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smoke-and-silver · 3 months

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The Ghouls + Rut Season

Headcanons of the Ghouls in rut, as requested! This is for the current + recent ghouls. Happy to do previous eras upon request.

General / All characters:

Ghouls get a shiny horn upgrade just before rut: the outer layers shed as the horns grow bigger . You'll see them rubbing against things and polishing their horns a lot during this time as the outer layers flake off to reveal new horn underneath.

The ghouls are feverish and hot their entire cycle as the rut raises their body temperature.

There's a lot of tussling as their hormones have them clacking horns and sparring like deer. Some brawls can look or sound scary to humans, but it's all in good fun to them. They're just roughhousing to show off.

That's just within the pack, though. If someone outside of the ministry makes a move on their desired mate, it can get pretty gnarly.

Ghouls under the cut. Obviously NSFW.

Aether

The most subtle. A bit flushed and clammy but otherwise you wouldn't guess anything had changed.

It's very easy for him to get distracted, though. You give him a quick hug at breakfast and his cereal bowl is abandoned as he follows after you with his tail flicking.

Quintessence ghouls have a hazy scent during rut, like dark amber. Aether is the most fond of scenting. He does it every time you're canoodling in some secluded corner of the cathedral. He's not possessive, but he likes knowing that the other ghouls smell him on you.

He does get more protective. He's territorial of the ministry, marking the outside pillars with his horns to warn other demons away. Some unfamiliar men visit on business, and he chokes back an instinctual growl that starts to rise from his throat when he sees them shaking hands with you.

He doesn't spar much. One, because he's not generally aggressive, and two, because he's very large, and the other ghouls hesitate to challenge him.

It's an evening in the main hall when he finally flexes a bit. The heat in his veins is getting to him as he watches you from across the room, and a petty spat between two other ghouls is getting loud and irritating.

The demons bump your chair roughly in their scuffle and Aether has had enough. He buts in with his horns and growls at them to "knock it off". His voice is about two octaves deeper than usual. The surprised ghouls stumble back, and then slink away sheepishly.

Well, naturally you want to show your gratitude after that very attractive display, and the room is empty now...

Aurora

The MOST likely to brawl. Her claws are already rated E for Everyone and during rut it's amped up to 11. She'll tussle with anyone. Sometimes she'll sneak up to another ghoul and nip at them just to instigate it.

Remember that it's mostly just play to them. Nothing to worry about. She does LOVE to show off for you though, and is usually the one victorious.

If she were seriously fighting someone you would know, as real threats or serious challengers are quickly cowed by one of her deafening lion-like roars.

She's like a furnace during rut. You can feel the warmth coming off her. Her cheeks are constantly ruddy like she's just ran a mile.

Utterly insatiable. Most every night she's at your door tapping and scratching at it with her claws until you let her in. If she's feeling extra romantic she'll come in through the window instead.

[gore/bloody] Girl will straight up present her defeated opponents to you. The ministry has many enemies and she has much less restraint during rut. She has absolutely presented you with a severed head like a cat leaving a dead bird at its owner's feet.

You can't even help with congregation without seeing her in the pews, waiting to pounce the moment the sermon is over. She waves at you cheekily when you meet her eyes.

Don't think she's not tender! She's incredibly sweet with you every time you make love--and she insists on calling it that, "making love".

When you're not getting hot and heavy she's still locking lips with you. You've both been caught and scolded multiple times for making out when you're supposed to be working. She just needs to feel your hands on her during rut and, you're not opposed to all the extra attention.

Cirrus

Not interested in sparring or wrestling with anyone. Brawling doesn't interest her and if someone threatens you or the ministry she's just going for the throat. There's not much "challenge" to it.

Although... if you seem interested when the other ghouls spar, if she feels like it'll impress you or make you happy... well, she'll do it just to see you get all excited and aroused.

She kind of "takes care of" herself at first, not wanting to burden you with her heightened libido. When you assure her that you can handle it though, all bets are off. She pauses for a moment and starts stepping towards you, backing you against the wall right then and there...

She likes to mark you the most out of everyone. You are absolutely littered with hickeys and lovebites. She thinks it's so pretty to see you laid out naked in front of her with all of her marks on you. It's an added bonus if someone else gets to see it peeking out from your clothes, too.

She likes a little more ceremony to her 'mating' than most ghouls in their delirious lusty ruts, often bringing something to present you with before she drags you off for some privacy, even if it's something as simple as a rose.

But some nights, some nights it all reaches a boil--the hormones, the heat, your scent still clinging to her sheets--and she simply goes feral. She crawls into your bed and takes you wildly, no words even forming on her lips, just deep growls and broken, guttural infernal speech.

Cumulus

She doesn't typically initiate brawls but she's quite excited to participate in them and loves it when someone challenges her. They had better be prepared though because she is the most muscular ghoulette and knows how to use it.

She's especially excited to brawl when you're around and it gives her a chance to impress you. She'll stop mid-fight while she has her opponent pinned and gleefully wave to you, hoping that you're enjoying the show.

Yes, she flexes for you. Everything in her system right now is telling her to impress you and she takes any chance to start removing her shirt to show you the guns.

Oh man, this stage equipment is heavy and she's getting sooo hot moving it around!

Oh no, the windows needed a wash and her shirt is sooo wet! She can't possibly leave it on now.

Not very territorial or anything like some of the others, but very eager to scent you. Her smell is like a spring breeze, like clover, and she loves to rub it on you whenever she can.

She's on you constantly. Doesn't care if you're in the middle of cooking or prayer, she's pulling you flush against her and purring raunchy things in your ear, giggling and nipping at your neck until she's convinced you to have some fun.

She's not private about it. Unless you would prefer otherwise, she likes to show you off right in front of the other ghouls, placing you on the counter right there so she can please you with her strong fingers.

Dewdrop

The poor man is downright feverish the entire cycle. He's flushed and breathing heavily and his hormones and sparring instincts make him snippy with the other males.

Oh, but he's so good for you. He melts into your touch when you hold his face in your hands as if it soothes all the fire in him.

As if he isn't lewd enough on a normal day, he's downright filthy during his rut. He has the most impure ideas for every piece of furniture in the cathedral and he relays them to you in detail.

You two are forcibly excused from mass when he starts feeling you up right in the middle of it. He'd let you have him right there in the aisle if you weren't opposed to it, onlookers be damned.

When you catch him jacking himself off he doesn't stop, he slows down a little to give you a show. He loves to do it while you're watching. You can give him a hand or just sit and watch, either way he's begging you to go further afterwards. He needs you inside of him or needs to be inside of you.

Not super territorial, but he does love sparring. Wrestling with a friend is a good way to blow off steam and he doesn't mind if he looks cool kicking someone's ass and manages to impress you.

It's really hard for him to focus on much else but you when he's flooded with hormones like this. He can't help it. All that's on his mind day and night is feeling you against him and burying himself inside of you.

But when he eats you out or sucks you off, that's when he really loses his mind. He's already so painfully horny and the scent of your sex totally overtakes him and makes his mind hazy. You're not leaving for the night.

Don't hold it against him if he's a little sappier than usual, or if his kisses are a little longer. It's not just about mating; rut makes him needy for comfort and attention too. It takes a lot of energy out of these ghouls, and often leaves them sore, so the extra comfort means a lot to him right now.

Mountain

Obviously the earth ghouls rut the most. The elk of the forest are where the term comes from. He sheds velvet from his horns during the season and the look of blackened demon blood dripping from horns is pretty sick.

His rack is hands down the most impressive and lets him stand up to even Aether in a duel. He is giddy if you compliment the horns, tail flicking around happily knowing his appearance pleases you.

The most territorial, the most willing to brawl, the most protective. Earth ghouls have the strongest rut instinct. It's hard for him to even see you talking to another ghoul without daydreaming about taking you right in front of them. The daydream gets him hard and flustered and he sheepishly approaches you to ask for some "help".

An incident occurs when a visiting diplomat kisses your hand and a hormone-fueled Mountain has him backed up to the wall in seconds, gnarly horns at the man's throat and growls rumbling from deep in the demon's chest.

You manage to soothe him by petting his chest and asking him to stand down. After a few moments he reluctantly releases the man, who scurries off.

His head clears and Mountain quickly apologizes, but honestly, it was the hottest thing ever, and you're pulling him in to make out. By the time the diplomat tattles about being "attacked by a demon" you've already backed Mountain into the nearest chair to ride him.

It's part of his mating display to show that he can provide. He'll lead you out into the woods where he's set up a spot to sit together and brought more food than you can eat, but he's eager to watch you eat it, fill up on it. He hopes if you're satisfied that you'll accept him and let him pleasure you.

Phantom

Poor, poor sweet boy. It hits him the hardest. He is absolutely the most sensitive. Even feeling up his arm or kissing his cheek a few times gets him worked up. Smile at him across the room long enough and he'll get hard, honestly.

He's embarrassed to approach you about it at first, so you'll have to encourage him. He's quite enthusiastic once you reassure him that you don't mind, though.

He finds it fun to engage in some of the sparring matches, but honestly he's kind of inexperienced in fighting and gets thrown around easily. He's such a good sport about it though and he's laughing most of the time, so it puts everyone in a good mood.

His scent is very subtle and his horns pretty simple and small, so he tries to groom himself really nicely, hoping you'll still enjoy his appearance. Maybe puts a little soft perfume or cologne on hoping it will help entice you.

Your scent makes him crazy. It distracts him instantly when you step into the room. He can track you down anywhere in the ministry, every instinct in his body driving him blindly towards the sweet smell. You don't really hear him come in and so you jump a little when his arms slip around you and he buries his face in your neck to breathe you in.

Please let him have you. His voice is low and breathy as he begs you to let him breed you, or to breed him. You feel so warm against him it makes his head swim. His hands are shyly nudging under your shirt as he tells you how badly he needs it.

His libido is highest at night, when the ministry falls quiet. He feels terrible keeping you awake but you're so pretty laid out on your bed with the silver moonlight from your window illuminating your soft body, and he's so painfully hard.

[kink/somno warning] He'd never think of the idea himself, but if you offered to let him relieve his urges while you sleep, he's so grateful. He worships your body with kisses, always cleans you up perfectly, and always showers you with praise and thanks the next morning.

Rain

Pretty flushed and sensitive during his rut, though not so much as Phantom. He's very pliant when you approach him, willing to let you pull him away somewhere or climb up on his lap any time you want.

Beware that he has the most endurance and he will overstimulate and breed the fuck out of you. He's sweet and passionate but there's an unavoidable mess after your long sessions. You both need a bath afterwards and he ends up taking you in there too.

He makes a good little love nest in his room and honestly just keeps you there the whole cycle if you'll allow it. You don't have to do a thing. He'll keep you fed and groom you and all you have to do is lay there and be his good baby and let him pleasure you.

Not much for the sparring like other ghouls but he likes to egg the others on mischievously. Sometimes he'll nip at someone while they're not looking and pin it on another ghoul. Then he'll use the ensuing brawl as a distraction to drag you off somewhere.

--and, sometimes that is literal. When his hormones are really raging he'll just throw you over his shoulder, or bind your hands with the nearest thing he can find and quite literally drag you away, while telling you everything he's about to do once you're secluded.

Your excited giggles and little squeals make his heart flutter.

He is just as excited when you take him just as roughly. You can tie his hands to the headboard and he's already squirming with an eager, breathy "yes, yes!" escaping his lips before you've even climbed atop him.

He is so vocal when you do sink down on his cock and ride him. You're so warm and he's so sensitive right now. He does not care who in the ministry hears his absolutely whorish moans.

Swiss

As if he wasn't already unhinged.

The way he writhes and ruts against the floor on stage? Imagine him flooded with demonic hormones and out of his mind horny.

Wait, that's still how he normally is. Imagine that doubled. Mans will literally grind against your leg like a dog.

He's dying to pleasure you, honestly. It's a common sight to see him on his knees in front of you, panting with his tongue out as he waits for you to ride his face. He wants to drown in the scent of your sex, squished between your thighs.

He is constantly hard, his cock straining against his pants almost 24/7. He'll start to calm down and then he catches your scent on the air and he's stiff again. He tries to wear looser clothes during rut.

Of course, he loves to spar. He's already rowdy on a daily basis, he loooooves when rut rolls around and he gets to roughhouse with the other ghouls. It's a very nice bonus that he gets to show off for you, naturally!

Which brings us to territorial instincts. Swiss is the farthest from aggressive usually, but his rut is strong enough that you get to see more of the truly ghoulish side of him. He's very growly with strangers coming near you. You've never seen that toothy grin twist into a snarl before, but you see it now when you're out in public and some man presses too close to you for Swiss' liking.

You don't think you've ever heard such a noise from him, such a deep and guttural growl, but it... really does something for you. You hurry him home, both for the public's safety and because you need to ride him. He is overjoyed to fulfill your request.

Cumming inside of you is already his favorite thing in the world, if and when you allow him. He will literally beg for it now, his face flushed, sweaty hair clinging to his skin, his voice hoarse. Please let him breed you.

#happy valentine's night to all the freaks still awake #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost the band #ghost band #aether ghoul #aurora ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #phantom ghoul #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul

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tanukibby · 29 days

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Get ready for more ghoul kit headcannon (feel free to share your own. I adore them)

Water ghoul kits squeak like crocodiles

Earth ghoul kits are quiet, they don't usually make sound but a few bleat like a lamb or a deer.

Fire ghoul kits make grunting noises.

Air ghoul kits chirp and whistle.

And Quintessence ghouls mimic the noises other kits make or they don't make noise at all.

Water ghoul kits make the most noise because they're not used to being heard underwater so they don't know when to be quiet. One of the many reasons why they're separated from other kits in the repatriation program.

Just imagine walking into the aquatic nursery and hear

"Squeak squeak sqeak squeak squeak squeak" as all of the water kits just watch you. They also make frog noises if they sleep close to the surface of their aquariums (they sleep in aquariums because kits are more prone to drying out and getting sick than adults.)

Most ghoul kits are fine with whatever element their caretakers are in the Repatriation Program. Water kits, however, need water ghoul caretakers or a multi ghoul with a water ghoul trait for the same reason why they are separated and in aquariums. They will dry out when being handled and in a pouch, especially when in a pouch.

Quintessence ghouls have the potential to handle them without drying them out, but even then they have to take precautions.

Fire ghoul kits aren't as hot as the adults, as in they're lukewarm, so they can be handled comfortably... until they're fussy. They burn hot when they get fussy and have to be handled with oven mitts by non fire ghouls.

Earth kits are often times the biggest out of all the elements, but sometimes that isn't the case. Pebble was always small, even as a kit.

The cuddliest kits are the air and Quintessence kits. That's just how they're brought up. Air kits are used to roosting with nest mates. Quintessence kits are raised communally, they take the saying "it takes a village to raise a child" very literally.

Fire kits aren't the temperamental ones, it's the air kits. Air kits are territorial over things, it's just their nature. They mostly grow out of it.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost #ghost band #ghost bc #headcanon #ghoul kits #ghoul repatriation program #water ghoul kits #fire ghoul kits #air ghoul kits #earth ghoul kits #quintessence ghoul kits

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hwanchaesong · 23 days

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Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels

Synopsis: Love portrayed in different kinds of ways and worlds.

🥀 Heeseung: Sanctuary (Love Epiphany)

genre: angst, smut, fluff

"Will you believe me if I told you that you're my whole sky? Dazzling like the orange sun, prettier than the sinking sunset over the glistening cerulean sea. You are my calm during the night. Will you believe me if I said that from the start to finish, you're the one I've prayed for?"

Preview

🌌 Jay: Chatoyant (Soulmate)

genre: angst, fluff, smut

"Every waking day, I asked the sun to look after your well being. Every sleepless night, I wished for the moon to let you be safe. I implored the whole universe to guide you back to me. Here, in my arms. So I could marry you like I always promised. So you could love me like how I deserve it."

Preview

🪐Jake: Idyllic (Mutual Pining)

genre: fluff, angst, smut

"How many times do I stumble down this dead end? How many times should I meet all these wrong people just to meet the right, destined one? Tell me, how long should I tolerate more of this suffering? When will I be able to leave this hell hole? When the sweet happiness finally has turned into an ugly resentment?"

Preview

❄️ Sunghoon: Quintessence (Forbidden Love)

genre: angst, smut, fluff

"Do my words mean nothing to you unless they are on an old paper, written metaphorically? Are any of my sentences and paragraphs trash just because they don't rhyme poetically? Then, what if we let the stars align tonight, by chance, by fate, by destinies and against all odds, will you allow me to enter your life?"

Preview

🤍 Sunoo: Labyrinth (Unexpected Love)

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive

"These pretty faces won't be the reason why I'll let myself fall in love again. I will not accept someone who brings an unreasonably expensive bouquet only during special occasions. I can't make any promises anymore, not in a tranquil and joyful way. Please forgive me, because if I open my heart again, I don't think I will be ready for it to bleed until I die."

Preview

🍀 Jungwon: Ephemeral (Second Chances)

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

"Were your feelings truly genuine or you just weren't patient enough? Did you really love me or were you in love with the thought of having someone kiss you during your darkest nights, or having someone hold you during your coldest days? The chances that weren't given to you, you only chose me for that, right? Successfully distracting your heart that wasn't meant to take a risk."

Preview

🪷 Riki: Paradox (Enemies to Lovers)

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

"No, not once did I question the moment where I felt like drowning when you decided to walk the other way, turning your back on me. Surprise was the last emotion I felt when someone took my spot once I'm out of the picture. The only thing that is wrong here is me. I made the mistake of asking you the truth, then choosing to believe the untrue."

Preview

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a/n: again, another one that's in my drafts for so long, i had to post this and add to the masterlist ig. feel free to message, send an ask, or comment under this post if you want to be added to the taglist :3

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sentientgolfball · 8 months

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Lessons

I did it. I wrote the damn Swiss/Phantom/Reader that's been rattling in my brain.

18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3051

Tags: degradation, choking, Swiss is a bit of a voyeur, rough Phantom if you squint, irresponsible use of quintessence

Summary: Phantom admits he's never been with a human. You and Swiss share a look before deciding that's about to change.

“Look at just how fucking wet they are.”

“You sure you didn’t bring me a water ghoul?”

Phantom laughed to himself before sliding his fingers between your legs gathering as much slick as he could. You whine when he draws his hand away much too soon. He stares in awe at his fingers, his thought process clear as day on his face. Swiss pushes him lightly with his foot

“Not yet ant. You still don’t know just how delicate humans are.”

You huff a laugh “I’ll show you delicate when I stick my foot up your fuck—“ You were cut off by the tip of Swiss’ tail snaking around to brush lightly over your swollen clit.

“First lesson: humans are so sensitive. It only takes a few touches to get ‘em going” he demonstrates this by letting go of one of your wrists and sliding a finger into your cunt “But it’s a double-edged sword. They’re so easy to overstimulate. Gotta take your time.” He draws his hand back, wiping the slick onto your thigh.

The way he was talking about you like you weren’t even there like you’re nothing more than a tool to teach Phantom how to fuck was only making the pool of slick between your legs worse.

He was right though. Everything felt so hazy. How long has it been? You remember a sloppy make-out session with Phantom as Swiss critiqued while palming himself in the corner. That was a while ago. You may not remember how long the three of you have been at it, but you do remember how you got there.

You snuck into the ghoul den after your shift in the kitchen had ended with an armful of sugary contraband. Siblings weren’t typically allowed in the dens unless personally brought into them, but your job got you a free ticket. It all started when you caught Swiss and Dew trying to break into the kitchens in the middle of the night. After some negotiations including a decent amount of tongue, you settled on a simple deal. You bring them as many pastries as you can carry and they’ll fuck your brains out.

When you had gotten to the den it appeared Swiss was the only one present, so you flopped onto the couch and shared the cakes with him. When you had finished your fill, Swiss had pulled you into his lap mumbling something about needing something sweeter before he licked a stripe from your neck to your jawline. That’s when Phantom walked in. When you noticed him you quickly jumped out of Swiss’ grasp much to his chagrin.

“Do you want some?” Swiss had asked the quintessence ghoul assuming he had been drawn out of his room by the sweet smells of baked goods. This caused him to go rigid with a small blush creeping into his face “I’ve never been with a human…”

You were about ready to clear up the misunderstanding when you caught Swiss’ eyes. You recognized that look and you immediately knew he was going to dig his heels into this. His gaze flicked to you for a moment seeking your permission before he opened his mouth. Fuck it. Your growing grin was all he needed. You and Swiss made a show out of groping and kissing each other for the other ghoul who just stared on slack-jawed shifting himself around in his pants. You three only left for Swiss’ room when Dew and Rain came through the main door

“Oh come on we’ve only had this couch for like a week.” Rain huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Go fuck somewhere else so we can eat in peace or I’ll up your tax.” Dew stuffed a brownie into his mouth not even looking up from the horde of sweets.

That’s how you ended up where you are now. Pressed firm against Swiss’ chest, wrists squeezed between his clawed hands, tail wrapped around one leg to keep you open while Phantom sits crouched in front of you eyes wild, dick painfully erect, shaking with anticipation. He looks up at Swiss with pleading eyes

“Can I taste them? Please?”

“Hands-on learning, I like it. Go right ahead.”

Phantom’s eyes sparked and he dove between your spread legs eagerly licking into you. You cried out and arched against Swiss as he pushed impossibly deeper, swiping his forked tongue from your clit to your slit. He was lapping at you in earnest, filling the room with obscene wet noises. Swiss hissed and bumped Phantom’s head with his knee to get his attention. His head popped up with wide, blown-out pupils and a wet chin. He looked at Swiss with a furrowed brow and a whine deep in his throat.

“What did I say? It’s not like one of the girls. It’s a human.”

Phantom nodded and lowered himself again slowly circling his tongue around your clit before taking it into his mouth and sucking. You gasp and push your hips closer to him to the best of your ability. Swiss chuffs a laugh and wraps an arm tight around your midsection forcing you to keep still.

“See what I mean? Humans are so easy” he brings his lips to your ear pressing a kiss to it “Come on be a good little pet for him. All you have to do is lay there and take it.”

You threw your head onto his shoulder with a moan feeling Phantom’s tongue drag over your hole before carefully pushing in. Part of you wanted to kill Swiss for the little game he was playing, convincing Phantom to go so painfully slow that it had you shaking. The other part of you was too drunk on being brought to the edge and let down over and over again to stop him.

“Tastes fucking amazing.” He pulls back slightly to look up at Swiss for approval

“If you think that’s good, wait for lesson two.”

Phantom looked at him grinning wildly urging him to continue. His tail was beating against the side of the bed rhythmically.

Swiss smiles “Glamour your claws” Phantom does so immediately waiting for more “You’ve been with Cirrus you know what to do from here. Just take it slow, you don’t wanna break em.”

You have half a mind to curse Swiss but the thought quickly dies when you feel Phantom slide a finger inside of you “shit Phantom if you’re gonna touch me then touch me.” You try to cant your hips chasing any friction but Swiss holds you firmly in place.

“Filthy.” He laughs before removing his finger. He brings his hand to his mouth and wraps his tongue around his fingers groaning when he tastes you. He then all at once shoves two of his fingers into you. You cry out trying to snap your thighs shut but Swiss’ tail holds strong.

He tuts “How many times am I gonna have to tell you to go slow.”

Phantom's laugh sends a shiver through you “Aw come on I think they can handle something a little more.”

Swiss growls in warning. Phantom rolls his eyes but compiles, leisurely curling his fingers inside you. He applies pressure to your clit with the pad of his thumb as he drags his fingers against your walls searching for the sweet spot. You bite your lip to stifle the groans threatening to spill, but that quickly changes when he dips his head back down adding his tongue to the mix.

“Sing for him pet. Let him know just how good he is.” Swiss says as he presses kisses into your neck occasionally letting his fangs scrape the skin.

Your free hand shoots to his head grabbing a fist full of hair as he fingers you faster, tongue flicking over your clit in time with his thrusts. He moans at the feeling causing you to shiver at the added vibration. You let out a series of little groans and huffs as you feel yourself being pushed closer to the edge.

“Don’t stop. So fucking close.”

Swiss takes a deep breath and kisses a trail from your neck to your ear “I’ll make it up to you later.” He laughs and bites your lobe. Your brow furrows in confusion for a moment before he speaks again

“Hands off.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Phantom falters for a second not knowing who to listen to before he pulls back and sits up to look at Swiss. You whine pathetically, burying your face into the multi-ghoul’s neck feeling yourself clench around nothing.

“Time for lesson three. Humans go crazy for this one.” Swiss places a firm hand on your stomach. There’s a split second where you can smell ozone. You don’t have enough time to react before the feeling of pure pleasure ripples through you causing you to cum with a string of obscenities.

“What the fuck was that?” Phantom asks in awe looking from your dripping cunt to Swiss’ hand.

“You’re seriously telling me you’ve never once thought to use your quintessence like this?” Phantom shakes his head with a growing smile, fangs poking out of the bottom of his lip.

Swiss smiles and removes his hand from your stomach only to grab Phantom’s and place it there.

“Find the thread and isolate it.”

You can feel the quintessence spark to life on your skin, through your whole body filling every nerve with energy. This lasts for a few seconds before you’re screaming, arching against Swiss’ grasp as you feel nothing but pure overwhelming pleasure ripple through you. Phantom rips his hand away looking genuinely fearful for a moment.

Swiss just chuckles “Neat trick but save that one for Dew. Remember lesson one.”

“Humans are easy.” He says quietly

Swiss nods “All it takes is a little spark.”

You squirm in Swiss’ grasp when Phantom reaches for you again. He stops and folds his hand in his lap not sure what to do. You take a second to catch your breath, your mind fuzzy with the most intense orgasm of your life.

“You wanna stop just say the word.”

You felt like you were underwater. Everything was too much and too little. You needed more. This is why you kept coming to the ghoul den after all, you wanted your brains fucked out and unfortunately for you, you could still think. You settle back against Swiss chest still heaving

“Just lay there and take it right?” You let yourself go slack. Phantom sighs with relief upon seeing that he didn’t actually hurt you. He’s soft for about a second before he grabs your hips and looks you up and down.

“Can I try something?” His gaze flicks to Swiss.

“Depends. Does that something include what I’ve shown you?” He nods a growl forming deep in his throat.

“Consider it your final exam then.”

Phantom barks a laugh “And what if I fail?” The look in his eyes was wild as he squeezed your hips harder. He never removed his gaze from your waiting hole.

“Then I won’t share my toy with you anymore.” Swiss runs a hand up your body cupping and squeezing one of your breasts like he’s showing you off.

Phantom flicks his tongue out with a sick grin on his face that makes your heart speed up. He slowly brings the head of his cock to your entrance stopping only to seek Swiss’ approval. When he’s met with no resistance he pushes in with a guttural moan.

“Fucking shit are all humans this tight?” His chest heaves as he bottoms out pausing to give you a moment to adjust to the feeling of him. You throw your head back against Swiss’ shoulder squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t even realize tears had fallen from the corners until you felt the fork of a tongue lick a stripe up your face. You let out a choked gasp when Phantom starts to move experimentally. He thrusts into you a few times before growling in satisfaction. He grips the leg not currently held by Swiss’ tail hard before throwing it over his shoulder to get a better angle.

Gone is the Phantom that cared about your comfort as he begins to pound into you like this is the last time he’ll ever have sex. Each thrust pushes you harder against Swiss, he grunts with each movement and you swear you can feel a wet spot on your back where his dick is pressed. You let a string of moans leave your throat as Phantom snaps his hips against yours muttering something in Infernal.

He sits back to watch himself fuck into you for a moment before removing his other hand from your hips. He slowly drags the tips of his claws up your abdomen, between your tits before coming to a stop at your throat. He tests the waters by wrapping his nimble fingers around your neck without any pressure. You gaze up at him with big pleading eyes that practically throw him over the edge. He begins to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, squeezing and releasing in time with his thrusts.

“Such a fucking freak. Risking your job to get some demon dick. I bet you’d like it if I did this.” He punctuates his sentence by squeezing hard around your neck and holding it, forcing you to open your mouth in a silent scream in an attempt to get air. He only releases the pressure when your eyes start to flutter closed with tears spilling out.

He laughs “I can see why you like fucking humans so much.” Swiss only groans in response too lost in his own haze of lust to keep up the role of teacher. He keeps his hand secure around your neck causing you to clench around him. He moans loud and low, hips faltering as his orgasm creeps closer to him.

Suddenly the air is once more filled with the smell of ozone as Phantom’s quintessence sparks to life. The pressure returns to your throat as you feel his magic course through every vein in your body. Your eyes snap open as you scream silently grabbing onto Swiss’ arm for support as your vision blurs from the lack of oxygen and the force of your orgasm.

“Look Swiss no hands.” He grunts as his brows furrow as he concentrates on fucking you through the waves of pleasure and keeping his quintessence flowing into you. Both his hands are squeezing bruises into your hips before suddenly you’re empty and all you can feel is his cum splashing onto your stomach practically reaching your chest.

He takes a brief moment to catch his breath before snapping his fingers. You take in a gulp of air as the feeling of the pressure around your neck disappears. You stare up at the ceiling chest heaving as you come down from your high.

“What the fuck was that?” Swiss asks in awe mirroring your own thoughts.

Phantom smiles proudly at the tone of the multi-ghouls voice “Told you I wanted to try something.”

“You’re so showing me how to do that.” This causes Phantom’s tail to beat against the side of the bed. There’s a bit of a dusty blush creeping onto his face.

“Can we please save the magical choking contest for another night? I think I’ll die if I cum again.” This earns a laugh and a sweet, chaste kiss from Swiss, but Phantom looks genuinely mortified. You feel a prickle of guilt reaching up with a shaky hand to guide his lips to yours. You give him a kiss before pulling back and kissing his nose. A purr kicks up in his chest immediately as he softens.

Swiss brings a hand to Phantom’s head and gives it a scratch “Now it's time for lesson four.”

You’re about to protest when you’re suddenly lifted by the multi-ghoul.

“Swiss what the hell?!”

“Oh I’m sorry I didn’t realize you wanted to lay in cum and sweat all night please forgive me”

You squeal and cling to his neck when he makes an over-exaggerated move to put you down “That's what I thought.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as he carries you to the bathroom connected to his bedroom, Phantom hot on his heels.

He gets the bath ready setting out all your favorite soaps and explaining to Phantom the use of bath salts. The tub is only big enough for two of you to soak comfortably so you end up curled against the quintessence ghoul as Swiss scrubs your hair from the side of the bath. Phantom hasn’t stopped purring or asking if everything was okay, that he didn’t hurt you. You attempt to quell the little ghoul’s worry with a few soft kisses to his chest. While this does shut him up, you’re well aware of the occasional pop of magic filling you with relaxation.

I’m going to kill Swiss for making him think I’d break you think to yourself, wait…oh shit Swiss.

You raise your head from Phantom’s chest and look at the multi-ghoul who was gathering towels for when the two of you were finished.

“What?” He tilts his head with a smile.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

Your eyes flick down to his half-hard dick. He chuckles when he realizes.

“Don’t even think about it. I’m a big ghoul I can take care of myself,” He kisses you before you can protest “Besides, I gotta have something left in me for when I walk back out there and Dew has inevitably eaten the rest of the stash.” You huff when he winks at you and resign yourself to cuddling with Phantom.

You two stay in the bath until the water cools, but at this point, you’re hardly conscious. The two ghouls have to practically drag you up and out of the tub and into some clothes. Phantom flops into the bed and pulls you close to him, wrapping his tail around your waist as you bury your head into the crook of his neck. Swiss presses a kiss to your temple and passes a hand through Phantom’s hair before throwing on his sweatpants and leaving the room. The last thing you hear before passing out is a muffled yelp and a “Told you he’d be pissed.”

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #phantom ghoul #nameless ghoul x reader #swiss x phantom #mdni #ghost fic #the band ghost fic #golfball writes

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divine-misfortune · 10 months

Text

Swiss had reached out and playfully ruffled his sweaty hair after Phantom pulled his helmet off. He grinned broadly as he praised him for his first ritual, and like his enthusiasm was contagious, Phantom found himself smiling, smiling stupidly at that. The little chuckle Swiss spared made something warm settle in his chest. Easily warding off the pinpricks of doubt.

When he withdrew to continue on backstage, Phantom physically sagged. He almost reached out to grab Swiss by the wrist. But he didn't. He had enough self control to keep his hand at his side, even if his fingers still twitched with a pitiful need. Despite that restraint, Swiss still noticed the poor bug's face fall when he moved on from him, the flicker of disappointment from the corner of his eye was almost missable.

And later on the bus when the buzz of adrenaline in the air had seemingly died down as most of the other ghouls had either slipped off to bed or were forcibly dragged into a bunk for, as Mountain called it, mandatory cuddle time, Phantom couldn't even think of sleeping.

The quintessence ghoul was wired. He'd barely forced himself to stop pacing the length of the bus, brain far too busy for rest. Without the distraction of the others, Phantom was left in a weirdly sharp silence. There was too much room for him to think, and nothing coming to mind was remotely pleasant.

Mistakes, too many of them to be acceptable. All of his sharp notes and missed cues were digging away at him, leaving a gaping pit in his gut. He'd been warned that there were big shoes to fill, but it felt like he'd hardly even stepped into them. Disappointment itched under his skin and he busied his hands repeatedly combing through the ends of his hair in an attempt to self soothe. It barely did the job but it was something to focus on.

Padding up and down the narrow aisle between the bunks eventually earned him the attention of a very groggy multi ghoul. The thin, and honestly sorry excuse of a privacy curtain was tugged back and Swiss' head poked out. He looked just as tired as Phantom felt.

"Hey," Swiss whispered as he propped himself up on his elbow, head lolling heavily towards his pillow like he just might sink back into it at any second "Surprised you aren't sleeping, Rora straight up passed out the second we got on the bus."

"...Can't sleep." Phantom shrugged and twisted a loose strand of white hair around his index finger, "sorry if I woke you."

"Hadn't nodded off just yet..." Judging from the lazy way he blinked, he was lying. "You okay?"

Phantom opened his mouth but felt his throat unwillingly tighten before any sound could get out.

I fucked it up. I ruined the first fucking song. Copia hasn't said a word to me since before we got on stage.

He didn't trust himself to speak like this. Not while his brain felt like tearing itself apart. He bit the inside of his cheek and shrugged again, a feeble smile forced onto his face. It surely didn't meet his eyes.

Swiss frowned.

"Wanna talk about it?" He shook his head abruptly and Swiss's brow furrowed for a moment in thought before patting the edge of the bed. "Okay, we don't need to talk then, c'mere."

Phantom paused fully, even the restless way he combed through his hair stilled. He tipped his head.

"Trust me?"

For a moment Phantom rocked back on his heels. He could very well shake his head again and slink back to his own bunk. Curl up against the wall and keep his problems to himself. There were a dozen or so more rituals to get through, he couldn't just go crawling back to his pack mates like some sad kit every time he made a mistake. He needed to learn to live with it.

But Swiss looked at him kindly. He waited patiently in the silence that Phantom was allowing to drag on. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took a step forward and felt a faint heat in his cheeks when that same grin made a reappearance. More lopsided this time, but it held the same sort of warmth to it.

It was an awkward fit, getting them both in such a narrow space when Swiss was bigger and broader than Phantom in most senses, but Swiss dutifully pressed his back to the wall and allowed him the space to get comfortable. They'd never been close like this as far as Phantom could recall, and he hoped Swiss couldn't hear the way his pulse rattled in his rib cage. Even in the dark, he could see the fine details of the older ghoul's face. Most notably, the way decades of joy had etched soft lines around his eyes and mouth. Part of him wanted to reach out, touch them delicately, and hope for the same in time. He chose to keep his hands clutched to his chest instead.

Phantom inhaled shakily as he settled under the blankets and tried not to pay much attention to the sweet musky smell that washed over him. Gentle waves of something oddly comforting pulling the tension from his shoulders.

"Hi," Swiss hummed. He seemed pleased with himself, watching the quintessence ghoul through heavily lidded eyes.

"...Thought we didn't have to talk."

The multi ghoul chuckled under his breath with a nod, "I did, didn't I? One more question and no more words, deal?"

"I guess."

"Is it okay if I touch you?"

Phantom felt his stomach flip in the hollow space it seemed to exist in. There was a sudden spike in his gut, not exactly anxiety but close enough to panic for him to notice. He fidgeted with the collar of his shirt.

"Y...Yeah."

Uncertainty left a sour taste in his mouth, but the quintessence ghoul held his breath and waited. Waited for the wandering hand that was inevitably find its way past the elastic of his boxers and to where he was most vulnerable. Would that make him feel better? To let Swiss guide him towards exhaustion with a loose fist and a certain brand of filth he wasn't accustomed to? The idea did nothing to ease a swelling anxiety but Phantom was certain Swiss knew best. At least knew better than him, and he trusted the older ghoul to care for him in his stint of weakness.

In all the months Phantom had been topside, this was the first true unguarded moment he'd allowed himself in front of another ghoul. It felt like showing his belly, an uncomfortable display of submission and weakness. He couldn't keep Swiss' overly warm gaze when he slipped an arm over his waist. Large hand laid flat on the space between his shoulder blades, an almost laughable reminder of how small he was - how small he felt. What little space had been between them was closed, and suddenly Swiss was encompassing him fully. There was nothing to focus on besides Swiss. Heat pulsed in his cheeks and he opted to hide behind his eyelids.

Phantom wasn't sure what was coming. His skin prickled underneath Swiss' touch as it drifted. Even through a barrier of fabric the sensation was too vivid. Surely Swiss could feel his muscles going tought.

But Swiss didn't mention it, and his hand found a home in the little ghoul's dark hair. Unglamored claws grazed the nape of his neck before scratching lightly at the base of his skull. He braced himself for the mean grip that he'd been told Swiss liked to take but that firm hand never came.

There was something cautious in the way Swiss held him, like he was fragile. Valued, even.

He kissed the space between his horns, and Phantom realized he was shaking. Kindness was not a foreign concept to the little ghoul. It still somehow took him by surprise. Such a slow and careful display of affection. How was he supposed to react? All he could think to do was clutch onto Swiss' shirt like a lifeline.

"Oh bug..." The multi ghoul was frowning. He could hear the sad cadence in his voice. "I've got you, you're okay..."

It was like he'd given Phantom the permission to break because it hit him like a train. A sob tore out of his throat, eager to escape the confines of his vessel. Swiss only shifted closer and allowed him to bury his face into his chest.

"I can't do this-" Phantom hiccuped through his tears and Swiss gently carded his fingers further into his hair. "I can't, I can't, I'm not meant for this. I fucked up, I'm gonna keep fucking up."

"Hey, hey," Swiss squeezed him lightly. "These things aren't meant to be perfect. Nobody expects them to be."

"I ruined it from the first note, and it only got worse from there..."

"We've all made mistakes, I mean...Hell, I sang the chorus during an instrumental section during one of my first shows. And Dew? Dew once fucked up the start of ritual so bad Copia literally mocked him on stage. Little guy was damn near ready to spike his guitar into the ground."

Phantom only attempted to hide further.

"...You know why Rain's name is Rain?"

"No?"

"Because he slipped during his first show, and rain falls down."

He couldn't help the way his quiet laugh made his shoulders shake. Swiss kissed the top of his head this time.

"I'm sure Dew's shown you the video of me falling off my platform at least a dozen times by now."

"...Once or twice."

"See? Mistakes happen. It's your first time, little shadow, you did amazing...We're so proud of you."

Phantom sniffled. His eyes stung and his throat felt tight. Swiss continued the comforting and repetitive drag of his nails over his scalp, a low rumble kicking up in his chest. The quintessence ghoul felt himself truly melting into him.

"You okay?" Swiss asked and rubbed little circles into his back.

"...Tired."

"You wanna go to sleep?"

"Mhm...Can I, um, stay here?"

"Course you can, whatever you want."

Phantom breathed in shakily, peeling himself off of the multi ghoul long enough for him to wipe his eyes. Swiss still looked down at him fondly. Exhaustion present on his face, but fond nonetheless.

"Thank you," he mumbled and allowed Swiss to pull him back in with a tuneless hum. He was just as tired, and Phantom easily slotted himself back into the other ghoul. Wrapped up in his arms, legs tangled together, Phantom could finally let himself rest.

#writing #void writing #phantom ghoul #Swiss ghoul #multi ghoul #nameless ghouls #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost the band #phantom/swiss #swiss/phantom

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anddrewdoesthings · 3 months

Text

Ghoul Anatomy Ref Sheet One Is Done!!

I have no idea how many more of these will be made (I want to do height, hair, ect at some point) But here's sheet one :)

explanation for everything hc wise and such below the cut 🐟

Water:

Water ghouls only have one kind of horn and those being the deep blue fading into a grayish blue, but with some ghouls (first observed in Mist) they will have a slight rainbow affect when the light reflects right (imagine them like those holographic stickers) . Their tails can also have a similar affect. Some ghouls even have blue patches that are bioluminescent and can spread to skin aswell. The most common areas for this are joints and cheeks.

Fire:

There are two different variations for fire ghouls, either white or the red fade variation. This is the most common ghoul type to have two different colored horns. Their tails are sharp and ashen looking, it is very easy to accidentally slice skin with it, for this reason they have unreasonably thick skin that can also withstand their fire.

Quintessence:

The horns seen above are that of a ghoul-kit, and a full grown ghoul. The purple color that ranges from blue-purples to pink-purples darkens as the ghoul gets older, white star like shapes are acommon trait but not guaranteed. Their tails are the same as their horns.

Air:

Air ghouls are by far the lightest colored ghouls (from horns down to skin). The horns take on a greyish-blue to grayish-green color, some appearing nearly all white like the fire ghoul horn type. Tails are a cloud like feel and constantly change shape like the pupils of their eyes.

Earth:

Earth ghouls have either coffee brown or a greenish color. Earth ghouls horns also darken with age. Occasionally the kind of earth ghoul with brown horns will grow vine like plants that wrap around both their tails and horns. Tail ends mimic those long leaves on trees.

Multi:

Multi ghouls are the funnest to work with because of the different possibilities, they can take on any coloration or combination of the different ghouls colors, these ghouls also have the chance with different colored eyes and horns, its still not as common as fire ghouls though. Swiss has light orange fading to grey horns and Aurora has horns that are colors that blend together in a rainbow like fashion. Their tails work the same. The most common base color for eyes are white though.

Hell-Bound:

Yes, fallen angels and hell bound angels exist with my headcannon, they take on the appearance of a ghoul slowly. Wings decay and their skin slowly darkens, horns painfully protrude from their heads and they loose their angelic abilities and get replaced with new demonish ghoul like ones. Though its common for them not to gain any power at all and have the same abilities as a human. A tell tale sign your dealing with a Hell-Bound is their eyes, once golden; now a murky yellow-brown color with pupils that resembled st. peters cross.

Anyways, ill make another post at a later date explaining heights, personality and all the other important things

if you ever want to use my hc's feel free to do so! just tag me or send your posts, I wanna see em >:]

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calxia · 8 months

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As he got closer to the band ghouls, they started to gift him little items and include him in more activities.

Mountain seemed to have started the behaviour when he’d presented Phantom with a small plush plant. The earth ghoul had also provided him with a short list of care instructions, assuring him that the plant was hardy and would easily thrive under Phantom’s loving care. The plant had gradually developed a rich red colour around the edges of the leaves and Phantom could spend hours just gently petting the soft fuzz of its leaves.

Cirrus and Cumulus together had presented him with two blankets at the same time. Cirrus’ was a soft purple with gold stars that she had crocheted for him by hand. The yarn used was velvety and soft, and it was clear to see how much love and care had gone into making it for him. Cumulus’ blanket was green and somehow, she had knitted dinosaurs onto it. Phantom had almost cried when they had pressed the blankets into his arms and insisted that they were just for him, and they didn’t expect anything from him in return. He had actually cried later that night while snuggled up in both blankets.

Aurora and Sunny had dragged him into Aurora’s room and then pressed a box of loose beads into his hands. They told him how they noticed how much he loved the friendship bracelets fans had gotten him and wanted to teach him how to make his own. The three of them had sat in a circle on the floor and made beaded bracelets for hours. The girls knew so many interesting techniques and were happy to show him how to make every design they could think of. They had only stopped making bracelets when Cirrus popped her head around the door to call them for dinner. There was a brand-new box of beads in front of Phantom’s bedroom door the next day and he knew who they were from immediately.

Swiss had been overly friendly to the quintessence ghoul from the very start. He’d immediately welcomed him into the group and seemed to get delight from introducing Phantom to as many new experiences as possible. He’d gifted Phantom a little clay bat early on, which Phantom absolutely adored, and then offered to teach him how to make his very own. They’d managed to get so much clay over the kitchen table that they had gotten a stern telling off from Aether about keeping things tidy, but Phantom had enjoyed making things so much. On most of their days off Phantom could be found making little sculptures, usually with Swiss offering him tips all the way through.

Rain and Dew had taken the longest to warm up to Phantom. For months they would growl at Phantom whenever he tried to interact with him, or even sit in the same room as them. They’d been told off so many times by the others for being overly aggressive with the newest ghoul, but they never listened. The two ghouls would often sit on the den sofa and play video games together. Phantom was enthralled, but they would always be shooed away if they tried to watch what was happening. The only time that he would be able to watch was when other ghouls were about to stop Dew from being rude. The growls eventually stopped and they started letting Phantom have a turn to play. One morning Dew pushes a box into Phantom’s hands and stalks away. Phantom nervously opens the box and inside is a red 3DS XL and a selection of games. Rain told him how it was a gift from both him and Dew, and soon it was rare to see Phantom anywhere without the small console.

Phantom loved being able to have things that showed just how much his pack loved him.

#phantom ghoul #mountain ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #aurora ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #swiss army ghoul #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #ghoul headcanons #ghost headcanons #calxwrites

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forlorn-crows · 10 months

Note

crow. babe. darling. my love.

do you know what i need? i need aeon and dew reluctantly being sweet. all the tension that's hung in the air between them dissolving as one of them sneaks into bed because being alone is too much right now, even if their only option is someone who (they think) hates them.

i know you know what i mean.

oh wow how convenient of an ask. would you look at that. and from my sweet darling mal. however could you have known what i wanted to write today. that is crazy (tee hee)

what is ALSO crazy is APPARENTLY @miasmaghoul and i, onCE AGAIN, have the same braincell and wrote basically the same fucking thing at the same fucking time. no, i literally told her nothing about what i was writing beyond "aeon/dew comfort somethin somethin", and she told me nothing about hers. love you bitch

a little bit of aeon/dew Feelings. breaking down walls and such. @waywardsamaritan inspired me to write them with their fic about dew bein all sweet to aeon.

iimagazh means 'little light' in ghoulish; word so graciously borrowed from mal's big lore brain

Dew flips around for what feels like the hundredth time, smushing his cheek into his pillow with more force than necessary. Sleep continues to slip through his claws like fine sand, leaving a heavy weight of . . . something in its wake. Maybe it’s just insomnia or uncomfortable bus bunks. Maybe it’s the pinprick of emptiness gnawing at the back of his brainstem, a feeling that situated itself there as soon as they left for tour.

He wishes Aether were here. To pull him close with those big, warm arms. Aid his addled mind. Kiss him on his hairline and lull him to sleep with a few well-placed waves of quintessence.

But he’s not.

Instead, Dew stares across the aisle at Aeon’s sleeping form. His eyes roam over his back, bouncing between his wide shoulders. His chest rises and falls evenly in sleep. Lucky bastard, the fire ghoul thinks. Envious. He can almost feel the tug of Aeon’s magick from here, the tiniest tingling at the edges of his awareness. Dew can recognize it well enough, even if it’s not the same brand, so to speak. It’s more subtle than Aether’s, more demure. For as big as his presence is on stage, his magickal footprint is anything but. Aeon’s is more of a low hum, stuck in a tight aura around his vessel. It doesn’t quite warm a room like Aether’s, big in energy and personality as he is. But Dew’s caught the edge of his quintessence enough times to start to get familiar with its calm, yet electric spirals.

It’s dangerously tempting now, even with their strained relationship. Dew clutches the pillow in his arms a little tighter, scoots closer to the edge of the bunk. He could crawl in with Mountain, as he’s done already so many nights prior. Tucked himself into his nest of long limbs, drawing close to the steady, grounding beat of his heart in his rumbling chest. Putting him as close as he can to their oldest bond.

He’s just not Aether. And as much as he hates to admit it, he misses the calming touch of quintessence in general, not just from his mate.

Dew feels vulnerable. Like his longing has cracked open a chasm in his chest and left him open. Wanting.

His body is moving before his brain can ruminate any further. He slips down from his bunk, careful to avoid the creak of the built-in’s edge. Dew pads across the small aisle, standing dumbly in front of Aeon’s bunk. Breathing as quietly as his lungs will allow.

Fuck it.

Deftly, the fire ghoul climbs over Aeon and into his bunk, nearly launching himself into the back wall in effort not to jostle the other ghoul. The quintessence ghoul grumbles a little at the dip in the mattress but doesn't fully wake. Dew situates himself close to his front, moving to curl his limbs into himself so as not to touch. Just enough to be close.

"Hmm . . . iimagazh. . ." Aeon mumbles, pulling the fire ghoul to his chest and throwing a leg over his hips. The lisp of infernal language makes Dew’s breath hitch, let alone the way Aeon easily slots himself against his suddenly over-warm body and presses his nose against the crown of his head, right between the horns, and sighs heavily.

This is not how this was supposed to go. He can’t know it’s Dew. There’s no reason to elicit such an intimate reaction from someone he’s barely even touched beyond a civil handshake. The fire ghoul holds his breath and wishes he could whisk himself back to his bunk.

It only takes a few more moments before Aeon unsurprisingly stirs, brow furrowing as he no doubt inhales the scent of fresh shampoo and burnt spices. The quintessence ghoul lets out a confused chirp, shifting back to blink open his eyes and stare at the ghoul in his arms.

Dew’s eyes are as wide as saucers, fingers curled weakly into Aeon’s sleep shirt. Aeon flicks his gaze all over, realization blooming across his cheeks in the form of a lilac blush, visible even in the dim of the bunk.

“Uh.” He clears his throat weakly. “Thought you were ‘Rora,” Aeon mutters, avoiding Dew’s eyes in the dark. He moves to pull away, but Dew interrupts.

“Is it . . . okay that I’m not?”

Aeon makes a small noise, a cross between surprise and disbelief. He hovers between too far and close enough, breaths as shallow as a rabbit’s. Something unreadable crosses his face, but eventually he relaxes a little. Tentatively rests a hand on Dew’s hip. “S-sure. It’s alright.”

“Okay.”

He’s not sure which of them moves first. But soon after he speaks the word they’re pressed together once more, skinny legs intertwined and Aeon’s arms holding him close. He’s surprisingly dense, if Dew had to choose a word for it. He’s not as big and soft as Aether—he’s closer to Dew’s own physique, with a dash of Rain’s height and limber joints. But there’s still a gentle edge to him, comforting in a different way—smells different too. Like the static in the air before a storm, like cool air and myrrh. Yet underneath the mark of quintessence is something else; sage, a hint of metallic tang, and the smell of sap that bursts from a freshly broken branch. Earthy.

Dew doesn’t want to unpack how that makes him feel right now.

Silence passes between them, broken only by the shuffle of limbs, Mountain's snores from the bunk above, and the dull rumble of the tires on the road.

"Thought you hated me," Aeon whispers.

Dew sighs. Rubs his face into Aeon's shirt. "Don't hate you. M' sorry."

A beat. Then: “I’m glad you don’t.” Dew lifts his head up, face now millimeters from Aeon’s, tips of their noses barely brushing. Copper eyes gaze into dark ashy brown ones, searching. The quintessence ghoul reaches up and brushes a stray strand of hair back behind Dew’s horns, touch feather-light. And though Aeon’s gaze dips down to his mouth, almost imperceptibly, he only leans in to place a chaste kiss to his forehead before tucking his head back under his chin with a slow exhale. In a way, Dew’s thankful for that. He slips his arms around Aeon’s middle, shuffling as close as possible before allowing himself to close his eyes and release the last bit of tension still straightening his spine.

Mountain’s the first one up in the morning, dropping down from his bunk with a soft thud. He’s met with the sight of the two lanky ghouls absolutely tangled up in each other in the same small bunk, Dew notably flung across Aeon’s torso and drooling onto his shoulder. The earth ghoul looks at them with amused shock, fondness tugging at his heart a little.

“Oh ho ho, look what we have—” Swiss is immediately silenced by a well-deserved pillow smack from across the aisle. Mountain frowns at him, miming for the multi ghoul to shut his mouth.

“Not a word,” he hisses. Mountain presses into his mind instead. That, the earth ghoul points to them, is the best sleep he has gotten this entire time.

Swiss holds his hands up in surrender, smirk tugging at his lips. Okay, okay. I’ll let the gremlin and his new friend have their beauty sleep.

#ask #mal #ficlet #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfic #ghost fanfic #fanfic #aeon ghoul #phantom ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #dew/aeon #aeon/dew #phantom/dew #dew/phantom #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #first time writing the new bug how do we feel #hurt/comfort

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insane-brit · 11 months

Text

Royalty (prologue)

Muzan Kibutsuji x Soulmate!fem!reader

Part Links: Prologue, Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter three

Tags/warnings: Enemies to lovers, semi slow burn, dark story/themes, anger, blood, bond seen as sacred (religious terms used), borderline hatred, mentions of Muzan’s wrong deeds.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word count: 672

The thread of fate marked many people’s lives since the beginning of time. It had many names, strand of providence, mortal bind, but no matter the denomination, it would attach itself to every living creature to grace this Earth. Binding their soul to another’s. Searing each other’s quintessence in an unbreakable link. To what daemon created such an inane occurrence, Muzan Kibutsuji did not know. It was engrossing to imagine. A demon, a behemoth to this land having such a foolish rope running from his veins and out into the depths of creation. However, he didn’t have one. Long before becoming this, before becoming perfection he had one. That gossamer thread felt like silk running between his fingers, and then it snapped.

Hundreds of years passed by in the blink of an eye and it never manifested itself again. Naturally, a mortal soul could only prolong itself for so long before its demise. Whoever had been tied to him all those years ago would be nothing but dust in the Earth’s crust. It didn’t matter to him anymore. An insignificant creature tied to him would only serve to be a thorn in his side. A weight he could not take on with the circumstances at hand.

A fascinating reality revealed itself as more and more of these creatures were fabricated by his hand. The progenitor studied their mannerisms, capability, and artistries, and through his own deduction and coercion, gained the knowledge that these organisms soul ties were cut. Upon their transformation, any link they had flowing from their wrist was severed. Just like his was on that day. A remembrance of their humanity, along with their memories exhausted with a puncture and drop of his ichor.

To deprive beings that once thirsted for the connection of another was a whole other power in itself. While he already felt and displayed the hierarchy to all, with him on top, this realization only fueled the fire that smoldered in his core. It gave way to new leverage and means of suffering, and he relished in every second of it.

Which is why he didn’t give much thought to the slight tug accompanied by a tingling sensation that spread under his sleeve. A mere remnant of what used to be. The last bits of what remained of his soul attempting to grasp at the traces of what tied him to his late mortal body. At least, that was his notion until it burned. An odd sensation circulated in his veins, and it felt as if they were swelling. However, when he gripped the cuff and wrenched it towards his elbow, he saw nothing.

The clinks and gurgles of liquid in flasks and tubes resounded throughout the infinity castle as he stared impassively at the sickly skin. Whatever vixen dared to tease the withered bond had better scurry along. The caresses of the wicked were not welcome, and yet a pale red permeated under his wrist. A surge of ecstasy engulfed his mind and body. The consecrated thread unveiled itself from a haze and danced around between his digits. It’s end dwindling as he watched it extend farther away from his position. Its form enveloped in blood.

His frustration reached its peak at this development. Blinding rage boiled his revered blood and escaped through hot breaths. How dare fate have the temerity to send forth this declaration. Was this retribution for his deeds? His arm swept across the table, slamming into the fine glasses, splintering them into millions of pieces. How revolting to be tied to something worthless. The string throbbed under his skin as he seethed. The essence of his supposed other half coated his like candied honey.

The rising temptation to ruin the tie with his sacrilegious acts was weighing heavy on his mind. Yet, he would face eternal torment for attempting to ravage what most would consider a blessed gift.

“Insidious…mutinous thing.”

He ran the tip of his finger along the thread. Letting it slice open the tip to drink in his blood.

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st-danger · 8 months

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Hello hello!

Penny for your thoughts on predator Aeon?

Ohhhhh here have some headcanons!

Aeon is very much a playful sort of ghoul. Likes to tease. Likes to have fun.

Likes to hunt.

Aether doesn't enjoy being chased. Mountain would rather do the chasing. Rain gets nervous, always, makes too many mistakes trying to get away and hide, so it's not as much of a challenge as Aeon would like.

Dew's a slippery one. Fast, incredibly graceful. Whereas Rain is almost guaranteed to trip on a tree branch or some detritus in the forest, Dew doesn't have that issue. What he does have, however, is a shocking lack of awareness when it comes to the feeling of quintessence; you'd think that for as often as he and Aether use that for the most unwholesome of purposes, he'd be a little more attuned to the feeling of magick prickling his skin. Aeon chalks it up to the way the adrenaline from being chased takes centre stage.

Regardless of why he's caught of guard by it every time, he is, and Aeon finds few things more delicious than getting into Dew's head. Rearranging what he sees. What he feels. Just enough warping of reality to confuse. Easy enough to make the forest seem darker. Easy enough to make it sound like there are footsteps from many directions. So easy to make him feel a phantom breath on the back of his neck to make him whip around to face nothing at all. Dew considers it cheating, always gets the most enticing drip of panic from his cursing when he realizes he's being toyed with.

All that adrenaline and will to fight and it never gets him anywhere for long. Sometimes he finishes the hunt quickly, other times he waits until Dew is panting and utterly exhausted, holds the back of his neck and fucks him into the forest floor with little ceremony. Shoves his face into Dew's armpit and smells him when he's sweaty.

Swiss is the other favourite.

Swiss feels the quintessence, and given that he's got a bit of his own threaded through him, it's easier for him to recognize and parse through what's real and what's simply being suggested. He's not immune, but it evens the playing field more.

To Aeon's delight, Swiss is a fighter. Aeon has to work hard to keep up with him, and work even harder to take him down. It's less playing with his victim and more of an actual struggle. Swiss is a lot stronger than he is, and there are only so many shadows for Aeon to hide in before he has to step out of them to finish the job.

The best thing he can do is draw it out.

Create a sense of dread. Wait. Get close enough to him, and give him an out because the sight of Swiss running from him, trying to escape him, gets him blindingly hard. Swiss is good about smelling like fear, too. It might be a game, but he can't stop the natural reaction being hunted elicits. Dew smells of panic, Swiss smells like fear. Aeon could asphyxiate himself on both.

Swiss fights. Aeon laughs and claws and shoves and bites, and Swiss will grab his hair. Slap him if he can.

The thing about hunting Swiss that Aeon likes best is that he doesn't always win.

It's a toss up if Swiss throws him down hard, pins him under thick thighs and wraps a hand around his throat, squeezing just enough to make his eyes grow big, make him struggle. Grinding down onto him, making sure Aeon can feel how hard he is. Demands Aeon open his mouth and show him that little pink tongue so he can spit on it and laugh at him with his legs kick uselessly under him. Tells him in a low, dangerous voice, better luck next time, kiddo.

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netherfeildren · 5 months

Text

The Cassandra Complex : Interlude : Tartarus

Series Masterlist

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence; Torture; Murder; Blood and gore; Self harm; Suicidal ideations; Depression; Unreliable narrator; Alcohol and drug use; Overall very dark themes

A/N: The chapter is what the tags warn. Please, heed them carefully. Short because it's only an interlude, but the next chapter is almost done!

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 3.5K

Read on AO3

INTERLUDE : TARTARUS

Can you eat winter? […] Can you live six months inside a frozen pear? […] Can you punctuate yourself in silence?

Anne Carson, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry

You are captured at the start of the cold season.

The first man you ever killed had been old. Weathered and beaten down by the galaxy and life, and forgotten or absconded to a decrepit and abandoned planet. Once thriving and rich, it had been bled dry and starved by the Empire, and now remained to stand only as a reminder to others as what not to be, a warning of how you’d end up if you did not submit.

Your master had hunted him for months, a mania about the search that was mouth slicked ravenous and vicious. Something sick about the way he’d obsessed about the man, murmuring his name over and over again at all hours until you were sure you knew the vowels and consonants of it better than your own. You’d never discovered the root of the obsession, the reason for the killing, and when you’d finally found him, he was not at all what you’d expected; brittle boned, white of hair, skin soft and folded over so that it sagged and drooped around his frame, seeming to hang around him out of mere sheer habit.

You’d swept into his mind, pilfered and pillaged and violated it; his past, his whole life, his family, cradled in the blink of your eye. You’d pulled his joints from their sockets, his fingernails from their beds, and his eyes from their cavities. You’d taken him apart piece by little piece, a slow going saturation of pain until little remained of the creature. Until the final piece you’d pulled from him was his breath, his very life, swallowed and settled heavy into your own soul.

You had been very young when you’d killed him, a girl of only seven years old.

You’d once heard that stars are made of a different matter than the four worldly elements – a quintessence – that also happens to be what the human psyche is made of. Which is why man’s spirit corresponds to the stars. You’d swallowed so many souls thinking they might be stars during that time. Perhaps, in an attempt to take some light within you, infuse yourself in the goodness of another’s quintessence. Young and naive and untried. You’d learned eventually how wrong you were. The damage you’d unknowingly wrought upon yourself. And when you remember it all now, the unending reaping, you think: I was young once, and you wish you could cling to that child, beg her to forgive you, beg her to run earlier.

Perhaps, that had been the beginning of the end, and everything after that had been nothing more than one eternally futile battle towards inevitable failure.

For some idiotic reason, you return to Corellia after you part ways with him. Idiotic or desperate, who can really tell, but without a doubt, bitter and angry and devastated. Filled with a keen missing and a fury and an outrage that he’d left you, that you’d allowed yourself to be left. That you’d pushed him away. That really, the destruction of everything was your fault. The day it had suddenly hit you that you’d destroyed everything for nothing, that you’d destroyed the two of you for no real reason at all except for petty and inconsequential fear, had been a monumental sort of devastation. You’d not been able to make it out of your dingy rented bed for days afterwards. And so you’d chosen to believe that this was the end of destiny, rather than the beginning of what had always been fated to you. For choosing to believe that you’d destroyed it yourself was better than the truth, that he had never really been meant to be yours in the first place. And if it were anything else, you’d finish it, destroy it to completion. It if was something less, you’d smash it like a rock, tear it as if it were a piece of parchment, but it is not, for it is your heart, your very heart, your memory.

The only thing left.

While you’d been with him you’d thought that you were healing, that you were healed. That you’d been made whole in his image. That after everything, after so much darkness, one single silver flame to illuminate the night would shine a light on your newfound completeness. But you’d realized, later, when it was too late, how wrong you’d been to think so. Love does not mend the torn seams back into rightness – it fractures the whole thing wide open, splits you down the middle.

And you’re so full of the most poisoned sort of regrets, a living, breathing, fire filled thing that seemed to exhume you from your own misery and would not let you exist peacefully in the deathlessness you’d have chosen for yourself. But it was impossible to go backwards now. Like any unloved thing, you’d not been sure if you really existed until he’d put his hands on you, and now, to have been forced to return to that half life, to be forced to exist in the purgatory of his aftermath – it was fury inducing, rage awakening.

All my hurts hurt worse now, and there is no escape and no reprieve, and it always feels as if the sky seems to peer down on me in a strange and pitiful way. How did that feel? It asks. I’m sorry I caused harm, I reply.

Time no longer exists, and so all you know is that it’s been an unknowable amount of nothing since you’d last seen him.

You ache all the time, try and forget, can’t help but remember

You’d always known exactly how it would play out. Step by step the course your life would take – the Force guided you, and yet, you were still lost. You were still confused. You’d known that he would leave, you’d always known. Just as you’d known you would be the reason he left. You’d waited for it, and yet, when the moment arrived for him to go, you were shocked. And hurt. You were hurt that he would leave you even though you had pushed him away, even though you had always expected it to happen, even though you were the perpetrator of your own abandoning and had always known that you would be.

And so, perhaps, you’d continued to return to Corellia despite knowing it was dangerous for you there, that there were whispers of a dark creature scurrying along the planet’s underbelly, that they’d seen your face all that time ago and rumors still abounded. But it had been the last place you’d found each other, and so some idealistic, stupidly desperate part of you thought that, perhaps, fate would look upon you kindly once again. That dark red thread of fate woven into action one more time, ringing taut with purpose and destiny.

Perhaps, you return looking for a fight or a beating or some form of punishment, certain that you’d find it in that cesspool of vice and crime and corruption. In that place that knows what sort of creature you pretend not to be.

Eventually, however, you get more than you’d bargained for. Or maybe, precisely what you’d wanted.

You’re betrayed by a slippery little Twi’lek. One who’d pretended at being interested in some easy, fun drinking and debauchery. One who you were not aware had awaited the return of a prize such as you for a long, long time. One who’d held the image of your face and your power in the cradle of her mind, ravenous for the moment when she’d finally be afforded a taste and a pay out.

If you could not lose yourself in anything else, him, or even something worse – the dark called to you again so often now, it frightened you – then you’d lose yourself in a bottle, a game of Sabacc, even, on occasion, or when things were particularly dire, a little bit of Spice, just to take the edge off. To make you forget. The smell of the past is everywhere, the smell of too many illusions, too many truths, and you try and resist all the time, you feel yourself actively resisting. But you lie in the awareness of it so often, in the miserable hold of rented beds where no comfort and no warmth is ever to be found on so many nights, that at any moment something terrible could happen. It’s not gone, that coldness inside of you. It’s not gone, the dark side, and it calls to you louder now that he is absent.

You consider yourself in new and strange lights now. A miasma of girl and power and tragedy and myth, always, always the myth of you. You are aware of yourself, of that myth, in so many lights.

Violence has changed me; my body has grown cold. Now there is only mind, cautious and dim, with the sense it is being twisted. I have never loved being alive, and it is difficult to remember that I should.

Din has changed me; my heart is half stone, half devoured. The sun has gone away, tucked inside of him, and I am always cold now, and even though I can't see it anymore, him, it’s comforting to know he’s still out there, somewhere. That the sun still exists.

And so, in need of credits, the Twi’lek finds it easier to sell you off to the highest bidder when she first captures you – that being a league of fanatics who had, at the height of the Empire, venerated the Sith as lords – Gods even – who bent the knee to the dark side in hopes of a power greater than they even really knew the truth of.

Drugged and cuffed after you’d been too stupid or uncaring to even try and defend yourself, you let them take you. You let them take you. You remember that first night in the hole in the ground you’d sentenced yourself to, before she’d left you to your fate with your captors, arm broken, bone jutting grotesquely from your skin, she’d looked down at you from her great height as you lay limp and ready for more breaking on the dirty ground of the cell deep in that Tartarean pit, brow split open and drooling crimson, glassy eyes wide and unseeing, filled only with the memories of gleaming metal, she’d called you a monster with the greatest of contempt and hatred in her eyes. And you’d laughed and laughed and laughed at the reality of you now, sanity gone away, only a little bit, only a little bit; after all, there had always been more madness than goodness anyways.

And you’d wanted to cry: I am not a monster! I am not a monster! But you knew she would not believe you.

This is only what you deserve, creature. Spit from her mouth like venom. You think of the Thalassian crone, all that time ago, or only yesterday: How does it feel to be nothing? She was kinder to you than you know this will be, and for a brief moment you pretend to miss her, fantasize with the idea of him coming to save you once again.

You’d wanted to lie and say that you were not a monster any longer, that you’d changed, that you were better, different, but that would have been a lie, for at your core you knew there would always live within you something of a slightly monstrous countenance, no matter what you did or made of yourself. And what you wanted to say, even more than that, was that perhaps a monster was not such a terrible thing to be. Perhaps, if you’d ever been given the chance, you could have served as a shelter and a warning, all at once, for a family you’d never been allowed to have. Perhaps, if you’d ever been given the opportunity to have been that, nothing much else would have really mattered.

You want to tell her his name. To let it serve as proof of the only goodness that has ever lived inside of you. But you do not. And you let them keep you for far too long, lying in that dark, damp hell, letting them hurt you.

She returns often, the pretty, purple Twi’lek with the sharp teeth. She takes Din’s earrings from you, that first day, and if you’d still had tongue and teeth and voice to thank her for the chance to look upon them, you would have.

They pull your skin from your bones and your bones from your skin, over and over again, and you try and lie that you don’t know what you did to deserve this, but you do. You do know. You remember the old man, the very first one, you think of all the countless others after him, the flash of shrieking beskar. You remember every single crime and sin and face and scream. Every scream, but loudest of all, your own.

You exist only in thousands of agonies.

And they’re creative in their torture and punishment, caring in the imagination of it. They burn the flesh from your bones only so that the Force can heal you back to strength. Slowly, excruciatingly, keeping you drugged and chained, diminishing your connection to yourself. Beaten and flogged and savaged over and over again. You think, or you tell yourself, that you feel little of it, or none at all.

More than anything, you feel so acutely how little it all matters.

Why have you done this to yourself? You’re sure you should ask. I don’t know. What is this all about? Be honest. Anger. Are you angry? Yes. You already knew this.

Perhaps, your mind has finally broken and fragmented in a real and irrevocable way. Perhaps, this is finally destiny finding itself.

You lie in the dark and let it hold you as it did when you were a child, alone and enslaved. You watch the water snake through the cracks of the stone walls, and you are so small, and suddenly, there’s a hole in your cheek and you heal and heal and tear apart again; taste the outside air with your newly grown tongue, and the blood that pools in your mouth reminds you that you’re still alive and made of nothing but regret.

You hold one single comfort like a newly blooming flower in your mind, the only thing that remains: We were together once. I forget the rest, before, now, it no longer matters. We were together once.

For an interminable age, you allow yourself to be poked and prodded, cut and flayed, experimented on – the silly notion these cultists hold that perhaps they could harness your power for themselves, bottle it. Hurt, you allow yourself to be hurt for too long. They never break you beyond repair, but they get very close, many times, and sometimes, you hope it’ll be too much, it needs to be too much just once, and then it could, perhaps, all end.

Your bones ache and wounds open where the too sharp edges of you abrade against the too hard stone, and you relish in the healing and reopening, relish in the suffering. You remind yourself that you chose this, that you continue to actively choose this, that all your choices are yours now, even the losses, and you caress that secret piece of you in the furthest, darkest recess of your mind, your lifeline, and it feels so good to finally be in control of the things that hurt you. Even if it is a false sense of control, even if it’s all only a reality of your mind's own making.

And sometimes, when the delirium has sunk its fangs in you entirely, and you almost don’t know who you are, you think: surely he’ll come to get me. He doesn’t know you’re here. Surely I didn’t fall in love with him just for this. He doesn’t know you’re here. If he knew, he’d come, he would, he would.

Two years is a very long time to be away from a thing you need so much.

I no longer care what sound it makes when I am silenced.

Two years is a very long time to forget.

If I die, it is not this life I will miss, it is him I will miss.

But an even longer time to remember.

How to forget? How to forget? How to forget?

Eventually, you lose yourself, and the brightness of torture becomes the brightness of night, and you’re gone within it.

You consider yourself: the myth, the archetype, the soul, me, me, the Cassandra, the Cassandra.

[Scream] [Scream] [Scream] [Scream]

Din.

You cling to him through the night, through the brightness, through the nothing. You dream of his hands and his hair and the vividness of him. You dream of that pure, golden heart. You dream of beskar and space and being loved.

You dream of being loved.

You do not choose the way you live. You do not live; you are not allowed to die.

You don’t know how long you allow yourself to be held within this womb of punishment, but you know that it is a very long time.

And then one day, unbidden and unexpected: one moment, you’re hungry, a strange and cold and gnawing hunger like something you’ve never felt before. A hunger of the soul. Your mind, so hazy that sometimes you don’t know if you remember your own name, that at certain instances the only image you can recall is the gleam of beskar – you smell vetiver and sweat and blaster smoke and the leather oil of his gloves. You hear his voice. The feeling of his hand in yours the second before you wake, and for a single moment before your eyes open, you’re somewhere else besides this damp Tartarus you’ve condemned yourself to, somewhere green and alive with him.

The third time you meet: You blink, and it’s all darkness and steel bars, and then, a dim light far in the distance? No. A blade of silver beskar.

He’s here. Near.

She had said to you once, your now made sweet Twi’lek: You’re going to die here. Surely, not soon. But one day, we’ll pull your life from you. Once we’ve pulled everything else, taken all we can, we’ll take your life too. And then you’ll be nothing, erased from memory, erased from myth. Nothing at all forever.

You’d taken her words with consideration. You felt strongly that you could not die any longer in any way that truly mattered. If nothing more, than for the memory of him, the memory of that togetherness could never be taken from you, it would always exist and could never be killed, and so what more mattered after that? Nothing really. They could take your life, your power, but they could not take Din, they could not take the myth of what the two of you had created together.

And always the myth, always the myth. You understand now, after an age in something worse than darkness, that you are yourself the creation of myth, and myth is indestructible.

She is made sweet and venerating in the end, and she dies so beautifully, your Twi’lek, and in the singular instant before you pull her heart from her chest, you recall her words from before, how like the Thalassian she’d seemed, nothing at all forever, and you tell her the second truth you’ve now come to understand more surely than anything else: “Only a Sith deals in absolutes, and I am no longer a Sith.”

You free yourself from the cruel and unforgiving hands of the dark for the second time in your life.

You’d thought once that you’d never again let yourself be captured, never again enslaved, and to have let yourself end up here like this of your own volition, your own wanton stupidity and miserable desire for punishment, this is the lowest a creature has fallen in a millenia, surely, and he’s on the same planet as you now, and you’re filled with the sudden blinding terror that he’d somehow know you’re here. That he’d find you. And that he should see you like this, brought so low and so broken, it would be worse than anything, any pain or suffering or torture you could have ever endured.

And so you call to that dormant tether you’d held this entire time, to the Force, to yourself, and you kill your captors. All of them. In one fell swoop. Without much of even a single thought on your part. And you thank her, when you pull his stolen, blood splattered earrings from her ears, for teaching you so much, for reminding you that power without conscience is a terrible thing, and that you know this better than anyone. And you walk out into the cold and dark night, silent and obscure as a shadow can be, even more so, if possible, prepared to make your unnoticed escape from him.

But of course, he finds you anyway.

Chapter IX

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