Chapter Text
Perpetua was new to all of this touring stuff. It was a scary and strange circumstance that he found himself in; a limbo between two worlds that he barely felt like he was a part of. On the one hand, there was the Ministry, a place that he had only known in his later years and briefly at that. And on the other, the outside world which he was somewhat familiar with in passing but still seemed alien somehow.
He had just gotten settled with his band, his Ghouls, finally out on tour for the first time as a group and there had only been a handful of rituals before Perpetua felt the earth shift under his feet again. Swiss had been called back suddenly; possibly by his brother—whom he still hadn't gotten a chance to meet. This whole carnival of a tour seemed to be his trial by fire; a test to see if he was even worthy of carrying the banner of their Dark Lord to the masses.
And already it seemed like he was being set up just to fail. Why had one of the core members of his band been recalled like some kind of hazard only to be replaced with and even larger, scarier Ghoul? The new guy seemed to know his stuff but even after a couple of rituals, Perpetua felt like he didn't know this new Ghoul at all. He had barely gotten to know Swiss before he was replaced and the other band members kept their distance, feeling out this strange interloper.
The tour was supposed to ingrain camaraderie among all of them, a familial closeness while they toured and traveled day in and day out all over the country—all over the world. But he left the stage every night with a mix of elation and dread, feeling like he was still unworthy of this band, this title. The weight of responsibility and duty hung over his head like a sharpened sword, ready to pronounce him illegitimate of holding this office, this position; of even being a member of the clergy.
So just like he had every night before, Perpetua filed off stage feeling buoyed but still defeated, wondering how long he'd have to feel like this before it felt right, or he just gave up altogether and admitted his failure to himself and his brother. The Ghouls shuffled into their street clothes and Perpetua was wiping his face paint off as most of them said their farewells and headed back to the bus early, all except one.
Storm—the new Air Ghoul—hung back, feigning something forgotten or misplaced as he came and sat close to the singer in one of the vanity chairs, the mirror's lights now dark and muted.
The silence stretched between them like a shadow until Storm's deep, resonant voice filled the small, empty dressing room. "Does it get easier Papa?"
The singer turned to him, unsure of his meaning. "I'm sure I don't know. This is only what? Our fifth show?"
"I guess I meant being here, topside, but probably the whole touring thing too, I guess."
"Oh, I wouldn't know about that. I've always been here on earth in one form or another. I guess it helps to find someone you can… share the experience with? Someone to talk to?"
"Yeah." Storm trailed off.
"Did you want to talk about it? I'm always here to listen to anything you all have to say, even if I'm not your true Papa yet—or if I'll ever be." They both sat in the dim gloom of the dressing room, the silence hanging heavy between them again like a veil.
"I'd like that…" Storm's voice was lulling and smooth. "Maybe once we're on the road again?"
"You can come to me whenever you need to."
"Thank you Papa. But we should probably go, shouldn't we? The others are waiting." Storm stood and followed Perpetua out to the bus, engine running, waiting for the singer and his final Ghoul. The bus lurched to life and turned out of the parking lot, ferrying them to their next destination under the black cover of night.
The evening found the singer lounging in his bed, reading a slim volume he had picked up from who knows where. The Ghouls were all out in the common room, relaxing after a long ritual and regaling each other with sordid tales of tours past. A soft knock sounded at his door and Perpetua called for them to enter. Storm's solid frame slipped through to the singer's room, shutting the door softly behind him.
"Hey Papa."
"You didn't want to stay with the others? Sounds like you're all having a lot of fun out there."
"We are, it's just… a lot for me right now."
"I understand." The singer patted the space beside him and watched as Storm climbed up onto the bed next to him, settling as comfortably as he could. On the bus they were free to unglamor themselves and the Air Ghoul was even more imposing than he was onstage: his hair and tail tuft were white with shifting streaks of grey, resembling his namesake. His horns were thick and ram-like curving around his goatish ears.
Storm wasn't much larger than he was in his human form, but he still took up the rest of the space on the bed next to Perpetua. The singer welcomed his calming presence; a sleepy comfort when one is nestled inside right before a large thunderstorm. Perpetua put his book aside and turned to his newest Ghoul.
"So, is this about that talk that we didn't get to have earlier?" The singer watched as Storm's ears drooped a little, nervousness lacing his tone.
"Maybe? I don't know, I guess I just don't feel like a real member of the pack, you know?" Perpetua did know. He'd felt that way since the minute they'd left on tour. But he had to be strong, for himself, for his Ghouls; they were all depending on him to step up and be the leader that they needed, even if he didn't feel like a worthy leader at all.
"It can be tough sometimes," he mused. "Feeling like you don't fit in anywhere. But as long as there's one person rooting for you to succeed, even if that's yourself, then you've at least got a chance of doing something right sometime, right?" His words seemed to ring hollow to his own ears, but he glanced down to see the tip of Storm's tail wagging hopefully.
"Yeah. And for what it's worth, I think you're a great leader, Papa."
"Thank you, Storm. That means a lot."
"If it's not an inconvenience, can I stay with you for a little while tonight? Just until the others go to sleep? It feels so isolating in my bunk by myself."
"Of course," Perpetua glanced at this sturdy Ghoul who seemed the most self-assured out of all of them. Maybe even people Perpetua assumed were big and strong—mentally and physically—could have some doubts at times. Storm snuggled down on his side of the bed, tucking his feet close to his chest, curling up like a huge house cat into Perpetua's side. The Air Ghoul kicked up a comfortingly deep purr as Perpetua resumed his book, gently reaching out to stroke Storm's soft hair—within perfect petting distance of his hand. He wondered if that was intentional?
Chapter Text
"Oohhh-!" Perpetua's gasp was stifled through the spaces of his fingers, slipping through the damp crack of his mouth, his face paint smeared against his lips as if by a lover's gently rough kiss. He was on his back, body cradled by Storm's strong arms—holding his legs apart as the Air Ghoul's sizable cock-head bumped against his slick rim.
Perpetua had grown closer and closer to the new Air Ghoul as the weeks and rituals had progressed, and ever since that fateful night of conversation and innocent affection, Storm had become his new favorite. The singer loved all of the Ghouls who were his family—his home away from home that he had barely spent a month in before they had gone out on tour—but the stocky Air Ghoul had something that the others didn't; a familiar newness that drew the two of them towards one another like the hand of Lucifer had ordained it.
The singer had broached the subject gently, seeing Storm starting to get a little more protective and possessive about him. But the new Air Ghoul didn't have much competition to worry about. The others were already paired off, or more, and found themselves interested in Perpetua in a purely professional capacity. Storm seemed to be the singer's constant shadow—trailing him to the dressing room, lingering close during bows. The Air Ghoul was his loyal guard dog, but how much longer could they deny their attraction to one another?
Perpetua put his book down one night with a niggling question on his lips: "Storm, do Ghouls experience love down in the Pits?"
The Air Ghoul, taking up the majority of his own side of the bed looked up from his phone. "I wouldn't know."
"You mean you never…"
"Never what?" That question made the singer flush. What was he supposed to say? You've never been with someone? You never experienced a loving relationship? You've never fuc-? Perpetua cleared his throat as Storm sat up, crossing his legs and looking at the obviously squirming singer.
"Just because I didn't know love down there didn't mean that other stuff didn't happen," Storm eyed Perpetua blatantly. "We weren't all exactly monogamous like a lot of humans are up here."
"So you all just… hooked up?"
"Sometimes. Sometimes it was more casual, sometimes there were squabbles or stolen mates, the usual drama that some humans experience. Aren't we all pretty similar when it comes down to it?"
"I guess so."
The ravine-voiced Air Ghoul turned the question around. "Have you experienced love up here, Papa?"
"Well, no, I suppose I… haven't really had time, all things considered." Perpetua's answer was delightfully vague, conveniently skipping over his murky childhood and everything before he was elected as Papa.
Storm's face grew curious, his eyes swirling like building clouds; Perpetua could smell the damp crackle of electricity in the air. "Do you think you might want to fall in love with me?" The question was so innocent coming from such a pure-hearted Ghoul. Storm had been nothing but loyal to the singer ever since he had been summoned and sent on tour with them. And how could Perpetua even think of saying 'no'? It wasn't like they didn't see each other every day. The Air Ghoul was practically sleeping in his room every night now as it was.
That was how Perpetua had found himself spread open in Storm's lap, whimpering through his fingers as the Air Ghoul pressed his shaft against the singer's slick, stretched hole. The Air Ghoul's digits had wormed their way one by one into his tight channel, scissoring gently as Storm cooed and whispered to him, complimenting him for how good he was doing, how pretty he was; every dirty little thing got the singer's cock jolting against his smooth stomach, leaving a messy trail of excitement in the wake of the Air Ghoul's shimmering words of praise.
"Gonna fill you up, Papa… You're doing so well for me…" The Air Ghoul lowered Perpetua down carefully against his rigid flesh, feeling the singer's body stretch to admit him. Perpetua trembled as another stifled groan filled his palm, legs shaking in Storm's strong grip—keeping his legs apart as he was impaled by this Ghoul's impressive girth. They had been careful, taken everything so slow, and Perpetua had even come once already, but he'd begged to be filled up by something else too.
He wanted to know what it was like to have this Air Ghoul sliding all of the way inside of him, driving him to the brink of his sanity with toe-curling pleasure. And Storm didn't disappoint. This gentle giant treated him like something precious and playful; an adored toy that Storm cherished and kept as safe as can be—but was also taking expertly apart like it was his job.
"Mmm-!" Perpetua gnawed his lower lip, black paint smeared against his teeth and tongue. He'd meant to clean up a little before they'd started messing around but he'd never gotten the chance. He hadn't even showered after the ritual and was sure he reeked of post-show sweat, but all of that just seemed to spur the Air Ghoul on even more, those damp lips trailing from his throat to his ear with a whispered breath.
"You're so pretty onstage; even more beautiful in my arms…" The singer keened as another luscious inch slid into him, feeling like his breath was being pushed from his lungs as Storm continued to fill up the empty spaces inside of him. Perpetua let his hand fall from his mouth, his fingers digging into the Ghoul's meaty arms. Storm was controlling his languorous descent and this slow teasing pressure was driving him out of his head.
"Almost there, Papa…" the Air Ghoul purred, every inch the beast that Perpetua knew that he was. With a grunt and a sigh, Storm was finally seated fully inside and the singer's inhale was shallowly sated. He exhaled, trying to relax against this fullness and failing miserably. The more his muscles shifted and formed around the Air Ghoul's cock the deeper it seemed to slide—and he wasn't sure if he couldn't actually feel it pushing up against his diaphragm.
The Air Ghoul eased out after a long moment and Perpetua gritted his teeth at the strangeness of the sensation, gasping as the Ghoul shifted like a living quake beneath him and slid back in. The rhythm Storm set was slow and deliberate, his movements careful and pointed, flashing his fangs in a self-satisfied smile as the head of his cock brushed across the singer's sweet spot.
"Guunngh! Ahh!" Perpetua jolted and moaned in surprise as the Air Ghoul hooked his forearm under both of the singer's knees, clamping a gentle hand over his mouth, the soft sound of thunder rumbled between them as Storm groaned behind him with a sultry whisper.
"Not too loud, love," Perpetua's cock blurted out a glob of pre against his stomach at that one perfect word. Love. Was this love? Did Storm love him? The singer certainly felt appreciated, revered even, as the Air Ghoul sank in up to the hilt again with one smooth shove. His legs were shaking, his slim backside pillowed on the Air Ghoul's squishy bulk. That formidable shaft was stretching him to his limits, making his eyes water and his brain fuzzy at the edges. Thinking about anything more than what they were doing right now was beyond impossible.
Storm's palm fell away from his face, smudged with black, which was summarily smeared onto the back of his thigh as the Air Ghoul steadied him—continuing to glide into his body, pushing out soft groans that were growing in pitch with every passing minute. The singer was practically limp in Storm's arms. He had just enough brain power to moan his pleasure as the Air Ghoul's hips sped up, now pressing him down to shove that thick piece all the way up to the root.
Perpetua's jaw was slack, a trail of saliva slicking his chin. He couldn't even focus on the ceiling; his vision was swimming too much. He clutched at the Air Ghoul's corded arms with his chipped painted nails, a groan slipping from his drooling mouth as Storm grunted in his ear. "You're so tight, Papa…Gonna let me fill you up like you deserve?"
The Air Ghoul's dirty words made his blood flare and his cock throb, finding himself teetering on the edge of his peak already. This delicious high—that he was sure he would feel with any other Ghoul in the pack—was making him lightheaded. He was beyond happy that he had allowed Storm to be his first. The Air Ghoul was tender and teasing, using just enough force to make him feel safe and so out of control.
"Ohh! Ohh! St-Storm!" Perpetua's voice fell from his lips like a plea, a begging prayer sent up into the fathomless ether. He was weightless in the Air Ghoul's arms, no longer fully himself; he was some boneless, soulless well of desire that lived only to feel this penetrating and perfect lust.
Storm's mouth brushed the shell of his ear, coaxing and deep. "Close, Papa…" That one sinful admission set Perpetua's nerves ablaze, his own shaft throbbing and leaking between his bent legs. It jolted in time with the Air Ghoul's rugged thrusts as Storm continued to press him down, forcing him to accept every inch like some kind of beautiful penitence.
"Nngh! Ahh! There it is!" The Air Ghoul's length pulsed and pressed against his sensitive walls as Storm clutched Perpetua to his chest, his hips rutting up against the singer's backside with feral intensity. Perpetua's stuttered moan was shaky and breathless as he arched against that searing spill, his cock spurting white-hot streaks across his stomach.
Storm continued to hold him, letting his legs down slowly to rest against the Air Ghoul's downy ones. The singer's panting had slowed to a more even rhythm as he winced, feeling the Ghoul's spill leaking out between them against his ass. He groaned happily and giggled as Storm's fingers wandered over his sweat-slick skin in comforting patterns.
"We should go clean up, huh?" The Air Ghoul's voice was honest and lazy.
"Oh, I suppose…" Perpetua acquiesced, struggling to sit up and flushing at the realization that Storm was still nestled inside of him. The Air Ghoul didn't move to slip out; instead he shifted to cradle the singer's body against him even tighter, chuckling good-naturedly as Perpetua keened softly at the changed angle, settling back sleepily against his chest.
"Maybe in a few minutes… this is nice…" Perpetua slurred, snuggling down against Storm's lingering kisses left one by one along the line of his throat. He could definitely get used to a love like this.