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good-beanswrites · 5 months

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🎬: About Es being a past prisoner and the secret 11th prisoner in your AU. But advance apologies if I'm overstepping into your AU!

I had this idea from a story that pretty much did the same thing. Going off there are novels/manga on Milgram and there being another Es and their own prisoners running another Milgram (but differently) I imagine this Milgram projects has been going on for a while, and our Es was from a previous project who might have gotten the worst verdict (or the most spared out of everyone), and was given this final task as a warden for the next group of prisoners. This is why they so readily agreed and had their memories wiped for this Milgram project instead of being weary on a shady project on judging an almost crime, they've already been through this.

(BTW is it bad and worrying for one of our ten fav prisoners to be the next Es if this is legit...)

Anyway, that's why Es is in Milgram in your AU, I guess? And the lore drop that Kotoko picks up on them being the 11th prisoner, I can imagine her also talking to Kazui since he's a policeman to see if she could cross out any theories on who Es is (Did they look familiar. Possible missing child. Any cases to do with an almost crime by a child other than the 10 of them here). Kazui knows Kotoko wants to investigate, but reminds her that, like in their prison while the trial is on, the facilities they're in have high security too. They do have the freedom to move about, but still limited.

If they're trying to investigate Es, maybe Fuuta, Kotoko and Mikoto can try to do the hacking on the comp Mikoto's allowed to use to Photoshop some shots for the MVs and photos (Fuuta and Kotoko seem to be able to search up info they need I think...). Yuno, Mahiru and Muu can work on charming the staff to see if they can spill more deets on Milgram. Not sure how much the group can gather, but oh boy fun times in Milgram can turn into another sort of stress in this AU...

No worries!! Like I said before, this whole au has been a fun collaborative project, so there's no overstepping :) I am sorry I won't be writing a lot on the ending until we get more info, but that's just the perfectionist in me who doesn't want to be proven wrong 😅 Still, I love tossing around and digging into ending scenarios, I really love this!

Because that would make a lot of sense why they're so willing to subject themself to the whole experiment! They remember how tough their experience was, and are confident they can care for the new set of prisoners while doing their job. I'm imagining they get the opportunity to return as guard, and get to have a nice talk with their own guard first. Once they fully understand what it's like, they're know they can handle it and sign up. It adds a bit of drama, too, since they must have been really young committing their crime in order to complete a years-long experiment prior to this one. They would have been like 10? Oof. (Now I wanna see their three trial songs 👀)

And like you said, that also brings up the question of the new warden. Though I think it's based on verdict results, I can just picture Jackalope keeping an eye on everyone during filming. He studyies their interactions and personalities, keeping his own set of notes on who would make a good successor. (I'm not going to go through every character but there are pros to any choice, it's very fun picturing them all taking the job.) Haha, on the other hand, maybe the reason Kotoko keeps bringing up her role as Es' partner/bringer of justice is because she did discover the truth. She drops as many hints as possible so she can be chosen next 😅

Ooh, I love her working with Kazui on an investigation! The fact that eh may know details on recent crimes (and almost-crimes) is super fun to work with. He's the last person who's going to spill a secret, so the group could go several trials without realizing Kazui had actually heard all about their situation this whole time.

(Getting sidetrack for a sec, I'm suddenly realizing that he and Kotoko may have heard things about the crimes in canon, too. They're a bit unclear about how much time passed between the murders and arriving to Milgram, so maybe he heard some things. I don't know how well-connected Tokyo police departments are, but Yuno, Fuuta, Muu, and Shidou are all nearby. There's definitely a chance he caught word of the vigilante nearby, and she heard about the odd policeman's suicide. Both of them could have heard about the tragic housefire, the disgraced doctor, or horrible schoolgirl murder nearby.)

Anyway, I like that idea of Kazui wracking his brain for any similar cases. Though, if he had, Milgram may have had the foresight to wipe parts of his memory, too. Maybe he does end up using his call to reach out to Hinako and have her look into it from the outside. Sadly, Kotoko seems the type to sacrifice her personal call to reach out to a connection who can help as well. I'll have to think about how closely Jackalope monitors those calls, hm.

I'm going crazy over prisoner investigation team !! Kotoko and Fuuta had the online knowledge to find some good info, and Mikoto and Kazui seem like they'd have a huge network of people they can ask for info and favors from. Haha, I'm torn whether Mahiru would have flirting down to a science or if she'd refuse to do it since it wasn't real love 😂 Still, she's very good at reading people and could definitely help the others charm and bribe their way into some restricted areas. Amane and Haruka can also charm with their innocence/cuteness (though I'm not sure Amane would). Shidou seems very organized, he'd have a plan and backup plan and backup-backup plan ready, no matter what happens. I think it's even funnier, then if Milgram had run several experiments prior. Jackalope would think this was just another runthrough, and for the first time the ten subjects decided to organize together and Cause Problems.

I think there's a beautiful irony in a story featuring ten prisoners planning a jailbreak to save the prison guard...

#milgram #as always thank you for sending 🎬!! these are so fun and big brained ough #lol yeah a fun fact about me is im Such a stickler for canon even in aus like this #the pain of writing a mahiru x boyfriend fic and doing the whole thing without ever saying his name 💀#so i wrote the last chapter of the au as vague as possible so that it had a nice ending but i may go back to make things more accurate when #t3 ends and we (hopefully) find out who es is #i love that this eases some of the pain knowing that es knew exactly what they were getting into :')#and wont be too fucked up upon getting their memories back since they knew it was faked #while also adding extra angst that theyve been there for so long -- theyve spent so much of their childhood within milgram #i was just recently looking at that post about their character locations and had it all marked out on a map #i swear i dont just know that off the top of my head asdfsd #i never realized kazui and kotoko would have outside knowledge >:0 #i really love that concept #between the ten of them they hit so many skill sets -- theyve got the brain and the brawn and the people skills #theyve got intimidation and innocence #theyve got the experience of 40yos and up-to-date kids #theyd be unstoppable -- rip jackalope 😂😂😂#lights camera sing your sins #ask

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daz4i · 9 months

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I'm gonna project all my fucked up brain quirks on that bastard even if it's the last thing i do

#all i want is to hand dazai my personal complicated relationship with pain as a concept in the form of a fic #and for people to go ''omg you're so right this is such an interesting take on him'' and validate me.#but i gotta write 4 more chapters before i do that. rip

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brutal-nemesis · 4 months

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YWDaC: Turns Out, Forever Is a Long Time

Ayo we have FINALLY arrived at the end of Castys's lil pirate misadventure I hope you have enjoyed all of the delicious lore

←Previous - Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: storm at sea activity, mentioned stabbing, suicide for "convenience" (it's not quite the usual level of he doesn't care but it's still not like bro wants to die yk), a little self harm (once again, out of practicality)

What Castys really wanted was to have something for breakfast, but responsibilities came first, so here he was, delivering a message that he could have ordered anyone else to relay, just so he could go back belowdecks and hopefully grab something on the way back, which made him wonder if he should have been given responsibilities in the first place, but oh well, he didn’t put himself in charge. Now, to get this done so he could eat. Castys knocked on the door in front of him, and upon hearing a noise that sounded like a word, he entered. Captain Izogie was sitting with her shirt partially off and her back to him, exposing the bold patterns of white fire ink curling around her dark shoulders. Alfyn was standing behind her with his hands on her bare back, clearly concentrating. It was a sight he’d seen before, but he always felt a little awkward stumbling upon it.

“Uh, sorry, didn’t realize it was woman magic day.”

Izogie laughed a little as she turned her head to look at him. “Is that what you lot call it?”

“Less of a mouthful than whatever Alfyn says.”

Alfyn just sighed. “Estrogen production stimulation?”

Castys nodded. “Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. Anyway, Captain, just thought I’d let you know the sunrise is red this morning, and given the clouds now, we’re all pretty sure it’s gonna storm. And yes,” Castys held up a hand, “preparations are already underway. Just wanted you to be aware.”

Alfyn, finished with Izogie’s treatment, stepped back. “In that case, I have a few things to secure in the med bay. If you’ll excuse me, Captain.”

Izogie nodded as she buttoned her shirt. “Thank you, Alfyn, you’re excused.” He gave Castys a smile as he left. “Thank you as well, Castys.” She gave him a thoughtful look as she pulled her coat on and stood up. “You know, when you first arrived, I wasn’t sure if you were going to last here, but here you are, my first mate, of all things. You’ve grown quite a bit.”

Castys rolled his eyes and smiled, leaning against the doorframe. “Well, yeah, a scared tied up kid rarely looks like he’s gonna amount to anything. And it took you a few years to get that mouth off of me,” he laughed.

“You say that like it’s gone completely,” Izogie said with a glint in her eye, coming up to stand in front of Castys. Despite more than a decade passing, she still towered over Castys, the passage of time only showing in the lines on her face and the gray streaking her hair. He hadn’t grown any taller, but he’d at least gained some muscle and quite a few scars, which was well within the realm of expectation for being a pirate. “Well then, let’s go help out, Castys. This isn’t our first storm, and we need to make sure it won’t be our last.”

“I’d prefer to go down to a sea monster, at least. And I can’t imagine anything short of a hurricane taking you, Captain.”

“I’d like to see one try.”

The storm that night certainly did.

The rain came down in sheets, driven to needlepoints by the harsh winds. It was more difficult than ever to hear the shouts of the crew as reports and orders were passed around, and Castys’s throat was raw from relaying directions to the men at the helm. He was glad for the storm sails, because even though they hadn’t had time to put all of them up, they were still making good progress through the crashing waves. At least, he hoped so.

The ship’s bow pierced through another wall of water, and it was all Castys could do to stay on his feet, holding tight to the rope tied around his waist. Shit, one of the men at the helm had collapsed, and there was no one else to take his place. Castys ran up, grabbing the wheel alongside the others as he continued to keep an eye on the angle of the bow and the oncoming waves. It was fine, he could keep this up even as his arms burned from the strain, the hairs that had escaped from his ponytail blowing in his eyes and sticking to his face, making it even harder to see, the ever-louder thunder overhead drowning out the sound of his own voice. Didn’t matter if things were only getting worse, they had to keep-

CRACK

Everything was too loud, or maybe too quiet, roaring and buzzing, he was pressed up against the soaking wood of the deck and there was a ball of dense, sharp agony buried in his chest, making it hard to breathe, he kept coughing, couldn’t stand, couldn’t see, the blackness was coming, fading in and out, and all of a sudden he was belowdecks, blood and rain puddling around him, hands on his chest, pulling up his shirt, the words muffled, his chin moved up, Alfyn’s eyes were gray and full of fear, he hadn’t seen that expression before, or maybe he had, and maybe he was going to die, here, because of the storm, because he couldn’t breathe, time was up, that was it, those thirty-four years were over and done he wasn’t getting that time back no more tries he was satisfied with that right he had to be he couldn’t have any regrets because he wasn’t supposed to but it would have been nice if…if…

Castys woke up to a vast expanse of yellowish-white, which was not the color he expected the afterlife to be. Upon further inspection, though, it turned out that it was just a sheet over his head. After tossing it off and sitting up, he was greeted by a shrill scream that should have come from a young girl but actually came from Alfyn.

“Chill, dude, you shouldn’t have put that over me if you’d healed me.” Castys narrowed his eyes a bit as he talked. Did his voice always sound like that? Maybe whatever injuries he’d had had damaged his hearing or something. He wasn’t in any pain now, though, so that was good.

“C-Castys you-you’re-how are you-” Alfyn ran over, nearly tackling Castys as he pulled up his tattered shirt to reveal a rather bloodstained but otherwise perfectly fine torso. Castys gave him a weird look, leaning away.

“Uh, you’re the one who fixed whatever it was, weren’t you?” He brushed his wet hair off of his face as he stared down at himself. Why the fuck did he grow his hair out, again? It was annoying as hell like this.

Alfyn shook his head in disbelief. “I didn’t heal you, Castys. You-you were…both of your lungs had collapsed and I-I couldn’t fix it but-” He looked Castys in the eye, frowning. “You…you look different. Younger.” He ran a hand over Castys’s ribs, and Castys was very glad that he was more than used to the medic touching his bare skin. “There’s no scar from what just-”

“Hey, what are you-” Castys yelped as Alfyn forced him to lean forward, pulling up his shirt even more to expose his back.

“You still had scars from your first day, didn’t you? When you were flogged?”

“Uh, I think so? I don’t really make it a hobby to look at my back, so you’d probably know better than me.”

Alfyn sighed, letting go of Castys and standing up. “Well, if they were there before, they’re gone now. You…” He looked around at the patients lying on the cots on the other side of the room. “Do you feel alright, Castys?”

“I think so? I’m not in any pain or anything, but…I dunno, does my voice sound weird to you?” There were a few other things that were bothering him, but he couldn’t really get a solid hold on what they were. He just felt different, his thoughts more scattered, his arms less muscular than he remembered, the persistent ache in his left knee from a battle wound a few years ago completely gone now.

Alfyn nodded slowly. “Now that you mention it, it does seem a little…off.” He frowned again. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you, Castys, but I have more urgent patients to attend to, and I’m going to ask you to stay put until we can get this sorted out.”

“But the s-”

“Fine then, I’m not asking, I’m ordering. Doctor’s orders supersede everything else, you know that. And the storm has almost passed. So stay. Put.”

Castys grumbled and crossed his arms, but he didn’t move to get up. He knew all too well that Alfyn wasn’t above restraining disobedient patients, and he’d rather avoid that today. Bored, he peeked at his chest again. It was very bloody, but there were no injuries anywhere, and poking his ribs didn’t hurt like a bitch, so they weren’t broken or anything. What was weird though was that he still had some scars, just not all of them. The twisted one on his tummy and the clean line over his heart were still there. He slapped a hand on his right cheek and tried very hard to smile, finding that, yup, he still couldn’t really do it on that side, so the remnant of the gash on his face was still there. But the one on his knee, on his arm, and apparently the ones on his back…gone. It didn’t make sense. Unless…

He put a hand over his heart. Every scar he still had now, he’d gotten before…before that day. The day he still didn’t want to believe had happened. Just as he was about to dig up that lovely little box of buried memories, Captain Izogie rushed in, worry etched in her face.

“Alfyn, is it true Castys is-” she laid eyes on Castys and the tension visibly drained from her body. “Oh thank Mydnar.” She walked over and crouched down in front of where he was seated on the floor, eyeing him suspiciously. “What…what did Alfyn do to you? You look like a kid again.”

“Not my fault!” Alfyn called from where he was working on someone’s fucked-up arm.

“Uh, yeah, I, um,” Castys laughed nervously. “It’s my fault. I think. But I’m okay! All the breathing is happening fine.”

Izogie shook her head. “You’re not making any sense. Laias said a broken piece of the mizzen top yard poked a hole through your chest.”

“It did,” Alfyn said, wiping his hands as he walked over. “Both of his lungs were punctured. I worked as quickly as I could after I pulled it out, but…” he swallowed. “Your pulse was gone, Castys.”

“But I…I’m fine. I’m…” He swallowed. Everything was so cold all of a sudden, that was the only reason he’d be shaking like this, right? Had to be. Unsure if he even wanted to know the answer to this question, Castys lifted his shirt, poking at the scar on his stomach. “Alfyn…what if a person was…was stabbed right here. And the knife was dragged and twisted a bit before being pulled out. And then it went,” his finger was over his heart now, “right here. Would that person…would they die?”

Alfyn looked at Castys in slight horror before slowly nodding. “Without medical attention, in a matter of minutes. Possibly less depending on how much the stomach wound had bled and how much damage had been done.”

Every worry line in Izogie’s face stood out more than ever before. “Castys, you-what are you saying? Are those scars-”

“I think so.” Castys dropped his shirt. “At least, from what I can remember. So maybe I…I already died. Before this. All this time I just thought I might be remembering things wrong, but if what Alfyn said about earlier is true, then…and it might explain why I’m…different.”

“So you think you’re some kind of…” the furrow in Alfyn’s brow deepened, “immortal?”

Immortal. The thought was sort of exciting, as ridiculous as it seemed, but it was also sort of terrifying. Why the fuck was he one, anyway, if it was true? He was just Castys, a random pirate with incurable amnesia about his childhood and hadn’t done anything special besides the whole…maybe this was some kind of fucked-up reward for finishing his mission? But then where had-fuck, okay, no more of that, his brain hurt too much. Why think about things when he could get some results?

“Hey, Captain, could you stab me or something? I wanna see what happens.”

Izogie, who was still clearly trying to process whatever the hell was going on, gave him a very concerned look. “No, Castys, what-even if you think you’ll-you’ll come back what if-”

“Well, I should have died twice now. So I feel like I’ve already gotten a second chance if I was going to be dead anyway.” He glanced over at Alfyn. “Could you-”

“I’m a fucking doctor, Castys. My hands aren’t-I can’t. No.” The other pirates cursed pretty much every other word, but coming from Alfyn, that word might as well have been a cannon blast. Seeing that neither of his friends were willing to stab him for science, Castys dropped the idea and let them examine him for a bit before finally getting cleared to go back to his quarters. The crew gave him odd looks as he passed by, just hammering it in even more that he was different somehow. Either that or they’d heard he fucking died and was now walking around perfectly healthy, which was also probably cause for concern.

Once he was alone, he pulled out his sword and looked at his reflection in the blade. From what he could tell in this shitty makeshift mirror, his face did look a lot more youthful than he remembered. The scruff on his chin and his longer hair did make him look a bit older than the age he supposed his body was now, but the beard was itchy and long hair was a pain in the ass. Part of him wanted to hack his ponytail off right now with his knife, but he’d rather not look like a total mess on top of everything else, so he could wait to ask for a haircut tomorrow. He could shave, however, and he felt a lot better once it was done.

Turning the razor over in his hands, Castys wondered if he really would come back to life again if he slit his throat or whatever. Well, only one way to find out. His clothes were already super bloody, anyway, so that wouldn’t be a problem. Here goes nothing, then.

Why were his hands shaking so much? It was just dying, he’d apparently done it before, it was fine, he’d come back, he wasn’t leaving anyone behind, just a quick swipe of the blade and then…then…he’d come back, right? Right. A-and if he didn’t, he’d already cheated death before, so it was only fair for things to end now. Deep breath maybe his last-

The blade moved a little more slowly than he would have liked, a flash of pain before-

Castys opened his eyes. He was still in his cabin, lying on the floor, razor still gripped in his hand, fresh blood warm and sticky on his neck. S-so then…he’d died. And come back. And wasn’t in any pain.

Some sick fascination drove him to slice a deep gash in his arm before turning the blade on his neck again.

He woke up just as healthy as before, no cut in sight.

That settled it, then. Castys…he was immortal. A deep feeling of freedom unlike anything he’d ever known washed over him. He could do anything, go anywhere, not having to worry about wasting his time or being in danger, because fuck that he was immortal nothing would ever stop him again.

Lying in a puddle of his own blood, Castys couldn’t help but laugh.

He got slapped and lectured the next day for testing things out on himself, sure, but it was nothing in the face of his infinite future. He could go on with everyone forever and e-

Kamon left.

Alfyn died.

Izogie retired.

And then, one day, Castys was standing on the deck of the ship, his ship, and he realized he didn’t recognize a single face looking back at him. Well, he recognized them, but he didn’t know them, didn’t remember any of them from his life before the years felt like minutes. There was a divide between them, and he wasn’t sure who put it there.

Immortality was…lonely. Isolating.

Someone else like him had to be out there, right? So he’d look all over, chase down every lead, even an immortal monster or something would do, he just needed-

Castys felt as alone as he was all those years ago, trapped on that deserted island, the passage of time impossible to follow.

But no matter what, he’d find that ship on the horizon.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump @blackrosesandwhump @fanmanga1357-blog @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hearse-song @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen @galaxywhump @starnight-whump @his-unspoken-words @misspelledwitch @suspicious-whumping-egg @pumpkin-spice-whump @painsandconfusion @i-can-even-burn-salad @befuddled-calico-whump @whumpinggrounds @whump-queen @whumpedydump @theelvishcowgirl

#i wrote something #whump #castys #immortal whumpee #pirate whump #suicide for convenience #why is it so hard to write things that arent pain why do people have to talk to each other so much #but uh there you go there's Boy Finds Out lore #ive said it before in like an ask answer but now it is right there in the canon:#castys acts the way he does partly due to the fact that he is mentally 19 and his brain is not fully mature!#he's also just. like that. but he would mellow out some with age for sure #uh what else...oh rip to kamon i was planning on including them more and then it just felt forced so sorry bruh #yes izogie is trans and during this time period HRT is similar to our world where it's something that has to be upkept constantly #it's just a magical procedure instead of a shot #later as shit advances magic will be able to force the endocrine bitches to produce the preferred hormones forever with only one procedure!#it's still a slow process but much less upkeep #i could talk more (you can send an ask if you want me to 🤧) but back to this actual thing #alfyn i just took his name from the octopath apothecary and no one called me out so im doing it myself #poor castys gets so excited about being immortal and then immediately gets hit with the reality of crippling lonliness lmaoooo #i say immediately but it was like 20 years or smth #i can FINALLY work on next erebus chapter oh we are finally at the Place no one will be excited but me

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ghostussy · 1 year

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Forced Bliss

Copia x Insomniac, Chronic Pain reader

/ / /

First off, I am so sorry for the lack of content lately. Life has kicked me in the metaphorical dick about a million times this month. And on top of everything else, I’m dealing with arthritis and depression flare-ups thanks to the changing weather. Please, take this fic as a peace offering. <3

Also if anyone has any advice for managing arthritis throughout the night, it would be greatly appreciated! Mine keeps waking me up and I am tired lol

TW: Mentions of chronic pain, insomnia, high emotions/sobbing, breakdown

. . .

It was late at night when you went for a stroll in the Abbey; much too late for anyone to be awake, save for the ghouls. They were always up to something mischievous; sometimes it seemed as though they never slept. You could hear their faint shouts from down the hall, confirming that they were awake and causing trouble, as usual. The sounds of chaos provided a small comfort, serving as a small reminder that others resided in the building and that you were not alone.

Of course, it was too late for you to be walking throughout the cold Ministry halls as well, and you predicted that Sister Imperator would have your head if she discovered you. Still, you kept walking; you should be in bed, but you found yourself unable to sleep. The few moments of rest you had gotten were fitful, and plagued by nightmares. Of course, these nightmares were unlike the ones you had seen in movies; there was no thrashing, no calling out into the night; and certainly no one to comfort you. You had felt the panic set in slowly, strategically burning at the edges of your mind as you fought through your sleepy haze. Finally, you had woken up, gasping into your pillow. You had clumsily dove to your side table, frantically searching for the switch to your lamp and knocking over anything that got in your way. You felt yourself spill a glass of water, tossing papers, nudging your glasses and medications until they fell onto the floor. By the time you had finally managed to turn on the light, the table and the surrounding area was a mess. You had stared at it for a moment, the panic beginning to subside. Then, you eased yourself onto the floor and began to sob quietly.

After a few moments of this, the room that once provided a sanctuary to you felt suffocating. Now, here you were, walking aimlessly, trying desperately to clear your head.

As you crept down the dim hallways, you noticed how beautiful the Ministry was at night. The moon shone through the windows, casting a faint glow all around you. Altars sat alongside the walls, the still-burning candles illuminating dancing shadows down the hallway. You approached the window, looking outside into the courtyard. You looked up, gazing lovingly into the night sky. It was a clear night, and the stars peppered the sky, almost as if the universe had it’s own set of freckles.

You sat there for a while, longer that you’d intended; eyes transfixed on the sky, you were unaware of your surroundings.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a small cough from behind you.

Turning around, you were met with a very tired-looking Copia, dressed in his usual sweatsuit. His makeup had been washed off, and sleep was in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was soft and gruff, as though he had just been woken up from a deep sleep. “Hello there, cara. May I ask what you are doing out of bed so late?”

You stammered, panicking at having been caught. “O-oh, my deepest apologies, papa! I was simp, ah- simply going for a walk, is all. To, uh, clear my head.”

He continued to look at you with raised eyebrows, and you felt as though he was staring right through you in search of the truth.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted tiredly after a moment. While this wasn’t the only reason to be out of bed, it was still technically the truth.

His gaze softened as he looked at you. “Oh, ragazzo. You poor thing. You must be so tired, si? Come, please let me help you get back to sleep.”

“Oh, no, papa, don’t worry yourself. Please, go back to bed. I will return to my bedroom as well.” You faked a small yawn, hoping he would buy it.

He gently wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and you flinched at the sudden contact. “Little one, you are still shaking. Please, allow me to provide you some comfort.”

You pulled away, and he moved his arm so you could easily do so. “I’m not shaking. I’m okay, papa, really. Thank you for concerning yourself with me, but I am alright.”

He rubbed the side of his face with one hand before looking at you once more. “Y/n. I am an old man, and I am very tired. Let’s cut to the chase; one of my ghouls sold you out. I know that you haven’t been sleeping well, and that you are haunted by nightmares. I also know that tonight has been the worst so far. So please, come lie down with me.” He cupped your face with his ungloved hand. It was warm against your skin, and he rubbed the soft tip of his thumb in circles along your cheek. You melted into the touch, wishing for a moment to be held in his arms; after all, you knew that he would hold you safely and securely, allowing you to sleep soundly for once. After a few seconds, you pulled away, coming back to your senses.

“I-”

“Yes, you can, and you will,” he urged you gently. “Now, come lie down, and get some proper rest for once. That is an order from your papa.”

You sighed in defeat. “Okay.”

. . .

It wasn’t long before Copia had coaxed you into his bed, nestled deep underneath the covers against him. You lay with your head on his chest, arm draped over his stomach. It made you seem needy, clinging to him the way that you did- but you didn’t care. Weeks of poor sleep and nightmares made you desperate, leaving you constantly exhausted. You wondered if you should have fought him a little more, insisted that you were okay and gone back to your bedroom- but part of you was glad to finally be held.

It was dark in his bedroom, but you felt safe in his hold. The two of you laid like that for a while; you found yourself unable to fall asleep, and he refused to rest until you did. Despite being held so gently and being so exhausted, you simply couldn’t sleep. Your mind raced, thinking of anything and everything. What you had done that day, what you would be doing the next day, how you were pulling Copia away from his own precious sleep. You thought of your conversation earlier, how you could have slipped away instead of burdening him with your insomnia. You hoped that in the morning, he would not be too tired to carry out his duties.

After several moments of this, you heard him sigh before he placed a hand on your back. Gently, yet firmly, he rubbed his hand in circles, carefully massaging your tired muscles. He placed his other hand in your hair, combing through it gently and scratching at your scalp. You let out a gentle sigh, wrapping your arm tighter around him and nuzzling your face as close to him as you could get.

“C?”

“Yes, amore?”

Another quiet sigh escaped your lips as he worked into a sore spot. You completely lost your words, only responding with a quiet, “ohhh.”

He let out a small chuckle. “Ah, there we go,” he purred, “I am shutting off that overactive brain of yours. Surely it must be difficult to rest with so many thoughts, si? So please, allow me to assist.” You found his gentle, soothing touches to be overwhelming. Soon, it was all you could think of, and you could do little except lie there and melt into him. Before long, you found yourself fighting sleep, wishing to enjoy the moment longer. Your eyelids fluttered shut, then open, then shut, then open again. “Ah, caro bambino, please. Rest your eyes. I will still be here in the morning; both yours and my own duties are put on hold until you have slept, and slept well. This means that you may rest as long as you need to, child."

"'Kay..." you mumbled into his chest, barely awake. Within seconds, your breathing had evened out, and you had gone lax within his hold. You could feel the exhaustion at the back of your mind, clouding your thoughts as you peered up at him with half-lidded eyes; he looked down at you with adoration, smiling as your eyelids slid shut finally and sleep overcame you.

. . .

You awoke with a gentle start a few hours later, shaking slightly. You noticed it was still dark outside, and groaned in frustration. A familiar pain radiated through the hip you’d slept on, spreading through your leg and into your knee. Looking up, you noticed Copia, who was fast asleep; his face leaning against one of the many pillows he was propped against. His mouth was slightly ajar, soft snores escaping his lips. The shadows underneath his eyes were much clearer now that his face was relaxed completely; you felt terrible for keeping him awake earlier.

One of his hands rested on your back, the other still loosely tangled in your hair. Carefully, you removed yourself from his grasp, whimpering quietly as the pain in your hip increased greatly. He stirred, but didn’t wake as you sat on the edge of the bed. You waited a moment, feeling the pain begin to subside. Flexing your fingers, you could feel that your knuckles were swollen.

You rubbed a fist into your tired eyes. They burned with exhaustion, and you longed for sleep once more; however, you knew that you would most likely not be sleeping again tonight. Every night, it was the same pattern; you would retire early, struggling to sleep for hours; and when you finally found rest, you would awaken only a few hours later in pain. Once you’d awakened, you would be awake the rest of the night. It was a vicious cycle that left you constantly exhausted, and you had grown tired of it long ago.

Tears pricked at the back of your eyes. You quickly rubbed both fists in your eyes, determined not to allow them to fall. You were unsuccessful as your joints ached and your body screamed for sleep. Once they started, you could not stop the steady stream from falling down your cheeks. Once the floodgates had opened, you were suddenly choking back sobs, trying to stay quiet so that you wouldn’t wake the man sleeping close to you. Your whole body shook violently and you doubled over, resting your elbows on your knees and pressing your face into your hands. Your sobs came out forcefully, and you found yourself gasping quietly for air.

“Y/n...?”

Oh, no.

You sat up after hearing his voice. Though you had spoken to him many times, this time it felt... different. You longed once more to be held, for him to soothe you gently. Yet, you had already burdened him with so much. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask so much of him.

Another choked sob forced it’s way out of the back of your throat, and he quickly scrambled out of bed, making his way over to you. He knelt in front of you, taking your hands in his. “Oh, tesoro. What is the matter? Are you unwell? Are you not sleeping well? Please, tell me so that I may help you.”

You were unable to speak; this only worried him further. He reached up and brushed away your tears before pulling you into his embrace. He rubbed your back soothingly, whispering small phrases in a mix of Italian and Latin. You buried your face in his chest, sobbing into him. Weeks of pent-up frustration, sleepless nights, pain, and depression seemed to all come out of you all at once as you cried, tears staining his shirt. He paid this no mind, instead focusing on comforting you as much as he could. You clung to him tightly, as though you had been stranded in the middle of the ocean and he was the only piece of driftwood for miles. Sobs wracked your body, and you shook violently against his strong, steady hold. He truly was your lifeline.

Suddenly, you found your words.

“Cope... Copia...”

“Shh, darling, I’m here for you,” he whispered, “I’m right here, let it out. It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

You gripped his shirt tighter. “I’m sorry- Lord, I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean it, I didn’t- I swear, I’m sorry-” He pulled you closer as you fell into hysterics once more.

“Hey now, none of that, okay? You’re going to be okay, alright? I promise, you will get through this. But I need you to tell me what’s wrong, okay?”

Your head bobbed slightly, and Copia wasn’t sure if you were nodding or on the verge of passing out from exhaustion. Probably both.

The sobs slowed, and you finally started to relax against him. “I’m sorry,” you started, sounding sincere.

“Shh, no more of that, now.” He brushed the hair from your face, and wiped away your remaining tears. “What can I do to help?”

“You’ve already done so much,” your voice was choked, desperate. Still, he pressed on.

“Y/n. I want you to look at me.” When you did so, he felt his heart shatter. The shadows underneath your eyes were a dark, deep shade of purple. He saw many emotions in your eyes, and your face was flushed, a slight red color flooding your tearstained cheeks. “I will always be here for you. I know you are suffering. I need you to tell me how I can alleviate your pain, alright?”

“I... I don’t know.”

“What hurts, child?”

“I just... I’m so tired, papa. And I’m sore from sleeping.”

“Oh, dear. Is it the arthritis?” You nodded in response.

“Okay, I can work with that. How about a quick bath? To sooth those painful joints, yes? Doesn’t that sound nice?”

You leaned further into him, exhaustion evident within your movements. “Yeah...”

“Or would you like to rest instead?”

You hummed in response, not fully awake.

“I’m going to take that to mean that you would like to rest instead.” He cradled you in his arms, moving to place you on the bed. While you were still in his arms, you whimpered, still in pain. “Oh, dear...”

You opened your eyes, leaning up against him slightly. “Sorry. Must’ve drifted off.”

“That’s alright.” He set you back down on the bed. “I am going to get you some painkillers, and a heating pad. Then, in the morning, we will run you a hot bath. Does that sound good?”

“Hm...”

“Excellent.” He laid you back on the bed, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before standing once more. “Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

You laid there for a few moments, fighting to stay awake until Copia returned. For once, you found evading sleep to be difficult; and you were grateful.

Not much time had passed when he returned with a bottle of extra-strength ibuprofen. He handed you three pills, which you took carefully; then he used his arms to support you as he placed a heating pad on your hip. When he crawled back into bed, you wasted no time cozying up next to him once more. Instead of laying your head on his chest, you opted to press yourself close to him as you possibly could; wrapping your arms around him, you curled up in the crook of his arm, tangling your legs together. He chuckled, loving every second of your sleep-deprived clinginess. He ran his hand through your hair once more, enveloping you in his loving embrace. It wasn’t long before you fell asleep once more, and stayed that way.

. . .

@lightbluuestars