Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Primo’s grimly elaborate house sprawled beneath a low gray sky. Snow softened the edges of the dark wood, transforming it into a Gothic gingerbread house trimmed with icing. It should have been pretty. But Copia’s head hurt from the plane and a long drive from the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport, accompanied by his silent ghoul and his yapping assistant, and now he just squinted at his brother’s house as if it had offended him.

“Frater,” said Bishop Forge, who was young (though not as young as he looked) and eager and friendly and hardworking. His hair was tied back, and he wore a bishop’s cassock under a heavy jacket. The hem was darker than the rest from snow melting, creeping up the fabric in a watery gradient. “We’re right on time. Do we knock? I’ve never met Primo Emeritus. Is he nice?”

“No,” said Copia shortly.

Aether put a hand on the back of Copia’s neck, a gesture of affection that felt good with a flow of quintessence that felt better, but Copia shrugged him off and shook his head a little. He didn’t keep his relationship a secret, but affection in front of higher clergy still felt…uneasy. However, he did get the message to ease off a little. His bad mood was not really the bishop’s fault.

“But, uh, but yes. We’ll knock.”

The narrow sidewalk from driveway to door was shoveled clear, with walls of snow on either side that didn’t even come up to Copia’s knee but somehow made him feel uneasy and claustrophobic. Copia went to knock on his brother’s door, but before he could, it opened, revealing Primo’s ghoul assistant, whose arms were bare despite the cold.

“Hello,” said Copia. “Primo was expecting—”

“Come in,” said the ghoul, and took Copia’s suitcase in one hand and Bishop Forge’s in another. He nodded behind him. “They’re finishing lunch.” And with that he took off in another direction to put their suitcases away, while Copia led the way through the now-familiar house into the dining room.

And there, for the first time since touching down in Minnesota, Copia smiled.

“Copia!” exclaimed Perpetua, nearly knocking over his seat as he hurried over to hug him.

Copia hugged him back. “You knew I was coming.”

“Yes, but it’s still good to see you,” he said, pulling back.

Copia almost twitted him that if he’d come home to the Ministry he’d see him more, but he didn’t. He knew why Perpetua hadn’t been home. “Hello, Jack,” he said as Perpetua led him to the table.

“Hi, Copia,” said Jack, who was sitting at the table. He looked different, and Copia wasn’t sure why at first—he had the same short red hair and slight figure—until he realized he’d lost that nervous prey-animal look, and he was sitting in the chair with a loose and easy posture. “How was your flight?”

“Good,” said Copia, then paused. “No. I’m lying. It was awful and too early. But it’s all right. Hello, Primo, Eden.”

Primo sat at the head of the table like God, except Primo would never appreciate that comparison. His lined face didn’t smile, but he nodded at Copia. “Fratellino,” he said. “Who is this?” He was looking behind him.

Bishop Forge was standing in the doorway still, looking around, fingers tracing over the carved door frame. “This is a beautiful house,” he said. “It seems too big for just Father Emeritus…”

“Well, it’s a good thing it’s not just Primo,” said Eden. “I’m married to him. And we have Jack, and Perpetua, and the ghouls. Who are you?”

“Oh!” He straightened up and smiled. “I’m Frater Imperator’s assistant.”

“Bishop Forge,” Copia added, praying no one asked for his first name because he couldn’t remember at the moment.

“Given the task before him,” Forge continued, “and given how long he had to stay last time there was a family incident, the clergy wanted me to accompany to ensure that there are no problems. But it’s an honor to meet you, Father. Your career is legendary, and I know you’ve done great things for the church here.”

“I have not,” Primo said. “I retired not long ago. The credit goes to my wife.”

“Of course, of course,” said Bishop Forge. “I apologize. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Father Eden Emeritus! Or is it Mother Eden Emeritus?”

“I don’t really like either,” Eden admitted. “Father feels too masculine, and Mother reminds me how much I don’t want kids. I usually just go by Eden. Do you all need lunch? Copia? Aether? Do you even eat, Aether?”

“I eat,” Aether said. “But I’m all right. Copia hasn’t had lunch, though.”

Copia shot him a look, and Aether just grinned at him. With his glamour fully in place he looked like an ordinary if very large man, with long tawny hair and a bit of a beard, but his smile was fanged. Copia sighed and let out a laugh.

“No problem,” said Eden. “You guys have a seat. It’s nice to meet you, Bishop Forge. Do you have a first name?”

“Nah, my mom named me Bishop,” he joked, and Eden laughed. Copia felt a little guilty for his shortness. Maybe Forge wouldn’t be too much of a problem. Maybe the annoyance was all on Copia’s mood and nothing more. “It’s Tobias, but no one ever calls me that.”

“Like the hawk in Animorphs?” said Eden, earning a laugh from Jack and Perpetua but a blank look from everyone else. “You uncultured fucks. Never mind. Let me talk to the ghoul and get you guys some lunch. ‘Scuse me.” She slipped away and Copia took a seat.

“So,” Primo said. “You’re here. Good.” He looked a little tired, and Copia frowned.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Primo said sharply, but then he looked at Jack and Perpetua and let out a sigh, expression softening. “The winters do not always agree with these old bones. It is nothing to concern yourself with. Spring will come again, as it always does. You are not here to ask after my health, fratellino, but for a purpose.”

“Yeah,” Copia said, and folded his hands in front of him. “Rumor has it you still have a rogue ghoul.”

Jack flinched, and some of that tight fear settled over his shoulders again. “I really am sorry about that—”

“It’s not your fault,” Copia assured him. “You needed them.”

“Jack really did a great job with the summoning,” Perpetua said, looking proud, hand on his arm.

“Yes, he did,” said Primo. “But that does not resolve the issue. Jack is inexperienced in Satanic practice and the ghoul, Locust, needs someone with more strength and knowledge to tend to them”

“Has it been, uh, a problem?” asked Copia as Eden came back and sat down. “Locust hasn’t been out killing people or anything? I mean,” he said, “aside from the first day.”

“No,” said Primo. “One of the local farmers had a few cows missing, but we don’t know if that’s Locust’s doing or some of the feral dogs in Dovetail.”

“Probably the damn dogs,” Eden said. “Our ghoul says Locust hasn’t done too much.”

“They live in an abandoned silo on the edge of town,” Perpetua added.

“Grain bin,” corrected Jack and Eden together.

“It’s like a silo but shorter,” added Jack.

“Aether?” said Copia, looking to him rather than paying attention to the nuances of farm country vocabulary, because Aether had straightened up and squared his shoulders.

“That,” he said, “is no place for a ghoul.” His mouth was curved down, worried.

“I know,” said Eden. “We didn’t put them there, though, they did it themself. That’s why we wanted you to come.”

“Yes, yes,” said Copia. “You want to transfer ownership of Locust from Jack to me.”

Jack winced. “Do we have to put it that way?” he asked. “I hate to think I summoned a slave.”

Aether let out a soft laugh. “No ghoul is a slave,” he said. “They do not do anything they don’t want to do. If you try, they’ll return themself to the Pit—or attack you, if it’s within their abilities. An owner can place some limits, not to mention guide and direct and ask and cajole, even, but they can’t force us to do anything. But that’s why we usually say ‘summoner.’”

Jack nodded, looking mollified but still troubled. He’d probably heard all this before, but Copia guessed that it was hard to wrap one’s head around for anyone who hadn’t been raised in it.

“Why me, though?” Copia asked. “Primo’s a more experienced Satanist than I am.”

“Locust does not seem to have any desire to join my ghouls as a pack,” Primo said. “We thought it might be best to transfer them to you, fratellino. As Frater Imperator you have a great deal of power, and you still have Aether, not to mention Perpetua’s ghouls still at the Ministry. New ghouls may be better.”

Eden nodded. “Primo also hasn’t been feeling well—”

“Diavolina,” Primo interrupted, and raised his hand. “Do not worry my brother, please. I’m fine. But still, she is right: all other reasoning aside, I don’t feel up to the task.”

Perpetua spoke up then. “We asked Terzo as well, since his ghouls would be amenable, but between his condition and Blake, he didn’t feel up to it, and Secondo has no desire to keep ghouls at the moment. And I’m not leaving here until I’m touring again or Jack wants to move.” He smiled a little at Jack in a sappy way that would be annoying if it weren’t so sweet.

“So it falls to me,” said Copia, stomach twisting at the last announcement. He wanted Perpetua home, but that wasn’t his call. “Well, we can do it, certainly. If Locust doesn’t want to be my ghoul, they can go back to the Pit and wait for a summoner they like better.”

“Pretty much,” said Eden with a nod. “You can use our ritual room whenever you’re ready.”

Copia made a face. “Is there an alternative? I know what you two do in there.”

Eden blushed. Primo just sipped his coffee, face expressionless, which somehow seemed even more smug than anything else could have.

Primo’s unnamed ghoul entered the dining room then, setting down plates of spaghetti for Copia, Aether, and Bishop Forge.

“Thank you, ghoul,” Copia said, and started in. “Anyway, there’s no rush, is there?”

“Frater,” said Bishop Forge then. He’d had the good grace to be quiet for most of the conversation, but now there was a conversation about scheduling so he was ready to participate. “You do have duties to attend to.”

“A day or two won’t make a difference,” Copia said.

“Well, no, I guess not,” he said agreeably. “But attending to some feral ghoul—it’s a noble task, I think, but between your other duties, is that…I mean, wouldn’t it be kinder to just banish this ghoul back to the Pit?”

“No,” said Aether then. He straightened up next to Copia, looking big and solid. “No. If this ghoul wanted to be banished, they wouldn’t be—wandering around town, living in a silo, lurking and watching things. Ghouls come to this plane to experience things, and Locust should have the chance.”

Bishop Forge cleared his throat. “Um. Of course. Excuse me, Frater, I didn’t mean to presume.”

“I know you didn’t,” Copia said, not ungently. “You’re concerned about my work. But I’ve been Frater Imperator for a few years. I know my responsibilities.” He was good at his job. He kept everything running smoothly. It had taken him a while to warm to it, but he was good at it now. “I can balance them, so don’t worry yourself. In the meantime, I am trying to visit with my brothers and my in-laws…”

Bishop Forge actually blushed. “And I’m a…seventh wheel?” he said, looking around and counting in his head. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Maybe I’ll go and, uh, drive around town a little or something.”

“There isn’t much to see,” said Copia, “but go ahead.” Forge had the keys to the rental anyway.

“Hey, now,” said Eden. “We have a Taco Bell now. We’re practically cosmopolitan.”

“Oh, well,” Copia said. “You can go admire their Taco Bell.”

“It’s really a nice town,” said Perpetua. “Jack and I like wandering around the antique shop. The next town over has some good stuff, too. There’s a nice music store. And a Dairy Queen.”

“I saw there’s some kind of apple orchard, but I guess there aren’t any apples at the moment,” said Bishop Forge.

“Nope,” said Eden. “They have a gift shop, though, open year-round. The apple butter is pretty good.”

“Maybe I’ll try it,” said Bishop Forge. “Well, uh, thanks. I’ll get out of the way for a bit.”

“See you later, Bishop,” said Eden.

He left, and Copia sighed, feeling himself relax for the first time in hours. This time, when Aether put a hand on his back, he didn’t shrug it off.

“You need an assistant now, Copia?” asked Perpetua.

“No, I fucking do not,” said Copia. “But the clergy got concerned about how much time I spent here last time and assigned me the kid to keep me on task.”

“‘The Kid’ is probably my age,” Eden pointed out.

“You’re a kid, too,” Copia said, then shot a look at Primo. “Uh. I mean.”

“I am aware that my Eden is somewhat younger than I am,” Primo said dryly. “But she is no child and neither is your new shadow. It is all right, Copia. My house has plenty of space, as he rightly noticed.”

Eden put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s a little fuller now than it used to be,” she said softly.

“It is that,” he agreed, “and I welcome it.” He gave Jack what might not be a smile, exactly, but was certainly a kinder look. “Jack and Perpetua being here has been welcome, and of course I am always glad for you, carina. Still. He will not be a problem, this bishop, even if he is unexpected. Are you and he…?”

“Absolutely not,” Copia said with a snort. “He’s fine. He is a good assistant, even if sometimes I want to take his schedules and feed them to him. But still, I had wanted to visit my family without a juvenile babysitter along to remind me how efficiently I can use my time.”

“Why do you think I’ve been staying here?” Perpetua said, and then he grinned that big, toothy grin. “Other than the obvious reason.”

Copia glanced at Jack, who looked pleased at being the obvious reason. “I guess I didn’t think past the obvious,” he said. “You have your thing with Jack. I thought that was enough.”

“It is,” Perpetua agreed. “But Jack and I did talk about it and we wanted to stay here for a while. The Ministry gets a little crowded, and there’s always someone up my ass reminding me of work. I’ve done a better job writing new songs here without all that pressure than I did at the Ministry.”

Copia felt a guilty knot in his stomach. “I didn’t realize, fratello,” he said. “I could have told them to leave you alone…”

“You did,” Perpetua said. “You also got them to stop bothering me about the Prime Mover thing without telling them I was trans, and you got them to stop tracking my phone. You did a lot for me, Copia. But Jack and I just feel more comfortable here.”

“Well,” Copia said. “I guess that’s something.”

“If we could get you living here,” Perpetua said, “that’d be the best of all worlds. Then I could spend time with Jack and my brother and Primo and Eden…”

“Well, I can’t,” said Copia shortly. “I run the Ministry, remember? I can’t just run off whenever I want, because when I try, they send some asshole with a Palm Pilot after me.”

“Do they still make Palm Pilots?” wondered Eden.

Aether rubbed Copia’s back a little. “You need a vacation,” he said softly.

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” Copia said with a snort. “Never mind that. We need to figure out this ghoul situation.”

“So we do,” said Primo. “If you would prefer not to use the ritual room, we can set something up at the church. But it will take a day or two.”

“I can live with that,” Copia said, and sighed. A day or two to wait for a ritual and spend time with his brothers? That was a vacation.

Chapter Text

Locust was not the one eating Dovetail’s cows, no matter what anyone thought.

Locust had overheard the humans—Jack, of course, and Papa, and the priest, and the retired priest—talking about the concerns with the cows weeks ago. And Locust had taken it upon themself to take care of it. Feral dog didn’t taste very good, but no one was attacking the farmer’s cows anymore, a fact Locust was rather proud of. But no one seemed to notice. All they mentioned was that the cows had been attacked. They hadn’t noticed that it had stopped.

Locust considered explaining, but they weren’t sure there was any point. They weren’t sure about anything.

Jack had summoned them with one purpose: to protect him. To attack those who meant to do him harm. And Locust had done that very well, and eliminated all threats. So now…what was there?

The priests’ ghouls had encouraged them to join their pack. But those ghouls had their own concerns. The unnamed one took care of the priests and the house and kept it tidy. Fluorescence flew through the air, singing to themself, playing and laughing and enjoying their existence. Both of them kept an eye on things, kept the priests and their family and property safe and cared for.

Locust would add nothing to their pack, and knew it. They had been summoned for Jack, and they did their best to keep an eye on things still. But no one needed Locust, and Locust had no desire to be where they weren’t needed.

So Locust wandered the woods at night, and the farms. Sometimes they looked in windows of houses. They watched people eating, and laughing, and fucking, and cuddling, living their lives. They watched for threats against their summoner, just in case, but aside from some grumbling about trans people in general from the Christian church, there was nothing, and even that was not enough to attack and kill.

They wished it was. They wished they could taste blood, yes, but more than that, they wished they could do something, anything.

They should ask to return to the Pit, they thought sometimes.

But whenever they considered it, they thought of the scent of snow in the air. They thought of gliding on their thin, papery wings from one place to another, feeling the cold and wind. They thought of standing in a patch of sun, feeling it warm their gray skin. The formlessness of the Pit offered none of these things, and they weren’t ready to return to it, not yet.

On this night they sat outside the priest’s mansion, listening to everything within.

Jack and the current Papa were in the basement, with those sounds that meant they were making love again. Locust had seen and heard that enough and moved on to another window.

The Dovetail priest and the retired priest were in their shared room on the second floor, where Locust could see through a gap in the curtains.

“I’m not so old that I need a caretaker, diavolina,” the retired one said shortly.

“I never said you did,” said his wife. “But this winter’s been rough. You know it has. Have you thought about moving after all? Somewhere warmer?”

“I don’t see how we can,” he said. “Your church needs you, and you know the Ministry would not send another priest so skilled. And Jack and Perpetua need this house.” His voice softened. “My Eden. Do not worry so much.”

When Locust looked in, his hand cupped the woman’s face, and she leaned into it.

Locust put their own hand against their own face, but it didn’t feel like much. And then the old priest leaned in for a kiss, and Locust opened their wings to find another window.

There was a long-haired man, a bishop, who was happily listening to music on headphones while he looked at his Palm Pilot. Locust liked music, but their hearing wasn’t good enough to make out much, and they neither knew nor cared what he was writing. They tried to sense if the bishop meant Jack any harm, and he did not, nor did he mean Jack anything favorable, nor was he doing anything worth watching, so Locust left to find the last lit room. The curtains here were firmly closed, but they could hear inside.

Frater Imperator, the highest of the clergy, and his quintessence ghoul were there inside. The ghoul spoke in a soft rumble against Frater’s higher voice. It was easy to make out which was which.

“You work too hard,” said the ghoul.

“I’m not even doing anything, Aether,” he said. “Besides, I need to do this. You know I do. There’s no one else who can, really.”

“I don’t mean that,” said the ghoul. “I mean everything else. You won’t let me touch you in front of him.”

Frater Imperator didn’t answer for a long moment. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be,” said the ghoul. “I understand. I know…I know you want one thing you don’t have to share with the Ministry, and I am happy to be that. But I see what it does to you. To not be able to take solace when it’s offered. And usually when you go to your brothers’ homes you come back relaxed, but you’re as tense as you are at home. I don’t like it.”

“Well, it is what it is,” said Frater Imperator with a sigh. “This is a work visit, not a pleasure visit. Besides, I have a little time before we have to work.”

“True,” said the ghoul, and this time there was a smile to his voice. “And the bishop isn’t here with us right now.”

“You noticed that, too?” said Frater Imperator. “Maybe you should relax me.”

“Maybe I should,” agreed the ghoul.

And then there were sounds of kissing, and the soft rustle of clothing being removed. Locust sat in the window, legs dangling, listening to Aether’s low murmur, to Frater Imperator’s answering whine.

“Let me take care of you,” Aether murmured.

“You always do,” came Frater Imperator’s voice, punctuated with heavy breathing. “Fuck—fuck. Right there—”

Locust put their hand on their cheek again, and wondered what the touch of someone else felt like. They wondered what it felt like to be taken care of. But they didn’t think they would ever know.

They had been summoned for one purpose, and they had fulfilled it. And now they lingered in this world, unwilling to go back to the Pit and its formlessness, and wondered if their existence here on Earth was really so different at all.

Chapter Text

Copia was starting to think the headache was permanent.

Bishop Forge had found out there would be a day or two before they could start the resummoning ritual to transfer the ghoul to Copia. But instead of agreeing that it was a great opportunity for Copia to rest and catch up with his brothers, he felt it was a great opportunity to force Copia into virtual meetings. Well, he didn’t really force him, but Copia didn’t feel like he could say no.

He was head of the clergy, but being the head of something meant you answered to a body. Hence, the tension in his back contributing to his headache. That and the droning of other bishops and priests, and the tiny little disputes that he had to resolve somehow, and the petty problems, and the little details.

He did it. He did it well. He got to the heart of each matter and made suggestions. He allocated people, and he managed money. Unlike his brothers, he had risen through the ranks on his own merits, not been bred and trained to take on the papacy—or, in V’s case, something stranger. Copia’s parentage had been unknown for most of his life, and while his mother had secretly been greasing the wheels and pushing him in a certain direction, he’d spent the time learning how to do it all, unaware of her intervention. He could still probably give a sermon if he had to, and he hadn’t been an ordinary priest in decades.

At last, the ritual space in Eden’s church was ready for him. Eden herself had been the one to draw the summoning circle, with its modifications for a transfer of ownership. Perpetua had set up the candles. Copia ignored the looks Perpetua and Jack exchanged near the altar. Did everyone have to fuck on an altar and then smirk about it? Insufferable, the lot of them.

He wondered if Aether would want to try it sometime.

It was a Wednesday, so there was nothing happening in the church itself. Eden had mentioned that they wanted to start some outreach, maybe in the spring—something like the work at Secondo’s church in Missouri, where his own fiance gave cooking classes, but things kept not working out. Poor Eden was full of ideas, ideas that people liked, but working within an established if growing community didn’t always allow them to be acted upon.

“Bishop Forge is good at scheduling,” said Copia. “Maybe he could figure it out.”

“I don’t think so, Frater,” said Bishop Forge, looking on his Palm Pilot. “We have a few hours for the ritual, and then you’ll stay one more night here, and then we have a flight home tomorrow. Sorry, Eden. I wish I could help.”

“It’s fine,” Eden assured him. “I can manage.”

Copia had not summoned anything in quite a long time. He’d done a similar resummoning when he’d taken on the Ghost project, taking on Aether and Dewdrop and the others, and he’d summoned a few on his own when he was papa. But as Frater Imperator, there was seldom cause. He’d transferred his ghouls to Perpetua, and banished a few who were ready to go home, and kept Aether. He would always keep Aether, as long as Aether let him.

So for the first time in a long time, he approached the summoning circle as a priest.

The pews weren’t full, but he had spectators. Eden and Primo were sitting to watch, which was fair since it was Eden’s church. Aether hung around there as well, and Perpetua. Bishop Forge and his own beloved Palm Pilot were sitting in the very front, not particularly interested in the proceedings.

Jack was the only one at the circle beside him. Jack looked nervous, which was not unusual, but he also looked determined. “I might not have done right by this ghoul, but I will now,” Jack said.

“You didn’t do them any harm,” Copia assured him. “But you’re right. We’ll make this right.”

“At least I know about the blood part this time,” Jack said, shooting a look at Perpetua in the pews.

“Sorry!” Perpetua said. “I didn’t have time to warn you last—”

“Shush!” Copia told them both. And now, with that significant word, he began the ritual, before someone could interrupt again, or the bishop could find him another meeting to attend.

He cut his finger, and Jack did the same, this time not on teeth but on ritual knives borrowed from Primo and Eden, matching knives with stones gleaming. His blood spilled into the circle, a blood offering for the dark god he often forgot to pray to in all the busywork of leading his clergy. He and Jack began to chant—him with words he knew well and had often said before, and Jack in the uneasy cadence of a man who had just memorized them.

The circle began to glow, a deep and pulsing red. And then there was a sound like thunder, and the soft whispered hiss of a bug’s wings rasping against themselves.

And in the center of the circle appeared the shape of a ghoul, which resolved into a solid form. They wore a mask, a darker gray than their smooth dark skin and dust-colored fur, and nothing more.

“Ghoul,” he said. “Do you know who your summoner was?”

If Locust was startled at suddenly vanishing from where they had been and appearing in this church, they didn’t show it. “It was him,” Locust said, red eyes flicking to Jack. “But now it’s not.” Their eyes went to Copia. “You are my summoner now?”

“Yes,” said Copia, and breathed out a sigh of relief. “Yes. You are my ghoul now.”

Locust’s tail waved for a moment behind them.

“I was summoned before for protection and vengeance,” Locust said.

“Yes,” Copia said. “And now you’ve transferred to me. But if you’d rather not have me, I can send you to the Pit, and you can wait until another chance. What do you think?”

Locust looked around the room. Their eyes gleamed the same dark red as the summoning circle, or maybe the red of clay and earth. “I do not want to go back to the Pit,” said Locust. “Not yet.”

“Good,” said Copia.

Locust stood there for a long moment. Their wings flickered out from their back like a grasshopper’s, paper-thin, the light visible through it. “So you are now my summoner,” they said to Copia, as if asking for clarification yet again.

“Er, yes,” said Copia. “Yes, I am.”

Locust nodded once.

And then they leaped out of the circle and into the front pew, where their teeth tore into the throat of Bishop Forge.

Chapter Text

Aether knew the bishop was dead before the Palm Pilot smashed to the ground, followed by the body, tumbling out of the pew in a crumpled heap. Forge hadn’t had time to scream, just let out a wet, bubbling breath before that gurgled into silence.

“No!” exclaimed Copia, dashing to his assistant, but his legs got tangled in the robe he’d worn and he almost stumbled into Locust.

At the near impact, Locust hissed, a dry rattling sound like the one that had preceded their resummoning. Copia grabbed onto them, and Locust bit his wrist, making him yelp and jerk back.

“Forge was right,” Copia snapped, shaking his hand. “I should have banished this fucking feral ghoul.”

Locust shrank back, hissing again, tail flapping and wings spread. And then they were gone. Not a ghoulish vanishing act; they had flown up like a confused bug and smashed through one of the stained glass windows, leaving shards of yellow and red raining down in their wake.

“Is—is he dead?” asked Jack, frightened, still near the summoning circle.

Primo rolled back the body of Bishop Forge and nodded solemnly. “He is. Fratellino, are you badly hurt?”

Copia was examining his own arm. He shook it, then sighed. “Didn’t break skin, anyway. This is just…uh…” He looked down at the bishop. “His blood. I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack whispered. “I didn’t know—”

“We need to find that fucking ghoul,” Copia said over him. “Drag them back here to banish. They cannot be brought to the Ministry, not like this.”

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart,” Perpetua was telling Jack, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Did he have family?” Eden was asking Copia.

“I have no idea,” Copia said. “I—I really don’t know him except he annoyed me and I—and—fuck.” He was checking his hand again.

“I really didn’t mean for this to happen,” Jack was saying, clinging to Perpetua.

“Everyone needs to calm down,” Primo said, gravely, hands raised.

Normally, those words failed to calm anyone. But all at once everyone remembered that this was not the first corpse Primo had dealt with, and the room fell quiet.

There was a long breath of silence for a moment. The ghoul Fluorescence shimmered near the broken window, already working to clean up the glass, but did not pursue Locust. Fluorescence had protected other guests before, and had been vengeful against their attackers, but not now.

Aether took that in a moment, face set as he watched the vague form of Fluorescence. “I am going to go,” he said quietly.

Copia looked up sharply. “What?”

“I need to talk to Locust.” His voice was calm and patient.

“Bring them back, you mean, to banish,” Copia said. “Be careful.”

“I didn’t say that,” Aether said. “I said am going to talk to them.”

But he took Copia’s hands and kissed his knuckles. He tried to wipe the blood from his arm—Forge’s blood—and revealed the dent underneath made by ghoul teeth, already softening back into unmarred flesh.

“But,” he said, “I will be careful.”

Copia looked at him, doubtful, but his eyes went back to the corpse on the ground, and he sighed. “Sure. Fine. Go. I have enough to deal with right now.”

Aether studied him for a moment, then drew back. He could sense the ghoul, but it wasn’t rage he’d read on them, nor was it mere bloodlust, and of course he could also sense calm on Fluorescence that told him more.

But there was no time to explain any of this, not now. He didn’t think Copia would listen.

So instead, he left out the church’s front door. He closed his eyes and let tendrils of quintessence spill from him like so much sweat, invisible to anyone but the other ghouls and maybe, sometimes, the Emeritus clan and the heads of the clergy, usually one and the same. And he followed those tendrils to the ghoul that he sought.

The snow was knee-high, but he paid it no mind, crunching through it until he reached the edges of Dovetail.

Here stood what had probably once been a proper farm. A brick chimney crumbled into the snow as a monument to a house that had once stood. A barn decayed nearby, the last vestiges of red paint still clinging to the cracks of grayed and broken boards. Not far away were a few grain bins, like a handful of oversized tin cans left out to the elements. One still had its roof, pointed like a fairy cap, and this was the one he headed towards.

He had never been so close to one and wasn’t sure how to get in. He looked around it until he spotted a ladder, and started climbing up.

Locust, Locust, send down your hair, he thought vaguely, smiling to himself, until he reached the egress and peered in.

The inside did not have wheat or corn, just an echoing emptiness and the smell of rust. He looked down to the ground, and there was Locust. They’d found a yellowed mattress somewhere, and sat on it now, wrapped up in blankets he was pretty sure he remembered being in Primo’s house on his last visit.

Their mask was gone, and so was their glamour, though to Aether’s eyes they didn’t look that different from before. It was humans who couldn’t look at a fully unglamoured ghoul, although that left a lot of space for interpretation in between.

“Locust?” he said.

They looked up, eyes flashing. “Are you here to bring me back? To be banished again?”

Their voice echoed in the metal room. He heaved himself in through the small doorway and onto the platform within. There, he took off his mask and let his glamour fall away—no longer a large man, but a large ghoul, his thick tail waving behind him, spaded at the end like any quintessence ghoul’s. His skin shifted to a soft purple-gray, and his hair faded to white. He considered climbing down the ladder. Instead he jumped down with a thud, still several feet away from Locust.

“I’m here to talk,” he said.

Locust pushed off the blankets and uncurled from where they were. “And then banish me, I guess.”

Aether came over and sat down on the mattress with them. It bounced under him a little. “Shouldn’t they? You did kill someone unprovoked. And you bit Copia,” he added as an afterthought.

“I didn’t mean to bite him,” Locust said, and pulled their tail into their lap, stroking at its furred tuft. They caught their lip in their teeth. “He just startled me. I’ve never had someone approach after I’ve attacked someone, and he was so mad. Jack wasn’t mad when I ate his pastor.”

“Yes,” said Aether, “but this was different.”

“How?” Locust asked, dropping their tail. “I don’t understand humans. Jack summoned me, and the only demand he had was to protect him from anyone who meant to hurt him. So I did. And then Copia summoned me, so I did the same thing, but this time it was wrong, and I don’t know why.”

Aether looked at Locust, who had torn out throats and spilled blood across the Midwest and now sat next to him, scared and lost, on a dirty mattress in an echoing building in the middle of winter. And looking at their confused face, he realized.

“The bishop was going to hurt Copia?”

“Not—not then,” said Locust, and now their tail lashed. “But he wanted to. I knew. I could read it.” They wiped at their eyes, though they were dry. “Frater Imperator has enemies. I know they’re around, now that I’m his ghoul. I can sense them, although not here, not after I killed that one, but they’re there and I’m not allowed to protect him and I don’t—”

“Easy, Locust,” he said, and put a hand on Locust’s arm to interrupt the flow of panicked words.

Locust flinched, and he almost dropped his hand. But they didn’t pull away, and he kept his hand in place.

He felt the soft, dark gray skin of a ghoul. They were really fairly stocky and solid, but under his hand they felt small somehow, and he curved his hand around their arm.

“I’m not mad,” he said. “In fact, once I explain, I don’t think anyone will be mad.”

“You don’t?” Locust asked, uncertainly now. “They were mad, though.”

“They don’t live in your head,” he said. “They didn’t know what you knew. Humans need context and explanations. Actually, so did I.” He petted over Locust’s arm. “But you did good, Locust.”

“I did?” they said.

Aether couldn’t help but smile at that. “Yeah. Yeah, you did. You’re a good ghoul.”

Their eyes went wide at that, and Aether was done for.

Nobody had meant to neglect this ghoul. They had been summoned in an emergency, and no one had quite known what to do with them after. Aether still didn’t know what to do, not exactly, but he saw a sweet hope in their eyes and knew he’d have to figure out just how to tame them enough to keep them in this world. He had to. And that would mean getting Copia on board.

But first, it meant getting Locust on board.

“When I go back,” he said, “I’m going to explain to them what happened. Copia especially. But first…” He considered for a moment, and ran his hand up and down Locust’s arm. He watched as goosebumps raised up on their skin under his touch. “You haven’t had any of the things a ghoul is supposed to have.”

Locust shrugged.

“Ghouls shouldn’t be alone,” he pressed. “We come to Earth to try things, to experience things, and to be together, with humans and ghouls. You’ve been alone. Why? Didn’t you like Primo’s ghouls?”

“They were fine,” Locust said. “They just…” They leaned back against the metal wall. “They didn’t need me.”

Aether studied them for a long moment. “But you were okay with Copia summoning you?”

“He needed me,” Locust said. “Or—I thought he did.”

“He does,” said Aether quietly. “His position as Frater is a difficult one and he does have enemies. He could use someone who could sense those, but there’s more than that.”

And then he reached up to brush back a lock of their short hair. It was yellow-gray but lighter than their skin, and soft as the touch of moth’s wings. The fur on their chest and tail said earth ghoul, but the feathery texture of their hair and those papery wings said air.

“And,” he said, “I need you.”

“Why?” Locust asked, eyes narrowing.

“You’re a very suspicious ghoul,” he said. “Two reasons. One, I love Copia, and you can keep him safe. I’d need anyone who could do that. And second…” He looked at them for a long moment. “I like to take care of other ghouls. But all the ones I used to look after are sort of their own pack. I stayed with Copia when he transferred their ownership to his brother, and they’re happy where they are. I spend time with them, but it’s not the same.”

He meant it, about his own desires, but he was also talking out of his ass, if he was honest. He spent plenty of time looking after Copia, and when he was at the Ministry he could wander into the ghoul den whenever he wanted for cuddles and caretaking until he had his fill. Truly, he was content with his current arrangement, or had been.

But Locust needed to be needed.

And Aether needed this to work.

“I see,” said Locust, frowning still, considering. “What…what does it look like? To take care of a ghoul?”

Aether smiled. “For one thing,” he said, “making sure they’re enjoying their time on Earth. Have you been enjoying yours? You’ve been alone, you haven’t—seen movies or played music or had pizza.”

“I had pizza once,” said Locust. And to his surprise, Locust leaned into instinct and over onto his arm. They were so soft and warm against the chill of the winter. “I accidentally scared a delivery guy and he dropped it, so I ate it. I didn’t hurt him, I promise.”

Aether burst out laughing, and then slid his arm around them to keep them from pulling away in their surprise. “Good. Did you like it?”

“I did,” Locust said. “I like…I like things on this plane of existence. The wind, the cold, the way things feel. I like how tree bark tastes. I didn’t like how dogs tasted.”

“You ate dogs?”

“They were attacking the cows,” Locust said. “Everyone was upset, so I stopped it. And I like listening to people talking and fucking and laughing and stuff. It’s nice.” They looked at him sideways. “You do all those things. I heard you and Frater fucking the other night.”

“Good,” he said, not embarrassed or offended. Ghouls did that. “It was fun and I’m really good at it.” And that decided him. “It’s even more fun to do than to listen in.”

“I can imagine,” Locust said.

“Want to find out how much fun?” he asked then.

“You would—with me?” they asked.

“At least a little,” he said, and ran his hand gently over their arm. “Because you know, you’ve been a very good ghoul, and do you know what good ghouls get?”

“What?”

“Rewarded,” he said, and pulled them closer.

Chapter Text

Locust had explored between their legs, alone here in the grain bin where they lived, on this very same mattress. Sometimes they’d achieved climax. Sometimes they got bored and fell asleep. 

It had never once been like this.

Aether held them, his broad chest to their back and wings, his legs up on either side of their hips, his strong arms around them. They had never minded the cold, but he was so warm, so solid in a way they had never imagined.

And his hand was moving. Down over the fluff at their flat chest, the same dust-gray color as their hair, and over their belly, until it slid between their thighs. They had to part them to make space for his hand, bumping into his legs.

“Good ghoul,” he said, as the action made their clit even more exposed.

He slid his fingers on either side of it, rolling it between them, and they let out a sharp gasp at the sensation. So this was what bodies were for, they thought as he did it again, stroking. His mouth was against their hair and that felt good, too, in a completely different way, hot breath fanning over them. They closed their eyes, breathing hard, unable to process this and sight.

Except closing their eyes made all that touch even stronger. His arms and legs were everywhere, keeping them close to him, so close, and he kept going, kept touching and stroking. It was like he knew exactly where to touch, and exactly how, things that Locust hadn’t even fully unlocked.

And then he took his hand away and Locust whined.

He let out a laugh, and Locust both heard it and felt it, through his chest and into their very core. “I’m not done, promise,” he said, and then his lips pressed firmly against their scalp, a little kiss that made them shiver. He pulled his face away and brought his fingers to his mouth, and when he brought them back they were wet now, gliding even more easily from the wetness of his spit and the wetness from Locust’s body.

He carefully pulled up the hood of their clit, and tapped his wet fingers on the exposed skin, making Locust cry out and jerk back against his chest so hard it hurt.

“Too much?” he asked.

“N—y—I don’t know,” they managed.

He let out another laugh, this one dark and wicked, and then he brought his fingers to either side of it again.

A smell like ozone flowed from him, a scent that Locust knew instinctively was quintessence. And that was their only warning before it crackled between his fingers, straight through their clit.

And they came with a scream, trying to arch their back, but instead they just strained against his big arms, trapped in his warmth and pleasure.

When it was over they sagged back against him. Their thighs were wet, and so was his hand, and he brought it up to their lips. They tentatively extended their tongue to his fingers, and tasted the earthy tang of their own cunt with the tip of it. Their eyes went wide, and they started to lick his fingers properly, but he pulled it away.

“If you’re not going to share,” he said, “then I’ll need more of this.” He reached down and slid those two fingers into them.

Locust gasped and jerked back against his chest. His hands were big, fingers stretching them so full. And his fingertips found something inside of them that made them gasp and try to buck their hips. He shifted his hand, thrusting his fingers shallowly, stroking that place inside of Locust, and his palm rubbed over their clit. They closed their eyes again. Their breaths grew rougher, in time with the rhythm he was building, and for a moment that was all they knew. Their heartbeat, the vibrations of their skin, all of it was suddenly in tune to this, building and building. Pleasure spread over them slowly, like the wings of a butterfly fresh out of a cocoon, about to take flight—

And then he drew his hand out, leaving them bereft. They tried to ask why, but all that came out was a thin whine and another buck of their hips.

“Greedy thing,” he said, and they could hear a laugh coloring his voice and growled in response. He didn’t seem bothered, just kissed the back of their head and let them go.

They turned to face him, just in time to see him stick his fingers in his mouth again. His eyes closed for a moment and he let out a low sound that made them shudder.

And then they opened again, brilliantly purple in his gray face. “You were a very good ghoul,” he said, again, and Locust felt their dismay fade a little. “And I gave you a reward. You liked it?”

“Y-yes,” they said, wondering if this was a trick question.

“I did, too,” said Aether with a smile. “So that’s the solution. You come with us, you keep being a good ghoul, and I’ll reward you. Copia, too, if you want him to.”

Locust squirmed a little. They still felt hot everywhere, and their cunt felt achingly empty. “Will he fill me up like that?” they asked.

“Not exactly the same,” Aether said. “Everyone fucks differently. It’s part of the beauty of life on Earth. But he’d take care of you.”

And then Aether reached up and cupped Locust’s cheek with the hand he hadn’t just been using.

“But you’d have to stay with us,” Aether said. “We aren’t going to wade through snow to find you every time we want to see you. And you’d have to behave. Only attack with permission, even if you sense harm to Copia. Do your best to stay glamoured in front of other humans. I know you were summoned without any real restrictions, but you need some to stay on Earth, to be unbanished—to keep feeling like that.”

“And—and if I do that, then you’ll keep giving me orgasms?” Locust asked, focused on the one thing.

Aether grinned. “Yeah,” he said. “Sound fair?”

Locust hesitated. But now without his fingers in them, now with a little time passed, they found themself thinking again. “What if—what if Copia doesn’t want me now?”

“I’ll explain to him,” Aether promised. “He’ll listen to me. It might take time, but once he does, I’ll come get you. It’ll be okay, Locust. I don’t know what it’s going to look like, but it’ll be okay.”

Locust looked up at this big, sturdy ghoul. They almost asked if he promised, but they weren’t sure they wanted an answer. Slowly, uncertainly, they nodded, and Aether’s smile broadened again.

“Good ghoul,” he said.

And then he leaned forward and kissed their forehead.

His beard brushed against their skin, and his lips were soft and tender. It didn’t build pleasure like his other touch had, but somehow it was almost as good, and Locust felt something else unwind within them, something that had nothing to do with sex, something that made them far more nervous.

When he pulled away, he smiled again, softly. “I’ll be back,” he promised. “I’ll be back and you’ll come with me and it’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

Locust swallowed hard and nodded. “If you say so,” they said.

“I do,” he said. And he straightened up. “Stay here. Please. It’ll be easier to find you.”

“I will,” Locust said.

Because their body wanted more pleasure, it was true. But the rest of Locust just wanted to hear that they were a good ghoul again. And they had a feeling that meant being a good ghoul.

If they could figure out how.

Chapter Text

Copia paced the interior of the church.

Primo’s ghouls had been very efficient in cleaning up both the body of the bishop and the shattered glass. The broken window was covered now with a board that was not beautiful, but it would have to be dealt with later. 

Everyone else had gone away. Perpetua had taken Jack in to feed him cake and reassurance, and for a moment Copia was almost jealous. It wasn’t that he wanted Jack himself, but the idea of holding someone who needed him, someone who needed him personally, was…appealing. Of course, Aether needed him, but not in the same way; Aether was a big, contented ghoul, sure of himself in a way Copia had never been. They couldn’t even play at it—Aether was far more dominant, and on occasion when he let Copia try to take control, there was a certain indulgent You look so cute when you think you’re in charge that was attractive as hell but didn’t exactly make Copia feel like he was taking the lead.

It was funny. He was in charge of the whole Ministry, but in his personal life…

Well. It didn’t matter. Perpetua wasn’t reassuring Jack as part of some kinky dynamic; he was reassuring Jack because Jack thought he was directly responsible for the death of an innocent bishop, and maybe he was. So Perpetua was off taking care of him, and Eden and Primo had gone back to the house to look into lunch and probably talk shit about the rest of them, and Bishop Forge did nothing because Bishop Forge was fucking dead.

And Copia knew it wasn’t Jack’s fault, not really. He’d summoned the ghoul, yes, but that had been an emergency. It was Copia who had agreed to try to take on a feral creature he couldn’t contain.

The door opened, and Copia looked up, then let out a sigh. “You’re back,” he said.

“I said I would be,” said Aether, walking in.

He had his human glamour again, which made sense since he’d had to walk through town and risked being seen, even if there weren’t many people in Dovetail. Copia thought he looked like a lion in his human form, big and fluffy-haired and moving with a confidence Copia could never even pretend to have but that he found deeply magnetic. But he still liked him better when he was a ghoul. Of course Copia could never look at his true form, but he could get closer to it. Closer to the truth of what Aether was.

“So?” Copia said. “Where’s the ghoul?”

“Locust is waiting,” said Aether, and he nodded to one of the pews. “Come. Sit.”

Copia sighed and came to sit with him in the center of the church. It was a pretty building, from the turn of the last century, older than the Ministry Headquarters out west. Even the board over the broken stained glass couldn’t mar the beauty of it entirely, with its carved pews and the statues of Lucifer and Baphomet.

“What’s Locust waiting for?” Copia asked, sitting with Aether.

“For you to come around,” Aether said. “I told them you would. It’s not their fault, you know, that they’re feral. They need guidance. Well, and orgasms now.”

“You didn’t,” Copia said. He wasn’t upset at Aether fucking someone else—they had an agreement involving Aether, ghouls, and sex—but this ghoul? Now?

“Of course I did.” His expression softened. “And I told them they were a good ghoul and you should have seen them. They looked like I’d just handed them the moon. That’s all they want, you know. If you rewarded them, if you told them they were a good ghoul, they’d probably do anything you wanted.”

“Yeah,” Copia said, and felt his jaw set. “Problem with that is they aren’t a good fucking ghoul. They just fucking killed Bishop Forge without provocation, and they’d have eaten him if we hadn’t stopped them.”

Aether shook his head. “Not without provocation. That’s why we need them, Copia.”

Copia frowned at him.

Aether looked down at the back of the pew and took out the hymnal, leafing through it. The thin pages whispered against each other like insect wings. “I told you once that I would protect you if I had to,” he said. “Didn’t I? I couldn’t protect Terzo, but I would protect you. Even if it meant going back to the Pit. Even if it meant something worse. Ghouls can die, although it’s difficult. I would. I would die for you.”

Copia felt a shiver over his arms and down his back, one that had nothing to do with the drafty old church and the snow outside. “Aether, what are you talking about?”

“I can’t protect you, not easily,” Aether said. “The terms of my summoning limit me. I could probably attack clergy but it would cost me.” He closed the hymnal and looked up at him. “Bishop Forge was not innocent.”

Copia’s frown deepened. “Look, he was a little annoying, but that’s no call to kill him. I mean, Primo might kill out of annoyance, but…”

“Locust was summoned with only one purpose—one rule,” said Aether. “Don’t you see? They were summoned to protect Jack at any cost, to attack anyone who meant Jack harm, even if Jack didn’t know. And then they were transferred to you. They can sense when someone wants to hurt you, and they reacted. That’s what they did. That’s all they did.”

Copia’s gaze drifted to the front of the church, where Forge’s body had lain. There was no hint of it now, not even a smear of blood, but the shape of his body was seared in his memory. “He was…”

“He wanted you dead,” Aether said, and there was a grim note to it that Copia had never heard before. “I don’t know why. But Locust said he wasn’t alone. Locust said they can sense others, a distance from here, who want you hurt or worse.”

“Th-they were lying,” Copia said.

Aether fixed him with his gaze. “I’m a quintessence ghoul. I can’t read everyone’s mind—if I could, we probably wouldn’t have this problem. But I can taste the difference between a truth and a lie, especially from another ghoul. We aren’t quite as confusing as humans in that regard.”

“Who wants me dead?” Copia asked. “I haven’t offended anyone. Have I?”

“I don’t know,” Aether said. “That’s why we need Locust. And,” he said, voice softening, “Locust needs you.”

Copia flinched at that. “No one needs me,” he said, reflexively.

Aether looked at him gravely, and Copia opened his mouth to apologize. “I need you,” Aether said before he could. “And now so does Locust. The rest of the world can get fucked, but we need you and you had better not forget it. So. Can I tell Locust they can come back?”

Copia hesitated, then sighed. “Let me explain to the others, but…but yeah.” He rubbed his forehead. “Yeah. I guess so. You’re really sure about this?”

“Very sure,” Aether said. “Copia, I told you. I’d do anything to protect you. Well, Locust can do anything to protect you. So if what I can do is give them orgasms and forehead kisses until they agree to it, I will.”

Copia stared at him for a moment. “You’re a lot more manipulative than anyone gives you credit for.”

Aether shrugged. “It doesn’t often come up.” He got up. “I’ll go tell them. And Copia?”

“What?”

He leaned forward then and kissed him, a slow, sweet kiss. Copia melted into it, as he always did, because it was impossible not to melt into a kiss from Aether.

And when he pulled away, Aether smiled. “Go have lunch,” he said.

Copia sighed. “I will,” he said. “Come back soon.”

“I will. We will.” He stood up.

Copia watched him go. The big, solid, reassuring shape of him, the shoulders that could carry the world but that he reserved for Copia. And now, maybe, Locust.

He wasn’t jealous. Aether was a big ghoul, after all, and his big body was fueled by an equally big heart. There was a lot of room on those shoulders.

But he was nervous. Not for Aether’s sake, but because of himself. Because now someone might actually need to depend on him, and Copia wasn’t sure he was up to the task.