#mountain what do you have behind that drum set

[p1nkcanoe]

love like ghosts… 🙄🤭

full video // context

#I can’t unsee it #just imagine #mountain what do you have behind that drum set #it’s all coming together #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #shitghosting #p1nk thinks #Swiss ghoul #vids

[readychilledwine]

Drumming Song

Summary - 49 long years without your mate finally comes to an end after Amarantha grants him one night of freedom

Warnings- smut, rough oral (mrecving), shadow play, slight angst, impact play, power play, mention of sex magic, occational capitalized word where there shouldn't be (I think I caught them all)

A/N - Listen... there's potential for this to have a second part under the mountain where reader is Rhysand's whore

“Behave,” Tamlin gripped your chin gently. “Pick wisely and preferably from the guard, y/n.”

Lucien snorted behind you, having been the male you had picked the last four Calanmai. You two figured the magic would lead you to him again. A strong, high born male and heir was the obvious choice for the night.

Tamlin looked at Lucien, “Stay near her.” The red-headed male nodded. Gently reaching for your hand to accompany you to the Fires as Tamlin began the Rite.

“What are the odds dearest daring Feyre stays in her room?” You linked your arm to Lucien, leaning into him and staring up at his beautiful face hidden by that fox mask.

“For her sake, she better,” he sighed heavily. “I'd really prefer not to watch your brother and my closest friend fuck my mate.” The stark reminder had your toes curling, thinking of your own mate trapped under that damned Mountain. “Oh you have got to be kidding me,” Lucien looked to the sky, whispering a soft prayer to the Cauldron. “I'll be back.” He motioned with his head towards where Feyre stood with a male.

You shook your head, laughing as Lucien went to her, and the male walked away as he approached. You continued your pathway to the forest, enjoying the feeling of grass on your bare feet.

An almost feline like presence had you pausing as a familiar feeling began to set into your stomach. Calloused hands ran up your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they then moved your hair to the side, “Hello, y/n Darling,” the purr had shivers running your spine as a combination of shocked chill and the heat of the magic began to truly set in.

His scent hit you then causing that faint drumming sound to increase rapidly. Citrus and sea salt mixed with what you knew was the lingering scent of Amarantha.

“What are you doing here, Rhysand?”

You felt him smile into your neck, “Rhysand? Darling, I thought we were way past that?”

It took every fiber in your being, every single ounce of strength you had, but you managed to pull away from him, walking away as you shook him off despite the rhythmic pounding indicating you had Found your partner for the night.

With every footstep away, he took two near, and the drumming grew louder. “If you need to know, I was allowed off my leash tonight to check in.”

You scoffed slightly, picking up pace to head toward your greenhouse, your safe haven. “You mean to drag whomever the poor female Tamlin picks for the night to the false queen to be tortured and murdered?” It was no secret that once every 5 years Amarantha had sent one of the crueler high lord or an Autor to Spring for the poor maiden picked from Calanmai.

Rhys was smirking behind you, knowing you were engaging in a game of chase with him, smiling to himself and knowing he would win. “I do have that unfortunate privilege, yes.” He paused, allowing you to get several paces ahead of him.

Thick silence fell between you two. The air was heavy with magic, with arousal, with the sound of moans and cries while fire cracked distantly in the background.

You had to get away from him before you gave in, caving to every sick whim and desire he had. You took one deep breath, memorizing His scent one more time, and then ran.

Rhys laughed distantly in the background, giving chase to you and easily following every calculated twist and turn.

He caught you exactly where he knew he would, shutting the door to the completely glass greenhouse behind him and locking it.

You felt him grab your wrist, spinning you and walking you to one of the empty walls. His forehead found yours. Those star flecked eyes almost blown out with lust but still somehow sparkling.

The cold glass of the greenhouse met your back as Rhysand held your wrists above your head. "Why are you running from me, little spider lily? As much as I enjoy a game of cat and mouse, we both know my time here is limited."

The heat from Calanmai's magic had begun to spread over your skin, causing the need to be breed, to find some relief to surface. "Tamlin will kill you if he finds you here."

Rhys smirked, his face getting closer to yours, "Your brother was a little preoccupied with a pretty little dark-haired thing in the cave," Soft lips trailed your neck. "And now there's no one else here to save you from me."

He had leaned in so close each syllable was a soft brush of his lips on yours. “Amarantha-” you started softly.

“Will think I fucked you to irritate Tamlin. Nothing more. Nothing less.” Your eyes fluttered shut, relaxing as cool tendrils of darkness began to explore the high slits of your skirt.

Rhys began placing soft kisses along your jawline, hands moving down from your wrists to memorize each inch of skin. One hand stopped on your neck, holding there and squeezing gently. “You should be allowed to wear clothing like this more often. Makes you look like an actual female. Not some cupcake Tamlin had hand decorated.”

You blinked at the lack of clothing you were in. A dress that dipped low in the front with a non-existent back, two large slits that ran both legs up to your hipbones. The fabric was so light that a soft breeze would expose you easily.

“I enjoy my cupcake skirts sometimes. Easy to hide things in,” your mind immediately went to before the Bond between you two snapping, when Lucien had first come to Spring and used sex As a coping mechanism. He and Tamlin had an argument, and he had hidden the table and then under your many layered skirts and ate you out with Tamlin sitting right there.

Rhysand's eyes grew dark, his hand squeezing your throat harder. “You will never think of another male between those pretty thighs once I'm done with you.”

Rhysand brought your lips to him harshly this time. The kiss was a mess of teeth and tongue, leaving you breathless as he began ripping that now offensive dress off.

Without warning, Rhysand turned you, locking your hands behind your back with one hand and forcing your breasts and cheek against the cold glass.

You jumped, gasping loudly as a smack came against your ass. Then another and another leaving you wiggling and moaning. Rhys landed another hard smack, massaging the tender sore skin once he was done and just watched you drip.

You were soaked, and he only made it worse as he ripped your hair back, forcing your back to arch more. “Try to remember I love you, and this, instead of whatever happens when you are dragged under than damn mountain,” it was a soft plea followed by a kiss placed on your temple.

“Always,” you whispered.

“Get on your knees for me,” you could hear him untying his pants, the desperation in his tone. You turned, following his order and trailing your hands down his thighs.

Rhys was quick to collect your wrists, slamming them on the wall behind you and above your head. The position left you completely defenseless as his free hand positioned his cock in front of your lips. “Open.” An easy order to follow again, your eyes meeting his as he pushed in. You hummed at the weight of him on your tongue, the saltiness of his skin. You tried to bob your head, only to be forced to stay in place.

Rhysand just smirked before pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

And now it was clear. He had no intentions of allowing you an ounce of control.

This was his therapy.

His needed release from the horrors he was suffering silently to earn her favor. To keep his court safe. To keep you safe.

Rhys was gentle at first, allowing you to keep up and breathe, tongue running the length of the vein and swirling the head when the opportunity came. That gentleness went out the window once Rhys saw an attor lurking the grounds, and he growled. “I love you,” he whispered one last time. You nodded, swallowing around him, and did the best you could to relax.

He began fucking your throat like you were no more than a doll to him, a lifeless object He could use and abuse. He smiled and moaned with each gag, cock feeling heavier on your tongue and twitching as more spit began to gather at the corners of your mouth. Mascara had begun to run down your face with your tears from the burn and lack of oxygen. "What a pretty mess," he moaned out.

Rhys threw his head back, groaning your name like a prayer as he continued using and abusing you.

You felt something cold running around your thighs and then something running the length of your core. You knew if you stood, there would be a damp spot on the floor. You were twitching and clenching around nothing, eyes locked on the absolute bliss etched into Rhysand's face each time you hallowed your cheeks or swallowed.

You moaned around him as one of those tendrils gently began to play with your clit, offering some relief as he held you with his cock all the way inside of your throat.

“Keep fucking looking at me,” his hand moved from your hair to your throat. Feeling his cock settled in there, feeling you swallowing and attempting to breath around him. “My perfect good girl,” he was breathless himself, pulling back out before going back to his ruthless onslaught of thrusts mixed with prolonged deep throating.

Between his pleasure steady humming down the bond, the snake like darkness dancing around your entrance and clit, and the visual display of Rhysand with his brows knit in pleasure and mouth opened softly, you felt that coil tightening inside of you more and more. “Almost fucking there, y/n,” he panted, your name rolling off his tongue like a deep purr. “Fuck!”

He came from you, whining as that coil began to teeter on a knife edge. Rhys spilled down your throat, “Don't fucking swallow yet. Don't you fucking dare.” He pulled out slightly, working his length with just the tip in your mouth to ensure every drop of him sat waiting.

He pulled out, breathing heavily, “Open your mouth.” Your obedience had his cock twitching, his mind wishing he had time to truly take you, to taste you. He smiled at the sight of his seed lingering in your mouth before leaning down and spitting on your tongue. He forced your jaw shut, kneeling down before you, a hand taking place between your thighs and two fingers entering you.

“Swallow,” he commanded as he began fucking you with his fingers. Scissoring them pressing them, pushing deeper and deeper until he found the spot that had your head thrown back, whining out his name as electricity and warmth shot through your body.

You heard him growl as a thumb found your bundle of nerves, moving in time with his thumb. Your hips began to unknowingly move, riding those two fingers inside of you and chasing your pleasure. “Rhys! Fuck! Please.” You began to beg, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, a mantra one would wake themselves to in the morning.

You couldn't respond, mouth set in a small o, whimpers and moans becoming all you knew as he played your body like his own personal harp. “Cum,” you screamed then, flowers in the greenhouse going from small buds to full blooms as you reached and fell over your peak.

You felt him leaning into your ear. “When I buy you under the mountain, I'm going to fuck you infront of every single fae there. Marking you as mine over and over.” He pulled his fingers out, landing a quick slap to your sensitive pussy before pushing his fingers back in. “You won't even remember your name when I'm done with you down there.”

He worked your core through it, praising you with soft kisses as he kept an eye on Amarantha's creature that had caught his scent. He pulled his fingers from you, holding them to your mouth and watching from his lashes as you eagerly cleaned them.

He released your wrists, pulling his fingers from your mouth, and held eye contact with you. “I have to go,” his voice broke as he said the 4 words you'd been dreading. “I love you. I know I've told you several times tonight, but I love you y/n Darling.”

You nodded, trying to blink the tears away, “I love you too.”

He nodded, kissing you deeply before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours. “I'll see you soon.”

It was a statement that filled you both with dread and a sick sense of joy. Dread for being trapped there, one more tool to use for Tamlin's torment. Joy at the idea of being with Rhys.

He sighed, leaving the greenhouse as you noticed the creature approaching and leaving with it after motioned towards the cave you knew Tamlin's maiden would likely be resting in.

You felt one last tug on the bond. One small ounce of sorrow of longing.

Then it fell silent and cold.

Just like it had been for 49 long years.

💜 General taglist 💜 - Remember to shoot me a message or comment if you would like to be on my general taglist or a tag list for a specific character

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhysand acotar #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhys x you #rhysand x you #rhys x y/n #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x tamlin sister!reader

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Datura Pt 3

Summary: Trapped Under the Mountain you have to decide if it's worth keeping your enemies close.

Content Warnings: Under the Mountain is like a walking trigger warning, but mentions of torture, unnamed character death via the torture; Rhys is an ass but he's a protective ass so we'll allow it.

Author's Note: This part is loooong, needed to set up Part 4 and it made sense in my head to have these bits in one piece before we get to the *cough cough* personal training. Hope you guys enjoy! :)

(Part 1, Part 2)

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There’s no way out.

You bash the only heavy item you can find--a paperweight, tucked into the back of a dust filled drawer--against the air duct, over and over, large chunks of stone flying in every direction, even as the reality of the situation sets in. There are no back doors, no windows, just this slim chance that maybe, maybe you can bash your way out of the rock on sheer force of will.

The paperweights thuds against the stone make your ears ache. Every blow has your shoulder feeling like it might wrench from it’s socket any second, the pain a sharp thrum with every blow, but you can’t stop, if you stop you will think about it and if you start thinking about it, you won’t make it.

The blows land over and over, sometimes you switch arms to try and give yourself a break. You haven’t slept, exhaustion making this tedious, even more so when this escape attempt requires you to balance atop a bedside table that’s seen better days. Chunks of rock fly away from the wall, dust a heavy coat over your skin, your tongue. It’s like swallowing sand.

“Come on!” You beg the wall. The paperweight shutters, bits of metal cracking, denting. You’ve broken your fingernails, torn apart your knuckles trying to get the hunk of engraved metal to push through the rock. This is your only shot, the door’s bolted from the outside, a guard posted beyond. Rhysand, that bastard, had tossed you into this empty, dust ridden room hours ago. You aren’t entirely sure where you are, the journey over here a blur, glimpsed only in flashes as you’d hung over the male’s shoulder, but that’s irrelevant. The only thing that matters now is getting out, getting free. The air duct is more of a slit, carved into the rock wall that makes up your room, barely enough room for to slide your arm into, but you have to hope it gets wider somewhere. You can’t allow yourself to think about what happens if you can’t climb your way out of the room.

The paperweight lands again and again and again, the rhythm steady, the beat not unlike the drums that had gotten you into this mess in the first place. If you lived through this, you’d never go to another Calanmai celebration again. You take all that anger you feel, the helplessness and confusion of the last twenty four hours and channel it into your arm. The wall shudders, but your elusive powers do not flare behind a few wisps of darkness over your bloody knuckles.

“Break!” You snarl like it can hear you, bend to your desperation.

A few more blows and the only thing that breaks is the paperweight, the hunk of metal cracking into three, small pieces. You stare at it as it slips from your hand, scatters across the rock floor.

You know it can’t see you, but you flash your middle fingers at it. “Useless fucking thing,” you hiss as you climb off the bedside table. The room is larger than you anticipated, a bed in the center, the table next to it with a little lamp; there’s a small bathing room with a copper tub, sink and toilet. It’s not really a cell, it’s technically bigger than your room in the farmhouse, but the locked door reminds you it’s not better by any means. The whole place is dark, carved out of rock in the heart of a mountain, as far as you could tell when they brought you in. It might have made more sense if you were upright, but there’s no use dwelling on that now. Dust covers everything, the sheets, the walls, the floor, disturbed by your footprints, and also the bed that you managed to wiggle behind and push in front of the door. The wood was heavy, it had taken all your strength to push it away from the back wall and across the room. It might not do much, but it will be enough to give anyone pause, at least you hope. It’s better than sitting around waiting for them to come back, at the very least.

You go back to the bathroom, pausing briefly to wash the blood from your hands, then slowly study the place, looking for something you missed the first time around. One door, not even a door to the bathing room to lock yourself in if necessary. No more vents. No windows. No cupboards. Very little places to hide unless you feel like hiding under the bed. You go over the space inch by inch, looking for anything else to use to help dig yourself out, but there’s nothing. Not unless a cheap bar or soap of the moth bitten sheets can be used somehow. The base of the lamp looks heavy, but then you’d be working in the dark and that’s not an option.

You’re about to break down and cry when the door opens. Unhindered, because it doesn’t swing in, it swings out, your idea to block the door absolutely useless. From the darkness of the hallway, Rhys stares at you, then the bed, the wooden frame barely up to his chest.

You flash your middle fingers at him too, teeth pulled back in a snarl. If he tries to come in here you really will rip out his throat. He’d deserve it. Bastard. How could he do this to you?

With a smirk, and the flick of Rhys’s wrist, the bed re-centers itself against the far wall. Not even an inconvenience, he’d moved it like it was no effort at all.

Shit.

“Was that supposed to be a barricade?” The door swings shut behind him, the lock clicking ominously into place in the cavernous space. He’s found a new shirt, the one he’d given you earlier stuffed in the corner where you can’t smell the scent of him any longer.

He seats himself on the edge of your bed, making himself comfortable, eyes darting briefly to the new hole in the wall. “Dare I ask?”

You cross your arms over your chest, still barring your teeth. Perhaps Calanmai had turned you into more animal than girl. “It was like that when I got here.”

“Of course,” he says with a shrug, like he knows it’s useless, that you’ll simply tire yourself out, become easier prey.

“What do you want?” You hiss. He doesn’t seem to notice the venom in your tone, the way you make sure there’s distance between the two of you.

“Can’t I be here to make sure you’re comfortable?” He counters.

“What an excellent host you make,” you snarl. “Will you bathe and tuck me in next?”

His violet gaze rakes slowly over you, assessing the bare expanse of your legs, the tattered, mud stained hem of your shift, barely covering you, the barely there straps clinging for dear life to your dirt stained shoulders. It’s intense, you know many fae would melt under it; you might have too, if things had been different, if the sight of him didn’t make you want to hurl something at his head.

“Darling, I’d lick you clean if you asked,” he says lowly.

“Does that shit usually work for you?” You snap back. He’s infuriating. How could you have kissed him?

He grins as he pushes away from the bed, eyes locked on your lips like he’s thinking about that kiss too. “I don’t usually have to resort to it, my good looks and natural charm do most of the work for me.”

“You have the charm of a viper.”

He huffs a laugh, “Cruel, wicked thing.”

His advances have you backing up, until you stumble right into the wall. The rock bites into your shoulder blades as he halts inches from you, close enough that you can feel his warm breath on your face; smell that citrus and jasmine scent of him. You should push him away, give yourself breathing room, but when he’s this close rational thought eddies from your head.

“What do you want?” You repeat, voice shakier than you intend, trying to remind yourself that you’re angry at him, that you don’t want him anywhere near you. It’s his fault you’re in here.

“Her highness wants you trained,” he says like that’s supposed to mean something to you.

All you can do is stare at him.

“She sent word to your father,” he amends. “He’ll be here in three months time.”

You’re suddenly aware of how loud your own heartbeat is.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me? He never bothered to contact me before.” You’re loosing your edge, mind spinning with all the things you could do to try and put some distance between the two of you.

“It seems your Uncle stole you away in the middle of the night,” Rhys explains. “Hybern has been looking for you since.”

“He’s done a shitty job.”

Rhys shrugs as he reaches out a hand to play with a tendril of your hair, curling it around his slender fingers. A cat playing with it’s food; he has no intention of letting you move away from the wall, trapped between the rock and his chest. “He’s eager to see you again, and Her Highness is eager to prove that you’re useful.”

“Why?” Why does Hybern suddenly care about you? Why does the red head care what you do with your powers? Why is this male touching you still and why are you letting him?

“Hybern’s an opportunist,” he says as he brushes the strand behind your ear. “His plans for Prythian might be closer to reality with the right power behind it.”

None of it makes any sense to you.

Rhys must see that on your face because he says, “Hybern made Amarantha. That might not make sense to you yet, but she is what she is because of him. She knows the best way to solidify her position within the world Hybern intends to create is to hand him a weapon already sharp enough to use.”

“So I’m to be a pawn then?”

He shrugs, the hand still against your temple drifting to brush over your cheek, like he can’t help but touch you. “Or you could also be an opportunist.”

You quirk a brow.

“Hybern might just be your only way out of here, Darling.”

“First off, don’t call me that. Second, what if I don’t?”

“You will.”

You shiver.

 “Training isn’t the choice here. The choice is whether you want to see anyone get hurt to make sure it happens.”

“What are you gonna do, torture me?” You hiss.

He brushes a thumb over your lip, violet eyes trained there like he’s thinking about how they felt against his own earlier. “You have people you care about.”

Your heart drops into your stomach.

“She’s already given me the order to find your uncle.” His fingers drift lower, until he’s holding your chin between his forefinger and chin. “Where is he?”

“I’ve been with you,” you growl; his words snap you back to reality. He’s the enemy. You do not want to be this close to the enemy. “How would I know?”

“My spies tell me he packed a bag and left after finding you gone? Did you have a meeting place for emergencies?”

“Eat shit,” you snarl.

 Something brushes against you, like a shadow, but it’s not against your skin, it’s against your mind. The sensation cold, foreign. You blink, pull your head out of his grip to shake your head, shake the feeling off, but it lingers, holding on.

“You don’t even have any fucking shields,” he snarls.

The brush against your mind makes you see things, the farmhouse, your own hands kneading bread, it takes longer than it should for you to realize you’re seeing your own memories play out before you.

“What-” a tavern spins into view, the worn sign clear enough in your eyes that you say the name out loud. It’s a little place, not too far from Spring’s borders, close enough to Autumn that you can get there by foot in half a day. Your uncle had shown you the place as a kid, said that if you’d ever gotten separated from him than you were to go there and wait. If he’d returned home and found the house empty, the first place he’d go was there.

The memory fizzles; the shadow recedes.

Reality slams into you, tears falling from your eyes. What did you just do?

Like he can’t help himself, Rhys brushes a tear off your cheek with his knuckle. “We’ll work on shields first.”

He moves to leave, but you grab him by the front of the shirt. “Wait, please… please don’t do this! I’ll do whatever you want, ok? Just, just leave my uncle out of this.”

It is not cruelty on his face, or judgment, it’s a flash of pain before he straightens, face a mask of perfect indifference as he slides his hand over yours. “As I said, Darling, I would consider your options here carefully.” He pulls your hand away, the lock sliding out of the door on a phantom wind, and then he’s gone.

Only when the lock clicks into place again do you allow yourself to crumple to the floor and cry.

There’s a flower on the bedside table when you finally manage to get up off the floor. It’s the same glowing, violet bud that you had seen in your dreams, the one that had led you right into Rhys’s waiting arms. You pick it up gently, starring at the soft petals, so thin you can almost see through it. It’s beautiful and strange all at once.

Then you take it to the bathroom and flush it down the toilet.

No more stupid flowers, or those damn visions, no more chasing flowers through the woods and trusting stupidly handsome males to protect you. Fuck him and these stupid flowers! They’re to blame for all this mess. A mess you were now dragging your uncle into.

You might have started to spiral again if there wasn't another flower in the first’s place by the time you step back into the main room. As if the one you’d moved had never been there. You stare at it for a long while, then back at the bathroom, the water still running as the toilet flushes, just to make sure you hadn’t imagined removing the first one.

Groaning, you snatch the second one and toss it down the toilet with the first.

There’s a third as quickly and as soundlessly as the other two had arrived.

“You’ve got to be shitting me!” You snatch it off the bedside table and crush it into your hand, the scent of it overwhelming, too strong for any flower not sprouting from the ground to be.

You wipe the remains on the dirty sheets as you sit on the bed, watching the table now, daring a fourth to appear. No one has used the door, the vents aren’t an option, it’s got to be some sort of magic. Unless tables can sprout gardens in this strange mountain dungeon.

As if it knows it’s being watched, no fourth flower appears.

You cross your arms, waiting, challenging it. Minutes tick by. Nothing. Only then do you breath a sigh of relief.

But in the stillness of the room, the lack of entertainment soon becomes suffocating. You try to distract yourself by stripping the sheets off the bed and shaking the dust off of them. You’re obviously going to be sleeping here, might as well make yourself comfortable. But that doesn’t take long.

You push the bed back in front of the door again, it’s failure be damned. At least, if anyone tries to enter while you sleep you'll have a second to get up and move before they get inside.

The bedside table looks lonely without the bed next to it, with a shrug, you decide to move that as well. You’re half way across the room when one of the legs hits a pit in the floor and tips, the lamp bouncing off the floor with a clang that echoes like a death toll in the cavernous space. The movement knocks the slim drawer on the table wide open, a worn book tumbling out across the floor. It definitely hadn't been there earlier when you'd opened it and found the paperweight. The fading title reads Death Gods and Goddesses Through the Ages, in a scrolling font, the author’s name long since legible in the battered leather. There’s less dust on the pages than the rest of the room, like it hasn’t been here quite as long. After collecting the fallen lamp, blissfully not broken, as if is spelled to avoid such things from clumsy creatures like you, and pushing the table against it’s new home on the wall, you sit yourself atop the bed and prop the book open.

The pages are worn, stained, most of the margins filled with hand written notes. A couple of the pages are even book marked.

Long before the first ages of the world, when light was first introduced, the Gods walked the land, unburdened with the weight or mortality. They were before Time. Until the Darkness came and merged with them. Next to the opening paragraph, someone had added the annotation: These are not the same as the Princes from Hel that opened the Portals in the Dark Ages, these are other. Their powers are other.

You shiver and close the book. Who would keep this here?

You draw your fingers over the edges as you process, lip worried between your teeth. It feels like a bad omen, a warning… from the flowers? Your head hurts from all the questions. Are these supposed to be connected? The flowers had led you to the cave, were they leading you to this strange book now too?

You climb under the covers, cold, and then crack the book open again.  

The Darkness took hold, hid Its children in the shadows of the world, rearing its beloved offspring in secret. We did not know to fear them until it was too late. Monsters, they are such terrible monsters. The next note in the margins was a page number that you flipped to, marked with an old slip of paper with swirling marks doodled across it. The High Lords of old consulted with witches and necromancers, priestesses and seers, biding their time, accumulating their knowledge until they were finally able to form a weapon against the Death Gods. At least, that was what they told them. There were those among them who didn’t want the gods removed, they wanted their power to wield, to rule. There’s lists of names, linked in genealogical order of ancient High Lords and bloodlines that had merged with the Death Gods and Goddesses of old. All carefully mapped out. Whoever had owned this book before had done their research, some of the trees branched over onto other pages, the names growing smaller and smaller the longer they went. You don’t have time to read through all of them before the lock on the door groans as it’s moved out of place.

You scramble to hide the book under the mattress before the door opens, though maybe it would have served you just as well as a weapon, because it’s not Rhysand at the door this time.

The soulless black eyes that leer down at you can only belong to the Attor.

It takes seconds for the hulking creature to kick the bed out of the way, the wooden legs screeching as they slash through the rock floor. You don’t even have time to scream, run, as the monster bursts into the room and grabs you by the back of your shift.

“The Queen demands an audience,” it sneers in a voice that sounds like shifting sand.

You flail as it lifts you off the floor like you weigh nothing, begging whatever gods can hear you for help. In a rare flare of power, your claws tear through your fingertips, dark, misty power budding in your palms. You claw at the leather hands holding you, slashing over and over again, splattering blood over the walls.

The Attor snarls, tosses you hard into the wall just outside your door. The impact is jarring, black spots swimming across your eyes, all the air leaving your lungs in a rush. You scramble to get onto your feet, legs unsteady, the room spinning. The cavern like tunnel ahead of you flips and doubles.

“Stupid girl!” It snarls as it reaches for the back of your shift again.

You scramble out of reach, legs wobbly, talons scraping across the walls. You make it all of three steps before the Attor grabs you again. If it’s arms aren’t it’s weak spot you need to hit it somewhere else, but it holds you up out of reach, lesson learned. You reach for the walls instead, punching your talons through the rocks, trying to wrench yourself out of it’s grip by finding something to hold on to.

The terrible shrieking sound your claws make against the rock makes the Attor give you a shake that has your brain rattling around in your skull. “Stop that you little pest!”

More spots swim across your vision, hands slipping off the walls. These last twenty-four hours have made you feel more powerless than you have ever felt in your life. What good are these supposed powers beneath your skin if they don’t even work?

The Attor, on lumbering legs, carries you through dark, twisting tunnels. It’s like walking through a maze, the dark stone walls only lit with torches in sparse intervals. There’s no decorations. Little light. And cold, so damn cold.

The Attors claws scrape against the ground as it walks; you recognize the scrapping sound from the cave in Spring. It had been out hunting you too.

“Where are you taking me?” You dare to ask.

It takes a couple more sharp turns, it’s breathing a heavy hiss behind you as it finally brings you to a set of double, stone doors. They’re taller than even the High Lord’s manor, something you imagined you’d see a cave troll bursting out of in one of your books at home. There is something ancient, sacred about the space as the doors swing open on their own. The chamber ahead of you is cavernous, held up by too many carved pillars to count, all depicting different battles across Prythian’s extensive history. It’s the art work you’ve seen replicated in temples and paintings across the Courts, all supposed to be symbolic, holy, but this…

The floors are made of red marble, like a blood stain; fitting because pinned to the walls are bodies, some human, some fae, some other, all disfigured and mutilated. The contents of your stomach rises into your throat.

The cavern is full of fae, some dancing to the low rumble of music coming from the corner, like no one notices the horrors around them.

At the far end of the space sits a dais, the red headed Queen seated atop it. A glittering dress the shade of her hair hugs her form, a single shard of bone dangling from a string around her neck the centerpiece of the plunging neckline. She sips from a golden chalice, a smudge of red lipstick along the glass, her eyes bored as she surveys the party happening around her. There’s a half dressed male sitting at her feet, head in her lap, her clawed nails drifting absently through his pale hair. A cloud of mirthroot smoke circles him, golden eyes glassy like he has no idea where he is. Rhysand leans against the back of the throne, the only one watching the Attor approach at all. Maybe it is normal to see the gangly creature drag people into the throne room, the party goers certainly don’t notice you.

Amarantha, Rhys had called her, only notices you when the Attor all but hurls you at the base of the dais, your body crumbling against the stairs.

“Her Highness,” the Attor sneers.

The Queen’s grin is cruel as she passes her cup to Rhys, who all but tosses it over his shoulder when she’s not looking. “Quiet!” She barks at the musicians, half hidden in an alcove between pillars. Her voice carries through the room like she had screamed it, the echo in the chamber making the floor shake.

All eyes are suddenly on you as you manage to get back on your feet.

“Rhysand tells me you’re willing to cooperate,” Amarantha says.

You’re very aware of the leering eyes of the crowd as they take you in, still wearing nothing but a shift. The crowd doesn’t get too close, but they’re near enough that you hear the whispers, the laughter. It’s an effort just to swallow. “Yes, I did,” you choke out, intentionally not looking at the male.

Amarantha frowns, “What was that, mouse? I can’t hear you.”

Your cheeks heat; your hands clenching into fists at your sides. “Yes, I will cooperate,” you bite out.

“Hybern will be glad to hear it,” she strokes a hand over the male’s temple, leaving faint pink scratches across his pale skin. He’s too high to notice. “It will be a great victory for the Court to have you back and ready to take your rightful place.”

Rightful place your ass. None of this feels real, right. Your rightful place is with your uncle, trying dozens of new jobs every time his trading business slows, learning new things to make the money stretch. The farmhouse was a new project, a new chance at settling down and not having to live on the road like you had for most of your life. That life was the only thing you had ever known. To be here now, hearing all this talk about war and conquest, with this queen and her court, it was like you’d stepped into a strange dream you couldn’t escape. You’d been trying not to think about it, but faced with it now you didn’t know what to do, say. She was starring at you like she was waiting for you to thank her for ripping the ground out from under you.

Amarantha frowns when you don’t say anything, her hand across the male’s forehead stilling, the eye in the ring on her finger swiveling to look right at you as if it’s a living thing.

“Rhysand,” she snaps, “you had a gift for our guest, didn’t you?”

Rhys looks up from his very important business picking lint off his shoulder. “Right, of course, the gift.”  

The crowd quiets as he descends from the dais and snaps his fingers. At your feet a male appears, bound and gagged with the dark tendrils of Rhys’ magic. The male looks at you pleadingly and though your heart goes out to his plight, you glance up at the other male in confusion. Are you supposed to know who this is?

“Your uncle’s farm hand,” he says with a grand sweep of his hand, all courtly business.

“Since you couldn’t find the kidnapper,” Amarantha hisses.

Rhys slides his hands in his pockets casually, the picture of bored indifference. But his violet eyes are only on you as he says, “This was the only male waiting for her at the Temple she told me about.”

Temple? Your head spins. You hadn’t shown him a temple.

Amarantha pushes the male in her lap away from her as she climbs down the stairs in heels sharp enough to cut. “A little demonstration is in order, don’t you think?”

Rhys steps a little closer to the bound male, but you can’t help but note that he has now positioned himself between you and where Amarantha is poised at the base of the dais.

The male makes a gasping sound before his eyes glaze over, sweat quickly dotting his forehead. Rhys remains with his hands in his pockets, Amarantha giddy at the sight unfurling before her, and even though neither of them move, it’s clear the male is fighting the invisible grip they have on him. You can’t help but think about what the two of them have already done to you.

“Wait,” you protest. Even if you don’t know this male, you don’t want him to suffer. “I already said I would cooperate, this isn’t necessary!”

The male begins to scream, thrash, and the bands of darkness around his wrists and legs dip into the marble floor, pinning him.

The crowd presses in closer to watch; you hear someone start making bets about how long he’ll last.

“This is a little reminder,” Amarantha coos at you, soft enough that the crowd won’t be able to hear it over the screaming. “Of what will happen if you decide you suddenly don’t want to cooperate with my training regime.”

Blood starts to pool in the corner of the male’s eyes.

You can’t stop yourself from stepping forward and grabbing Rhys’s arm. “Please, stop, I get it ok! Let him go. I will do what you ask.”

But louder than your pleading, Amarantha orders, “If he has nothing to give us, kill him.”

The gag slips from the male’s mouth as he turns to look at you with what looks like his last little bit of strength. “Forgive me, Your Highness.”

The sound of bones snapping fills the chamber; the male gurgles on his own blood, and then he slumps lifelessly to the floor.

Tears stream down your cheeks and you yank your hand away from Rhys’s arm, disgusted.

Amarantha waves the Attor over to clean up the mess, even as she says, “You may resume your dancing now.”

As if it never happened, the music starts back up. People start laughing and drinking, the dances not unlike the writhing shapes you had seen in your vision of Calanmai.

She waits until the noise is too loud to be overheard by the crowd to ask, “Did he tell you where her uncle is?”

There’s no chance this stranger knows anything about your uncle. Rhys had lied, but you still find yourself holding your breath, waiting for this to be a trap too. The male certainly acted like he’d known you.

But Rhys says, “I saw a tavern in Winter, I’ll head there-”

“My men will take it from here,” Amarantha interrupts, “I want you here, working on her.”

Rhys bows. “As you wish, My Queen.”

“Escort her back to her room,” Amarantha orders, “I don’t want her back here until we’re sure she can be controlled.”

“Of course,” Rhys moves to take your arm and you duck out of reach.

“I can walk,” you hiss.

He lets his hand fall, slides it back into his pockets.

Amarantha is half way up the dais when she calls back, “I expect quick results.”

He nods in understanding.

“And don’t forget, Rhysand, about the deal you made for this opportunity.”

His eyes darken. “I haven’t.”

As far away from him as you want to be, it’s a relief when he motions for you to move towards the door. The crowd parts for you, some of them outright ignoring you, others leering.

A redheaded male watches the two of you closely, catching Rhys’s eye as you pass.

Rhys snarls something you can’t make out at him.

“Whore,” the other male spits back.

Rhys laughs mirthlessly in response as the doors shut in the other male’s face.

You have questions of course, but the exhaustion of the last twenty-four hours weighs so heavily on you, you almost wish it was the Attor carrying you out. Every footstep is heavy.

Rhys doesn’t speak as he leads you through the maze of tunnels. You should be attempting to learn the path, so if you ever do get out you know where you’re going, but it feels like so much effort. What does it matter in the end? You’re stuck here, at the whim of an evil queen and whatever the hell Rhys is, at least until your supposed father gets here and decides to do Mother knows what with you. Any attempts at escaping, at fighting are useless, not when Rhys knows where to look for him. It’s the reminder that he lied that finally makes you look up from where you’ve been following the cracks in the floor.

“Why’d you do it?” You ask softly.

“Do what?” He counters. He sounds as exhausted as you feel.

You watch the way the shadows of the torchlight bath him in half darkness, the glow of his eyes dimmed here. Everything about him feels dim in these halls, like the mountain has stolen something from him.

“That male-”

He halts at a door that must now belong to you and a bit of magic pulls the door open. “She wants you to know what she will do if she even suspects you’re trying to outsmart her.”

“No,” you shudder thinking about what he had done. How could anybody wield powers like that? “No that’s not what I mean.”

Rhys leans against the doorframe and motions you inside. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me then, Darling.”

You stare at him. He seems to be playing a game unto himself. Whatever his motives are, whatever it has to do with you, he’d not about to admit it here in the hall.

You step into the room, head pounding from all the unanswered questions you have.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he says as the door begins to close.

You don’t want to see him in the morning. He’s a monster who can rip people’s minds apart with a thought, a monster who somehow lured you out of your home and brought you here to his evil queen, but he’s also the monster keeping your secrets, and in places like this, you might need a monster like that on your side. You won’t trust him, not after what he’d done in the cave, but maybe it’s not trust you need in a place like this. Amarantha demands you learn to use your powers, she never said anything about you using them on her.

“I’m counting down the seconds,” you say dryly.

“Dream of me,” he says sweetly.

The door closes before you can snarl that you’ve dreamed of him enough.

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

Tag List: @mariahoedt, @llovelydove, @twsssmlmaa

If anyone else wants to be added to the taglist feel free to let me know :)

#rhysand x reader #rhysand x reader smut #rhysand acotar #acotar fic #acotar smut #fanfic #my writing #datura series #rhysand fanfic #utm!rhys #utm!rhys x reader

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 7: First Kiss

Weeks of Mountain and Rain dancing around each other come to a head.

Much thanks to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and to @ghuleh-recs for making the dividers <3

He/they pronouns for Rain

They dance around each other for weeks. Mountain still reeling from the sudden, bone deep rift that came with the death of the Papa that summoned him, the forced retirement of the majority of his pack, and Rain still learning how to exist outside of the Pits.

It doesn't stop them from starting to gravitate towards each other. They are both part of the rhythm section, after all. They share glances through silver masks, sapphire to emerald, while Copia instructs the other ghouls. They pretend it isn't happening, but after a while, it's completely undeniable. Of course, they don't talk about it, but it is happening, there's something there and Mountain's not certain what it is.

Aether clings to Dew after it all, having already been clingy before everything had Happened. Mountain doesn't blame him, not at all, but it means that he's alone for the first time since the Pit.

The water ghoul approaches him after one practice, the tour looming ahead of them. His bass is held in nervous fingers as he wanders back towards Mountain's kit on its riser, Copia and the other ghouls filtering out of the practice room.

"I'm-" Rain starts, swallowing hard; Mountain sees the way their throat works. "I'm having trouble with Pinnacle. Could we run it? Me and you?"

Mountain freezes, halfway through packing up his sticks. He wasn't certain what they were going to say, but this wasn't exactly it. He turns to the water ghoul, his eyes wide. "Of course," he says, feeling his cheeks start to heat against the metal covering his face. "What part's givin' you trouble?"

"The section after the first chorus is... Difficult," Rain says, tone a little strange, but Mountain pays it no mind. His attention is drawn to the way Rain scuffs his shoe against the practice room floor.

Mountain opens his mouth to speak, ready to point Rain in Dewdrop's direction, knows that Dew knows the Pinnacle bassline front and back, but shuts his mouth. He glances around at the otherwise empty practice room before taking his mask off, setting down beside his kit. His glamour fades slightly, rolling his neck to ease the crick in his spine as he sheds some of the magick.

He looks at them, earnest and happy to help. He settles back onto his stool. "Start from the chorus, alright? We'll work through it."

Rain nods, awkwardly taking his own mask and setting it on a storage crate. He sets his hands on the frets, long, elegant fingers hidden behind a pale human glamour. It fades, revealing powder-blue skin. Rain takes a deep breath, eyes locked on Mountain's, and they start.

Mountain helps them work through Pinnacle the best he can. He's never considered himself a great teacher, but he has played this song in front of thousands of screaming humans, what feels like hundreds of times.

They're not in front of anyone now, just each other. And Mountain wouldn't call Rain shy. He's seen the glint in their eyes, the sharp snap of teeth. He's not shy, they're just new. Mountain remembers being new as he watches Rain work his way through the bridge.

As they both play, Mountain comes to a sudden realization: Rain knows this part. They know it. He's not sure if it's a confidence thing that made them come to him, or something else, but Rain wanted to play it with him. He looks at them as they start to lose themself in the music.

It's just them, two thirds of the rhythm section. This feels right. Mountain feels the kick drum in his chest in a way he hasn't felt in a very long time. Or that's just his heart. He doesn't know, and he doesn't really care.

Eventually they stop, Rain's chest heaving as he takes a deep breath. "Thank you, Mountain."

He smiles, genuine and warm. "You're doing excellent, tadpole."

Rain's cheeks flush, an almost dusky violet. It makes tiny, silvers freckles stand out on their skin, almost iridescent where they're splattered over their cheeks and the curved bridge of their nose. "Thank you," he says again.

Rain wanders closer, bass set reverently in its stand. His eyes, wide and shark-like, focus on Mountain.

The earth ghoul stands to his full height, steps out from behind his kit, down the riser. He tries his best not to loom.

Rain gets closer still, drawn like an orbiting star. Mountain reaches out, cupping a big hand against their face, watching teal gills flutter against his throat. He tilts his head, watching the way Rain leans into the touch.

"May I kiss you?" Mountain blurts out, cheeks flushing a dark olive.

Rain's eyes go wide like saucers, mouth opening and closing like, well, a fish. "Yes," they say, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Mountain fights every urge he has to just take, leaning down gently as he tips their face up, capturing their lips with his. Rain tastes like salt, the sea on a sunny summer day, and Mountain knows within an instant of the contact that he's going to be chasing that taste the moment they pull away.

They break, and Mountain barely has a moment to catch his breath before Rain's surging up, lithe fingers curled around his suspenders and pulling.

Rain's new. They're hungry, sharp, serrated teeth nipping at Mountain's bottom lip. The earth ghoul groans like the wind's been knocked out of him. It certainly feels like it. He grins into the kiss and pulls them closer.

#i don't write mountain/rain nearly enough #almost forgot to put this one in the queue lol #dot's writing #mountain ghoul #rain ghoul #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost #mountain/rain #mushy may 2024

[ace-of-gay]

A Mountain is home

I currently dont have a masterlist set up for this collection but i hope you enjoy this none the less, this will eventually be posted on ao3 but i dont have an account currently

Warnings: age regression (not very in depth) , self destructive stimming like scratching pulling on tail thrashing and hitting ones self during a neurodivergent meltdown, quite panicked reader, reader has trauma, reader is a full ghoul this time cause this is still my interpretation of a fantasy universe <3, cuddles and ghoul-piles!!!

The word muzzle is used multiple times over but is referring to a mouth cover to symbolize silence

I headcannon mountain as autistic, no shoes for lifeee yup thats all

age regression is a coping mechanism that can be both voluntary and/or involuntary it is entirely safe and reccomended by therapists if they believe it would be effective for said person but as mentioned for some people it is entirely unpredictable, if this makes you uncomfortable please scroll away thank you <3

Not betad or edited

Word count: 5,611words (it basically wrote itself)

Youd been summoned just a week ago and it already seems as though youre once again fading into the background, no one had taught you if someone of your neurotype was acceptable in todays world, the bok-hord in hell or library as you read above the one here in the church of sin was not at all up to date on whats acceptable yet.

This is your second time being summoned, your first ritual was terrifying but what made it worse is they thought you were impossible to become a domestic ghoul, the uncertainty of being sent back from this one weighed on you, if you went back again no one would be there for you.

Holding yourself back and biting your tongue from doing or saying anything including the strange chirps and trills that kept you regulated, taking it upon yourself to be even more docile and quieter than the tall ghoul behind the drums, no matter the situation not a peep has been heard from you, all you did was play your instrument, there was no jumping around putting on a presentation, the others however did so, its just practice but you hadnt earned your place, you could always be sent back for even the most minor of slip up, its happend before and you for sure wont let it happen again.

《~♡~》

Friday nights are prime for the others, the guys in a ghoul-pile and girls raiding the fridge for snacks while watching a film, in the common area designated for only ghouls no one wearing their mask but yourself, only passing through doing your best to keep in the shadows, if youre out of place surely youll be duely punished, the first time you were summoned your family and friends were disappointed to see you sent back but your mother worst of all had said she had expected it , you had no place yet, so your room was for you the closest to safety.

Locking the door to your room as soon as you returned; taking off themask and the muzzle of sorts, some ghouls had facepaint instead but you weren't vocal so there was no reason, finally now to a safe place you let everything fall from its people pleasing manner into what felt most like yourself, jumping up and down to get your blood flowing and thoughts swarming.

"Who needs others when you can feel at home just being yourself", clicking and pacing and flapping your hands you were trying to catch up to what your body demanded, but

It just kept spilling, from the deepest places in your mind, crevasses full of discomfort, confusion, irritation and just the most overwhelming feeling that could muster  itself from your being.

Nothing was working, it was too late to regulate and your mind took to a melt down, shaking your head wasnt good enough, grabbing hold of your horns, you violently shake yourself around, tail whipping and slashing all around you, and than the crying.

Oh how the crying was the worst part, shoving the muzzle back on it didn't do much for silence but its still an attempt, everyones expectations ringing shrill in your ears, you didn't come from a happy home, your family torn apart by sinners from christs hall a completely different take on sin, as it caused harm.

Hands over your muzzle to silence just a bit more if possible and than the silent choked sobs, more physically painful but it wouldn't draw attention, thats the last thing you wanted, slamming your fists down against your thighs followed by tugging on your tail and scratching the spade of it until it hurt, the only thing that could regulate you was small jolts and shocks of pain and than it stopped, you were right back where you started, silent but this time you felt like a kit.

A tiny kit who got told that they need to learn to be normal, but for the time being there was the innocence, nothing would happen if you weren't, you were just different, and you were alone but you were still safe.

Putting the helmet back on, you take all of the blankets and pillows that are in your room and shove them under your bed, taking the cover sheet and creating a curtain between the floor and the frame, all of your tiny kit-like self holed up in one place, a place as small as the family and friends in your life had made you, maybe this time you were sent here to be safe.

Fixing up the nest you made under your bed you let yourself hide away from the world, be as small and pure as your mind could muster and let all the terrible feelings melt away, chirping and trilling quietly as you lay there eventually being held close and coddled by darkness, falling asleep you would not return to the common rooms until most necessary.

Grabbing food and hiding once more, at some point when you were in the library and had found scratch paper, a sketchbook , a couple pencils and a mess of tacks set out in a bin that had the word 'FREE' in print on it for anyone to partake in the activity of drawing, collecting the supplies and a few books on ghouls with neurodivergencies, and just a simple fairy tale, you embark back to your room.

Over the weekend you had covered the walls in the corner of the room under your bed with fantastical pictures of your dreams, and drawings of each ghoul and papas youve seen so far.

《~♡~》

When monday came it was back to breakfast and lessons in the morning, lunch after practice around noon and communal chores, the others were very loud today, as for yourself youd been silent like predicted but you could feel eyes on you and could hear bickering but nothing quite clear of their words.

making dinner for everyone was the last thing, it was easy, it was one thing your family didn't ridicule you over, your cooking made anyone who was having a bad day feel better, there was so much passion that anyone could see and taste.

your tail flowing in an easy, comforting sway and a smile hidden under your muzzle, the first smile to bare your face outside of your room and it felt like this was what would give you your place to stay.

Dishing everyones plates with your home-made meal and taking it to the ghouls and ghoulettes where they each were was apparently unexpected and out of their ordinary, but you had no idea, how would you when you hide away, maybe they would take that into consideration. This was also one of the first times you got to hear others address you, smiles and bright eyes shared when they where blown away by your cooking, you dished up yourself and sat at the island counter crouching on a wooden stool, sitting on them hurts the backs of your legs and crouching was more like hugging yourself anyway.

Soon enough people would march in putting their dishes in the sink giving a thankyou and a smile or a compliment to your cooking, slowly eating your food, savoring each bite, the comments from others causing your tail to pick up its sway with a little flick in it, maybe itll be okay.

You go to put your dish in the sink after rinsing it off when the tall guy from behind the drums approaches, while just as quiet as you he was also playful like the others.

"Hey y/n dinner was amazing, i cant wait til next week to see what you come up with" he exclaimed, "im mountain by the way, i know i didn't exactly introduce myself at all since you first got here, we wanted you to settle in, you seemed very stressed" he added before someone shouted for him from the other room, leaving with a smile and wave.

There was no expectation for you to respond, no expectation to look someone in the eyes, you let out a small chirp joined by a small movement in your hands.

《~♡~》

Back in your room you let your tail wag wildly,  pulling the books you'd been reading up on, you had gotten from them the fact that over the years some churches of sin have allowed a better understanding and acceptance for people and ghouls alike with neurodivergencies to be better recognized and seen as equals, there were things they didn't tell you about back in hell when you were told of your neurotype, like your sounds and movement for self regulation was called stimming and that it can be harmful but it can also be helpful just depending on the purpose and action, you had copied information from the book down on resources and important things you thought would help, these books were the most helpful and the fairy-tale was perfect however you needed a new one since youve read this one so many times you knew every line, you take the books back to the library.

Putting them back on their respective shelfs you pick out two new fairy-tales and stop by the free stuff bin, taking pencil lead an eraser and a new sketchbook, youve already filled your first one in just a few days, you dont have anymore room on the walls around your nest for more loose paper sketches so you need the sketchbook instead.

On your walk back to your room admiring the stained glass windows, lost in thoughts somewhere between regression and big feelings, letting them mingle and intertwine,

So lost in thought you dont see when papa copia started coming closer until he spoke up, "good evening y/n" a small scream torn from you as you are brought back to right now practically jumping out of your skin, your eyes big as you process who it is, the first time anyone has heard your voice in any way and it obviously had to be a panicked scream, this wouldn't sit well with your family, your mind shifting farther into regression, just wanting to be in your room again.

"My apologies little one" littleone? Is it that obvious you think to yourself, "it was not my intention to frighten you, i see youve taken a liking to the library, what books have you got there?" Hanging your head in shame and slight worry you show him the two fairy-tales and he breaks out in a grin "i remember reading those, i might have to look at them once more! A very good choice, Molto bene indeed" finishing up your silent-sided conversation you rush quickly back to your room, theres been too much interaction and what did papa copia mean by 'little one?'

《~♡~》

After a few days of this halfsided banter from the ghouls and papa youre started to feel a little more comfortable.

A knock on your door pulled you from your slumber, the first couple times had made their way into your dream, you get up and open the door to the ghouls and ghoulettes standing in the hall, a few smiles making their way on a few faces, and thats when you realize youre not wearing your mask or muzzle, heat rushing to your ears and cheeks causing your cool grey skin to tint purple, hanging your head in embarrassment while rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, "were sorry to wake you but were meeting early today because papa has a meeting with the clergy and after lessons and practice mix we have the rest of the day off", nodding you return into your room to get changed and to put on your muzzle and mask, the group waiting outside of your room for you to walk with them.

Lessons and practice going by quickly you find yourself in the library,helmet off, curled up and tucked into one of the couches reading another fairy-tale, looking intently at the pictures, your eyes irritated from not getting all of the sleep you normally get, theyre slowly drifting shut, you can only stay awake so much longer before your mind takes you to a rem sleep.

Waking up to mountain shaking you awake he smiles gently, "hey sleepy head, i was looking for you, its lunch time but it seems as though youre tired, we'll get you to your room and ill bring lunch to you there" he was a gentle giant ghoul and although you haven't said anything to anyone youre starting to warm up to him, he puts a book mark in the book and helps you up handing you your mask, you decide to just carry it with you.

Opening your door he hands you the book and you set it down atop your bed along with your mask, "do you want me to knock when i come back?" Thinking for a moment and shaking your head 'no' you'll probably just be asleep again, taking off the muzzle you set it with your mask getting ontop of your empty bed you curl up waiting while slightly dozing.

When he returns he walks in with your plate in hand, "wheres you stuff bud? Did they move you into an unready room?" You once more shake your head, pulling up the bedsheet curtain putting your nest on display, "aaah a safe spot, i completely understand, im here if you need anything, just holler my way" he kids while stepping out.

"Can you- stay?" You mutter through a slightly broken voice, catching him off guard, youre not sure why you asked but he seems easy to open up to, hes kinda like you.

"Id be honored"

You sat there mostly quiet eating but occasionally you'd respond and every time he would be looking elsewhere but the smile on his face said he was paying attention.

The more you got to know him the more you realized youre very similar to him.

《~♡~》

The next couple weeks youd spend lunch with him sharing stories while you sat in your nest and him at your desk, he talked about how fond the ghouls and ghoulettes and even the papas were of you, they all looked forward to you hopefully someday talk full sentences with them but for now with you slowly coming out of your shell, wearing your mask and muzzle less often and spending more time somewhat near the group, for now they were content watching you grow and become more of yourself.

You gave each person a sketch youd do of them from observation and mountain even brought you another sketchbook when he noticed you were running low on pages, you told him why youve been scared to come out of your room and your past experience with your previous summoning, you however didn't tell him why it failed but he understood itll take some time.

《~♡~》

One evening after another one of your delicious meals you were invited to watch a movie with everyone, accepting the offer you show up in your hoodie you just recently bought and pajama pants, socks with sticky tabs on the bottom so you didn't slip on the marble floors, you balled yourself up in a beanbag chair, others had grabbed pillows or stuffed animals from the pile in the corner, you go over to look through the pile, pulling out a well loved multi-textured dog plush, smiling and taking it over to your spot with you, focused on the textures, "very good choice little wisp" mountain hummed, your tail thumping against the bean bag chair, your cheeks and ears dusted purple once more, "i haven't held one since i was very small" you return.

After the movie you gave the plush one last hug before placing it atop the pile, "you know if you want you can take it to your room with you, we have them here for everyone" he encouraged but you shook your head, "he would miss his friends and i dont want to take someone elses opportunity of loving him away", little did you know the ghouls left in the room all felt their hearts melt, this wasnt new to them, theyve met ghouls and people whose minds are permanently part kit, they wouldn't say anything until you said something first, youre part of the family, you deserve to do it on your own terms.

Just the next evening when you returned from the library you come to find a black gift

Bag infront of your door with a tag that has your name on it.

Entering your room you set everything down before you open the bag, youre met with a soft multi-texture plush almost identical to the one from the other night but this one had weighted feet,and a book of several fairy-tales with a few purple tabs on certain pages along with it. A card that says, "a plush specifically for you and your love, i hope you give him a wonderful name, and a book my mother read to me when i was just a kit, one that you dont have to take back to the library"

Holding the plush out infront to look at him your headspace slipping quickly, thankfully you were in the safety of your bedroom and he would fit perfectly into your nest with you.

With plenty of time between now and dinner time, your chores being done and someone else being on dinner duty you took right now to relax.

in comfortable clothes you lay down in your nest with your book and the stuffy you named chip cause he reminded you of chocolate chip cookies, you named him late at night when you were feeling very small and it just stuck.

Closing your eyes when the words in the book were adding to the strain, from all the light today, hunger pulling a whine from you, if you slept for now youd wake up at the perfect time to eat dinner, you might even sit with rain and talk about the books youve read recently outside of the fairy-tales.

Being pulled out of your dreams by someone gently shaking you awake and calling your name, confusion built it way to your face, he doesn't need to knock but normally he chooses to, what brought him in?

"I know youre sleepy but its dinner time and i know you like your routine,  i tried knocking but you were out cold" he states after reading your scrunched and slightly confused face, handing you your bowl, tonight cirrus and swiss made dinner together.

Mountain sits on the floor across from you as you both ate in a comfortable silence, thats one thing about him, he tries to make sure hes not being a trigger for anyone with misophonia.

Eating slowly and running your hand along the textures of your stuffy, "s'named chip" you just barely say aloud, causing him to smile, "thats the most perfect name for him, does he give the best of cuddles?" Nodding youre completely unaware of the fact hes talking to you as if you were a kit, he was just being kind and attentive for all you knew, and while yes thats completely true he also saw through your silence, hes talked to semi-permanent kit-minded ghouls and he knew it was for safety of mind.

Both of you done with dinner, you pull out your sketchbook as he gets up to take the dishes to the kitchen, standing in the doorway looking down at you with a smile upon his face, "do you want me to come back after i put the dishes in the kitchen?" Watching as you ponder for a moment before nodding, looking up at him, never once more than now have you longed for physical contact with someone but you little mind craves it.

He returned quickly to see you moving your nest about, your movements less exact and a little choppy, he could see the irritation when the blankets wouldn't flatten out so he got down to help, fixing it for you he sat back on his knees when you planted yourself down closer to the wall than normal, you pat the spot next to you while holding chip close to your chest.

"You want me to cuddle little wisp?" He questioned already taking his jacket off before you hummed in response.

Cuddling was very common amongst ghouls so there was no questions asked as to why

It was naturally so second nature for most.

Curling into him he holds you close, your head resting on his chest, you could just fall asleep right now but you fought that instinct so you could savor a moment of feeling completely safe, where youre not being overstimulated.

"When i was first summoned i read those exact same books on ghouls with neurodivergencies, i remember reading that someone with a mind like the one both of us have can easily struggle in public environments or around new people"

He retold, causing you to question how he knew you read them.

"Oh wisp, i can hear just how stirring you mind can be, i saw you walking back to the library to return them, i want you to know that you are safe here with me and all of the others, im honored to cuddle, i didn't join a ghoul-pile until several months of being here."

Nodding to yourself, taking a moment to process his words when your own  join the party.

"Jus cant do touch with others almost ever, makes brain hurt and than hurts me aswell"

Your eyes started to sleepily flutterand he picks up the fairy-tales book he brought you, opening it up to one of the purple tabs, some of his favorites.

He read you to sleep, when his pants were starting to put deep seam imprints  into his legs causing him discomfort, he goes to leave the room but is stopped by you plea for him to stay, "ill be right back little mouse."

And like promised he did return in much more comfortable clothes, a blanket and a comfort item of his own, cuddling back up with you halfway ontop of him, covering the both of you with his blanket, setting your temporarily forgotten of stuffie in the corner above your head along with his.

《~♡~》

From than forward you and mountain spent Friday nights in your room reading and cuddling, going to lessons and practice together, he was helping you open up, when it would be your night to make dinner, which you had requested to have more than once a week instead of sink duty because soggy wet hands felt offensive to your skin, he would sit at the island watching unless one of his chores intercepted that period of time or if another ghoul requested his company.

It took five months to ease you out of you shell, at four you had brought up the regression and neurodivergency topics to the others and than out of fear you hid in your room for the weekend until dew stopped by inviting you to watch a movie with the others which you happily obliged to do so, remembering that its okay to be around others and be yourself, that night you sat on the couch behind the ghoul-pile falling asleep with chip in your arms, your tail intertwined with mountains.

Not wearing your mask unless you needed a break or everyone else was, copia had taken you aside at one point to find fabrics that looked like the others but were sensory safe so when it was time for uniforms you would feel comfortable.

At night you would go out to the garden in secret and jump around, spin, stomp, trill, chirp, coo and so much more. It helped tremendously.

《~♡~》

Tonight unlike the others was much louder in your head and harder to feel okay, already regressed you tried stomping around and flailing your hands but without meaning to you were once more pulling on your tail and scratching it painful and raw, the garden was closed for the night with new fertilizer being put down, taking chip you trail your way down to one of the last rooms, the shiny name plate reading 'mountain' you gave a slightly too heavy knock on the door, rocking back and forth on your feet, he answers and is suprised to see you standing there with deep grey tear tracks down your face, chip under your arm and your tail in hand scratching as you fumble with your words.

Letting you in he pats the bed for you to sit down while he turns on the light and pulls a shirt on over your head, sniffles and hiccups break your silence, he take your hands and holds them for a moment, watching the spade of your tail drop small dots of blood onto the marble floor, "come with me little wisp, its okay" he leads you to the bathroom, picking you up and setting you on the counter, lifting his tail for you to hold on, he knew full well you wouldn't scratch his, tracing the scars on his tail had you questioning if he did the same.

As he took hydrogen peroxide cleaning the small cuts and scrapes pulling a hiss from you in reaction, "i know hun, im sorry ive got to be mean and clean it but weve got to take care of it so it doesn't get icky ya-know?" He soothes, "you see the ones on my tail, theyre from the same thing, sometimes i almost start scratching at them again but i normally just hold my tail and put lotion on the scars to feel like im cleaning it up once more"

Once hes done patching you up he once again takes your hands leading you to his bed and looking through his closet. His room was well decorated and filled, a queen sized pillow top mattress and black wooden four poster bed frame against the wall, he had a collection of old trinkets including a camera that takes film, your father used to have one, several gas masks, a homophone record player. On the wall above his desk was a cork board coverd in the drawing youd given him, small trinkets littler his desk, before you could look further he brings over a box of similar small trinkets setting them infront of you.

"You can dump the box out if you want, find whatever works best, i have plenty more" dumping them out you turn the box upside down organizing them, finding three, liking them the most you put the duplicates of them and all the others away back in the box holding onto the three youd picked out, he puts the box under his bed, seating himself next to you, leaning into his side as he turns on one of the movies you'd taken interest in, "hey wisp can i hold chip?", nodding against his chest, paying deep attention to his heartbeat how slow and rhythmic, tapping your tail against the bed in the same beats, occasionally humming and trilling, his left hand running up and down your back, occasionally running though your hair gently.

"Youre gonna be okay little mouse, ive got you".

《~♡~》

Your first ghoul pile was something very special, stuffies piled everywhere, they all had banded together to make the room perfect for your comfort, your favorite music playing in the background, dew and sunshine had found you in the library quietly crying flicking around one of the fidgets mountain gave you

Humming and rocking back and forth, chip sitting ontop of your tail, you couldn't find mountain and you didn't want to taint the energy of your nest. Sunshine sat with you as dew went to find mountain, she lifted chip for a moment, carefully intertwining her tail with yours setting chip on your tails.

Dew returned around 10 minutes late with a smile upon his face, taking your open hand with sunshine carrying chip, they took you through the abbey to the lounge where the blanket, stuffy and pillow pile was spread across the floor, mountain and all the other were waiting, some of them already cuddled up, and others walking around, drawing the curtains and dimming lights, filling up a cooler to keep near the pile, mountain lead you to the group, curling himself around you with chip between the two of you, sunshine still connected to you laying back to back with you.

The first time being so close to the others all together and for once your brain lets it happen, youre not sure whose hand is running through your hair but it causes you to chirp, nuzzling you head into the hand.

Swiss tapping his forehead against yours, "youre welcome to stay as long as you need, this is your pile."

Theyre all so much more calm and centered on one another when theyre cuddled, with the warmth from all of the bodies it made it very easy to slip into a smaller headspace.

Cirrus reaching over mountain to wipe away the tear tracks with a wet cloth, they already had a feeling youd be disoriented with the news of the tour starting at the end of this month and the arrival of the outfits.

Cooing and trilling, others trilling back made you excitedly laugh.

《~♡~》

Youve been attached to at least one ghoul at all times, they knew you liked holding tails until you had to use your charm to pass as human, copia gave you a hug before he headed out first.

This was the first time youve seen mountain wear shoes, it looked as abnormal as it felt to not have a tail.

Standing in your place when papa introduces the band, not paying attention to him but instead the piece in your ear counting down til the lights cut off and mountain and dew are counted in, mountain looks to you taking an exasperated deep breath telling you to take one aswell, feeling the lights go out and the beat of mounts drums through the floor, counting the cymbal crashes and its time for you to join in, as soon as your hands start moving, you feel it, absolute euphoria, youre radioactive with energy,  the fans going wild, youre practically thrashing as you play, prancing around and jumping when youve got time to spare you run up front adding flair and showmanship to the ceremony, interacting with the others.

By the end youre absolutely drained, enough energy to hop about and screech getting rid of the last bit of energy, if all of the tour is like this youre gonna have an absolute blast, mountain hands you a couple drumsticks for you to throw after taking a bow, and than perching yourself in 'frog crouch' on mountains riser next to his drums watching everyone go about their ending routines, people throwing stuff on stage, bracelets and flags to hand made gothic style stuffed animals, the ghouls picking some stuff up to look at em, handing them to the designated ghouls if there was a name and handing the rest to anyone else like yourself, the ghoulettes and even papa, swiss picked up a couple hand made stuffed animals bringing them to sit next to you.

When it was time to leave the stage mountain came over opening his arms, you lean forward wrapping your arms around his shoulders and he sets you down on you feet, grabbing the teddy's leaning into his side, hes completely drenched in sweat but so are you, it was practically a work out so it was worth it.

In the van having let down the human charm you wash up and slip into pajamas, the stuffies and bracelets set in your bunk you stare out the window waiting flicking your fidget around, Cumulus walks by stopping to give you a hug, "you did great wisp, your energy was so contagious. ", nodding and tapping your forehead against hers in a silent communication, you were absolutely exhausted.

As soon as mountain is out of the shower you push yourself into his chest, finally time to rest, and with your favorite ghoul no doubt,  he hands you chip, folding into one another he holds you gently, as he pulls out the fairy tale he reads your favorites in the book, looking down when youre not humming out your regular vocal stims he realizes youve fallen asleep with your head on his chest, his hands running up and down your spine, tail occasionally thumping against the bed followed by nuzzling against him, "sleep well little wisp, you were so radiant tonight.

《~♡~》

Your room at the church of sin was finally decorated, still sleeping in your nest, the ghouls helped you assemble a proper loft bed with the mattress from your previous bed as part of the nest below, stuffies from the tour everywhere and bracelets hung on a set of racks to display them, posters scatterd on your walls, some plushies piled on the top matteress but keeping that open for the most part if someone wants to hang out. A bookshelf full of normal books and fairy-tales,  a starry curtain over your window with a matching opposite one around your nest. Chip in his spot as always hes constantly waiting for your cuddles.

Drawings of both your own and others, many interpretation of what fans saw you as, they call you gargoyle, but to the ghouls youre just a little wisp or little mouse, you were your most accurate self, you were finally at home.

(Accidentally posted the unfixed version, sorry bout that)

#nameless ghouls x little reader #nameless ghouls x reader #nameless ghouls x gn reader #nameless ghouls x gender neutral reader #nameless ghouls x fem reader #nameless ghouls x f! reader #nameless ghouls x male reader #nameless ghouls x m! reader #nameless ghouls x ghoul reader #nameless ghouls x agere reader #nameless ghouls x neurodivergent reader #nameless ghouls x autistic reader #autistic reader #mountain x reader #mountain earth ghoul x reader #agere reader #alternative universe

[hypnoneghoul]

sorry not sorry abt this but ehehe

you know that one hayden interview where he says “rock out with our cocks out“ or smth like that

yeah what abt that but swissalps… like idkhow the technical side will go but yknow… practice session shenanigans?

okay i know this deserves thousands of words but alas i couldn't do that much and i wanna scream BUT its hot and silly as fuck at the end so enjoy

Swiss was a menace.

It was a widely known fact, best known by Mountain, but sometimes the earth ghoul still made the mistake of expecting something to go normal.

This time, it was a practice session. Swiss proposed the two of them go and have a jam session, just for fun. They did, but it was not what first came to Mountain’s mind at the offer.

Clench of Swiss’ ass around his dick made him snap out of his thoughts.

“Fuck,” the earth ghoul hissed, bucking up into the tight warmth engulfing him. “You feel so good, darling.”

“Y– yeah, shit,” Swiss moaned, bouncing with the movement of Mountain’s thighs. They sat behind his drumset and his feet were planted on the bass drum pedals, keeping a nearly perfect rhythm. He started out with sticks in his hands, too, but they were quickly abandoned in favor of groping Swiss’ all over. “Love your big fucking cock, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too, darling,” Mountain grunted and went on stomping down on the pedals and tensing the muscles of his thighs, fucking his dick deeper into the multi ghoul’s ass.

Practice session.

One particularly harsh roll of the multi ghoul’s hips sent the two of them off the little drumming stool, Mountain falling on his back behind the drum set, Swiss on top of him. Thankfully, their platforms at home weren’t the crates that were used on tour, otherwise that fall wouldn’t be so funny. Here there even was a carpet.

Swiss leaned forward to kiss the wheeze from the earth ghoul’s lips, slotting his own against them and all but shoving his tongue inside the other’s mouth.

“Hmpf,” he huffed, grabbing his hips once again. Swiss ground down, slotting Mountain’s cock right against his prostate. They both moaned, swallowing each other’s noises.

The multi ghoul continued to grind down, rubbing his cock between his and Mountain’s bellies, as he clinged to him, occasionally bucking his hips up involuntarily. Neither of them had to warn the other when they got close, knowing each other’s bodies too well. When Swiss’ legs started to shake and when Mountain’s noises got louder, the multi ghoul started rolling his hips with more purpose.

“Shit, oh– fuck,” he cried out. Mountain agreed with his own loud whine and in no time at all the both of them were shooting their loads as they shuddered through their respective orgasms. Swiss flopped down flat on top of the earth ghoul and he held him as they were slowly coming down from their highs.

Soon, Swiss slipped off of Mountain’s dick with a groan and rolled over onto his side.

“I’ll get some water from the storage,” he said with a peck to the other’s cheek. “Be right back.”

“Mhm…” the earth ghoul hummed in affirmation. As if he was planning on going anywhere in that state, completly fucked out. Swiss slinked away, but before the opening of any doors could be heard, the multi ghoul called out.

“Hey, look!” he yelled, laughing, and Mountain lolled his head to the side. The wheeze that had left him once he saw, nearly made him choke on his own spit.

“Swiss, my heart,” he giggled, all but rolling on the floor. “I love you, but what the fuck?”

There the multi ghoul was, on his platform, dancing fully naked like he usually would during Dance Macabre. The thing he seemed so proud of was, apparently, his soft cock just… swinging around.

“Helicopter!”

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #swissalps

[techs-goggles9902]

OH an idea struck and I just knew you were the person for the job 😌

I would like to request the Bad Batchs reaction to the reader blasting your favorite Ghost song on the Marauder 🤭 (also RIP to my fave ship 😮‍💨)

Head cannons or a one shot, it's up you 😊

TBB Reacts to The Band Ghost

REQUESTS ARE OPEN FOR ALL LISTED FANDOMS. SEE MASTERLIST FOR DETAILS <3

Warnings: cursing, satanic music (duh), Hunter can't sing (eardrums tortured in a loving way)

Word Count: 1718

A/N: lmao I took waaaaay too long for this. I went super overboard with Hunter and well... I re-did it so I could post them all at once. No fr I went back and re-wrote the entire thing multiple times lmaoo

Hunter

You couldn’t play it too loud, of course. Hunter was here. The others had gone to the docks littering the lowest level of Pabu. It was just you, your man, and your favorite rock band. 

You began to connect your datapad to the Marauder’s control panel. Hunter was who knows where, lurking around the ship doing who knows what. As your deft fingers tapped away at the buttons, you knew exactly what song to play. 

Hunter never minded you playing your music whenever the others were out, mostly because with all the different preferences of music, no one was satisfied whenever someone’s song came on - except Omega, who liked all her brothers music, bobbing her head to whatever was playing, but that was a different story. 

The pad of your finger selects your chosen song, a gray swirl floating around the screen as the datapad loads. You sigh and tap your foot impatiently. How long has it been since this ship has experienced your glorious, powerful tunes? How long has it been since the soundwaves have echoed through the durasteel walls of the ship? Too long. 

The swirl faded away and the familiar intro to your song starts blaring through the speakers. The loud piano fills the ship and you hear Hunter shuffle around the back of the ship.  

“Damn it, Wrecker,” you mutter as you fumble with the volume switch, turning it down to a more… healthier level. You turn around to face Hunter, who’s slowly uncovering his ears and staring at you wide eyed, as you mouth sorry. 

“Was that Zenith?” He asks.

“Yeah. But I didn’t know it would be that loud, sorry,” you reply, giving him a guilty look. 

“Don’t worry about it, cyare. Turn it up a bit. I like that one.” He comes over, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. He presses a soft kiss to your temple and taps his fingers on your belly to the beat. “I saw some post on the Holonet about Zenith.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” Hunter hums, “apparently it means ‘the final end’. Do you think that means Co-”

“No. Don’t. Copia lives forever and ever,” you cut him off, shaking your head. Hunter gives a low chuckle. You reach your hand up behind you to run your fingers through his hair.

“Play it louder.” He hums the tune of the song in your ear, swaying you gently. 

“This is not the right type of dancing we should be doing to rock,” you whisper. 

“Shhhhh… ‘s the best part.” Hunter leans his head back a little and starts to sing, “Time will soon be gone… Right will turn to wrong.” He’s incredibly offkey and he knows it, curling his fingers around your wrists, moving them up and down like he’s trying to make you dance. You giggle. 

“Winds come on strong! So, help you God! Call on meee…”

“Hunter, baby, love of my life, stop. Please, you’re killing my ears.” You grin, laughing as he whispers a soft ‘no’. 

“You’re set free!” He twirls you around and dips you dramatically. You can’t help but laugh. His chocolate eyes gaze into your own as he leans down and presses a tender kiss to your lips. 

“You can’t sing for shit…” 

“I love you, too, cyare.” 

Tech

The signature rapping of drums and the low strumming of guitars filled the Marauder. You sat back in the co pilot's seat with your feet up on the console. You imitate the drums, tapping your pointer fingers in the air like you’re Pebble or Mountain on their stage. 

Tech’s somewhere on the ship, findling with whatever needs repairing. You’ve all stopped at some backwater world, the rest of the team going out to the local town for supplies. Tech’s never had an issue with your music, in fact, he lets you blast it as loud as you want when it’s just the two of you. 

I have my headphones, he’s told you, you rarely get to play your music. I do not mind. 

But, you were nice enough to never play it on full blast. Just loud enough to feel every time the drummer’s sticks hit the instrument. 

You don’t hear the footsteps behind you, not noticing Tech had come to the cockpit until he touches your shoulder. You gasp, jumping a little. Tech’s big amber eyes widen and he allows his lips to form a soft smirk. 

“Scared?” He rubs the pad of his gloved thumb over the bones in your shoulder. 

“Maybe a tad, yes.” You grin, putting your hand over his. 

“Mummy Dust, correct?” He lowers himself down into the pilot’s seat, his fingers trailing down your arm before slipping off. You nod. Tech’s head bobs slightly as the tempo quickens.

You and him both mouth ‘dust’ as Tobias Forge begins singing. 

“I was carried on a wolf’s back…” you mumble.

“To corrupt humanity…” Tech whispers back. 

“I will pummel it with opulence…”

“With corpulence and greed…”

You both sing, “In God you trust… My mummy dust…” You look up at Tech with a grin and you both - him less aggressive as you - bob your head to the beat of the drums. Tech gives you a soft smile and a low chuckle. 

The pair of you sing the next verse together, alternating between lyrics. His eyes close and he tilts his head back against the headrest as the keytar solo begins. His slender fingers twitching slightly, as if imitating the musician. You watch with a little grin.

“Having fun?”

“You know, if we were to acquire a keytar, I believe I could execute that solo to perfection. With some practice, of course.” Tech opens his eyes and looks over at you. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, hun.” 

“I am merely stating facts, cyare.”

Wrecker 

The intro to the song plays loudly out of the speakers. You bob your head to the guitars and tap your foot. You feel strong hands grab you from behind by your waist just before you could sit back down into the copilot’s seat. 

“I’ve been lookin’ so long now for you now you won’t get away from my grasp…” Wrecker sings along to the song, Phantom Of The Opera, giving your waist a gentle squeeze. You smile. 

“What’re you do-” You’re shushed as he whispers into your ear, “You put on my favorite song, mesh’la…”

His deep, rough voice carries over the ship’s speakers. He spins you around, holding your hands as he dances you through the ship. His smile never fades as he gently holds you but aggressively sings. 

“Watch your step, he’s out to get you!” He tickles your stomach, your laugh drowned out by the music. “Come what may… Don’t you stray… from the narrow way!”

He lets go of you to vigorously shred his nonexistent guitar. 

“You’re runnin’ and hiding in dreams. I’m always there… I’m the phantom of the opera, I’m the devil. I’m just out to scare!” 

“Wrecker, you couldn’t scare a baby tooka if you wanted to.” You grin.

He stops singing and dramatically gasps, “What?! This face has scared quite a few clankers in its day.” 

You roll your eyes with a joking scoff. The song ends a moment later and Wrecker leans close to you. His lower lip juts out slightly as he whispers, “I’m scary.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes I am.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh.”

Crosshair

Your finger hovers over the screen of your datapad, ready to play your song. You’ve settled on Respite on the Spitalfields when someone’s long fingers curl around your ‘pad from behind you, gently pulling it away.

“That’s a good song, but if you’re going to play Ghost, play a better song,” Crosshair rasps in your ear. His deft digits scroll through your playlist. 

“Oh yeah? What’s better than Sodo’s solo?” You turn your head to look at him.

“The intro to Secular Haze. But the If You Have Ghost version.” 

You cock a brow. “Not Infestissumam?”

He scoffs, “The intro for the one in If You Have Ghost is better. Tobias’ vocals are better in Infestissumam. They have their differences.” 

A smile tugs at your lips. “Okay, Cross… Didn’t think you were paying that much attention to my songs.”

“I always pay attention to the things you like…” His slim arms loop around your waist as he pulls you in. His lips hover next to your ear. 

“Oh… Well… what other songs have you been paying attention to?”

“Mm.” Crosshair pauses for a moment. “Take It From Everyone by that one band with the members from Ghost in it…”

“Drag Talk?”

“Mmhm.” Crosshair rests his chin on the top of your head, swaying a little and taking you with him. You lean your head back against his shoulder and let out a content sigh as the guitars break through the silence of the ship as Secular Haze plays. 

Echo

It was just you and Echo on the ship, for once. The pair of you lie on his bunk, your head on his chest with his good arm around you. His prosthetic feet tap against each other as your music plays through the speakers of the ship. 

His lips brush against the top of your head as he shifts a little. What sounded like a clock ticking cuts through the quiet of the Marauder. Echo looks puzzled. 

“Never heard this one before,” he whispers. You can’t help but grin a bit. 

“Just listen…” 

In this your time of need

You're turning to the light

You had just begun to explore the dark

In the urban night

Echo nods a little. 

The world is on fire

And you are here to stay and burn with me

A funeral pyre

And we are here to revel forevermore

He presses his hollow cheek to the top of your head as the song plays. 

“I like that… Kinda sounds like a love story.”

You look up at him. “I think it means like… The absence of God or something.”

“Well, I think it has something to do with love. The world burning but you’re here to stay and burn with me? C’mon, that sounds something like love.”

“Um… sure, hon.” A small giggle escapes your lips. “Whatever you say, Echo.”

He jabs a finger lightly into your side, making you squirm.

(no dividers since I'm lazy)

Taglist:@fionajames @will-is-silly @dangraccoon @hellhound5925 @skellymom @sevdidntdie

#star wars #sha speaks #the band ghost #ghost #ghost the band #tbb #bad batch #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb echo #the clone wars #clone troopers #arc trooper echo #clone force 99 #cf 99 #tbb reacts

[inksandpensblog]

Please take as much time and breaks as you need! It's ok if you don't participate as much when participation is made to bring enjoyment! Please focus on what you want or need to do!

I hope things get better :]!!

Thank you.

To be honest, I think I’ve been in this state for a few months at least; the only thing that’s changed recently is the one big catastrophe that has forced me to reprioritize everything I do.

Also I’m still learning to be okay with the fact that I just don’t have the time or energy to deeply invest attention in my interests the way that I used to.

I want to read comics and fics and analysis, and respond to them, and write my own, and catch up on the series (I’m legitimately behind for the first time I can ever think of), and catch up with the friends of mine who’ve created art of all types for this fandom, but…so often now, it seems that even when I do have the time, I can’t drum up the energy it would take to really responsively involve myself in the stories, either as a creator or as an audience.

(That is something I’m hoping better time management can fix, so I can reserve energy for a venture that I deliberately set aside time for instead of leaving it to the chance of “when I have time” and then not having the energy to spare once “time” actually opens up.)

And they are all things that I do want to do, I love this series and the people I’ve met through it. I’ve made friends that I want to keep for life, here, and there are so many people with intriguing ideas and fascinating things to say. But…

…the thing I enjoy has been overwhelming to me for quite some time now, and I’m only now admitting that to myself because losing my car and my proofreading job has forced me to shift my attention away from it.

I look at this series and its fandom that I love and just see a mountain of stories and ideas and observations and art that I know I’m gonna have All The Thoughts about, which I’m gonna feel compelled to share, either in my own way or in response to someone else’s, because otherwise I won’t be able to think about anything else.

A mountain which I feel I need to catch up on, in order to keep up with everyone else.

And right now…I just can’t afford to do that.

I need to relearn that it’s okay to miss things. That not being first in line or even on-time for everything doesn’t mean I love this series any less, or make me any less of a member within the communities that surround it.

I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon. I still have projects that I intend to finish, no matter how long it takes to actually develop them to a point where they’re shareable outside my group of brainstorming buddies. I still have friends that I’ll maintain regular contact with, even if we don’t talk about AvA as much for the time being.

But I haven’t been able to absorb anything new for a while now, and I think that means it’s time for me to take a step back for a bit. I shouldn’t feel dread every time a new video airs or a new comic or fic chapter is posted because I can’t handle the thought that there’s more work I need to do to keep up with it all. It shouldn’t be work.

Again, I’m not leaving. I’ll still be around, and I’m open to interacting with anyone who has questions for me or wants my thoughts on something regarding the series or my fanworks. I just won’t be the one prompting those interactions, for now; because for the foreseeable future, I won’t be investing my attention in this series or its fandom. I can’t be the one to start those conversations anymore, and I can’t respond to things that aren’t put directly in front of me with the intent that I, specifically, should see them. I don’t have the time or the energy, and having the will is just making it harder.

Sorry for the wall of text, ehe. Thank you for understanding.

#animator vs animation #avm shorts #ava enthusiasts #my thoughts #real life

[verfound]

WIP Wednesday: 04.17.2024

This was not supposed to be an entire series rewrite??? And it's not??? Sorta???

...anyway, we're Mystik Spiral Kitty Section, but we're thinking of changing our name.

It all came together so quickly after that.

While Rose was out, they hauled some equipment up to the roof: a drum kit that was hanging around the basement studio (that Jagged hadn’t actually used since the air had broken), Juleka’s bass, Luka’s favorite guitar, and a few amps.  They spitballed ideas while Rose was gone, tossing around potential band names and set lists.  When Rose finally came back, a mountain of a boy was lurking behind her.

“Ivan!” Marinette cried, her eyes widening in surprise.  He waved sheepishly while he rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand, his eyes trained on the floor.  His face looked flushed, but that could have been the heat.  “You play?”

“…a bit, yeah,” he mumbled.  “Myles says I’m good, but I think she’s biased.”

But as it turned out, Mylène wasn’t biased.  Ivan was honestly, truly good.

“…this might actually work,” Luka said, nodding as Rose screamed a metal version of his dad’s first single into the mic.  He turned to Marinette with a grin.  “Sure you don’t want to join?  We have a tambourine hanging around somewhere.  Anyone can play a tambourine.”

“Weren’t the tambourine players mostly eye candy?” she asked, her nose scrunching adorably.  He chuckled and shrugged, looking back at the little makeshift stage they had set up.

“Maybe,” he said.  His smile softened.  “Maybe I just like having you around.  It could be something fun to do together, like Rose said.  Maybe we’re all gonna suck and the band’s gonna need some eye candy to distract whoever’s watching from how bad we sound.”

Her eyes widened at the look he gave her, heat flooding her face.  She turned back to the stage with a cough, shaking her head.

“I-impossible,” she said, sitting up straighter.  “You can’t suck — you’re performing on a Jagged Stone album, Luka.  You’re amazing.”

“That’s not skill, though,” he said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.  “That’s nepotism.  You know there’s no way I’d be on the track if I wasn’t his kid.”

“Give yourself some credit,” she huffed.  “XY being top of the charts?  That’s nepotism.  You know the only reason that idiot’s gotten anywhere is because his dad owns the label.  You, though?  Yeah, your dad being who he is helps, but you’re good, Luka.  He wouldn’t let you play if you weren’t — you know it’s just as much about making himself look good as it is giving you a foot in the door.”

He couldn’t stop the little smile that quirked his lips as he glanced back at her.

“Not a big XY fan?” he asked, and she snorted as she tipped her head back.  His smile grew a little at the indignant expression on her face.

“Please,” she tsked.  “I like real musicians.  Besides, I’m kinda over blonds.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but the song was wrapping up and Rose was calling for his attention again.

“So?” she asked, bouncing by the mic.  “Is he in?”

He glanced back at Marinette, who was grinning at him as she nodded, and he sighed as he shrugged.

“Ok, if Ivan’s cool with it, I’m in,” he said, and Rose’s squeal — especially echoed back in the mic — was loud enough to make them both wince.  She started jumping and turned to Juleka, throwing her arms around her neck and hopping onto her.  Luka laughed as Ivan nodded, saying he was in, and whistled to catch Rose’s attention.  “Ok, ok!  Rose, since this is your band…what should we call ourselves, anyway?”

“How about…” Rose hummed, tapping on her chin as she looked up.  She looked back at Luka with a manic grin, snapping her fingers.  “Kitty Section!  And I have just the song to debut at the festival!”

“…o…k,” Luka said, nodding.  “I can roll with that.  Heard weirder names.  Do we even want to know what the song’s about?”

Rose’s grin was as dangerous as ever, her eyes lighting up in a way they had all learned to be wary of over the years.

“Unicorns.”

#wip wednesday #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #luka couffaine #rose lavillant #juleka couffaine #ivan bruel #kitty section #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #wip fic #ver fic #all these signs #you know I love unicorns #they always make me feel better

[chloenotfound404]

Stage Shenanigans - Lee!swiss Ler!phantom

-

⚠️warnings!- Tickling (if that’s not your thing), loads of fluff, not proof read yet!!

Summary~ Swiss was pushing his luck thinking phantom wouldn’t care too much, that was until the end of the show when he realised he was wrong

(Based of this video here)

-

-

-

Just like any other show, there was a tonne of fuckery and playfulness happening on stage. Rain and Dew doing their own little things to fuck with each other like usual, the ghoulettes all jumping about and having fun, Copia standing on Mountains platform dancing as mount gave the beat of ‘Kiss the Go-Goat’

And then there was Swiss and Phantom.

Phantom being the little shit he is, was being a shit to Swiss during the whole show so far. Well, more like Swiss provoking Phantom in any way he possibly could to get the reactions out of him. Flicking his head, covering the eyes of the mask, prodding him, teasing him: anything to get a reaction from the poor ghoul.

All of the teasing was mainly for the fact that phantom was new and Swiss didn’t think that Phantom would react back like Sodo would. But oh boy he was wrong.

Swiss was up on his platform and Phantom was by the small steps leading up to Swiss, the smirk forming under his mask as he played the rest of the song. As the song ended with Mountains final drum hit, Phantom went for it. He took two fingers and jabbed them into Swiss’ side eliciting a sharp squeak from the taller ghoul along with an insanely quick turn.

Swiss instantly felt his cheeks go red seeing phantom giggle and back down from the step.

“I’m mentally taking a note of that,” phantom chuckled, standing facing Swiss in front of the platform. Swiss instantly groaned and flicked Phantoms helmet again, eliciting another small chuckle from the newer ghoul.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Swiss mumbled, setting the tambourine on the stand before grabbing his guitar to prepare for the next song.

“But it’s funny,” phantom replied with a sly smirk under the Balaclava he wore before walking over to his spot again.

Swiss was an absolute mess under the helmet, his cheeks flushed, his tail wagging faster than normal, his mind wizzing with thoughts.

that didn’t just happen on stage, and people saw that, surely not…he thought to himself, genuinely flustered at the fact fans and possibly the other members caught that moment.

It had finally come to the end of the show, the final bows taking place just before the ghouls went to throw picks into the crowd and get some of their gifts. Swiss and phantom both gave their picks out, Swiss taking a small plush from someone and a few bracelets. Phantom did much and much the same, sliding the bracelets on his arm with a small smile.

Phantom, still being the little shit he was, snuck behind Swiss as they walked off. His fingers connecting with Swiss’ sides in a barrage of pokes and prods sending the taller ghoul into a frenzy of giggles as he crumbled in on himself to stop the attack.

“Stop it!” Swiss giggled out, making a sprint for back stage almost instantly.

“Oh no you don’t you shit!” Phantom chuckled running full pelt after Swiss, the advantage of being younger paying off from how fast he was.

It didn’t take long for phantom to catch up with Swiss at all, bumping into Aurora and Mountain on the way as he did. Both of them looking on in intrigue of the situation about to unfold.

As soon as phantoms arms could reach, he latched onto Swiss’ side resulting in a giggly yelp from the ghoul.

“Hey! Hey no!” Swiss chuckled softly, prying phantoms hands away from his sides the best he could. Phantom only tutted and smirked softly, his hands diving right back into Swiss’ sides drawing a sharp bark of laugher.

“This is what you get for being a little shit,” Phantom teased, keeping Swiss pinned tight against him as he continued the ruthless attack.

Swiss’ loud and somewhat contagious laughs filled up the backstage area quickly, Aurora and Mountain giggling at the sight as they walked past to the changing rooms, Copia doing the same.

“T-this isn’t fair!!” Swiss squeaked out through his helpless laugher, his hands batting at phantoms hands as he doubled over. Swiss’ tail stood at a point at the side of him and Phantom from the more than overwhelming situation.

“Oh this is plenty fair, Swiss,” phantom chuckled, drilling his fingers into the other ghouls ribs drawing a loud squeak instantly. the sound making Phantoms head perk up with a chuckle again.

“Is not!!” Swiss barked back, his ‘threatening’ tone far from threatening from the high pitched giggles spilling helplessly from his lips.

“Is too~” Phantom teased, his voice sounding like a singing tone as he switched to Swiss, thighs abruptly.

Swiss lost it instantly. His body crumbling to the floor as phantom kneaded into the hypersensitive muscles and flesh on his thigh.

“Ooh, ticklish thighs. Good to note,” Phantom commented as a tease again, following Swiss to the floor to continue the ruthless attack.

Poor Swiss couldn’t talk through his laugher anymore, the high pitched noise overtaking any other noises around them.

“Ok children, behave,” Rain chuckled softly, prying Phantom off Swiss by force.

“But I was having fun!” Phantom whined, pouting innocently at Rain prying a small giggle from the water ghouls throat.

“You can have your fun later, we need to start getting ready to go,” Rain mumbled, starting to walk back to the changing room.

To say Swiss was embarrassed, flustered and a bit pissed was an understatement. His cheeks were flushed, his breath was stu heaving and his eyes shot daggers to phantom.

“You better watch out, pretty boy,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist~

@dfcdf

#the band ghost #ghost band #ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfic #swiss ghoul #phantom ghoul #Lee!swiss #ler!phantom #ticklee #tickler #tickle #tickle fic

[xxcallmemaryxx]

Aether/GNreader/Mountain

Aether and Mountain love it when you watch them play, they want to give you a little private concert, but things end up a little more heated. 

REQUEST for a lovely anon!!

When the ghouls rehearse for upcoming tours, they usually rehearse together. They like to play all at the same time so they are familiar with how it's all going to sound come time for the real thing. You are their biggest fan. So you never miss out on the opportunity to watch them play. But every now and then they like to take some of their free time and practise on their own. You’ll never admit it out loud… but your favourite two to watch are Mountain and Aether. You could sit for days and watch the way Mountain kills it on the drums, or the way Aethers fingers effortlessly glide up and down the neck of his guitar. You thought it wasn't obvious. Always making sure to keep it to yourself every time you go watch their private rehearsals. You knew the other ghouls would catch on very quickly and you did not want to be the cause of a jealous outburst. Part of you didn't want to give it up either. Knowing if you told people where you disappear too every now and then… you'd have company every single time. You didn't want to share it… the way Mountain undresses you with his eyes from behind his drum set… or the way Aether makes you watch the way he plays so your eyes are glued to his fingers as he plays the chords. Maybe it was obvious. But only to the three of you. The sexual tension that grew in the room everytime you sat in to watch either of them play was too much to ignore. 

Mountains laying awake in bed one night, thinking about you… thinking about how he hasn't rehearsed on his own for a while… he misses the way you two eye fuck each other from across the room. He misses the way your scent floats around him, how he can catch a trace of it every now and then while he is playing. He will never admit it out loud… but your beautiful scent gives him so much energy, so much motivation… he plays so much better knowing you're there watching him. With the slightest hint of a smile painted on his lips, he rolls over in bed and reaches for his phone. Your contact name sitting relatively high in his recent texts causes his small smile to grow into a smirk. He opens your chat, types his message out and presses send without even thinking about it.

‘Got a private sesh tomorrow. Come join me again :)’

He stares at his screen… was that too forward? Has he blown what you two had going? It's kind of been an unspoken thing until now. He wonders if you wanted it to stay that way… he can feel the pit of dread growing deep in his stomach. 

Then he sees the icon that indicates your typing back to him pop up. He almost doesn't want to know. 

‘Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz’ 

Oh. You wanna be cheeky. The dread is gone. His smile has grown. Perhaps if you could see him right now, if you looked especially hard enough… you could see some pearly fangs poking out behind that smile of his. Something he doesn't find himself doing often. 

His fingers are typing away before he even really knows what he is gonna say back…. But he is pleased with his answer. 

‘Aether will be there’

When you see those four words pop up on your screen… you're thankful you're in bed right now, The shade of red your cheeks turned is embarrassing. They've been talking, clearly. Your heart is racing. Mountain and Aether? Together?? You start to panic a little… what if they aren't comfortable with you being there anymore. What if this went too far and it needs to stop now. You must've taken too long to reply to him because your phone buzzes as another text sends through. 

‘We just want to rehearse with our favourite little human there’

Immediate tingles flood your body. Your mouth hangs open as you reread that simple sentence over and over again. 

‘Then count your favourite little human in’

You smile at yourself as you put your phone down and settle into bed properly. Mountain smiles as he reads your reply. Feeling a little giddy now, he too rolls back over in bed to try and fall asleep. He is proven unsuccessful when thoughts of the next morning with you run through his head. 

You're walking down the hall to the recording studio. The room the guys use for their sessions. You watch the door to the room come into view. Your heart is racing, you're nervous. You're not sure if you're going to be able to handle these two at the same time. Aethers gentle words as he guides your eyes back to his hands, Mountain's dizzying gaze as he watches you so intently. You're going to leave this room a total mess. 

You reach the door. You can't hear them.. But you push it open and step through anyways. 

You meet the eyes of Mountain first. (Because of course you do.) you see the smirk pull at his lips, then your eyes flick over to Aether. He is here. They are both here. As he turns to face you, greeting you with a smile, he then walks over to you and pulls you to the chair you usually occupy when you're in here. 

“We know how much you love watching us play… we wanted to do a little… we will call it a private concert… for you.” 

Your eyes flick back to Mountain, who gives you a quick raise of his eyebrows. Your smile grows, you get comfy in your seat and…

“I'd love that” 

With a quick kiss to the forehead, Aether leaves you where you're seated and you watch as he and Mountain finish getting themselves set up. They share a quick nod and break into their first song. You feel on top of the world. You can't keep still. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Song after song they just get better and better. They share an amazing energy performing for you. 

Four hours you sat in that room with them. The first half was watching them play, being absolutely mesmerized by their talents. Both of them trying their hardest to keep your eyes on them. 

But then it took a turn. Mountain called you over. Motioned for you to come around to his side of his drums. His legs are spread wide open when you reach him, you don't even have a chance to ask him what he wanted before he reaches out and pulls you right into his lap. He is so warm. It's so inviting. You sink into him. He places his drumsticks into your hands and gently wraps your fingers around them. Then he envelopes your closed hands in his and begins teaching you how to play. He mumbles his instructions into your ear. But you can’t ignore the way he starts to lose himself in you a little… ghosting his lips over the sensitive skin on your neck as he continues to whisper his instructions to you. You could stay here forever, the way he is holding you, the way you're pressing into each other… how close he is to kissing you…. 

But he remembers Aether joined you today… so he pulls away, sets you back on the ground and promises you with his eyes that you will be finishing that later. 

You snap out of your daze when you feel another hot body press up against you. His hands rest heavily on your shoulders as he walks you backwards over to where he ditched his guitar. When you reach his little setup, he sits you on the ground in front of him, places his beloved in your arms and then steps behind you to join you on the floor. For the next hour you had Aether pressed up against your back teaching you how to play. The way he guides your hands to each individual string, describing to you ways to remember the chords…you could get lost in his being. In his presence. You know he is enjoying himself when he starts to forget certain chords he's known how to play for years. 

Mountain joins you two on the floor, seated in front of you. Watching you oh so intently. 

And there you stay. Sat in between your favourite boys. You were gifted a private little concert from them… and now here they are, teaching you how to play their instruments. Is this really about teaching you though? You have a sneaking suspicion that they've used this as an excuse to finally be able to touch you, to hold you, to feel you against them and breathe in your essence. Who are you to complain?

#the band ghost #ghost band #nameless ghouls #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #marys musings

[jewishdainix]

Not to be dramatic but youll never find the answers till you set your old heart free. Not to be dramatic but when youll lay me down youll only bury bones. Not to be dramatic but cold is the night without you here. Not to be dramatic but heartbreak pales in comparison to love. Not to be dramatic but we were young when we heard you call our names in the silence. Not to be dramatic but like the dawn you broke the dark and my whole earth shook. Not to be dramatic but shell eat you alive. Not to be dramatic but you gotta go on farther than youll ever know. Not to be dramatic but there wasnt any water in the wishing well. Not to be dramatic but if you leave before the stars then there was never love at all. Not to be dramatic but the truth became a tool. Not to be dramatic but still you lead me. Not to be dramatic but all the days of our delights are poison in my veins. Not to be dramatic but they were pointing ever east to see the ever turning eaon cease. Not to be dramatic but rise up to meet it o sleeper awake. Not to be dramatic but heartache Ive heard is part of life and I have broken more and more. Not to be dramatic but it was the raging storm of a foreign war. Not to be dramatic but these bones never rested while living so how can they stand to languish in repose. Not to be dramatic but there will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword. Not to be dramatic but I know who you are now I name you my enemy. Not to be dramatic but theres a wind alive in the valley itll fill your lungs if youll have it. Not to be dramatic but still you beat your drum raising holy wars with every strum. Not to be dramatic but innocent or not youre not a bet I care to take. Not to be dramatic but I babel on until my voice is gone. Not to be dramatic but every inhale I take swallows the ocean whole and I am one with the hurricane. Not to be dramatic but itll rain for forty days and nights and nothing you do can slow the rising tides. Not to be dramatic but by god Ill bloody up my hands with everything I am to cut away the mountains I made and fill the dales bellow. Not to be dramatic but leave it alone child and let it grow. Not to be dramatic but she finishes her cake and takes a bite out of mine. Not to be dramatic but Ive seen the line of ocean and shore the tumbling tide of water and soil. Not to be dramatic but you were the song that Id always sing you were the light that the fire would bring. Not to be dramatic but you paved your hades with precious stone. Not to be dramatic but what other lapis lazuli was hiding behind my colour blindness. Not to be dramatic but promise me that youll start where I end and I promise to give you everything that I am and will go on and on and on. Not to be dramatic but it could feel like rebirth out of some kind of dying to see yourself so glowing. Not to be dramatic but if I'm a mountain moving I think maybe you can be too. Not to be dramatic but we keep fixing what we know is only bound to break. Not to be dramatic but weather by accident or fotune you and I we are matter and it matters. Not to be dramatic but all your sums and your pieces are enough to clean up all the messes youve made I think that youre worth keeping around I think youre worth holding on to. Not to be dramatic but Ill go on and on and on again if my chest dont cave in.

#I missed some songs I know. there are some songs i havnt put in my playlist thus i dont remeber their lyrics by heart. #dude picking lyrics was hard in some songs. they mean so much to me #the oh hellos

[fan-therapy]

mentally ill ghouls. i don't make the rules

these are all disorders i have so YES i am projecting. YES this is just to comfort me. REBLOG WITH YOUR MENTALLY ILL/DISABLED GHOUL HEADCANNONS I WANNA SEE!!!

DISCLAIMER- THESE ARE NOT COMPLETE OR PERFECT REPRESENTATIONS OF THESE CONDITIONS. THIS IS JUST ME PROJECTING ONTO THESE CHARACTERS TO MAKE MYSELF HAPPY. THAT IS ALL THIS IS.

Rain- GAD/Generalized Anxiety Disorder- i feel like he worries, but not in the social anxiety way. he's quiet but not in the social anxiety way. like he just thinks everything is gonna go wrong. poor bby probably suffers from panic attacks!!! also, i think he would be the type to start skin picking/nail biting/etc without noticing, and once he does notice, he can't stop thinking about it. now his brain wants to think about it!!!!!

Mountain- Sad/Social Anxiety Disorder- OPPOSITE OF RAIN. That's why he stays hidden behind his lil drum set. he doesn't need to be seen back there and that's what he wants!! he likes to few specific people and that's it. not naming names but his people are Rain, Copia, and all of the ghoulettes. they're just peaceful and help him feel better and think things out!

Phantom- ADHD/ Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder- i am RIGHT and if you disagree no you don't. he experiences executive dysfunction a lot and it really upsets him! he just wants to do things normally! he also always does that thing where someone asks/says something and he goes "what" but when they start to repeat themselves, he realizes what they're saying. he has slow processing like that (like me frfr). he subconsciously fidgets because he got so used to doing it that he doesn't realize what he's doing. like Rain!!! the ghoulettes let him do their hair 'cause he always needs to keep his hands busy so he doesn't skin pick etc etc etc

#projecting onto my bugs! lil guys! #x reader #headcannons #ghost band #ghost #ghost bc #the band ghost #ghouls #nameless ghouls #faceless ghouls #tobias forge #phantom ghoul #rain ghoul #water ghoul #aeon ghoul #mountain ghoul #earth ghoul

[yridenergyridenergy]

Interview translation notes - Kyo & PV director Hiroyuki Kondo [Headbang 35]

Kyo feels like fans and other people are better, as human beings. He can't get up at a set time in the morning to go to work or study hard, so he finds that in comparison, as one who is simply blessed by the times, he is at the bottom, below everyone else.

Meanwhile, he lives by doing everything he can before dying. Kyo also tries to avoid bothering other people. That's why he arrives 15 or 30 minutes early to meetings, and why he finishes his vocal recordings as quickly as possible so that nobody is waiting after him. And if in turn the other band members take their time pondering over what he sent and how to compose around it, then at least he gave them the longest time possible to do that.

He compared Dir en grey's special activities during the pandemic (free livestreams for example) as not necessarily being kindness, but like in the "My Neighbor Totoro" movie when the character extends the umbrella in the rain like:  "Here." He knows that some people will say that this isn't like Dir en grey while others will say: "Thank you so much", and he is glad if it helps a handful of people at least.

Kyo truly wants fans to shout "IKEDOMO JIGOKU KA" when Schadenfreude is played in concerts!

Highlight from the other members:

Die: "Shinya didn't like that the drums could not be simple hahah"

(Sorry, the rest all seemed like boring repetition of stuff that came out in other magazines...) 

About Dir en grey's recent music videos, especially those included in AVERAGE PSYCHO 3:

The World of Mercy:  Kyo's ideas were: to have someone falling behind him in a scene, the insects in the lunch box, the school setting and bullying, the carnivorous plants, etc.

The concept behind the carnivorous plants and the bullying is that the song and PV refer to the vicious cycle of the perpetrator and the victim, which is why Kyo gets shot and then goes back to birth to be reborn the same way again.

Ranunculus: It was the members' idea to connect themselves with the dwarves in the decor too, which is how the director thought of linking them all with red strings (I never noticed...). Ranunculus is meant to be more hopeful than The World of Mercy. The mountain of cultural items and other cultural references in the PV, along with the bride giving birth, signify that we put people into this world through a channel that is influenced by everything around us in this life.

Ningen wo Kaburu: The director never thought that there would be any scene censored in that music video. In fact, he never expects any of his videos to get regulated, or at least he does not produce them with the intent that they will have to be censored. The concept for the PV is that Kyo and Kondo are both fans of Jodorowsky, and they wanted to do something inspired by his movies. As such, the members are part of a suspicious religious ceremony where someone gets dissected and eaten. But it all turns to black and so do the members' colours, highlighted by how Kyo's face reveals something black from inside, to show that they are inherently corrupted by the ritual. As for the Russian words in nature, they are meant to represent a world where everything is monitored and every little thing is labeled and measured, where the precision of it actually causes more confusion than anything.

Sangeki no Yoru: The director was wondering how to make each member die in a different way, and it was Shinya's idea that he wanted to: "eat a lot of hair and die."

 Kyo never informs the PV director, Kondo, about his costumes ahead of time. At most, the director advises the management to forward the warning not to wear blue in their costumes if he knows that the PV will be filmed against a blue screen.

Generally, he gets surprised by all of Kyo's ideas but he loves them and always feels like: "Great! And let's build on that with that concept or that theme."

Dir en grey members are very polite and never complain even if the filming goes on forever. In fact, recently, when the production of The Perfume of Sins was more timed because it took place in a rented theatre, the members simply said: "If possible, it would be good to do it like that again from now on."

Kondo's favourite film director is Martin Scorsese. He was also heavily inspired by Yasutaki Tsutsui's work as a novelist.

He met Dir en grey only three months after their formation. The manager had reached out to him to say: "I know you're new at this, but there is this band I would like you to work with." He did their Kaede if trans VHS in 1997.

#Dir en grey #translation #interview #Headbang #Headbang 35 #Headbang vol 35 #magazine #Phalaris #scan #京 #Kyo #PV director #meaning #song meaning

[rafent]

✦ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 ✧

There is a cottage in the woods.

Nil watches it through tiny breaches in the briars, like the peepholes of a starving white wolf. A nuclear family nests inside consisting of father, mother, and child; picture-perfect, as quaint as the humblest aspirations can hope to be. The hardworking father descends the mountain to peddle cut lumber. The diligent mother rises early and fills the forest with smells of plain but revitalizing cooking. The lone child plays all by her lonesome, quietly and causing no trouble, asking after no toys her parents cannot afford.

Each is hard at work in their painted-on roles, but the mother especially. She dabs away her sweat with the bone of her wrist, tidies her spilling bun and adjusts the straps of her apron when they fall loose amid midday labors. Her chemises and linens air on the clothing line, brought in before the preparations for supper.

These pristine appearances are what throw him off, of course, the singular child that induces pause. Is it not all too mundane? Should there not be a second wretch to frolic in the garden beside the first? Over the course of several days, Nil gleans what he can for the simple act of confirmation. On the fourth, he approaches. He learns there are many allowances the littlest ones will make for a kind and studied smile.

“Do you know my mama, mister?”

“I do. I am friends with her, from long, long ago, but it is very cold outside. Can I wait for her in there with you?”

“Okay.”

It is the most innocent that let the devil into their home. It is the most innocent that is the devil, after all. Kindly Nil sits and waits, his fingers drum thoughtfully against the naperon, studying the stains of spilled, ill-dried broth. The smell of washed millet and dank wood. It is a pleasant home, a proper home; that is the reality; the truth, in the same way that Nil does not really know who this child’s mother is, her face, her age, or even her name. He knows only that they have the same eyes.

She arrives eventually. She sees his eyes, too. How? her chalk-white expression asks. At this distance there is no mistake for either of them. After a moment he rises from the chair with a severe set of his mouth, there is nothing of Nil in it anymore.

“Outside.” On his demand they go together. As one might estimate the age of an oak tree by its quantity of rings, the length of existence for a Fell Child can be judged by different visual parameters; the cocked alertness of her spine, the clenched fingers down at her side, the primordial readiness of fight and flight. But it is futile, Rafal has made sure of his advantages from the moment they stepped out, the defective Child leading and Rafal at her back. It does not stop her from trying.

“I’ve left Gradlon behind. My ambitions, my dragonstone—everything. I have a family. You don't have to do this.”

His lips twist, amused, bitter, disbelieving, everything at once. He laughs with all his chest and says to the pleading red eyes that have damned her, neither gleeful nor triumphal, merely factual: “But I will. Did you think laying with a human and birthing his pups would absolve you of this struggle? Never.”

Those born of Gradlon cannot run even from the enemies they have never made. The dice their blood has cast for them from the moment each drew breath, hissing in the viper pit hundreds and thousands strong, wanting with all their wicked hearts to be the last and only one. Revanche, a conferred axe from Divine Dragons, points at her like a wielded guillotine, like Rafal is judge, jury, and executioner. The reality is only that he is rightful heir over it all.

And ultimately, like it has been for countless others, it is easy. She is nothing like Nel. Her atrophied strength does not compare, not the pitiful tooth she straps to her thigh - a single knife batted away - or the futile scrabble of her nails down his arm in her final throes. Her face is not remotely alike, too plain without the dragonkin's trappings of gold, that it evokes nothing when he stares into it, rips into it. So it is easy. 

“Mama! Mommy! Momm—”

Hair topples fully from the struggling bun, the apron like Rafal is white now freckled and stained. Rafal looks down at a homely brown-haired niece; a nameless, wretched, sorry inheritor of Fell Dragon legacy and sees nothing of her mother in her; there is everything of her human father about her. That does not leave him satisfied. He is the one that will not take chances.

...

Too soon, the truant father returns home from cutting wood, catching a young man in his home with an axe in his hand, his two greatest treasures shattered on the floor. His mouth opens to yell, to scream, to say anything at all. This noise stirs the wolf, startles him, provokes him, and for that there is movement—

. . .and then there is silence.

There is a cottage in the woods and no family inside.

#◜ ₊ — 𝓡 ˚ ₊ 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ╱ drabble. #how far do the alt!gradlon fell children go. how deep is the well. #the answer: This Deep #there is so much to unpack for rafal's pre-canon especially in the 'i killed all my siblings' department #thrown out in xenologue 5 then never mentioned again. but i Do feel like the [audible gasp] reaction from fx cast was appropriate

[rainymoodlet]

rainymood exclusive! our newest bachelor? daniel taylor re-emerges with surprise announcement for 'garage' fans.

you heard it here first! after ten years of peaceful retirement in the desert hills of starlight shores, host of "your dad's garage" daniel taylor has stunned fans new and old with the leaked confirmation that he will in fact be the latest bachelor chosen for simnation's "kiss me in komorebi".

that's right! another bachelor challenge for your feeds! i have always wanted to do one, and who better than with dan? the deadline for entries for this casting call is september 1st! for more info, see below!

more facts about daniel: you may recognize him from sammyshuno's mini bc! (known as david tyler) daniel taylor was known as the bob ross of the woodworking world in the 90s - the host of a thirty minute segment called "your dad's garage", his home improvement show lifted him to a b-level of fame and celebrity recognition for the two seasons it ran. however, while filming season three, an accident lead to a circle saw flying up and cutting him across the face. the injury took months to heal, and in that time, daniel's peak had come and gone, and he had no desire to win it back. he took a step back from showbiz, living out his "retirement" nestled in the wide mountain rages of starlight shores and rising to recent rekindled cult status with his tiktok channel and camping vlogs. what started as a fun way to re-engage with his hobbies became an opportunity for a new start in the spotlight, his agent said - and after the soft intro of being seen with jupiter york, the next step was clearly to sign him on for a show with a title that has the vibe of a mid-2000s kdrama... right?

general guidelines.

accepting sims of any gender identity, young adult/adult. daniel is 40 years old, and has been out of the limelight for the past 10 years. consider this for your sims! they may know him from the original run of his show, or his reruns, or his tiktoks, or... not at all!

occult friendly!

no romance-based traits (outgoing, etc. are allowed, but 'romantic' or 'alluring' are no-nos; unflirty is fine!)

please include their traits, aspiration, their age (in number) and their height! it might not be that important, but for posing? i'd like to know 😏

i love to read any kind of backstories, fun facts, or impressions or thoughts you have about your characters to give me a good idea of writing them! i love to set up my sims in-game with the traits, likes, and skills they're given in creation to have autonomy work as realistically as possible!

this will be a syndicated tv show, like nbc's the bachelor. it will include behind-the-scenes posts, too, things the cameras don't see (because third person omniscience, babey) consider this in your applications!

i will be combining all manner of mods and gameplay rules for this challenge: the first impressions system, wicked whims, etc. i've decided on two households of candidates, so that will be 14 sims in total!

use as much cc, skin details, etc. as you like, and feel free to give your contestant an outfit in every category! i only ask that you definitely give them a cold weather outfit, and that you keep it to one outfit per category.

the show will be taking place in mt. komorebi! it's gon be cold. daniel is a huge nerd and wants to do outdoor activities, hence...

please tag me in your posts with the @ feature!! or tag the post "rainymoodletbc"

thank you so much for reading this far! i hope you guys have as much fun writing your contestants as i have drumming this up! i will be coming out with more posts and information about daniel as the days go on: there's a lot going on right now, so i thought this would be a perfect time to drop a call for auditions!!

@foxsimthings @aniraklova @buglaur @morrigan-sims @adrasteamoon @hauntedtrait @gothoffspring (just taggin ppl who were interested i am not tellin you to make sims tylkjfslkj you don't have to!!)

#ts4 #ts4 edit #ts4 bachelor challenge #kiss me in komorebi #ahhhh its hereee #these are such lazy edits i feel but i just wanted to provide enough of a base post for y'all to get my drift ;~; #i am so excited and i can't wait to see what you guys will come up with!