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coffeeghoulie · 3 days ago

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broke the mold (change will come)

chapter 1: can't explain a thing

"For a very long time, I thought I was fire too."

The only person Swiss has ever told this story to is Aeon. But that is centuries from now, and he is not yet Swiss.

I've been thinking about and working on this fic since I wrote Eternal Heatstroke last year, and it's finally ready to share! You don't have to have read EH before reading this, but this is technically its sequel.

Much thanks to @askingforthesun for letting me bother them with this fic and helping with the worldbuilding, @mintea-in-space for reading through it, and to @belle--ofthebrawl for letting me yap about this fic in person. <3

Title and all chapter titles (unless otherwise specified) are from (Coffee's for Closers) by Fall Out Boy. Updates on Fridays.

Contains emotional child abuse, religious doubt, a large group of ghoul OCs, dissociation, and a large crisis of faith. Please mind the warnings <3. 5.9k.

divider by @wrathofrats <3

He's just gotten comfortable in the little nest in the corner of their room when the door creaks open. Golden light spills into the late night darkness, revealing the silhouette of a teenage fire ghoulette. Her horns are just starting to curl back over her head, silver jewelry threaded into the braids that brush over her shoulders. The hall light glints off of them, catching his eye.

"Aurum," she says bluntly, no hesitation or care that he might be asleep. He shuts his eyes. "Mother and Father want to talk to you."

Aurum squeezes his eyes shut even tighter, a pang of fear and deep seated dread sinking into him. He groans under his breath, biting down hard on his lower lip. "I know," he says, reluctantly extracting himself from his nest just as Scintilla, his sister, curls up into hers in the other corner.

"Be quiet when you come back," she says, disinterested in the obvious fear in his scent that he can't quite mask. "Some of us care about our studies in the morning. Ignis is already asleep."

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, feeling his sister's eyes burning into the small of his back. "I'll be quiet, Till." He’ll at least try to be. At least for his youngest sister’s sake. Sometimes, it feels like she’s the only one who doesn’t just hate him.

"You better be quiet," she grumbles, settling into her bed. "You certainly weren't last time."

Aurum shuts the door as quietly as he can.

The walk down the hallway gets longer every time he's summoned, he swears. Every step harder to take, unavoidable. His heart pounds in his chest. It rattles at his ribs in an attempt to get free. He waits for a moment outside of their door, the frame seeming to loom over him despite him being rather tall for his age.

There's shuffling within, blankets and papers, quiet murmurs that Aurum can't quite make heads or tails of. He knows his mother and father's voices though. He swallows hard, turning the door handle and stepping into his parents' room.

Aurum feels like he's spending more time in his parents' room than his own, these days. It's the third summoning this week. Their room is exactly the same as the last time he was summoned here. Their hearth sits against the far wall in an intricate weaving of bedding, two dressers on the wall opposite. The window is tightly shut, and if Aurum squints past the glare from the lights on their nightstands, he can see the glow of the City below.

Aurum ducks his head as both of his parents' gazes lock onto him. Pyra sits in her nest, legs gracefully tucked under her. There's papers and readings sprawled out in the blankets, her glasses perched on her nose as she looks over the frames. Inferno stops pacing by the window, turning to look at his oldest and only son, dull yellow eyes staring into what counts of his soul.

"Your father and I both know why we've asked you here, Aurum," Pyra says, reaching back to where she's tied back her hair. A few loose twists have escaped her ponytail, and she pushes them back behind her ears neatly. Ever prim and proper, even when winding down for the evening.

"Yes, Mother," Aurum mumbles, taking the space he knows well at the foot of their hearth. His arms go behind his back, and he hangs his head, his braids falling into his eyes.

Inferno tuts, and Aurum jolts. "You look at your mother when she speaks to you."

Aurum swallows. "Yes, Father." It's always hard to judge if Inferno gets involved on nights like this. He usually yields to his mate, but some nights... Aurum just has to hedge his bets. But he swallows hard again, straightening to meet his mother's dark amber gaze.

"Why do you think we've called you here?" Pyra asks, her attention split between him and her papers. Aurum's made the hypocrisy comment before, about him forced to be at attention and her being allowed to pay attention only when she pleased, and it didn't end well, so he keeps his mouth shut.

"I don't know, Mother," he says. In reality, it could be any number of infractions. Iggy, even though she's his favorite little sister, loves pushing his buttons until he breaks and snaps. It could be the way he isn't keeping his nest clean to Tilly's standards. It could be anything.

Pyra whips towards Inferno, something red glowing in the darkness of her eyes like embers waiting to be kicked back to life. "By the Prince, Inferno, he's just like you."

The larger ghoul throws his hands up, raking claws through close-cropped curls. "I know, Pyra, I'm trying to make sure he doesn't turn out like me."

"You're not trying hard enough," she snaps, turning back to Aurum. His ears pin back. "'I don't know' is not an answer, Aurum. Try again."

Aurum wracks his mind, even as everything starts to blur around the edges. He digs his claws into one of his wrists, squeezing as hard as he can. He hopes the pain keeps the dissociation at bay. "I- I really don't know, Mother."

She snarls, slapping the papers in her hand against the nest. Aurum flinches, but he knows better now than to physically recoil and step back. He'd learned that lesson a long time ago. He instead tightens his grip around his wrist.

"You are here, again, because your tutor told us that you weren't trying at all to improve your magic. Again."

"I am trying!" Aurum says, eyes glancing nervously between his parents. His father stands stock still, staring expressionlessly. "Saint Jezebel, I'm trying, I swear!"

"Watch your tone." Pyra tuts, her fangs clicking threateningly. She picks up the stack of papers and thumbs through them. "I'd believe you, Aurum, only, that's exactly what you said about the last tutor. And the last one. And the one before that."

Aurum takes a deep breath through his nose. "Because it was true then, and it's true now. I am trying, Mother. I don't know what's wrong with me that I can't use my magic like I used to. I can't do anything right." He snaps the last sentence, unsure if he's angry with her or at himself.

She shakes her head. Her eyes lock on his and it takes everything in Aurum's power to not look away. To stay here and present and focused. If he misses something, she will make him live to regret it. "Tone, Aurum."

He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. "I'm sorry, Mother."

Pyra doesn't respond with much more than a huff.

"You know how your mother feels about 'sorry,' Aurum," Inferno snaps. He leans against the bedroom wall. He watches. It feels like that's all his father ever does. Watches, never interferes. Except when he's angry enough to start yelling too.

Aurum hates those nights. He hopes this isn't one of them.

"Yes, Father," Aurum says.

"Quit it with the 'Yes, Father, yes, Mother,'" Pyra says. "We're sick of hearing it."

Aurum squints, brows furrowing with exasperated confusion. "Well, if I don't address you, you yell at me for being disrespectful. If I do address you, you get angry. I can't win."

She mirrors his expression. He can't tell if she's mocking him. She probably is. "So you admit that you think this is a game?"

"No!" He says, throwing his head back to look up at the ceiling, a silent prayer in his mind. "That's not what I said at all!"

"You are squandering the Prince's gift!" Pyra snaps, her many fangs long and sharp. "He said that you would-"

"Grow to great power and bring honor to my name in servitude to the Throne! Mother, I know, you've told me!" Aurum says, his claws curling into his wrist and threatening to break his own skin. "You tell me every time I don't do good enough for you!"

"Aurum," she growls, standing from the nest. She's just barely taller than him, and her eyes bore into his. "You would do well enough for us if you just tried. I know you can, I've seen it."

"What, when everything was fucking easy?" He snaps. Aurum's exhausted. He wonders why they can't have these little "discussions" earlier in the day. When he wouldn't ache for his nest. Wouldn't have to worry about waking his sisters.

"Don't take that tone with me," she snarls. She's never done more than snap her teeth, grab at his wrist, but there's enough threat in her voice that Aurum flinches.

He lets his eyes flick up at the ceiling, the familiar words starting to rush through his mind. Seven Sisters, grant me the strength and patience I do not-

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Aurum!"

Aurum's eyes go wide, glancing back to his mother's face as she stands in front of him. "I didn't!"

"I fucking watched you, Aurum, I'm not stupid!" She lunges, so close Aurum can feel her spittle hitting his cheeks. "Quit fucking lying to me, it's not going to get you anywhere."

"Mother, I didn't roll my eyes, I looked up-"

"Knock it off," Inferno says. "Listen to your mother."

"I am, Father," Aurum says, bravely looking away from Pyra to glare daggers at his father. He feels the anger burning in his chest, coals kicked into flames with each heartbeat. Whenever he calms, in hours or days, who knows, Aurum knows there will be no forgiveness for his father's enabling observance. For never putting a stop to this. He's close to grown now, he can leave soon and never have to do this again.

Not much longer until he's grown. He's gotten this far. He can make it a few more decades.

The tiny voice in the back of his mind reminds him that he's not sure how much more of this he can force himself to endure.

Pyra's clawed hand grabs his chin, forcing Aurum to make eye contact with her. "You need to try harder, Aurum. The Prince said you would bring honor to your family's name and follow their footsteps. Do not make a false prophet of Him."

"I am trying as hard as I can, the fire's not- It's not coming to me the way it used to, and I don’t know why," he says, tail curling around his calf sheepishly and ears pinned back. "I'm sorry. Mama, I’m sorry."

She rolls her eyes, huffing. Her voice goes soft, and her thumb smooths over his cheek. Gentle. He fights every instinct to lean into it. "I don't believe you. Aurum. If you really meant it, you would do something to change it."

Aurum sinks his fangs into his tongue until he tastes blood. Even despite the pain, he can feel his mind retreating deep into his brain, leaving him feeling almost hollow. Pyra's talking. He knows he can hear her, but nothing processes. She can probably see the way his eyes are going dull.

There's a muted dread that settles in his chest. He knows she's saying something he needs to listen to. She'll be pissed when she realizes he isn't hearing her. His father'll be pissed too. But Aurum can't get his brain back online even despite that threat.

He can hear her talking. So close he can feel her breath, his eyes crossed as they try to focus on her. He cannot make out the words but knows the tone. He’s heard it before. He knows how to make this stop, how to stop nights like these, but he’s been trying just as long.

It feels like he’s living the same day over and over and over and over and over again with no end in sight.

Eventually, she lets go of his face, takes a step back to her nest. To where she’s brought her work home from the Palace. Flamespeaker’s duties never ending, and Pyra’s served the Prince with honor since long before she’d met his father.

"You are dismissed," Pyra huffs. She gestures towards the door. "Do not wake your sisters."

Aurum nods, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat as he tries to force himself back into his body. "Yes, Mother. Good night."

It isn't returned.

He shuts his parents' door as quietly as he can, turning the knob as it latches so it doesn't click loudly. His tail tucked between his legs, he slips back down the hallway to his and Scintilla's room. He's fighting a losing battle, his eyes stinging and blurry with tears, and by the time Aurum creaks the door to their room open, they've started dripping down his cheeks.

Aurum's nest waits for him, and he slips under the covers as quietly as he can. Best he can tell, he was successful on not waking either of his sisters. He counts it as a win.

He throws the blankets over himself, eyeing the lump Scintilla makes under her covers carefully. Her breathing is slow and steady, and he nods, knowing what she looks like when she sleeps. He's been sharing a room with her for almost two centuries now, has been practically his entire life. Iggy, his baby sister, youngest of his den, had slept in their parents' hearth far longer than Scintilla or Aurum had, and when she'd finally outgrown the habit, Aurum had been more than happy to give up his room for her.

Aurum watches Scintilla breathe for another few moments, just to make sure he’s followed through with his promise. When he's certain she's asleep, he grabs a big handful of the thickest blanket in his nest, sinking his teeth into the fur to stifle a sob.

The barrier breaks, and it all floods out of him. He sobs, curling up in on himself, knees to his chest, and he shakes. He's tired. So tired. Scared, and upset, and wailing like a brand new kit. He hates himself for it. He's almost grown, and here he is, crying so hard his tears steam up on his cheeks.

Of course his fire makes itself known now.

Aurum hates it all.

He tries to keep it quiet. He really does. But he freezes when he hears a snap of fangs from the other side of the room.

"Be fucking quiet," Scintilla hisses. Her tail unfurls from around her body, the spade smacking threateningly against her nest. She rolls over with a quiet growl. “Or I go get Mother.”

Aurum whines, caught. He turns over to face the wall, tears still streaming down his face as more shame settles into the core of his chest. His tail uncurls from around his thigh, and he takes the spade between his teeth.

He bites down until he tastes iron, willing himself to fall asleep.

Aurum's dreams have always been strange. Tonight is no exception. He finds himself in the shadow of a tall ghoul, a man he doesn't recognize. Everything's too fuzzy to make out the real details. He's lit with fire, steam and shadow obscuring the details. All Aurum can see are the broad features. His hair falls in long locs down his back, horns curving out from his head.

Aurum calls out for him, so close, yet when he tries to take a step towards this strange, familiar ghoul, he gets no closer. "Hey!" Aurum calls, reaching as far as he can.

The man pays him no mind. He does not say anything, doesn't even acknowledge that Aurum's called out to him. He starts to walk away.

“Hey!” Aurum panics, breaking into a stumbling run after the man. "Wait!"

With every step, Aurum gets further away from the man, even as he reaches with arms outstretched, runs as fast as he can. "Please don't leave me here!"

The man pauses. Looks over his shoulder. The moment Aurum meets his eye, he jolts awake in a sweaty, disheveled mess. He doesn’t fall asleep again. Mind too frantic, trying to figure out what it meant. He has no answer.

Things are still tense in the morning, a bitter taste on the back of his tongue, coating the roof of his mouth. His sisters share glances with each other as he steps out into the common room, even Iggy. She looks tired. Something like disappointment pangs sharp in Aurum’s chest, and he curls in on himself.

"Didn't sleep well," she says to no one in particular, spreading jam over a stale piece of flatbread. There's a dog-eared book in her lap, and her tail brushes against the stool leg as it sways absently behind her. Ignis ties her locs back out of her face as she eats. She doesn’t look at him. That hurts worse than anything else.

Aurum's ears pin back as Scintilla glares at him from where she sits next to their sister. "No wonder," she says dryly. Her fingers work at a piece of silver jewelry that had come off of one of her braids in the night. “Someone doesn’t know how to be considerate if the instructions were written out and shoved into his face.”

"I'm sorry," Aurum mumbles, tail curled around his calf as he goes to get himself something to eat. He knows his mother has already left for her duties, but he can't quite remember if his father had a meeting scheduled for this morning or the next day. It's always best to try and appease his denmates just in case he's still home.

Even then, it doesn't really matter if Inferno's home or not. Despite walking on eggshells around them, trying his best to be civil and accommodating, one of his sisters will find something, say something, to report back to their parents. Kicking the coals to restart the fire, whether they mean to or not.

Aurum's used to it by now anyways. No use complaining. He takes a deep breath and turns his back to rummage through a cabinet. Their eyes burn into his skull.

"Quit saying you're sorry, Aurum," Scintilla scoffs. Even with his back turned, Aurum knows his sister has her fangs bared. She sounds like their mother. "We keep going through this because you won't listen to Mother. You are ruining our lives. All you are is a broken record. You're not sorry."

His tail lashes behind him and he whirls on his feet to face her, forgetting all about finding something to eat. "Quit telling me how I feel, Till!"

She just rolls her eyes, snarling a little under her breath. "Don't call me that."

"I can't call you your name?" Aurum snaps, meeting her glare and baring his own teeth in response. "I can't call you your Prince-damned name?"

Her eyes flare with fire, smoke curling from her nostrils. "Tilly isn't my name, you belligerent asshole!"

He snarls, lunging for the counter, and she swats at him, hissing and spitting. Her claws catch the back of his hand, and Aurum shouts as she rakes them across it. "Fuck you," he snarls, clutching his hand to his chest. Dark blood oozes like magma from the cut.

"Oh, get over yourself," Scintilla says, rolling her eyes, getting up from her seat and grabbing her bag. "It's time to go, Ig. We’re gonna be late if we don’t." Ignis follows close behind her, giving Aurum one last glance as she too grabs her bag and follows her sister out the door. The anger Aurum sees there stings like salt in a cut.

He stands stock still until the door latches shut behind them. Aurum snarls under his breath, shoving the heels of his hands into his eyes. He can feel his pulse in his temple and in the gash across the back of his hand. The house is silent around him.

Aurum clenches his fists, claws digging into the meat of his palms. He hastily wipes the blood from the back of his hand. It burns. Or is it just his eyes burning that he feels?

He doesn't know and he doesn't care.

Aurum glances down the hallway to his parents' room, trying to determine if his father is still home. When Inferno doesn't come out from his own room or the living room with all of the commotion, Aurum takes a deep breath, lets it out on a sigh. He marches up the hallway and throws his bag back into his nest. Fuck it all, he's not going. He's already going to have to face his pack's disappointment for being a bad fire ghoul.

He might as well give them something different to be disappointed with. Stir it up a little bit.

Aurum heads out then, glancing down the street to his sisters' backs as he turns in the opposite direction. Fuck being a broken record, he scoffs to himself. Under the anger, a dread starts to settle in his chest. He bottles it up for now.

He keeps his head down as he walks deeper into the heart of the City. He knows his parents should both be at work, but they could very well see him ditching his tutor.

It'll get back to them eventually. Of course it will. But Aurum has things he wants to do before he has to deal with those consequences.

Aurum ducks down a side street between two tall buildings, ignoring the ghouls and demons of all elements moving around him, living their lives. He's grateful that they ignore him, despite all of the gold in his hair and ears that marks him as family of the First.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Palace looms over the rest of the skyline, growing ever closer. Aurum feels his heart race, knowing his mother, let alone the Prince Himself, are in that building, and he's walking closer like he wants to be caught.

He keeps walking, head down, breathing in the scent of a street vendor's wares, frying flatbread and sweet and savory fillings. Aurum's stomach growls. He realizes he didn't actually get a chance to eat before rushing out. There's a few coins in his pants pockets, but food can come later. He has something far more important he wants to get done first.

The Palace looms large on the hill in the center of the City when Aurum steps out of the side street. But he turns his back to it. Saint Jezebel's chapel is a much smaller building, ash grey brick and glass stained every color Aurum could ever imagine. There are grander churches, the ones he attends with his family for Black Mass.

But no one ever looks for him at Saint Jezebel's.

Aurum pushes open the door as quietly as he can, slipping inside. He takes a deep breath and lets his shoulders as he takes in the chapel. He's the only ghoul here, much to his relief. Aurum doesn't need anyone questioning him right now.

He slips into the last pew, eyes forward to the statue on the altar. She'd once been human, Up Top, a long time ago. She’s beautiful, carved from perfect white stone by a ghoul long gone by now.

Aurum clasps his fingers together, resting his wrists on the pew in front of him, before bending to press his forehead to his forearms. He takes a deep breath. "Our Father, who art in Hell," he begins, barely a breath louder than a whisper, eyes squeezed shut, focused on that little seed of flame at his very core. "Unhallowed be thy name. Cursed be thy sons and daughters, of thine nemesis who are to blame. Thy Kingdom Come, Nema."

The little speck of flame caged in his ribs, his magic, the core of his being, flickers in acknowledgment. Aurum tries to spiritually warm his hands by the flame. The Prince had made his ancestors, and by extension Aurum himself, in His own image. Had stepped forth from the fires of the Pit, unholy Creation to rival His Forsaker's.

"Infernal Majesty," Aurum whispers, the air still and quiet around him. "I offer my thanks, to be created in Your image, a creature of fire to burn away all Holy. I know this to be true, Olde One."

His eyes dart behind his eyelids. He knows he's alone. But he can feel Saint Jezebel's eyes, even as she looks through the window behind him. Above him. He wonders if she knows he’s here.

"You love Your creations, like Your father was supposed to love You. And You have made us good, and right, and powerful. I try my best to live up to that legacy, and the future You personally have seen for me."

He looks up, opens his eyes. Saint Jezebel stares out the window towards the Palace.

"Lord Lucifer, Prince Morningstar of the Nine Hells, creator and protector of Your children, I pray to borrow an ounce of the strength it took You to stand up to him. I just want to be a good son, Majesty. I want to make Mama and Dad happy, and do good by you. I don't know why I can't get better."

He hastily wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, dropping his head as he continues to pray. The tears sting the cut still there. "Unholy Lord, if all of Your children are made in Your image, why am I bad?"

The chapel is silent. Aurum's question hangs on the air. Even the little spark of magic at the very core of him, forever dancing and flickering, feels like it's frozen still. Saint Jezebel stares.

Aurum swallows hard, lowers his head again, and keeps praying. "O, most unholy Lord, grant me the sacrilege of your knowledge. Open the channels of my infernal soul and bring sweet release to the darkness inside of me. O, let my understanding of Your abhorrent secrets bring me closer to thee. Nema."

The whispered words almost seem to echo throughout the empty chapel. Or maybe Aurum just feels too small, insignificant to be heard. He asks anyways. "The dream from last night, Lord. A-are you leaving me? Am I that bad a ghoul? What's wrong with me? Why won’t it stop?"

Despite his pleas, desperation souring his scent, Aurum knows the only way he's getting an answer is if he marches right into the Palace. He’s just a kit, he knows they're not going to listen to him if he demands audience. He knows his mother likes to talk. He knows what she's said about him.

He wonders if the Prince hates him. It’s a thought that tastes bitter. But sometimes, the helpful things are. It’s almost like medicine.

Aurum stops praying. Just rests his forehead on his arms, feels the bench in front of him dig into them with the pressure. Lets himself be aware of sensation. Tries to shut off his mind. Can’t quite do it.

He’s only aware of time passing when his stomach growls. Services aren’t until the evening, but the chapel’s always open to those who need it. Which, right now, seems to be only him. He’s never been so grateful to be alone.

Aurum stretches when he stands, and is almost sent back on his ass with the force of the dread that hits him. He can’t stay here forever. And leaving means tucking his tail between his legs and sneaking back home. Walking willingly into the lion’s den.

But it’s not like he has any other choice. Aurum has to go home. Or whatever he’s walking into will be far worse when they eventually drag him back.

They’re waiting for him when he returns. Of course they are. Aurum stops in his tracks, ears pinning back and tail curling tight around his calf as his parents glare daggers at him. “M-mother, Father,” he breathes.

“Would you care to explain where you were, Aurum?” Pyra asks, her arms crossed over her chest. Her magma-like markings swirl and ripple, heat radiating off her like her anger. “Your sisters said you never showed up at the tutor’s.”

Aurum shrugs, swallowing hard as he steels himself, forcing himself to hold eye contact with his mother. “They left without me. I wouldn’t doubt that they’re making things up just to rile you up.”

“Lying isn’t a good look on you, Aurum,” Inferno warns. He bares his teeth, and Aurum fights every instinct not to bare his throat in submission. “We found your bag in your nest.”

“I’m not lying.” He at least has the audacity to look his father in the eye as he lies.

“Oh, I’m sure,” he scoffs, stepping towards him. “Get in here. Quit standing in the threshold.”

“Of course, Father,” Aurum says. Every emotion, all of the fear and doubt and anger, swirl inside his chest until all he feels is tired. He crosses his arms, mirroring his mother.

“Don’t take that tone,” he growls. Aurum just huffs.

“Now what? Let me guess. You’re just going to scream at me until you’re happy, and then send me off to bed so we can do this all again in the morning.” He’s fucking exhausted. Aurum hurts.

“We don’t do this because it makes us happy,” Pyra spits. Her eyes burn, flashing orange and red like embers kicked back to life. “We do this because you refuse to fucking listen, Aurum. You have the power to put an end to this. The ball is in your court. This is on you.”

He just laughs. It’s better than bursting into tears. Inferno lunges at him, infuriated by his blatant disrespect. Aurum flinches back, eyes wide as his father grabs him, pulling him closer to him and his mate.

“I can’t end this, because no matter what I do, it’s not good enough,” he hisses, trying so hard to hold himself together. He knows how they react when he cries. He pulls fruitlessly at his arm.

“It would be good enough if you just did what you were told and tried,” Pyra snaps. “That is quite literally all we ask for, Aurum. That does not feel unreasonable to ask for. We ask for you to just try.”

“I do!” he yells, wrenching his arm from his father’s grip. He feels his body temperature steadily rising. “That’s all I fucking do! I try, and I try, and I try, and you’re never fucking happy! What the fuck do you really want?”

For a moment, his mother just looks sad. But Aurum has no fucking pity for her, for his sisters, for his father. His parents don’t answer, just stare at him.

“What do you want,” Aurum tries again, gritting his fangs. “Tell me exactly what you want, so I can be a good enough son for you. Or is that just it, that you want a different kit because I’ve so thoroughly and repeatedly failed you?”

“Aurum, that’s not what we want and you know it-” Pyra tries to protest. Aurum just rolls his eyes.

“Am I making you a disappointment to the Prince? Am I fucking up your most honorable career, Mother? Aren’t you so disappointed that you’re not raising a good enough successor? Come on, tell me.”

“Don’t bring that into this, Aurum,” Inferno snaps, but Aurum ignores him. Much to his parents’ dismay, all they’ve really done is made him excellent at tuning them out. He cocks his head, raising his eyebrows as he waits for his mother’s answer.

“Mother, you know it’s true. The Prince blessed me, so you say, and I’m proving Him wrong.”

Pyra’s eyes ignite, and if Aurum weren’t so angry, so exhausted, he’d be truly afraid.

"You are so fucking inconsiderate!" Pyra screams, baring each of her fangs. Her markings ripple like lava, running down her arms and glowing bright. "If you were anyone else's son, they would have given up on you by now. You are squandering that blessing, and we still haven't given up on you, Aurum."

Aurum's heart and fists clench so tight he can smell blood. "Well," he says, swallowing hard to keep his voice as level as he can. "Maybe you should give up on me."

He gives his mother one last glare before he turns and walks out of the door.

"Aurum, get back here!" Inferno roars, but it's cut off as Aurum slams the door shut. With a jolt of fear, he starts to run.

Aurum doesn't look back, but he doesn't hear the door open after him. Granted, all he can hear is his heart pounding at his ribs, his panting breaths, his feet on the paving stones. He doesn't know where he's going, just lets his feet carry him away away away.

He slams open the doors to Saint Jezebel's for the second time in twenty four hours, and once again, he is alone. The offering candles flicker at her feet, lit for services that are soon to start, and the sight of fire makes Aurum's chest sting even more.

He storms up the aisle, a growl building in his throat as he reaches up to his hair. Aurum knows he doesn't have that much time before someone caves and comes looking for him. He can't go back. But he moves with purpose until he stands underneath Saint Jezebel, her eyes looking up to the window, out to the Palace.

They do not look down upon him.

With shaking fingers, Aurum takes out every last piece of adornment in his hair and ears. Each cuff and ring and charm, the gold gleaming in his palm, the tiny red gems that had been woven into his braids. It takes longer than he'd like, struggling as he makes himself bare for the first time in his life.

The pile in his hands clatters as they shake. Aurum stares at the jewelry, what had marked him as one of the First and as a ghoul in service to the Prince. Some of the pieces had been his mother's, his father's, grandparents', some from ghouls even older and long gone before Aurum had been born.

Each and every one of them had spent their lives in service to the Prince.

Aurum snarls, staring up at Saint Jezebel. His back is to the Palace. "I asked for protection," he says slowly. Something burns in his chest, nasty and acrid and curling up the back of his throat. "I begged You for safety, from them, from her, and You ignored me. I thought I was Your child! I thought You fucking cared!"

His knees tremble. If he were any less angry, adrenaline burning through him stronger than his magic ever has, he might have fallen to them.

Instead, he balls his fist around the pile of adornment. The metal digs into the cuts on his palm. He turns, staring out the stained glass window out to where the Palace sits on the hill. He hopes the Prince can hear him.

"I'm not your fucking child anymore," he snarls, chest heaving. "I'm no one's."

He turns back to the statue of Saint Jezebel and throws his adornment at her feet. "Fuck You!" he screams, drowning out the sound of the metal clattering on the marble. Aurum's eyes burn, vision hazy. "If You wanted me to care, You wouldn't have made me bad, wouldn't have given them a reason to hate me. Fuck You."

Aurum turns and storms out of the chapel, slamming the doors behind him before he starts to run. The Palace is behind him.

For the first time in his life, Aurum leaves the City. And he doesn’t turn back.

#finally ready to share this fic and i'm equal parts terrified and excited #time to see if my worldbuilding holds water #also i'm not sorry for what i'm doing to swiss. he is my favorite and therefore gets to go through the Gauntlet.#i promise there will be a happy ending. he'll get there. but first the angst.#dot's writing #preach electric wip #eternal heatstroke #swiss ghoul #ghoul oc #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #cw child abuse #cw religious trauma #cw dissociation

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