#phantom!au

Summary: The Ministry is full of wayward spirits, but one in particular seems to be wreaking havoc. A ghost they simply call The Phantom. You are a Sibling of Sin performing in the Ministry's theatrical productions who has been meeting with a strange masked man in the wee hours of the night. These things couldn't possibly be related...right? Tags (so far): Phantom!Perpetua, POV second person, no use of y/n, gender-neutral reader, love triangle, making out, dry humping, no incest/twincest, possessive Perpetua

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: chapters are being posted as I write them; I don't know anything about ballet or theatre really so please forgive any inaccuracies; there will be absolutely NO copia x perpetua

Part I

Chapter 1: The Phantom

He’d haunted your dreams for the third time this week. It’d happened so often, that you were beginning to have trouble distinguishing between wake and sleep. The heavy feeling as you slide into sleep began to permeate your day-to-day life. Everything had a softened edge. You moved through the day in a haze but one that left you feeling at ease, not one that made you feel lost and exhausted. In fact, you’d never felt more at rest.

“Hello? Hello?” Your friend waved their hand in front of your dazed face. “Anyone in there?”

You blinked back to Earth and your balance wobbled as you held the barre. “Sorry,” you muttered. “I got lost in thought.”

They had a doubtful look on their face. “You’ve been doing that a lot. Is it all this stuff with the Phantom?”

“Oh, um...yeah.” They weren’t wrong, technically speaking. You had the Phantom on your mind, but not in the same way that everyone else did. Your visions of him felt so real. His presence felt like the first rain after a long summer. You always woke with the faint scent of petrichor and old library books lingering around you. The burn of his touch never failed to make you open your eyes in a cold sweat. “I guess I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“Me, too. It’s so scary,” they sighed. “I hope they catch him soon. I can barely focus on rehearsal with this crazy shit happening!”

You nodded. You’d spent the last few months preparing for the Ministry’s production of Hannibal as part of the ensemble. That was more than fine with you. You didn’t particularly care about the attention that came with having a big part in a show. At the end of the day, you just wanted to perform. So it wasn’t a big deal when you were turned down for the lead. It wasn’t to you, at least.

“Oh, Lucifer. Here she comes.” Your friend passed off the pained look on their face as a result of their stretching and not the woman who’d just waltzed in. She was the troupe’s not-so-secret favorite, taking every lead role in every show even if that required rewriting music to fit her vocal range. “Maybe her voice box will finally burst,” they muttered to you.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” you replied nonchalantly as you wrapped up your last stretch. With the prima donna being the last to arrive with her entourage, the troupe migrated from the rehearsal studio to the main stage. The show’s director was already seated with Sister Imperator and Frater Imperator alongside him. When you stepped out onstage, Copia sat up and gave you a small wave that went unnoticed by the heated conversation happening beside him. You smiled in return. With everyone present, the trio moved from their seats onto the stage.

“Settle down everyone, we’re already running behind,” the director huffed with a glare at his watch.

The group began their full rehearsal. The first show was in four days and everyone could feel it coming. Any slight delay on a turn or flat pitch was enough for your director to demand repeating the entire scene. This time around, everyone seemed to hit their stride a few scenes in. The star of the show made her way forward to begin her performance of Think of Me. Her commitment to being as pitchy as possible was impressive. She was a good singer but often fell straight over the line between showmanship and overkill. Your peers, as well as the Imperators, held back winces when she hit the higher notes. You, however, had just about mastered the art of the poker face.

A backdrop for a later scene, held high and tight above the sister performing, came crashing down with a bang that shook the stage. If it hadn’t been so loud, it would have landed right on top of her head. The director, Sister, Frater, as well as the star’s entourage, descended on her to be sure she was okay.

“That’s it! I am done!” She shouted. “Until this Phantom fuckery is handled, I am out!” The sister stormed off the stage and out of the theater. No one could do anything but watch.

The director and Copia spoke in hushed tones. While the troupe had side conversations of their own, Sister Imperator stepped forward, commanding the room’s attention when she spoke. “You. Sing it,” she pointed at you to come stand in front of her, the director, and her son.

You took shaky steps out of line with your eyes avoiding the trio in front of you.

“Well? Sing the aria,” the director.

“Go on,” Sister encouraged.

You took a breath and lifted your chin. Picking a spot just behind the men to focus on, your voice came out soft. “Think of me, think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye.”

“Louder,” Sister hissed under her breath.

You took her direction and your voice began to ring throughout the theater. All eyes were on you as you took almost everyone by surprise. Copia, Imperator, and your friend had known about your gift for years. With each bar of the aria, and a lack of outrage from the room, your posture straightened and your smile grew. Once you’d proven you could handle the push on your range to perform the song, applause broke out. You gave a stiff nod and bow, scurrying back to your place in line. Copia smiled at you; his eyes dragged down your form from head to toe. You felt your heart race.

“Very nice. Be in vocal rehearsals from now on,” the director instructed without a clear emotion. “Let’s go, people! Back to your places!”

Everyone scrambled to their marks to continue rehearsal. Throughout, you caught Copia’s eye every now and again. He and Sister Imperator gestured and whispered to each other every few moments. They seemed pleased with how things were going. You were excited to take over the lead role but grappling with the self-doubt and anxiety that came with it. In less than a week, you were going from quiet ensemble dancer to the face of the show. Only time would tell if you’d meet expectations.

---

You swallowed hard beneath the forced, beaming smile as you walked to the front and center of the stage with the lilting piano. All of a sudden, the lights were too bright, too hot. Your clothes too heavy and itchy. Could everyone see how much you were sweating? Did anyone else know that it took every last bit of strength to not turn around and run offstage?

You blinked and it was over. You barely remembered singing the aria before the roaring applause filled your ears. You couldn’t believe your eyes: not a single person was seated. A grin overtook your face and you gave a bow. The intermission began as you made a beeline backstage right into Copia’s arms. He picked you up and spun you around. “You were amazing, baby! You really gave ‘em a good ass kicking! I am so proud of you.” Copia put you down and left kisses all over your face.

You surged in to meet your lips with his half-painted ones. He hummed and smiled into the kiss, pulling you close until there was no breathing room between you. You broke away and tugged his hands toward you. Ensuring that no one was looking, you led him around a dark corner and pushed into a long-forgotten storage closet. In the dark space, your hands ran up and down Copia’s torso. You reveled in the way his soft stomach and hips felt under your fingertips. He whimpered when you squeezed his love handles and slotted your lips together. He slipped his tongue into your mouth while he began to grope you in return. Copia groaned when you grabbed handfuls of his ass. He bit your lip and pulled you impossibly closer. Your hands traveled to the front of his pants. Without hesitation, you pressed one hand against the growing bulge there.

“Ah, baby,” he gasped. “I-”

“Shut up. Please.” You pulled him by his lapels into another deep kiss. He spread his legs to accommodate you placing one of your own between them. Copia started to roll his hips against you, eliciting a moan from you at the feeling of his hard cock rubbing on your body.

He pulled back and cupped your cheeks. “Perhaps here isn’t the best place for...you know?”

Your heart sank while your stomach twisted. Hot blood rushed to your face. “Copia, if you don’t want to do this with me, we never have to,” you muttered. You pushed yourself off him and backed up against the wall. There wasn’t much space you could build between you, but any centimeter of distance felt better.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just—I want it to be the right time.”

“At this point it seems like there will never be a right time for me.” You kept your eyes away from his.

Copia’s face dropped. “Tesoro-”

“I should go. Need to touch up my face before intermission is over. I’ll see you later.” You flung the closet door open and fled.

The rest of the night’s performance went smoothly. For once, Copia’s rejection didn’t stop you from moving on. You refocused on your performance and shoved the storage closet encounter far back in your mind. At this point, you were more upset at how much it bothered you than you were at him turning you down. If he didn’t want you, you’d rather he just say it than continuing to make you think you had a chance with him. Whatever.

You sighed and bumped your head back against the door of your room. One hand found the light switch. You blinked under the change in brightness. As you started to change into your lounge clothes, two bouquets of flowers on your vanity caught your attention: identical dozens of deep red roses. You approached the vanity and the sweet scent overcame you. A small card peeked out of each bouquet. The one on your left read “My shining star, you always blow me away. Congratulations on your debut!” in tight cursive writing. It was signed “With Love, C.” A faint smile made its way onto your lips. Still, a pang of hurt stabbed you. Placing the card back into the flowers, you plucked the card out of the twin bouquet on your right. There was no message, just a simple yet elegantly signed “P.”

You dropped the note. Your blood ran cold, palms clammy, and your last meal began to make its way up your throat. A figure moved out of the corner of your eye. Your head snapped up to look into your reflection in the vanity mirror. The lights flickered and you swore you saw it again. With shaking hands, you looked over your shoulder.

Nothing.

You shook your head and chalked it up to exhaustion from the long week and even longer night you were currently having. When you looked into your reflection again, he was staring right back at you.

You screamed and slapped your hands over your mouth. No one could know what was happening. No one could know what you were seeing.

“Is everything alright in there?” A meek Copia tapped against your door. When you didn’t respond, he tried again. “Hello?! Hello?! Let me in!” His voice boomed and his fist pounded against the wood. The doorknob rattled. None of this racket registered to you.

A mismatched pair of green and white eyes framed by a metallic silver half-mask bored into yours. Dark ringlets framed his painted face. By now, you’d memorized every detail of the crisp black and white lines that gave him his unique visage. You could have, but didn’t turn around to see if he was lingering behind you. If you looked and he wasn’t there, it was only confirmation that these visits were nothing more than twisted dreams conjured by your desperate mind. No. Let the fantasy go on one more night.

“I’m going to get help!” Copia shouted and his footsteps retreated from your door.

The man in the mirror put a gloved finger to his lips. There was no need; you knew better than to make another sound without his instruction. He gestured with his free hand to the full body mirror mounted on another wall. You took wobbly steps toward it. The lights flickered again and in a blink, the man appeared beside your reflection in the mirror. One of his hands reached to you and met you in the real world. The warmth of his palm melded with yours in a firm grip. You felt no fear or danger in his hold. It was just another invitation to a world beyond your own.