#anyway. I tried to put ghosts in the background but they would not turn out so just imagine that Vriska is getting tormented by ghosts

[forgetful-river]

No rest for the wicked I suppose

[guardkeywolf]

Don't mind me requesting again cuz your writing is good-

Anyway I need some older male reader that is team GHOST from call of duty ghosts and his team is fucking chaotic like they be almost killing them self's and one of them do stabby another like blowing shit up while male reader don't get enough sleep and be a dad on his team but in the end they get the job done

I just want 141 to meet male readers team during a mission and all of them see his team jumping out a window lol

I just need some chaotic shit

Ghost Soldier!Male Reader + Task Force 141

WARNING: INCREDIBLY CRINGE WRITING

While Captain Y/n is on a mission with his team, they are interrupted...

What matters most though is if they are friend or foe...

Honestly, trying to put a whole scenario like this together was fun and challenging at the same time but worth it @gamersansblog !!!

So I hope you enjoy!

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"Midnight, Hawk, do either of you have eyes on the target yet?" Y/n asked as he let his eyes sweep over the contents in the room. Falcon followed behind him, silently with his gun raised, clearing the room himself before rejoining Y/n's side.

"No sir, not yet," Midnight's heavy feminine voice replied through the radio.

"Just a whole bunch of shit in here, Captain, unless..." Hawk drawed out slowly.

Y/n knew that tone and quickly tried to intervene, "Hawk, I swear if do what I think..."

"Calm down, sir. Why don't we just turn this place inside out?"

"Hawk..." Falcon warned from beside Y/n as he watched his Captain let out a long sigh in front of him.

"Just a little demolition, sir. That's all... it's not like anyone knows we're here anyway. With the guards dead, I doubt we'll be interrupted, " Y/n could have swore he aged faster as he listened to Hawk's suggestion.

Honestly, Y/n was too tired for this shit. It felt like he was baby sitting 3 kids and he couldn't help but wonder if other groups dealt with the same thing.

There mission was simple, take out the guards, retrieve the files, and get out. Really simple shit. Y/n could do it in his sleep if he wanted too. But noooo, the Higher Ups just had to say his team needed to be with him for this operation.

Plus, Y/n doubted that Falcon could deal with all of them if Y/n left him alone with Midnight and Hawk. So he was forced to bring his crazy pyromaniac of a man, the little assassin that would kill just about anything even when Y/n told her not to, and his only good child.

God, being a father of a Ghost Team was hard.

But even so, Y/n wouldn't change it for the world. His team was just about the best thing that ever happened to him and his career. They were his second chance, his redemption. His everything...

"Alright, Hawk, set up those explosives and see if you can find anything. Midnight, watch his back. Falcon and I are gonna make our way over there..." Y/n commanded.

"Understood, sir," and in the background, he could hear Hawk's sinister little giggle and shook his head at his soldier's antics.

"You sure this is the best idea, sir?" Falcon looked worried about this and Y/n didn't blame him for it. They both knew Hawk could go too far when it came to blowing up things.

Last time they left him alone, half of a building managed to disappear.

Y/n shook his head at the thought, not wanting to even remember that mission again.

When he caught sight of Midnight, the woman was throwing her knives at some random crate she was using as target practice.

"Midnight, Y/n told you to stop doing that. You're gonna mess up your knives and then cry about needing to get new ones," Falcon stressed.

Midnight stuck her tongue out at the man and Y/n chuckled.

"Come on Captain tell her!" Falcon pleaded.

Y/n ignored it and looked towards Hawk.

"You ready Hawk?"

"Annnnnd FINISHED!" the man exclaimed happily as he put the last finishing touches on the bomb.

"Good... get ready to...the hell is that sound?" Y/n turned to see a drone watching them outside the window.

"Shit... someone else is here... we're leaving NOW!" Y/n yelled as he made his way to the windows with their repel gear.

"WHO THE HELL ARE THEY?!" Midnight bellowed next to him.

"Doesn't matter! Hawk on my signal you blow this place to hell!"

"What about the files?!" Hawk asked.

"The Captain and I got them on our way to you two! Now hurry your ass up and get ready to repel!" Falcon hollered at him, quickly putting his gear on.

Once they were ready, Y/n didn't take the chance of the enemy spotting them from the window. If anything, these guys were definitely professionals and had yet to show themselves but it didn't bother Y/n one bit. He knew his team was just as good.

So, he turned to the other window, pulling out his P226 and aiming it at the window.

"Hawk, you remember that scene from Fast and Furious where they jumped from building to building?" Y/n asked.

"Yeah, but we don't have a supercar, sir!"

"Well we can try!" Y/n began to run towards the window, shooting it multiple times until to burst into glass shards and they all jumped out.

"NOW HAWK!"

Y/n heard that lovely sound of the explosion going off behind him as they landed on the roof.

"Hell yeah!" Hawk whooped from beside him.

"We can celebrate later...we still need to find who else is here."

Y/n turned to Midnight first.

"I got an idea..."

"Sir?" She tilted her head in curiosity.

"You see anyone even hostile take them out. Hawk fill this place with traps, take Falcon with you."

Hawk nodded and tapped Falcon's arm before leading them away from Y/n and Midnight.

"Alright, let's go see who the hell were dealing with..."

Midnight sent Y/n a smirk as Y/n moved to take point and as they set out to find the intruders.

It didn't take long when they both heard a cry that only Hawk could make and quickly ran towards his yells. Y/n told Midnight to hide the in the grass, dropping into the dirt himself and aiming his rifle at the newfound men that had Hawk and Falcon in their custody.

He heard the gruff British man's voice question who Hawk was working with, who their team was, but Hawk wasn't one to talk.

Y/n made sure personally that they would never talk. He put then through the same exact situation he had been in now. Cornered by the enemy but except this time not alone.

"Midnight, stay down unless shots are fired. Got it?"

She nodded at him before popping up out of the grass.

"I wouldn't move it I were you..."

The men all turned back to him, guns drawn on him while he held his Honey Badger tightly to his chest.

"Who the hell are you?" The man in the skull mask questioned.

Y/n gave him a look before turning back to the man with the fisher hat on.

"You plan on fishing for my soldiers..." he drawed off.

"Captain Price." He answered.

"Ah...I've heard of you... You and your little Task Force. What was it...141, right?"

"Ye now who the hell are you?" He watched the man's grip tighten on his own gun.

"Captain Y/n and you're going to give me back Hawk and Falcon now." Y/n demanded.

"How do I-" he was cut off by another voice going through his radio.

"Yeah but-... Are you sure, Laswell?"

Y/n looked up when he heard Kate's last name leave the older Brits lips.

"You familiar with Laswell?" Y/n asked as he watched the men untie Hawk and Falcon.

"Seems so...and it seems she knows you as well..." Price commented as he watched Hawk and Falcon walk back to Y/n's side.

"Sir, are you sure Laswell said they're green?" The dark skin man asked the Captian.

"I doubt Laswell would lie to us Gaz. That goes for you two as well," Price said, turning to the skull masked man and the slightly shorter man standing next to him.

"So that's a infamous Ghost...I thought he be taller," Hawk.

"He lots pretty damn tall to me, considering he's standing near shortstack over there..." Falcon said.

The shorter man sent him a glare, obviously hearing Falcon's comment, but before he could say anything, Ghost pulled him back.

"He's not worth it, Soap."

Y/n heard a Scottish accent come from the man as he watched the two talk.

"Oh, sir... You should probably tell-" Falcon was too late to warn him when Midnight sprang up from behind Ghost and Soap.

Y/n sent her the scariest death glare in history before the woman's knife even made it near the two men. Only then did Ghost realize Y/n was glaring but not at him and turned around only to see nothing there. When he turned back, there was now a third soldier standing near him that wasn't there.

"Who she?" He cocked his head towards her.

"Midnight." and he left it there.

Price turned to look at them apologetically before letting out a long sigh.

"Sorry about the mishaps, mates. Seems we got you mixed up with someone else, by the way... you know who blew up that building?"

"We did," Y/n said quickly, watching the man's face change to confusion.

"Why did you-"

"Sorry, but we're kinda on a tight schedule so we'll see yall again sometime soon yeah? Nice meeting you, Captain and your team. Lovely bunch, really! Sir, we have go to go." Falcon said as he pulled Y/n away, the man shaking his own head and chuckling himself, with the other two laughing.

"Kids am I right?" Y/n shouted as he sent a quick nod to the Captain before turning to greet his own team as they made their way towards exfil.

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-Guards

[dronebiscuitbat]

Give me a Reason: Chapter 17 - "Thad"

Computer Literacy was blessedly easy at least, she thought as she stumbled into the classroom, taking a steadying breath.

Her eyes almost automatically glanced up at N, who had nearly always given her a wave when he saw her enter, though today it looked like he was completely absorbed in conversation with someone else, a boy in a red backwards hat, brown peeking out from underneath it. Who was leaning on the back of her usual seat with his arms crossed.

She warily approached, was she going to have to find somewhere else to sit? There were a couple of others still free but, her and N were partners, how would they still work together?

She ignored the second train of thought, the one that was making her heart ache slightly at the prospect of having to go elsewhere, bring replaced by a more interesting friend so easily.

But, she didn't even have time to question it before N noticed her, and he gave her a radiant smile. “Hey Uzi! Sorry Thad, that's her seat your leaning on.”

The boy looked back at her, his eyes a dull green, like grass that had been shocked with weedkiller. A sports jacket clung to his shoulders, ‘Copper Football Team’ emblazoned on the front in yellow letters.

“Oh Hey, I'm Thad, sorry for taking your seat.” He moved off the back of her chair, dunking his hands in his pockets as he smiled, it was friendly, not as bright as N's but still warm and inviting.

“It's… fine.” She said awkwardly, in no real mood to socialize with the pain in her side.

“N said you two went ghost hunting last weekend. It's Gnarly, you two are braver then I am. I still get scared by the raccoon that lives under my house.”

Uzi blinked, taking a moment to register that she was being talked to, and a second more for her to realize it wasn't negative.

“Oh uh- Yeah, we did.” Uzi replied after a moment of struggling to bend down to put her backpack under the table, she didn't catch the way N looked at her worried lying when she flinched. “I wouldn't call N brave though, he got scared of an itty bitty spider, hehehe.”

“Hey!” N protested, pouting but not in a way that suggested he was actually upset.

“Aw she exposed you dude!” Thad laughed, but his attention was quickly back on her. “You're Uzi right? N mentioned your name, it's super badass. I wish I shared my name with a gun.”

Uzi felt herself blush, still not used to being complimented. And she couldn't really find the words to say to it either.

“I don't think Thad's a bad name.” N came to her rescue, thankfully. And Thad looked at him deadpan.

“When you find any character named “Thaddeus McFlynn” who isn't just in the background, or doesn't die a horrible death. Let me know.”

Uzi winced, man had a name like an old british man. She didn't envy him. N just shrugged.

“Anyway, I gotta get back to class, coach will chew my ass if I'm gone too long, I just came here to pick up his prints.” He picked up a stack of what looked like sign up papers, and turned back at N.

“Hey, I'm serious about signing up for one of our teams, you'd be great!” Thad gave him a finger gun and Uzi a small salute before he left the classroom, Uzi watching as he left.

N didn't really reply to that, just looked a little sad before shaking his head and returning all his attention to Uzi.

“Sorry about that. He was talking about me joining the basketball team since I'm so tall, then we somehow got onto what we did over the weekend and… yeah.” He rambled, but Uzi just nodded softly, it wasn't like she was expecting to remain N's only freind or anything, not with his personality. It's what she expected… honestly.

“It's fine.” How much had she said that today? It felt like a lot, her side throbbed uncomfortably as she tried to adjust.

“Hey uh. I know you told me to stop asking. And I promise I totally am, but… are you okay, you've looked uncomfortable all day.” He spoke up again after a second, and Uzi felt every single muscle in her body tense up, she was fine. She'd been through worse, way worse.

She turned to glare at him, words of vitriol bubbling up in her throat, but she only halfway opened her mouth before his soft, warm expression made them die into nothing, a gentle smile worn on his face and genuine concern behind those caramel eyes.

She sighed.

“I'm fine, really, just… had a run in with someone. I've been through worse.”

“Oh… well um…” N really didn't know how to help, that answer was… vague at best. But he didn't want to scare her off from opening up more by pushing her. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

She looked at him for a beat, taking in his nervous smile.

“No.” She replied simply, and the window he'd had was abruptly shut in his face. His smile fell a little.

“You can keep distracting me though. That's helping.” She added after a minute, and his head snapped back up, she was avoiding his eyes, but he caught a small smile gracing her face.

And with another brilliant smile, thats what he did, dragging her into a conversation about dogs that she did her best to listen intently to, the pain being slightly buried under the weight of his voice.

When it was finally time to go home, Uzi was bracing herself on one of the brick pillars in front of the building, knowing all she needed was to walk home and she could treat herself with some sweet, sweet painkillers. It was just… actually getting there that was going to be the difficult part.

It wasn't that far away, but with how difficult walking had become, she knew it was going to be complete and total agnoy. Stalling, she was stalling.

What were the chances of her dad actually being home for once to drive her back? Probably slim to none, but… she could check.

She pulled out her phone, Khan being the first name in her contacts, the second, and last, being N.

Uzi: Hey Dad, just wondering if u could pick me up from school today.

She stared at the messaging app for almost a full minute with no response before she grumbled, leaning against the brick and closing her eyes for a moment.

When she did eventually bring her head back up, she realized that she'd been standing against the pillar for way too long, the second wave of busses already on their way out, meaning she'd been there for at least ten minutes.

Maybe she was in more pain than she thought…

“Uzi?” A voice caught her attention, and she spun around to be face to face with N's stupidly tall figure, Thad was right… he would be good for basketball.

She was starting to feel warm, and slightly nauseous, neither were any good signs, bit both she ignored.

“O-oh hey N.” Shit, her voice was a little shaky now too, she placed a palm onto the brick behind her, feeling a bit like she might pass out. Crap, that probably meant Lizzy pinched something in her somewhere, that was great.

“I thought you would've left already. Don't you walk home?” One of his brows were raised, he looked behind her, Tessa had pulled in and was waiting for him.

“Just… enjoying the day…?”

“Why did that sound like a question?” He asked, clearly not believing her in the slightest. Uzi blinked, trying to stifle the painful tremble in her voice.

“It didn't.” She tried, trying to begin to walk away, only to stumble and nearly trip over nothing.

Fuck

“Woah hey! Uzi!” His hands were on her now, she didn't want them to be, she didn't want to be seen as weak, but her stupid body had at this point completely betrayed her, she felt the bile begin to burn it's way into her throat.

Oh shit not he-

She scrambled over to the nearest bush, throwing his hands off her and completely emptied her bruised stomach, holding onto one of those weird round concrete nubs for support.

When she finished, she shakily stood up, wiping her mouth, a small amount of blood coming off onto the back of her hand.

Still… she did feel marginally better.

N was behind her, looking between Tessa's car and her franticly, a hand gently resting on her back. She tried to catch her breath.

She heard a car door slam and rushing footsteps coming her direction before light invaded her vision

I'm about to pass out…

She thought before she felt herself begin to slowly fall backwards, before all her senses went to static…

Next ->

[ficmashup]

Learning

Summary: You join TF141 after something happened on your last deployment. They take you in and while it takes some time, you find yourself warming up to them, and them to you. Perhaps especially to the Captain.

A/N: Hello, my sweet darlings. This one is pretty indulgent and I'm sorry it's so short! It just had to be this way and I couldn't fit it anywhere else, so I decided to just go with it. I have a vague idea of where I'm going, but no promises. ;) Hey, a summary! Will probably go back and do specific summaries, but for now this is good enough. Thanks for reading! <3

Warnings: As always with this fic, vague references of SA, crass language, talk of injuries, honestly a sickening amount of fluff.

Word Count: 2.4k (Short, I know! Sorry!)

Feral Masterlist

I don’t leave Soap’s side as he recovers. Thankfully, the infection isn’t a bad one and the fever breaks in a couple days. I keep him in the infirmary for one more day and threaten Soap with more if he so much as puts a foot on the floor. “And what about you, lass? You look dead on your feet.” He looks at me pointedly while I resist sticking my tongue out at him like a child.

“’M not on my feet.” I object as I settle back into my chair with a yawn, Ghost’s jacket dwarfing me as I tug it on. He’d visited and hadn’t reclaimed it yet, so it’s my personal blanket for now. I’d like to wash it before I give it back anyway. The boys had each tried to convince me to head back to my room, but I hadn’t given in yet. Price hadn’t ordered me away, so I figured I had a little more time. “Said I’d stay until you’re well. I keep my word.”

“I’m well enough, G. You’re discharging me tomorrow. Come on, go get some real sleep in your own bed.” Soap pushes and I shake my head, resting it back against the chair as my eyes close.

“About to get some sleep right here, right now.” I open an eye to peak at him and point an accusatory finger at him. “Remember that the other nurses will tell me if you move.” They were the ones who had to treat the soldiers I fought when I first got here. They wouldn’t lie for him. Not to me, anyway. Soap rolls his eyes with a huff before my eyes shut again. I’m nearly asleep when I hear the familiar scuff of boots stopping next to me and I look up a bit blearily.

“I’m relieving you tonight, soldier.” Price’s voice wakes me up a bit more and I wipe a hand over my eyes as my brows furrow.

“That’s not necessary, sir. It’s my job.” I sit up a bit more, pulling the sleeves of Ghost’s jacket up so my hands are free.

“And it’s my job to see to the welfare of my team.” He points out as his fingers curl in a gesture for me to get up. I rise with a small huff and keep a hand on the arm of the chair to keep myself steady. My lips part to object again, but Price steps a bit closer and bends down a bit so only I can hear his words. “You’ve done a hell of a job looking after Johnny. Time you looked after yourself.” He holds my gaze for a moment, his hand reaching out to lightly squeeze my shoulder in his usual method of encouragement. A little smile creeps onto my face at the feeling, at knowing him well enough to see that.

I heave a breath. I’m being overprotective, possessive, as Soap would put it. Certain memories stick in my mind despite the fact that Soap isn’t me and I didn’t have a team like this the last place I was in. “You’ll send for me if something happens?” I allow at last and ignore Soap’s slack-jawed look. A few words from Price can get me to leave, but an hour-long argument with him and the others didn’t so much as get me to budge. Well. Price knows why I’m reticent.

Price nods without hesitation. “You’ll be the first to know. I won’t leave until you discharge him tomorrow.” My jaw locks as I consider it for a few moments before nodding my agreement. Price squeezes my shoulder again in acknowledgement of how difficult this is for me even though we both know I’m using my background as a basis, rather than logic. He turns towards the chair and this time I’m the one who reaches out, my fingers sliding over his hand on my shoulder. He turns back towards me and I soak in his pretty blue eyes.

“Thank you.” The words are quiet, but firm and full of sincerity. His gaze softens in that sweet way they sometimes do and his hand turns, his fingers brushing mine before both our hands drop.

“You’re welcome.” He responds just as quietly before I turn to Soap who is blinking as if worried he’s hallucinating.

“Remember the nurses know my orders and won’t hesitate to snitch on you to Price.” I pin him to the bed with my gaze before he holds up his hands in surrender. My feet carry me out of the infirmary before I can change my mind and I sigh entering my room. I barely have the energy to kick off my boots before I collapse onto my bed and instantly fall asleep.

*     *     *

I’ve no clue what time it is when I wake up. It’s still dark out, that’s clear to see, and I’m groggy as hell. A quick glance at my phone reveals that it’s two a.m. and my stomach gurgles loudly. Sighing, I slide out of bed and rustle around my bags before finding a granola bar that I immediately shove in my mouth. It’ll tide me over until I somehow find some more food. Half-asleep, I shrug Ghost’s jacket on and drape a blanket around me as I head out towards the mess hall. I pass by the infirmary and slow down a little, then decide to duck in for just a second. They usually have some good rations hidden away anyway.

A soft smile comes to my face as I see the boys exactly where I left them. Soap is asleep with some drool coming out of his mouth and Price is sleeping in the chair next to him, his hat pulled low over his face and his feet propped up next to Soap’s on the bed. I creep in and ignore the scolding look the on-duty nurse gives me as I walk over to them. Something in my chest eases seeing everything is alright without me.

Carefully, I drape my body warmed blanket over Price and he doesn’t move a muscle except for the steady up and down of his chest as he breathes. There are a few cups of pudding next to Soap’s bed and I happily scoop one up and open it with a little crinkling sound from the packaging. “Couldn’t resist?” I freeze at the gruff voice and see the corner of Price’s mouth lift as he reaches up to set his hat properly on his head so he can look at me. I smile sheepishly at him.

“Got a bit hungry. The infirmary always has the good snacks.” I tell him honestly and he quirks a skeptical eyebrow at me. “And I may have wanted to check in while I was out. Didn’t mean to wake you, Price.”

He shakes his head, that near smile still on his face. “I’m impressed you made it this long, actually.” He sits up and moves his feet onto the floor, cracking his neck with a heavy sigh. I smirk a little as he moves. That chair isn’t that comfortable and no one knows that more than me. I grab another pudding cup and spoon before offering both to him. He glances at them, then to me, then takes them while I grin.

“I swear I would’ve made it until tomorrow if I hadn’t gotten hungry.” I say softly while we both eat the pudding. Chocolate. It’s not too bad for military rations.

Price hums in amusement. “Should’ve made you eat something before I sent you off. Should’ve also gotten you a better chair to sleep in while you looked after Johnny. This thing is a fuckin’ nightmare.” He kicks the leg of the chair he’s in with his heel and I giggle, short and sweet. His eyes crinkle slightly as he smiles at me and I feel something in me soften. He really cares about his team. Which includes me now, I suppose. That’s why he stayed here tonight, not to watch Soap, but to put my mind at ease.

“You don’t have to stay here the rest of the night, Captain. Soap seems well looked after.” I say quietly and he raises his brows.

“You sure about that?” He asks and I nod.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” I spare Soap a look and take a breath as I feel doubt creeping up into my throat. Soap isn’t me and the situations are completely different. Time to move forward. “I’ll walk you out.” I turn back to Price and I’m struck dumb with the pride in his gaze.

He nods slowly, considering me a moment longer before he agrees and lays the blanket I put over him onto Soap’s bed. “Alright.” He stands and I put a hand over my mouth as he groans softly while stretching. Those lovely eyes shoot daggers at the chair behind him. “Remind me to burn that chair.”

“Yes, sir.” There’s amusement in my voice and he gives me a look that tells me he knows I’m laughing at him. He doesn’t call me out on it though and merely smirks as I take another pudding cup to eat as we quietly leave the infirmary.

“Lucky you got the soft introduction to treating the team when we’re injured.” Price says as we walk slowly through the halls. Our pace is a tad slower, but I don’t mind spending a little extra time talking with Price. He goes on, “Soap and Gaz aren’t too bad. Johnny gets a bit restless, but he’s not too bad. Gaz is a smartass and tends to hide how bad things are with humor. You have to push a bit or he has to trust you enough to be straight with you. And Ghost…” He trails off and reaches up to wipe a hand over his facial hair, shaking his head.

“Difficult one, hm?” It’s not a surprise to me. Ghost seems as likely to trust others as I am and that’s not much.

Price sighs as we come to a stop outside my room and turn to face one another. “He’s a stubborn bastard. Won’t tell you something’s wrong unless he’s bleeding out.”

I grimace, but make a mental note of the fact. “Okay. I’ll keep an eye out.” Because I know he’s not telling me this simply to talk. Price isn’t the time of man to do things idly. He’s giving me a lot of trust by letting me into his team, trusting me to take care of them to the best of my ability. The relationship between a medic and a captain can make or break a team. It’s up to both of us, him giving the orders and me patching everyone up, to keep everyone whole and safe.

He nods and there isn’t any doubt in his eyes. “I know you will. You’re a hell of a medic.” He glances down to Ghost’s jacket still wrapped around me and I tug a bit on the sleeves while he smiles. “You’ve made real strides with this team in a short amount of time. That’s nothing to scoff at.”

“You all welcomed me too.” I point out, holding out my hands that are half hidden in Ghost’s jacket to prove a point. “Despite my…less than warm attitude.”

Price hums in amusement. “You did better than you think. Ghost didn’t answer anyone but me with anything other than grunts the first two months he was here.”

I laugh softly. “Really?”

“Told you he was a stubborn bastard.” Price confirms with a warm smile on his face. “Soap was the one to eventually break him down. Took a while though.” I lean back against the door frame of my room as I hear the thinly veiled comfort in his words. He’s saying it’s okay that it’s taking me a while too.

I hesitate a moment, then decide to go for it. “Ghost told me that you kept my file to yourself. I appreciate that.” My eyes hold his as I speak so he can see the genuine gratefulness in my gaze.

He nods, not having to think about it for a second. “No thanks needed. I figured you would tell who you wanted when you wanted.”

“Well, my preferred answer to that would be no one and never, but apparently that’s bad for my mental health.” We both chuckle before his stance softens a touch and he shifts towards me despite not taking a step closer.

“You’re a tough soldier, I know you know that. I’m glad to have been able to give you a place here. Give you a team that actually deserves you.” I’m caught in his eyes for a moment, in the absolute certainty in his voice that I’m a good fit for the team that he holds in such high esteem. His team.

I smile, glancing down at the floor a moment while my head shakes. “You’re a really fucking good captain, you know that?” My compliment isn’t as smooth or deft as his, but it’s sincere. Our gazes meet again and he looks a bit taken aback, then a surprised smile takes over his face. He chuckles softly and the sound is warm like a glass of whiskey.

“Don’t know about that. I try.” He says, reaching up and lifting his hat to rub a hand over his head, then putting the hat back on. I smile a tiny bit. Is he…flustered?

“No, I’m telling you. As a member of your team. You’re a good captain.” I don’t give him time to brush it off as I reach out and squeeze his bicep with a little smirk on my face at turning his habit back around on him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I open the door to my room and take in that sweet, soft look in his eyes.

“Tomorrow.” He tips his hat and I can’t stop my wide grin as he pauses, second guessing the movement before he shakes his head. I watch him walk away before one more thing pops into my head.

“You never said how you are when you’re injured.” I call out and he turns back to me with a half-shrug and mischevious smile.

“Insufferable.” He responds and leaves me with a smile on my face. I hold his cigar box as I sleep, but it’s for a little more than chasing away nightmares…

Taglist (hi! it's so nice having so many people wanting to be tagged! Thanks for being interested! If anyone else wants to be tagged, lmk);

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas @cherry-blosom-tree

@thriving-n-jiving @jinxxangel13

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

TW: Breakups, TW: Heartbreak, TW: Emotional Turmoil, TW: Grief, TW: Dissociation, TW: Panic Attacks, TW: Using Violence as a Coping Mechanism, Distraught König, Distraught Reader, Supportive Ghost, Supportive 141

This chapter is pain, I won't deny it. If you want to increase that pain level (you sick little rascal lol), play "Come Back To Us" by Thomas Newman in the background as you read. That's what I listened to as I wrote it.

(Also, I've added a more serious note at the end of the chapter because a lot has been on my mind. It's very personal and raw, but I just need to say it. And since it impacted how frequently I updated this ending, I thought my readers deserved to know what's going on. So I'll leave that there for you to look through after the chapter.)

Reader POV:

Both you and Ghost froze in place. And for a moment, it felt as if time had come to a screeching halt. Your mouth opened and closed as you frantically searched for something to say. Anything to tell him to set him at ease. But the panic that had been slowly building all this time had reached its maximum. No words came out because you couldn’t find a single one. All you could do was sit there trembling and trying not to cry.

“Easy, König,” Ghost said carefully, resituating his clothes before raising his hands. Every move he made was painfully slow as he tried to cool König’s building temper “It’s not what it looks like.”

“You think I’m a fool?” König screamed, lunging at him. “I trusted you! But I turn my back for five seconds and you put your filthy hands on my Maus? You try to take her away from me?”

You cowered, afraid König would barrel into you as he charged at Ghost. But all you felt was a rush of air across your skin as König rushed past you towards his chosen target. Ghost retreated. He tried to dodge. But in the confined space, there was just nowhere for him to go. You heard a sickening thud as König’s fist collided with Ghost’s face. But Ghost wasn’t putting up a fight. Having faced off with him yourself, you knew he could have done so easily and likely won in the end. But though his fists clenched at his sides and he grunted in pain, he didn’t strike back. And he maintained his uncharacteristically peaceful approach as König seized him by the throat.

“Give me one reason,” König hissed, slamming Ghost against the wall so hard you were surprised he didn’t break clean through. “One reason I shouldn’t kill you where you stand. Even then, I just might anyway.”

“König, don’t!” You screamed, begging for the chaos to just stop. “Please!”

But your pleas fell on deaf ears. Ghost wheezed, gasping for breath. But he didn’t claw at König’s hand or try to push him off. From your place on the floor, you saw his eyes maintaining steady contact with König’s murderous glare. And for half a second, his eyes flicked down to where you sat.

“Don’t fucking look at her!” König roared, tightening his hold. “You look at me and you answer me!”

Ghost obediently averted his gaze. But when he spoke, you knew he was talking directly to you.

“Tell him,” he forced the words out as his throat threatened to close completely. “Tell-”

“Du Arschloch! Fine, don’t talk. I will enjoy watching the light fade from your eyes.”

You looked on with horror as König drew a knife. And in his current state, you had a sickening feeling it wasn’t just meant as a threat. He was actually going to kill him if you didn’t do something to make him stop. As he raised the point of the blade to Ghost’s throat, you charged at him and pleadingly clutched his leg.

“König, stop! Don’t! Don’t hurt him, I’m begging you!”

He looked down at your pitiful display, confusion flickering through beneath the coursing rage he felt. But he did stop. The knife hovered horrifically close to Ghost’s exposed skin, but it did not advance any further.

“Maus,” he asked, his voice dropping low. “Why are you defending him?”

The level of calmness in his voice was frightening. It reminded you of the serene surface of an ocean, masterfully concealing the deadly rip current that lurked just beneath it and waited to drag unwitting victims to a grisly demise. Your mind whirled as you searched for the right words to say. You’d had so much time to prepare for this and still couldn’t string two words together in a coherent explanation.

“She wants out,” Ghost interceded on your behalf, his words came out choked and strained. “She wants you to let her go so she can be with me!”

Though his eyes narrowed, König didn’t even bother to look at him. He squeezed harder, effectively silencing him as he cut off Ghost’s air supply. But his eyes remained trained on you.

“Tell me he’s lying,” he growled, chest heaving. “Tell me he’s lying and let me rip out his tongue!”

He was begging you to end the nightmare he felt closing in. Pleading with you to ease his deepest fears so he could carry on. But you just couldn’t. There was no going back now. The plate had already begun to fall and there was nothing you could do to soften the blow.

Tears began freely flowing down your face as you began to sob, lowering your head. You couldn’t bear to look at him as your next words tore his heart from his chest. But you nodded, speaking in a small and shaking voice.

“It’s true. König, it’s true and I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You let out a small, startled scream when König lurched towards you. After seeing the fierceness of his anger, you were afraid of what he might do. Behind him, Ghost coughed and gasped for breath as soon as König let him go. And there was a loud thud as König threw the knife across the room, the blade imbedding itself in the wall from the force. He grabbed your shoulders in a near bruising grip, sinking to his knees in front of you and shaking you as if it would bring you to your senses.

“No!” he gasped, still unwilling to believe what he had just heard. “No, you don't mean that! Maus! Tell me you don't mean that!"

"I can't!" You were wailing now, eyes wide in terror. "I-I love him!"

There was no way to twist that raw declaration. There was no going back. It was over. It was done. König recoiled at your words, letting out an audible gasp of pain.

"You used me," he whimpered, his voice dropping again as he tried to make sense of it all. "You used me to get close to him? All this time? Did I ever even mean anything to you?"

"Yes! You did! König, I loved you! More than anything!"

"Loved," he echoed the word with a wince. "I never stood a chance, did I? I thought you were different. I hoped we could- You never loved me!"

His voice rose to a shrill wail as the grief and anger finally hit him in the stomach. You reached out for him out of pure instinct. "König, that's not true! I-"

"Liar!"

He screamed at you, shoving your arm away in disgust. The reaction was so forceful that it sent you tumbling backward onto the floor. You cowered there, scared to move or even breathe. And when you heard a flurry of footsteps rush towards you, you hid your face and braced for impact. But it never came.

Ghost had stumbled forward, hurriedly shoving himself between you and König. He threw up a protective arm, blocking access to you should König attempt to follow.

"Don't," he growled, facing off with König. "If you wanna yell, you yell at me. You wanna hit someone, then you hit me. But you touch her and I will tear you apart."

"You're the only person I have left! You were my only happiness! And I still love you!" König yelled, his voice raw as angry tears began to overflow. "I gave you everything I had! I trusted you and you used it to stab me in the back!"

His words mangled as sobs swiftly replaced them, shaking his whole frame. The sounds of pain and grief that came from his mouth. They were haunting. They were gut-wrenching. They were tortuous to hear.

"I never wanted to hurt you," you cried, desperate to ease his suffering. "I can’t explain how it happened, but it did. I just want you to understand."

"Please," he gasped through his tears. "Bitte- Please don't leave me, Maus. You're the only person I have left. My only happiness. I don't want to understand! I want you to stay!"

"But what about her? What about what she wants?" Ghost seethed, pushing back. There was undeniable anger in his voice, but he still tried his best to be the calmer voice of reason. "You really gonna hold her captive when she wants to go? She deserves to have her needs met. She deserves to be happy! And if you truly love her, you'd want that. Not just for yourself, but for her too."

König went quiet. His eyes were pleading with you, silently screaming for you to wake him from his worst fear. But when you covered your face and just softly wept, something in him changed. His voice went unsettlingly calm. And just like that, he was no longer really there. The only way he could cope with everything he was feeling was to escape. To dissociate and not feel them at all. And though you'd never seen him use it, it was an approach you knew all too well.

"You really mean it," he gasped. "This is really happening. I… I wish to be alone."

You could tell by the sudden coldness in his eyes that he was shutting down. He was forcing his pain into the tiniest corner of his mind. Instead of feeling all of this at once, he'd chosen to just feel nothing at all.

"König, please. I'm- I'm so sorry."

You scrambled to your feet. And before you could think better of it, you pulled him into a tight hug. You held him as if just by the contact, you could somehow shoulder a fraction of his pain. But he didn’t hug you back. He stood there frozen, arms hanging limply at his sides. His gaze was detached and a million miles away. It was clear that he'd completely shut down.

"Don't touch me."

"König, please. Talk to me. Please."

"I said don't touch me!" He snapped, shoving you away from him. "I wish to be alone."

Those were the last words he spoke before storming out of the room. As you watched him go, you moved to run after him. But Ghost held you back with a small shake of his head

"I know you mean well," he murmured sympathetically. "But I wouldn't push him right now. I know, princess. I know."

He pulled you into a gentle hug, stroking your back as you sobbed into his chest. You were free. You had done the deed. But at the moment, joy or relief felt like pipedreams. You'd never hurt anyone like this. And you had hoped to go through life without having to. But here you were, surrounded by the wreckage of a dream lay shattered. You were free, but at what cost?

Suddenly, another sound rose over your own tears. For a moment, you truly thought it was the sound of your heart breaking. But when you heard it a second time, you knew it wasn't in your head. It was glass. The shattering of glass. It was the sound of violence. Even down the hall, you heard the unmistakable wails of König’s voice. And it was accented with guttural cursing and sounds of destruction. He had shut down at first, but it hadn't taken long for the emotions to break the dam and flood his mind. And by the sounds filling the barracks halls, he wasn't equipped to handle them. His training, his skills, his weapons. With them, he could face any obstacle in the field. But nothing he had could help him right now. Nothing could stop him from losing it. And he was most certainly losing it.

Ghost felt you tense. He knew what your next move would be and he knew nothing he said or did would be able to stop it. So when you tore yourself away from his embrace and sprinted down the hall, he let you go. You didn't know if Ghost followed. You didn't know if anyone else had overheard or were coming to help. You just ran. You ran towards the noise, fear and guilt and concern fueling every stride.

When you reached the doorway, you immediately ducked as a picture frame whizzed past before shattering against the wall behind you. König's treasured blanket that you'd given him had been sliced into scraps. From the gashes in its surface, it was clear he had used a knife to do it. And it didn't take you long to find it. Your stuffed bear lay impaled on his bed, the hilt of one of his knives jutting out of its center. Its delicate stitches had been torn apart, leaving gaping holes in its surface. Letters of passion and love you didn’t even know he'd kept littered the floor in shreds. And in the center of it all was König. He was on his knees, screaming in pure anguish and bashing his fist into a framed image of both of you. The glass had already broken, but he wasn’t stopping. The jagged pieces of glass broke smaller and smaller, the tiny daggers embedding into his blood-streaked knuckles with every blow. But he didn't feel it or didn't care. There was only one pain he felt right now and nothing else in the world could come close to it. With a choked scream of grief, he snapped the frame in half and sent the remains flying out the door above your head. And it was then that he saw you. His eyes were puffy and red. They looked wild, almost deranged. And as he literally shook with emotion, all you could do was sit there and try to make him feel less alone.

"Why wasn't I enough for you?" He wailed. You jumped as his desk chair slammed against his bedroom wall before clattering to the floor. "Why wasn't my love enough?"

"König…," you breathed, tears stopping your words.

"I loved you!" He wailed. "I trusted you! You were my everything! I gave you all of me! And then you threw me away like garbage!"

His breathing was erratic, coming in frantic gasps that were far too shallow. His hands were shaking and by now, he was crying uncontrollably.

"König, just breathe for me okay?" You rushed, unsure of what to do. "I know it hurts and I wish I could make it stop. But you're scaring me. Please. Just breathe and let's talk this out."

"How can you ask me to be calm when you just ripped out my heart?" He clutched his chest, fighting to catch his breath but unwilling to delay pouring out his pain. "You-you ask me to breathe! Every fucking breathe I took, I took for you! I can't… I can't-"

König sank to the floor, his breath coming in short gasps that couldn't fill his lungs. He slumped over on his hands and knees, shaking as he struggled to breathe. And the sight made your panic spike to new heights.

"König!" You rushed to his side. Your hands hovered over his body, both afraid to touch him again and unsure of how to help. "Come on, König. You have to breathe. Stay with me!"

He didn't answer. He couldn't. But he clutched your arms, eyes wide in terror and panic. His body couldn't handle violent sobs and screams while keeping everything else in motion. And it was currently choosing everything but the things he needed most.

"Help! Someone help!" You screamed, holding him close. "He can't breathe! König, please! König!"

Fortunately, the response came instantly. There was no doubt everyone there had heard the ruckus. But though they respectfully did not intrude and gave you as much privacy as they could, all of that changed when you called for aid. Doors slammed open and frantic footsteps filled the halls. Though Ghost was the first to arrive, he hung back knowing he was likely the very last person König wanted to see right now. But Price was the first to come rushing into the room and Soap was right on his heels. The entire taskforce had leapt into action, immediately filling the room and surrounding the scene.

"Get back," Price barked over his shoulder, tugging König out of your arms. "Give him space."

Price relocated König to the side of his room, being careful to avoid the broken glass before propping him against the wall. Soap knelt beside him, grabbing his chin and raising his head.

"Come on, mate," he said, firm and calm. "Breathe with me. In and out, you can do this."

König's eyes were wild as he clutched Soap’s arm, trying to focus on synchronizing his breaths with his. Price crouched in front of him, quickly tugging off his hood and fanning him to cool him off. It took an agonizingly long time. But gradually, König's breathing began to calm. He took a deep inhalation, his body thankful for the supply. And after a few more such breaths, he regained control. Now finally able to breathe without strain, the emotions returned full force all over again. König buried his face in Soap’s shirt and sobbed. He didn't care that his whole team was watching. He didn't care that everyone had seen his face. The pain was too all-consuming to leave room for it. All he could do was cry. And as the low, mournful sounds poured out, Soap did his best to soothe him. To keep him calm.

"I'm here, Soap's gotcha," he murmured, holding him close and rubbing his back. "It's gonna be okay."

You sobbed right along with him. And Ghost was right there to hold you as you did. There were no secrets anymore. Everyone knew and there was no point in hiding it. And though Soap chanted his words of comfort, there were of no help to you. The last thing you felt right now was that everything would ever be okay again.

This note is from a little over a year ago, but was included when I originally posted this on AO3. Time has passed, but the general message is still worth saying

(TW: Mention of death, suicide, depression, and mental health)

Hey everyone. In light of the past few weeks, it felt right for me to leave you a more vulnerable and serious note. I've had a lot on my mind over these past few weeks and if you've noticed my posting pace take a hit, this is why. Work is always a bear and it keeps me running to the point of exhaustion. And life never pulls its punches. But on top of all of that, I received news last week that my childhood best friend committed suicide. Unfortunately, after I graduated from college and started working, my life brought struggles of its own. My own depression, a life-long battle with narcolepsy, acclimating to married life, and the stress of my career all took over as my priorities. But I have so much regret knowing I let our friendship grow distant while she was battling her own demons and losing. She fought hard. And when we parted ways, I stupidly believed she had gotten through the worst of it. But she was still struggling and I'll never know what pushed her over the edge in the end. I wish I could have been there for her, checked in more, and reminded her that she wasn't alone. But all I can do now is push forward, reflect on our happy memories, and promise myself to be more intentional with the time I have. Because it is so so precious. And we never know when the next time we see the faces of the ones we love so dearly will be our last.

All of that said, I know this chapter carries a lot of pain and emotion in it. I admittedly used these past few chapters to sort through my own grief and loss. I process tough feelings by writing, about whatever is on my mind or about anything at all. And as I heal, things have gotten easier with time. But I wanted to leave a serious note for my readers. I don't know what struggles each of you may be facing or what demons you may be fighting. But I owe it to her and to each of you to remind you that you are not alone. If you ever need someone to talk to, you can always talk to me. That is not a promise I make lightly. If you message me, I will answer the minute I am able. If you ever need to talk, I will be there as soon as I can. We may not know each other well, but I genuinely care and want you to know that. Please reach out in your darkest times, even when your brain might be telling you to do the opposite. Because though I'm sure my friend felt like no one cared anymore, the full room at her funeral showed exactly the opposite. She was deeply loved. You are deeply loved. And if you are struggling with depression or thoughts of suicide, please call the Suicide Intervention Hotline and get the support you need. The support you deserve. The world is a much brighter place with each of you in it. So please don't put out your light. Hold your loved ones close. Whether family, friends, chosen family, etc. Love actively. Love passionately. Love bravely. Love like there is no tomorrow so that when that time comes, you'll have no regrets.

If you or someone you know if struggling or in crisis, help is available. Call or text 988 or chat at 988lifeline.org

[dizzlypuzzled]

Alligator

Here is the Prologue to my new story Alligator!! I will be posting this to ao3 either tonight or tomorrow!

Let me know what you think so far!

It's based off a prompt I will link at the end

Fentonworks blazed to the ground, Danny is left alone and Kevin and Oscar had recently been looking to expand their family.

Fuzz.

“…gone. I know it…”

“We’ll take care of him…Ghost could…”

Nothing.

He couldn’t feel anything.

“Danny?”

No answering. They would…if they ever…he couldn’t.

At least he could stay in Amity Park. But he hasn’t seen his friends at all since…since…

He felt darkness folding around him in comfort. A nice chill as he hit the ground.

Maybe death would finally claim him as well.

“I know I said we were ready, but are we sure?” Kevin asked as he leaned over Danny. The kid had been living disassociated from the real world for the past two weeks ever since he’d found out that Fentonworks had gone up in flames.

Taking his family with it. They still hadn’t figured out what had happened yet.

Danny was vacantly staring at the television that had some kind of cartoon on. It made Oscar feel better when something was quietly plating in the background as he filed their taxes.

It was better than knowing that Danny was staring at a black television screen.

“He could become a target for ghosts. Especially since his parents were ghost hunters. Bad ones, but still. We can protect him far better than anyone else, and we had discussed adopting before. We knew we didn’t want a baby…and…Danny has some ghost training…at least, I think so,” Oscar explained as he rubbed his eyes and shut the files. “Do you really want to give him back already?”

“No, I just know that…we had accused his friend…I think it was, of being a ghost. Once he…”

“He’s a teenager, he may not even remember that…plus I think he disliked that guy anyway.”

“His friends were there,” Kevin sighed as he sat down next to Danny. Danny twitched like he wanted to move away from Kevin, but remained still and continued to stare at the television. “Have you heard back from any of the therapists?”

“No. None of them have responded since learning that we were from Amity. Something about how teenagers here refused to be helpful because of a bad experience with another counselor or some such nonsense. They believed that it’d be counter productive.”

Oscar studied Danny for a moment.

“We cannot let any of the ones for us get near him…they’re not…”

“I agree with you, no Guys in White counselor. I’m not even sure any of them have a real license anyway. I know Danny probably has to come out of it on his own…for now, well just be here.”

“I’m just glad they let us have paternal leave for this. Luckily ghost attacks have been down since the Fenton Portal was destroyed.” Oscar got up and sat down on the other side of Danny before slowly putting an arm around the teen.

Danny flinched when Oscar touched him, but he didn’t let that stop him from giving the boy a one-sided hug.

Danny was tense before he slowly relaxed. It took time, but they had promised that they would be patient.

They had to be.

Vlad glared as he tried to get back into the real world from his portal.

It had been a simple setup to get Daniel, but then his portal seemed to have destabilized and not he was stranded in the Ghost Zone.

He turned and looked around. He could try his Wisconsin portal. But then he’d have to fly all the way back to Amity.

And that’s if he remembered where it was. He headed towards the portal. He didn’t really have a choice and he needed to get back before he was declared missing.

“At least Masters is missing,” Kevin said as he signed the last of the paperwork. They were officially the adoptive parents of one, Daniel James Fenton.

“Honestly, I’m glad we managed to push this though. I don’t trust him,” Oscar said as he remembered when Danny had called them to investigate Masters Wisconsin Manor to look for ghost activity.

There was something there, but then it was cleaned up and all reports stated that it was a false alarm.

Danny’s name was never red flagged though. It had been a weird few days after that when Masters came in and ran for mayor seemingly wanting to get back at the kid.

It creeped them out.

Oscar was holding Danny to his side refusing to let the kid go. Danny had been screaming most of the night, and they knew he was having nightmares, but he wasn’t responding to them.

“Once Danny…brings himself back to reality, then we can see about…getting him some kind of help,” the social worker said as she packed everything up. It was a weird case, but there hadn’t been much choice in the matter when they couldn’t contact Alicia.

Danny needed something stable, and the two operatives were going to be the only option until Danny brought himself back.

There wasn’t anything anyone else could do but be there for him.

Danny felt things moving more than anything. The Guys in White had to know about Phantom, that’s why the agents were there constantly.

It had to be, but he knew that he hadn’t truly been hurt or anything since being placed into their custody.

He was so terrified and unsure, and he wanted to know.

But if that what they were waiting for?

He couldn’t handle that. The darkness was kinder than anything they could offer.

The darkness and emptiness didn’t hurt.

@kokoa-la

[turbodrawn]

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.

————

 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.

[kiwibeanv]

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

[mslangermann]

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. 

[godoreo27]

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."

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- 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

[rosetheex-editor]

[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.]

[victorluvsalice]

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

[multiversxwhore]

☾☾☾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.

[the-bar-sinister]

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."

[madlymine]

Episode 4 - Recap

EP4: ML panics and rushes outside the school's toilet to get Fuju to help! He uses his power to move a coin and makes Fuju follow it to find the FL bleeding excessively from her nose *o*'''

*ugly flashback images from Sweet Home kdrama*

Fuju takes the FL to the school's infirmary and put her in a bed. She tries to get up to look for the ML. But Fuju tells her that she might start bleeding again if she dose. Then he hands her the coin and tells her that it might have been the ML's doing.

Me: he read the script and is pretending to be oblivious xD

Then they both hear a loud bang on the door. Fuju: "the teacher is not here now." *banging continues* Fuju: "just come in already!"

The ML opens the door and immediately possesses his friend's body! I guess he interpreted "come in" as he pleases...

FL wakes up to find ML in Fuju's body and she actually recognizes him! ML (using FUJU's poor body) decides this is the perfect opportunity to kiss her and the kiss turns into a disgusting make-out (+ a weird song is playing in the background that you usually hear in trashy-love-scenes).

Me: *feels sick* this is a whole new level of crabsticks

AFTER THAT: FL passes out again and Fuju regains control over his body to find his lips bloody after the kiss and starts questioning his existence and why he kissed this mess.

Me: Fuju the victim... *feels bad*

SCENE CHANGES. FL in bed and ML tells her that her temperature is back to normal again. She tells him that she had a weird dream and he tells her it wasn't. "I used my best friend's body to kiss you." "REAlly!" *happy FL* "Swooory." "I see. Then I really kissed you." *feeling shy*

Me: Of course! fudge this. I'm mad.

Airhead: "I feel bad for Fuju though." Shitface: "You're okay with it? I used his body to kiss you." "Why would I? It's his body but it's you who kissed me. I don't think Fuju remembers anyways." "You bled so I'm sure he figured it out."

Me: *searches for a hanging-rope or a sedative*

CUT. Change scene before Fatema loses her life over something ridiculous.

Victim: "you are okay now." AH: "thanks for the help." "no worries. that happened?" "kiss?"

*both apologize at the same time*

V: "I kissed a sick girl..." ML: "he thinks he kissed you."

FL tells him about the coin and his ghost friend. He doesn't believe her at first but after she lets him hold the coin and tells the ML to move it from his hand, after that demonstration, he takes it as a trick.

The she tells him that there is one rule he should follow when the ghost is around. She types the forbidden phrase on her phone and shows him the screen and adds "never say these words". aaaand he reads the screen XD

Fuju the genius: "Come inside me."

ML possess his friends body again..

AH: WHY did he read it?!

NEXT class is PE and they can't skip it so the Fuju (ML inside) and FL have a date.

FL: "touch me" ML: "WHAT! we are in class now." "you said we shouldn't worry." "that's taking it too far." "I want to remember how you touch me. I want to have many memories."

Me: GIRL. you should have skipped class then. not that I support this pervy violation of Fuju's body for you love birds.

ML: "is that going into your spank bank?" FL: "NO. I wouldn't do such thing" *becomes shy and pouts* "I'm sorry. I was kidding." "I'm a liar. I'm a filthy girl...." "You don't have to confess!" *panic* "It's always you in my fantasies. I imagine you being more forceful than you are..." "F-forceful?" "like pushing my legs-" *she signs with her hands* *he grabs her hands and tells her to stop explaining*

Me: pffft WHAT! I need serious therapy after this.

Hirose (another friend of ML and Fuju) interrupts them and I'm relieved he did. The class starts playing volleyball the first throw hits the FL right on her head (while she was spacing out as usual).

She wakes up in an alternative dark universe of the sports hall and sees the evil ghost of the ML.

"You called?" *he extends his feet towards her head and tells her to kiss it* When her lips almost reach his shoe, she returns to the real world to see that the ball got ripped and Fuju is pressing on his heart & breathing heavily, while the ML is standing confused in the middle of the court.

THEN the boy who threw the ball gets a huge cut on his arm and starts bleeding o-O''

ML: "what happened? when did I leave Fuju's body?"

SCENE changes and we are outside heading home. Fuju: "I believe you now. I can't believe my friend did whatever he liked with my body." FL: "he says he is sorry." "you too. what the heck is "touch me"? we were in class! why do I have to hear about how you masturbate?"

Me: you and me both. we suffered from this writer.

*both FL & ML are shocked*

"How do you remember?" "Why wouldn't I?" "Because I didn't when he possessed me."

Fuju asks the ML to leave so he can talk privately with the FL about something. The ML says he's okay with that and tells her that he'll wait for her at the school's gate.

Fuju: "he injured that boy. didn't he?" "did you see him do it? "I didn't but that's the only explanation here. the moment I was free, the ball exploded and that student got a cut on his arm. he'll need stiches for that." "I'm sorry."

Me: umm.. that's not the point lol

Fuju: "I'm not blaming you. are you afraid?" "that's not it. I just want to do something for him." "me too. I feel bad for him. let's make sure he doesn't turn into an evil spirit and help him pass on in peace." "yoroshiku-onegaishimasu."

*insert sad music and internal thoughts of the FL that best be kept inside her mind*

- THE END. -

I wish... https://youtu.be/SQE1rTd_YcE

a year ago

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Spooktober Prompt Masterlist 2021

#760: “I wonder, how many people are dead in that graveyard?” “Hopefully all of them…” {Submitted by: crowned-avery}

#761: The meeting with Death went better than they had expected.

#762: Her hair was blacker than the night sky and her skin so pale that it felt like you could see right through her. She looked like she was no longer alive and the unnatural snarl on her face indicated that she may have never been.

#763: They didn't want it to be true, but with time they realized that the whole town continued to have the same nightmare every single night. And now the nightmare seemed to become reality.

#764: Having a high-ranking demon on speed dial did come in handy sometimes.

#765: A magic user wants revenge on a hated enemy. However, the stronger her emotions, the weaker her magic becomes, so in order to carry out her revenge she must let go of her anger. Submitted by: sheherlocked}

#766: If you believe in angels, you have to believe in demons too.

#767: Making out in a graveyard can lead to some very unexpected things.

#768: The abandoned theme park seemed to be the perfect location for their horror movie. But nothing went according to plan.

#769: A group of teenagers film themselves going into a 'haunted' house and try to win a challenge by staying the whole night. In the beginning, they film random spooky events that they themselves had planned to gain followers. But suddenly their little game becomes the harsh reality.

#770: There was a reason why they were called the walking dead, not the running one.

#771: So maybe you weren't supposed to go into town alone. And maybe you weren't supposed to go into suspicious looking pubs in the dead of night. But nothing had ever said you couldn't go disguised as a goblin. {Submitted by: avokadoodoo}

#772: The flower was beautiful and its smell was heavenly. Unfortunately, it was also deadly.

#773: They were paid barely enough to clean out deceased people’s apartments. They were definitely not being paid enough for what they found in this one.

#774: When they tried to dig up the body, to everyone's surprise, it was not empty. There were more bodies in the casket than expected.

#775: There was a howling in the distance, but it was coming closer and closer. Now, it was too late to run.

#776: The small cave they had wanted to explore turned out to be much bigger than expected. They tried to mark their way back, but when they turned around, the symbols they had painted on the walls where gone. And so was their way out of the cave.

#777: They soon realize that not everyone at the Halloween party is actually wearing a costume.

#778: It all started when fresh flowers began to appear at graves and the bereaved swore that it hadn’t been them who put them there. At first, they believed it to be a nice gesture from a stranger, but when every single grave had their flowers and they never seemed to wilt, the people became suspicious.

#779: You’re a modern vampire, hidden away from the prying eyes of the world for a few decades now. Stories of your kind have slowly faded into the background. Most of what people know about vampires is false anyways. You integrate back into society, start attending university, and get a job, and all seems well! Until you start hearing about a modern vampire hunter. {Submitted by: handsome-lovecraftian-horror}

#780: The howling noise grew louder, the closer he got to the end of the lane. One more step and he would know for sure what it was, that he had to face. {Submitted by: ouilah}

#781: “I ordered a grande of human’s blood, not cow, you dimwit.” {Submitted by: avokadoodoo}

#782: “I don’t forget.” “I’m pretty sure even ghosts can forget things too, buddy. But I definitely wouldn’t forget if I killed someone. Get your accusations straight, damn.” {Submitted by: thesaurus-lover}

#783: Animals have the ability to sense things, that shouldn’t exist in the living world. So if you see your pet whimpering at a seemingly empty corner - listen carefully.

#784: When I was younger, I lived up in Alaska where there's usually several feet of snow on the ground when Halloween night arrives. As you can imagine, trick or treating in those conditions took willpower! I was just a kid, of course, but perhaps if I had been aware of what was festering beneath the layers of snow and ice, I may have taken more precautions before going outside those nights... {Submitted by: havvki}

#785: Humans had the tendency to not believe that they were actually dead. And it always took some time to convince them.

#786: "Is that a bowl of rodent bones you're crunching on right now?" "Well, I'm hungry and you didn't offer anything better." {Submitted by: avokadoodoo}

#787: “I’m afraid Death is busy at the moment, but I can put your call through to his wife, Taxes, if you like.” {Submitted by: sheherlocked}

#788: Everything about the move was normal. That was until a stranger starts to call them on their landline. The stranger starts to call hour after hour and frantically speaks in a foreign language. {Submitted by: mxghostbee}

#789: Witches always had a special connection to their surroundings, feeling the power and the pain of nature around them. And right now, she felt like she was stabbed right into her heart. {Submitted by: ouilah}

#790: The maze suddenly appeared on a previously empty field and no one came forward to explain this as some kind of joke. A few kids made a challenge out of it: who was brave enough to go through the maze and come back out at the end? But there was no end to it. And it had been days since the children had been seen and with every day, more people vanished, trying their luck in the maze, desperate to save those who were lost.

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