#hellboundfics

Rain and Dewdrop : Quiet Love

It's a gentle kind of love. It requires no effort, no asking, no grand declarations. No matter how unique they both appear in the eyes of others, they always meet in the middle. They fit like puzzle pieces, physically, spiritually.

Their love is public, yet discreet. Observable but never invasive. It's Dewdrop's arm around Rain's waist when they wait in line at a bar. It's Rain's hand on Dew's knee when they sit together in the common room to chat with the others. It's Rain stealing Dew's hairband on his wrist when he's mid-conversation with someone else, knowing he has his silent permission. Or Dew wearing Rain's jacket instead of his own when he has to go out alone. Everyone can see these little marks of belonging. They brand themselves with pieces of the other, to keep a semblance of company, a smell, something to comfort, something to go home to. It's not ownership. It isn't a warning to stay away from a property. It's an affirmation to the world that they exist for each other.

Their love is Rain calming Dew's storms and Dew making him want to come out of his shell a bit more every day. It's Dew's hyperactivity and constant buzz finding its peace in Rain's presence, and Rain allowing himself to be loud when he finally finds someone who cares to listen.

It's Dew opening all the doors whenever the weather is humid and the sky is cloudy, so they can sit together by the window and watch the rain fall in silence. It's Rain picking up wildflowers as ornaments for their shared room because Dew confessed he loved them once. It's bathing together and brushing each other's hair every day, resting skin against skin in the bathtub without any second thought. It's Rain embracing Dew in the darkness of night and softly caressing his hair to help with his insomnia, and Dewdrop waking up before Rain to make breakfast.

Thanks to Rain, Dewdrop wants to read. He wants to think, to learn, to write, so Rain always has someone to nerd with and complain to whenever he finds a plot hole. Because of Dew, Rain desires to use his hands, to make, to fix, so there's someone to count on when gear comes in for repair and Dew's hands are too used for work.

When the world outside is too much, they find a quiet understanding in each other. They give their love in thoughtful acts and silent touches. It's to no one a question, it's never to be doubted. There's no alternative for what they have.

Mountain and Swiss : Past Love

Their love started with all the good intentions. It bloomed with curiosity, admiration... and even at times, devotion.

When Swiss joined the band, it was Mountain who showed him around. They walked through the whole building, passing rooms and rooms of history and artifacts, yet Swiss had all eyes on his guide. It made Mountain rather uncomfortable at first, this suave behavior Swiss already had fresh out of the Pit. But he learned to lean into it and take it as the compliment it was. It wasn't every day he felt even a little bit desired by someone else.

The first person you meet in a new place is often the one you cling to. Although Swiss did not cling to Mountain by fear of letting go and being left alone to fend for himself - he was the same confident ghoul he is today. It's just that Mountain had that older spirit, and Swiss had found that layers and layers under his calm façade, a wilder side of him existed. He wanted to unlock it. To see what was behind that secret door Mountain kept close.

Their love happened. Force of habit. Friendship and undeniable attraction just became something more with time and proximity.

They were worlds apart and to everyone, they made a really odd pair. When Swiss enjoyed going out and showing off his moves, Mountain preferred doing literally any indoor activity at his disposition. But eventually, they found their rhythm. Or so they thought.

As much as Swiss liked spending his afternoons in the greenhouse with Mountain, or watching him cook in the ghouls quarter, it frustrated him that he could always see this light flicker in Mount's eyes when they were doing more active things. Like he was tempted to run with Swiss, but always stayed behind. He'd bring him into clubs and would try to dance for him, but except for a genuine smile, Mountain would never join him. He'd look from far away. To Swiss's eyes, Mountain always looked like he wanted to, like something held him back.

From Mountain's perspective, watching Swiss having fun was a delight. It could be contagious at times. But partying became repetitive. After a handful of times, Swiss quickly became the only aspect of it that he honestly enjoyed. However, most of the time he just wanted to spend a nice evening at home, being domestic and actually having a conversation together. He wanted to know the softer sides of Swiss, too. Not just the bright and loud ones. There was no big secret on his part. He wasn't shy or intimidated, contrary to popular belief, but simply interested in other things. He guessed that Swiss liked this lifestyle only because it was so new to him, but his desire to live every minute like it was the last only persisted as months passed.

Sometimes, from the dark corner of the bar where he'd stood, he'd see a guy approach his partner with hungry eyes. And even if Swiss always declined the men's propositions, Mountain couldn't stop the feeling that someone else would make him happier.

Sex was great. But for that too, they weren't very cohesive. Swiss was able to get him out of his head and introduce him to a whole new world in this category. But Mountain could honestly live without it all. Having the man he loved close to him, intimate, would've been enough. Mountain often felt like he had to put on a show and perform to match Swiss's energy. Many times, he feared that whatever he'd give Swiss wouldn't be enough to maintain the already fragile relationship they had. If he couldn't keep up with Swiss or even challenge him and bring something new to the table, would Swiss still desire him ? And for how long ?

Eventually, their love turned out to not be enough. After weeks of failing to share good moments together or even simply managing to communicate, they had to sit and talk things out. And maybe Mountain should've broken the news a bit differently. But he was so desperate.

You're too much for me, Swiss

It wasn't how he had intended to say it. But it felt true. All this time he had longed to touch the vulnerable side of Swiss... but that day, seeing how these words hit him, all Mountain wanted was to erase the pain he had inflicted on him. Mountain had been wrong, vulnerability didn't suit Swiss at all.

During their mutual mourning, love, they learned, doesn't die. It simply changes. Some keep a sour memory of their love. Swiss and Mountain though, made the choice to save the remains of it. They stayed close, but only in friendship. They have to live together, after all.

Now even after years have passed, they keep leftovers of their love. Crumbs that could never compare to what it really should've been like. Some days the words still affect Swiss like a knife in the heart. Some days the regret eats at Mountain and he wonders if he should've just danced with Swiss. On these occasions he wishes he could go back and love Swiss properly, like he deserves.

There are things that only the two of them know. Happy memories, intimacy, scents, touches, words... those will link them both forever. It's easy to fall into nostalgia and hopes of new chances. But they know that their love was misshapen. They both grew their two halves of it in their own direction. The crumbs often tell Mountain that maybe it was the wrong time, that he still has chances. But when he sees Swiss fall again for someone new, he lets it happen. It's only then that he understands.

He understands that even if he tried his hardest, neither of them deserved someone who had to make an effort. And it wasn't anyone's fault if they couldn't make it work. Swiss and Aurora embrace each other wholly, without having to try at all. They're a perfect match, and that's all that matters in the end. One day, maybe, he'll have that too.

They know their love is not like everyone else's around them. It's strange. It's an archive, but it's theirs. This love is about loving the other with the most profound respect and wishing them the best. But most importantly, it's about knowing that not all love can fit, and we cannot shape people into what we want them to be.

It's about letting go.

Part 1. Rain and Dewdrop

Part 2. Cirrus and Cumulus

Alpha and Cowbell : Rebellious Love

To everyone, they were outcasts. But here, where nothing was pure and everyone fought for a place in the spotlight, their love was a haven.

The story is simple. Terzo only wanted a back vocalist. What he got instead was Cowbell. A tall, half-hunchback and wary ghoul with zero to no training for what he was summoned for. And because Terzo couldn’t sweep his mistake under the rug, he had to incorporate him into the Project in some way . 

But this 'mistake' only put the band in a bad light in the eyes of the Clergy. Cowbell quickly became a topic of discord among the other ghouls, who were all so desperately trying to secure their position amidst the chaos. Omega had already been fired due to his little affair with Terzo. They all knew that the next one to cause issues would have their name on Imperator’s list for an urgent replacement. They were even ready to sacrifice their brotherhood and infernal loyalty to avoid it.

Alpha should’ve run the race too. He should’ve fought for his place like the rest of them. They were all too busy pushing each other down for survival to care about a confused ghoul, and he should’ve done the same.

But Alpha cared. 

Someone had to.

Cowbell was quite unsettling. He had a bit of a staring problem, a disturbing addiction to noisy things and a blatant absence of social skills. But Alpha wasn’t bothered by any of it.

At all times, in all places, they sought each other's presence. Alpha because he had noticed how easy it was for Siblings of Sins and ghouls alike to pick on Cowbell when he wasn’t around, and Cowbell because Alpha's respected status guaranteed him shelter from the rest of the residents.

Just as Alpha was the only one willing to offer protection, Cowbell only trusted him. 

Ifrit and Zephyr : Burning Love

Their love is, to this day, the warmest.

Ifrit and Zephyr started as friends, just bandmates being put together in an exclusive project that would link all five of the ghouls together for the rest of their existence. But when they hit the road on that tour together... Oh, things changed forever.

In the beginning, they all enjoyed nice evenings as a band, smoking and chatting on hotel balconies until a contagious yawn would spread around the group. But Ifrit and Zephyr could both feel a pull between them that pushed them to linger there after everyone went to sleep.

Those nights, when they'd found themselves alone, they'd talk until the wind outside would turn cold and they inevitably had to get closer for comfort. They'd share a cigarette - Ifrit pointing a flame on his index towards where it would lie between Zephyr's lips.

They were both older, mature ghouls - Zephyr a little bit more than Ifrit. They had had their fair share of experiences in the past. There was no mystery with what was happening between them. But they both had had enough fun before to want to be serious this time around. For only a few weeks they danced like this around each other, waiting to see who'd be the first to fall.

And Zephyr did. He was often in pain, and Ifrit's fire had soothed his body many times before on these late and cold evenings. He owed it to him to make the first move, a simple slow kiss that quickly turned into a frenetic rush to his hotel room.

They kept it private. Not that it was a secret, but they were the oldest among the rest of the band, and they were over being glued to each other like young lovers. They had no time to disperse (as it would be expected from them).

However, pretending to be focused and mature about it made it all the more fun.

They cannot recount how many times their eyes burnt at the sight of the other, waiting and waiting for the show to end, for the night to finally come.

The only times when Zephyr's muscles weren't tight and screaming for rest were when he was in Ifrit's arms or Ifrit was in his. They'd slide into the other's room in the middle of the night, crashing into each other's mouth, with just the right amount of force to push the other against a wall, tearing their clothes away to find dark skin and greying hair to touch.

Even after months like this, after playing the same game over and over, they did not lose their flame. The tour came to its end eventually, and they each expected some change to happen between them with the slower schedule and the monotonous environment of the abbey. But they were yearning just the same, if not more with all the additional time on their hands.

What was supposed to be just a pause between eras and tours turned into a long period of discovery. Ifrit wanted to find every way he could break the tension in Zephyr's body, and Zephyr was just amazed by how much Ifrit knew and how strategically gentle he could be even with his stature.

Their love wasn't just pure desire. It was complicity, and a mutual sense of perfect timing. There was so much that could be said in looks and touches. They could breathe each other's air and still not get relief from how much they longed and wanted. After an existence of ordinary partners, they had finally found one that shared the same pace.

A bit before all the papacy trouble at the abbey, they decided, despite still being on the program with Aether, Mountain and Dew, that the Project could continue without them.

Don't ask where they are now. Retired, somewhere in Hell. In a little space of their own, where there's no distraction from each other.

Because love sometimes is learning to appreciate the simpler things.

There's no necessity in chasing glory when all you need is someone by your side to keep you warm.

Part 1. Rain and Dewdrop

Part 2. Cirrus and Cumulus

Part 3. Mountain and Swiss

Sunshine and Mist : Healing Love

Sunshine and Mist's love is redemption.

When Sunshine learns her voice isn't what the band needs anymore, she falls. One day, she's on the road with her family, and the next, she's left behind with the knowledge that they'll have someone else to take her place and continue her dream.

The abbey has never been so silent.

She never knew before what the past ghouls were to do once they were deprived of their functions. Where they went. She only guessed they just disappeared from the spotlight and became ghosts. How ironic. That seems to be the destiny of everyone who has ever been involved in the Project - even the Papas.

She never cared about all of these invisible spirits before. They didn't affect her. She was only rising.

Now she knows.

She knows the way to Mist's room like it's her own. Who found the other first ? Neither of them has that answer. It seemed they were both longing for each other long before they met. Mist who has been alone for so many years, and who long ago abandoned all hope of finding someone like her. And Sunshine who doesn't know how to hold her grief on her own without imploding.

Mist knows how to deal with disappointment and teaches all she learned to Sunshine.

They share love through their hands.

Mist's hands have always characterized her well. They used to be small, with short and colorful nails, but strong and able to hold her heavy bass. Their strength was once invested in music, but she has left most of it in the past. Now her hands are the product of slow and attentive labor, and unconditional love for all things left behind by others. Her hands bring back life to everything they touch.

It turns out, Sunshine learns, that there's a life after all that glory. It's modest and quiet but it's gentle and everything in it has value. Even a fallen ghoul like her.

Every day she joins Mist in her workshop, where everything is salvaged. Here, with a warm light behind handmade curtains, ripped sheets are sewed back together, stains are cleansed, electronics are repaired, shoes are patched up, and old furniture gets fresh paint. Rare are the things that do not find new purposes. Sometimes an object can't be fixed, so it has to be transformed.

Being here, assisting Mist in her chosen retirement plan instead of singing in a shiny costume somewhere beyond the sea - none of it was Sunshine's purpose when she was summoned. But alongside Mist, she learns, she fixes, she rebuilds.

Sometimes they allow themselves to fall back into their past. Sunshine hums while she works and everyone who picks up or drops an item for them at the workshop asks to hear more. Mist enjoys it the most, but never speaks a word about it. She just brings Sunshine to her room one day and lets her see her collection of instruments, also retired and only occasionally used to entertain old passion and nostalgia.

Nothing will ever kill their hunger for music. But they now perform on their own little stage, for each other and anyone who'd like to join.

Sometimes, they fix each other. Calloused hands, after a long day of work, find a body to rest on. They explore locks of hair, soft cheeks, the curve of a hip... And they know what to do with everything the Clergy doesn't see value in. Soft voices and experienced fingers meet and comfort and cherish.

This life is not smaller than what they were originally given. It's something different. Their presence in the confines of the workshop is a necessary one. They take everything the Clergy would throw out and give it back a sense of future. Some of the people who ask for their help forget the damage and simply thank them for giving them hope. Some people want the thing they love back and do not care for the shiny and new.

What their love does... It's giving new meanings to fallen ambitions and renewing faith in lost futures.

It's healing the broken.

Part 1. Rain and Dewdrop

Part 2. Cirrus and Cumulus

Part 3. Mountain and Swiss

Part 4. Ifrit and Zephyr

Of course ! Keep in mind that I'm going to improvise a bit for this one though ;)

TW : mentions of death and grieving

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The Halloween ritual is not mandatory, or else the presence of every ghoul would be demanded.

Since the Clergy has Papa IV at its head, traditions have been a bit swept under the rug. Copia only cares about having fun, and the Clergy doesn't mind opening the church to new events. Old traditions, like the Halloween ritual, don't actually promote the Clergy. They're only destined to a close audience of members and are quite secretive. Therefore, they aren't an effective way to welcome new believers in the ranks.

The ritual being only one of many, it doesn't have to be lead by the Papa, who only directs the major events of the year - much to Copia's relief. He delegates to another, lower representative. Years ago, when he was still a Cardinal, the Halloween rituals were his responsibility, therefore he considers that he has done enough. If you ask Imperator about her son's lack of interest in traditions, she'll tell you that Terzo started it, and well, she's not entirely wrong. Terzo still had his old-fuck of a father and his devoted ghouls to keep him in line, though.