#ghoul clergy au

[mintea-in-space]

Nihil and Sister Ghoul Clergy Au:

Detailed descriptions and some art under the cut, mostly their young selves before the other Papas came to power. I just felt like rambling

Nihil: Air/Water Multi (until the failed transition)

Born into a higher ranking family in hell, Nihil has always been the black sheep of his family. His lineage has served Satan and the throne for eons, but he never really lived up to his father’s expectations. He’s found by Sister after being cast out, and desperate to reclaim some of his honor, begs her to take him with her to the surface. Taking pity on him, (and seeing the perfect ghoul for her to manipulate) she agrees. He, Sister, and Psaltarian form a tight knit pack.

Still a stickler for tradition! Sometimes he fears that’s all he has left. The moment Secondo was born there was no doubt in his mind who his favorite son was. His little guppy is his best friend, and the two were two peas in a pod for a very, very long time. Swimming with Secondo in the lakes of hell are some of his fondest memories.

Air is his primary element and culture, but Nihil has one hell of a siren song on him. It’s been his undoing on more than one occasion, he often doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

Covered in short soft fur, with little bursts of fluffy feathers on his ears, elbows and shoulders. His fins were sharper. Almost everything was burned away in the failed transition ritual. His horns cracked and fell off, and his tail was so terribly mangled most of it had to be amputated. His gills charred and closed. This irreparably damaged his relationship with not only Secondo, but all of his sons. Primo angry that once again he had to step up to do what Nihil should’ve, Secondo angry because his father removed any and all commonalities they had, and Terzo would only take on his brothers’ pain and grief, and become angry that Nihil did that to them.

Sister Imperator: Fire/Quint Multi

Imp is one of the highest ranking ghouls in all of hell. She was an advisor before taking a leadership role, and was summoned by Satan himself to embark on an unholy mission on the surface. She is calculating, every step she’s ever taken has brought her here, and nothing will get in her way of spreading His message.

Or so she thought. Nihil was not her first choice, really. But it had to be someone. And he was swayed so easily, it would make her job that much easier. She and Psalitarian agreed on the end that he was perfect.

And then she realized she was falling for him. What started as manipulative seduction was quickly turning into real, true affection. It throws her for a loop at first, knocks her off kilter enough that all of a sudden they have a relationship, a real one. And one she’s fiercely possessive over.

When the events at Whisky A Go Goat happen, it takes everything in her to not burn the whole stupid bar down and spit on the ashes. She’s angry, of course she is, but as pathetic as Nihil’s groveling is she can’t help herself. Copia’s (and his twin’s) conception throws her for another loop, and both kits are sent back to hell, raised in separate families and in ignorance. Copia himself was raised by a fire pack, chosen by Imp herself, but none of them really know where he came from. It hurts her to send her sons away, and in her grief she isolates. That’s where Nihil’s failed transition comes in, and she realizes she can’t count on anyone but herself. At least Primo seems promising.

Is genuinely a good Mother Superior. She cares for mankind, in a slightly twisted way. Belief and awe give power, and as the ministry grows, so does Sister’s reputation. The humans of the abbey, her abbey, are under her protection. The outsiders…not so much. She doesn’t take kindly to disrespect, and the humans that she keeps close, (and one…special ghoul) are loyal to a fault. You make an enemy of one, you make an enemy of them all.

Has no fur. Her fingers and feet are blackened, like ash. Her horns and paw pads glow an eerie green. Fire is her primary element and culture. Can change her form to become pure light, a trait Copia inherited, often looking little a wisp of green flame. In the early days of the ministry, she and Psaltarian would hunt in the woods together, and Satan help any poor soul that was led astray by flickering colored lights after dark.

If you’ve made it this far, my ask box is open! I have so many thoughts about this concept that I can’t wait to talk about!

[purplequay]

mmmm. ghost bc + owl house au

these freaks ARE featured on my arted fight. come check them out

[nocturnal-birb]

Got another Plushia au

Plushia came from Primo’s garden, literally. In a church that worships Satanas and has a few magic with ghouls and blood- sometimes, unexpected things happens and that’s in a form of Plushia.

Plushia who grew out from a potato to a whole patato head being. Primo doesn’t know how he came to be like that but he was partially responsible for his upbringing to the clergy for watering him during his potato phase.

Until finally, Plushia turned his head at Primo and just stared at him with his head above ground and the rest below and let’s just say, it’s one of Primo’s weirdest being encounters within the ministry.

This Plushia is more mellow than demon Plushia in my other au.

[the-pigeon-queen]

Collection of things from my Antichrist Copia AU

Hey, so I've never posted anything like this before, but here we go! I'm actually currently typing a proper fanfic for this AU , so if spoilers for an eventual fic don’t bother you, feel free to keep reading!

Under the read more since this'll probably be long:

Copia is still Sister Imperator’s and Nihil’s biological son – but she conceived him under some fun satanic circumstances (I imagine a scenario like the one in the Dance Macabre music video lol human sacrifice, but throw in some music and an orgy for fun).

So, while Copia isn’t the biological son of the Devil From the Bible, he was still involved in the conception, maybe through Nihil.

Copia grew up in the Clergy – it’s all he’s known, but honestly, he can’t complain! Though he was raised, technically as an orphan, he still got everything he wanted!

Except friends, because those were sort of hard to make…

But still! He’s risen through the ranks with minimal difficulty, and has never really struggled! He genuinely works hard – and he’s proud of himself for it. He’s just unaware of how fixed his path actually is. Since he’s only known success, he does have a bit of an ego.

He’s a nepobaby but he does have genuine talent, and he does work for it.

Ghost is still a band, owned and operated by the Clergy, for the purpose of spreading it’s influence and finances.

Copia, as Cardinal, still takes over as frontman, and becomes Papa when Nihil passes

And he finds out that Sister Imperator is his mom! She’s always been a good boss, how neat is it that she’s his mother, too? It makes all those times he’s accidentally called her mom funny, now, instead of embarrassing.

She had to give him up, you see – but she never let him out of her sight. Even if she never changed any diapers, she was always right there! Always proud of him! That makes it alright, right?

Life goes on at the Ministry after that tour, he grows closer to his Ghouls, he enjoys his success –

But what’s that? There’s one more special ritual that he has to complete in order to officially become Papa? Of course he’ll do it, Sister! Anything you say!

After all, the Clergy gave him a home, and a job, and a life – what’s one more little ritual?

That one little ritual turned out to be rather unpleasant

We’re talking blood sacrifices, immense pain, a forced transformation that wreaks havoc on the body, and the awakening of something, from somewhere deep within him.

He doesn’t adapt well.

As the antichrist/devil warped thing he is, now, he’s a lot more… testy. He’s quicker to anger. He’s moody. He’s horny. All the time. It’s like a second puberty – except he’s in his forties and becoming a demon.

The mental aspect, dealing with new, strong temptations and urges, is hard enough, but there’s also an emotional struggle, too.

The Clergy that raised him did this to him. His mother lied to him. And why? No one will give him straight answers.

There’s the physical side, too – he feels like a freak. He feels wrong in his own skin. His wings hurt his back, he can’t hide his horns, he keeps stepping on his own tail.

He was supposed to have been born with all his demonic features, and grow into them, but he was apparently a late bloomer. And it took a blood sacrifice to crack him open and let out his infernal side.

His Ghouls comfort him and he finds comfort with them.

Eventually he cheers up. He starts making demands of the Clergy, demanding more, demanding better – he’s the antichrist, after all. The Clergy made him, and now it should serve him!

He tries flying! He breaks his legs, but he heals super fast now. So he tries flying again! And this time the only thing he breaks is a window!

He’s starting to feel more comfortable. More right. His urges are easier to handle. He’s singing again. He starts to feel happy again.

:)

The Clergy doesn't like that he's gaining a backbone, so they attempt a binding ritual to force him further under their control.

Said ritual involves crucifying his three brothers.

The Clergy is thwarted, and Copia takes off with his Ghouls and brothers to go do their own thing

And that's the outline I have so far :'] if you have any questions feel free to ask! I'd love to talk about it more lol

Right now the fic is Copia x poly ghouls just cause

[portaltothevoid]

God Called In Sick Today — Chapters 1 & 2

Summary: It’s the ghafia fic you didn’t know you needed… When a mission goes south, Copia is left scrambling to figure out a plan to get the mayor-to-be in favor of the Emeritus family. That’s where Arianna Diodati, the Mafia Princess of his (very Catholic) rival, comes in. He plans to use her as a bargaining chip to get what he wants. Did he place the right bet or did he take more than he bargained for?

Word count: 5.8k ~//~ Warnings: mafia au, copia x oc, death/murder, gun usage, angst, physically and verbally abusive relationship, domestic violence (between oc x oc), (brief, almost subtle) dacryphilia, kidnapping, dark copia, cliffhanger, enemies to lovers, slow burn

A/N: Surprise! It's a double feature! Fair warning, the next chapters won’t be up til I have a few under my belt so that they can be posted regularly and since I’m still working on You’re Losing Me as well… it might be a while. But I am so so excited for this, that I had to give you all a taste! Massive, massive thank you to @fishwithtitz @da-rulah and @copias-juicebox for beta reading and listening to me talk about this non-stop as I worked out the plot 🖤(photos in mood board all found on pintrest and dividers by @gothdaddyissues!)

Chapter One -- The Sermon and The Plan

It was never a good sign when Papa Emeritus IV demanded a mandatory mass that wasn’t on Sunday. Usually, meetings such as this would be for the upper echelon of the clergy and the Ghouls, but this time around, every single member of the Satan’s Ministry was in attendance. No one dared speak or even look away from their Papa as he stood, eyeing everyone in the room like the disappointed father he was. 

Those in the front row could hear his leather gloves squeak against the oak of the pulpit as he gripped it like a stress ball. His unique set of eyes, one green and one white, focused on one specific Ghoul. His expression darkened like an approaching storm, which made for his already intimidating skull-painted face to become menacing. As for the Ghoul, if it weren’t for the silver-horned mask covering his face, even Papa would have seen the beads of sweat dripping down the sides of it. He knew he was the reason everyone was here and why Papa looked beyond furious. He knew it the moment he saw the blue and red flashing lights at the docks.

“As most of you know,” the Satanic pope began, “our latest operation was thwarted by carelessness. All of you deserve to know why, but first, it isn’t a true Mass without a sermon, hm?” 

He clasped his hands behind his back as he turned to walk to his right, addressing those in the pews in front of him. “Pride and greed. Two sins that often go hand in hand. Sins which we celebrate here. It seems I need to remind you all that the celebration of sin, any sin, does not give one a free pass to do whatever the fuck they want, eh?”

He turned again, to walk to the other side of the sanctuary. “Every coin has two sides. At what point does living in sin, celebrating sins, become a hindrance? 

“Pride. An excessive belief in one’s abilities. Pride can make one think they are untouchable. Pride is the sin that pushes us to achieve greatness not just in the name of Satan, but for ourselves. And there, we find greed. A desire for wealth, for gain. But, again I ask you all, when does celebrating these glorious sins become a hindrance?” 

Now, he was in front of the pulpit. Leaning against it was a cane, something he only brought out for show or to inflict pain. While he was addressing everyone, his dichromatic eyes landed on the trembling Ghoul in the center. “Excessive or grandiose sinning becomes a deterrent when it puts the lives of others at risk, when it puts an institution, a family, that you’ve devoted your life to at risk.” Grabbing the cobra head handle, Papa gracefully jumped down to walk in front of the first row. “Many of you are aware of a mission we set out on recently. A mission to save helpless women and children from a sex-trafficking ring. There also was to be an exchange of money. These degenerates were exchanging quite a large sum of money for this transaction. Those prisoners were denied the choice of freedom we offer here. We were denied what was to be used as payment to put the malleable Gregory Osorio in our corner. We have very little time to come up with this sum to get a powerful, up and coming politician in our corner. One who could turn votes in our favor. One who would look out for us. One who would defiantly oppose the Diodati dickheads.

“This mission was not successful. By the time our Ghouls arrived, the prisoners were ‘rescued’ by the police. The money – that should have been ours – confiscated. I know many have wondered how this could have happened. Well, children, the answer is simple.

“Pride… and greed…” he spoke slowly, as he walked down the center aisle, dragging his cane along the ends of the pews. “Someone felt too secure in themselves… Felt they could just… open their fucking mouth to anyone who would fucking listen… while not realizing… They were fraternizing with an informant for the enemy.” He paused his promenade. “This was not a simple mistake. This was blatant negligence from someone who I know, for a fact, knew better. This Ghoul broke our Sacramentum Secreti (Oath of Secrecy).” He began walking again. His cane hit a pew with every word. “Internal problems will be dealt with.”

He stopped. Everyone turned to look at Papa, except for one Ghoul. Papa reached over, using the tip of his cane to force him to look at his figurehead, his boss. With a look that could kill and a wave of his hand, he indicated the Ghoul to walk in front of him back up to the sanctuary.

After twenty paces, “Ghoul, you seem to be limping. I wonder why that is… Is it because your pain and suffering is a message from La Famiglia Diodati?” he remarked snidely. 

When Papa planted himself behind the pulpit, he pointed the cane to indicate a spot on the ground. “Kneel,” he commanded. On shaky legs, the Ghoul did as he was told.

Papa dragged his gaze up to the choir loft before him, where one of his best Ghouls was waiting for the signal. Painstakingly slow, he looked back at the insurrectionist. “Per aspera, ad inferi,” he prayed. Again, he made eye contact with the one in the choir loft, giving a solitary nod.

In the blink of an eye, the Ghoul to Papa’s right jolted back slightly, a red dot forming in the center of his forehead. As deep burgundy liquid dripped from it, the congregation gasped, and the Ghoul toppled forward onto his masked face with a deafening thud.  

Papa bowed his head, but his eyes passed over everyone clutching their rosary beads in front of him. Somehow, this look was more sinister than it was at the start. “Let it be known that internal problems will be dealt with,” he paused dramatically, “by whatever means necessary.”

And with that, he turned heel and left through the back door, concluding mass.

“Do we really need Osorio this time around? Putting our efforts into driving back the Diodatis would be more beneficial,” Secondo, the second oldest Emeritus, argued. The highest members of the clergy and of the Emeritus family were gathered in their meeting room reserved for familial “business” matters. 

A leather clad fist slammed on the dark cherry wood table. “And what the fuck do you think getting Osorio on our payroll would do?” Papa snapped. Secondo just rolled his eyes in response. “We’re running out of fucking time.”

“There’s that charity gala, or whatever the fuck, tomorrow. I could just use my lascivious charm to reel in Osorio,” Papa’s predecessor and brother, Terzo, waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Papa pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning back in his luxurious leather office chair. 

“Copia, he actually–and it pains me to admit this–might be onto something. That gala could be a way in,” the eldest Emeritus agreed as he pressed his elbows into the table, his fingers interlacing in front of him, as he stared down his youngest brother and the church’s current Papa. 

Terzo waved his hand and his smirk deepened with Primo proving his idea had some merit. 

“We have nothing to give Osorio! The whole point of that mission was to dangle that money in his face,” Copia countered. 

“So instead we ask him his price,” Terzo shrugged nonchalantly. 

“How many of Sal’s men will be there?”

“I believe just his right-hand, Alessio Fidanza and his fiancée and probably only a handful of his associates,” Primo relayed. 

Copia’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of the fiancée. “Isn’t that Sal’s daughter? The prim and proper Mafia princess?”

“Sì.”

“For what it’s worth, my advice as your consigliere would be to attend this gala for recon purposes only. Yes, our time is running out, but we still have time to sway Osorio.” For the first time an older woman, who everyone called Sister Imperator, spoke up. She had been keenly observing Copia’s every move, just as any mother would her son, carefully watching knowing he was especially volatile right now. 

“And Sal, what about him? He’ll be there too?” Copia asked, ignoring the woman beside him.

“As far as we know, yes.”

A wicked, devilish smile spread across Copia’s face, exaggerating the black paint reminiscent of a rat’s skull around his mouth. 

“No… Copia, what are you thinking?” Sister Imperator asked hesitantly. She knew that look. They all did.

“Oh we’ll get some information. We will find out Osorio’s price and we will get Diodati’s attention.”

“Elaborate, brother,” Secondo said wearily. They knew Copia had just hatched a plan and from the look on his face, it was going to be far from easy.

“Diodati thinks he has the upper hand, sì? We can kill two birds with one stone. Show him who has the power here and get the money from him to pay off Osorio so those Catholic fucks can’t use God as a basis for politics.”

“And how exactly… would we do that? Are we intercepting one of their shipments or–” Sister Imperator began to ask hesitantly until she was cut off.

“It’s simple,” Copia stated. He leaned back in his chair casually this time, his elbows perched on the chair’s arm rests. He waved his hands in front him as if he was presenting a physical idea. “We kidnap la Principessa di Dio.”

Chapter Two -- You Should Be Scared

The last thing Arianna Diodati wanted to do was attend some pompous charity event chained to her fiancé wearing a designer dress she hated and a fake smile. She thanked God that she didn’t have to endure the after parties; she could retreat to solitude and her husband-to-be could do whatever (and most likely whomever) he wanted there. Not knowing what happened at those parties used to ruminate in her mind like a catchy pop song… until she actually found out. 

The infidelity bothered her at first, caused her to lose sleep at night, and question her worth. She used to be confrontational. She used to stick up for herself. She used to care. Arianna learned the hard way that Alessio Fidanza never actually wanted her or truly loved her. Maybe at first he did, but as time marched on, she came to realize the only thing he cared about was having an in with the most illustrious mafia family in New York City. The closer he got to her, the closer he got to Arianna’s father aka the boss of the Diodati family, and the higher up in the ranks he rose, the less he paid her any attention – or respect. In less than a handful of years Alessio was promoted as Salvatore Diodati’s right hand man. He learned the ropes, got enough blood on his hands, and eventually helped call the shots. She was used to her father dictating her life, but now, finding herself under the thumb of another man? There were only two things she could do: watch her life pass her by from behind barred windows and pray to God someone would eventually notice (and care enough about) her imprisonment to save her.

Nevertheless, she admired herself in the mirror; for once, she wore a dress that made her feel confident. Her black cherry red curls cascaded around her face. For a moment, she could see a sparkle, or a glimmer of hope, returning in her hazel eyes as she noted how the asymmetrical dress framed her body perfectly. Satin jersey panels on the two thirds of the dress accentuated her curves as it snaked down the length of it. It draped up, slightly off one shoulder while the other was a simple strap clad with the subtle (yet signature) Versace Medusa emblem. That side of the dress was a simple satin. A slit allowed one of her toned legs to peek through adding an air of sexy sophistication to the look. She was almost smiling until she heard her fiancé behind her.

“You’re wearing that tonight?” And with that snide question, the sparkle in her eye dimmed once more, returning to their usual lackluster shine.

“Um, yes? I showed it to you, remember? You said it would be fine…” she said hesitantly, her voice dancing on eggshells, and her small smile fading.

Alessio scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Do you think I pay attention to half the stuff you show me? If I saw something like that, I would have remembered. Wear the other Versace dress. The one I had Roberta pick up for you.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Specifically for tonight,” he added, his tone proving he had little patience for her tonight.

“But what’s wrong with this one? It’s not like it’s–”

He sprung at her, his nostrils flaring as he gripped her arms tighter than a blood pressure cuff. She fought back the tears that pricked in her eyes. “You look like one of Satan’s whores. Now,” he spoke through gritted teeth, “put on the other dress.” He shoved her back, her arms flew out to find purchase on the dresser beside her so she wouldn’t fall. The few perfume bottles that toppled over made an almost deafening sound amongst the tension. Her breathing was ragged as she glared at him. His look back at her served as a warning. 

She never understood how someone who claimed to be so devoted to God could be so evil, but she had to trust God’s plan for her. This all had to serve a purpose, didn’t it?

Her eyes closed as she composed herself, doing her best to stuff down the ever-raging storm of anger that lately seemed to be constantly brewing inside her. “Yes, Alessio. It’s the one still in the garment bag?”

Slowly he rolled his head up to look at the ceiling, before bringing it back to glare at her. “Obviously, you dumb bitch. Hurry up and get fucking changed. I can’t afford to be late tonight because of you,” he spat as he walked out of their room. 

Once more, she took a deep shuddering breath, her whole body trembling on the exhale. Stepping out of her preferred dress, she left the almost four thousand dollar garment lying crumpled on the floor. 

Now as she looked at herself in the mirror again, she saw a stranger she didn’t even recognize despite the only thing that physically had changed was her dress. She noted how her eyes seemed more hollow. The color in her face had paled. There was nothing but a stranger who once had dreams and ambition staring back at her. None of this felt real. 

The worst part of it all was that under any other circumstances, she would have loved wearing this. It was a black viscose material. A slim-fitting, hooded crêpe dress with a plunging V-neckline that was much more revealing than her own choice, but this one had long sleeves and went down to her mid-calf. There was a criss-cross belt also adorned with Versace’s Medusa logo, only this one was more prominent than the one on her choice of dress. 

She let out a humorless laugh as she adjusted the long sleeves. All she wanted tonight was to feel confident, to show off some skin, because things had been relatively quiet as of late. Alessio was kept busy, his attention divided elsewhere. For the first time in a while, her arms didn’t look like an abstract painting. 

If she had been the one to pick out this dress, her sentiments towards it would have been different. She didn’t want to hide, but this was what Alessio wanted her to wear. There was no way around that unless she wanted to pay the price. Letting out a heavy sigh, she put the hood up. This dress felt like the most high end and lavish prison jumpsuit. No one would know how much it felt like she was wearing shackles, a stark reminder that her choices were never own. But at least tonight she wouldn’t have to come up with a lie to explain the fresh bruises on her arms.

A single tear slid down her face, which she quickly wiped away. With a shake of her head, she put her emotions under lock and key, tucking it away into a dark corner of her mind. She practiced her million dollar smile and nodded to herself, putting her shoulders back and her chest out –a mirage of confidence and happiness– and made her way to the Bentley that was waiting for her. 

No matter the formal event, the routine was almost always the same. Arianna would find her father, talk to and dance with who he (or Alessio) told her to, have two strong drinks (but no more than that or else she’d have to deal with a very irate Alessio), fake pleasantries with the other ladies who were just as much a prisoner to this life as she was, then once the crowd began thin, could she retreat. Tonight would be no different. At least, that's what she had assumed.

She greeted her father with a kiss on the cheek. “Arianna, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he father said, ushering over to a man that was just about six or seven years older than her. He looked just like everyone else here like he came from money and would stop at nothing to get more. “Greg, this is my daughter, Arianna. Arianna, this is Gregory Osorio, our soon to be Mayor.”

This Greg guy let out a low whistle as he looked Arianna up and down. “Sal, you weren’t kidding. She is absolutely stunning. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so many things about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” she said with a smile that would never quite reach her eyes. 

“Oh, absolutely! Your dress looks like it was made for you. Ah, how do you say it… You look… bellissima!” 

“You’re too kind. Alessio convinced me to wear this tonight. I have to give all the credit to him,” she laughed, keeping up the ruse of niceties as Alessio dug his fingers into her side. It was his retaliation for the subtle jab she just made at him, even though these people would never ever know that it was. 

“Fidanza, you are a lucky man!” 

“I thank God everyday for her,” Alessio said, giving one more bruise-worthy squeeze on Arianna’s waist. He dropped his hand when everyone’s attention snapped towards the door. The group that had just arrived turned heads as they sauntered in. 

“Who invited those Emeritus fucks?” Sal snapped. 

“Copia put a call in himself to my office about a sizable donation for tonight. I figured if he's willing to be a top donor–perhaps even the top donor tonight–they might as well enjoy some of the festivities, no?” Osorio responded cautiously. “If you’ll excuse me, Sal…”

They exchanged nods as Gregory meandered through the crowd. Sal snapped his fingers. “I want eyes on them. They’re fucking up to something. Never once have they given a shit about things like this.”

“On it, boss,” one of his men said before he disappeared amongst the throng of people.  

Arianna never liked the Emeritus family. In fact, she borderline hated them with their menacingly painted faces and blasphemous way of life. She never quite understood how they rose to rival that of her family. Perhaps they really did make a deal with the devil.

“I’m going to grab a drink,” she said quietly. Alessio just waved her off, her father already in a passionate discussion regarding something she couldn’t care less about.

She made her way to the bar, getting the attention of one of the bartenders. “Your usual, Ms. Diodati?”

“Yes, please,” she smiled. 

It wasn’t long until she felt a pair of eyes on her from the other end of the bar. She looked up to see Copia, the ringleader of the Satanic circus, staring her down like a hunter watching its prey. It sent a shiver down her spine, but all he saw was the scowl that encapsulated her face. That only made him smirk at her.

She rolled her eyes in disgust, looking away from him. Out of the corner of her eye, though, when she knew his attention was back on someone that wasn’t her, she couldn’t help herself from taking in his appearance. She hated to admit, he looked… elegant. His burgundy pants were impossibly tight in all the right ways. It pained her to acknowledge the way they perfectly hugged his thighs. He had foregone his suit jacket, leaving just his matching burgundy vest and black dress shirt and tie. His sleeves were rolled up and she could see his muscles flex as he grabbed his drink.

Her eyes lingered for a few seconds too long. This time, he caught her watching him. His mouth curled up again into a sly half-smile as he took a drink. His dichromatic eyes never left her. The instant her drink hit the counter, she brought it to her lips and weaved her way through everyone back to Alessio in hopes of putting distance between her and whatever exchange had just taken place.

Shortly after she resumed her role as the token arm candy she was, did her father tense up when a leather clad hand slapped his shoulder. “Salvatore! Come stai (how are you)?”  

“Copia,” he greeted stiffly. “To what do we owe this… surprise?” The words rolled off his tongue as if they made his skin crawl. 

“Can’t a man just be willing to support a good cause such as this?”

Sal’s only response was to purse his lips. Copia was reveling in the fact that just his presence alone was getting under his enemy’s skin. “Say, Copia, did you hear about the girls that were rescued from trafficking by the docks the other day?” A condescending smirk now replaced the sour look on his face.

Copia’s eyes darkening was the only acknowledgement of Sal’s jab he let slip. “Ah, yes, thank the Gods below they’ve been transferred from one prison to another, being treated as criminals instead of victims.”

“Well, a whore contained is better than a whore on the street.”

Copia laughed sneeringly. “Ah, and I’m sure by whore, you mean a two-bit one. Tell me, though, what are the plans after this? Anyone escorting you to the after party?” he smirked as it was Sal’s turn for his expression to darken. 

Arianna didn’t realize she was watching this with bated breath, or that she was clinging to Alessio until he shook her off him. Copia's eyes immediately darted to Arianna’s fiancé breaking free of her almost death grip to take a step towards him. “You know, since you’re here, a thanks is in order,” Alessio said cunningly. “Those girls couldn’t have been saved without the helpful information one of your soldiers let slide right off his tongue. I’ve gotta say, that was a lucky group of girls.”

“Life’s just a game of luck, isn’t it?” Sal chimed in with a shrewd smile directed at Copia. 

“And I thank you as well, gentlemen, for helping me shed some dead weight.” The tenison grew thick as the flames of their rivalry were fanned with each remark. “But, a real man makes his own luck.” He casted a quick astute glance with an accompanying nod to Sal before he turned to directly face Arianna. “Perdonami,” he murmured gently, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “Arianna, e come stai stasera, principessa (and how are you tonight, princess)?” 

Her heart thumped wildly against her sternum and her eyes flashed nervously over to Alessio. She knew somehow this man’s unprompted actions would be her fault. Both men noted immediately how her body stiffened. One was amused by her fear while the other felt a pang of pity. “Bene, grazie (good, thank you),” she piped up meekly. 

“Would it be alright if I stole la bella donna (the beautiful woman) for just one dance?” he asked the two men beside him, only taking his eyes off Arianna for a mere second.

Giving Alessio a slap on the back, “She’s practically yours now, son. That’s your call to make,” her father laughed as he walked off towards the bar.

Arianna widened her eyes, begging Alessio to say no. Rolling his lips between his teeth as he pondered his decision quickly. He nodded, another sly smile curling the edges of his mouth. “One song wouldn’t hurt, eh? Careful though, she’s a pistol. Hope you can handle her. Lord knows some days I barely can.”

Copia laughed dryly. “I think someone of my stature knows how to handle one of those quite well,” he challenged, ushering Arianna away quickly.

Alessio reached out and grabbed her by the arm, just like he had earlier, turning her towards him. She inhaled sharply through gritted teeth at the pain as he had constricted her already tender bruises. “I’ll be waiting by the bar for you,” he hummed as his eyes flicked back and forth between Arianna and her new dance partner, before they lingered on her. She knew that look on his face. It was another warning. Without a sound, he let go of her, and followed the path of her father.

Copia’s arm snaked around her waist. He made it a point to do it gingerly, but that did nothing to calm her rattling nerves. “You’re trembling, cara,” he noted quietly, turning to face her, placing a hand on her hip on the same spot Alessio’s fingers left painful imprints. Her eyes fluttered shut when she involuntarily shied away from him. He eyed her curiously as he switched hands, placing one on her opposite hip and taking her hand in his other. She never quite understood the random ballroom dancing that happened at some of these parties.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

A sinister laugh quietly bubbled from him as he leaned to whisper in her ear, “You really should be.”

“And why’s that?” she challenged as they stepped in time together. Unsure of how, or why, but she could feel some of her old fire ignite inside her. 

“Now, now, if I answered that it would ruin the surprise.”

She spoke in a way so her lips didn’t move, but Copia could understand her muffled words perfectly: “My father has eyes on you, you know.” This came off as more of a warning of caution than a threat. 

“I’d expect nothing less from him. The real question is, does he have eyes on you?”

“I highly doubt it. I’ve proven to him I’ve learned from my rebellious ways,” she scoffed.

“Oh?”

“The consequences aren’t worth the… It serves no purpose anymore.”

After a few beats of silence, Copia asked, “Why do you let them treat you like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like they own you.”

For the first time since their dance began, she looked directly into his two-toned irises. Her breath hitched. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone, never mind a practical stranger, had even acknowledged her feelings or that she might have any at all. Her life wasn’t her own; it was already planned out. She could picture her life with Alessio as if she already lived. It’s mostly the reason she had become a shell, a carbon copy of herself. She felt like she was standing on the edge of a tall cliffside with no one to pull her back and no one who noticed, or even cared… So why was her father’s sworn enemy acting as if he did? And why in God’s name did it make her stomach flip and her heart flutter? “Because they do,” she finally managed to say through barely parted lips.

As the song ended, Copia regarded her with a smug, yet sympathetic look. He stepped towards her, pressing his body against hers, bringing his forehead down to hers. Standing there frozen, there was nothing she was able to do except stare into the most intriguing pair of eyes she’d ever seen. “Il mio agnellino (my little lamb)…” he purred. A devilish smile creeped onto his face. “I’ll see you soon.” 

He abruptly left her standing there like a deer in headlights with her heart hammering in chest, and disappeared into the crowd. She sucked in a deep, ragged breath as she looked around checking to see if there were any witnesses to what just happened. 

That man was evil. She knew this. He was ruthless. He worshiped the devil. He was the enemy.

And yet, what terrified her the most wasn’t his veiled threats, but her reaction to them. There was an allure to him, an air of mystique. Someone heard her faint cries for freedom… She shook it off and went to find Alessio, fearing what he would do if she waited any longer.

Arianna caught his eye as she walked up to him leaning against the bar, alone. He knocked back the remainder of his drink and forcefully grabbed her wrist, dragging her out to a deserted hallway. Not a single person batted an eyelash as they rushed past. 

Once he assumed they were completely by themselves, he forced her up against the wall. Her back stinging in protest as the coolness of the concrete seeped into her skin. Unbeknownst to the nowhere-near-happy couple, Copia and his ghouls were waiting in a nearby room. Every part of his plan was falling in place like dominos. 

“Alessio wh–” Arianna started to question, but was cut off by Alessio slamming his fist on the wall right next to her head.

While he now had her caged in, he pointed a finger in her face. “What the fuck was that about? You fucking wanted to dance with that vermin?”

She stared at him in horror. Even though she knew he would pull this card, it never made it easier any time it happened. “What are you talking about?! Did you miss the look I gave you? I wanted nothing to do with him! I wanted you to say the ‘no’ that I couldn’t!”

“You wanted–” he scoffed. “You wanted me to say no? Since when do I make your decisions for you?”

“Only every fucking day of my life!” she spat back at him, seething. Though he embodies sin and everything unholy, when Copia switched the hands on her hips, when he noted her fear… Those actions, so subtle, spoke volumes. She was reminded of what it means when a person has compassion, empathy, and even a trace of humanity inside them. If she ever experienced that with Alessio it had long be wiped from her memory, overridden by every terrible thing he had done to her and put her through.

The rage that erupted from him, the hatred that bled from his eyes, haunted her nightmares. Instantly after the words left her mouth, her whole body tensed. When the blow from his hand landed across her face, she didn’t even have time to react before he gripped her arms again, somehow even harder than the two previous times.

“You think you can just go dance with another man without looking like one of the devil’s whores? Maybe I should have let you wear that dress, since here you are, being one instead of just looking like one.” He shook her as he berated her. 

“Alessio, please, you’re hurting me,” she whimpered, tears streaming down her face as her fiancé screamed at her. His voice drowned out from the thumping music and the raucous party-goers in the other room.

“You little fucking cunt, if it wasn’t for your father I would have left your pathetic ass years ago,” he snarled through his teeth just before he tossed her to the ground like a rag doll. “Get the fuck home. I don’t want to deal with this right now. And you better think of a good way to make this up to me…” he warned before he cracked his neck, fixed his shirt cuffs, and sauntered back into the party. 

Quietly, she sobbed into the tile floor. Her body was alight in a flame of pain. “Please, God. Please help me. I can’t… I just can’t…”

A hand gently touched her shoulder. She recoiled, flinching, and pressed herself into the wall behind her.

“Oh, Principessa,” Copia tutted. He crouched down in front of her and used his thumb to wipe away her tears. She watched as he brought his hand closer to inspect how they glistened on his leather glove. His eyes bored into hers as he brought his thumb to his mouth, nearly sensually cleaning off her agonized tears with his tongue. Fear coursed through her harder than the adrenaline did when she spoke back to Alessio. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that God called in sick today,” he leaned in closer, hovering over her forebodingly, “and he sent me to handle your prayers,” he cooed disparagingly. 

He stepped back from her, offering to help her up. She stared at his hand, her eyes wide with panic. When he waved it to snap her out of her trance, she scrambled to her feet. Automatically fearing supposed repercussions. 

“How much… how much of that did you hear?” she whispered.

“All of it.” With a snap of his fingers two ghouls appeared, seemingly out of nowhere from Arianna’s perspective, and grabbed her arms. Their grip firm, but it wasn’t lost on her how they somehow managed to avoid touching where Alessio had hurt her. 

“Wh-what are you doing? Let me go. Let go of me!” she cried out, feebly attempting to wriggle from the ghouls’ grasps. 

Copia stepped forward, taking her face in his hands. His thumbs stroked her cheeks. With his face inches from hers, that diabolical smile reappeared. “I’m sorry about that too, but I can’t allow that. You see, il mio agnellino, you won’t be going home tonight.” He snaked his hands down from her face and along her neck before he leaned in so close to her, his breath tickled her ear. The way his lips moved against her skin sent shivers down her spine. “I told you. You should be scared of me.”

As he backed away from her, a third ghoul put a cloth over her mouth. Her screams were muffled as she tried to thrash and escape from her captors. Soon, her movements slowed and her vision blurred. The last thing she remembered seeing was that haunting pair of eyes, one green and one white, watching her with a smirk that rivaled that of the devil’s, before something covered her head and plunged her into darkness as her body went limp.

Next Chapter || taglist: @gorie-talks-a-lot @haelithra @love-is-all-you-need-13 @lydzlore @megachaoticstupid @onlyhereforghost  @state-of-longing @werich @whenparadiseislost 

[ficandkaboodle]

Papa’s Favorite Ghoul: Primo

Banner Credit Goes to @saradika-graphics! Word Count: 3281

Man, where do I even begin? I guess by stating that there’s two tropes I like: AUs where characters switch dynamics, and when characters or people go by titles that don’t traditionally align with their gender identity. Like woman kings or, in the case of Star vs the Forces of Evil, Jushtin the Boy Queen. Admittedly they’re more so applied to align with the importance placed on patriarchal and/or matriarchal power but we’re not getting into that. Nor are we getting into the kind of weird patriarchal traits of the Catholic Church the Church of Ghost keeps hold to — there are real-world explanations for them, I suppose, and this is fanfiction.

What we are getting into is my blending of the two aforementioned tropes to create this…Well, I guess it’s a series of sorts now because each character segment got too hefty to belong to one singular post. My bad. But I digress:

Somewhere out there, there is a universe where you were a part of the bloodline that has long reigned the Satanic Church as a dark papal dynasty. And now the title of Papa, for better or worse, has fallen upon you. You’ve trained your entire life for this — mephistophically, that is. But few things can prepare someone for dealing with ghouls more than actual exposure can. And now with the task of utilizing music to corrupt and recruit falling upon you, you’ll have plenty of time to become familiar with these literal hellions.

Don’t worry, though: If there’s one thing that has remained consistent throughout the millennia, it’s that a Papa almost always finds that one ghoul form whom they develop a fondness for . . .

You had not, in fact, been the one to summon the ghoul known around the Ministry as “Primo”.

He had been walking these unhallowed grounds since before you were born. A ghoul having an extended tenure topside wasn’t unheard of, but the implications set by his humanoid appearance of a very tall old man seemed to punctuate that point. Was he genuinely that old? Did he use a bit of ghoul magic to influence his appearance? You weren't going to ask.

Coupled with the way he carried himself, his presence commanded respect, something which the Clergy had been surprisingly willing to oblige despite his species.

Primo was, for all intents and purposes, the ideal ghoul: He had an intense work ethic, he was loyal, and he was tame enough to be of use while also posing a threat to anyone who did the same towards the Clergy.

Even something as simple as his horns seemed perfect for his position: The four horns of a Jacob sheep’s spiked warningly from his flesh, the perfect sort of horns for a ghoul of the Satanic Church to bear if there ever was any!

Even though his original summoner had long since passed, they never asked him if he wanted to return to the Pit. And, to their credit, Primo never expressed any desire to. It was that kind of dedication that endeared him so and kept him at the ready to be a conduit for the Old One’s message.

It was also probably the only reason why he’d involved himself in the “Ghost Project” you had recently proposed in a board meeting, even though he had made it extremely apparent that he did not see you as worthy of the title of Papa. If anything, he did so in order to keep an eye on you.

Primo had served many Papas in his time topside. Suffice it to say, you were nothing like any of them! Where your ancestors commanded their dark flock, Primo felt you merely timidly nudged them. Where the Papas of yore spat promises of the Dark One's ire and the rot of man, you seemed to more so focus on concepts of personal principle. Not entirely incorrect, but it certainly felt like a watered down method of leading.

Where was the damned soul made of brimstone and hellfire? Where was that penetrating glare that could freeze the doubters? All the old ghoul saw when you assumed the mitre was a soft-spoken slip of something or other that had fumbled their way through the bloodline. Had it not been for The Mark that paled your left eye, he might have more vehemently – more violently – questioned your ascension.

But the Clergy made no movements to dismiss or discard you, and Primo had never been one to take impulsive action. So here he began to find himself: Sitting at a drum set for rehearsals, battering away whilst his peers made fools of themselves as they writhed about, mimicking sexual proclivities or just plain goofing off.

But for as much as he would glower at them, his true poison was always fixated on you: You, who clearly just wanted the attention the Dark One was supposed to be receiving. You, who was just plain wasting his time – time that could be put to more use around the Ministry instead of spending hour upon hour listening to you warble the same cheesy lyrics, bastardizing unholy psalms passed down through millennia.

But he was nothing if not a professional, attending all rehearsal sessions, barely speaking unless it was to keep the more juvenile bandmates in line. Though more often than not, need only shoot them a sharp stare with those magma-red eyes of his and they would stop immediately.

That was all you needed when, surprised that he would pick something as raucous as the drums, you attempted to offer something not as physically demanding or requiring of too much movement.

You had meant nothing by it, of course. If anything, it was an attempt on your part to at least try and build a communication with one of the people (?) you would be working with indefinitely. Your peers and predecessors as a whole weren’t known for extending much kindness to the ghouls under their power; that was something you wanted to change during your reign. The rest of the ghouls, bandmates and Ministry-established alike, seemed to appreciate that well enough but Primo . . . Well . . .

Weren’t earth ghouls supposed to be less . . . intense? Stubborn and a twinge terse, perhaps, but usually they still had a bit of gentleness to them after a point. But then again, Primo was in a class of his own. Or maybe he’d just been a fire ghoul at some point? Might explain the eyes . . .

Really, though, the praise you’d heard regarding his dedication towards Papas past had yet to make any real appearance beyond him not taking you out. And perhaps volunteering to participate in your brain child, though you felt that was more so out of obligation to the Church rather than out of any real reverence.

Given how blatant he had made his dislike of you from the get-go, you decided to accept his (admittedly impeccable) drumming skills as the closest thing to respect you were going to ever get out of him. Much like the Clergy, you weren’t going to look this gift horse in the mouth too hard.

Your magnum opus couldn't afford it and for as confident as you were in the prospects of it, you knew you would need all the help you could get. Even if some of it came from an ancient earth ghoul who wished you would keel over so the next guy could take over.

If Primo could grit his teeth, then you sure as shit could to get the results you were looking for. Even if the results meant enduring painstakingly awkward rehearsals, right up until Ghost's very first performance.

Primo knew not to expect much in the way of venues. After all, bands that merely copied their principles never had an easy foothold in the world, never mind an actual band representing the Church. In the end, it did make the most sense to perform in lowly places, places inhabited by those most vulnerable and willing to lend an ear. Still: He had not anticipated this . . . “Whiskey a Go Go” place to be your debut. Oh well. The crowd here clearly looked susceptible enough; he could handle it.

He didn’t approve of you donning your chasuble for such an event but at that point, what did it even matter? He just needed to literally play his part and get this over with. Maybe then this tomfoolery could be put to bed and you would be reprimanded for wasting the Ministry’s time and resources, sullying their trust.

At least, that had been the idea when the first song was signaled in.

But as the setlist progressed, Primo couldn’t help but note how his expectations weren't being met. In fact, quite the opposite was beginning to take hold. Like how the words sounded different even though they were the same ones he’d heard ad nauseum.

Snippets and verses clipped from corrupt hymns made themselves right at home in the measures, something he’d internally protested the first times he’d recognized their presence.

Rhythms sounded more coordinated against the acoustics of the venue, far different from the way they resonated in the makeshift practice room back at the Abbey. This was what they were meant to sound like? Not a tangled mess of notes and words struggling and biting and fighting for dominance, but actual music stretching to the rafters? Huh. Who would’ve thought?

And all the shenanigans his peers had participated in – back at the Ministry, it seemed so juvenile, so distracting. They weren’t taking this shameful display with any kind of seriousness. But in that moment, the jumping, the showboating, even the gyrating all seemed right at home on the stage.

But above all else, it was the response to it all: Audiences loved it. They loved the words, the chords, the riffs, the "ghouligan" behavior. And, perhaps most of all, they seemed to love you. Who you were, in this moment, was far from whom Primo had been seeing – whom he thought he saw – in the pulpit and at rehearsals.

All that had been apparent child's play. Or perhaps they were simply the wrong environment for your fullest potential. Here, on the stage, you positively bloomed, transforming into something radiant, something filled with infernal fervor. A little hell flower decked in infernal regalia, your chasuble catching the stage lights like petals collecting sunlight.

During the few times you would turn your back to the audience and faced him, he could see it even from his furthermost position in the back: That fire he thought you lacked, blazing from your every pore, brightening your eyes and casting long, dark shadows upon all before you.

Primo had been right: You truly were unlike any Papa he’d ever served before . . .

From then on, Primo was to decidedly keep a closer eye on you. No more having the rug pulled from beneath him. Clearly you were like a mystery seed: He had no idea what your potential truly was, having not quite encountered something like you before. As such, you needed to be . . . studied. If at a distance, for now.

However, it's a bit difficult to go unnoticed when you're a 6'1" ghoul with large horns when out of a glamour. Never mind that you had grown so used to his stare being fixed on you that you always knew when it had reappeared. Only, you couldn't help but feel that something about it was . . . different. Somehow.

It was normal enough to feel them during black mass because everyone's eyes were on you. But to feel them when you would go to the library to request old tomes even most Clergymen did not seek; when you slipped members of the Children's Ministry candy to perk them up after a particularly boring Latin Studies class with Bishop Malicion. Even in what should have been the sanctity of your office, you swore you could feel those red-hot eyes affixed to your person!

But the heat of them was gone now, and hadn't quite been there since the Whiskey a Go Go. Instead, they felt more curious. Maybe like a cat? Ghouls were often likened to cats above all other manner of beast but Primo had only resembled one in the way he composed himself. A trait like intrigue just seemed bizarre to picture him exhibiting, let alone so obviously.

However, you were still Papa throughout all this: Best not to dwell on it and instead keep focusing on keeping your project afloat. You would deal with whatever was going on with old Primo later.

(Though you couldn't stop yourself from feeling slightly giddy at the possible improvement. Having him give you the slightest hint of a nod while passing in the hallways was leagues better than having him radiate bloodlust or disdain!)

Later, however, came quicker than you had prepared yourself for. In fact, it arrived one curtain call during the band’s slow creep towards notoriety.

In hindsight, the fact he willingly held your hand for the final bow should have been a sign that something about tonight was going to be different. Normally, if he had to join hands with anybody, he made sure to position himself at the very end so he need only spare one hand and with another ghoul. Being virtually in the middle with you would have required effort on his part.

But you were abuzz, the performance having gone splendidly with a highly receptive and interactive crowd. You were quite proud of yourself and your ghouls if you said so yourself. Maybe the energy that evening was just enough to make Primo feel less rigid than usual?

You’d only just risen up from your bow, ready to release his hand when you noticed that he himself was not letting go of your own. Odd, considering he’d done so with the other ghoul he'd been holding. You tried not to look perplexed when you spared him a glance; maybe something was wrong and he needed you to be on high alert? Though, no, that wound up not being the problem – in fact, there was no problem whatsoever.

He just needed to keep your hand in his so that he could raise the back of your hand to his mask – where his mouth would be.

It was a pantomime of a kiss, sure, but the gesture was still very evident. Screeches of delight erupted from the audience below as heterochromatic eyes widened against black paint, staring at scarlet ones peering through the eyeholes of a mask.

Suffice to say, what fans Ghost had already garnered had a field day. Soon, fanzines featuring the visage of their new favorite band's lead singer and drummer would appear in grungy coffee shops and to be swapped at both Ghost shows and shows of other bands. It wasn't Time Magazine but the marketing practically handled itself, and that was good enough for the Ministry to quietly applaud Primo's forwardness.

Clearly the Ministry's favorite ghoul knew what the people wanted and took it upon himself to stoke the flames to drum up further intrigue and popularity.

So surely it made sense to continue fostering this relationship, right? For the good of authenticity, of course.

It wasn’t long at all before you found yourself confiding in Primo, bouncing lyrics off of him. Lyrics turned into discussions, dissections of your faith’s principles and even a few misconceptions that most were too tired to correct at this point.

And he, in turn, used his many, many, many years of wisdom in his services to you.

Even divulging into his life before the Ministry, what little there was worth recounting. There was good reason he’d stayed up here so long after all: Life topside was just so different, so brightly-lit when compared to the Pit. Sure, he might’ve been built exactly for the life infernal, but that didn’t mean that a ghoul lacked a capacity for more.

The biggest example in his case was the garden he’d kept during his time here. It was almost funny: You’d walked these grounds for so long, so used to the presence of the greenhouse that sat towards the back of the garden. The brightness of the vegetation and bushes stood out from its darker, more gothic-leaning surroundings in an almost silly way.

Really, though, your only real interactions with that section of the Ministry could be boiled down to times spent in your office. The window there allowed just enough of a view of the little land below, one you couldn’t help but look at when the tensions in your poorly-postured back traveled into your skull, or when a delivery ghoul delivered more heaps of papers for you to look over and sign. (Suddenly, feeling Primo's intense gaze on you even when you thought you were alone made sense.)

Your path to the antipapacy was basically carved out for you, it ironically left very little room for extracurriculars such as gardening. But you could always count on catching a Sibling or earth ghoul or two, hauling heavy sacks of soil and carting that season’s harvest in a wheelbarrow.

Their decision to spend their time on such a long-term task that demanded constant attention and dedication was admirable to you. You could relate to focusing in on a project that would take time and focus.

And to see their efforts be rewarded with something brilliant and fortifying, something that caught the eye and could be used to nourish both the body and mind . . .

In way, perhaps seeing the hardships that produced flowers and fruit might have served as inspiration and motivation for your idea to entice the masses with music. Just a twinge.

To learn that the very things that refreshed you in your moments of exhaustion had grown under the same watch as the one that had once wished you ill initially amazed you. And amused you.

The idea of ever having been afraid of Primo seemed so silly now, you couldn’t even remember what the heat of his ire felt like. If anything, the pierce of Primo’s gaze had softened into something . . . Well, the proper words escaped you any time you tried to settle on one. "Passionate" mixed with "admiration", but still with its tenderness.

As it turned out, that warmth earth ghouls were often characterized with did exist in the old curmudgeon. It was exhibited as the years marched on and as you both grew closer.

It was there even in small moments such as this, with you kneeling in the soil, planting your umpteenth flower. You had learned under his watch years ago and no longer needed instruction, but it still felt lovely to share this type of thing together. Even after all this time.

A grunt escaped you as you wobblily stood back up from aching knees, another when you cracked your back.

“One of these days, Primo,” you sighed, “I’m gonna get down and not be able to get back up. You can just bury me here, then.”

It was a joke, of course, and you were totally prepared to not get a laugh from the old ghoul. Primo’s sense of humor, you’d long since learned, was as mysterious as it was strange. It was frankly a wild guess as to what would make him laugh on any given day. What you hadn’t prepared for, though, was the way the ghoul’s eyes stared back at you. You didn’t feel unsafe or anything, but you certainly felt . . . observed.

There was that curious cat vibe that had started it all from way back when. But, knowing Primo as you now did, you knew he was simply collecting thoughts. He would eventually reveal them to you in due time.

In the meantime, though, it served you better to shake it off. Supper would be served shortly, anyway.

“Remember to wash up,” you offered, standing as high on your toe tips as you could just to place a peck on the soft, weary flesh of his neck. To that, you received a quiet grunt typical of your partner.

As you left, though, Primo kept his eyes on you, tail thoughtfully swaying behind him. He remembered seeing you sparingly in your youth, which was impressive considering how unimportant you’d been back then. You weren’t Papa, you weren’t anything, really. You weren’t important to him.

But now, years later, here you stood: Wrinkles that weren’t there before were beginning to carve their permanence into your features, standing out even through your papal paints. Just the other month, you’d noted an increase in silver strands popping up in your hair. You sighed something about the stresses of dealing with the next projected tour or an onslaught of paperwork, but Primo knew that soon, more silver would come sprouting out at your temples. More than you’d probably bother dyeing, if he knew you. If he knew the people before you.

He'd seen this all happen before, many, many times. You may have been different from all other Papas he’d known, but all Papas were alike in this one way.

A heavy sigh broke him from his stagnation, and Primo began to trek back to your chambers to wash up. Before he even entered the building proper, his mind was made: If and when your time came, Primo would finally request to return back to the Pit.

[mancer-in-the-abbey]

hi mancer!! so i was just perusing my own alpha ghoul tag and came across your soulmate au ficlet (that i ADORE) and was wondering if you had any more soulmate headcanons or thoughts for the other papas or ghouls. only if it itches your brain, of course!

♡- @ghuleh-recs

HOOOOOOOMYGOD I am so sorry this has taken me so long to get to 😭 I was completely out of the fandom there for a hot minute but I’m back now that I have the time to write again. Thanks so much!! I’m so glad you liked it, that means the world to me, genuinely!

Part of the reason this took so long is because ohhhhhh boy, let me tell you, the story of Copia’s soul marks is a train wreck since I am a DIEHARD for Copia x Polyghouls. Here’s a link to the original concept for those interested, this got a bit long so I’m putting most of it under a read more :)

Now anyway:

Copia, unlike Terzo, was not born with any soul marks. In fact, he lived the majority of his life completely blank, no sign of any soulmate to begin with.

This, while certainly uncommon, isn’t the most unheard of. Sometimes people just… don’t have a soul mate. This is an especially prevalent phenomenon amongst The Clergy, who celebrate a lack of soulmate as a sign of being favored by The One Below, a true freedom away from fate as written.

And this is all well and good, but for Copia it was just one more difference between him and his brothers, all of whom have soul marks. I mean, even Secondo had a soul mark! Secondo! And HE doesn’t?? Feels a little personal. Imperator tries to comfort him on the subject in her own way, but phrasing it as having “no distractions from your duty as part of the church” really just makes him feel more alone than anything.

Be that as it may, Copia spends the majority of his adult life under the impression that he has no soulmate. It hurts some days more than others, but it is something he learns to accept over the years.

Until one day, after a completely mundane shift at the treasury, Copia strips off his Cardinal uniform to find his entire right forearm almost completely black, with trails of galaxies and stardust spiraling up from his wrist before petering out at the elbow.

So Copia quietly freaks the fuck out because “unholy shit what the fuck is this I’m never going to be able to wear short sleeves again” but eventually he puts two and two together to realize this must be a soul mark, which must mean his soulmate was either JUST born (ew) or was just summoned from Hell (much more plausible and much less ew.)

And Copia is utterly ecstatic! He has a soulmate! Praise Satan! Dude spends the rest of the week giggling to himself about it, so much so his brothers think he’s got an honest-to-Asmodeus crush on someone and all of them are desperate to know who their favorite little rat has got their eye on.

At their behest, Copia promises to show them what exactly he’s been so excited about at their next game night. On the night of, he strips off his uniform and rolls up his sleeve-

Only to find more patterns bleeding up his elbow where there once was blank skin.

Taking off his button-up shirt reveals that the spiral of stars and nebulas had grown into drops and rivulets of water, creeping up his right arm like rain on a window and spilling into a pool on his deltoid.

Copia, nearly has a fucking heart attack while the rest of his brothers stare in awe at the art, holding his arm this way and that so the patterns are visible in the dim light of the game room. As they start to brainstorm who the tattoos might match to, however, Copia cuts in, not wanting to rush into finding his soulmates.

For one, if they really were freshly-summoned ghouls like he thought, they’d likely not be familiar with the concept and starting out the gate with such a proclamation would scare them off. For another, while Imperator might have a soft spot for Copia and is much less the monster some make her out to be, she would still likely have opinions about her little Cardi suddenly being cosmically tied to a bunch of lowly ghouls.

So, it was decided that Copia would be patient about things, opting to hide his soul marks under his uniform till the day came where they lit up into color on their own. He didn’t care how long it took; just knowing there were two special people out there cosmically meant for him gave him more private joy than he’d ever had before.

It was another year before anything new happened, and when it did Copia was so busy that he didn’t even notice until someone pointed out a weird shape poking over his clavicle.

It was an awkward affair, angling himself just right in front of the mirror as to get a view of the full mark, but sure enough, a new pattern wound it’s way up his right shoulder, across his upper back and collarbone, and down the left. This time, the mark took the form of angular tree branches decorated with leaves and flowers.

This tattoo, unlike the others, did not remain a mystery for long, as Copia was very enthusiastically introduced just a day later to Primo’s new assistant: the single tallest earth ghoul he’s ever seen, with muddy brown hair, a sharp but sturdy build, and antlers that branched in a way not unlike the wood etched in his skin.

It may not have been love at first sight, but something deep inside Copia told him that this was the one, that this ghoul was one of the ones he would share his heart with. He wanted to start off strong, say something smooth and flirty that might entice the ghoul in front of him to seek him out in the future.

Instead, of course, Copia stared and stutterd like a broken steam engine. He left the encounter thoroughly embarrassed and Mountain left thoroughly confused as to what about him had this higher clergy member so frazzled.

It wasn’t the greatest of introductions. But it would get better, right? They were soulmates, it would HAVE to get better eventually.

Still, it left Copia even more reluctant to take any action. After all, his track record with social interactions was almost famously lackluster, and with that introduction being as bad as it was, it didn’t exactly give him much confidence.

And so the months started to slip by. Weeks of work and bureaucracy flew past as he and his brothers grew older, as Secondo was forced to abdicate the position of Papa, as Terzo rose to take his place, as Copia’s career stagnated with no clear aim forward. Weeks on top of months stacked into two whole years of watching the world turn, sneaking the occasional wistful glance at that tall, proud figure toiling in the garden and the green house.

There was a minor shift in the monotony after the incident with Alpha and the remaining band ghouls of the previous era. With most banished back to the Pit and the lucky few remaining forced into retirement, the Ghost project was in need of new faces if it wanted to survive. For the first time since Ghost’s revival in the mid 2000’s, auditions were open to all branches across the globe, with specific summonings reserved in the case that no satisfactory replacement could be found. Copia, though not related to the project personally and already burdened with a SUPREMELY busy schedule, offered his ear and opinion to Terzo throughout the process.

It was through this that he first came to know the ghouls named Aether and Dewdrop: not in person, no, but in the form of headshot photos and audition recordings.

Later, once both were hired onto the team formally and moved to the Italian branch, Copia got to meet the two in person, however the interaction was brief. Taking up a position as head of the Treasury in a desperate attempt to shake the monotony of a dead-end job left him with little time to spend around the Ministry’s crowning achievement. The most he could hope for was that he didn't embarrass himself too badly in front of these new ghouls, although why he cared so badly about the opinions of two strangers, he couldn't tell.

And so, another year passed. Copia found enough time to peek in on one or two of the band’s practices, but never long enough to speak after, never mind get any of the band ghoul’s names.

And then, very suddenly, Copia was forced to give the Ghost Project his undivided attention.

The days after his brothers deaths were a complete blur of anxiety, grief, shock, and the overwhelming need to keep going before anything else could go wrong. When it was time to summon replacements for the ghouls lost in the aftermath, he was barely able to pull himself together enough to perform the rituals correctly, and even then it wasn’t perfect.

One five-way hybrid ghoul, two ghoulettes, and a water ghoul later, Copia was drained mentally and physically. 3 summonings in rapid succession would take the wind out of anyone, but such unorthodox summonings to boot had him light-headed. Honestly, he was just thankful the last one was normal. If there would be a spectacle every time he summoned, he might actually vomit.

He barely even remembered taking off his uniform when he went to sleep that night.

The next day, Copia very blearily woke up and found he forgot to remove his glove from his left hand. He goes to take it off. And then is startled into jarring clarity when he finds his whole left arm looks like it was dipped in pitch black ink up to his elbow.

A mirror reveals the full damage: the complete black blurs and smears into a gradient of grey, going from dark to light the further up the arm it gets, interspersed with rays of light through water. Turning around reveals his back to be a collage of clouds, going from wispy and light trails at the top to large, fluffy ones hanging near the bottom.

Copia stared at the images on his skin for a long while, moving them this way and that. Then, with very shaky hands, he picked up his phone and made a call to Imperator, letting her know he'd come down with something and needed a sick day. He’s still recovering from such a stressful summoning, you understand. He'd be right as rain tomorrow. He just needed a day to process everything going on.

—————————————���——————

Meanwhile, with the band ghouls:

Swiss: Hey so like this new flesh suit came with a free rat skull tattoo? It's got some shit written around it about never walking alone too? Any idea what to do with that?

Cumulus: Yeah, me and Cirrus have one of those too! Except the words are different for both of ours. Hers is all about bewitching. Mine's... something, something, sun, moon, stars in the sky? Is that normal?

Aether, Dew, and Mountain, all making eye contact with each other knowing damn well what those "tattoos" are and that they all have similar marks too but not wanting to freak out these Fresh Out The Pit new ghouls: Yeah haha that's totally normal, don't worry about it too much :)

[cyber1987]

I had an idea :3

Theater au for ghost!

Basically the ministry is a theater and it's run by the clergy, instead of rituals/concerts they do plays of their songs and albums. The ghouls have different acting roles and so do the siblings, the theater is big big, imagine it having living areas alongside the main theater area/backstage, maybe it's a different building connected to the theater 🤔. Anygays i wanna explore this idea more so asks are encouraged! :3

[xticklemeemox]

In my au, Dewdrop gifts Phantom a pair of grey bat pj pants and Phantom loves them so much he immediately switches into them whenever he gets back to the den. They're way too long, and too big around the waist because Dew overestimated Phantom's size cause the ghoul never let them close before that point. Phantom doesn't care about any of that, they were his first gift topside, and since he was very young. Dew suggested they take them back to get a better fitting size once Phantom and Aurora were allowed out around non-clergy humans and the quintessance ghoul growled at him and didnt let Dewdrop touch the pajamas for weeks in fear he'd take them back. They get shredded around the pant leg hem from continued use and Phantom cried for hours when he first noticed.

Masterlist

[ghoulangerlee]

Mushy May 11 - Papa Time / First Kiss

this is for day 11 for mushy may, i've combied Papa Time w/ First Kiss and thus we get Dew and Copia's first kiss vaguely based in my You Share Not universe (though a technical AU since this has yet to happen).

Mountain is also mentioned but not present, heavily implied Moutain/Copia, Mountain/Dew and Rain/Dew and Mountain/Dew/Copia :)

you don't have to have read you share not to know anything other than it's a slowish burn au of Copia taking over the mantle as the leader of the ghost project and the ghouls eventually fall in love with him.

-

Copia's nervous energy manifests itself into a sour sort of scent, cloying Dewdrop's senses as he watches the man pace along the aisle of the tour bus.

They're due soon, at their first stop of the tour and for the most part, Copia had seemed excited to leave the heavy and imposing walls of the church, ignoring the way one of the Clergy suits had tittered at them before they'd boarded, wishing Copia a good tour.

We'll be watching, of course. Do us proud.

There was a thinly veiled threat there that made Dew's hair stand on end, the urge to slink up to Copia's back and intimidate the man had been there for a moment, before Dew had bitten it back, knowing it was no use to pull the ire of the Clergy with so little time left.

"Hey, why don't you come sit down or something," Dew says, right as Copia's about to turn sharply and make another circuit around the small aisle, he pats the couch beside him and relaxes his stance when Copia stops pacing and looks up at him.

Copia glances at Dew and then at the space beside him on the couch; it is, for the most part, a comfortable couch.

He sighs, spins on his heel and drops onto the couch beside Dew; leaning his head back against it. "First time jitters," he says, half a joke but mostly serious, turning his head to look over at Dew. "You'll forgive me if I'm not an old hat like you."

Dew snorts softly, nudges his shoulder against Copia's, "It'll be fine. First few shows are always nerve wracking but once we've gotten a few under our belts, things will fall into place."

"So you say," Copia says with a healthy amount of trepidation, "I feel like one wrong move from me and they'll somehow orchestrate pulling me off stage." He presses his lips together, dark circles more prominent under his eyes now that he's not wearing his paint.

He looks less of the proud Cardinal and more along the lines of a weary man with too much responsibility; things that Dew had seen in small bits and pieces during their time at the church, in preparation, keeping a strong facade up.

"Over our dead bodies," Dew says, he's mostly joking, but there's a fire in his heart as he says it, beating loud in his ears, zinging through their bond, "No one's going to pull you off stage for messing up some lyrics."

He tries to play it off as a joke, to quell the strong emotions he's feeling, but Copia smiles a small sort of thing, his eyes crinkling fondly as he does.

He looks younger, happier, with a smile on his face, less like the world has settled on his shoulders.

It's a good look on him.

"I won't mess the lyrics up," he says, though there is some doubt in his voice. "It's not my fault that some of the older songs are written the way they are."

Dew hums and knocks his shoulder against Copia's again, "Do you want to talk about it though? Your fears and stuff? The thing that's got you all," he waves a hand im Copia'd face, "stressed."

Copia reaches out and grabs Dew's hand, pulling it further into his space, "Not really," he says, pausing for a moment, "I think, the stress is coming from the expectations, the careful way we've planned these shows. I'm worried something will go off kilter and it will throw everything off. They want bigger and better and well. I want to give everyone that, but there's a voice in the back of my mind that's saying what if this isn't big enough, even though the Clergy have signed off on it."

He pauses, squeezes his fingers around Dew's; his own skin is slightly cool to the touch, a stark contrast to Dew's warmer skin; the difference calms him a bit, "Apparently I do want to talk about it." he says with a little laugh. "But, I'm done, I'm done." He squeezes Dew's fingers again and Dew shifts closer, pressing their thighs together.

"I'm just glad to be away for a bit."

Dew finally tips his head to the side and rests it against Copia's, "Yeah, me too," he says quietly, basking in their closeness. "Gonna be in close quarters with a bunch of hellbeasts for the next however many days, though. Might start missing the silence of your own room."

"When do I get silence in my own room?" Copia asks, amused, "There's this pack of ghouls who keep welcoming themselves into my room most nights." He says, incredibly fond.

"All you've gotta do is shoo us away," Dew says, the words catching a bit, wondering for a moment if they're all coming on too strong--

Copia hums softly, brings Dew's hand up to his mouth and brushes a kiss to his knuckles, "I didn't say it was a bad thing." he murmurs, lips still pressed against bare skin.

Dew can feel the roughness of Copia's lower lip against his skin and his mind short circuits for a moment, his words catching in his throat, and then Copia's pulling away, letting his hand fall back to his lap and turning a bit so he can look at Dew.

He's so close now.

"Dewdrop?" he says, there's a warble in his voice, hesitance and Dew shakes his head before turning just enough to press his mouth against Copia's.

It's chaste, the angle is a bit off and Copia's hand squeezes at his while his other hand sort of uselessly hovers by his hip, but when Dew pulls away, there's a bit of a flush on Copia's cheeks, a soft look on his face.

"Mountain did say you'd get there eventually," Copia says after several long moments, breaking the silence. "But, I'm always happy to wait."

That pulls a scoff from Dew and he butts his forehead against Copia's, "Mountain needs to mind his business," he grumbles, remembering the night they'd spent together, and how Mountain had whispered things in his ear about Copia, riling him up. "He was getting a little too comfortable, being the only one that gets to kiss you."

He sounds petulant, something about the amused look on Copia's face making him want to hide his face from the other man, "There's plenty of me to go around," he says with a little laugh.

Dew goes quiet then, hides his face against Copia's shoulder, basking in his scent, mellow and happy now, instead of acidic and thick, "I do understand your hesitance though," Copia murmurs after a long moment, "If I had gone through even an ounce of what you'd gone through after Terzo's death, I would have kept my heart guarded as close as I could too."

Copia presses a kiss to the side of Dew's head; he'd sort of shaved the hair there, given himself an undercut to keep cool under the helmet during shows, so he's able to feel the warmth of Copia's lips against almost bare skin.

"Thank you for opening yourself up to me," he continues, sliding his free arm around Dew's shoulders, keeping him close. "I won't take advantage of that."

Dew wants to snort, to make a joke and cut the tension that had built up, but he doesn't, he just buries closer to Copia, allows himself to relax.

"Mountain's going to be so annoying about this," Dew says with a sigh a bit later, pulling back so he can look Copia in the eye, "He's so annoying about things like this. He was the same way when me and Rain got together."

Copia grins, a teasing sort of thing, leans in close to Dew, "Don't worry, I know the best way to shut him up. Something you can help me with now that we've figured ourselves out."

The grin works its way onto Dew's face after a moment, his eyes flashing, "He'll never know what hit him."

[profanepurity]

Praeteritum AU!!!! Long Post!

I’ll post design sheets for everyone along with mini comics, but here’s the solid designs (for now) for Papa I and Prime Mover Elizabeth!

At this point in time, Elizabeth is the only Prime Mover in the clergy, which is a very coveted position, placing her just under Sister Imperator. While she does not have any children with Primo (yet), she is very much involved in rituals, sacrament, holding her own following to Lilith specifically within the church, and caring for the ghouls that “spawn” in Primo’s garden.

Side note: I’ll elaborate on this more later, but I like to think of Primo’s garden as a very unholy place. Many rituals and sacrifices are offered in dedicated areas that act as altars. While Primo has recently given the title of “Papa” to Secondo, the current Papa at this point, there are still a number of siblings that also attend mass led by Primo and Eliza in their gardens. Because of all that dark energy, Lucifer has “unblessed” it as basically a demon hot spot. Some spawn as ghoulings, others as fully grown hellish creatures.

In fact, standing behind Primo in the mini comic is Mountain! He serves as “Earth” (in this AU) under Primo; deciding to stick with him even after he steps down as Papa, at least for now.

Sister Elizabeth (Primo absolutely dedicated that song to her), is looked up to by many of the siblings and ghouls as both an authority and maternal figure. While she may be outwardly intimidating, she is an incredibly warm, patient, and protective woman. She is always backing Primo’s guidance of the siblings with a nurturing hand. And while she doesn’t need it, Primo will always defend and support his wife when necessary. They’re your loving Satanic grandparents.

Because they don’t have any children yet, this is a big source of discourse between them, Nihil, and occasionally Imperator. You’ll notice a bit of bitterness in Primo’s words- he’s projecting a bit towards Nihil. Eliza and him as still very active and involved in the church, and want to make sure they can balance their duties to the Olde One and raise a child properly, especially if that child could potentially be the antichrist…. Or is the antichrist already among them? 👀

[mintea-in-space]

Meeting the Cardinal

Ghoul Clergy Au (Species Swap)

Pairings: Established Dewther(briefly mentioned)

The ghoulish Cardinal Copia meets his new band of humans, hired to help him spread his message through music.

Words: 1,345

Read on Ao3 Here

Copia shakes as he stands in Sister Imperator’s office. His tail hasn’t stopped flicking nervously, throwing off little sparks that disappear as quickly as they appear. The creak of his gloves as he wrings his hands sounds loud to his own ears. Sister herself stands at his side, hands folded neatly in front of her as her tail moves in a relaxed sway. “You’re going to be fine.” She sighs. “They’re just humans, you can handle a few humans yes?”

Copia shrugs his shoulders and bites back a whine. “This is different.” He whispers. “I’ll be in charge of them.” It’s a pathetic excuse, he’s a Cardinal for Satan’s sake. Copia has had the title long enough to know how to take charge, to lead. And usually he does just fine, but usually he has Sister at his side.

This time he’ll have to do it on his own. Mostly anyway.

A knock on the door makes him jump, and Copia quickly straightens his spine. Two seconds later a masked face pokes through the door. He recognizes his scent, this was one of Terzo’s old band mates, Aether. He shuffles in, the two others following just behind. And then, after Mountain, four more humans enter the room. None of them have masks, and they have no uniforms yet. Sister clears her throat.

“Right on time. Aether, Mountain, Dewdrop, I’m sure you’ve met the Cardinal before.” Dewdrop silently nods. “And he has met you as well.” Copia gives them a shaky wave. The four new humans are staring at him strangely. Awe? Fear? Surprise? He isn’t sure yet. “Now then. Let’s get the newbies introduced yes? Cardinal, this is Swiss, Cumulus, Cirrus, and Rain. Backing vocals and guitar, backing vocals and keyboard, backing vocals and keyboard, and bass.” Sister points to each human as she names them and their roles. “And this is your Cardinal Copia. He will be leading the Ghost project, and you will be working under him from here on out.”

Copia finds himself pulled in by Cirrus’ eyes, a stormy grey blue that almost reminds him of an air ghoul. He tears his eyes away to meet Swiss’ and the taller man gives him this roguish smile that makes something in his belly flutter. He forces his mouth to work. “Ah, eh, hello? N-nice to meet you all.” Cirrus seems to be staring at his tail, and Cumulus seems to be staring at his horns. Swiss hasn’t broken eye contact. Rain hasn’t even looked up from the floor, arms crossed protectively over his chest. Copia gulps and then squeaks when Sister puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Why don’t you help the others show them around, hm? I’m sure they’re all dying for a proper tour!” Sister’s eyes flash, the tips of her horns sparking for just a split second. Copia nods. “Good, good, now off you go.” With that she ushers them all out, office door closing behind them with a click. There’s a silence for a moment and Copia can feel how clammy his hands are. Swiss is the first person to break it.

“You know I really thought that online flyer was joking about the whole demon thing. I mean, you could be wearin’ a headband, makeup, but that tail is pretty damn convincing.” Said tail quickly curls around Copia’s leg. Aether huffs out a laugh and pats Swiss on the shoulder.

“I did try warning you. Nothing like seeing it for the first time, but I tried.”

Copia shakes his head, ignoring the heat on his face. “Y-yes, well. It’s all real. I tried telling them the ads would work. Have had more than a few prank calls, but they did work.” Cirrus lets out a huff of a laugh.

“Can’t believe I’m actually going to be playing keys for a demon. They called me crazy back home. Thought this was gonna be like…a theater band.”

“Same.” Cumulus lets out a soft laugh of her own. “Granted I didn’t care as long as I could sing and play.”

“Well…you all were hand picked. Not by me! Eh, but yes! You all showed a lot of promise, so here’s hoping you stick with us!” Copia titters, squeaking nervously as he tugs at his collar. “Anyway! You all want a tour! Yes! I should, uh, show you around, no? We should probably start with the dorms!!” Without looking back, the Cardinal marches off down the hall, leaving the humans to rush to keep up.

Swiss ends up falling into step next to Aether, hazel eyes tracking the way Copia’s tail flicks as he walks. “So, we gonna be getting masks like that, too?”

Aether shrugs. “Masks yes. Like this? Probably not. From what I’m told they change with every front man. Which means you all will have to get fitted.”

“Can you take them off?” Swiss grins now and winks. “Bet you’ve got a handsome mug.” Dewdrop snorts behind him before pinching his hip.

“Don’t flirt with my boyfriend.” He grumbles, pleased when Swiss yipes. “You just fucking met. And no, outside of the dorms you’re not supposed to take them off.”

“Bummer.” Swiss rubs where he was pinched as Aether laughs. “Ah well. Suppose I can suffer through it, if I must.” They fall into an easy conversation, Aether is easy to talk to, and Dewdrop jumps in every once in a while. Behind them Cirrus and Cumulus are getting along just as well, although they got a head start by taking the same bus to the ministry. Rain just follows silently, pleased with the way Mountain doesn’t seem to mind.

Up ahead, Copia does his best to settle his heartbeat. His band seems to be getting along! That’s good! Considering how Terzo’s band fell apart, they need camaraderie moving forward. At long last he spins around with a chirp, hands folding behind his back to hide their fidgeting. “Okie dokie! These are the dorms! You all will be sharing this space, thankfully with no one else!” With flourish, Copia pushes the door open to show them the commons. “You have a full kitchen and dining room, and a full living area! There’s WiFi as well, I believe Aether can give you the password. And down the hall are your rooms! They should already have your names on the doors, and your luggage should still be inside. I will let Aether, Dewdrop, and Mountain be the ones to go into further details about how they do things later, but for now why don’t we explore the grounds, yes?”

And just like that Copia is off again. He chatters the entire time they walk, desperately trying to fill in the gaps. Rain seems to perk up at the sight of the lake, something that makes Copia’s heart warm. A hand on his shoulder makes him jump, twisting to meet Swiss’ gaze. The man asks him something about the gardens, and genuinely seems to listen when Copia does his best to answer it. Before long the two of them walk side by side, Swiss asking question after question and Copia answering. He almost feels disappointed when they all end back at Sister’s office. “Well then. I suppose that’s everything. I’m sure you all want to go get settled in, yes? You all have the rest of today and tomorrow to rest up, and you should be getting an email soon detailing what your schedules will be like.” Copia smiles and claps his hands. “That’s all! Enjoy the rest of your day!”

And then, to everyone’s surprise, Copia bursts into flames before disappearing, Cumulus letting out a shriek. “Oh don’t worry about that.” Dewdrop just waves a hand. “He just does that sometimes. The freak.” Aether whaps the back of Dewdrop’s head.

“Oi! Don’t be rude to the Cardinal! …..you’ve gotta wait a few minutes to make sure he’s actually gone.”

They all pause as the brief scent of smoke dissipates. There’s a silence, and they all turn in surprise when Rain lets out a snort. “This should be interesting…”

[ashthewaterghoul]

Just a non canon imagine, picture this:

IF supposedly the new Papa, Papa V IS supposedly Copia’s twin

Imagine that he is a chill dude who, probably wasn’t aware he had a twin also, and actually means no ill intent

V wouldn’t be the one to put restrictions and zero contact for Copia and the ghoul pack. The clergy still stick their noses in papa and ghoul business and prohibits any Frater interaction for the ghouls. Even V is like “What the fuck? Why the fuck not?”

And they are like, “You’re the new papa now, so it’s your responsibility”

And Papa V is like, “Yeah, but it’s a pretty shitty thing what you’re doing though, they didn’t do anything wrong…”

So imagine V is like, telling Copia that he tried to figure out what’s up the clergy’s ass and tried everything he could too.

V would tell Copia that he’s keeping an eye out for the pack. And that Phantom is being looked after too. That he knows Copia loves them with all his heart and the pack does too.

And he’s sorry he couldn’t do more…

((A little non canon imagine for your Phanter Cuddle Buddies Universe—or alternate universe))

I love how theres AU’s on top of the AU😂🫡🫡

Ughhhh but I do love this though!

I tried not to talk about Papa V too much in the lore ramble bc we don’t know what he’s like. But, I am hoping for a creepy, evil dude with a darker/heavier album👀.

But I do love this. Just brother-to-brother, V promising that Phantom’s okay and he’ll protect them and watch over them🫠🫠🫠🫠

Anon, I love this.

[prittyvenus]

Escape from the Clergy

An AU one shot

Phil was walking down the hallway when he saw a pack of ghouls whispering near Sister Imperator’s office.

“I can’t believe she’s actually doing this.”

“I know, right.”

Phil hides behind a pillar and starts to overhear the conversation.

“I can’t believe she actually convinced Papa Nihil to pull it off.”

The other ghoul shushes. “Dude, not so loud.”

“Yeah, we don’t know who’s nearby.”

A ghoul leaves Sister Imperator’s office and joins the pack.

“Do you have it?”

“Yeah,” The ghoul pulled out a box and shows the contents. “It’s the poison needed for the job.” He said out loud.

The pack pulls the ghoul in and hushes him.

“Dude, really?”

“Not so loud. We don’t know who’s listening.”

The pack looks around and didn’t notice Phil hiding.

“I don’t know why you guys are so worried.” He looks around and sees Sister Imperator leaving her office and locking the door. “There’s nobody here. Besides, They’re just extra mouths to feed.”

“Ma’am!” The pack lined up in a row.

“I have to meet with Papa Nihil. The new lead singer has arrived!” She laughed. “I want you ghouls to be near the targets at all times. Until I give you the signal to strike.”

“Who are the targets?” One of the ghouls asked.

Sister Imperator rolled her eyes. “The three papas.” Phil quietly covers his mouth trying not to make a noise. “Once I leave the room, you ghouls take the syringe and inject the poison into their bodies.” Phil turns into a shadow. “I don’t care how it's done. I want those three dead. Am I clear on this?”

Phil moves quickly to the waiting room where the three former papas are playing. Phil becomes physical and knocks frantically on the door.

“Sí?” A strong voice yelled.

“Secondo! It’s me. Can we talk?”

The sound of a chair scratching the floor then footsteps gets closer to the door.

The door opens showing Terzo without his skull makeup on. “Phil? What is wrong? What is it?”

Phil looks around nervously. “Papa, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.”

Terzo lets Phil into the room. “This better be important.” Secondo scolded.

Terzo closed the door. “It is important.” Phil looks around and can’t sense the Sister’s ghouls. He takes a deep breath. “Sister Imperator has sent assassins to kill the three of you.”

The three men look at each other. “What? are you sure?” Asked Primo.

“I’m not wrong, Papa Primo. You have to believe me when I tell you this.” Phil told him what he overheard from the pack of ghouls and Sister Imperator.

All of them gasped. “You’re joking!” Secondo yelled out.

“I knew it!” Terzo pointed at his brothers. “I told you guys that she’s going to betray us. I told you, but you guys didn’t listen to me!”

“Enough!” Secondo slams the table.

Phil looks at the door. “I think it’s best we take our leave. I sense the other ghouls coming closer.”

“I’m going to pack my things.” Terzo told Phil. “I’ll be waiting at the catacomb entrance.” He leaves through the secret door.

“Secondo?” Phil looks at him.

Secondo rolls his eyes and gives in. “Fine… You better be telling the truth about this.” He leaves Primo alone with Phil.

“Phil, can I ask you something?” Primo looked at Phil.

“There is a place I would like to go to. Would you take us there?” Primo smiles at Phil.

Phil wags his tail. “Of course, Papa Primo. I will take you there.” Phil escorted Primo to the secret door.

As soon the pack of ghouls entered the room, the papas were already gone. The papas packed their bags and headed to the catacombs. As soon as Sister and Nihil arrived the ghouls were waiting in the empty room.

Sister Imperator looks at the ghouls. “Where are they?”

The pack looks at each other and shrugs. “Ma’am.” A shadow ghoul approach Sister Imperator and whispers something in her ear. Her eyes widen. “SPECIAL GHOUL!” Her voice was heard through out the clergy.

Phil stopped dead in his tracks and looks behind him at the catacomb entrance. “What is it, Phil?” Terzo asked.

Phil grabs Terzo’s arm. “We need to run. Now! She knows!”

They start running through the tunnel. They ran past the ghoul dens and saw a group of shadow ghouls. Secondo uses his magic to make the ghouls move out of the way. Primo starts to slow down and stops to catch his breath.

“Papa Primo!” Phil runs up to him. “Come on, this is not the time!” He pulls Primo’s arms over his shoulders and gives him a piggyback ride to his brothers.

When they got to the exit, the pack of ghouls were waiting for them.

“Shit…” Phil groans.

The pack of ghouls took out the syringes. “What do we do now?” Terzo asked Secondo.

Secondo takes off his jacket. “We fight back.” He throws it behind him.

Dewdrop and Omega walk together towards the dens. They hear the sound of fighting from a distance.

“What’s that?” Dewdrop asked.

They hear a familiar voice ringing out. “That’s Papa Secondo!” Omega yelled. They both ran to the sound and see the ghouls holding down the three Papas.

As the ghouls was about to stab the syringe into Secondo and Terzo, Omega and Dewdrop attacked the ghouls.

Dewdrop yelled out. “Aether, Ifrit! The papas are in danger! come help us!”

They fought the Sister’s ghouls until Aether, Mist, Pebble, and Ifrit arrive.

The ghouls rolled over the floor in pain. Omega picked one of them up by the throat. “Don’t ever come near my masters ever again!” The ghoul became frightened. “Am I clear?” Yelled out Omega. The ghoul nods his head quickly. Omega tosses the ghoul to the wall. All of the ghouls ran away.

Aether looks at Omega. “What happened big guy?”

Dewdrop and Phil got up and helps the three Papas. “Sister Imperator sent ghouls to kill The three papas.”

“What? no way!” Yelled Pebble.

“Yes, way.” Dewdrop picks up the broken syringe and shows it off.

Aether takes it and sniffs it. The bad odor made him back off.

Ifrit asked Dewdrop. “What is that stuff?”

“It’s poison.” Phil explains. “Sister gave it to the ghouls to kill our papa.”

Terzo dusted himself off. “Phil is not lying. She really wants us dead.”

“So, you guys are trying to escape.” Aether said.

“Sister has gone too far this time.” Secondo puts on his jacket.

Pebble, Mist, and Ifrit look at each other and nod. “We will help you guys out.”

Terzo smiles at his ghouls. “Grazie, My precious ghouls!” He hugs all three of them.

“Come on. I know a short cut to the garage.” Omega told the group.

They all left to the underground garage. As they were picking out a car. Pebble and Mist heard footsteps running towards them.

“Guys, we got company!” Mist yelled out.

“Let’s hold them off!” Dewdrop told Mist. Mist and Dewdrop combined their powers and made and ice wall.

“Looks like it’s up to us, Ifrit.” Pebble said to Ifrit.

Ifrit nods in agreement. “Just like old times.” Ifrit goes to Dewdrop. He lowers Dewdrop and kisses him. “This might be the last time I will ever be with you.” He caressed Dewdrop and pulled him up. “If I ever survive this, You and I will have that trip to Paris.”

“Just the two of us?” Dewdrop asked.

“Just the two of us.” Ifrit kissed Dewdrop’s forehead.

Pebble gets ready at the wall. “Come on, Ifrit. Let’s get this party started.”

“Right!” Ifrit activates his powers and teleports to the other side of the ice wall. “Viva la France!”

Pebble followed Ifrit. “Pour la révolution!”

Mist and Dewdrop hear the ghouls battling behind the ice wall.

Aether goes to Dewdrop and Mist. “Come on you two. We have to help the papas in the front.” Dewdrop looks at the wall. “Don’t worry about Ifrit. He can take care of himself. We have a job to do.”

Dewdrop closed his eyes and clutched his chest. He runs away from the ice wall. He runs up the ramp with Aether and Mist. Phil starts the car and slowly drive behind them. They made it through to the main entrance of the garage. Dewdrop goes to the side door and peaks out the door window.

“See anything?” Mist whispered.

Dewdrop snares as he sees the guards looking around. He clicks his tongue. He goes to Aether and Mist.

“The whole place is surrounded.” He told them. “Both ghouls and humans are looking for them.”

“Any sign of Sister?” Terzo asked. Dewdrop goes back to the window. He takes a peek. He looks back and shakes his head.

Aether goes over to the door and takes a look outside. He starts counting the guards. “One, two, three…” He notices a man walking around in a black cassock. “A new guy, four, five…” he sees the man bowing and Papa Nihil shows up. “Six, Shit…” Aether looks at Dewdrop. “Papa Nihil is outside.”

Dewdrop goes to the car. “Papa Nihil has been spotted outside.”

“If he’s out there that means Sister might be close by.” Terzo spoke.

“What should we do? How are we going to distract them?” Aether notices the guards looking at him. “Shit!” The guards start running to the garage. “We have been spotted!”

“Get down. We got this.” Mist told the papas.

The guards enters the Garage and spots Dewdrop and Mist looking into the different cars.

“Not here!” Dewdrop yelled.

“Not in this one!” Mist yelled out.

The guards looks at Aether. “I’m just keeping an I out for the papas.” He lyes to the guards. “So far, we haven’t found them, yet.”

Sister’s voice called out to the guards and they head back outside. Mist and Dewdrop were still looking into the cars until they left. Then Aether heard Sister calling out to the ghouls. He sees Sister staring him down making him gulp in cold sweat. “Dewdrop, Mist! Sister wants to see us.”

“Mist, now is the perfect time to distract her.” Dewdrop told her.

Mist nods and heads out the door. Dewdrop looks around and opens the garage gates. “They’re not here!” Aether starts signing to Omega to get the car ready.

Aether and Dewdrop lift up their arms as they walk through the gates. “Ifrit! Pebble!” Dewdrop yelled as he sees the two badly wounded.

“Where are they?” The guards forced Dewdrop, Aether and Mist to their knees. Sister walks over to Ifrit. “You know, I don’t like to be kept waiting.” She yanks Ifrit’s curly hair. “Where are they? Tell me, now!”

Dewdrop gasps at Ifrit’s pain. “Stop it, Sister Imperator! He got nothing to do with them!” He looks at Mist.

“Th-that’s right! We have been looking for them too!”

Sister Imperator let’s go of Ifrit and goes over to Mist to hit her hard. Mist yelps as she falls to the ground.

“What the hell, bitch!” Dewdrop yelled.

Sister interrupted. “Quiet! You…”

The sound of a car engine got Sister Imperator’s attention. As she goes to the front garage, bright high beam lights blinded her. The car drove fast and hits Sister Imperator. Papa Nihil and a cardinal rushed over to Sister and the car was long gone.

“Unholy Mother, I can’t believe we did that!” Yelled Primo

“I will not lie. I never liked her.” Secondo spoke. Terzo looks at him. “She never liked me from the beginning. She always tells me that I’m too much like father.” He leans back. “I never understood why. Now I know.”

“Let’s not worry about the past.” Primo said to his brothers. “Our roles as Papa are long over. We have a future to think about.”

The two younger brothers looked at each other. “What do you have in mind, big brother?” Terzo asked Primo.

Primo turned on the car light and takes out an envelope. “Omega.”

Omega pulls over and takes a look at the envelope. “Is that Prime Mover Elizabeth’s home address?” Omega asks.

Primo nods. “Yes, it is.”

Omega looks dead at his face. “That’s a five hour drive!”

“What choice do we have?” Primo complained.

Phil looks at Omega. “Let’s take it. We’re better off with Mama Elizabeth than with Sister and Nihil. Not to mention that we ran that bitch over with the car!”

Omega looks dead at Phil. “Point taken.” He starts the car. “When we hit the first rest stop. We have to switch places.”

Phil takes off his mask and tosses it out the window. “Omega, you know we’re not bound to her.”

Omega takes his mask off and he tosses it out the window. Omega takes a big breath in. “So, road trip it is.” He turns on the radio to a heavy metal station and drove away.

6 hours later and they managed to find the house. Omega sees a cop car in the driveway of the house. He sees a female officer getting out of the house.

“I’m heading out, grandma!”

An old lady gets out of the house. “Be careful, dear.”

The woman was about to head to the vehicle when she sees the car. “Grandma?”

“I see it, dear.”

She takes out her ticket pad and goes over to the car. When she knocks on the window Phil pulls his head out of the car. “Boo.” He said to her.

The officer was not amused. “Nice try. License and registration, please.”

“Guys, now what?” He said.

All the doors open and they all got out. They all started stretching.

Primo goes up to the officer. “Mi scusi, signora. I’m looking for my wife, Elizabeth Emeritus.” He hands her the envelope.

She looks at the name and address. “Sir.” She shows her badge to Primo.

Primo sighed with relief. “Brothers, she’s an Emeritus.” All the boys went over to see the badge. “And Elizabeth is she…” The officer points to the police car and he sees a crying old woman standing.

“Il mio amato!” He runs into the street.

“Amore mio!” She runs to Primo. They both embraced each other and kissed in the middle of the street.

They awed at them. The officer walks over to them and pulls her hand out, Primo and Elizabeth notice a car heading their way. They start walking to the house. The car slows down to a stop. The officer moved and the driver pulled down the window.

“Morning Sara! What was that about?” Sara looks at the driver.

“My grandfather and uncles came from Italy to visit my grandmother.”

“I see…” He looks at the damaged car.

She looks behind her. “Yeah, I’m also writing them a ticket for driving a damaged vehicle without a registration or insurance.”

“Shit… I’ll let the boss know you’re going to be late.” The car window goes up and slowly drives off.

Terzo goes up to her. “Who was that?” He teased.

Sara smiles. “My coworker.” She faces Terzo. “But he’s married.” He grins. “I’m still writing you the ticket.” He frowns and takes out his wallet.

Omega goes to Terzo. “Let me handle it. You go inside.” Terzo put his wallet away and heads toward the house with Secondo.

“License and registration.” He takes out his wallet and pulls out his passport. She opens the passport. “This is a human photo.”

“Oh, sorry.” He takes out a flask and drinks from it. Sara sees Omega become human.

Sara looks at the photo. “Okay, now the registration of the vehicle.” She follows him to the car and he takes out a small folder from the car. She checks the registration. “The registration has expired a year ago and there is no insurance for the car.” She starts writing in the ticket pad. “Let’s see here. Driving an unsafe car. Operating a vehicle with an expired registration. No valid insurance. Is there any thing else?”

Omega stood silent. “Well, He hit an old lady.” Phil told Sara. She looks at Phil. “It was self defense. We had no other choice.”

“This needs to be explained at the station.” She sighed. She gives the ticket to Omega. “You’re lucky. I’m just doing you guys a favor.”

“Like giving me a ticket is doing me the favor.” Omega said sternly.

“When I pull my car out. Put your car in the garage. The automatic door doesn’t work. So you have to manually open and close it.”

“Is this the favor you were talking about?” Omega asked. Sara takes out her phone and plays the news footage about Sister Imperator being the victim of a hit-and-run. “That bitch!”

“Like I said I’m doing you guys a favor.”

Omega takes a look around. “Fine… I’ll except the ticket.”

“Just lay low and don’t let anyone see you.” Sara closed her eyes then opens them up to reveal her white left eye. “Grandma told me to always keep our powers in check and to take good care of our demons.” She blinks and her white eye turns to normal. “Get ready.” Sara told Omega.

Sara goes to the police car and heads off to work. Omega goes to the garage and lifts the door. He signals Phil and he starts to car and drives it into the garage. Omega looks around and slams the garage door shut.

After years of being in the clergy the papas were finally free from Sister’s wrath. They spend time with Elizabeth even celebrated holidays with each other.

Sara resigned from the police department and became Secondo’s apprentice. They eventually opened a private investigation firm. They are now investigating cold cases with a new member of their team, William.

Terzo and Omega both got married and opened their own satanic church in the town. Terzo’s mother and daughter moved in with them. They even helped Terzo out with the church events. Phil became the Usher and manager of the church.

Primo enjoys his retirement with Elizabeth. He finally got time to do gardening in the backyard. But he loves spending time with his grandchildren and great grandchildren. Spoiling them with his love.

Sister Imperator survived the hit and run. But her reputation was damaged. When the main clergy heard about what happened. They take a look into the case. She was investigated and the assassination was brought to light. The decision was made to remove her from power and give her a dead end position in the clergy. She died without seeing her little Cardinal, Copia.

The Cardinal, Copia has became the new lead singer under the watchful eyes of the main clergy. He did become Papa Emeritus IV under the exception he stays away from Sister Imperator. He takes her death hard but he didn’t get to be the new head of the clergy.

Nihil didn’t return to the stage even after his death. Everyone attended the funeral except for the three papas. His spirit now roams the clergy wondering if he was able to get another chance.

Aether stays with the band for a while, then joins another band in a different branch. Mist is living her days as a den mother in the clergy school for kits. Ifrit became a teacher in the school. Pebble works with the main clergy as a caseworker. Dewdrop became a fire ghoul and leading guitarist in the band. He became sick with Elemental Displacement Syndrome but managed to overcome it. He stood by Copia even becoming his pain in the ass. He settled down with Ifrit in his downtime. Now he's expecting their first litter of kits.

[can-of-pringles]

My character names and short bios for my Ghost AU lore

(warnings for RHRN spoilers, though I'll probably be updating it when we get more info) (I'm including picrews of some of the OCs, though not the ones already established since it's very easy to find pictures of them elsewhere)

Neil Teodoro Emeritus/Nihil Emeritus/Papa Nihil March 19, 1941-March 3, 2020 Born in Italy, moved to the US with his mother when he was too young to remember. Estranged from his father who was a previous Papa. Brought back to the Ministry when he was an adult by Sister Imperator. Leader of Ghost from mid-1960s to late 1970s. Has four kids (possibly five if we're including RHRN spoilers)

Elizabeth "Betty" Liliana Emeritus/Sister Elizabeth January 5, 1921-TBA Born in Italy, had a relationship with a Papa during the time. Ended up having a son with him. She and her son Neil ended up moving to the US when her ex didn't want to be in their lives anymore. Picrew:

Lucas Theodore Clarkson/Primo Emeritus/Papa Primo October 8, 1957-March 2018 Born in the US, co-parented by Nihil and Lucy Clarkson for a while until he was brought to the Ministry by his father. Nihil changed his name to Primo Emeritus. Leader of Ghost from 2008-2012.

Lucille "Lucy" Clarkson June 12, 1941-TBA Born in the US, dated Neil in high school. Had Lucas when she and Neil were sixteen. Mostly raised him on her own with help from her family, Neil, and his mother. Originally planned on marrying Neil once she finished college but it didn't work out. Allowed Nihil to bring Lucas to the Ministry when he was a bit older. Wasn't involved with the Ministry. Received updates on Primo and saw him occasionally. Picrew (pictured around highschool ish here):

Lauro (LOW-ro) 'Secondo' Emeritus/Papa Secondo October 24, 1970-March 2018 Born in LA to Papa Nihil and a Sister of Sin named Dafne. Grew up in the Italy Ministry. Leader of Ghost from 2012-2015.

Dafne (Italian spelling of Daphne) Santoro/Sister Dafne August 23, 1943-TBA Born in Italy, grew up in the Ministry. Used to be in a long-term relationship with Papa Nihil but broke it off when he cheated. Mother to Secondo. Picrew:

Lorenzo 'Terzo' Emeritus/Papa Terzo January 28, 1971-March 2018 Born in LA to Rosalie Arnaud (she gave him up to the Ministry). Grew up in the Ministry. Was in a serious relationship with Omega Ghoul from 1997 all the way until Terzo's death. Leader of Ghost from 2015-2017.

Rosalie Arnaud May 11, 1948-??? Born in France. Traveled to LA. Met and had a fling with Papa Nihil which resulted in Terzo. Was not in Terzo's life. Picrew:

Irene Acerbi/Sister Irene/Sister Imperator April 3, 1944-September 12, 2023 Born in Italy, past mostly unknown. Brought Papa Nihil back to the Ministry. Has had an on-and-off relationship with Papa Nihil throughout the years. Secret mother to Copia. Involved with Ghost for years. Had Primo, Secondo, and Terzo killed.

Copia Abate/Cardinal Copia/Papa Copia/Frater Imperator July 7, 1979- Grew up in Italy at the Ministry as a supposed orphan. Saw Primo, Secondo, and Terzo as his brother figures. Saw Sister Imperator as a mother figure. Didn't know Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil were his parents until semi-recently. In a relationship (eventually) with Silas Petersson. Leader of Ghost from March 2018-2023. Promoted to Sister's position once she passed, under the title of Frater Imperator. Only has a last name for legal reasons given to him by the Clergy and it's just Abate (From Italian abate meaning "abbot, priest")

Silas Adrian Petersson May 14, 1986- Born in Austin, Texas. Spent his childhood between Texas and Sweden with his mother in Texas and his father in Sweden. Moved to Linköping, Sweden some time in his late teens. In a relationship (eventually) with Copia. Works as a janitor at the Ministry. Started working there in 2013.

Caroline "Carol" Andrews & Nicholas Petersson Carol: 1962- Nicholas: 1961- Carol: Born outside Dallas, Texas. Nicholas: Born in Sweden, near Linköping. They met when Nicholas participated in the foreign exchange student program at Carol's high school. Dated and eventually married. Had Silas. Eventually divorced on good terms (they weren't compatible and are just best friends now) when he was a kid. Co-parented Silas very well post-divorce. Stay very involved with each other's lives. Picrews:

Hanna Liv (LEEV) Ekström (EHK-struum) December 4, 1987- Born in Sweden. Childhood best friends with Silas. In a relationship (eventually) with Kersti. Works as a dog groomer.

Kersti (SHEHSH-tee) Beck/Sister Kersti March 11, 1986- Born in Sápmi to her parents, her father is Sámi, and her mother is Swedish. Her parents decided to move closer to her mother's Swedish family and assimilate more due to pressures. In a relationship (eventually) with Hanna. Became a Sister of Sin at the Ministry. Her stay there was always going to be temporary until she moved back to her childhood home in Sápmi.

Pigeon Ghoul ??? Summoned as a "spare ghoul" during Cardinal Copia's era. Air and Multi Ghoul lineage. Wears an old mask and uniform.

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

Ghoulette Appreciation Week 6

Week 6: Murder Ghoulettes and self-care

Aurora wakes up thirsty. Cumulus taking Aurora out on her first hunt, followed by a tiny bit of self-care with Cirrus afterwards.

Rating: M Content: murder ghoulettes, kinda vampire au, blood/violence/murder Words: 1270

In my mind Aurora is a huge Twilight-girlie, so you can't tell me she doesn't try and recreate Bella's first hunt to cope with learning what her topside diet includes...

Read below or on AO3! where this almost got named "good soup"

Aurora wakes up thirsty. She’s been topside for a few months by now, and while she’s mostly on top of this strangely fragile Vessel’s needs, she’s never felt a thirst quite like this. Her mouth feels drier than it does after a band rehearsal without water, like her throat is burning.

She delicately untangles herself from the arms of the ghoulettes around her and makes her way to the kitchen to get a drink. Grabbing the largest glass she can find, she fills it and gulps it down, immediately refilling it. Nothing. In fact her thirst seems to be worse than ever. Too cold some instinct screams at her. She puts the glass in the microwave, and takes another sip of the gently steaming liquid. Wrong. Aurora lets out a small growl which reverberates around the darkened kitchen, mocking her in her frustration. The lights flicker to life as Cirrus joins her in the kitchen, yawning widely.

“What’cha doing, Rory? ‘S too early to be up yet.”

Aurora turns to her with frantic eyes, gesturing to the half full glass of warm water, “I’m so thirsty Cir, but water just makes it worse!”

Cirrus seemed to wake up fully at that, blinking sleep from her quickly darkening eyes. “Ah. I thought you were overdue a feed. Lus is going on a trip soon, she’ll take you later.”

A feed? What sort of trip? Aurora rakes her fingers through her hair in frustration at Cirrus’s cryptic behaviour. With a tilt of her head at Aurora's confusion, Cirrus turns abruptly to head back to the dorms.

“Come on, you'll want to be sitting down for this.”

Aurora took the news well. Almost too well. Instead of the abject horror most ghouls displayed at having to hunt in their weak humanoid forms to survive topside, she seemed almost excited at the prospect.

"So we're like vampires up here?” There was a disconcerting gleam to her eyes. "That's so cool!”

Cirrus and Cumulus shared a glance. Oh dear. They recalled Aurora's current obsession with 2000s chick-flicks. She watched Twilight last week. Cumulus nodded sheepishly; at least this reaction was better than the hysterics from Sunny.

“Sure thing Starburst, just like Vampires.” Cumulus didn't specify that she meant the non-glittery-variety. “Go get changed, we'll head out this morning before the boys decide to join us. Rain always makes such a mess.”

Aurora practically skipped across the hall to her room.

"Good luck with that.” Cirrus remarked to Cumulus, “I'll have a hot bath ready when you get back.”

“Thanks love.” Cumulus rolled her eyes good-naturedly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I'll bring the little bloodsucker back in once piece.”

“I'm ready!” chirps Aurora from the doorway. She's met with stunned silence for a second.

"Sweetie,” Cirrus starts hesitantly, “What are you wearing?”

A short while later, once Aurora has been convinced that while yes, she definitely can wear that tiny silk dress, she really does have to put proper shoes on, Cumulus leads the way to the edge of the forest surrounding the Abbey. As she does, she makes a mental note of other movies to blacklist.

The pair trek through miles and miles of forest, well beyond the invisible perimeter wards of the Abbey. There is an agreement with the Clergy that although ghouls definitely need to feed, they should do so as far from the Abbey as possible, and not in the same region too often. After her initial excitement, Aurora now feels her mouth getting drier and drier with each step.

After what feels like hours, Cumulus stops, sniffing the air around them and smiling.

“Alright Rory, you're good to go.”

"What do I do?” Aurora asks uncertainly. The air here felt thick, and held the same allure as the waft of Mountain's freshly baked bread did.

“Oh you'll see,” Cumulus smirks, "just follow your nose.”

Aurora took a deep sniff before instinctually dropping into a hunting crouch. The scent was stronger down here, sticking to the leaves underfoot. She slinks through the trees, tracking the captivating smell until the air around them is rich with it. A gust of wind blows it even stronger in their direction, and she takes off running in the direction of the mouthwatering aroma. The branches around her tear at the flimsy satin of her dress and Cumulus has to laugh internally at the destruction: what did she expect?

The deer hunter Aurora has tracked never stood a chance. Before he could even link the sounds of branches snapping with danger, the small ghoulette is on top of him, his gun still raised in the direction of a spooked deer that is now bolting away.

She rips and tears at his flesh with vicious fangs and claws, carving through bone and sinew, and devouring blood, viscera, organs. The rush of warmth on her tongue and the sweet, metallic tang finally satiates her unholy thirst. As Aurora begins to return to herself from the red haze of the hunt, Cumulus looks on proudly, with feral eyes of her own. There is blood smeared around Aurora's mouth, her entirely ridiculous dress is hanging onto her by threads, more rip than fabric, and Cumulus can't help but marvel at her terrifying beauty.

She helps Aurora maneuverer the remains of the hunter's lifeless body deeper into the trees. By the time he is found, likely months later, his ghoulish mutilations will be indistinguishable from those caused by a wild animal. Possibly the ghouls will see talk of a bear attack in the newspapers the Siblings of the Abbey read.

Aurora’s thirst may be satisfied but Cumulus’s is only baited, so the pair move on. It isn’t done to share one’s prey with another ghoul if they are not mated, so Cumulus will find another victim, she always does. Sometimes they even come willingly, hypnotised by her unfathomable beauty in the depths of the unforgiving forest.

Eventually returning to the Abbey, Aurora find that the less feral she feels, the more she realises how deeply uncomfortable she is; cold and sticky, covered in mud, blood, and Satan only knows what else. Cumulus tempts her to keep moving quickly, despite the tiredness that is setting back into her bones, by telling her how Cirrus won't be able to resist her after a hunt. She’ll run them a warm bath, meticulously clean her claws for her, and take care of her in every way she knows. Cumulus tells Aurora how she's in for it now, as she looks every inch the terrifying hellbeast that she is.

They enter the ghoul wing with their hair everywhere, wild nests full of twigs and leaves. They are careful to avoid the common areas of the Abbey looking like this. All the ghouls, no matter how reckless they are when hunting, know better that to give any indication to the Siblings of Sin that this side of them exists.

“How'd the little vampire do?” Cirrus asks Cumulus when they tumble into her room, jumping up to begin picking detritus out of her Mate's hair and usher them both towards the cloud of sweet-smelling steam emanating from the bathroom.

Aurora is doing great: she’s preening just inside the door, feigning nonchalance as she picks blood out from under her claws. The dress maybe didn’t survive as well as she expected, the liquid silk slip hanging off her small frame in tatters. She shoots out a delicate tongue to lap up a spot of blood on her arm, her high-pitched purr reverberating around the room with self-satisfaction.

Cumulus smirks, “Oh, she’s gonna be just fine up here Riri.”