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oh-austin · 2 years

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lift a finger (austin butler)

summary: in which you're heavily pregnant on the set of elvis and austin is set on making sure you the most comfortable you can be

ask / prompt : Hi! Can you please do one where the reader is pregnant and Austin is just super overprotective and cute! You choose if you want to include the birth and make it extremely fluffy. I just thought this would be amazing.

authors note / warnings: mentions of pregnancy and vomiting! I chose not to put the birth and labour in because I have another piece planned for my inez and austin series coming soon!! we love dad!austin here <3

────── ∘◦❀◦∘

Nearing the end of your pregnancy, you thought you had faced the worst of it and it would be smooth sailing from here on out. Boy were you wrong.

It was hard being pregnant and married to an actor, the busy schedules and flying from location to location was hard to keep up with, but when you’re married to the man portraying Elvis Presley.. that’s a whole other story.

Austin constantly doted on you whenever he was given the opportunity, but since you were often at home whilst he was shooting- you never really gave him the chance. But since you were met with braxton hicks last week, your doctor has recommended always being in someone’s company; Austin made sure he was that someone.

If Austin was filming a scene in the hot sun, you were sitting under a sunshade in his chair. If the call time was until eleven o’clock at night, you were asleep nearby. Austin made sure he always had you close and somewhere that he could see you.

Usually, you wouldn’t complain about getting to see Austin work. Watching him in his element was truly something special, but over the last few days you’ve just wanted to lounge around in bed and maybe finish the nursery. But here you were, sat next to a bail of hay nearing nine pm as Austin and Tom filmed the carnival scenes.

“How you feeling, mamas?” Austin looked just delicious walking over to you in his black lace shirt. Reminded you of how you got pregnant in the first place. “You’re glowing,” He complimented you.

“I don’t feel like I’m glowing,” You admitted to him. It was a warm summer night in Queensland, the humidity was not your friend. Being in the northern parts of Australia came with its perks, the heat wasn’t one of them- especially when you’re eight months pregnant. “Your child has been kicking me all day,”

“My child, huh?” Austin laughed, he almost seemed offended. “How’s your stomach? Still feelin’ sick?”

“I don’t know if I’m just nauseous because I’m pregnant or because they’re moving so much,” You rubbed your hand over your belly, “But I’m starting not to care,”

“Did you want to head back to the trailer? Have you got water?” Austin looked around, “I asked to get you water like three takes ago,” Austin’s voice became frustrated when he noticed you only had your bag next to you, no water in sight.

“Hey, it’s okay! These people are here for you, not me,” You reminded him, “I don’t need water, I’m fine,” You reached for Austin’s hand the best you could and placed it on top of your belly. Like your baby knew that their daddy was there, a strong kick made you jolt in your seat.

“Hey!” Austin laughed, “You should be asleep, little miss,”

“We don’t even know if it’s a girl yet,” It was true, your gender reveal idea was canned as soon as filming picked up. Everyone that you really wanted to attend was in a different country anyway, so there really wasn’t much of a point. That and Austin loved surprises, but he was set on your baby being a little girl.

“Oh, she’s a girl,” Austin crouched down, giving your belly a kiss, “Ain’t that right, Pres?” Austin had been adamant that you were going to name your child Presley. She was made on set baby, only fair we name him after the man who brought us here, he would argue. You weren’t letting that happen.

Austin Butler, the man who played Elvis Presley named his daughter after him? You could see the headlines now.

“We’re not calling her Presley!” You tilted his chin up to look at you.

Austin’s face broke out in a cheeky grin as he stood back up, “You said she’s a girl,” He sang. As Baz called him back over to reshoot the scene, Austin danced away from you joking whilst softly chanting ‘girl, girl, girl’. You shook your head at him and laughed.

Soon, Baz had Austin film some solo shots at the carnival, making use of the set whilst they were here. Whilst Austin was busy shooting, Tom soon made his way over to you.

“Y/N, how are you?” He asked. Tom might have been one of the most genuine men you had ever met. Soft spoken and kind, he had the ability to make anyone feel safe and calm.

“I’m tired,” You admitted to him, “Probably not as tired as you are in that costume,” Tom looked barely anything like himself, it was incredible really.

“You get used to it,” He chuckled, taking a seat down in the chair next to yours, “How much longer now?” He asked.

“Three weeks,” Your eyes widened, your heart would always race whenever you admitted it out loud. Soon, you and Austin would no longer be a family of two- forever three of you.

“Wow!” He marvelled, “Not long then. The first one is always an adventure,”

“She’s been a pretty big adventure,” You laughed, patting your belly, “I’ll tell you that,” You felt a kick back in response.

“So you’re having a girl! How exciting,” Tom sat forwards the best he could, he was always so attentive in any conversation. “My second child was a girl, I love being her dad- Austin’s gonna love it too,”

“Well, we don’t know if it’s a girl, Austin just thinks it is,” You told him. Tom watched as you looked across the carnival and over at Austin, he could see the admiration in your eyes for him. Reminded him of his wife and himself. “We don’t even have a name yet,”

“Well what names do you like?” He asked.

You thought to yourself for a second, “I like Harper for a girl, Austin doesn’t like it though,” You laughed, “He says it doesn’t ‘work’”

“You’ll know when you find the right name,” Tom admitted, “You’ll understand what he means when he says ‘it works’, I promise you that,” He laughed.

“Thank you, Tom” You turned back to look at him. After a few more minutes of conversation, Baz called Tom back for another couple scenes and you were sat alone once more. Well, not completely alone- and your baby was definitely trying to remind you of that.

The longer that you sat, the more sick you began to feel. Your stomach felt like it was cramping and turning at the same time. You tried some deep breaths to calm yourself down, but you couldn’t.

Austin’s manager noticed that you weren’t feeling well, once you had to rest your head in your hands.

“Y/N, you okay?” James leant down and spoke with a quiet voice, knowing you weren’t someone who wanted the attention on themselves.

You shook your head and swallowed the lump in your throat. “I think I’m gonna be sick,”

James, with a gentle hand on your back, lead you back to Austin’s trailer and helped you into the bathroom. It was hard for you to get close to the ground these days, but at that moment- your body knew you needed to.

You threw up your dinner, your throat burned as you dry heaved over the toilet. James was kind enough to hold your hair back for you. After a few minutes, you were rested against the wall of Austin’s bathroom, James passing you a bottle of water from the miniature fridge. You thanked him softly and apologised to him.

James asked if you would be okay as you begged him to go back to work, not needing people to watch over you. You were pregnant, not helpless. So James went back to set as you sat there taking slow sips of your water.

As Baz yelled cut and announced that they were now wrapped for the night, Austin was relieved that he could now spend the rest of his night with his wife and their baby. But as he looked over to where she was supposed to be, he found his chair empty.

He should’ve noticed you were gone. Austin mentally cursed himself, always his own biggest critic. He was too invested in filming the scene he could spare a single glance over at you, he was so stupid, he thought to himself.

“James!” Austin called over to his manager. James looked nervous as he rushed over to Austin.

“I’ve just come from the trailers,” James explained, Austin noticed his uneasy nature, “Y/N has been sick, so I’ve left her in there to rest,”

“Shit!” Austin sighed, already leaving the conversation once he heard you weren’t well, “Why don’t people come and tell me these things!” He shouted back at James, “She’s pregnant!”

Austin wasn’t an angry person, he wasn’t someone to express his feelings of frustration. Rather keep them to himself and write them down in his journal later. But when it came to you and his baby, it was a different story.

Austin was overcome with anger when he saw you sitting on the bathroom floor, struggling to get back up. “Mamas, what are you doin’ down there?” Even when upset, the Elvis drawl stayed with Austin. He rushed over to you and put an arm underneath you, ready to help you to your feet.

“I was sick, I’m just trying to get up and brush my teeth,” You explained to Austin. As soon as you were back on your feet, your ankles ached once more- oh they joys of motherhood.

“Sick? How bad?” Austin put his hand to your forehead, trying to feel for a fever, “You need me to get the doctor? She’s probably not left yet-“

“Austin,” You cupped his face with your hands, “I’m okay,”

He seemed to calm down visibly in your embrace. Austin leant into your soft touch. “Promise me you’re okay?”

“I promise! I’m just pregnant, pregnant people throw up” You talked slower to try and bring Austin back down to earth. You took a few breaths with Austin before letting go of his face, going to grab your toothbrush from the bench.

“No,” Austin beat you to it, “You’re not allowed to lift a finger for the rest of the night, you’re on my time now,”

You rolled your eyes at him, taking your toothbrush back. “Aren’t you on the clock?”

“As of five minutes ago? No, no I’m not,” Austin smirked, “So, brush your teeth and get in bed,”

“Did you want to brush them for me?” You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Shh,” Austin grabbed your face softly and kissed your head, “Get brushing,”

Although Austin was doting and protective over you, you knew that Tom was right- Austin was going to be a great dad to your little girl.

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #elvis 2022 #austin butler one shot #austin butler x reader #austin butler fluff #austin butler drabble #dad!austin #celeste writes fics

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murdrdocs · 1 year

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suggestive but not smut 16+ POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR SCREAM VI; GN!Reader

dating ethan landry and at first being attracted to that nerdy, almost innocent, persona. liking the fact that he loves to kiss you, and could do it any time of day. loving how attached he is to you because you’re his “first serious relationship.” liking how he is always down to talk about some sort of collection he has, or teach you how to play his special interest game. liking how he doesn’t really know what to do with his hands whenever you’re in his embrace (they twitch at your hip, and then your waist, and he settles for holding your hand even though his hand sweats sometimes). until he gets more confident, rubbing your back and sticking his hand in your back pocket. and the longer your relationship lasts, the further you two get, the more you notice something underneath the surface.

faraway looks where he’s staring at an object, but not at the object, and his gaze is so dark and almost vengeful. his jaw ticks and he cracks his neck and knuckles as if he’s plotting something and you don’t know what and it’s moments like these where mindy reminds you that you don’t truly know anyone but why don’t you feel threatened? that look in ethan’s eyes is more hot than it is anything else. and you can’t help but approach him about it, coming clean about how it makes you feel, and leading to you on your knees in front of him, your mouth wrapped around his cock, and holding yourself steady by digging your nails into his bare thighs.

#ethan landry x reader #was gonna make this a full fic #still might #ethansworld!#scream 6 #ethan landry smut #ethan landry #scream 6 smut #celeste writes scream

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celestriix · 8 months

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they did each others hairstyle <3

#celeste draws stuff #genshin impact #neuvillette #sangonomiya kokomi #kokomi #THEY ARE BESTIES!!!#losing my mind thinking about these two #i need someone to write a fic of them hanging out together please #kokomi would tell him about all the books shes been reading and he would listen to every detail of it enthusiastically #i have so many more little headcannons in my head about these two

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vincent-frankenstein · 4 months

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Tango wraps his legs around Jimmy’s waist as Jimmy kisses him senseless. He puts a hand on the table for support and knocks something else over, but Tango’s just a man and could care less about damages when Jimmy’s so warm and desperate against him.

oh darling, please be mine by thebetterwormy (@aliferous-ly)

I decided to illustrate my beloved wormy's fic for Xmas and in the process I ended up falling face first into the ranchers pit myself LMAO hello ranchers fandom

#MERRY XMAS OLLIE ILY AND UR WRITING ENDLESSLY #Everyone go read his fics . gourmet comfort food for ur brain #team rancher #double life #empires smp #celeste's portfolio

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josephslittledeputy · 3 months

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WIP... Oh shit, its actually Wednesday??

Tagged by @wrathfulrook @clicheantagonist @marivenah @cassietrn @the-silver-chronicles @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat and I thiiiiink that's it... sorry if you've tagged me & you're not on here, its been a hot minute since I've posted a wip wednesday & my memory is basically Swiss cheese

Tagging anyone who wants to self indulgently share a WIP! Feel free to tag me, I love to read new stuff :)

**Also terribly sorry in advance cause this turned out to be a bit longer than I thought it would be**

WIP 1: OG Verse - fun times with Celeste & Gabriel

He has to resist the urge to throttle her, lest he ruin the inside of his house filled with years of carefully handpicked items, ones he held a certain fondness for. "You ruined my life, Celeste. Or do you not recall?” "Your life?" She tilts her head in mock curiosity. "What life? The one where you were sent anywhere they told you to go, like some mongrel with a barely slackened leash?" “Excuse me?" “We can pretend otherwise. Keep up the illusion that your life was marvelous, picture perfect even. But we both know the truth, don't we?" She takes a step closer. “You were nothing but the High Council’s defanged pup. Cluelessly doing their bidding before I freed you. If anything, you should be thanking me." "Thanking you?" He clenches and unclenches his fist in an attempt to suppress his anger. "Hate me if you must, fight me even, but do it later. Right now we must get out of here. If they do not know where I am yet, they soon will. What do you think will happen once they realize one of their precious dhamphirs has been under their nose this whole time?"

Celeste truly is the nicest individual you'll ever meet :))

Including this little snippet from Gabriel's pov as well cause idk, I just really like it

Unbidden worry strikes him. He listens, waits, and when his ears pick up the sound of soft, even breathing he lets out a breath of his own. Celeste and the baby were still there, unharmed, perhaps even sleeping. It brings an odd sense of comfort, reminiscent of times long forgotten, times he didn’t want to remember. If he did, he’d have to remember what brought them to a halt in the first place and he had a job to do. Grief and old wounds had no place here, at least not at the moment. Kicking his boots off, he treks into the bathroom and gently closes the door behind him. It’s a simple design: Shower to his left, toilet to his right, and a sink with a mirror above it directly across from the door. Leaning against the sink, he ruffles his short, black hair that's shaved on the sides and traces his fingers over an old, faded scar. It runs down almost the whole length of his face, going over his left eye and stopping just shy of the corner of his mouth. Overlapping it is another, only this one goes across his face horizontally, over the bridge of his nose and from cheek to cheek. The only thing that remains of the old Gabriel are his blue eyes, once full of life and mischief, now faded and dull. Turning away from his visage, he heads toward the shower and turns it on, stripping down while he waits for the water to heat up. He doesn’t need a mirror to see the multitude of scars and tattoos that adorn his body. Aching for another drink—if only to dull his senses and lingering memories once more—he curbs the yearning and steps beneath the water.

WIP 2: They Watch From The Pews

Willa squirms, trying to dodge cold fingers that reach out to trace over the letters, caressing them with a sadistic fascination that makes her stomach curdle in disgust. Disgust quickly transforms into a desperation to get away once he finally reveals the knife kept hidden behind his back. “Usually I’d peel the sin off but… I think this will suit you much better, don't you?" Pressing the tip of his blade into her skin, he teasingly drags it across her skin. "Tell me, Deputy, how did you feel when you got the news of Samuel's death?" "Chipper." She spitefully answers with a sneer. John heaves a dramatic sigh and presses the blade down harder, prompting tiny beads of blood to bubble up as he traces over the letters of her tattoo. "You can make this easier for yourself, you know." "I've heard that before. Got me a bullet to the leg." "Because you ran. My men only acted accordingly." "Fuck you and your men, pussy." "My, what a mouth on you." He tuts and makes a deeper cut. Her teeth sink into the leather in her mouth, denying him the satisfaction of hearing her make a noise. Without pause, he moves onto the second letter, brows scrunched up in concentration as he goes over the lines again and again. It isn’t until he’s on the last letter that she finally breaks with a muffled groan. He stops, lifting his eyes from his work. “Comfortable?”

John & Willa are bonding so well. Truly, I think they're starting to get along!

#**wips subject to change**#nah i thought it was tuesday today like... huh #anyway guess what guys i actually have stuff for wip wednesday! granted its not that great but ehh we tryin & thats all that counts #i love when docs will put a red underline under my words like... hunni if that aint a word it is now!!#ohhhh gabriel may be taking celestes shit now but just wait for it... hes a man who suppresses his anger until it builds and blows <3 #i need gabriel like a dog needs a bone ya feel? (shh dont look at me...)#Cel & Gabriel's past history is interesting and a bit convoluted (yes; they fucked)#also i love writing willa bc im like 'how many times can i make her swear? yes!' she just doesnt care anymore #shes feral & angry & shes finally indulging in it #also willas overreacting it was a bullet GRAZE not a bullet WOUND**#meanwhile johns like 'hehe knife time while i interrogate you bestie! <3'#wanted to include some stuff from Sparrows fic too but ah well. maybe next time #ok tag spam done SORRY #oc: celeste night #oc: gabriel walker #oc: willa rook

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dangans-ur-ronpas · 1 month

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Chapter 16

this is byakuya's no good very bad worst shit ass day of his life (so far)

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

just a note that i probably won't be updating chapter 17 until two weeks out (doctor stuff next week). apologies in advance for the cliffhanger

byakuya is kind of a shit defendant ngl. like buddy you have to get the jury to believe in you? if you dont want the guilty verdict??

makoto is doing his best here

@digitaldollsworld sjdfkdsjflkd

Content warning tags: not sure. but byakuya spirals into anguish if that's something you're not into, slight suicide mention?

< previous - from start - next >

Makoto’s voice echoes through the chamber, cracking through the air like a gunshot. It stuns Owada into silence; it draws all eyes to him.

Byakuya can’t even turn his own gaze away. Makoto has his fists clenched at his side, and stands tall and determined. Commanding the trial once more.

“Byakuya wouldn’t have killed Chihiro.” He says firmly. “And, Byakuya wouldn’t have been able to replicate Syo’s crime either.” He says it with such conviction that Byakuya can’t help to feel that irrational relief again, that comfort he could take in Makoto’s support.

“Can you explain?” Celeste asks, and Makoto nods stiffly.

“First…there’s the matter of location. It just doesn’t make sense, considering what we know.” He says his words steadily, carefully - laying out a careful foundation. “Me and Chihiro left the library at around noon, and went around the first floor, right? We found Hiro in the laundry room first.”

Hagakure nods, finger rasping along his chin. “Yeah, and we talked for…what, ten minutes? Maybe fifteen?”

“Right. And then we went looking for Mondo and Taka…we found them cleaning up in the trophy room.” Makoto's face turns to Owada and Ishimaru, seeking affirmation. “Chihiro wanted to talk to you guys one at a time, so Mondo, you came with us to the cafeteria, because you wanted to get something to eat.”

The only response that Owada gives is a grunt, but it’s not outright denial. So Makoto continues:

“I don’t remember exactly how long Chihiro spent there, but I know he left before one. We already knew where Taka was, and we knew that Chihiro wanted to go talk to him next. So there wouldn’t have been any reason for him to go to the second floor!”

“Ah, but.” Celeste cuts in. “What is the proof that Byakuya did not go downstairs? It’s hard to justify the library as the place of death, but is it not possible that Chihiro was killed on the first floor?”

“That would have been difficult. There were only so many places he could go where no one else would have noticed, or that he had access to.” Kyoko points out. “If Kiyotaka was in the trophy room, he would have had a direct line of sight of the stairs. Kiyotaka, did you notice Byakuya going downstairs at any time?”

She turns towards Ishimaru now. The Ultimate Moral Compass, their apparent de-facto leader and head of class, is dead silent. But his head turns in a slow shake-

“Don’t use my bro as an excuse!” Owada interrupts, again, and Byakuya finds himself with a mouthful of fresh blood, as he bites down on his inner cheek in frustration. “He’s injured, see? You expect him to give a testimony after he took a trophy to the head?”

Just how injured is he? Ishimaru seems to be standing steadily. In fact, other than his uncharacteristic silence and the bandage on his head, it was hard for Byakuya to discern if there was any difference in him at all. But there’s some slight awkward shuffling around him, as the others react with sympathy.

“...You okay, Taka?” Hagakure asks, gently. Ishimaru is still, before nodding once, jerkily. “Um. Okay, then…”

“E-even so!” Makoto’s stutters a bit, thrown off for a moment. “We can’t confirm that Byakuya did go downstairs at all!”

“But it’s not like we can confirm that he didn’t?” Yamada points out, adjusting his glasses. “I mean, I don’t mean any disrespect, Mister Togami - but I did take note of where everyone was around the time the body was discovered, and everyone else has alibis - so is there anyone who can vouch and say that you were in the library the whole time?”

Byakuya can only click his tongue sharply, turning away. Of all the people to want to get a dig at him, and suddenly try to be useful… ”Toko was with me. Twenty minutes before the body was found.”

He stares expectantly at Syo, who crosses her arms, tilts her head, and then shrugs. “Sorry, she’s really zonked out. Down for the count and all that, y’know?”

The one time he needed her! He scowls, but he can’t be bothered to waste time on her anymore. He turns back to Makoto. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking from here, but Byakuya can hear a soft tapping, the slight bounce of his leg against the floor.

“Putting location aside, we also have to consider motive, right?” Makoto says. The confident edge in his voice is almost gone. “The interaction he had with Chihiro isn’t necessarily enough to implicate him. If anything, that would have made it harder for him to get Chihiro alone…he wasn’t exactly, um, nice when he said all that stuff…”

Byakuya almost rolls his eyes. He had been plenty nice at that time; but that was not important at the moment.

“It’s true, Chihiro was…kind of a scaredy-cat, right? I mean, before today!” Hagakure says hurriedly. “And no offense Togami, you’re kinda the loner type…except for with Makoto.”

“Shut up and make your point.” He growls, and Hagakure throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

“I’m just saying you’re not the easiest guy to talk to, man!”

“I don’t try to be.” But Hagakure had brought up a good point. “I’m not interested in being friendly with any of you. That included Chihiro.” That wasn’t a lie, technically. Up until this point, his relations with Makoto and Chihiro were made out of necessity and mutual gain. “He did tell me his secret earlier, but Makoto was present during that time. Other than that, we have had no other interactions.”

That was more of a lie. He was purposefully omitting mention of their conversation in the bathhouse the other night. But it was fine, since he doubted Makoto would betray him now, and the one person who was aware of it - Toko - was apparently too caught up in her own head to disprove it.

“And that was also when you told him to try confessing his secret to the rest of us?” Celeste asks.

Why was she doubting him? He scowls at her. He needs the rabble to leave him alone already. “Yes.”

“How interesting.” She has her hand pressed to her lips again, an action that reminds him oddly of a self-satisfied cat. “Pray tell, at what time did you speak with Chihiro today?”

By the sound of her voice alone, Byakuya has the distinct sense that he’s being toyed with. Being lured to a trap. Even without ever being able to see Celeste’s face, he had always been aware that she was someone to tread carefully around, simply by the way she used words alone. Like laying mines in a field.

But there’s no way for him to answer this question without drawing suspicion. Silence would be even more damning. “Why do you ask?” He replies, carefully. He can’t tell, but he thinks Celeste might be smiling.

“You said earlier that you and Chihiro had no other interactions,” She sounds almost amused, despite the gravity of the situation. “I have a confession of my own to make. Even though it violates our ten-PM rule, I sometimes like to take walks after hours. I quite like the ambiance of the reduced lighting, and the feeling of being entirely alone.”

The sudden tangent catches him off guard. Apparently, he’s not alone in that aspect. “Um…Celeste?” Makoto’s voice is hesitant, confused. “What does this have to do with the trial…?”

“Well, as it happens, there are certain things that get revealed in the night-time that are otherwise unseen during the day.” She tilts her head playfully, and he feels a sudden sense of foreboding. “And late last night, perhaps after midnight, I do happen to remember seeing Byakuya and Chihiro leave the bathhouse together.”

The reaction is instantaneous. All around him is a clamor of shock, but he can barely make out individual words. His own ears are ringing slightly, as he tries to parse what Celeste just said.

“T-t-t-together?!” Yamada gasps, almost comical in his surprise. “B-but, I thought, with Mister Naegi-!”

“Boy-on-boy?!” Syo shrieks, practically jumping at her stand. “How obscene!! And such an unexpected pairing-?!”

“Scandal? In my school?!” Monokuma wails, thumping at its head with its paws “Oh, I knew I should have pushed abstinence harder! Where did I go wrong?!”

“All of you, shut the fuck up!” Owada snaps. There’s a catch in his voice; he seems thrown-off too, his previous attitude shaken by the sudden reveal. “You bastard…you better have a good explanation!”

Byakuya stays silent. His head is a buzz of meaningless sound.

“Wait, wait! Stop!” Makoto is waving his arms, trying to settle the noise. “That - Celeste, do you have any proof to back this claim?”

And she, the Ultimate Gambler, hums in amusement. “What proof can I offer? I did not take a picture. And it’d be pointless to describe what they were wearing.”

The absurdity of that statement draws him out of his shock. “Then why mention it at all?!” He snaps, and she giggles, infuriatingly.

“The two of you seemed to be on friendly terms last night. Why do you assume that I am not trying to assist you?” There’s a soft clack as she sets her hand against the railing, her nails tapping against the wood. “I hope you will forgive me for accidentally eavesdropping, but I did hear you suggest to Chihiro some advice regarding strength, no? It was surprising at the time, but it’s reassuring to know that you have a heart of flesh.”

She sounds like she’s smiling at him. He can only glare. Queen of Liars, indeed - he’s underestimated her. It feels like he’d been misjudging many people recently.

“...When you say ‘advice’, do you mean that was when Byakuya told Chihiro to talk to us individually?” Ogami asks, and Celeste just nods.

“Then, he did that with the intention of killing Chihiro from the start!” Owada spits venomously. “When has that guy ever been nice? And why else would he lie about this to begin with!”

“Mondo, seriously! This is just circumstantial!” Makoto tries to say, but he’s lost his assertiveness. He’s overwhelmed quickly, as the others begin their own speculation.

“It’s…really hard to say it’s Syo, huh?” Asahina wonders aloud to herself, almost regretfully. “It’s also hard to say it’s Byakuya, but…”

Shut up. His head hurts. He needs to think. He presses the ball of his palm to his temple, and finds his hand slick with sweat.

“There’s no one else who seems suspicious,” Yamada agrees. “If we consider all the evidence, and the, ah, love triangle…maybe, it was a crime of desperation? To frame Miss Fukawa so she would leave him alone…?”

Shut up. It was loud. They were so loud. He needs to think, he can hardly hear himself, his own thoughts. He couldn’t rely on Makoto anymore, but without him he had nothing left but himself.

“Maybe we should just ask him directly!” Hagakure shouts with bravado, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Hey, Byakuya-”

“Shut up!” He screams back.

The room falls silent. All he can hear is his own breathing, labored and harsh. His head is pounding, ringing in time to his beating pulse; he keeps his gaze fixed on the wooden beam beneath his hands, a flat strip of brown. He’s not sure what looks they’re staring at them with, but he doesn’t want to know.

A few pieces of weak, awkward, circumstantial evidence, and a reputation of being unsocial - was that really all it took? Had he fallen so far that this was all it took?

“It’s not me,” His voice is distant and unfamiliar, shrill with fury. “I wasn’t the only one aware of Syo’s murders. I wasn’t the only one on the second floor. All the evidence is weak at best, and clearly placed to frame me. Are you all stupid? Or just suicidal?” He casts his gaze around at each of their faces, as blank and empty as ever. “Isn’t there one other person here without an alibi? One other person who would know about Syo, other than me?”

“Byakuya-” Makoto says, but it’s so soft he ignores it. He points at Kyoko, who doesn’t even flinch. A statue of lilac marble.

“When the body was found. You were there.” He sounds insane, even to himself. The last, desperate floundering of a doomed man. “ ‘It’s reminiscent of that serial killer,’ but how would you have known that? Explain yourself, Kyoko Kirigiri!”

Kyoko doesn’t move. He can’t tell if she’s shaken at all, or if his words have had any effect. “I read the case file for it in the library a while ago,” is all she says, simply. “As for my whereabouts during the time of the murder, I was also on the second floor. I was investigating the bathrooms.”

“Alone, I’m presuming? And do you have any proof?

“I have no alibi that can be supported by another person.” She admits easily, as if he weren’t accusing her of murder. “As I said earlier, at the time of death, I was investigating in the boy’s bathroom. The only one who might be able to confirm that I had ever been in that room at all, is Toko-”

“And me!” Syo interrupts, sounding genuinely offended. “Gloomy might’ve been the one who collapsed on you, but I was the one who woke up to your mug staring me in the face!”

“-Furthermore, Makoto investigated the bathroom separately.” She continues. “I will let him describe what was found there himself.”

Byakuya turns to Makoto. This was a prime opportunity - surely, Makoto had found something, anything at all -

“...The sinks and taps in the second-floor bathrooms were all dry.” He starts, slowly, hesitantly. “And- there wasn’t anything that could have been the murder weapon. There was also a lot of dust, so it wasn’t a place that was recently cleaned, and considering the time period in which Chihiro could have died…it’s just not likely.”

And that was it. Byakuya clutches the railing to keep himself upright.

There’s a sharp intake of breath from Owada’s direction. A breath of triumph, maybe, before he asks Monokuma to start the vote - or a gasp of surprise, at how easy it must have been. How defenseless Byakuya is, hardly amounting to anything.

The thought makes him lean a little more against the railing, his arms trembling. He thinks he might puke.

“But,” Makoto raises his voice again, and Byakuya clings to it, like a drowning man to a buoy. “There’s one more reason why it can’t be Byakuya. The way the word ‘bloodlust’ was written is…it’s too perfect. It matches up too much with Syo’s handwriting from previous cases.”

“It’s not that hard to copy someone’s handwriting?” Asahina starts to say, but Makoto shakes his head.

“It…it’s not something that Byakuya could have done.” He sounds…strained, somehow. Uneasy, hesitant - If Byakuya didn’t know better, he’d think that Makoto sounded guilty - “It’s impossible for him to have done this, because…he’s blind.”

< previous - from start - next >

#thpff chapters #danganronpa fanfiction #byakuya togami #looved writing celeste here she's the worst ever #i did mock trial in high school and i really do not envy makoto here byakuya would be the woorst person to defend for #guy that needs to avoid a wrongful accusation and the death penalty: hey jury. you're all fucking morons and should be dead #also was not planning on making the trial this long its gonna be another 2 chapters at least #but. in my plan to write this fic with a blind protagonist. i neglected to consider the fact that he would be an unreliable narrator #physically incapable of providing all the details. so. ofc the trial would be long af #thpff

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copiousloverofcopia · 11 months

Text

THIS. IS. IT.

The Final Chapter of The Red Dress!

Thank you so much to everyone who stuck around until the end. I appreciate you all so much and I hope you like it.

Commissions are still open if anyone is interested, please see my pinned post for carrd info!

The Red Dress

Celeste is a stagehand at a local arena when her night goes south after a Ghost concert leaving her cornered by ghouls. Her life changes forever when she is told that she is to play a crucial role in the destiny of Papa Emeritus IV, and that the gimmick is real.

Chapter 9: THE END

Also available HERE on AO3! Haven't started yet, start from the beginning HERE!

Definitely NSFW below the cut!

“Where is she?” Copia commanded as he and Celeste reached the bottom of the main stairs. He felt in his core that the arrival of their visitor was a sign, though he knew not of what. Celeste squeezed his hand tightly, still nervous in the presence of them. The pack of ghouls, unnerving even now as they grunted and growled amongst themselves before her. It was only a moment before one of them spoke, but for Celeste it felt a lifetime.

“We brought her to the chapel Papa. she awaits you both.” the ghoul called Aether replied. Copia’s eyebrow perked, Celeste taking note. It was as if something had occurred to him, like a moment of deja vu swept across his face. A fleeting thought passing, leaving Celeste in the dark.

“What?” she asked, needing to know what was going on in his head. What did he realize that she hadn’t? Copia caressed her face and gave her a deep kiss. The intensity of his mouth on hers—reminding her of how much she belonged to him. That nothing would ever harm her as long as he lived.

“Just seems peculiar to me that your mother came here at all…and alone.” he said, mulling over the implications. Celeste wasn't surprised she wanted to see her. Lucy thrived on being able to control her daughter and so of course she’d take any opportunity presented to her. What did surprise Celeste, was that she was able to be found.

She had, in fact, packed up that day and left everything behind. Wondering at first who was the first to come looking for her at the old apartment. Shocked when they were met with the putrid corpse of her ex decomposing on the floor—and Celeste nowhere to be found. Maybe it had been Lucy? Celeste wondered now how she found her with no letter or any indication as to where she’d gone.

They all continued on down the hall, Celeste gripped tighter to Copia. The hallway in the evening had always left her feeling petrified. It felt as if the cold, hollow eyes of paintings seemed to follow her then. Even now, as they approached the archway into the chapel, this place she now called home, still managed to make her hair stand on end. The unease inside her, steadily growing as she caught sight of her mother.

Lucy stood up from one of the front pews as soon as she heard them approach. The smile on her face, making Celeste immediately suspicious. She rushed towards her daughter and Copia, arms held out wide, when yet another set of ghouls materialized in front of her. Blades drawn and teeth bared. She immediately stopped, her blood running cold as the ghouls hissed and snarled at her.

“I—I mean no harm.” Lucy assured them, trembling in their presence. Copia wanted to laugh, knowing all it would take was a snap of his fingers and the ghouls would devour her whole before his hand rested. He saw her as no threat—though Celeste still felt the hum of something brewing. She knew her mother’s manipulative nature and that, while she may say she means no harm, she was still very much up to something.

“What is it you’ve come here for?” Copia demanded, his demeanor calm and collected. Waving his ghouls to stand down. Lucy was shaken, the color returning to her fingers as she loosened her grip on the back of the pew. Still unable to fully relax, even with the ghouls now retreated. She slowly continued towards her daughter and Copia, taken back by them as she finally was able to process what she’d seen. Keeping her eyes fixed on them, even as she saw flashes of the ghouls scouring the walls in her peripheral vision.

Copia was something to behold, his demeanor giving Lucy the impression she should be bowing before him. Standing there in his majestic robes of bronze and deep sapphire. His miter, tall and shimmering in the light from the chapel's candles. His face paint, working to instill a sense of fear and respect. This was the man who fathered her daughter’s child, the man who was destined for her—the Antichrist himself. Lucy could hardly bear the intensity of his presence and as she turned her gaze to her daughter her breath was stolen from her lungs.

She couldn’t help but awe at her. Celeste was every bit the Queen she was born to be. Seeing the two of them together was overwhelming. Celeste’s pronounced belly under her lavish gown—the culmination of years of planning that had finally taken place. A plot now, Lucy was abject to have taken part in.

“I’ve come to see my daughter.” she said, her eyes falling back to Celeste’s stomach. Lucy sighed heavily as she stared at it. Taking a moment before making eye contact with her daughter once again. “Oh Cece, the baby is almost here isn’t he?” she asked, the hint of sorrow and bitterness held in her voice.

“Ye—what is it you want mother? As far as I am concerned you have no business here with my husband and I.” Celeste snapped, trying her best to show dominance. Tight mouthed and standing tall beside Copia. It was nothing but a thin veil, hiding her hesitation and fear of her own mother. A fear Lucy could always spot, like a shark senses blood in water.

“Husband?” Lucy asked, acting as if any of this was a surprise to her. She knew deep down the truth. A truth that she now grappled with telling Celeste. Wondering if her confession, her contrition would make any difference to their fate.

“We were wed once we arrived here… but beside the point mother you don’t belong here. I suggest you return home.” Celeste replied with her whole chest. Prideful in standing up to her mother. Lucy, of course, appeared shocked and hurt before nodding in acceptance.

“...I will take my leave then. Though there really isn’t any way for me to get to the train station this late at night—-and lord knows when I would be able to get a hold of the airline to book a flight. Might I impose upon you to stay just until morning.” she begged. Copia could feel Celeste’s grip tightening up once again on his hand. He was sure that his hand would suffer permanent nerve damage from the intensity of her clutch. It was obvious to him she was nervous, but something told Copia that Lucy should stay.

“Amore…what do you say? One night won’t hurt things will it?” His words, purred into Celeste’s ear. She pulled away, eyes staring widely at him. It was astonishing to her that the literal Antichrist would provide her more love and comfort, despite all that had transpired between them, than the woman who birthed her. It was however true and here they were, Celeste leaning into Copia for safety as she cowered inside at her mother’s presence.

“I guess.” she conceded, watching Lucy’s face fill in delight. It made her sick to her stomach. The same woman who allowed Morty to hurt her, in all ways possible, now freely staying in what was supposed to be her sanctuary.

“Thank you Cece, thank you…uh…” Lucy began, realizing that she didn’t actually know the man’s name—only what he was.

“Ah yes, please allow me to introduce myself, I am Papa Copia Emeritus the Fourth.” Copia testified straightening the lay of his robes across his chasuble.

“Well then, let's get you settled.” Celeste began, turning to face the ghouls. “Aether, would you please escort my mother to a guest room in the west wing? She can stay there for the night.”

“With pleasure.” The ghoul replied, heeding her command as he and another ghoul grabbed the bags Lucy had left in the pews. Turning his head and motioning for her to follow him. Lucy caught on quickly to his meaning and, despite her fear, followed along behind him. As her mother disappeared from the chapel, Celeste felt her head begin to ache. A rushing feeling sent through her, leaving her lightheaded and fatigued as she brought herself to sit down in one of the back pews.

“Amore, are you alright? Is it?” Copia asked worriedly, dropping to his knees at her side. Hand held gently on her belly.

“I’m alright, just tired today.” she assured him with a soft smile. “I just need a minute.”

“Take your time cara…seems I have been too rough with you this evening. I suppose it’s too close now for me to be…so indelicate with you.” he mused.

It was clear from the cloud cover and the roar of the thunder outside, that a storm had begun. The sun, now almost completely eclipsed by the moon. The sky hued with the color of blood. The lighting began to crash across the Heavens, raging with fury of what was to come. The unsettling silence at dinner between Copia, her mother, and Celeste, leaving her feeling even worse.

“I will be fine…but I am telling you Copia, there is something else going on. That woman has never wanted anything to do with me my whole life, except to control me. If she is here, it's for a reason.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Copia noticed it too. Celeste now seemed weaker and more tired than ever. He wondered if things were closer than he realized. “Amore, why don’t you go rest. The signora and I can manage.” Copia insisted. Celeste would have protested, but she felt since her mother’s appearance, her energy level had dwindled. Chipped away little by little, slowly leaving her with each passing moment.

“Maybe you're right. I shall take my leave. Mother.” Celeste nodded at Lucy, getting up slowly from the table in the Papal wing of the Abbey and headed off to her and Copia’s chambers. She walked slowly, cradling her heavy belly in her arms. The weight of everything, including her child, was becoming harder to bear. She needed the rest more now than ever as the time drew nearer to the child’s birth and to the beginning of war between Heaven and Hell.

Like a sparkling crackle of fire, the sky lit up once more with lighting. The light, bathing Celeste in a rainbow of color as it shined through the stained glass. When she made it back to their suite, she collapsed on the bed. Feeling completely drained and unable to move.

Back in the dining hall, Copia stared ominously at Lucy as he took a sip from his glass of wine. Lucy fiddled with her napkin in her lap. Adjusting in her seat as if her pants were filled with sand. It was obvious she was nervous and that her being there was suspicious. It would be hard to convince Copia otherwise.

“You know…your daughter is smarter than you think.” Copia said as he set his glass back onto the table. Resting his chin on the backs of his hands as he continued his glare at her.

“I beg your pardon.” Lucy said, feigning ignorance to his words. She knew what he meant but she had to keep up her side of things and pretend.

“I think your part in all of this would be much better heard from your mouth than if I tell her, don’t you think?”

“I am not sure what—”

“Puoi smettere ora Lucy, siamo solo noi due. So per cosa sei venuto qui.” Copia growled watching the fake smile slip away from Lucy’s face.

“Ah so you know?” she asked him. Copia chuckled a bit, returning to his glass of wine as he rose up from the table and approached her. Lucy sat straight up in the chair, frozen as Copia approached her. When he finally reached her, he bent down to whisper in her ear.

It was hours later when Celeste awoke. Her head once again pounding and a pain searing from her belly overcoming her. It was far worse than she had ever felt in her entire life as it traveled from her back towards her belly. Tearing through her as she glanced over at the clock, 3:33 in the morning, she thought to herself. Celeste was frightened, teeth clenched in pain—it was time.

“I do and I know why you’ve come here. Make no mistake…they will fail.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When she went to roll over, she found only Copia’s spot empty beside her. She did her best to sit up, holding still a moment as her vision blurred. Where could he possibly be right now, she asked herself. When she went to stand up, a rush of fluid came pouring out from inside her.

“Oh fuck.” she cried aloud, wincing in pain but before the words had even fully left her lips, she could hear them. Voices of men, growing closer and closer, coming from outside in the hall. Her blood ran cold. Every nerve firing, urging her to run as fast as she could.

She knew she wasn’t going to get far, not like this. She struggled to pull herself over to the large armoire at the other side of the room. Tucking herself beneath the hanging clothes to hide. Biting into her lip to keep from screaming out in pain.

It took everything in her to hold still, shaking uncontrollably as the pains returned. The voices, now clearly inside the room as the tears began silently streaming down her face. She begged in that moment, to whatever god would listen, to keep her baby safe. That Copia would rescue her—but no one came.

“She has to be on the grounds somewhere.” said one of them, Celeste terrified as she watched from the cracked doors of the armoire. She could only make out the shadows as they passed in front of it, a total of five men had entered her room. All of them shrouded in black, bearing rosaries at their waist. The crucifixes, making a quiet tapping sound as they moved about the room.

The storm continued raging outside as Celeste hid from the holy crusaders rummaging through her room. Desperately in search of her before it was too late. “We will find her, Lucy said she was here.” said one of the other men. Immediately Celeste’s eyes widened, they were there because of her mother. She had felt it and if it wasn’t already apparent, now she was certain the men were there to harm her.

“Cardinal Mariano…” one of the bishops said, motioning for the Cardinal to look down. When he did, he noticed the trail of water. It started at the side of the bed and continued until just outside the armoire. The light from the storm outside, illuminating the small puddles across the wood floor. They had discovered where she was hiding—just in time the Cardinal thought.

The men got silent, Celeste beginning to only hear the sound of her heart pounding as the door came flying open. Revealing her to the men. “There you are whore.” a bishop proclaimed, yanking Celeste out onto the floor. The group of men, working quickly to surround her.

Celeste cried out in pain as she hit the ground. Another contraction overtaking her, with the next not long behind it. She struggled hard against them. Spitting blood into one of their faces from the bite in her lip, but there were just too many.

Before she knew it, they had gagged her. The fabric, burning at the edges of her mouth as she fought to scream. The men carried her over to the bed, holding down her limbs as the Cardinal climbed on top of her. “Give them to me now. We haven’t much time!” he commanded as one of the other men pulled a black leather parcel from within his jacket.

The Cardinal rolled it out across the bed beside her. Celeste, still fighting to break away from them as she caught sight of its contents. It was a glint from the blades, made from celestial stone, that gave them away. Seven of them, forged in the time of Christ in preparation for this very moment. The Seven Sacred Daggers of Megiddo, ready to extinguish Satan’s progeny on Earth.

Celeste cried, warm tears drenching her hair as she thrashed about below the Cardinal. His thighs, pressing tighter along her sides in an attempt to keep her still. They needed to hit things just right for the daggers to do their job. The men began to chant, flicking holy water over Celeste’s body—stinging as the drops hit her flesh.

She managed to dislodge the gag, a blood-curdling screaming surging from within her and filling the room. “No! Please don’t hurt my baby! Copia! Copia!”

“Will you shut her up!” the Cardinal hissed, another of the men quickly attempting to re-gag her. Celeste bit hard to his hand, the blood filling her mouth as he managed to muffle her screams. The daggers began to glow beside her—still no Copia, or anyone, to be found. Celeste feared that they may already be dead and that it too would be her fate.

The Cardinal picked up one of the daggers, whispering prayers under his breath before kissing the hilt. He held the dagger high above Celeste’s belly, both hands gripped hard to steady it. “Hac sacra pugione summa mali extinguimus. Ut animam a mortali cortice solvamus…” he chanted and suddenly Celeste felt as if she were below water.

The sound drowned out within the room and a sudden rush of energy, bursting through her. She turned her head, just as the dagger began to descend upon her, and saw Copia along with her mother and a pack of ghouls rushing into the room.

“Enough!” Copia commanded, the power exploding from inside him in a fiery heat as he willed the Cardinal across the room alongside his men. Their bodies bashing against the stone walls with full force. All of them clutching their sides as they began to bleed from within.

“Are you alright?” Copia asked, rushing to Celeste’s side. The daggers, losing the shine once emanating from them. All Celeste could do was nod, holding tight to her dark prince when another contraction hit. Copia’s eyes widened in realization.

“The baby is coming.” Celeste cried. Copia kissed the top of her head, his attention however stolen by the sound of the Cardinal coughing from across the room. The ghouls had surrounded them, waiting for the indication to strike, when Copia approached them. Celeste’s mother, coming to her side in his stead.

“We (cough, cough) have seen your face.” The Cardinal stuttered, blood running down the side of his mouth as his whole body shook in fear. Copia stood over him, menacing and powerful. “...carved in stone and painted in ancient lands. (Cough, cough) It is you the devourer of worlds, darkness incarnate, bringer of the end of days.”

“Yes…Cardinal Mariano, it is. I am the man born of humanity and sired by the old one. It is my dynasty that shall rule for the next millennia as I watch your god’s paradise burn to the ground.” Copia laughed, watching as horror filled the Cardinal’s eyes. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I am about to become a father.”

“No! No! No!” the Cardinal cried. Copia snapped his fingers and in an instant, the ghouls attacked the men—eating them alive. The sounds of tearing flesh and screaming thick in the room. Sounds that Celeste now remembered from their visions, visions that now she knew were prophetic.

When the sounds faded, and only the noise of their thumping lifeless and hollowed out husks hit the floor were left, Copia returned to Celeste. He lifted her up off the bed, the room now filled with a mass of siblings and ghouls around them. Celeste tried to stand struggling with her balance while in immense pain. She realized she was now dressed in the ominous red dress. The scent of blood surrounding her as the gown seemed to be seeping with it. Celeste grabbed hold of one of the daggers, shaking and scared as she stared down at it.

This was the beginning of the end of the world and in that moment Celeste was conflicted, her mind enveloped in anguish. Wondering if she should have been killed by the holy men. If her desire and love for Copia, and the child she carried, was worth the world. Then he spoke to her.

“Celeste. Amore, we should leave this room. I will not have you give birth to our son in this place if I can help it.” Copia declared, trying to get her to follow him out. Celeste stopped halfway out of the room, her mind overwhelmed and spinning. Copia could see the conflict rising inside her and knew it was the time for the full truth to be revealed.

“I don’t know if I can.” Celeste said, blank faced and lost in thought. Copia pulled her close and placed his hand on her belly. Feeling it tighten beneath his palm as another contraction spread inside her. He smiled, pulling up her chin to face him.

“You will, but before we have this child amore, there is something you need to know.” he told her. Celeste’s face, filled with confusion as a pair of ghouls brought her mother to stand before them.

“Mom…”

“Cece…I need to tell you something.” Lucy began, Celeste’s heart pounding inside her chest once more, teeth gritting with yet another contraction upon her. Too much was happening at once and she was now struggling to even stay conscious.

“Go on Lucy. Tell your daughter the truth.” Copia pushed, watching with glee at the interaction. His sinister smile, making Lucy tremble. Celeste was visibly shaking, waiting for what horrors her mother would reveal to her.

“When I was young, I made a choice. There was a man I was seeing while my family was on vacation. The man who would become your father.”

“I know this story mother—” Celeste snapped, doubling over in pain.

“No Celeste you don’t. That man was part of the Satanic church, he and I made a pact to have you. To conceive you in service of Lucifer. To give our souls and you to him. In exchange we were to have good health and riches beyond measure.. Promised a high position in the aftermath of Armageddon...”

“Oh my g–” Celeste began, as Lucy continued on.

“You were always destined to be here. Where you are right now. Your child is the darkness that will descend upon the world and bring about the end. Oh Cece, I’m so sorry…I was young and I made so many mistakes and I just can’t live with them anymore…” Her mother continued as if absolving herself of sins.

“Lucy.” Copia growled, knowing that her mother was still holding back. Celeste looked between them both. Whatever she was about to say, it seemed Copia had already been told.

“I don’t want to be in Hell. I don’t want eternal damnation Cece. I wanted to be back in God’s light and in order to do that, I had to.”

“No…” Celeste whimpered, as if she already knew what her mother was going to say next.

“I led the men here to find you. They promised I would be forgiven for my part in your creation and that I would be welcomed back into Heaven for my sacrifice. A sacrifice of your life and the child’s…in exchange for my absolution.”

Celeste saw RED. Her blood boiled and popped inside her veins. Rage overtaking her as Copia watched on. She lifted up the dagger still held in her hand and in one swoop stabbed deep into her mother’s chest. Yanking back as the blood gushed out from the wound and spattered all over her face.

“Cece…” Lucy said, her sounds barely discernible as she fell to the floor. Suddenly the whole room began to tear away from them. The Abbey walls, seeming to rip apart and fly up into the air. The sky swirling with red and debris all around them for farther than their eyes could see. The rain falling from clouds, now turned to blood in the storm.

Celeste stood above Lucy on the platform of the floor, all that was left of the room as the world collapsed around them. Adrenaline coursing through her veins and her pain at its peak when she spoke. “Welcome to the apocalypse that you helped to usher in mother. Your soul be damned.” Celeste laughed, crying as she did. Drained, she collapsed beside her mother on the floor, the baby was coming—and now.

Celeste began to scream, the labor pains coming without end. Copia dropped before her to help deliver their child. The world around them, crying as the noise of Gabriel’s trumpet sounded above them. The seas began to boil and the sky ripped open to reveal the demons and angels warring above them.

“This is it Celeste, push and he will be here. You can do this.” Copia praised. The red dress, bathing her in blood as it flowed from its threads. Her mother’s blood still glittering her face as she rose up to bear down against the force of her contraction. Before she knew it, the sounds of cries—her child’s cries entered into the world.

“Is he alright?” she asked, watching Copia swaddle the baby with the bed sheet. He smiled down at her and placed the warm baby into her arms. It appeared as any infant would, small and soft. Innocent looking and sweet, but the child was evil itself. Celeste looked over to Copia as the sounds of screaming and cries from humanity spread out throughout the land noises, still deeply in love.

The Earth began to crack around them, revealing Hell beneath. Demons and Ghouls, crawling up from the bowels of the world to devour mankind. Bodies of angels falling from the sky like rain. The End had come. Celeste and Copia lost in each other’s eyes, Celeste's left eye now shining a bright white just as his. She had accepted her fate—Queen of Hell, mother of Evil. The harbinger of the end.

“He’s perfect.” Copia assured her, lips then locked together as their infant cooed in their arms. The stars, beginning to fall from the sky.

Notes:

Clearly there are some Omen references in here since we all know how much Tobias likes that movie lol and it felt right lol.

Puoi smettere ora Lucy, siamo solo noi due. So per cosa sei venuto qui.- You can quit the act now Lucy, it is just the two of us. I know what you've come here for.

Hac sacra pugione summa mali extinguimus. Ut animam a mortali cortice solvamus.- It is with this sacred dagger we extinguish the epitome of evil. That we release the soul from its mortal shell...

#The Red Dress #Corrupt Copia #Antichrist Copia #Copia x OC Celeste #Corrupt Copia x Celeste #armageddon #Copia #papa iv #papa emeritus iv #ren writes #ghost #the band ghost #ghost fic #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfics #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fic #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction

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