressed together, his eyes shine amusingly, yes this is exactly what he expected from her. Childish, temperamental and spoiled.

“Anything else while you’re feeling as though you’re in charge?” He rested his chin in his hand, as he watched the wheels turn in her head, the corners of her lips turned upwards into a sinister smirk. She takes her time to take a swig from the half empty wine glass, her blood pumped through her vines rushing to her heart; a feeling of excitement washing over her.

“There’s someone I have to take care of, an itch I've been meaning to scratch if you will.”

“By that you mean? Speak plainly mi amore.” Angelo encouraged, his gaze intensely staring back at her from his side of the table, her tongue swiped across her top lip like a lioness that just finished feasting.

“I want to strangle the life out of her…my sibling, Elieen Lexington.” There it was again, that melancholy; part of her didn’t want to do it, but it had to be done if she wanted to be free. He watched her for a moment, her tone disingenuous, this is a facade which shocked him. She knew how to physically mask herself, but her voice betrays her.

“Why?” He asked, he needed a solid reason as to why he should allow this, if not done with focus, and precision, things could get messier than he preferred.

“Because I hate her.” She rolled her eyes as if that should have been an obvious motive, Angelo cracked up in laughter, his lips pulled back showing his imperfect teeth, but unlike Patrick something as frivolous as that did not concern him. Even when he’s lost his serious composure he’s still somehow attractive. That boyish grin shining through as he continued to chuckle deeply, Camron was confused as to why he found her request comedical. Annoyed that he wouldn’t take her seriously she pushed herself back from the table, stood up, and turned to leave.

“Sit down, I didn’t say this conversation was over did I?” His laughter had died down, his tone authoritative, yet soft, almost calming.

“You’re laughing.” She pouted

“I’m sorry princess, it just tickled me a little, killing your sister because ‘you hate her’ is typical. However, your wish is my command, but we do this my way. I have a reputation with my clients for being stealthy, I would like to keep it that way. This sister of yours, when’s the last time you’ve spoken to her?”

“It’s been a few…years.”

“Camron, you want to go after someone you haven't had public contact with in years?”

“So?”

“So you’ll be number one suspect, I’ve seen your history with psychologist, and if the police are as smart as I am, they would look into it to.”

“ Oh you google me? How sweet.”

“Anger issues mixed with maladaptive daydreaming really isn't a good mix honey.” Cameron felt squeamish under his scrutiny, his voice sounded far away in her ears, her heart pounded in her chest, and droplets of sweat formed along the lining of her forehead.

“Cam, relax, I’m kidding. Finish your food, and I’ll take you home?” He gently grabbed her dainty hand in his, bringing her knuckles to his lips, and kissed them. Cameron’s lips turned upward slightly into a half smile, she was no longer in the mood to argue. She bit into her food, half way through chewing she unintentionally yawned. Angelo chuckled half heartedly, signaled for the waitress, and began to pull his wallet from his pocket.

“I feel tired.” Cameron dropped her fork onto her plate, her posture slumped, and her head bobbed downward as she tried to fight the drowsiness. She attempted to look up, but her eyelids felt extremely heavy, her hands gripped the table.

“Did you fucking drug me.” She slurred out, Angelo sat back in his chair, his arms folded over his chest. A pitiful look in his eyes, this is not how he planned this to go at all.

“Of course not bella.” He spoke softly, he watched as Cameron fell out of her seat, and onto the floor.

#american psycho #american psycho fanfiction #fictional slasher #orginal character #urban slasher #black!oc #headcannonxgalore

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the-bar-sinister · 5 months

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In Justice We Trust (149799 words) by thesavagesabretooth

catch up here

With Simon Blackquill and Athena Cykes assigned as their psychologists, the Phantom and Fulbright must grapple with their identity, their deeds, their future, and their love for the twisted samurai whom they betrayed.

All the while, Edgeworth and Wright find their relationship tested as they walk the narrow path between pursuing real justice, and the dark age of the law.

December 25, 6:25 pm

"You probably weren't expecting to see me again today," Robert said as he stepped back into the cell. “Not one bit…but I didn’t expect Agent Ash to walk in with some girl, gawk at me for five minutes and leave without saying a word either.” A wry smile crossed her face. “...it’s a day of surprises.”

"I have another one for you," he said, shrugging easily. "Consider it some information in return for the information you shared with us."

Bonsai souls. Bobby couldn't stop thinking about it in the background. People twisted up and pruned while they're raised until even their soul is small…

His wave of emotion hit Robert, who tried to shrug it off. Bonsai are very attractive, anyway.

24 attempted to lean forward and onto her hands, only for the short chain on her cuffs to stop her short before her hands could reach her chin. She dropped backwards again with a huff.

“An exchange for the information I gave? That’s…novel…Please…surprise away.”

"It's about a personal experience I've been having," he explained. "An unusual one. Over the past year, I started hearing voices. A voice, rather. And experienced impulses that I had difficulty controlling."

They watched her face carefully as they spoke.

24’s expression, to anyone else, would have seemed unchanging in its neutral mask…but Robert knew better than anyone how to spot it. Her pupils constricted, her shoulders squared minutely…a surprised downturn of her lips that was only barely aborted.

She was surprised to hear him say it out loud.

“That’s..odd.” she managed to murmur. “Voices and impulses inside your head would be troublesome to hear…and troublesome to the mission.”

"Extremely troublesome, in fact," he said. "Many if not all of these impulses were either completely pointless, or entirely counter to the mission. They became more difficult to ignore the longer they went on. They also seemed to develop their own identity."

Her fingers flexed in the air before they balled into fists, and her gaze broke off his and turned down towards the table. “So what’d you do to the voice? How’d you make it stop?”

He shook his head. "I was not able to do such a thing. Eventually, I stopped trying. Since my capture five days ago, I've been evaluated based on this experience by both a psychologist and a spirit medium."

“No wonder you’ve been so erratic.” 24 mused quietly. She still wouldn’t meet his eyes, and her fidgeting only got worse. It was a dangerous habit for a clandestine asset…but likely a pleasant quirk for a young agent of interpol. “A spirit medium? A psychologist I can understand…”

"There happened to be one on site, and it seemed prudent." He slid his hands performatively into his pockets. "The voice has, after all, repeatedly claimed to be the ghost of the last man I had killed."

You know, Robert. For a man who doesn't have strong emotions or enjoy a lot of things, you sure like putting on a show.

Robert almost smiled. It's what I know, Bobby.

“Hh… “ the quiet sigh of breath was slight, but present, as was the faint trace of a grimace on 24’s face. “Scary. Real ghost story stuff.” she murmured blandly “but ghosts are as real as true sympathy.” Her head tilted to the side “...though we did talk about that earlier, didn’t we?”

"We did indeed. These people believe many strange things." The edge of his lip quirked just barely upward. "It's the medium's professional opinion that my soul is too small, so it's the perfect space for a ghost to move in. What a funny thing to say, isn't it?" “Your soul is too small…so a spirit moved in. Like what–you were a mouse living alone in a huge apartment?” Her voice took on a trace more life for a moment, and there was almost a laugh before it smoothed into the same slight grimace as before. “Do we even have souls?”

Like a mouse living in a huge apartment. I like that metaphor, Robert.

Because it's as ridiculous as you were.

I think you're kind of enjoying it.

"It is the medium's professional opinion that we do. And I witnessed what I have to confess was a fairly convincing demonstration." “Well…if souls are real, I have little doubt ours are as small as she says.”She spread her fingers with a bland and empty smile. She paused a moment. “...the young lady. That was the medium? The one who screamed when the door was closing?”

"That's correct."

Oh no… did she hear all of us laughing, too?

No, Bobby, the cell is soundproofed.“She seemed nice,” 24 had started to say. “Sorry I…” The sentence stopped partway through and she shook her head subtly before speaking again.

“So why are you telling me about the size of our souls? You think the voice you’re hearing is Bobby Fulbright? Mr. ‘In Justice We Trust’, the hero of Justitia?” She laughed quietly “You did make a convincing performance while I was observing you from afar.”

He laced his fingers behind his back and smiled. "I'm convinced of it, yes. And I'm sure that's why I did such a good job on such a long assignment, which I was put on with the expectation that I would fail. My psychologist says that whether the voice is psychological or supernatural in origin, she thinks it's– healthy, for me." “Your psychologist– the pretty redhead, yeah?” ” she trailed off, and her eyes downcast again. “...we were both put on assignments we were never meant to succeed in, weren’t we? But the voice in your head carried you through. Is that why it’s healthy? Because it helped you survive?”

"Because he helped me survive," he agreed, "and because he helps me adapt and understand the real world, and the people in it. How they feel, and… how I feel, even."

Robert! I'm touched!!

Please don't cry right now, Bobby. Not in front of her…

He couldn't stop himself from tearing up at the corner of their eyes.

Her shoulders had started to shake.

“They way they feel is…concerning, 1—” she cut off the number and murmured “Mr. Halblicht.” The fidget of her fingers began again as she continued. “I’ve been hearing things too. It started small…”

He stepped near her, and knelt down beside her again. "But it's getting bigger?" 24 nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yes. It started with little things, like knowing a waitress’ name at the restaurant. Or the nagging…devotion and respect towards Agent Ash and her circle…a craving for fresh coffee.” She turned to look at him, watching him with her careful gray eyes. “things like that…the knowledge that Kelso would flirt on a crime scene, often with girls. I thought it was just good fortune and good guesswork, but it’s only getting bigger.” She shifted. “She wanted to cry earlier.”

Bobby rubbed their neck awkwardly as he surged to the front. "I'll bet she did. It's a tough situation for a person to be in… Uh. Hi. It's Bobby." 24 reacted like a life wire had sparked at her fingertips, and she turned her pinpricked eyes towards him before she swiftly relaxed.

“...” Her head bowed slightly. “...hello, Bobby.” she murmured. “enjoying the spacious apartment?”

He grinned awkwardly at her and wrung his hands together. "Well, you know, I've kind of made myself comfortable. Hung up some new curtains, put my feet up. I got unexpectedly kicked out of my last apartment, so… now I'm crashing with this guy!" She laughed, actually laughed–or perhaps Kelso did, considering the look of muted surprise that crossed her face. “Ahh…ahhahh..hahh..” she tried to raise a hand to wipe near her eyes, only to be stopped by the cuffs. “Wow. Sounds comfortable.” Her voice wavered strangely, unsure and thick with the confusion that seemed to break through her otherwise cold and composed affect.

"Well, you know. No roommate situation is perfect," he admitted with a chuckle. "But we've started getting along. He can do stuff I can't, I can do stuff he can't, you know?" 24 composed herself, murmuring quietly. “Mutually beneficial.” She tried to look at him again, not seeming to be aware of the start of tears in the corners of her eyes. “Sam Wan Kelso is an emotional woman…even if she plays it casual and amused. Even right now I can feel her trying to reach out… she’s scared that I’ll try and erase her.”

"You can reassure her that even if she left, she would still exist," Bobby said gently. "But I think if she wants to stay, that you should keep her. I think you'd be stronger together."

Carefully, he put his hand on hers–theirs. Her fingers twitched, but swiftly relaxed.

“Stronger together, huh?” A slight twitch flickered across her lips before she smiled Kelso’s lazy little grin “It’s a big apartment but it could use a little TLC, Bobby. I don’t think I…” Her voice evened out “...she…is keen on leaving. ‘It’s not like my body’s in any shape to return to’ she says. Besides...she’s angry at our handlers, too.”

He squeezed their hand very gently. "I bet. Me too. So let's bring them to justice together, alright? The four of us– and everyone else." “The four of us…” 24 murmured quietly, before she nodded and turned her hand as much as she could to squeeze back “alright, sir. I’m…interested…in what we can do. You’ll have Sam Wan and my help…on a single condition.”

"Name it." 24 scoffed softly “...she’s been whining for a cup of ‘good black coffee’ for hours”

Bobby grinned and snapped into a peppy salute. "One good black coffee, coming up!"

December 25, 6:40 pm

Halblicht and Simon had remained at the precinct to discuss the case for longer with interpol, while Athena, Apollo, and Pearl had gone back to the hotel.

The car ride was quiet, with Pearl sleepy, and Apollo and Clay's emotions finally calmed to something less than a raging tumult. The anger had finally settled to a low, keening anxiety.

Athena took to looking out the window when the light conversation turned into a complete lull, reflecting back over the day so far…from the startling conversations, the confirmation of ghosts and multiple possessions, to the long and heartfelt conversation with her mother. Her own emotions weighed heavily on her in a way she couldn’t really comprehend. So she sat with them, reliving the moment her mother told her she was proud of the woman she became in her mind as she turned over the many twists her life had taken until this point… Apollo was on a timeline. They had a dead Interpol agent in custody sharing a body and mind with her killer. Her mother was ‘asleep’ in death and not ready to move on to heaven or a new life… And Simon and Halblicht had repaired their relationship. Things had changed so much, yet in some ways they seemed to be returning to normal. At least there was that. A merry Christmas could be had…maybe she’d buy herself a slice of cake.

When they got back to the hotel, Athena’s first order of business was taking Pearl to her room to rest. Apollo had followed along with them.

"Thanks, Miss Athena," Pearl said as they stood at the door. She flashed a bright, if tired smile, to all of them. Athena could tell that she was honestly happy, even with how wrung out she was. "And you too Mr. Apollo. And company. I'm gonna call up some room service and call it a night." “That sounds like a pretty relaxing Christmas to me!” Athena chuckled gently with a bright smile. “Rest up okay? And thanks for all your help, you did great!”

"Thanks!" she giggled and saluted. "You guys have a great rest of Christmas too, okay?"

Apollo gave a slow thumbs up. "Will do, kid. Hey– do me a favor and tell Trucy I'd like to talk to her. If not tonight, tomorrow."

"Promise!"

There was a little round of hugs and thank yous again, and Pearl slipped into her hotel room. Athena put her hands on her hips.

“Alright. That’s that…which means I need to figure out how we’re gonna spend the rest of the night.” She tilted her head to the side “...my usual Christmas tradition’s kinda shot, but I’m sure we’ll find something.”

"If you're looking for an offer, we could grab some dinner," Apollo– or could it be Clay?-- offered. Athena had a lot more trouble distinguishing the two of them than she did Bobby and Robert, despite the fact that she had known Apollo at least for much longer. "Unless you were planning on waiting until Prosecutor Blackquill gets back." “...I mean, I was hoping to talk with him tonight, yeah..” She started brushing her fingers through her ponytail, and chuckled. “But he’s probably gonna be busy for a while between the Interpol business and other matters…and I don’t think Ema would be pleased if she walked in on me eating a cake by myself and watching old sci-fi movies and historical dramas…given that she probably just wants to collapse for the night.” She smiled “..honestly I’d love some dinner?”

"Let's get some dinner, then, Athena." He slapped her companionably on the shoulder. "Even if I have more on my mind than when we usually do. Twice as much, even."

The attempt at humor was genuine, but it only barely masked his internal confusion. Athena laughed.

“I think you’ve been hanging around the Blackquills and my mother too much, guys…you’ve already picked up the sense of humor.” She stuck her tongue out “hopefully it doesn’t make ordering extra annoying, huh?”

"As if you get to pick on me for hanging out too much with a Blackquill," he teased back.

“I do, because …” She thought for a minute before she grinned. “because I can.”

"Anyway…" He huffed a laugh and waved for her to follow him down the hall as he started working. "I wouldn't worry about the food thing, honestly. It never even occurred to me…" She followed alongside him with a curious tilt of her head. “Really? I think having two people in there would make choosing a meal…you know…complicated.”

"Apollo and I mostly like the same foods," he answered. "His tastes are maybe a little broader than mine because of all the time he spent in uh–"

Clay seemed to suddenly realize that he was the one doing the talking, and trailed off as Athena felt his embarrassment spike.

Athena tilted her head to the side. “Hmm? Hey Clay.” She stretched, arching her back as she walked down the hall, “don’t worry…don’t get too embarrassed, okay?”

He glanced over at her with an apologetic smile. "It's hard not to. I'm not supposed to be here, you know? Talking out of Apollo's mouth– admitting that I'm here– it feels like breaking a taboo." Athena nodded.

“I kinda get that. It feels…I dunno, invasive? LIke you’re telling a secret that you weren’t supposed to?” She rubbed her neck “but I think it’s fine you’re here. Good , even…and I’m gonna treat you like anyone else, sharing a body or no, okay? Just uh…if I don’t notice right away, forgive me. It’s much easier with Robert and Bobby. They’re a little obvious.”

"That makes sense," he nodded. She could feel a spike of anger at the mention of Robert, but it was small, and confused with other feelings. "It's kind of nice in a way. Confirmation on something we always knew– how alike we are."

They made their way down toward the dining room, and even though there were few people around, his voice dropped even lower. “You two really are close, aren’t you?” Athena asked with a smile. “I used to always see you around the Cosmos center with one another…It’s nice to know you stayed close…stayed similar like that.”

They chuckled softly. "Yeah, we stayed very close. We were a big part of each other's lives ever since we met."

In the restaurant, they waved Athena to a table far in the corner. Athena followed eagerly…she wasn’t exactly looking to be the center of the restaurant’s attention, so the corner table suited her fine. “Which was back in jr. High School, right?”

"Yeah. We were maybe 12, you know? So it's been most of our lives." They settled down uncomfortably in the chair across from her. It would have been clear to Athena how anxious they were even without her special talents. “Most of your lives is right.” Athena smiled at them, leaning on her hand. “...it’s good that you’ve got a friend like that. The both of you…me and Junie were like that once before I ah, vanished.” She brushed her hair over her ear “Hey, Clay. Like I said to Apollo, if you ever have anything on your mind, you can talk about it with me, no judgment.”

He leaned on his hands and shrugged. "I appreciate that. I mean, we've still got each other, in a way, but… it's different. The way it's different hurts, you know?" “Because you can’t be there physically for one another anymore? You were close, but now you’re…well. Close in a different way?”

"We are," he nodded. "It's funny, it's already sometimes hard to tell where one of us ends and the other one begins, until we happen on one of those little points of difference that makes it obvious. We've been thinking… talking about that, since hearing…. the news."

“About how you’re going to grow…together?” Athena asked, “if you don’t leave?”

They nodded. "Yeah. That. Kind of a heavy thing, huh?" “Incredibly heavy.” Athena agreed as she brushed her fingers through her hair with a concerned hum. “Especially with it being on an unsure timetable with a pretty permanent deadline.”

"Yeah," he breathed. She watched him lay his hands flat on the table. His fingers were trembling. "Knowing that it's real… that ghosts… that souls exist… it helps. It seems like we could… move on. I could get reincarnated or whatever. Maybe have another shot at going to space. But… we'd probably never see each other again."

Their voice was thick, the sorrow in it heavy and obvious, pulsating in and out with anxiety. Athena listened quietly, before she reached out and placed her hand atop his. “And that gives you both anxiety…hurts you both to think about, right?” She smiled weakly at him. “It's both a comfort and a pain at the same time. Ghosts are real…you’re real, but the idea of moving on and missing one another is hard to face, yeah?”

Clay nodded, running his fingers nervously through their hair. "It's scary. It hurts. If I left, right now, and came back– he'd be 24 years older than me. If he recognized me. If I recognized him. If his life still had room for me. If we hadn't both changed beyond–"

Tears had beaded up in their eyes and spilled over across their cheeks. Clay stopped talking abruptly, and Athena watched them put their arms around themselves tightly again.

"Hey, hey hey, no–" when they spoke again Athena knew it was Apollo. "Of course we'd know each other…" Athena bit her lip, her hands folding together on the tabletop. She’d reached out to try putting a comforting hand on their shoulder, but when they moved to hug themselves, it faltered and rested on the tabletop instead. “You two really do love one another,don’t you?” she asked in a quiet voice.

"Guess the secret's out," Apollo murmured. He sniffled and wiped their eyes, grabbing a napkin to mop up the tears. "Sorry, Athena. We're a mess." Athena’s eyes were welling up with sympathetic tears “it’s okay..I mean…it..it’s been a hell of a week Apollo. Sorry…I, I could tell whenever you talked about him. I just didn’t want to say…”

"Yeah." He took a shuddering breath and tried to still their tears. He gave her a wan smile, his sadness tinged with embarrassment. "Probably wasn't as subtle as I should have been the last week or so. Did a good job keeping it out of the office though, I guess. Trucy was shocked when I told her." “I think you did a pretty good job, even if it’s sad you felt you had to..” Athena gave him a sympathetic grin. “I could only tell because I could hear the emotions in your voice…it’s no wonder Trucy was taken by surprise.”

"Yeah," he nodded again. "Can't hide anything from you, huh, Athena? Thanks for being understanding." “It’s my blessing and my curse.” she chuckled quietly before she shook her head. “...I get it. I understand it…love is complicated, especially when souls, the living and the dead are entwined…it’s only natural to feel difficult emotions at this time..” ”

"I don't know what we're gonna do, Athena. The idea of letting go is so hard. But Clay keeps worrying about 'ruining' me, or 'taking over my life'. " “Are you worried he’ll ‘ruin you’ or take over your life?” Athena asked as she leaned on her hands. “Either way…you have time. A year, at least, to try and sort through your feelings on it. You can take a little time to process this.”

"I'm not worried about it at all," he said. His voice was shaking and he dabbed at his eyes with the wet napkin again. "I know you probably don't have a lot of experience with love yet, Athena, but sometimes when you're together, there's a moment when you're close– laying in bed, or watching the stars, or just holding each other– and it feels like there's absolutely nothing separating the two of you at all. I think… maybe it would be like that. Forever."

He twisted the abused napkin back and forth in his fingers as he spoke. Tears rolled down Athena’s face as she stifled a soft hiccup…both the backwash of Apollo’s emotions, and the description tugging at the strange beat of her heart. It was beautiful, it was heartbreaking how much they loved one another. It was true, she didn’t have much experience with love…not direct experience, not yet…but she could understand the sentiment as it pounded in her chest. “Beautiful.” She whispered “that’s…that’s beautiful, Apollo…m-maybe it would be.”

He bobbed his head bashfully and gave her a teary smile. "Thanks, Athena. A-anyway, you're right. No matter what happens, we have time. It's not something that's going to happen or not right now." “Exactly.” She sniffed again, and wiped at her eyes. “For now…just try to relax knowing you’ve got one another in there..and…and take it one step at a time. I’m gonna support you with everything I’ve got…”

"It means a lot." He reached across the table for her hand this time. "I feel like we… sure learned a lot in the last couple of hours." She took his hand and gave it a firm squeeze “We did, a whole heck of a lot, really…ghosts, my mother, Kelso, you and Clay…we actually met Miss Mia, the legend of the office…”

"We sure did," he said, squeezing her hand back in turn. "I feel like I can see the impact she had on the boss, just from those few minutes. But…" “But…?” Athena tilted her head to the side.

He shook his head, hand still entwined with hers. He murmured quietly. "What she said about them– the spies, the 'assets'-- that was…. pretty fucked up." Athena nodded slowly.

“Y-yeah.” she bit her lip “I’ll be honest that’s basically what I was getting too…what was done to them, it was done to make them as little of a person someone could be before they simply perished. It’s…it’s no surprise it makes them perfect hosts for sharing space with a spirit.” Her voice cracked softly, hushed and low so nobody could hear but them. “They’re tragic…genuine victims in all this…I got the sense when I talked to Robert for the first time…and then later saw that interview with 24…”

"We're still angry," they said. "I don't know if we're ever not going to be but– the idea that they literally had their souls broken by what they went through? I don't– I can't even comprehend it. You can tell the Ph– you can tell Halblicht that he doesn't have to worry about us coming after her again or anything. Especially since he's got the real Fulbright in there breathing down his neck." “I’ll tell him..” Athena squeezed his hand as more tears began to drop down her already tear-streaked face. Her breath shuddered. “I can’t blame you for being angry, he took a lot from you but.. It was bad enough when I thought it was just his mind that was broken…but these people are pruning and shattering souls to …to make weapons they can point and shoot. There’s no justice in that…no possible excuse they could make to justify it. It’s…it’s inhuman.” She sniffed “...I like Robert, Apollo. I’m sorry, but he…I want to see him become a person in his own right, and for Bobby to help him find balance.”

Their hand trembled against hers, but they squeezed her hand again.

"I can't say I get it, Athena, but, I guess that's good. Maybe it'll help make sure no one else suffers the way we did because of him. And hopefully we can get to the top of the chain, and shut the whole thing down." Athena nodded.

“With his help, and…and Miss Kelso, or 24’s help? I think we can manage…we have to.” She smiled nervously at him as her fingers gave his hand a tight squeeze. “He won’t hurt anyone else…and neither will that horrible organization by the time we’re done with them.”

"Good. That's all we can ask. And you'll have our help to do it."

She smiled at them. “Thanks guys. I care about you a lot. So…let’s help one another till the bitter end.” She snapped a salute. “Nobody's a match for us!”

December 25, 7:15 pm

When they were done at the precinct, to Halblict's surprise, Simon had declined a ride back to the hotel from Agent Badd and called a taxi himself instead.

"I'm hungry," he growled. "And I'd prefer to avoid the hotel restaurant tonight. Besides…"

Simon gave them an appraising look, with a sly smile on his face.

Robert had no idea what he might be thinking. "Besides?"

"We've never been on a proper date– have we? And no– the aquarium doesn't quite count."

The sudden rush of joy and excitement from Bobby practically knocked Robert over in their shared mental space as he rushed forward.

"A date, Simon?" Bobby grinned, leaning shoulder to shoulder with him with stars in his eyes as they walked out of the precinct.. "You don't think… that'll be a problem?"

Simon leaned against the exterior of the building just outside the reach of the streetlamps as he waited for their taxi to arrive, and Bobby went to lean beside him, cocking his head curiously.

"I don't see why it would be?" Simon shrugged. "We don't have any pressing reason to get back to the hotel immediately."

Bobby shifted uncomfortably. "Ah, I more meant…"

I can't believe you're still uncomfortable with this, Bobby.

I know it doesn't make a difference to you, Robert, but I was raised to believe it wasn't done, you know? It's looked down on for a man and another man to be… seen being intimate.

And I was trained to understand that homosexual desire was a significant, if taboo reality, and how to use that behavior to my advantage. Do you believe that either of the things we were taught are correct?

Well…I mean…

"Meant what, Fool Bright?" Simon snapped, and for a second Bobby thought that he had somehow overheard his internal conversation, before he remembered where he'd trailed off.

He flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "You wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen out with me, sir? Given that we're both men?"

Simon scoffed loudly, and Taka made a startled noise on his arm. "Bobby, you being a man isn't even in the top three reasons to be embarrassed to be seen out with you."

Bobby flushed even brighter. "Sir…"

He's got you there, doesn't he?

Simon leaned over, shoulder to shoulder with the two of them. "I'm joking, detective. Obviously I'm not embarrassed to be around you. Do I strike you as a man who has any shame whatsoever?"

Bobby laughed softly. "I don't know how to answer that, sir," he said, nervously wringing his hands together.

"The answer is that I am not, detective. I don't give a damn what speculation or assumptions people make about me, right or wrong. What matters to me is who I am, not how people perceive me. But if the two of you would prefer not to be perceived, I suppose I can accommodate you."

Bobby could tell that Simon wasn't pleased with the idea, and while he was feeling ashamed of it, Robert rushed past him.

"No." Robert's voice was thick with firm insistence that Bobby rarely felt from him, and he put his arm around Simon.

Simon raised his eyebrow, his lips drawn. "Robert?" he hesitated.

He nodded. "Yes, it's me. Bobby was raised with a lot of shame around homosexual relationships. I have no such compunction, as you might expect. So I'm not interested in changing your preferred behavior."

Simon leaned back against him, but frowned. "I'd rather not make Bobby uncomfortable, either."

"I'm not uncomfortable, per se," Bobby murmured. His fingers ran up and down Simon's arm as he fidgeted. "I just don't have any experience with openly dating."

It's not as if I have any experience with it either, Bobby.

"Well, it's easy enough to ask your preference then," Simon huffed. "Would you like to have experience openly dating, or would you prefer to preserve your reputation?"

He flushed hotly. "It's not as if I really have one to preserve anyway. It's not like my parents are going to find out or something. So… if you don't mind being open with me, sir, then that's what I'd like to do."

"Good!" Simon grinned and leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Let's have a scandal, then."

He seems excited about it, doesn't he, Bobby?

I think he thinks it's romantic…

Is it?

Bobby smiled, and agreed out loud. "It is pretty romantic."

"I'm thrilled that you agree."

#apollo justice #athena cykes #bobby fulbright #simon blackquill #ema skye #trucy wright #blackbright #phantomquill #ace attorney #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #archive of our own #ao3 #fic: in justice we trust

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