Archive of Our Own

New Years 2023.

Swiss sat alone, tucked away at the far edge of a pew. He’d chosen to sit a few rows removed from the middle walkway of the cathedral, or at least some part of him did. He didn’t remember choosing. He didn’t remember walking in here at all. He’d done it on autopilot. Even while piloting a human shell, a demon was always drawn to his ruler’s presence. Besides the crypts, the cathedral was where Lucifer felt closest to the surface.

He didn’t sit in the first row of seats, even if near the altar would have been the best spot to bask in his Lord’s companionship. He couldn’t bear to be this close. He felt he didn’t deserve it.

But he also didn’t sit at the very back of the church, which was where he typically spent mass. Swiss was much like an edgy teenager that didn’t want to go to church but was dragged there anyway by his parents - his Papa, in this case - so he couldn’t resist fucking around during the rites. Him and Dewdrop always sat at the back, cracking jokes under their breaths, elbowing each other in the ribs or kicking each other’s shins in a constant battle for space and who could make the other burst out laughing first. Sunshine even started to join their little band of mischief lately. They got reprimanded, but they didn’t care. Copia only sermoned them because he had to for appearance’s sake anyway, to maintain his strict image so the Siblings would follow his word like law. But the ghouls knew their Papa was as laid back as the rest of them, so he never really punished them in the end. There were many fun memories alive in the wood of this back row of seats, and that was precisely why Swiss’ legs instinctively avoided it. He also couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t sit where he’d smell the others.

So here he was. Awkwardly sat off center in the immense and immensely empty cathedral. Shrouded in darkness, because it was the middle of the night, besides the occasional flash of fireworks outside, distorted through the building’s grand stained glass windows. There were a couple of candles left burning at the corners of the hall, near the doors, and around the altar. But they were leftovers from the evening ceremony. They would go unmaintained until morning, where they’d be lit all over again by the assigned Siblings. Their flickering fires would go out as the night progressed, one by one. Swiss couldn’t bother getting up to fix them. The darker it would be, the less he’d be seen. For once in his life, ever flamboyant Swiss, perpetual center of attention Swiss, did not want to be seen.

He had a leg loosely extended in front of him; the other was folded up, heel on the edge of the bench, and Swiss had his arms wrapped around it. He lethargically rested his head on his knee. His tail laid limply on the pew. His brain was host to a million thoughts, his heart felt a storm of emotions, but his body felt nothing. His tail was usually so demonstrative when he had it unglamored: it would tap or swish or twitch, bluntly expressing whatever thought went through his head. Now, it was lifeless.

Swiss didn’t move. Barely breathed. His eyes were fixed on the kneeler at his feet, wide and unfocused. He didn’t see the kneeler, he saw through it. Probably through the floor tiles too. Through the earth, into nowhere. He saw nothing, nothing registered. He was somewhere else entirely: deep inside the confines of his mind where his thoughts had all the space in the world to run free. To ridicule and berate him. To insult him, his inner voice at the ready to criticize and mock. Beat him down with what he sadly held as firm truths.

How could you have been so stupid, it told him.

Why would you believe you’re important?

You’re nothing but a tool. A summoned demon put in a specific body for a specific purpose, that’s it. To even entertain the thought you could have been your own person, valued for who you are? What a profoundly human thought. A dumb one. A weak one.

You are of no value.

Nobody wants you or your help. You’re of no use.

You inconvenienced everybody.

You annoyed them, of course they sent you away. They all did, because you bothered them all.

You’re better off away from the pack anyway.

You were never loved, you were convenient. Then tolerated. Then rejected. As you deserved.

You’re not special. You thought you were. You’ve never been. You’ve been pathetic, useless and small since the beginning. You’ve deceived yourself.

See yourself for the worthless creature you truly are.

Swiss had never struggled with these thoughts before last year. But there was something pernicious about being incarnated on earth that made a demon’s soul more human, more susceptible to all this pain. Back in hell, self doubt was not something a multi ghoul would have ever suffered from. They were at the top of the food chain, what was there to be worried about? Swiss never had a clue he could feel so low. So disposable.

Swiss the multi ghoul. Unique. Indispensable. Confident. Overconfident, some would say, but it was warranted. He legitimately felt like hot shit, so he acted like it. Why not? He had no competition on earth. None. So he had no knowledge on how to deal with doubt. He was supposed to be the definition of pride. Yet here laid his ego, bled dry.

He wanted to beg his pack mates to help him deal with these emotions. Each of them would have something useful to say, he trusted them. Or he did. Now he didn’t have anyone left to turn to. He couldn’t reach for Rain’s soft voice or Dewdrop’s snark; for Mountain’s grounding energy or Cumulus’ sweetness; he couldn’t reach for Sunshine’s undying optimism, for Cirrus’ logical approach, for Aether’s healing. They’d all showed him they didn’t want him, and Swiss wasn’t dense. He may have believed he was irreplaceable, but after a whole year of being told otherwise? He got the message. He wouldn’t bother them again. He would deal with his inner darkness alone, should he get swallowed whole by it in the process.

And so, for the umpteenth time, his brain ran through everything that had happened in the previous year. Scrambling miserably to figure out patterns, recognize his faults, understand how things went so wrong.

He was doing so good too…

***

New Years 2022.

It was the beginning of the year and Swiss was hype about it. Not just because of the massive New Year’s Eve celebrations the abbey had concocted; not just because of the trouble him and Dewdrop had gotten into, though those two things had been oh so very fun.

They’d crafted firecrackers this time, the two of them. Dear Satan did they laugh. To be fair, their “firecrackers” ended up being closer to small bombs than the expected fireworks, but! The recipes they’d found on the internet were unclear at best, and the instructions did not account for literal fire magic being involved in the process ok, so it wasn’t their fault. The double trouble pair had spent the night running around Church property, setting their creations off in the night sky with a blend of Swiss’ wind to launch them high and Dew’s fire to make them explode. And sure, they’d had Siblings of Sin jumping out of their skins from the sound and heat of their small deflagrations, but how else were you supposed to celebrate New Year’s Eve, with no fireworks? Come on, Swiss and Dew had learned enough about human behavior and holidays in their years on the surface, that was how it was done! They were doing a service to the Ministry! They should have been paid as event entertainers or something.

They had their raucous play time until Sister Imperator had enough of the sound of explosions interrupting her work. She caught them of course; hard to be subtle when you’re setting off small bombs. In typical “golden child & chaos child” fashion, the multi ghoul had managed to get off almost scoff free while Dewdrop took the brunt of the blame. Everything was as it ever was.

No, besides the absolute batshit crazy, laughter-filled evening he’d just had, Swiss was just hype for everything that this new year on earth had to offer. The multi was one of those hopeful ghouls; he’d taken to that human emotion a bit too easily. When a new year began, all he saw was potential.

The band would go on new adventures. Maybe record or release new music. They’d leave on tour again, to hit new cities or countries. They’d get to travel. The multi ghoul was always thrilled to visit places he’d never gone to before. That meant more first experiences for him, first times tasting food or drinks from that place, first times experiencing new smells or hearing a language he didn’t know. The human experience was all about firsts, Swiss had discovered quickly, and they were his favorite.

A new year meant fresh Siblings of Sin to meet. To bother, to hit on, to have fun with. New faces that might catch his eye; or him, catch theirs.

This new year also meant a new summon for the Ghost camp apparently! Papa had spoken to them about it recently. In a few days, the band and their human tether would walk down into the crypts and hopefully add an eight member to their pack. Some ghouls were reticent; Swiss only felt excitement.

A new year also meant renewed heat cycles for the lot of them demons. No surprise there, that was what the hedonistic ghoul was the most eager about. Heats and ruts were intense things, complicated and messy, granted, but that only added to the thrill in Swiss’ mind. He couldn’t wait to be a part of everybody’s heats and ruts again! New Years felt like someone was refilling a buffet that Swiss would get to dive in face first soon.

Ghouls tended to treat their hormonal cycles like humans treated birthdays. It wasn’t like ghouls had birthdays to celebrate anyway, they were already born long before they were pulled out of the pits. Hell functioned on a very different clock than earthside. For demons to assign a special meaning to the exact date they were summoned was not common. Some species of ghouls, the water ghouls and water hybrids for instance, were influenced by the moon they got summoned closest to, so this acted as a “birthday” of sorts. But it pointed to a month more than a single date, so it was an approximation of a birthday at best. The rest of the ghouls didn’t care.

The time of the year their heats would pop though? Now that was a period they could assign meaning to. Up on the surface, many ghouls had cycles related to the seasons, to natural changes in their environment they could see. That made concrete sense. It was something they could track. From the winter moons to the winds of spring; from the summer parties to the withering of fall; a ghoul’s body and hormones would beat alongside earth’s natural pulses (besides quintessence ghouls who had their own void related internal clock going on, but never mind. The exception to the rule, as they said.) The pack’s entire year was mapped out with who got their heats when. It gave them something to look forward to. This calendar also gave Ghost something to plan around, to avoid heats hitting out of nowhere while they were on the road. It happened, mistakes were unavoidable and some of the musicians did run on pretty random timers to be fair. But for the most part Copia was careful about making sure his hell creatures could spend their cycles comfortably and safely at home.

Yes, when faced with the prospect of living another year on earth, in this body, with his pack and his people, Swiss felt sincere enthusiasm. He was excited for all the pleasure these next months would bring, all these opportunities to sin. He was excited to assist his pack through their cycles. To feel needed. To make himself indispensable, like he knew he was. Dependable Swiss. Reliable, trustworthy, unwavering, responsible Swiss. Always there when needed, always ready to help. Just like he was meant to be.

***

In January, Sunshine was summoned. Swiss had a soft spot for her immediately. He felt a natural sense of kinship with the young ghoulette because she had multiple elements too. She wasn’t a true multi, she couldn’t have been, of course. No matter how powerful Copia got when he ascended to papacy, Swiss was the only multi and it would remain that way. He was unique. He’d been told a million times. But Sunshine had two elements within, a hybrid Papa called it, so she could understand a bit of how Swiss felt. Dewdrop knew too, how it was to weave different elements. But Swiss had been told early on and in no unclear terms that nobody talked about Dew’s elemental change. He hadn’t pressed the issue since. He wanted to, because he was curious, sue him, but he had held back for years out of a strange sense of respect mixed with a bit of fear. He wasn’t keen to find out what that fight with the small fire ghoul would look like; he already knew it would be ugly. So he didn’t poke.

But with sunshine, he could poke. They talked about their elements incessantly in the first weeks, comparing power levels and the differences in the tricks they could pull, while the hybrid explored the human world for the first time. It was her first summoning and to get to see life on earth through her eyes, a fresh pair of eyes, it made Swiss a tad nostalgic, he couldn’t lie. He’d only been topside for four years but a lot had changed in that time. It proved surprisingly easy to get used to human existence. It was like their receptacle still retained a certain muscle memory for usual routines and behaviors. The novelty wore off. So to get to witness Sunshine’s naive wonder for earth, it squeezed the multi ghoul’s heart. Sunshine wore her name well: she made him smile.

***

February went by in a blur. Ghost were on tour in America, spreading the word of Satan as was their mission, reaping souls and new converts left and right. The whole pack shifted into band mode; they had a job to do. They may have been hellish creatures of sin and chaos but they were professional musicians too. Plus they had Sunshine to educate. Her first tour was something. It turned out the hybrid was, one: so excited to be on stage it actually looked odd and a tad insane for their human fans? And two: extremely thirsty for the other ghoulettes to the point that she’d shamelessly get on her knees or crawl for them during shows. At least it made for entertaining concerts and some fun news articles in music magazines to read on the bus. But boy was she a handful. An endearing, unhinged, bright handful. So yes, the band had more than enough on their plate to focus on anything else. Luckily there were no heats this early in the year. These first couple of months were a sort of dead zone the Ministry had green-listed as safe for booking rituals. The tour went well, the venues were packed, money and energy flowed into Lucifer’s Church, all was well.

***

Ghost returned home a few days into the month of March, just in time for the pack to start preparing for Rain’s first heat of the year. This was his main moon, his summoning moon, so this heat could be devastatingly strong. It could last for multiple days (as opposed to the water ghoul’s lesser moons that hit for a day tops, sometimes just a few hours) and satisfying Rain’s urges through his main heat wasn’t typically a one man job. Their beautiful, glittering little stream was known to exhaust his partners enough during this cycle he’d need one on rotation to take care of his needs while the other recovered. Swiss was first in the rotation every year. He’d asked Rain year one if he could assist him, and the water ghoul was fully on board since.

Swiss already felt his water core reacting to the full moon, ready to trigger the tidal wave of rut hormones that he’d need to fuck Rain through his heat. He looked forward to heeding his core’s call. It was always a special kind of release, when he allowed one of his carefully balanced elements to take over. Plus, let’s be honest here, he was also excited to have the pretty water boy begging for him in a heat haze for couple of days. Rain was always attractive, Swiss had eyes, but there was something downright mystical about Rain under the influence of his ironically named Chaste Moon. He was anything but chaste while drunk on moon magic. The multi ghoul could not wait to get a taste of Rain’s delicious desperation and wantonness again.

Of course when Ghost came home, everyone in the abbey swarmed Swiss the minute he was back, because the Ministry sure missed their odd job man when he was away. It was like this when every tour ended: tasks for the elemental handyman piled up while he was gone, and he was assigned everything at once the moment he stepped foot on Church grounds. He didn’t mind. In fact, he found it quite flattering! To know that his absence was so sourly felt, it stroked him the right way. He was important. He was necessary for the abbey to function. Nobody else could do the odd jobs he was given, because otherwise they’d have been lumped onto other people’s schedules already. So he tackled the string of post-tour tasks happily, running through them one after the other, taking care of anything that was sent his way. A true jack of all trades. It took him away from the pack for a week or two after each tour but his mates all knew that, it wasn’t a surprise. He never got negative comments about it. It was the norm. If anything, it made everyone miss him more, and the man couldn’t deny he loved being missed. It was an ego boost to know he was in his mates’ minds constantly while he was busy. It was the wind under his wings, carrying him through his checklist.

He made a point to finish every chore by March 17th; a day before Rain’s full moon. He reported to the needed authorities and took the next few days off. He didn’t confirm with the water ghoul before doing all of this, why would he need to? This was gonna be their fourth year on earth together and they’d spent Rain’s heat this way every year before. Swiss was expected to be there.

Once he was done with his final job, he headed back to his room. Changed out of his manual labor clothes: his oil-stained jean overalls, his dusty once-upon-a-time white tank top, his steel toe boots. He showered, freshened up. He hit up the mess hall to takeout supper, had the cooks pack it for him in a doggy bag. He specifically asked for foods he knew Rain enjoyed: warm comfort food, fish or seafood-based, heavy on the vegetables. Tonight it was some steaming hot creamy chowder soup, packed full with clams and root veggies (and some fish and chips for himself, because he wasn’t much of a soup guy). Throughout Rain’s heat, whenever he wouldn’t be on active duty, Swiss would come back to ask for the same type of meals to bring back to the omega. It was his job to keep him full, and not just full of dick.

He knocked on the door to Rain’s chambers with an elbow, carefully balancing a pile of styrofoam containers in his hands. He knew this close to nightfall the omega would be in here.

“It’s open!” Rain called from inside.

Swiss chuckled. The extend to which he struggled to pull the lever handle down and push the door while holding all this food was silly. But he managed eventually, squeezing himself in the doorway with a big smile and a “Hey angelfish! Did you eat yet?”

“Swiss?” Rain stared at the other ghoul, mid way through throwing a thick comforter over a pile of pillows and cushions on the floor. “What are you doing here, I thought you were swamped with all the stuff Imperator and everyone else asked you to do?”

“I was! ‘Had to rush to be done in time for you, but I did it.” The multi ghoul shot the omega a wink, then set down the food on what was left of free space on Rain’s desk. He pulled a foot stool up to it and sat, legs spread wide. Comfortable. Confident. Cocky. He was feeling good. “You know I wouldn’t miss your heat for the world.”

“Oh, of course,” Rain’s eyes flicked down, away from the beta, then back to him. “I thought-”

Swiss spoke over him, nudging his head towards the mountain of soft things Rain had gathered. “Nice nest! You’ve been hard at work huh?”

Rain swallowed his previous thought, the nest compliment turning his cheeks a nice shade of pink instead.

Not all omegas nested when their heats approached, but the water ghoul sure loved to do it. It was one of the ways he prepared, so he’d get in a good headspace. To comfort himself, make sure he could rely on his environment to meet his needs. He liked to stack his room full of everything soft: comforters, blankets (weighted, electric, fleece, knitted), bed sheets, fluffy towels; pillows of different shapes and firmness, cushions (plain or decorative, but he had to be wary of bad textures for the later, no matter how pretty they were.)

He tugged on the corner of the comforter he’d just laid down to smooth it out.

“It’s not done yet,” he reflexively batted the praise away, but his smile reached his eyes. “Cumulus’ gonna bring me some of her plushies later.”

“How nice of her!”

“You remember the huge rainbow fish plush she got during the tour?”

“How could I not,” Swiss snorted, “that damn thing took my space on the couch for a week!” He said that with affection. Not a single soul in the Ministry could get mad at Cumulus, and especially not when it had to do with her compulsive buying and hoarding of stuffed animals, AKA the cutest problem a person could have. “She’s gonna lend it to you?”

Rain nodded, his smile pulling up his cheeks in an adorable manner.

Satan, Swiss had it bad for the guy.

“Then you’re gonna have the best nest this year, no competition.” The beta’s eyes glinted and his dimples showed when Rain reacted bashfully to the compliment. The multi ghoul tapped the desk next to him with his knuckles. “Come eat. I’m sure you forgot, I know how you get when you’re nesting.”

The omega didn’t deny it. He slid on his chair to face the styrofoam containers damp with condensation and steam.

“I swear I was gonna go after I was done.”

“Well now you got room service, aren’t you spoiled,” Swiss joked.

Rain took the plastic lid off of his pot of chowder, hummed happily at the smell that wafted from it. The rectangular container next in line had some steamed mixed veggies in it, and the third one was fried food, so he pushed it right over to his mate with a “bleh” sound and an offended wiggle of his nose. Swiss huffed, opened the lid and shoveled a couple of forkfuls of fries down the hatch before he spoke again.

“So, besides the plushies, ready for tonight? We’re gonna have a good time.”

We.

Rain froze with a spoonful of soup suspended in the air; a thick glob of it rolled from under the spoon and plopped in the pot.

“Oh, I asked Dewdrop to help me actually, so-”

“What?” Swiss asked around a half chewed mouthful of thickly battered fish.

Rain turned to him with an innocent expression, but a raised eyebrow at the question.

“I asked Dewdrop? For my heat.”

“…Ok?” Clearly Swiss didn’t register what Rain meant. He made a “pass me this” gesture with his hand, pointing towards vinegar packets in the small pile of plastic utensils and paper napkins that had come with the cafeteria takeout.

Rain handed him one with a slight twinge of annoyance in his motion.

“He’s coming over later. Like,” the water ghoul looked back over his shoulder at the alarm clock on his bedside table, “in less than an hour.”

“You wanna start your heat with Dew?” That was strange. Swiss had taken care of Rain first for all of his heats before, and someone else would step in once he tapped out. Swiss came first. That's what he was used to. So Rain’s decision was unusual... But after the beta gave it a thought, he shrugged.

“That’s fine, I can wait ‘til you wear him out. I took a few days off so I’ll be available for you anytime. I probably won’t tap into my water rut until I jump in then? Cause I dunno how well I’d hold back once I awaken my core. But in the meantime I can even hang out here, if you two want a spectator?” He tried to make one of his salacious smiles but it felt a smidge contrived.

“Um-”

Swiss waved a hand dismissively. “I’m joking. Anyway. You know Dew won’t be enough to take you through your main moon is all I was sayin’.”

“I know. That’s why I asked Aether too.”

Swiss’ fries turned sour in his mouth, and it wasn’t because of the vinegar. They weren’t pleasant to swallow. He placed his fork down and turned to Rain, abandoning his meal altogether.

“Aether? Isn’t his rut in two, three weeks?”

He phrased that as a question, but he knew exactly when the alpha’s rut was scheduled. It would hit on April 5th; Ghost left on their European tour four days later. They gave the quintessence ghoul ample time to fuck out his hormones so he could step on the tour bus with a clear mind. Aether knew months in advance when his next cycle would be, he’d known about this April cycle since last year when the European tour got booked. Papa had organized everything in accordance. And Swiss knew all of this by heart because he planned to be with said quintessence ghoul during his rut getting knotted ten ways to Sunday-

Rain shifted away slightly. He was more sensitive to people’s energies when he was on edge, and his big heat still made him nervous. He felt Swiss’ vibe shift, he felt how the other man bristled reflexively and he didn’t need that kind of energy right now.

“It was in a couple of weeks, yes, but Aether said he could speed it up, make it pop ahead of schedule to help me, so-”

“How’s he gonna do that?” Swiss cut Rain off again.

The water ghoul snapped his head towards him. “I don’t know Swiss, since when am I the expert on weird quintessence time magic? You ask Aether if you really want to know!”

Swiss raised his hands, palms facing the omega in a appeasement motion.

“Woah! I’m sorry,” he tried to laugh the tension off. “Don’t take it like that. I’m just confused? I assumed we’d do your heat together like we’ve always done.”

Rain deflated.

“I didn’t- We,” he slicked his lips with his tongue. “You were so busy, we didn’t even get to talk once since we got back home.” He turned back to his soup, because speaking to clam chowder was easier than speaking to his mate. “I wanted to ask you what was the plan for this year but every time I tried to find you, you were dragged to some odd job or another. You practically had a cue of Siblings waiting for your help and I’m not gonna cue to speak to my mate, so I thought-” He used taking a bite of food as an excuse to collect his thoughts. “You know I need to plan in advance.”

“Of course I know, angelfish,” Swiss spoke softly, offered Rain a loving smile to help dissipate a bit of his nerves. “I know your main heat is still scary. The earlier you plan for it, the safer you feel. It’s ok, I’m sorry I couldn’t find the time to ask you how you wanted your heat to go this time. I shouldn’t have assumed. It’s your body, of course you choose who you’re gonna give it to.”

Choice was a key element of a safe and comfortable experience. All ghouls except multis - except Swiss - couldn’t choose if a heat would hit or not and how hard it would take them. These hormonal cycles were a biological imperative. A ghoul’s body would go into heat no matter if they wanted it to or not. So getting to choose everything else around it? Who to offer your heat to, where to spend it in, what activities would take place during, that was the key to doing a heat right. Ethically. Consensually.

Swiss had the choice. He could opt in to any elemental pull he wanted, or stay out of it like his default state was. So letting the other ghouls shape their own heat experiences was the least he could do.

“It’s not that I don’t want you around. Of course I want you to help but I already asked the others so I can’t…” Rain began explaining.

Swiss could tell the omega was working his way towards an apology and he did not want one. There was no reason for this sweet ghoul to apologize right now.

“I know.”

“You were just so busy all the time and I didn’t want to add days of attending to me on the pile of shit you had to do, you were already spread so thin-”

“Rain,” Swiss reached out for the omega, laid a reassuring hand on his upper arm. “You’re good. You were trying to throw me a bone. I fucked up by assuming. We’re ok.” He offered him a caring smile, but the lovely crows feet at the corner of his eyes weren’t engaged in it.

The water ghoul nodded though. Didn’t notice. Squeezed his hand.

“Thank you for the food.”

Swiss hummed. “If you need delivery during your heat, have someone text me, I’ll help you guys out.”

“Ok.”

Swiss rose from his stool, stretched with a grunt - Lucifer he was more tense than he’d thought, that takeout supper had not gone the way he’d intended to. He grabbed his box of fish and chips, styrofoam squeaking under the point of his claws.

“I’ll leave you to it then. Wouldn’t want to impose on your and Dewdrop’s private time.”

Rain looked like he wanted to say sorry again but he bit his tongue. He tipped the beta his bowl of soup instead.

“Have a great heat Rainy, talk to ya’ on the other side.”

“See you.”

Swiss walked out the door. Down the corridor, back to his own room, half eaten meal in hand. He felt… He had no clue how he felt, actually. He wasn’t mad, that was for sure. And he was happy Rain had Dewdrop and Aether to carry him through his main moon, genuinely. They were a perfect duo. He knew the water ghoul would be safe and well taken care of. He was a bit disappointed? Somewhere inside there was a twinge of that, but he couldn’t blame Rain for anything. Swiss was the one who had expectations that he didn’t confirm beforehand. When the omega said he had tried to find him but couldn’t, Swiss believed him.

But there was a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. An ego bruise. He felt weirdly insulted. He hadn’t been first this time. And he always went first. That part left a bad taste in his mouth.

He dismissed it. No need to be this dramatic.

He settled in his quarters for the night, pointedly trying to ignore the thought that a few doors down, two of his mates, soon to be three, would have fun without him. He didn’t know what to do with his unexpected free time. He’d taken days off of work, for what? Swiss didn’t have free time usually.

He scratched at his guitar a bit, just to keep his hands busy. He tried to play a video game Copia had lent him with one of his retro consoles but he couldn’t concentrate. Too much text on the screen. He apathetically reheated his supper with a flick of his inner fire, but he picked at the plate at best, no appetite. He tried to ignore the clock. He drew his curtains so he’d stop looking outside his window every few minutes to check on the position of the moon. He felt his water core vibrate from the planet’s magnetism anyway, magic fluttering just under the surface, waiting for him to tap in, open the floodgates. He didn’t. He had no reason to anymore.

Eventually the hours wasted away and he tried to go to sleep. It wasn’t easy while his core’s pings got more insistent the higher the Chaste Moon rose in the sky. He ignored how his fire core woke up too, reacting to nearby heats. That must’ve been Dew he felt. He stared at the ceiling, laid flat on his back over his covers. He didn’t sleep great, but he did fall asleep at some point. Small victories.

He woke up around noon. Even through thick stone walls and well sealed doors, the air in Swiss’ room smelled like Rain’s pheromones. He grumbled. It was strange to be surrounded by this scent while he wasn’t the one to taste it, to bask in it, to make Rain loose his mind around his knot- He sprang up. Got dressed, tossed his forgotten fish and chips in the trash and left. In the hallway, Rain’s scent was even stronger. There was Dew’s burnt caramel scent mixed in too, and yep, that was Aether. There was another strong scent too, something much sweeter and tropical? The multi scrunched his nose. He had no clue what that was and he wouldn’t stick around to find out. He beelined out of the dormitory to the mess hall.

He found Mountain there, sat at the band’s usual table. He waved him hello, got a nod for an answer. He joined him after scoring a tray full of steaming scrambled eggs, crispy bacon and two black coffees.

“It’s a bit late for breakfast,” the earth ghoul rumbled gently while he scooted to the side to make space next to him.

Swiss sat close to the earth ghoul, sides flushed. “It’s my first meal of the day. I’m breaking my fast, big guy, lemme have this,” he cackled.

Mountain huffed affectionately.

Somehow the drummer knew to not question why Swiss was here with him while Rain was in the dorms, in heat. They did speak about the situation as they ate, but it was more Mountain explaining how he felt nothing from all the pheromones in the air because his core was still dormant this month. It would reawaken soon, but at the moment it hibernated. Mountain pointedly avoided the question he wanted to ask, and Swiss wasn’t keen on tackling the elephant in the room either.

Halfway through their meal, Sunshine excitedly ran in the cafeteria, followed by Cirrus and Cumulus holding hands a few feet behind. The hybrid was positively glowing. She ran full speed towards Swiss and Mountain, to grab the multi’s shoulders in an enthusiastic hug as she squealed “I got my heat!!”

“What?” Swiss rose with a wide smile on his face, teeth and dimples on full display, and this smile reached his eyes. “No way! Sunny!” He grabbed her tiny figure and lifted her like she weighed a feather, twirling her while he congratulated her. She dissolved into bright giggles at the praise.

When he set her down, the air ghoulettes had joined them at the table: Cumulus sat across them, Cirrus propped herself up on the table’s corner. Mountain didn’t get up but he pulled Sunshine in a side hug.

“Congratulations, sunflower.”

He ruffled her copper hair; she beamed.

“So that’s the new scent I picked up on,” Swiss mused as he sat again.

“Doesn’t she smell divine?” Cirrus breathed in with closed eyes and a pleased expression. The hybrid ghoulette ran behind Cumulus to hide her blush for a second, before she gave up and sat next to her air mate.

“So you are on a fire cycle then? Confirmed?” Mountain asked.

“Yep!”

Swiss felt thrill course down his spine, leaving tingles of excitement in its wake. Another ghoul on a fire cycle. The potential! The doors this opened! The sheer amount of trouble and pleasure they could get into!

“Lucifer, we’re gonna have so much fun with this Sunny, you have no idea!”

“Not so soon,” Cirrus corrected immediately.

Swiss turned to her and frowned.

“She’s not ready to go off and pop heats left and right by herself yet,” the alpha ghoulette clarified. “I still need to teach her how to control it so she doesn’t get pulled by every ghoul in heat in a ten mile radius, for one. She has a lot to learn. It’s my job to make sure she learns to navigate earth properly.”

“It’s our job,” Swiss pointedly rectified, “Sunshine’s our pack mate.”

Cirrus scowled at him. “Sunshine’s in my care. Papa put her in my hands and you were there to hear it like everyone else. As her dominant and her alpha, it’s my role to protect her from-”

“From what, me?” Oh, ok, Swiss was still a bit on edge. He was weirdly easy to offend today, seemed like; a consequence of yesterday’s rejection most likely but he wasn’t about to let the others know that.

For as much as they loved each other, him and Cirrus butted heads often. They both had the most extroverted dominant personalities in the pack so they would clash, especially when they vied for the same thing. Swiss felt uncharacteristically ready for a fight today. A good verbal scuffle would let off some steam. He'd love the outlet.

Cirrus thankfully caught on. She raised an eyebrow questioningly but steered the conversation to a safer place:

“From the world, you idiot. After we took a bath earlier? I had to teach Sunshine what a hair dryer was because she got scared of it, ok? You don’t want my job.”

“Hey!” the hybrid huffed indignantly, “It’s a machine that makes a nasty screeching noise and you held it up to my hair! I love my hair!” She mocked outrage but she was barely holding back laughter. Cumulus poked her in the ribs and that broke the damn.

Swiss took in the portrait of his mates having fun. Cirrus still looked at him with an expression that silently asked “you ok man?”. The multi was too snappy for the joyous atmosphere. Nobody here deserved his attitude. He shook his head subtly at the air ghoulette to let her know they were better off dropping it. It was nothing.

It truly was nothing. Swiss had no reason to be offended at Rain’s decision yesterday, at the girls today, no reason at all. Being this susceptible wasn’t a good look, and the man made a point to look good. He'd let it go.

***

In early April, before Ghost set out on tour, Swiss did the mature thing and asked Aether to meet for a chat. Just to clear the air, so they wouldn’t be uncomfortable around each other on the bus. Aether had the same idea. He was waiting to get on the road to talk, but same difference.

Swiss managed to calmly share how he felt let down when he’d learned Aether gave his rut to Rain instead of him. They had agreed to spend the quintessence ghoul’s rut together last year, Swiss expected Aether to remember. So to have the alpha speed up his internal clock to serve Rain instead, it stung.

Aether listened. Heard his mate out. He then explained his side of the story. How quintessence is built to help and heal, how it’s in his nature; how, when asked for assistance by a rather panicked Rain who felt he had to change his plans at the last minute because he couldn’t find Swiss, his element reacted very strongly. He didn’t think twice, because he was compelled to aid.

He admitted he had forgotten about his prior plans with Swiss. That made the multi wince. He felt insulted again: how could anyone forget about him? Swiss was unforgettable. He stood out, he was special, the mere thought of being overlooked made him reel. Like his brain could not compute this possibility. It was jarring. But it was also something he would have to reckon with on his own. Because if the situation had been reversed and Rain ran to Swiss for help? He would have dropped all prior plans to take care of the sweet boy. He knew that. You didn’t resist Rain, especially a panicked Rain. They all felt a need to protect him. So the blemish on his pride? He’d swallow. He couldn’t fault Aether for caring for their water boy when he would have done the same.

They shook on it. Situation resolved. Aether offered his bed to Swiss anytime, which the multi already knew he had access to. A regular fuck wasn’t what he wanted though. He wanted to tap into a heat along with someone. He could fuck any day. But to synchronize a cycle with someone else’s, to be the one to assist, to help someone through it? That was special. That was an experience much unlike regular sex, and this intensity was what Swiss was after. So they made a promise instead. Aether’s next rut would belong to Swiss, as an apology. Swiss laughed while he warned the alpha he should make damn sure he wouldn’t forget him next time, but the threat behind his words was real. Aether took it on the chin. He agreed.

Then Ghost set out on their European tour, and all hormonal cycle business was relegated to the back burner again.

***

May was almost over when they returned to the abbey. It was right back to heat business when they landed, as the air ghouls’ cycle was fast approaching.

The air demons took over a whole wing of the dorm building for the occasion, transforming one of the big open plan halls and the common room attached to it into a massive communal nest. There were dozens of air ghouls and air hybrids walking in and out of the space, pooling together their belongings to build the the greatest nest possible. All windows were opened to let in the warm spring-to-summer shifting wind, their collective heat trigger. The space rang with echoes of laughter and songs, demons joyously setting up and waiting for what they called the first bloom, the first one of them that would be taken over by their cycle. They all would pop, one after the other over a few weeks, staggered in a beautiful wind song. The entire affair was unhurried, lazy, pleasant and bright. There was no stress here, no rush. You didn’t rush nature. You didn’t rush spring, you didn’t rush flowers that bloomed. So the air ghouls never pushed each other. They just let it happen. Each ghoul’s cycle would last two or three days, but they waited as a community for the very last of them to be done with their heat to call the ceremony over. So they wouldn’t leave or take down the nest until mid June probably. The air ghoul orgies were a beautiful affair.

Swiss walked in the communal nest like he owned the place, happy, comfortable and ready. A portion of him belonged here, and the air ghouls weren’t known to refuse a stray wanderer of another element anyway. The multi’s presence was not only accepted but predicted: he was with them every year.

He spotted Cirrus sitting on a window ledge, Cumulus and Sunshine working below her to set up their corner of the great nest. He walked up to them, careful to not step on someone else’s pillow along the way.

“Hi Swiss!” Cumulus saw him first and waved.

Sunshine poked her head from below a pile of Cumulus’ stuffed animals and ran up to him for a hug. The multi held her tightly and nuzzled at her neck before being lead by the hand to the group.

Cirrus nodded his way with warm eyes; he smiled back.

“Ladies.” He delivered Sunshine back to her pile of soft things then curtsied as a joke. “Almost ready?”

“Getting there,” Cirrus gestured to the hustle and bustle around them. “The last few air ghouls are finishing up whatever job they were tied up in and should be here within the day. Then we wait for the first bloom.”

“Lovely!” The multi ghoul walked up to Cumulus to take her hand and kiss it, in true gentleman fashion. The ghoulette blushed but happily let him. “I’m ready to tap in my air core whenever you girls want,” he looked deep in Cumulus’ eyes and winked, “and then we’ll have a heat to remember.”

“We sure will!” Cirrus hopped from her window. “Did you pick who you were gonna spend it with?” She was genuinely interested in her mate’s plans so she looked up with a loving, curious expression, but the look on Swiss’ face immediately told her something was wrong.

Swiss froze. Who? What did she mean, who?

“You three…?” He trailed off.

Cirrus’ face fell. The other ghoulettes’ too. Cumulus looked away; Sunshine grimaced.

Swiss’ head twitched as he bit the inside of his cheeks. He knew what Cirrus was gonna say before she even began.

“Oh Swiss, I’m sorry, we talked about this before, right? In March? Sunshine’s not ready to be with you guys yet. This is going to be her first time, me and Cumulus are teaching her-”

“It’s not her first heat though. You’ve been teaching her.”

“It’s her first air heat, and those are rather different from the fire heat that she’s only experienced once, by the way.” There they went, Cirrus and him standing off again. “How many heats did it take you to get used to them?”

“Zero.” Swiss crossed his arms. “I was used to them before I got pulled here, because that’s what our bodies are meant to do.”

“Well you’re not on your first incarnation, aren’t you? Sunshine is, it’s different!”

To the side of them, they heard the faint sound of Sunshine mumbling “I think I’m ready?” into a plushy, and Cumulus’ own voice cajoling: “Sure sunbeam, let’s take it one step at a time alright?”

Cirrus brushed her silken hair behind her ears. She stepped towards Swiss, reached for one of his hands. She held it in both of her own, rubbing soothing circles on top of it with a thumb. She loved this man. She really did, she did not like to have to keep him at arm’s length. But she had a mission. Papa had appointed her as Sunshine’s guardian. Plus the ghoulettes themselves had decided that as a dominant, she’d be Sunshine’s protector. Teaching someone proper kink etiquette could take years. Same went with the ethics of non-monogamy. And she did all of that on top of teaching the young demon how to live as a human from absolute scratch. It was a herculean task. She’d do it, but she needed time. She didn’t feel she took too long: Sunshine had only been with them for five months! It was only fair that she would school the hybrid thoroughly before she let her go off to play with the boys. Only because she knew how rough some of them played; Swiss was right at the top of that list with his edge play and mind games. She would get her protégée up to speed first. She would let Sunshine make her own safety and play decisions soon, but it wouldn’t happen so quickly.

She tenderly looked up from Swiss’ hand to his eyes.

“You’re more than welcomed to watch. We would love to have you around. You can settle with your heat partners right next to us, it can be a great time.” Swiss’ smile turned into a tight line as she spoke. “I swear you’ll have half of the air nest ready and eager to be with you. Take your pick. It would be a privilege for any of them, you know that.”

Not enough of a privilege for you three to want me, the thought flashed in Swiss’ mind.

He pulled his hand away.

“I’m good.” His voice scraped more than he’d expected. He cleared his throat.

The rational part of his mind considered the offer. When had Swiss refused an orgy, even if it had to be side by side with the others? It did sound fun, but the multi could not get himself to want anyone else. He didn’t want random air ghouls. He wanted his mates. And for all the love he had for denial games, what he liked was to deny his partners, not to be denied himself. He was a hedonist, what Swiss enjoyed was to touch everything, to smell, taste, feel everything, not to have to sit on his hands while he watched others indulge in what he couldn’t have.

“I’m good,” he repeated, more to convince himself than the ghoulettes.

He walked backwards for a step, another, another, accidentally walked over a ghoul’s cushion. He pulled away from it like he’d stepped on hot coals, apologizing, waving his hands in front of him. The ghoul in question didn’t mind, but he didn’t let them express that.

“You girls have a great time together,” he still spoke to his mates while he put distance between them and him. It was ok. He wasn’t needed this time. He’d only get in the way of the ghoulettes enjoying their heats. Theirs was a one time a year affair, he couldn’t ruin it. He knew when to take a hint. If he couldn’t help, then he’d just leave.

“If you need anything during the heat, let me know.” Because he had to offer still, make himself available. He had to provide, even when hurt. “See you in two, three weeks!” Like he wouldn’t miss them. He jerkily waved, not really looking at any of them, and just like that he was out of the communal nest.

He waited until he rounded the corner, away from prying eyes, to run a hand in his hair, fingers gripping his tight curls and pulling hard. Just to see if that would take a bit of the pain away from inside his chest. Release the pressure. Let him breathe.

He spent a few days on his own after that. Couldn’t bear to hear and smell the sacred communion he was denied.

***

June came around. The air heat was well underway and it would last until the middle of the month according to this year’s weather forecast. Rain’s second moon was coming up soon and he was worried Swiss was mad at him.

It only made sense. After their kerfuffle in March, there had been some tension lingering between them. He wasn’t sure the multi even realized he had become guarded? But he had. Just a little bit, but Rain was sensitive to these discreet emotional shifts. Swiss probably thought Rain had gone behind his back to reorganize his main heat - which wasn’t false, per se, the water ghoul just hadn’t meant it that way - thus he had every right to be miffed.

So when Rain saw Swiss walk into the air communal nest late last month, he wasn’t surprised. It so happened that this year, the air heat and Rain’s minor moon overlapped. Swiss picking the ghoulettes over him was fair game. The multi had earned a positive, pleasurable, worriless heat experience after all of this. One where he’d be wanted and included. The air orgies were notoriously fun. It suited Swiss, he deserved to indulge for a couple of weeks. Rain’s lesser moon would only last a night at most. He would manage without the beta.

He thought about going in the air nest to find Swiss, initially. To ask for his help directly for his Rose Moon heat. Clear the air. Reestablish the closeness they had before. It sounded like a good idea at first, but Rain could not bring himself to make the move.

He didn’t want to do that to the ghoulettes. Walking in their nest, to grab their rut partner and drag him away for himself? Yeah, the water ghoul wasn’t a prick like that. He didn’t have a special right to Swiss. Not more than anyone else. That was a key element of how the Ghost polycule functioned. There was no relationship hierarchy. Every ghoul was equal. Every relationship was equal. Everyone had equal access to all of their other partners. They compromised and shared, took each other’s input, made this work in a way where nobody felt inferior. Rain didn’t have veto power. Over Swiss or anyone else, no matter how special his bond with the multi was. To interrupt Swiss’ air heat for his own benefit? That wasn’t right.

Some small part of Rain’s heart, the selfish part, wanted to do it anyway. But his brain won, of course. He was a rational being. So he called Dewdrop again. That was the easy solution. It had gone well last time with Dew and Aether, plus with a minor heat, one partner would be enough. Dew’s fire would burn for a few hours, Rain’s Rose Moon only lasted a night, they’d be perfectly timed. And Rain wouldn’t egotistically steal Swiss away from anyone. There, problem solved.

So when there was a knock on Rain’s door at half past 10PM on June 13th, right before the moon would pull the water ghoul under for good, Rain’s blood turned cold. Dewdrop’s hands and mouth were already on him. The fire ghoul had just tapped into his core and triggered his own cycle to be able to keep up. Their night had already begun.

The door opened. Swiss was not supposed to be here. He was in the air nests, he was with the ghoulettes, so why…?

There was no “Hey angelfish!” like the multi ghoul usually said when he entered Rain’s room. No “Have you eaten yet?”. Just a weird stretch of silence as the three ghouls froze in place, the wet “thump” of takeout food being dropped on the floor, and finally:

“Again?!”

Rain let out a pitiful whine.

“You were with the girls!”

“What?” Swiss hissed. He stepped over the doggy bag of food and let the door fall close behind him.

Dew and Rain were already on the bed. They detangled, Rain kneeling on the mattress, Dew now half climbing off of it.

“I wasn’t with the girls, what are you talking about?” Swiss sounded hurt. His words had an edge. An edge that the man had no clue whether to turn against himself or the others yet.

“I saw you go inside the air nest.” Rain instinctively gripped the edge of the mattress, squeezing the raised, bumpy stitching of it under the fitted bed sheet to ground himself.

“I was not with the girls-”

“Don’t lie to me!”

The multi recoiled. He furrowed his brows, but not in anger. In sadness.

“When have I ever lied to you Rainy?”

“I checked,” Rain choked out, “you were in the nest, I checked.”

Swiss swallowed thickly. He brought a hand to his forehead, ran his thumb and forefinger over the bones. He could already feel the headache coming.

He didn’t know what to tell him. The omega wasn’t wrong, he’d gone in the air nest, for minutes, and truly it must’ve been a cruel joke from the universe that Rain had been present at that exact moment. He didn’t want to recount how he’d gotten turned away by the ghoulettes. Or how he’d been offered to watch, fucking hell why did this one still sting this bad. The cut was fresh; Swiss grappling to find the words was like dripping peroxide on it, letting the wound foam, bubble and burn while he decided on what to say. Spilling his guts to Rain would have been one thing, but Dewdrop was right there, his fire core free-flowing, heat leaking out and Swiss’ brain couldn’t focus.

“They had no use for a male,” he settled on ultimately. Because that wasn’t a lie.

Dewdrop scoffed. “Anybody can go to the air nest buddy, try again.”

Swiss turned to the fire ghoul and snarled. Exposed teeth to make it obvious he wasn’t fucking around.

“They. Had no use. For a male,” he repeated pointedly, this time looking directly at Dew and flashing the multicolored hue of his own eyes in response to the other ghoul’s fiery glare. “They wanted this heat to be a girls thing. They wanted to teach Sunshine themselves. They didn’t need my help.” They didn’t want me, his brain provided, but thankfully he bit this one back before he said it out loud.

“I didn’t know,” Rain murmured. “I went to the nest, I checked to make sure because my heat and theirs overlapped, Swiss I swear.” He sounded crestfallen, eyes resolutely glued to the floor.

Rain was upset. He couldn’t believe he’d messed up again but it was an honest mistake, he was so sure Swiss would have been neck deep in pussy by this point and unavailable to help him. Rain had done the right thing. He just didn’t want to impose on Swiss and the girls’ time, Satan he just tried to be kind!

Rain was getting agitated; Dewdrop picked up on it immediately. He moved to stand between his mates. Ready to mediate. Or intervene.

“Back off Swiss.” He sounded surprisingly calm for someone who’d triggered their heat less than ten minutes ago. For now he had some self control left.

“Excuse me?” Swiss was gobsmacked by the gall of the little guy.

“I said what I said.” Dewdrop stood his ground. “You two can talk it out tomorrow. Figure your shit out later for all I care but not now. It’s late, the moon’s high, Rain’s this close to being forced under, back the fuck off.”

Swiss let out a low growl. He contemplated ripping Dew’s head from his neck for a second. Unleashing the beast, going off on him. But he held back. He didn’t want to ruin Rain’s heat. The water ghoul had chosen Dewdrop again as his cycle partner, what right did Swiss have to feel offended. Maybe him and Rain didn’t have a bond as special as he’d thought after all. Maybe Swiss wasn’t so unique, so worthy anymore. Anyone else could do the job, clearly.

Before he made the situation worse than he already had, he turned heel, slamming Rain’s bedroom door behind him. As he walked away, he faintly heard the omega repeat “I checked, I really checked, Dew,” and Dew comforting him, stating how he believed him. The multi didn’t stick around to hear more.

***

At the height of the summer heat; during these humid and heavy days where it was nigh impossible to take a full breath; those days where the sun blazed down so harshly there was hardly night anymore, that was when the fire ghouls reveled. They partied, they lit bonfires, they drank and got lit themselves. The Siblings of Sin who partook in lust and substances could take their vacations and go party with the ghouls. At their risk and peril, mind you, though more often than not the fire demons just gave them the fuck of their lives and sent them on their way with minor burns.

The bonfires in the sweltering heat of July was a tradition Swiss loved. He ran, not walked, when the time came. The band would bring some instruments down, they’d sit around the sky high fires, Swiss with his acoustic, ghouls and Siblings singing along with him. One more way for him to be the center of attention, as he deserved: he was a talented acoustic guitarist and he sang in such a fun and animated way, of course a crowd would form around him. Everyone let loose together, they would smoke and laugh and fuck right there on the sun blasted grass for everyone to see. It was a celebration of fire, of its undying energy, its forever warm coals reawakened again and again by someone else’s desire, until everyone who attended the summer parties were spent.

It was Swiss’ favorite time of the year. But this year, he wouldn’t be caught dead anywhere near the bonfires. The mere thought of going tasted like ashes on his tongue.

He still watched. Out of his typical curiosity, or out of some twisted masochistic need, he didn’t want to study his motivations really. He just had to check on the fires, see if everyone was having a good time. Despite not allowing himself the same, he still wanted his mates and the rest of their fire brethren to make the best of the season. So he set up shop on the slanted rooftop of one of the library towers, and observed below. Nobody saw him. Or if they did, well, nobody came to get him, so it didn’t matter if he was seen or not if he wasn’t beckoned. Not that he’d have climbed down his perch if he’d gotten an invite anyway.

His fire core was awake alright, but it wasn’t pulsing with lust. Swiss was still pissed off. He’d been stuck in that emotion since last month. He could not get unhooked from it. It was intrusive; as soon as he thought he was done? It rushed back in. So much frustration was stupid. The more he stewed on it, the worse it got, he knew. It was dumb to be hung up on the air heat blunder, on Rain’s Rose Moon’s rejection, on their March fumble, but his pride was scraped. His ego was already huge on a good day but once hit, it would swell, inflamed from the wound. He was cross. These past six months had been such a series of fiascoes and mistakes one after the other. He didn’t know what he’d done to displease his Lord but it seemed Lucifer was hellbent on testing his pride every damned month and Swiss did not fare well.

From his perch, he saw Dewdrop, whom he wanted nothing to do with currently. He saw Ifrit and Sunshine too. He watched the two guitarists fuck (each other, others, in piles). He watched Sunshine flirt and joke around, get blazed but not give in to her lust or pop a heat once at the parties. Probably because Cirrus said no, Swiss mused bitterly. He didn’t get it. While he understood the appeal of submission better than most, what he didn’t get was letting someone else impair on his freedom long term. A few hours, a day, a week-end even of giving up control, that was thrilling, exhilarating even. But it felt good because it ended, in the multi’s mind. He couldn’t grasp why Sunshine was so content respecting Cirrus’ limitations. The hybrid let someone else control her body, her pleasure, who she gave herself to. Maybe Swiss was just too much of a hedonistic creature to get it? It rubbed him the wrong way. He valued self agency over safety any day. It made his blood boil, to see a ghoulette with such potential limit herself and her experiences. Had he been in her place, he would have tried everything. Everything, right away, all at once. Overindulgence, that was his credo.

Well, when his pride wasn’t wounded and he didn’t camp on a rooftop, it was. He refused to indulge. Was it childish, was it petty? To make such a point of staying away like this? Sure. But he was petty and so be it. His sin was pride, nobody got to blemish his ego and walk away scoff free. He would dig in his heels. At least until he felt less bitter.

They missed him, below. Dew and Ifrit and Sunshine. They looked for him. Asked around. Inquired to Siblings and ghouls alike, had they seen Swiss anywhere near the fires, because they knew he was always the first one down here to light them up. He loved this season.

Dew thought nothing of the scuffle he had with Swiss last month. It didn’t even register as an issue. The gremlin perpetually antagonized everybody on abbey grounds, that little spat with the multi wasn’t anywhere near a fight in his book. He wasn’t angry or sour at the other man at all. He would have loved to have the beta around, and if they did have a bit of tension between them? All the better! That meant a good satisfying hate-fuck; one of the better ways to resolve conflicts in Dewdrop’s book.

Ifrit had been looking forward to some extra time with Swiss for weeks. Satan Below he did not have enough time with the guy. They vibed, he knew they did, but things always got in the way. The band, Swiss’ odd jobs, Ifrit’s own work, their other partners. If only they agreed on a time, a week-end or something when they would prioritize each other, the wicked fun they’d have. The fire parties were supposed to be that. In Ifrit’s mind at least. He hadn’t told Swiss directly he wanted to see him but he would have sworn the beta would be amongst them in their summer celebration by default.

Sunshine still felt a bit bad about the air heat moment the ghoulettes and Swiss had shared. She hadn’t spoken up when Cirrus had let Swiss down. The alpha ghoulette had done it as gently as she could, offering solutions and alternatives. She’d done her best, but the hybrid felt maybe she could’ve put her chip in Swiss’ corner? Maybe argue for his inclusion? But Cirrus had her reasons to teach and protect her this way, and she trusted her dominant fully. She trusted Cumulus blindly too, and the beta would follow Cirrus to the ends of the world, so that counted for something. In the end, despite a twinge of guilt in her gut, she was ok with what she and the ghoulettes had done. She had hoped the summer parties would be a good time to get together with Swiss and explain. Not necessarily apologize, but make sure they were on the same page. Reassure the guy that yes, she was into him, she was excited to play one day too, just not right away. But he was nowhere to be found. It weighed on her chest all festival long.

They all wanted him there.

Swiss didn't see it.

***

August came and went in a flash, with its big music festivals and preparation for Ghost’s autumn US tour. Soon September arrived and they were on the road again.

Swiss always remained professional. Nothing in his personal life could make it onto the stage. He took pride in his craft. He could not afford to deliver anything less than a perfect performance for his fans. He was relentless, flawless every night because that was all he knew how to be. Swiss was a one of a kind performer, just like he was a one of a kind ghoul. He was matchless and he would fucking show it.

On the bus, it was another story. He was more recluse than usual. The whole band noticed it, including Copia. For their dense pope to see it? It must’ve been awfully obvious. He spent most of the tour in his bunk, only poking his head into the common loft to grab something to eat. He didn’t play cards with the pack, didn’t make bets, skipped out on the strip poker games that always devolved into some fun. Swiss, willingly sitting out strip poker. Insanity. He didn’t play the acoustic guitar for karaoke night, didn’t care for horror movie night. On pizza night, they’d set his slices aside; in the morning they would be gone, but none of them actually saw Swiss eating them. He didn’t smoke with the others, he had his own stash he kept behind the curtain od his bunk where he'd smoke in bed.

There was only a curtain separating him from the rest of the world, but for the other ghouls and even for Papa, that curtain could’ve been made out of ten sheets of reinforced steel it seemed so impenetrable.

“He must be exhausted,” the ghouls whispered amongst themselves. Not too loud so Swiss wouldn’t hear.

“He’s always spread so thin when we’re at the abbey, what if on tour is the only time he gets to rest?”

“We should let him sleep. We know how much of a good job he wants to do on stage. He deserves a break.”

“Give him space. If he’s not doing good, he’ll tell us. Otherwise, he’ll come around.”

“Don’t worry about Swiss. He always pulls through, he’s special.”

Noise. Chatter. Echoes. Endless whispering about him. Swiss heard them. He just wanted silence. But it was much easier to take a few drags of a blunt and drift off, than to step out from behind his curtain to go tell them how wrong they were. With enough weed he’d forget he was even upset in the first place.

Rain’s final heat of the year was in September. They were on the road. Fortunately, it was the most tame of his heats. The Harvest Moon caused a blip of arousal in him for a handful of hours, maximum. While it was a heat, and he could have a good time with it if he leaned into it heavy, if he had to keep it minimal because Ghost was on tour? He could. It was less of a big deal than his other moons. He could even technically exhaust this heat by himself if he had to. He preferred not to, it wasn’t the most fun experience, but in a pinch it was possible.

On September 10th, Ghost fortunately spent the night at a hotel in New York. Each of the musicians got their own rooms; Papa got a suite.

Swiss didn’t sleep. He knew Rain would have a heat tonight. He counted the minutes, watched the clock, reaching out for the faint pull his water core felt. His instincts told him to go to Rain’s room. Try again. Make it work. But after how beat up by rejection he got all year? His heart wasn’t in it. He felt dread at the idea of walking over to offer his assistance again. It made bile rise in his throat. He didn’t want to assume he was wanted anymore. He’d been shown he wasn’t. He still felt irreplaceable, but he’d been replaced so consistently these past months, that flame was dimming by the day. Why risk making a move only to be told off again? To see Dewdrop in Rain’s bed again instead of him? Swiss wasn’t a jealous guy, but he was possessive. It wasn’t Dew’s inclusion that felt wrong, it was his own exclusion. If Rain had requested the both of them for every heat, Swiss would have been delighted. But now? Something in his heart had changed.

Swiss was tired of making the first move. Always being the one to offer himself, to propose plans, to provide. For once in his forsaken life he wanted Rain to make the move on him. If the water ghoul wanted his help for this heat? He could ask for it. A knock on his door, a phone call, heck even a text would suffice. Swiss would have accepted a damn emoji as a sign. He just needed Rain to come to him.

He waited all night. Rain never asked.

Resentment took hold in Swiss’ heart.

Across the hall, Rain hadn’t slept either. He’d thought of Swiss in the throws of heat, but he convinced himself the man needed sleep. He didn’t want to burden Swiss with his troubles, not when the multi worked so hard to be perfect on stage, fill in all the different instruments, play the saxophone, heck, Swiss did so much. He deserved a good night’s sleep alone and away from the rowdy bunch the pack could be. He held back.

In the morning, the band rejoined at the bus for a short four hour drive to their next venue, and neither Swiss nor Rain said anything about last night.

***

In early October, Ghost wrapped up their final tour of the year. They returned home for a well earned pause, five or six months at the abbey to get through winter and recharge their batteries. 2022 had been a huge year, they’d done tours back to back, so now it was time to unpack the gear, the instruments, the costumes, and dial into a simpler way of life for a spell. They flew home right in time for the earth ghouls to prepare for their fall heats too. That was Swiss’ focus.

Listen, this year had been so ridiculously awful in terms of heats, Swiss was more than ripe for a success. Mountain was a holy grail of sorts. The alpha had not let anyone from the pack assist with his ruts since his summoning. Earth cycles were brutal, it was said only earth ghouls could withstand them; the alpha didn’t want to harm any of his mates, it made some amount of sense. Mountain never came to the pack for help, he went full hermit mode within a week of his rut trigger instead and the band didn’t see him for weeks after that. So Swiss offered himself as a heat partner every year. He knew Mountain wouldn’t ask, but he wanted to make it obvious that he was available for him to use, should he choose to.

Swiss counted on the earth alpha this year. He needed a win. He needed to feel wanted, to feel useful, to feel essential like he knew he fucking was. Lucifer, he was the better suited ghoul to take an earth heat out of all of them. He could tap into his own earth core and feel the exact same urges Mountain would feel. The same violence, the same need for blood, the same animalistic instincts. He could never judge the drummer because he could tap into the same source and be transformed as well. He craved it. He wanted to be rendered feral, to feel something raw and real. He needed that direct of a connection with his magic and with a partner right now. He could’ve tapped into his earth heat on his own, but just like with the air heat previously, he didn’t want to spend it with a random earth ghoul. It had to be Mountain or there was no point. Mountain was his last chance.

He found the drummer in one of his greenhouses, a remote one. He’d checked the music room and a couple of other greenhouses before, so when he did finally spot him, Swiss was already out of patience. Unfortunately for him, everything with Mountain was a test of patience. He knew the alpha saw him enter. But he didn’t acknowledge him at all, didn’t stop working. The earth ghoul was teaching a handful of Siblings how to correctly transfer some of their outdoor plants inside so they wouldn’t die over winter. By not addressing the multi, Mountain made him sit and wait. If what Swiss had to tell him was important enough, he could show it by waiting.

The earth ghoul delicately handled plants, passed them to his assistants, directing their next move with a steady, measured voice. Swiss looked outside, kicked his feet, fiddled with pieces of straw, did everything he could to show he felt inconvenienced by having to wait, but he stayed. One by one, the Siblings left when their shift was over. The sun followed its arc across the sky until the grey began to fall and eventually, the last person left. Mountain and Swiss were alone in the greenhouse. Only then did the earth giant address him.

“Hello Swiss,” he said with his calm, deep rumble of a voice. “What can I do for you?”

The multi convincingly made his voice sound like he wasn’t irritated.

“I came to ask if you needed my help for your rut.”

“As always,” Mountain bluntly stated.

Swiss shrugged, gave him the point: his mate wasn’t wrong. He would always try. He cared. And he wanted to win, said his brain.

“Of course. You know I’ll offer every year. I can tap into my earth heat for you whenever. Just say the word.”

“No. But thank you for taking the time to stop by.”

As expected, Mountain refused him initially. That wasn’t gonna stop the multi from peddling his wares though. Or in this case, his body. He knew Mountain said no out of fear, not because he sincerely wanted to be alone. It was a defense mechanism, because the earth ghoul was scared of the beast within up until the last second when it took control. Swiss believed one day the alpha would be ready to let someone in.

A strange, twisted place in his chest where his pride sat said he really needed it to be this year.

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Swiss insisted on a reassuring tone. He believed that firmly. Mountain had a solution to end his lonely ruts right here, if only he would seize it, for hell’s sake.

“I would rather you not see me in such-”

Swiss recited the line along with his mate, word for word: “-in such a feral state because earth cycles are dangerous and not what you think.” Somewhere along the speech, Mountain had stopped talking.

Swiss felt himself tense up. Lucifer be damned. The same litany, the same words every year, why did he even bother thinking this year could be different?

“Why won’t you just take my help? You know I’ll understand!”

“Why is it you take my refusal so personally, sapling?”

Swiss grunted.

“Alright. I tried.” He pushed himself off of the dirt barrel he’d adopted as a seat, brushed the dry soil clinging to the back of his legs before he made his way to the glass door.

That was usually where their yearly heat conversation ended so when the earth ghoul spoke again, he was caught of guard.

“Why do you come here and offer yourself to me every year?”

Swiss spun around to look Mountain up and down. How the tall man had his arms crossed over his beige gardener’s apron; how the shade of blotched dirt clung to his cheek just below his left eye; how there was a leaf stuck in his hair behind one of his horns he probably didn’t notice.

“’Cause I wanna help you?”

“Is that so? Or is it that you want to help yourself?”

Swiss frowned. “What are you tryin’ to say.”

“I’m genuinely asking. Are you presenting yourself as prey to me selflessly, for my benefit and well being? Or do you just desire to be the one that breaks me, the special one I finally choose?”

Swiss staggered. He felt rooted in place. Exposed. Flayed. Ice coursed along his body in a long ripple that left him shivering, laid bare before the alpha in one swift sentence. How did Mountain read him so? Better yet, how dare he say the words out loud? What was Swiss supposed to respond with?

He wasn’t supposed to answer at all, turned out, because Mountain soon broke tension, turning back to his rows of planters full of nutrient-dense soil he packed in with wide flat fingertips.

“Think on that, and come back to me with an answer once my core reawakens next year. You’ll have until spring to ponder, don’t rush it.”

“The answer you wanna hear’s pretty obvious,” Swiss snarked, feeling some modicum of sensation return to his body.

“Is it?” Mountain held a planter to eye level, studied if the roots of the new transplant were well covered, then set the pot down, reaching for another. “You would be wrong. There is no right or wrong answer here, sapling. Whatever your sincere truth is, that’s the answer I want to hear. I’ll know.” He cast a serious glance to the multi ghoul before him, deep green eyes retaining their typical sympathetic softness. “If you come to me with the truth and some self reflection in spring, I will accept your proposal next fall. You have my word.”

Swiss squinted, unsure. Hope violently tugged at his heart at the promise. Hope. This foolish, childish emotion he constantly got betrayed by. So many times this year he’d hoped for someone to let him in when he asked; so many times he got rejected. He should’ve been more guarded. Yet his heart pounded in his chest at the option. Maybe it would be true, Mountain would pick him next year if he succeeded at the task. If he did good enough, him and the earth ghoul could experience something special together, something real. And Swiss could be the first to share his rut. He shoved his hands in his pocket to hide the slight shake in his fingers from the jitters, the butterflies this promise gave him.

“Sounds like bait.” He still had to sound defensive. He had to hide how hope ensnared his insides and squeezed them. But he’d already agreed in his head.

“Does the hunter not place bait to attract the prey he wants to hunt? Reflect, Swiss. Once you can be honest with yourself, tapping into an earth heat might leave you in one piece.”

Swiss left the greenhouse conflicted. Wary. Scared. Hopeful. Expectations already forming in his mind.

Ten days or so later, at the end of October, Mountain disappeared to his cabin. Swiss felt his earth core awaken, roaring and clawing within to be let free. He denied it. Within a few days of the earth ghoul’s hermitage, the rest of the pack noticed his absence. They spoke about it during one of their group dinners at the mess hall. Dewdrop jokingly hinted that he was gonna try to join Mountain’s rut this time. It only made Swiss laugh. There was no way the alpha would say yes to Dewdrop after he’d just rejected him, and what he’d promised him. Swiss was the only logical partner for Mountain to claim, especially after he’d just given him a question to reflect on. Dew wouldn’t last an hour in the trenches with a feral earth demon. The fire omega would run back to the dorms before nightfall with his tail between his legs, the multi would bet money on it. Mountain would chase his pretty little ass right out of his forest, real quick. Swiss had nothing to worry about.

***

Hours waiting for Dew’s return turned into days, turned into weeks; October turned into November and Swiss was livid. Dew never came back. He knew what that meant. He knew what the omega and Mountain were doing and it made him sick to his stomach. Why did Mountain accept Dew’s proposal and not his? How did Swiss fail so badly that Dewdrop of all people was the one chosen to share Mountain’s rut?!

The multi wasn’t the first one to convince Mountain in the end, huh. Not so special after all, his brain provided. Swiss regretted having ever believed the alpha and his calm voice, his sweet philosophizing that hinted at the chance they could spend autumn together. Swiss had been baited. If it was that easy to make Mountain cave in that Dewdrop could do it? Then the earth giant never intended to give Swiss a chance at all.

It was strange, how his brain functioned. Even if rationally Swiss knew Dew and Mountain were together in this moment, he knew it in his heart, he knew it in his body because he could feel both of their cores pulling at him; a small place inside of him refused to believe it until he saw it. His thoughts twisted themselves into all sorts of lunacies, baseless silly scenarios, what ifs, anything to not grapple with the fact that Mountain was fucking Dewdrop within an inch of his life right now and not him. He wondered, day after day while he cast glances at the edge of the woods, if Dew hadn’t just gotten lost in the forest. He toyed with the idea of the omega stupidly wandering the wilderness while he was within walking distance of the cathedral all along. It wouldn’t be the first time the fire ghoul got lost somewhere dumb because he didn’t listen to instructions, or refused to follow marked paths because anarchy or some other excuse. It could have happen.

Of course it didn’t happen. The truth was unveiled when in mid-November, under the cover of the first snow, Mountain and Dewdrop returned to the dorms. The earth cycle was over: winter had come. The two of them were battered. Covered in bruises that spanned all shades of the rainbow, puncture wounds from fangs, bite marks, scratches and gashes galore, torn clothes, and most of all they looked blissed out of their fucking minds. The looks they shared, the smiles, the love that hung suspended between them, bright and beautiful, bloody and pure; some twisted dark place in Swiss’ heart hated it. He should’ve been happy. This was great! Dewdrop had conquered the earth rut! Mountain had finally let one of them in! But it wasn’t Swiss. It should have been Swiss. He’d been working on this for years! He tried his best to make Mountain comfortable every year, let him know he was there, he was happy to help, he was the only one with the right element for this for Lucifer’s sake, so why?!

The pack fawned over the returned pair: Aether and Cumulus because they were amazed at all the wounds they bore and wanted to rush them to the infirmary; Cirrus because she wanted to hear every last hot and horny detail of their adventure; Rain and Sunshine because they missed their mates and were simply eager to get them back.

Swiss was too bitter to even look at them.

He slipped away.

Nobody would notice he was gone. They doted over Mountain and Dew so much they wouldn’t even think to check on him. He got the hint. Lucifer, did he get the hint. He felt wrath bubbling within, the sin most strongly connected to his fire core actively making his blood boil. Lava coursed through his veins and he saw red. He was seething, hissing through clenched teeth as stiff legs carried him Satan knew where. He didn’t care where, as long as he could unleash.

Swiss wasn’t easy to properly anger. He was more a man of light frustrations he swallowed down continuously than anger outbursts. But dear Dark Lord did he accumulate and once he exploded? What he weaved was a storm of extreme power and destruction. Self-destruction, destruction of others, of his surroundings, anything could’ve seemed a viable target for his brain which reeled at a thousand miles an hour, desperately looking for a target to launch its fury at.

Rain, whose anxiety constantly got in their fucking way, ruined their chances to have something good, something real together;

Aether, who thought himself a damn savior, healing with one hand but sewing pain in his wake carelessly;

Cirrus, who thought she was so much better than everyone else with her godforsaken superiority complex;

Cumulus, whose pure heart and kindness also made her the most spineless ghoul who never spoke up about anything;

Sunshine, who let her wild potential rot by being the most asinine goody-two—shoes Swiss had ever met;

Dewdrop, who stole everything from him. Every single time Swiss thought he had something, someone, Dewdrop was there to rip it from his hands and laugh while he did it. Rain, the fire ghouls, Mountain, this little piece of shit took everything from him-

Mountain. Swiss’ brain felt static as the name flashed through the hurricane of vitriol inside and somehow his body knew where to go. Mountain whose wound was still open and bleeding. Mountain whose betrayal was still fresh in his mind. The broken promise. The rejections. Four years of parading before him so he could be misled like his feelings didn’t matter. Four fucking years bending over backwards for the guy for him to choose Dewdrop instead of him-

He went for Mountain’s greenhouse.

Not his main one. Not his secret one (even while enraged Swiss had the presence of mind to not destroy the weed). The more remote one where they’d spoken in October. That was the target, and the earth ghoul through it.

He entered the greenhouse in a blind fury. It was full of Siblings, three to four of them to do the same amount of work a single earth ghoul did, concentrated on their task to keep the plants alive and well until the demons returned. If the harsh glass on glass banging of the door being slammed open didn’t catch all of their attention, Swiss’ booming command sure did:

“Get out of my way!”

The humans looked up, put down their gardening tools or planter pots: they could tell something was wrong with their cherished handyman but what, and what did he mean? Some of them didn't move, some of them stepped out of the way. A young nun, the closest to the ghoul, gently smiled and reached for him.

“Swiss? Are you o-”

“GET OUT OF MY FUCKING WAY!”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence before Swiss roared over her with an unnatural force to his voice, volume multiplied tenfold and sound waves projected violently against the walls of the glass structure by his quintessence. The Siblings yelled in fear, dropped whatever they were holding in panic, shuffled for the door. Swiss walked forward between the middle rows of plants, steps crackling with fire and sparks, leaving boot-shaped burning cinders behind him as if he branded the ground with his presence. He didn’t want to harm the Siblings, they’d not done anything to him (yet, his brain provided). But if they didn’t get out quick enough, it wouldn’t be his problem. He would raze this place to the ground; if an unlucky mortal happened to be caught in his wrath? He didn’t give a fuck.

He heard their screams, their scramble and it made him smile. An unnaturally wide smile, rows of sharp fangs in a too large mouth under blacked-out eyes with a multicolor glow. Twisted gold-tipped horns crowned his head proudly, his gold-dusted tail with its dark brown tufts of coarse hair swished recklessly behind him, knocking pottery and terracotta pots to the ground in bursts of shattered pieces. He ripped his glamor apart as he freely leaked his elements, all of them, here and now, all at once, with Satan as his witness.

He set fire to anything that caught: compost piles, dried leaves, cedar wood planks, gunny sacks, bags and crates of harvested crops. He flung flames from his right hand wildly, each clawed fingertip actively on fire. His fingers turned charred and black with soot but he felt none of the burn.

He froze anything that was too humid to be set ablaze. With his left hand he drew frost from the ground, channeled the freshly fallen snow, the chill in the air. He sicced frost to eat at the roots of the plants, ice crystals clawing their way into their stems, deep in their cells, covering their leaves and petals, killing them in a minute like winter would have in weeks. The window panes closest to him began to frost over; the ground became white and freeze-dried.

He opened his mouth and sucked in air: everything around him that held an ounce of life within began to wither before his very eyes. Fruits rotted and shriveled, trees thinned and became brittle, branches fell off as if the plants has been diseased for years. Insects seized mid-flight and fell to the floor, legs and wings twitching as they were emptied of their life force by Swiss’ quintessence, a black hole inside of him that drained and nullified the very energy that kept them alive.

He kicked the ground with his heel then sprang to the other side of the greenhouse, for the space he had put his boot into soon collapsed and caved in like a sink hole. The earth opened in a gaping maw swallowing one side of the greenhouse, the metal beams of it protesting and screeching at the sudden forced torsion. The ground was marred by a jagged fissure; the watering system broke, torn by the fall, hoses spewing water aimlessly out of the hole.

Once there was enough destruction surrounding him, he weaved a wind, willed the air inside the greenhouse to pick debris up, soil, dust, broken pots, pieces of wood, gardening tools, anything it could lift as it gathered speed. He let his wind swell into a vortex raging voraciously around him. He was the eye of the storm. He made it well up, sent flame and ice and death and earth throughout it until he heard the debris batter the glass windows, and then he pushed still, until the satisfying sound of shattering glass reached his ear through the maelstrom. One window cracked starting from its sub-zero frozen edges, then another, then another. Swiss screamed into the wind and every single window shattered in a staggered cacophony, the sound of broken glass the deafening chorus of his pain.

He spent his elements down to the last shred of power within his limited human form, tearing out the stilts that held the metal carcass of the greenhouse still somewhat attached to the ground, flinging it off in the field behind, trampling what was left of the crops there.

Once he had no strength anymore; once his elemental reserves were depleted and he had no voice left, Swiss stood amidst his destruction. He was calm. Numb. Empty. Hollow. He felt no satisfaction. No relief. He was unburdened but no positive emotion claimed the void left inside like he’d hoped. He felt nothing, besides the subtle creeping of guilt behind the numbness.

Then he vanished.

The rest of the pack noticed Swiss was not with them soon after Mountain and Dew’s return, but they figured he must’ve been pulled away by a Clergy member for yet another odd job. They wanted him here but they weren’t worried, they could be patient. Swiss didn’t show up to their meal that evening, but that happened when he was overworked. Swiss didn’t return to his dorm all night, the others checked his room, but that was normal too. The multi spent more nights in someone else’s bed than his own, he was a player after all. Except he missed all meals the next day too, and still didn’t return to his room the following night. They called him, they left him text messages, but he never replied. And that was odd. Swiss always replied to texts. He jumped at the chance to help any of them, even in the middle of the night he’d text back, he never ignored them.

That was when worry began to set amongst the pack. By day three, they were full on searching for him. They prowled the halls of the abbey, stopping every Sibling or official they came across and asking them had they seen their multi ghoul.

The group was questioning a nun outside of the library when Cumulus noticed a brother who came into the corridor, saw them, made a horrified face, and immediately turned to leave, clearly with the hope of getting away subtly. But Cumulus was worried for one of her mates and when she went in defense mode? She was brutally confident and more direct than ever.

“HEY!” She shouted at the Sibling who sped up his steps. “STOP!” She broke from the group in a full run to catch the guy. “Come back here you little shit-” She dug a handful of claws through the hood of his robes and pulled him backwards as he tried to round a corner to escape.

She forced him to turn and walk backwards so he’d be caught between her and the rest of the ghouls.

“Don’t hurt me! I didn’t do anything!” the brother squeaked while Cumulus let go of his clothes and jabbed a clawed pointer finger in his sternum instead.

“Why did you run from us then?”

“N-no reason,” the Sibling stuttered, “yall are j-just scary-”

“Nuh-Uh. No way. That’s a lie. You made a face. You know something about Swiss.”

The brother tried to coward away from the cloud ghoulette but he stumbled into the other air ghoulette of the pack, the much more severe looking one. He gasped and turned back to Cumulus.

“Where is he?” she asked; the Sibling looked away. “Where is Swiss, what do you know?” The brother still kept his mouth shut. Cumulus shrilled. “Why won’t you talk?!”

“Cause y-you won’t like it and I don’t w-want any trouble.”

“Cirrus!”

Communicating without words with her bonded mate, Cirrus slid close to the man and grabbed one of his arms, twisting it behind his back in a strained angle while she held his chest flush against her with her other hand. The brother winced when she pulled just a little too much on the weirdly bent arm at a flick of Cumulus’ gaze.

The white silvery glow of magic began to show in the cloud ghoulette’s eyes.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen.” Cumulus' voice was dead calm, like the way the wind completely died out before a storm arrived. “You’re gonna tell us everything you know about Swiss right now or we’ll break your arm.” On cue, Cirrus tightened her grip. “Aether will fix you right away of course so you won’t be permanently injured but I swear to Satan it’s gonna hurt like hell when we break it, and it’s gonna hurt even worse when Aether puts it back in place without using his quintessence to numb your pain. You think we won’t like what you have to say? Well you sure won’t like what we’ll do to you if you don’t talk so speak, now.”

The Sibling spilled everything. How he was working at the greenhouse when Swiss barged in. How he yelled at them to leave. How he saw him begin to unleash his powers so he ran away.

“And you didn’t think to report this?! To us, to Papa?” Cumulus was furious and incredulous.

“It’s ghoul business, w-what was I supposed to do?! We’re humans we, we don’t mess with ghoul busi- aah!” Cirrus pulled harshly at his arm before she let him go, pushing him away from her.

“Useless.”

“No actually,” Aether stepped up to the action, “it’s not that bad of a thing he didn’t speak. If Swiss did anything, we don’t want the word out. Come here,” he held his hand out for the shaken brother who stalled before finally taking it. “You’re gonna tell me the names of everyone who worked with you at the greenhouse three days ago, and then you’ll forget it ever happened, alright?” He took the clueless mortal off to the side.

A few minutes passed before the quintessence ghoul released their human companion, who looked quite dazed but miles more relaxed than before. Aether dusted his hands and rejoined the group.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Mountain rumbled slowly despite the pit of urgency in his stomach. “But I think I know which greenhouse Swiss went to.”

“Then let’s go find him.”

They made their way across the abbey grounds in a long walk towards the north-eastern fields. The ones with the crops that were to be harvested the latest in the fall.

They didn’t know what they expected to find there, but whatever it was, it was not the spectacle that welcomed them when the area came into view.

Shards of glass and pottery debris crunched underfoot for a large radius around what once was the greenhouse. They could tell braziers had been lit in multiple spots from the charred sweeps of grass around it. There were concentrated zones of frostbitten earth dotted everywhere. Fruits and plants and bags full of harvested goods that hadn’t been taken to the cafeteria in time laid there rotting, bubbling in black soup-like consistencies dusted with mold, but there was not a single insect around, not a fly, nothing alive. Then of course there was the unavoidable sinkhole that ate half of where the greenhouse one stood, a connected fissure running through the neighboring field like a scar; and the unmistakable sight of the metal carcass of the greenhouse flung halfway across it.

“Shit.” Sunshine was stunned.

“He had a complete elemental meltdown,” Aether whispered in disbelief. His eyes sadly scanned the space for life force, but all the feedback he got was buzzing magic static and nothing behind. “He siphoned everything. This field’s gonna be barren for years.”

Mountain closed his eyes and breathed out slowly through his nose.

“I pushed him too far.”

Swiss had come here, to the very greenhouse where they had their last discussion, for a reason. This was his fault. He clenched his fists.

“What do you mean?” Sunshine asked.

“He came to me to offer himself as rut partner, like he does every year. I refused him, like I do every year, but not only that. I challenged him this time. I considered him. I pushed him. I must have struck a nerve.”

Dewdrop stepped to Mountain’s side. He didn’t reach for him physically but he wanted his presence to be felt nearby, with their new bond and all.

“It’s not your fault. If he wanted someone to be pissed off at, it should have been me. I can take it.”

“You cannot take anything right now little one. I just wrecked you for a couple of weeks. Technically you are still on bed rest.”

“I don’t care!” Dew spat, walking in front of the earth ghoul and spreading his arms. “I don’t give a fuck if I’m injured, if Swiss wants to fight or take it out on someone, he fights me! I’ll take it for him!” His eyes were moist, but he quickly turned away to avoid the sunlight making it too obvious. He crossed his arms and fumed.

Mountain lowered his head.

“We need to find him. Who knows what state he’ll be in after exerting this much power,” Aether worried.

“Are you sure? All of us coming for him, after this?” Cirrus argued carefully. “After he’s made his anger as clear as he could, blowing off like that? I don’t want to make him snap again. Shouldn’t we give him space, give him a break?”

Give Swiss space.

Let Swiss rest.

Give Swiss a break.

Safeguard Swiss.

Rain’s heart missed a beat.

“Oh Satan,” he exhaled shakily. He looked down at his own hands, then up to the rest of the pack. “What if we gave him too much space.” The others turned towards him as it dawned on them all at once. “That’s where we went wrong. We messed up, we’ve been trying to give him a break all year, guys,” his voice cracked, “what if Swiss never wanted space? What if we all made him feel like-” He raised a hand to his mouth, unable to say it. Unloved. Unwanted.

They all stood, stunned by the knowledge. Mortified. Wide eyed at the realization. Each of them reckoning suddenly with their own pang of guilt for what they’d done. Because they’d all done something. They all had rejected Swiss, or ignored him, or hadn’t spoken up when needed, or had been confronting.

“Lucifer… What have we done.”

They agreed on a plan. Mountain would gather a handful of earth ghouls urgently, shift, then fix the greenhouse. Earth ghouls that would work hard and not talk. Aether would round up the Siblings who saw Swiss’ meltdown and make sure none of them reported it to Sister Imperator or the high officials, so Swiss would not have to receive punishment for destruction of Church property. The rest of the pack would search for him.

And once they found him, they would not give him space ever again.

***

They did not find him. Nobody saw Swiss in December. He was on abbey grounds, he still worked because work was all he had left, but he pointedly avoided everyone in the pack. He never went back to his dorm. Nobody knew where he slept, if he slept at all. If one of the ghouls tried to track down which odd job he was assigned, Swiss was always gone before they arrived. Here but unreachable. A mirage. They almost hallucinated him sometimes, spotted someone’s hair that looked like his at mass, or the shape of his back down a hallway, or the echo of a laugh that sounded like his behind a closed door. They had to find him. To fix things. To talk. To apologize. To make it all ok, to make him understand that none of them ever wished for things to happen this way, they were just trying to do the right thing! All the rejections were nothing but a series of callous mistakes they would never do again, please!

But Swiss was excellent at not being found. He had all the elements of the living world at his disposal, all the magic. He was strong enough to disappear and erase his tracks forever if he wanted to. And he did just that, determined to stay out of everyone’s way since all of his mates clearly wished him gone.

Until New Years.

Until he heard the fireworks from the abbey’s New Years countdown and got hit full force by a flashback of last year. Of his and Dew’s “fireworks”. Of the laughs they had, of getting caught by Sister Imperator. At once, Swiss remembered how good he’d had it, being amongst his pack, his mates, surrounded by love, affection and acceptance, and it hit him like a freight train. The excitement he’d felt for the year to come, for how he’d get to help everybody again, how he’d be needed, how he’d be of service. The memories flooded him. How happy he was. How content. How wanted he felt. Before everything went wrong. Before everyone turned their backs on him. Before he was alone. Left in the dust. Incomplete. Of no use. Rejected. He wanted to go back. He had to go back, to before, to when things were right, he had to-

He broke.

***

New Years 2023.

Cathedral. Pew, middle row. Alone.

One more complete cycle of the memories from the previous year finished in Swiss’ mind like an old sepia film, the reel jumping and clicking behind his eyes. He would play it again, the movie of the year, because he was completely stuck in it, body immobile and stone-like while his thoughts scratched out the insides of his skull frantically. He was just about to loop back around, to Rain’s main moon, to the first time things went sideways, to the first rejection, so he could figure out what he’d done so wrong to deserve to be pushed aside.

But someone slid in the pew and sat next to him.

He didn’t react. Didn’t move. Didn’t twitch away. His eyes didn’t even flicker towards the new presence, yet he smelled its scent. His sense of smell was still somehow connected to his brain. Torpid, lethargic, yes, but scents registered slowly, one at a time. Myrrh. Copal. Styrax. Frankincense. Pasty, dusty scents, with the mouth feel of gold under it. And peppermint.

“Papa?” he croaked.

Copia adjusted his robes and arranged himself on the lustered wooden seat less subtly now that he had been noticed.

“Ah, there you are! I was beginning to wonder if you were a new statue the Church ordered.” It was a joke, and Copia let out a small puff of air to signal it, the beginning note of a laugh, but when Swiss remained catatonic he shrugged.

Swiss thought to ask why was Copia here but his body was heavy like lead. He could not make his lips move, his mouth was too heavy to form words. So he remained motionless and silent.

Copia let the silence stretch for a moment until it became awkward and it made him uncomfortable.

“Um,” he tried again, “it’s New Years! Shouldn’t you be out there celebrating with us, my ghoul?” He forced a joyful tone.

Swiss didn’t react.

Copia began to fiddle with his black and gold skull-decorated stole, folding it between his fingers.

“Me and the rest of the band, your pack,” Copia accented the word, making sure to use the right terminology for ghoul culture, “were worried.”

Swiss didn’t stir, but he breathed out: “No you weren’t.”

Copia frowned, confused. “We were. We, hmm,” he grumbled, searching for different words, “noticed your absence. You were missed.”

“I didn’t miss work,” Swiss murmured.

“I did not mean it that way, I meant personally...”

Copia groaned. Lord Satan, he was not good with feelings. But he wanted to find a way to cheer his multi ghoul up. His band ghouls had been awfully depressed for a month, worrying themselves sick over their absent mate. It was the start of a new year, he could not let his demons wither themselves away like this. Emotions were not his strong suit but he had to put an end to this.

“The ghouls are all sad without you. They want you around.”

That got a twitch out of Swiss.

“Hah,” he scoffed, “they didn’t all year.”

“They did but you fools don’t talk-” Copia pinched the bridge of his nose, sucking air through his teeth. Sometimes it was baffling how human the demons he summoned became after he trapped them inside human bodies. They took on the mistakes humans did too, the miscommunications, the assumptions, the expectations, like these tendencies were carved in the flesh itself, in the DNA of mortals. It made his head spin, the comedy of errors. Yet when he reflected on Ghost’s past year, even himself hadn’t lifted a finger to ask how Swiss was doing, hadn't he. He too had assumed the multi would be fine.

The pope let out a long, thin breath.

“They sent me to find you.”

“So they couldn’t even bother to find me themselves,” Swiss drawled, judgmental; Copia clicked his tongue.

“Maybe that’s because you avoided them for a month straight, have you considered-”

“They pushed me away for fucking months before, have you considered that?! They deserve it!” Swiss’ hand twitched on his knee and he finally looked up at his Papa, eyes more focused, seeing him, not through him.

There we are, Copia told himself. He just had to poke at the right place to make Swiss’ mind-body connection switch on again. He could do that. He’d find the words. This was a decent start. Now Swiss would be more present in his body. The pope smiled a tad; the ghoul turned his head away with a “tch”.

“Would you look at me please?”

The ghoul tensed up. Resisted. But his tail was ever so slightly animated again. Small steps.

“Swiss,” Copia insisted. His voice was kind. Welcoming. Guiding. Like the guiding light he was. For his fans, for his believers, for the Siblings, and for the ghouls too.

Swiss abdicated.

Copia nodded, acknowledging his obedience.

“You have value. You are wanted.” It seemed like the right thing to say. Because the rest of the Ghost ghouls had come to their Papa distressed, some of them crying, explaining how they thought they fucked up and made Swiss feel unwanted. They asked for his help to get Swiss back, so this new year wouldn’t begin on such a bad foot. And it seemed to be going well, the speech, Swiss’ eyes were engaged, there was a bit of life in them, until Copia stepped on a land mine. “You are special-”

In a flash, Swiss’ hand was at his throat, pulling at his jeweled collar.

“Don’t you dare say I’m special!” His shout resonated in the emptiness of the church. He growled threateningly, knuckles against his Papa’s windpipe, but the man in front of him only smiled softly again.

That’s the Swiss I know, Copia thought. Get your fire back, my boy. Come back to us.

“You are,” Papa spoke with a slight tightness to his breath. “You’re unique, you’re special, you’re the king piece on my chess board, ghoul.” He raised a gloved hand to Swiss’ balled up fist, laid it over it. “You are essential, to me, to this Church, to our Lord. You have a mission to accomplish like the rest of us, and my ghoul, let me tell you,” his voice softened, drawing more from Copia than Papa again, “you have a depressed pile of mates that love you waiting to apologize to you. Go back to them.”

Swiss deflated.

He let go of the vestments.

“Ah, thank you.” Copia patted his robes back in place.

Swiss painfully unfolded his leg, the one he’d leaned against for Lucifer knew how many hours. His muscles protested, screaming at him and he instinctually wondered if he could ask Mountain for one of his legendary massages later to help the soreness, because that would be very nice- His brain caught up to the thought, stopped it in its tracks like an electric shock. Of course he couldn’t ask Mountain. Not after everything that happened. But Dark Lord, he wanted nothing more than to go back to them- But he couldn’t, they didn’t want him! He hissed. His thoughts were jumbled. The contradiction felt like a cold shower, a jolt of static he hated and couldn’t bat away. His head hurt.

“I wasted a whole year didn’t I…” he whispered, somewhere halfway between stupor and defeat.

“I would not say it in such dramatic terms, we still had great tours and we sold a lot of merch,” Copia mused, but then he cast a side glance at the multi ghoul and redirected, waving his arms in the air before him to dismiss the thought. “Yes, yes you kind of did.”

Swiss responded with a dry, pained sound.

“But!” The Pope clapped his hands together, going for enthusiasm, “see it this way, now you have learned! You and your mates all have learned something. You still have this new year and many more after that to put this lesson to use.” He offered him a wide encouraging smile but Swiss’ expression fell. The ghoul’s eyes widened, his brows furrowed, the corner of his mouth turned and when Copia noticed how Swiss’ multicolored eyes filled up with tears, he understood how wrong his statement had been.

“Do I?”

Copia grimaced.

“Do I, have years? Do we?” Swiss pressed on, words wet with held back tears. “You’re lying! We don’t even know if you have a year left, Papa! You’re gonna-” Die soon, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t speak the words out loud, for fear that it would make them real.

Copia didn’t know what to answer. Dark Lord had he put his foot in his mouth with this one, and awoken his own anxieties too. The ghoul wasn’t wrong. They didn’t know how long Copia had left, only that his days were numbered. Very precisely numbered, by people who would not tell him how long until he was gone. Was killed, his mind supplied. Was assassinated. Was murdered. The pope shook his head, trying to make the worries fade back into the fog of his mind. If he died, no, when he died, there was a chance his ghouls would die with him. Or fade back to hell. Either way. They were tethered to him, where he went, they were meant to follow, and that did include follow him in death. In a way, his own countdown was Swiss and the others’ countdown too.

He swallowed thickly.

“My apologies. I misspoke,” he began. Swiss reached for him again, but this time there was no violence in the gesture. The ghoul folded into him instead, forehead against his chest, handfuls of robes clasped in his hands desperately. Copia felt Swiss holding back sobs, refusing to make a sound, his body heaving with the effort. His own eyes welled up with tears too.

“I meant,” his voice was so much thinner than before, “you still have time with the ones you love. However long that is.”

That wracked the first audible sob from Swiss.

“And they love you,” he continued. “Dearly, still. So please, go back to them and make the best of it now, because time wasted is time we will never get back, and we might be gone tomorrow.”

By the time Copia was done talking, words dragged out like if they bore the weight of the world, Swiss wasn’t holding back his sobs anymore.

He pulled his Papa to him desperately, pressed his face to his chest to soak the satin of his robes with tears. Violent sobs, hiccup-y, stuck, painful sobs he’d held back for almost a year because Swiss wasn’t a crier, now poured out unbidden and uncontrollable. He cried for all of this wasted time. For the hurt he’d stockpiled inside and left to fester for months. For the repeated rejections and how they shredded his sense of self worth. For how hard he’d have to work to rebuild, to feel good again when he was called unique instead of the bitterness these words generated now. For how all of this could have been avoided. For how much he wanted to run to his pack, feel their warmth again, and hear them say they loved him still. And he cried for all of this careful balance he would reconstruct, only for it to be toppled again any day now, when their Papa inevitably got ripped away from them. He cried because he was exhausted, he didn’t want to rebuild again. He didn’t want to be hurt again but he would and he hated it, he hated these human emotions; hope, pain, enough!

Copia held him tightly. Rubbed his arms, his back, trying to soothe him and soothe himself at the same time. He was terrified too. He didn’t want to leave. Not earth, not his ghouls, not his family, the family he’d fought so hard to create around himself. His heart fluttered in his chest like a distraught bird in a cage and he let silent tears fall from his bi-colored eyes.

He held Swiss for as long as he needed him to, the ghoul’s mournful wails echoing against the cathedral’s immense ceilings. He let him get it out, because crying and screaming and fighting for something like this? It was always better than Swiss turning himself into a hollow shell via isolation and resentment. Pain when felt, when truly lived, was beautiful because it was real. A jewel of tears and blood pressed from a pile of dull, lifeless ashes. One day Swiss would understand.

They’d avoided the worst. They’d gotten Swiss back. That was all that mattered for now.

Eventually Swiss’ cries softened. His breath returned to a somewhat normal rhythm, with the occasional hitch here and there. He dried his face on Copia’s vestments. The pope patted him on the head, let him calm down until the multi separated, sat straight, with no more tears left.

“Welcome back.” Copia meant it.

Swiss sniffled.

The pope got up, slid out of the pew. He turned, offered his gloved hand to Swiss expectantly.

The multi stared at it, didn’t move.

“May I guide you back to your pack? They’re in the common room of the dorms, waiting for you.”

Swiss hesitated.

He took his hand.