Chapter Text
Different fates awaited the angels cast out in the Fall, eons ago. The more powerful or resentful remained intact as they were warped and corrupted, becoming true demons – but the majority were broken, their souls smashed to pieces when they hit the bottom. Those fragments became stitched together into the hordes of ghouls, the lesser demons. Ghouls were easier to summon and adapted well to different tasks, but they were on the weaker end of the spectrum, paling in comparison to their unbroken brethren.
So standing against the divine equivalent of a greater demon, they were completely outmatched, and they knew it.
The fear and hatred radiating off the three ghouls was palpable, and Copia couldn't help but be a little bit proud that they weren't bolting, even as the angel walked closer. At the same time, he knew it was only for his sake that they stood their ground: the glowing snare of magic round his ankle had him rooted to the spot, so they couldn't flee without leaving him behind. He knew they wouldn't do that, even if he asked them to.
He had only wanted a quick talk, to check in before he made his post-tour report to Sister Imperator on the progress of the Ghost Project. Dewdrop, Rain, and Aether were his front line, getting about as close to the crowds as he did during each ritual, so he had wanted to ask if they had any additional input. Just a short walk; just a short talk. None of them had expected the thing now staring them down, sword in hand.
There was no mistaking the creature for a common angel: it stood at least seven or eight feet tall, radiating light that made Copia's skin crawl – he could only imagine how it felt to the ghouls. Its androgynous face was beautiful, but something about it was… wrong, unearthly. Those eyes burned with a cold light, devoid of the mercy its kind loved to preach so much, and it moved as if the blade it carried was an extension of itself, rather than a simple tool. This was a warrior, a weapon made flesh.
The angel frowned ever-so-slightly at the bristling ghouls crouched between it and Copia. "Only three… It will do." It seemed to be speaking to itself rather than them, but before anyone could respond, it called out in a louder voice that made the ghouls flinch. "Imps, surrender your wretched lives willingly, and you shall perish without pain."
The ghouls only bared their fangs at it and growled, but Copia swore he could see something akin to satisfaction in the angel's eyes. Did it want them to fight back?
There was no time for confusion, as the angel raised its sword and the ghouls sprang forward in hopes of catching it off-guard. It batted them away with a single beat of its wings, but the ghouls managed to keep their footing as they were sent skidding back, darting to the sides before they lunged again, rushing at it from different angles this time. But before their outstretched claws could make contact, the light emanating from the angel flashed and became blinding for a moment, and when the burst cleared enough to see again, Rain and Dewdrop were both staggering and rubbing at their eyes.
The angel had moved impossibly fast, now standing with its empty hand clamped around Aether's wrist as he struggled uselessly to wrench his arm free. It stared at the scars on his palm, still healing from where he had stopped a bolt of holy lightning a few weeks earlier. "So you are why they failed."
The ghoul froze. "You mean–AH!" Whatever he had been trying to say was cut off as something angry flickered on the angel's impassive face and its grip tightened hard. The ghoul's knees buckled, but the angel kept him from collapsing with the tightening iron grasp on his wrist.
Before it could completely shatter bone, Dewdrop lunged at the angel's arm like a rabid animal, sinking claws and teeth into its skin until it had to release Aether to shake him off. Only the tiniest pinpricks of blood fell to stain its robe, and it effortlessly tossed Rain aside when he tried to go for its legs while it was distracted – they were getting nowhere.
Copia finally gave up on trying to free himself from the magic binding his ankle, only able to watch as the ghouls started using the elements bound to them in a last-ditch effort to do any damage at all.
Please.
It was strange, he could feel his own fear dissipating each time the angel swept aside fire and water with its wings, every time it struck with that piercing light and sent the ghouls crashing to the ground with cries of pain, as the might of divinity burned them both inside and out.
Old One, Lord of Hell, please.
As his heartbeat pounded in his ears, everything but the scene playing out before him seemed to fade away.
If all my service has earned me anything, I only need this.
He wasn't afraid, wasn't even really angry anymore… all he felt was hatred. He didn't want to just stop the angel, or send it running. He wanted it to suffer. He didn't care if he escaped or not, but Satan below, he wanted to see that impossibly beautiful face twist in agony, to ruin those perfect wings.
More than anything else in the world, he wanted to hurt it.
And hurt it we shall, my dear.
The angel's blade cut through flames to catch Dewdrop across the chest, the wound relatively shallow but burning with holy power that made him scream. It tried to swing again as he collapsed, but Aether threw himself onto its arm with a feral snarl and held it with all his strength, drawing another flicker of annoyance to its face. Annoyance that deepened to anger as a coil of water wrapped around its face to block it from breathing, those burning eyes turning to Rain in the same instant its empty hand shot out and caught him by the hair – but trying to wrench its sword arm free to strike only caused Aether to sink his teeth into its wrist. Instead, the angel hurled Rain to the ground with enough force to break his control, causing the water to splash harmlessly onto its collarbone.
Dewdrop staggered back to his feet, seething at the sight of Rain bleeding from the forehead and struggling to move, but the angel seemed to have run out of patience. The holy light surrounding it brightened and burned, which finally forced Aether to let go of its arm with a pained snarl, and it took the opportunity to crack him in the head with the pommel of its sword, dropping him to the ground. The light blazed even stronger, all at once, and it hit the ghouls like an explosion that sent them all tumbling back to collapse in a bloodied and beaten heap by Copia's feet.
Panting, they struggled to sit up, to do something more to fight back, but none of the three had any strength left to back up their willpower. All they could do was watch the blinding light of death step slowly towards them.
"Such devotion is noble, however misplaced," the angel said calmly. "So you shall all be destroyed together with your master, and quickly. I shall not prolong your suffering further."
Fangs were bared in defiance, but the ghouls couldn't find their voices as instinctive, primal fear took hold and made them tremble. Their tails all twined together, one last attempt at comfort, and Rain looked back to pull Copia to them in apology for failing him… but the ghoul froze.
"...Papa?"
The frightened question drew Aether and Dewdrop's attention, and even the angel hesitated as its gaze fell on Copia.
Something dark, something oppressive was suddenly in the air. He hadn't been wearing his paint before, but there it was, perfectly in place over a relaxed expression. When he raised his eyes, they were completely black, save the single white iris that now seemed to flicker and glow as it slid between the faces staring back at him in silence.
"Well, I think this has gone on long enough, hm?" Copia's voice was still there, but there was something else underneath, someone else that drew a shuddering gasp from the ghouls.
Within their Papa's voice, they could hear Him.
Papa got to his feet, effortlessly snapping the magic snare on his ankle with a gentle shake of his leg, and regarded the ghouls with Copia's fondness. "You did a good job. Now let me handle the rest."
As he spoke, the pain melted out of their bodies, making them shiver at the sensation of being healed so quickly, but they were still too stunned to do more than nod in understanding and gratitude.
That seemed to be a good enough response, and Papa's gaze finally moved to the angel, standing with its blade held at the ready. "You're a long way from home, little bird," he stepped forward as his face split in a wicked grin. "I wonder, does He know you're here?"
The angel flinched, and Papa gave an exaggerated gasp. "He doesn't, does He? You came all on your own. Could it be… Are you out for revenge? For those little flies my ghouls crushed, perhaps?"
That seemed to touch a nerve, as the angel's expression turned angry again and it leapt forward, swinging the sword at Papa's neck.
He didn't have to move, the blade simply stopped. The angel looked confused, pushing harder, but the sword remained frozen roughly half a foot from Papa as he glanced at it, disinterested. He casually reached up and pinched his thumb and pointer finger to the flats of the blade, and it immediately started to change. Corrupting from the point of contact outwards, the gleaming metal turned black and jagged as dark influence spread along the blade, down towards the handle. The angel seemed conflicted for a moment, but released the sword and leapt back before the demonic power could touch its hands, letting the blade drop to the ground as its transformation finished.
Shock was quickly turning to horror in the angel's expression, and Papa purred in approval. "That's a lovely face you're making, little bird. Let me see more."
He started walking closer again, that pale iris seeming to stare into the angel, making it shudder. It was really sinking in now, just what it was facing, but it was either too stunned or too proud to flee – if Papa would even let it escape. "Human, you… you have invited evil here. I cannot allow this to continue!" Trying to regain its composure, the angel flared up again with that blazing light… only for it to flicker and go out like a candle in a storm.
Now there was fear on its face, and its wings flexed as though instinct was trying to make it fly away, to run from the predator that was now right in front of it.
"Oh? You want to leave? But didn't you want to wreak vengeance for… What were they to you? Friends? Kin? Or… did you love one of them, perhaps?"
The angel's shadow darkened beneath it as it struggled to find words, but whatever it wanted to say died as large, clawed hands emerged from that darkness and seized its legs.
"You didn't think I would let you get away, did you?" Papa's voice quickly went from silky to an angry growl. "After you came waltzing down here, kicked the shit out of my ghouls, and tried to kill us?!" The infernal hands dragged the angel to its knees, so Papa could look it in the eye as he reached over its shoulders and grabbed one of its wings in each hand. "No, you're never going home again."
Even the ghouls winced at the sickening snapping and crunching beneath Papa's hands, as more claws emerged from the shadows to pin the angel in place. Now all it could do was scream. It was powerless as skin tore and blood flowed to stain radiant white feathers. Papa stopped short of actually tearing the wings off, releasing them to hang at an unnatural angle as he regained his composure, but the bones were clearly shattered to an irreparable degree.
The angel seemed to be struggling to stay conscious. "K…kill me," it gasped, but Papa only smiled again.
"Oh, I have no intention of killing you, little bird. That would be such a waste." He reached out and grabbed its chin in one gloved hand as the evil pressure in the air became even stronger. "You'll make a lovely demon."
The angel went white as a sheet, but before it could even cry out, another clawed hand rose from the shadows to cover its mouth. Still more claws reached up and started dragging the angel down into the darkness, slow enough for Papa and the ghouls to watch its panic and desperation as it gradually disappeared into the shadows. Faint whispers and laughter could be heard from the darkness, and then it was gone, leaving no trace behind.
"Well now," Papa clapped his hands together and spun on his heel to face the ghouls, a gesture so very like Copia. "You're alright to head back, yes?"
The ghouls glanced at each other for a moment, then nodded.
"Good. In that case… Catch!"
In an instant, all the demonic power evaporated, Copia's eyes and face returned to normal, and his body went completely limp as the trio of ghouls scrambled forward to catch him before he hit the ground. Terrified, shaking hands searched for a pulse, and all three released a heavy sigh of relief when they found it – as far as they could tell, Copia was physically alright, just unconscious. But that didn't rule out the possibility of spiritual damage.
"Aeth, can… can you check him?" Rain managed to force his voice to work, even if it was barely more than a rasp.
Not even trying to speak, Aether nodded as he turned his gaze down on Copia and his eyes slid out of focus, shifting to Look at the human.
Quintessence was a strange element, rooted in the unseen. It allowed demons bound to it to shift their senses, letting them see and interact with not only souls, but the energy of every living thing – and even more than that for those powerful enough. Though it could be exhausting, they could use this power to heal or hurt in equal measure, and it made the difficulty of binding quintessence worthwhile for the Clergy. Even if it had been useless against the angel – attempting to damage a divine soul as powerful as that was like trying to claw through diamond – it was invaluable now.
Reaching for the soft pulse of Copia's soul, Aether couldn't help but marvel at it as he let his own consciousness circle around. Compared to the patchwork of ruined divinity that made up ghouls, human souls were so seamless, even with the scars they all carried. But he had a purpose here; no time for admiration. He quickly found the usual thin lines of stress zigzagging under the surface, and the dark swirls of power that had been present ever since Copia ascended to Papa, all behaving normally. He gently nudged the soul with his own here and there, making sure he didn't miss anything, but as seconds passed he felt a slow wave of relief. Nothing but the usual marks and scars he knew nearly by heart.
Aether sighed tiredly as he slipped back into the physical, where both Dewdrop and Rain were watching him with wide, anxious eyes. "I didn't See anything. He's… he's okay."
Dew and Rain both sagged bonelessly in relief, as Rain reached down to brush a strand of hair out of Copia's face.
They stayed kneeling there for a minute, each still struggling to process what had happened. Now that they were actually paying attention to themselves, they found that while they were a mess, they were unhurt – no wounds remained under the smears of dirt and drying blood. Only the sword was left as physical proof the angel had ever been there.
Dewdrop was the first to find his voice again. "...What the fuck."
"That… that just happened, right?" Rain breathed, running a hand through his hair anxiously. "That actually happened?"
"That was… He was…" Dewdrop couldn't finish the sentence, absently dragging his fingers along the tear in his shirt where the angel's blade had cut him, now little more than a bloodstain and a faint scar.
Meeting eyes for a moment was enough to confirm they were all still reeling from the effects of the presence that had surrounded them: awestruck, fearful, and honestly, a little turned on. That sort of power wasn't something ghouls or humans experienced every day, or even in a lifetime for most, and now that it had passed, they were sort of in a daze.
"He… said we should head back," Rain reminded them, finally trying to pull himself up without shaking too much.
Dewdrop nodded and followed suit, before looking back down with a frown. "Aeth?"
Aether flinched as he moved his hand from where it had been resting over their Papa's heartbeat, shifting Copia to lift him more easily. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm… good. Should we uh… call someone?"
"Um, yeah, I can do it," Rain mumbled as he fished for his phone.
Dewdrop moved to offer whatever support his meager weight could provide as Aether tried to work out the best way to carry Copia's unconscious body, and Rain managed to get his hands to stop trembling long enough to hit Swiss' contact on his phone.
"Hey, what's up?" Swiss sounded relaxed when he answered after a few rings, and Rain almost felt bad that he was about to drop a bombshell on the multi-ghoul.
"Well, uh… So Papa just damned an archangel."
Things became a whirlwind of activity as soon as they trudged their way back to the Ministry. They were met at the door by not only the rest of the band ghouls, but also Omega and several medical staff, who pried Copia from them with only a little resistance. The three were immediately bombarded with questions and concern, to the point where it all blended together in a storm of headache-inducing noise that they could only growl at. They knew it wasn't malicious, that the others were just terrified by the rough outline of events Rain had given Swiss over the phone, but they didn't want to talk. Not when the faded adrenaline was mixing with the odd feelings from being in the presence of their master and their Master merged together; it was too hard to form sentences.
"Alright, enough," Omega intervened as it looked like Dewdrop was ready to bite the next person to ask if he was okay. "You three, shower. You're a mess, and Sister Imperator wants to see you when she gets back. The rest of you, follow me if you want to make yourselves useful."
That seemed to do the trick, as the rest of the ghouls simply whined faintly and glanced back at the trio, before they scurried to keep up with Omega and the medics. Omega cast one last sympathetic smile at them over his shoulder, and Aether managed to give a half-hearted wave in response as the three started shuffling off down another hallway.
It wasn't until they had all filed into Rain's bathroom that the thought occurred to the bassist: couldn't they each just use their own showers? But the idea of splitting up sent an uncomfortable pang through his chest, so he ignored the voice of common sense that usually held so much sway over him. The band ghouls were lucky enough to have fairly large showers anyway, and with Dew being the tiny little gremlin that he was, they'd fit just fine. If the other two had any thoughts about it, they didn't voice them either.
None of them said a word as they stripped down and tossed their dirty, torn, and bloody clothes into a corner, but their tails were all twitching as the memory of that overwhelming power and glory buzzed through them like a drug. The air suddenly felt much too cold against bare skin, and Rain suppressed a shiver as he leaned over to turn on the water, moving his hand into the spray to gauge the temperature. Suddenly, Dewdrop was pressed against his back, as if on cue.
"Give it a sec," Rain muttered, resisting the urge to lean back into him. "Unless you wanna jump in under fucking ice water."
Dew snorted softly, but didn't move, looping his arms around Rain's waist until he had to let go to avoid tripping them both as they stepped under the warming water. As Dewdrop turned his attention to Aether, Rain's eyes followed him, and he couldn't help but shiver again despite the heat of the shower.
Back in that fight, they had all silently accepted that they were going to die. Their only hopes had been that they could give the angel some kind of injury to remember them by, or that somehow, if they bought enough time, Copia could escape. As soon as they'd seen what they were up against, they hadn't expected to make it out alive. They would die, and their fragmented souls would return to hell, to be rearranged into new ghouls.
But here they were. Some aspect of Lucifer Himself had intervened, and they survived. It didn't feel possible. Rain stepped forward and pressed himself between Aether and Dewdrop, but even their combined body heat couldn't make it all truly sink in, that they were here. He needed to prove it to himself somehow, and there was one surefire way for any ghoul to do that.
"Rain? What's the ma–" Dewdrop's question was cut off as Rain suddenly turned and shoved him back against the wall, pressing their bodies together and forcing his tongue into the smaller ghoul's mouth. Dew's noise of surprise quickly turned into a soft, muffled groan, as Rain's tail reached out and wrapped around Aether's leg to keep him from going anywhere.
"We were gonna die," Rain panted as he broke away from Dewdrop's mouth. "We were dead. We…" Instead of trying to find more words, he ducked back down and started pressing smaller kisses and nips along Dew's neck.
"Yeah… we really were, weren't we," Dewdrop muttered, running his fingers through Rain's wet hair as he tilted his head to offer the bassist more of his throat.
Watching as Dewdrop rested his hands on Rain's hips, Aether allowed the tail round his leg to coax him closer. They were all rattled, even if Rain was the only one to admit it, and every touch was a grounding reminder that things were going to be okay. It was a sweet gesture, in a horny sort of way. He reached down to gently scratch at the base of Rain's tail, making the bassist gasp and pull away from the line of tiny marks he'd been trailing along Dew's neck, which in turn made Dewdrop huff quietly in annoyance at the loss of attention. Aether couldn't help but snicker.
Rain let his hands start sliding down Dew's torso, but when his fingers brushed over the brand new scar on the smaller ghoul's chest, he paused as his heart lurched unpleasantly.
"It doesn't hurt," Dewdrop followed Rain's eyes to the scar. "And hey, I can tell people I got it from fighting an archangel. That's badass."
"Just leave out the part where we got our asses handed to us," Rain snorted.
"Hey, we drew blood," Aether huffed in mock-indignance, reaching his hand between them to scrub away some of the dried blood still clinging to Dewdrop's chest. "That's pretty good for three ghouls who weren't even summoned to fight in the first place."
Rain sighed as he let the exchange soothe his frayed nerves, which gave that wanting ache the chance to take back over. His hands moved downwards again as the other two continued to quip at each other, and a distinct glow of satisfaction filled him at the strangled gasps they gave as he yanked both their tails to get their attention.
"Rain, what…" Aether tried to question him, but Rain cut him off by baring his fangs.
"Don't pretend you haven't been feeling the same thing," Rain growled low, an unusual tone for him. "We were about to fucking die, then Papa…" He didn't need to say it. Just bringing up that aura of infernal darkness had all three of them shuddering, both terrified and blissful.
"Yeah, okay. You win," Aether huffed, leaning in to drag his fangs lightly across Rain's shoulder.
"So long as we're done by the time the hot water runs out," Dewdrop added.
When Copia woke from a dreamless sleep, it was to find himself tucked into his own bed, with Sister Imperator sitting in a chair beside him. The curtains were drawn with muted sunlight was still passing through them, though he couldn't tell if it was morning or afternoon. His sense of time was completely thrown off.
"Good morning, C." Sister smiled when she saw his eyes open and reached over to pat his arm.
He propped himself up on one elbow as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, but before he could open his mouth to answer, a cry came from the other side of the bed.
"Papa!"
Copia nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise, whipping his head around as fast as his groggy body would allow to see all eight of his ghouls kneeling in a cramped pile on the rug next to the bed, clearly resisting the urge to leap up onto the mattress and fling themselves on him. Sister must have told them to not overwhelm him, judging by how they were all practically vibrating.
His eyes found Aether, Dewdrop, and Rain in the middle of the mob. "You're alright?" He grimaced at the raspiness of his own voice, and Sister handed him a glass of water from the bedside table.
The three ghouls nodded in unison, and he couldn't see any of their usual lying tells on their faces… Wait, their faces? Copia suddenly registered that none of the ghouls were wearing their masks. For Sister to have allowed that, they must have been waiting there for a while. "What… what time is it?" He asked, setting the half-emptied glass back on the nightstand.
Sister hummed and glanced down at her watch. "Almost noon."
Copia blinked. He had been sleeping for over twelve hours, then. No wonder he felt so strangely refreshed, and no wonder the ghouls looked ready to cry from relief seeing him awake.
"Do you remember what happened?" Sister asked, gentle but firm as the hand on his arm squeezed softly.
Copia frowned for a moment, running through his most recent memories to check for any gaps. The angel… watching the ghouls get tossed around like rag dolls… making pleas to hell below… and that glorious power… Oh, how he had enjoyed it.
He paused to take a deep breath. "I do, yes."
"Well then, that saves us the trouble of explaining it to you. Do you feel strange at all? Any side effects?"
Copia stopped to properly take stock of his body, rolling his shoulders and wiggling his toes experimentally. "Actually I feel… pretty good. I must have needed the sleep. I wouldn't mind getting some food, though."
The ghouls all surged to get up at once, which only made them trip on each other in the cramped space they had piled into, all trying to ask what he wanted. They settled when Copia raised a hand to stop them. "What I mean is, I would like to get up and go to the food myself. It is lunchtime now, right?"
"You're sure you're alright to walk around?" Sister gave him a hard look, a warning against pushing himself if he wasn't feeling completely well.
"I'm sure," Copia nodded as he swung his legs off the side of the bed. "Now where are my shoes…?"
The ghouls scrambled over, producing his shoes from somewhere, and seeing him put them on and get to his feet without trouble seemed to be enough for Sister to let him go, especially with all the ghouls in tow. He could already tell they'd be sticking to him like glue for the rest of the day at least, and while it was a little annoying to be surrounded by worried demons fussing over him, he wasn't about to rob them of the chance to make themselves feel better. It was still all sinking in for him, but they'd had half a day to dwell on what happened, and he could only imagine how stressed they might be. Even Swiss, who almost never showed signs of anxiety, was fidgeting and sticking as close as possible.
It was difficult to act normal while being so focused on acting normal, but the awkwardness seemed to be reassuring to the ghouls anyway. They knew Copia well enough to recognize his usual tics, and his desire to soothe them was clear enough to prove he was still himself. As intoxicating as that… version of him had been, they were glad to have their regular Papa back.
The ghouls sidled up and nuzzled against Copia, each taking turns to press against his side. He laughed, and insisted they would trip him like that, but made no real attempt to stop them. He enjoyed the contact as much as they did.