Close Again And Closer Still

pray

"Kiss of Death"

This refers to the theory of Fyodors ability where his murderer gets to die. I think its a tragic concept in regards to Nikolai's goal on wanting to kill the person who's unable to die.

I recreate a scene from alienstage "Cure"

i cannot be normal about this man

i think they all (phantom included) assumed that dew hated phantom for a while because of how avoidant and quiet he was around the new bug but really all it was is that dew is Allergic to initiating anything and was just waiting for the day that phantom threw himself down on the couch next to him sitting close enough that their knees bumped touched and a quiet lil “hey dew” and that’s all the invitation dew needed to cuddle up and cling to phantom like cat hair on a sweater for the rest of forever ​phantom couldn’t get rid of him now even if he wanted to and ofc he doesn’t

thinking about how in the “just look my way” mv stolas and blitz are connected by a thread and it makes me think about the red thread theory… don’t worry guys they’ll make up eventually they’re soulmates

other people: i like husk for his personality, his voice, etc.

i like husk because he cat

🌈Chaggie🎀

love when bonnie does the thing

SNEAKING OUT OF HEAVEN || Waterparks [\m/]

Could we get something where Phantom/Aeon realizes for the first time he is truly safe and loved in the new pack

I sprinkled some of my Aeon headcanons/lore on this one, I hope you don't mind.

Aeon had a rough time in the Pit and is afraid the other ghouls will hurt him, he does have sensory issues and a meltdown, but all ends well.

Aeon is summoned, brought Topside, in a particularly chaotic time.

He's rushed through practices, learns to harness his magick and play guitar, and is thrown into a tour that lasts several months. Sure, he's in tight quarters with a bunch of strange ghouls, he gets to know them, grows to like them even, but he's constantly on his guard. He knows what other ghouls are like, especially to a runt of a quintessence ghoul like him, and has the scars and marks to prove it. He spends the entire tour doing his best to keep up, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Getting back to the Abbey after the tour ends is just as drastic a change. Aeon's a ghoul who thrives on routines. In the Pit, it was simple: Scavenge enough food and clean water to survive, avoid the roaming packs of ghouls looking for easy pickings, repeat. Tour is similar enough, try to get enough sleep, keep his energy up, perform his best every night, crash on the bus, repeat.

When the tour ends, Aeon is faced with a daunting amount of free time. Sure, he has chores and duties, but nothing as demanding as the touring he's grown accustomed to. He doesn't deal with change well, throws everything off rhythm and makes it so much easier to overload him. Aeon spends most of his free time holed up in his room, door locked to the rest of the ghouls.

It's a shitty morning to begin with. The neckline of his pajama shirt rests against his throat, nearly setting off his gag reflex as he wakes up. Aeon changes into somebody else's hoodie that made its way into his room. The smell isn't quite right, doesn't fit him the way he likes, but it's the only clean top he has, and Aeon can't bring himself to go do laundry. The lights are too bright, and Aeon hisses, pulling the hood over his shaggy hair to shield his eyes.

Aeon slinks out of his room, trying to avoid the others as he heads to the kitchen. He just wants to grab some food, some fruit or something, and dart back to the safety of his room.

Naturally, that isn't what happens.

Cirrus, Swiss, and Dew are all in the kitchen, talking loudly and laughing with each other as Cirrus slips out, steaming mugs in their hands. The fire and multi ghouls turn and swivel to face him as he enters. Aeon gulps, pinned in place by their gazes.

"Morning, sleepyhead. Nice hoodie," Swiss teases, tail swishing behind him lazily. He grins wide, and Aeon does his best to hide his flinch as Swiss bares his fangs.

"We haven't seen much of you lately," Dew observes, taking a long drink from his mug, locking eyes with Aeon as he drinks.

Aeon burrows further into the hoodie, claws worrying at hangnails as he tucks his hands in the front pocket. "Sorry," he whispers, tail flicking behind him. He shudders as the sensitive spade scrapes against the tile. Aeon shrinks back

"You're always hiding in your room," Dew says, brows furrowed slightly. "What, are you afraid of us?"

"We spent months in real tight quarters, buggy," Swiss says, reaching out and setting a hand on Aeon's shoulder. "I know you value your privacy, but you can't hide in there forever."

Aeon flinches, jerking his shoulder back from Swiss's hand. "I just want to get something to eat. Don't wanna get in anybody's hair."

"You're not," Swiss says, frowning slightly, and Lucifer, that stings. "We just wanna know why you don't want to spend time with us."

"Yeah, voidling, we were all buddy-buddy on tour," Dew adds on. "What happened? We didn't upset you, didn't we?" Dew reaches out, touches his chest, and Aeon feels himself pushed over the edge, past an overload and hurtling towards a meltdown.

"Why won't you all leave me the fuck alone?" Aeon snarls, eyes flashing white-hot silver. His ears pin flat to his head, his tail lashing behind him. He snaps his fangs at Dew's outstretched hand, quintessence crackling in purple bolts like static electricity along his skin, looking for all the world like a feral ghoul straight out of the deepest, darkest parts of the Pit.

Dew flinches back, eyes wide with an expression that Aeon wishes more than anything he could read. Swiss takes a step back, swallowing hard as he holds his hands up placatingly. Aeon feels his stomach flip, eyes blurring with tears.

He takes a shaking step back, away from the fire ghoul. He ignores the others calling his name. He can't tell if they're calling for him out of anger, itching to put him in his place for disturbing their tentative peace.

His brain tells him he's back in the Pit, alone and in danger, surrounded by bigger, stronger ghouls, and his body acts accordingly. His hands dig into his hair, covering his ringing ears, claws biting into his scalp. He shrinks away from them, squeezing his eyes shut as he backs himself into the corner, back sliding down the wall as he makes himself as small as he can.

Aeon opens his mouth to beg, to plead with them for forgiveness, but can't find his words, human language escaping him, stuck in his throat. He hears Cirrus step back into the room, butting past Dew and Swiss, and feels her presence as she crouches down near him.

"Darling," she whispers. "Sweetheart, can you tell me what's wrong? It's okay if you can't."

"Please don't hurt me," he chitters, the ghoulish easier on his tongue. "I'm sorry, please don't hurt me."

Cirrus straightens, turning back to the other ghouls as she shifts backwards, giving Aeon a little more space. "Boys, I need you to take three steps back."

Aeon can hear their footsteps, breathes a little easier. He keeps muttering in ghoulish, pleading her, waiting to feel her sharp claws make contact. Tears streak down his cheeks, and he can't control his sobs as he feels three pairs of eyes on him.

"We're not going to hurt you, Aeon," she says, voice soft like a breeze. "Why would we hurt you? Darling, you're pack."

That's enough to shock Aeon out of his tears, opening his eyes to meet hers. "I'm not anybody's pack," He says, voice shaking as Cirrus's face falls. "I've never been anybody's pack."

"You're our pack, Aeon," she breathes. "Darling, you are as much our pack as any of us here. I'm sorry we haven't been clear about it."

Dew nods, taking a hesitant step forward. "Voidling, we all love you. I swear to the Father Below, none of us will ever hurt you," he says, sinking to his knees by Cirrus's side, his hands palm up and open on his thighs. "I'm sorry we kept pushing you."

Aeon wipes his eyes with the oversized sleeves of his hoodies, sniffling as Swiss kneels at Cirrus's other side. There's enough distance between the three of them and him that he doesn't feel cornered, but something in him feels right having them close.

"What did you mean, buggy, that you've never been anybody's pack?" Swiss asks, gold eyes full of something Aeon realizes with a start is concern. "You don't have to tell us, we just want to understand."

Aeon makes eye contact with Swiss for the first time since he lashed out. "Nobody wants a quintessence runt," he whispers. "Been on my own for a long time."

"Aeon, voidling," Dew says. "You're not alone anymore. You don't have to be."

"Besides, we do want you, buggy," Swiss says. "We want you in our pack so much. We want to see you, more than just glances. We're not solitary creatures, you know."

Cirrus reaches out hesitantly, her hand open and non-threatening, claws glamoured away. "Can I touch you, darling boy?"

Aeon nods and launches himself into her arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her honeysuckle-jasmine scent. "You promise you're not gonna hurt me?" he whispers.

"May I be banished to the Pits if I break that promise, darling," she whispers in his ear. She notices the chunk missing from the shell of his ear, holds him closer as she purrs soothingly. Swiss sets a gentle hand on the small of his back, and Dew runs glamoured fingers through his shaggy hair. "You'll never be hurt again."

They kneel there on the kitchen floor for a while, until Aeon shifts uncomfortably. Cirrus moves to let him go, and he clings harder, whimpering. "Please," he whispers. "Just, my knees hurt."

Cirrus chuckles, shifting herself. "Mine too. Are you alright if we go to the couches in the common room? Far more comfortable than the kitchen floor."

He tenses, but nods, hesitantly extricating himself from Cirrus's arms. Swiss helps him to his feet, leading the group to the oversized futon in the common room. Aeon and Swiss lay down, Aeon curled up to the multi-ghoul's warm chest, his arms wrapped tight around him. Cirrus sidles up against Aeon's back, rubbing soft patterns along his bicep over the hoodie. Dew lays horizontal to them, letting Aeon rest his head on the softness of his stomach, purring like a rusty motor.

One by one, the other ghouls join the cuddle pile, Aeon in the center, and he's never felt safer in his life. He chuffs, safe and content, drifting off to sleep, surrounded by the soft breathing of his pack.