#i need to write more ghoulette things ah!!

[everybodyshusband]

post-show ritual

mushy may ; day three !! (approx. 680 words)

read the rest of my mushy may collection on ao3 :)

Cumulus stretched her arms out to the exhausted ghoulette in front of her, willing Sunshine to fall into her arms. “C’mon, Sunny. C’mere, let me hold you for a bit.”

Sunshine tugged her mask off and tossed it on the dressing room bench before collapsing into the chair in front of her. She reached out her arms towards Cumulus with an exhausted huff. “Hold me, ‘Lus,” she whined. “‘M so tired…”

Cumulus walked over from her side of the mirror and stroked a hand through Sunshine’s hair, purring softly. “I know, my star, I know.” As she always was after a ritual, when Cumulus ran her fingers through it, she was struck by just how knotted Sunshine’s hair had become underneath her stage mask. The sheer amount of knots the youngest ghoulette’s hair managed to hold after a demanding show was truly impressive. “You want me to brush your hair, baby? Get all the sweat and knots out for you?”

Sunshine trilled and nodded, leaning further into Cumulus’ touch. “Would you?”

Cumulus laughed and nuzzled her cheek against Sunny’s hair. “Of course, love. That’s why I offered.”

(It always went like this. Once the night’s ritual concluded—regardless of the city the band were performing in—Sunshine would drag her feet all the way back to the dressing rooms and do her best to convince one of the other ghoulettes to brush her hair for her. And neither Cumulus nor Cirrus could ever even entertain the possibility of denying Sunshine of her request. Sometimes, if Sunshine was lucky, both ghoulettes would aid her in the brushing out of her thick, tangled curls. But tonight, Cirrus had pulled a dead-on-his-feet Aether off to one of the other—notably empty—dressing rooms, and Cumulus had heard her offering up the possibility of allowing him to let go of his responsibilities and float for a while. Presumably, he’s said yes; he’d be a madman to deny any form of affection-slash-domination from Cirrus, in Cumulus’ humble opinion.)

The air ghoulette reached into the stage bag they both share with Cirrus and pulled out one of Sunshine’s favourite brushes; she’s always claimed it feels the nicest against her scalp, especially after a tiring day. Cumulus set it down on the counter in front of them both and began raking her fingers properly through Sunshine’s hair, doing her best to rid it of any smudged face paint and hair products that have weaselled their way into it over the course of that night’s ritual. Once she was sure most of the paint was out, she picked the hairbrush back up and began brushing it through Sunshine’s hair properly, taking her time so as not to hurt her partner.

Sunshine hummed happily and leant further back into Cumulus’ touch, a small smile settling on her lips as her eyes closed of their own accord. She could already feel the tension draining from her muscles, loosening even further with each pass of the brush through her hair.

After a few more minutes of brushing, Cumulus let out a pleased trill. “I think all the knots are out now, Sunny!”

Sunshine turned in her chair and pulled Cumulus’ face down until it was level with her own, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “Thank you, ‘Lus.” She rested her forehead against her partner’s and sighed contentedly, taking in Cumulus’ soft blush at her own undivided attention.

Cumulus wrapped her arms around Sunshine as well as she could manage with the awkward angle they both found themselves in and kissed the top of her head. “D’you want me to brush your curl stuff through as well? I don’t mind doing it.”

Sunshine tilted her head, considering. “Mmm, shower first? Then we can do that back on the bus?”

At the mention of a shower, Cumulus practically melted. She’d been so eager to brush Sunshine’s hair out that she’d forgotten how hot and sweaty she’d become. “A shower sounds perfect, Sunny, Good plan.”

Sunshine stood and took hold of Cumulus’ hand, leading her in the direction of the showers. “C’mon, love. Let me take care of you now.”

[plethora-of-imagines]

Cardinal Copia's Costume Curator

AN: This is in tribute to the wonderful beloved @how-masterful for her birthday! (Who introduced me to the band's lore which made me finally listen to the songs, and well..... I'm now very obsessed)

It's the first thing I have written an a long while... oops! But I got into a very competitive health program so I am very busy actively fighting the gods to survive being back in school.

Which means this is only loosely edited, and probably very out of character but I had fun writing it! (In the dreams of my head where I actually do have time this would have been a slow burn multi chapter, but I've never managed to do one of those soooo oneshot it is)

I hope you had the best of days beloved and enjoy your (our) blorbo story

Word Count: 4402

Ao3 Link: Here

Warning: smut/lemon, nudity, blowjob, semi public sexual contact

Description: A collection of moments between the new costumer for the tour and her Cardinal.

Knocking on the door of the dressing room she spared a quick glance back at the ghoulette who had helped guide her. A cute little thumbs up and a smile of an alarming amount of teeth greeted her. She tried to push past her general anxiousness to recognize it for the reassurance it was.

“Ah, hi, hello,” the uncertain greeting from the Cardinal as he opened the door made her turn back to face him so fast she feared she gave herself whiplash.

“Hello Cardinal,” she began in a hurry, sheepishly introducing herself. “I’m umm- your new costume curator?”

“Oh, yes, yes,” he gestured for her to enter the room. Charmingly grabbing her hand to kiss before awkwardly trying to rub off the black stain his Cardinal paints left on her bare skin. Smudging it just enough to make the single lip stain scarcely recognizable. “Sister told me you were joining our little touring family. But uh she did not say why. So good to know that you will be helping with costumes in some way then.”

“She figured you needed me after the video about the belt got back to her.”

He seemed to deflate into the uncomfortable leather chair that came with this touring spot’s dressing room.

“That uh got back to her and all the siblings then, si?”

“Yes Cardinal.”

“Good, great.”

It certainly did not sound like he found it good at all. The silence made her nervous so she rushed to fill it with an explanation that it seemed Sister Imperator had failed to give him.

“She actually seemed to think you handled Sister Maria’s mistake well? Or at least she was more upset with learning from the Siblings here that Sister Maria was more focused on indulging in sin instead of her job?”

“Sister who?”

“Sister Maria?” Did she remember her predecessor’s name incorrectly? “The previous sibling in charge of your and the ghouls’ costumes?”

Rubbing the back of his head, making a mess of his already ruffled hair he admitted something that would have had Sister Imperator flaying your predecessor alive.

“I ,uh, did not know we had someone in charge of costumes. Me and my ghoulies have been taking care of them ourselves.”

“Yourselves,” she screeched. Rushing to explain herself, “not that they seem to be in poor condition, they looked decently taken care of if not a little disorganized. But uh none of you were taught how to take care of these beyond the basics! Who has been checking for any issues with seams? Or keeping track of the spare costume pieces?”

“Eh heh,” gently scratching at his face as he spoke up. “I did use a bit of the Google when the tour started to figure out how to spot clean them after a little incident with the ghouls.”

It was endearing how proud he was of himself, even she couldn’t bring herself to be upset about the possible damage to the garments. She had already looked them over and on the surface they were fine enough. There was even more work to be done than she feared with her initial evaluation of them.

“But it will be a welcome change to have you taking good care of our uniforms, Sister.” He sheepishly looked into her eyes. “Would it also be possible to have you assist backstage with my quick changes. I’ve always made it but it has been cut rather close before...”

“I almost don’t feel bad for Sister Maria when Sister Imperator gets her hands on her. Almost,” she joked before working to reassure him that she would be dutiful in her job. It was an honor to be allowed to join the tour when not a long term or high level Sibling.  She was eager to prove her worth. “Cardinal, you should have had someone assisting you this whole time, it's part of the job! I know we encourage sin but I think Sister Maria was too indulgent with practicing sloth when it came to her job.”

“Si, if I had known who she was and that she was supposed to be doing all these things I would have had a conversation with her before something made its way back to Sister.”

Clapping, he stood up, lending her a hand to guide her up from her seat.

“Now let me introduce you to the rest of my ghouls. Sister said that you are to join us on our bus so that you can work if needed while we travel, which now I know means if we have any costume malfunctions that need your guiding hands.”

***

Nervously she straightened the hanging costumes again for the millionth time. It was almost time for the first costume change with everything that need to be done to get things in order they hadn’t had a chance to practice how she would help. Changing the Cardinal from his cassock into one of the skin tight suits that he admitted were tricky for him to get on alone with how much they clung to his skin. Eager to be helpful, fearful that she would in truth be a hindrance to him.

“You look as if you have seen a ghost, Sister. And not one of the ones on stage,” the Cardinal teased as he stepped into the makeshift changing room that she had set up with spare curtains.

Lightening her mood by gently plopping his biretta onto her head. 

“This is already much better than when I was doing this alone-”

“Because you can use me as a glorified hat stand,” she teased.

“Ah, I was going to say because I have some privacy and am not just rushing off to a dark corner to undress, but yes that too.”

Growing more comfortable, her hands worked to help free him from his clothes efficiently, undoing the buttons down to his navel so that he would be able to simply step out of the garment. Catching a glance of his bare chest while turning to properly hang up the belt he had handed off to her.

“At least they didn’t decide to mirror the whole thirty three buttons for Jesus’s life thing when they copied the idea. Can you imagine if they had decided to make that thing have six hundred and sixty six buttons? We would never get you out of it!”

“Si, and what a hindrance to the sin of lust that would be. A frustrating new form of chastity belt for the clergy.”

Mentally planning the best way to help, she grabbed the skin tight pants. If they took him the longest to get on, then that is where she should start. He could put on the shirt while she started to pull on the pants. Quickly gathering the length of each pant leg and condensing it so that he could slide into them. Moving to kneel on the floor before him. Looking up to tell him to step into them.

Instead of her eyes meeting his, they met his cock. His completely uncovered cock.

Freezing, eyes locked on the monstrosity of a cock that hung before her. The hair neatly trimmed, balls symmetrical, and cock tip a pretty shade of pink. Oh Satan. She couldn’t help but continue to stare without a thought in her head beyond, “pretty”. It was the most beautiful cock she had seen outside of porn- not that she was terribly well versed, but she had seen a fairshare in her time in the church.

Her burning face felt like it was glowing as she turned back into reality. He had been speaking to her.

“Huh?”

“I’m so sorry Sister. I should have warned you that I cannot wear anything underneath, since the lines show with those pants. You didn’t consent to this.”

Struggling to find the words as her lips stumbled around them, “it’s fine. I don’t mind, just a little surprised. Not that there is anything little about that surprise.”

Could someone come drag her into hell early? Why did her brain decide the proper response in that situation was to actually say that!

“Please step into these pants before I further embarrass myself,” begging as she refused to look at his eyes or his cock anymore.

The two of them worked together to force him into those pants. Even with her distraction at his firm thighs and well defined bulge that she did not need to use imagination to remember what was underneath, they finished well before his que. 

“Thank you Sister,” he blew a kiss her way as he pushed past the curtains again.

Still braindead from lust she waved goodbye to him like a fool. Slamming her head against the wall the moment he was out of sight.

Oh Satan, they had to do that several more times. And the worst part is she wouldn’t get any privacy on the bus later to do anything to mimic what she wanted that cock to do to her.

***

“Mountain! Where are your shoes?”

She timidly approached the tall ghoul. Their height differences further accentuated by her eyes being glued to his sock covered feet. Feet lacking the shoes that should be on them.

“If there is something wrong with them I could try to fix them?”

Glancing up into the blank mask. Nervously shifting while waiting for some sort of response.

“They’re fine,” he answered in a deep rumble of a voice, so quiet it almost couldn't be heard. At her wide eyed questioning look he elaborated, “interfere with feeling the beat.”

Oh, so that’s why he didn’t wear them. She nodded, subconsciously fiddling with her grucifix in an anxious habit she was unaware of but that the ghouls had all picked up on.

“You do wear them outside though... right?” Her panic grew with Mountain’s continued silence. “Mountain, there is broken glass everywhere outside the venues!”

The stoick ghoul tilted his head to the side like a curious cat, tail flicking in interest at her words.

“You could get hurt!”

“Cute,” his words were followed by two light pats to the tip of her head. “Don’t need to worry about me.”

Turning to wander off again while she squeaked out his name in shock.

***

“Sister, a word- privately,” the Cardinal softened his words the moment her eyes met his. Striking white eye filled with silent care. “If that’s all okie dokie with you.”

“Of course, Cardinal.”

Gentle hands corralled her from her seat at the built in dinner booth where she had been losing steadily at cards against the ghouls. Door softly clicking shut behind them, enclosing them in the small private room at the back of the bus that was seldom used.

“What can I do for you Cardinal?”

“It’s more what I can do for you, Sister.”

Her confused, “huh” had barely left her lips before he continued on. Rushing as if the words would get caught if he did not push them out all in one breath.

“You have been traveling with us for a while, si?” He left no room for a response. “But um not once have you confessed your sins?”

Remaining silent she avoided his glance. Not wanting to admit that the reason she had failed to confess were her sinful thoughts of the man she needed to confess to.

“I just wanted to know if I had done something wrong? To make you, not want to confess, to me?”

Rubbing his fingers together, looking so concerned for her, so downtrodden.

“No,” she rushed to reassure him. “You’ve done so much to make sure I am comfortable here Cardinal! I just- don't have a lot to confess to...”

“Ah, good- that I have not made you uncomfortable! Not that you have felt unable to freely sin in honor of our Lord Lucifer!”

Taking a seat on the couch shoved into the corner of the room. The Cardinal patting the cushion next to him in invitation. Carefully making her way over to his side, trying not to trip over the corner of the bed also squished into the small space. Gingerly sitting down with as much grace as she could manage in the tight space.

“Eek,” she squealed when firm hands pulled her upper body against his, arm pinning her in place. Taking the only option available to her, hiding her face against his shoulder. Soft red velour tickling her face.

“Now that you have at least an illusion of privacy. Pretend you are back in the comfort of confessional back in the abby, piccola.”

Her mind went blank of any sins she could confess to beyond her obsession while in the limited privacy of the tour bus with thinking of the Cardinal’s perfect cock and how it would feel in her aching, empty pussy. Of grinding her throbbing clit against his firm, supple thighs. Hng.

“Oh, ummm vindicate my envy of...”

Small circular motions were rubbed against her back.

“No sin is too small, too indulgent, or embarrassing to confess. Let it out, Sister.”

“My envy of the little plushies that the ghouls are getting from fans, my pride of how my work is ensuring you all look hella good on stage, and hmm... My greedy hoarding of the extra blankets that Dewdrop kicked off his bunk.” 

“Ah I will keep that last one very much a secret from our dear Dewdrop, otherwise you will find him sneaking into your bunk in revenge,” he teased. “Your sins are vindicated, and may your envy be rewarded at our next stop.”

Pulling away from him as she thanked him, pushing down the urge to confess to her attraction to him, “Thank you, Cardinal. I actually do feel better having had my sins vindicated.”

“I will give you any soft plushies I am thrown, Sister. Had I known you were wanting for one I would not have given them away at the end of the show.”

Giggling at his words as a beautiful thought entered her mind of what type of plushie she could be receiving.

“I offer to give you what you yearn for and I am laughed at, so cruel to me Sister.”

Melodramatically clutching his chest in anguish, the sweet little drama queen he pretended to be.

“I can’t wait to own my own little Plushia, Cardinal.”

“Nevermind, I would not dare give you such a cursed object, Sister!”

“They’re not cursed, they’re cute!” She insisted.

“Maybe to someone blind,” he protested with a smile as her laughter grew infectious.

***

Rushing onto the tour bus in a small panic, she looked for the Cardinal. Everything had been taken care of and put back into its proper place except for the pair of black pants that went with one of his infamous tailcoat suits. She had checked all the dressing rooms, backstage, and the racks of costumes- twice. It had been misplaced- she refused to say lost until there was no hope of finding it.

“Cardinal! I need you-”

The ghouls and Cardinal turned to look at her dramatic entrance. Freezing for a moment in intimidation from the brightly demonic eyes of all those already settled on the bus. In mere moments the Cardinal seemed to recognize her distress. Embarrassed at her surely sorry state she tried to settle her wild hair as he stood and rushed to her.

“Sister, are you okie dokie?”

His concern was sweet, but unfortunately made her spiral again.

“I can’t find it!” Not thinking in her panic to explain what she was even looking for, only able to press on with her worry. “I looked everywhere I could think of, even under the fucking couch in the dressing room which I am certain now is covered in bodily fluids that I don’t want to even think about.”

“Sister, you need to relax! Tell your Cardinal what you are looking for.”

“Your tight black pants are missing! Sister is going to kill me, summon me back from hell and then kill me again!” She cried out in anguish.

Losing this job would hurt, she loved it. The fun and excitement of touring. Getting to know her Cardinal and spending more time with him than would have been possible at the ministry.

“Oh Sister, I am so sorry. Satan and more importantly you forgive me!”

Heart dropping to the floor. They were ruined, or somehow they spontaneously combusted. Whatever he was going to tell her happened to them would ruin her life, certainly.

“I have them here,” he gestured to the built in diner style booth the rest of the band was sitting at.

“What?” Clearing her throat after the painfully croaked up whisper she let out.

“I may have um, popped a seam on them,” the Cardinal shyly admitted.

“That’s not the only thing that popped off due to those pants tonight,” someone teased.

“Oh, oh thank Satan I can fix that!”

“I am sorry I did not think to tell you I was taking them back to the bus, Sister.”

Hand pressed against her racing heart as it slowed down to a normal speed, coming down from the stratosphere.

“That’s okay Cardinal, only a minor heart attack was had,” she reassured the poor guilt stricken man. “We can go back into the other room for some privacy when you change back into it for me to fix it.”

“Ah, could it not be fixed while I am not wearing it Sister?”

“It could, but without knowing how much tension the seam should have based on where it broke it’s likely to have issues again. Best to let me see and do an invisible stitch on it.”

“Get it Cardinal,” one of the ghouls whooped.

“Now, Dewdrop no need to be crude. The nice Sister does not need harassment from you over doing her job,” wagging his finger to playfully scold the ghoul.

She really needed to learn how to tell them apart without their instruments when they were all still masked.

“So, I will um see you back there.”

Escaping from the situation by rushing back into the private area at the back of the tour bus, she busied herself with preparing supplies to fix the ripped seam. Distantly hearing something about a booty call followed by laughter from all the ghouls and even the ghoulettes who normally didn’t laugh at more vulgar teasing. It didn’t take long for the Cardinal to join you with a small fond sigh.

“I think they will be making fun of me for a while with this Sister.”

“What did you do, or rather where is this seam Cardinal?”

WIth how the ghouls were carrying on it was likely a crotch seam, but if that had been the case she was sure she would have seen videos by now of the wardrobe malfunction. Along with a dreaded voicemail from Sister Imperator. 

With a flourish to try and hide his flustered cheeks he revealed the pants from how he had folded them. Squinting at them she struggled at first to see the issue, until she finally found it. A small opening of just about two inches. Right in the center of where his ass was.

“Small mercies that the tails cover that up, si Sister?” He laughed at himself. “Too much cake Dewdrop and Swiss teased, even though they know I have not had any cake since the party at the start of the tour.”

Smiling at him as he took initiative to get himself dressed for her to get to work. Doing her best to ignore his nudity and not sneak a glance. Something she failed at many times during those quick changes.

“It’s slang, Cardinal. They were saying you have a nice round ass,” pushing herself to voice the thought and live up to her name as a Sister of Sin.

Something that she would seldom do in front of anyone due to how flustered saying such things made her.

He squeaked at her explanation, playfully giving her a scandalized look. 

“Sister you can’t say such things before you will be feeling up my ass or we will have a very different seam to start worrying about!”

The two of them broke into giggles together.

“Now turn around and let me see what you managed to do to those sinfully frustrating pants.”

***

The Cardinal wasn’t in the little corner of backstage that had been fashioned into a small dressing room of sorts. Frowning, she strained to listen for anything unusual happening on stage, peaking out of the privacy curtain again for the sixth time. Finally catching sight of a flash of pure white slowly moving towards her. Playfully pulling the curtain back and gesturing him in with a flourish that normally would make him laugh.

He didn’t give even a small giggle. Shoulders slumped as he refused to look at her. What had happened on stage?

“Cardinal?” She slowly asked for an explanation.

“I um, if you wouldn’t mind giving me a moment Sister... alone.”

Hands drifting up to start to gesture with his words before his face flushed a bright red, rapidly shoving them back down to cover his crotch. His, very well endowed and very clearly excited crotch.

“Oh!”

Now her face matched his in being as hot as hell surely was.

“Just got a bit too into it with the thrusting, you know how it is,” he tried to deflect. “Or well you probably don’t, you uh don’t really have the anatomy that would make this an issue. Oh Satan, I need to stop talking now. Um, shutting my mouth now.”

During his rambling she realized the issue with letting him “take care” of his not so little issue on his own.

“Cardinal, you can’t jerk yourself off.”

Sending you a look of disbelief, “Sister, I have enough time before I’m needed back on stage and no one comes over here other than us, si?”

“You’ll get the costumes messy with your seamen and it will dry before I can clean it. It would never come out of the fabric,” she began to explain. “Even if you did manage to not get the costumes dirty your hands would be a mess and the sound crew would kill you for getting come on the microphone.”

“Shit,” his head was thrown back as he accepted the unfortunate truth you were giving him. “I don’t know how we will get me into that next suit, Sister. It’s just as tight as this one, though at least it will give me some more modesty. I swear this white one is made to be see-through on purpose!”

Begrudgingly he moved his hands away to start removing his top, while she got up close and personal with the source of both of their frustrations. The Cardinal wasn’t wrong. She could see more than just the outline of his thick, heavy cock pressing into the well tailored pants. The light blush pink of his cock tip was just visible to her when only a few inches away from it.

Hands stumbling at first- like the first time she had to help him undress, knowing now that he wore nothing underneath. The moment she yanked his pants down enough his cock sprung from its confinement. Hitting against his stomach. Swallowing the saliva pooling at the sight of such a pretty cock. Butterflies of the best kind taking up residency in her stomach at this soft moan he was muffling with his leather gloves shoved against his mouth. The sensation of the fabric moving across his cock stimulating him further.

“I think you’re right that you will not be fitting that back into pants without some help, Cardinal... I could help,” she tentatively offered.

“Please Sister, do not torture me like this. I cannot take it.”

“I don’t plan to tease, Cardinal. Not enough time for that tonight.”

Trailing a finger tip softly down the length, watching his thighs twitch while he squeaked.

“I sound like one of my rats squeaking for attention,” he whined.

Giving a playful lick to the tip while fishing for an answer, “I need consent from those pretty painted lips before mine get to work.”

She had never been so bold. Yet the pull of lust built up over the weeks made it easy to fall into this confidant role she was playing.

“Please,” he was more breathless than he ever was at the end of the show.

Capturing his cock with her lips, sliding down until she could take no more into her mouth. Sucking in more of him with each moan and whine he ruined his voice with. Hands resting against her hair, so considerate of her comfort that he took no control of her.  Choosing instead to help keep her hair from getting in her eyes, letting her work his cock at her own pace.

The sound of the ghoul’s musical dueling creating the perfect rhythm to follow. Humming along lowly to parts to make her Cardinal let out the prettiest of sounds. Making sure to repeat the movements that got her the best reactions. They didn’t have much time. His foot moving to press the tips of his shoes against her clit, just resting with a light pressure that felt so good.

Moving her hands to take advantage of the situation to feel up his ass. So soft, just a perfect ass that she envied. She wanted to use it as a stress ball, indulging in some light squeezes as she forced his cock to tickle her throat. Swallowing down her saliva with his cock. She couldn’t afford to get saliva on the pants pooled around his ankles.

It didn’t take long to solve his “problematic” erection. A few bobs to tickle her throat while looking up at him with watery, pleading eyes made him come undone. Both whining as she attempted to swallow the burst of come flooding her mouth.

Lightly thrusting against his shoes with a small cry of need.

“Shit, so good Sister. Fuck! I need to get back onstage.”

Trying to control her pout was hard as they both rushed to finish dressing him in his next suit. Her consolation prize was him guiding her to lower her head for a soft kiss to the top of her skull.

“Later Sister I promise to live between your glorious thighs all night long like the ghouls have been teasing me for daydreaming about. Give you a little somethin’ something, yeah?”

[whump-ghoul]

Ghost Whump Month #1: “Are you okay?”

Summary: in which Copia offloads his insecurities to some unlikely listeners. (Just a lil' character study)

WC: 1491

Tags: angst / insecurity / mentions of depression / google translate Italian

(Big thanks to @cirrus-ghoulette for this event, Whump is my thing! Shameless plug, but I do run a Whump writing prompts blog: @promptsforyourwhumpfic!)

The rats were squeaking at him; chirping their excited noises at the food bringer who appeared a little sad. Collectively, they emerged from their habitats, a trio having to untangle themselves from an afternoon nap in one of their hammocks. They padded to the now open cage door and into the expectant palms of the newly anointed Papa.

The rats cared not for his embellished title, and that’s what he adored about them the most. There were no stakes to his presence; no expectations other than respect and care, and no need to constantly be putting out fires as he was now expected to. The rats cared not for the fancy clothes he adorned, nor the time it took for him to perfect his ritual makeup. In this moment of quietness; when the ministry was to be asleep, they cared for the man who showed them endless kindness in his ministrations.

“Ah, good evening to you too.” Copia greeted, bringing the two that had settled in his palms to his pointed nose.

“I see you are doing well, how do you like the hammock, hm?”

In their appreciation, the black and white rats licked at his nose. He chuckled.

“I’m glad to hear it i miei ratti, I’m just glad someone appreciates what I do…” he checked to see that the door to the spare room was shut before allowing the rats to free-roam. Guilt tugged at his heart when he remembered he’d been neglecting their enrichment needs as of late, so despite how tired he felt, he was going to let them roam for as long as they wished - he trusted them to entertain themselves should he fall prey to sleep.

The spare room was small; traditionally used for storage but his unconventional upbringing saw him with few personal belongings, so he decided to dedicate it to his pets. His friends - companions. After all they owned him more than he owned them - not that he'd admit it of course. All he allowed himself was a small armchair near the window with a side table to watch over the rats as they played. The wooden floor had as many spare rugs as he could find so the rats wouldn't slip as they run, as well as a myriad of toys and tunnels for them to explore.

Satisfied that they were able to entertain themselves he settled in his chair; his bones aching for rest despite his racing mind and incessant pounding behind his eyes.

“How do you do it, hm?” He spoke aloud to the rats. The large brown female, Rosa, began to scale his leg, utilising the purposeful ladders and loose threads in the trousers to get to Copias lap. Right. He’d forgotten he was still in the clothes from the morning's wardrobe testing. He’d only just had time to mindlessly toss a hoodie over his head before heading off to complete more duties regarding the next leg of Rituals. When he looked down at the pocket Rosa was trying to bury herself in, he came to the realization that it wasn’t his jumper that he had picked up. No, the dramatically oversized hoodie most likely belonged to Aether.

Copia sighed in his exhaustion - it was yet another thing he would have to rectify, yet the comforting aura emanating from the fabric had him in no rush to return it.

“They’re going to think of me as a fool.” He spoke aloud, accent thick with tiredness. “That’s If they do not already think so. I have already messed up too much on this tour of Rituals; I am forgetful of lyrics and too anxious to make a mistake. To the Ghouls, their showmanship comes easily, but to me… I think Sister Imperator may have made a mistake.

How am I supposed to live up to a sacred bloodline? I work hard, that is true, but that mostly comes from the workload given to me; not the work I seek. I’ve always been scholarly, I know this, but there’s little else to do when the other children do not wish to be friends with you - when you do not even know your own family. I do envy you, my rats; your companionship and loyalty to one another. La tua famiglia. I am reminded of this with my Ghouls.

Ah. Well. I do not like calling them my ghouls. They may have been summoned for me, but I do not wish to lay claim to them. They are their own beings; their own family. They are quick witted and sure of themselves and their chemistry during Rituals is unmatched. I would not say that I am jealous but… well... I guess I am.”

Copia couldn’t help but feel tears of frustration come to his bloodshot eyes. He didn’t have the right to feel envious.

“I shouldn’t be, no, not when I do not work hard enough to be better. Nihil likes to remind me so; that despite everything I’ll never be them. I am so tired. Physically yes, but emotionally too. I need to rest, that is what my body tells me, but my mind forces me to move; to practice, to attend mass, to constantly strive to be better.”

He ground his palms into his eyes, barely dispersing the pain with his cool, shaking hands.

“Worst of all I cannot get rid of this headache; it pounds behind my eyes and I cannot seem to sleep. I can hardly eat as it is and I know what Sister is going to say. She’ll tell me I’m wasting away; that I am not strong enough; imposing enough to be Papa.”

He sighed, tears falling free despite himself.

“I snapped at the ghouls today, and I have felt awful since. They do not deserve it, they were only asking if I’m okay… I suppose I am not, but I need to be enough for them. A Papa needs to be strong. A leader. A Papa cannot be weak like me.

Am I not enough already?”

He felt a nibble at his finger, and found all six of his rats in his lap; looking up at him with beady, expectant eyes. Rosa lifted her nose from where she chewed lightly at his knuckles. The black and white twins had decided themselves in his hoodie pocket, their tail ends poking from one side as the white male groomed Rosa, and the black and gray (the latest additions Sister definitely knows about) nervously sniffed at his trousers. Copia was immediately brought back into the room, his pounding heart slowing slightly at the reminder of his reality rather than the hypotheticals his mind suggested.

“Ah, I’m sorry, mia bellas, I have been rambling again. Are you ready to return to your cage? I suppose I should be heading to bed soon… I must try to get rid of this headache… and I have to be up in good time to complete some paperwork for Sister before yet another day of engagements.” The thought of which made his stomach churn, and his head swim.

At the words, the rats instinctively began to scale back down his leg; the Papa extending it out to be more of a ramp for the elder-most ones. He stood, swayed a little on the spot, and shakily helped his friends back to the cage. Since it was bedtime, they knew better than to move from their platform as Copia collected some treats for them.

“Ah I am running low on these chips, I am sorry my friends.” He apologized sincerely, yet another admission of guilt. He wondered when the feelings of liability and anxiety would cease as he handed them the last few of the bag; the smaller, broken ones that often fell to the bottom. Rosa, the large rat from before hesitated, instead placing her paw on his fingers that offered the treat.

“I am fine, mio amico.” He insisted in a whisper as the sounds of five other snacking rats filled the silence. She stared for a moment, then looked towards the door to the room, her ears perked. Copia gently shook the hand she rested on. Still unconvinced, Rosa still took her treat and trotted off to bed. Copia watched her go as he shut, locked and double checked the fastenings of the cage door. He trusted the rats not to escape, he just didn’t trust anyone else not to get to them; not after the hushed rumors regarding his unusual pets that always found their way to him.

For a moment, he allowed his head to rest on the cool bars, relishing in the scent of sawdust and the fruit he had left in their bowl that morning. Tomorrow, he decided, tomorrow he would reorganize their cage and refresh their food.

Rosa chirped, and he cracked open an eye.

“Yes, yes, I’m going.” He sighed, pushing away from the large cage and staggering towards the door. 

Sleep sounded ideal.