#the nightmarket of dathomir

[thenightmarketofdathomir]

Wishmonger, humble us today with visions of silence and pleasure. Bless us with indulgence over a 'lover' that is quiet and an impatient, proud Maul who would rather make said lover scream his name in an ungodly prayer ♥

Also. Horns. Please. Horns. Horns. Please.

Hey babe.

This is how it is (on this headcanon where I exist) on this blog:

You do not touch a Nightbrother's horns without permission.

You do not touch a Nightbrother's horns without being invited.

You do not... touch... a Nightbrother's horns... because they are the First Weapon.

They are the Crown. For a King.

So fucking kneel for him.

Do. You. Understand?

Warnings: D/s, cock service, SA (Nightsisters) mention, fingering

Do you know why we're going to do all three brothers, dear? Because someday, some time, I'm gonna get you off Plo and bring you to the Dark Side.

Feral: Wears them short. Cropped close. Less obstrusive. Easier to maintain. It's a choice. A preference. A style, if you will. Makes him look innocent. Big WINKY FACE. Uses his "uwu baby" status to his advantage to lure you in. You can slat your fingers through them where he's most sensitive, but the thing about Feral is that he's garnered the most resistance. (Nightsisters.) He's cultivated it. And you? Thinking you've got him sorted? You're putty in his fingers when he pecks a kiss to your cheek and starts chuckling. He's got you where he wants you. Your ass in his grip when he nips your neck. What did you think? You were in charge here? Then why are you sweating when he spreads your legs with that smile on his face?

Savage: Doesn't let you touch them. Tacks your hands above your head and slaps your back to whatever surface is nearest. Remembers respect that was forgotten. Doesn't fuck with it. He scents your confusion. Your fear. Your apprehension when you realize your error. "You don't put your hands on them unless invited," he growls into the meat of your neck, but let's face it, honey, you've decided the way this is going to go from the start. Wagged a treat in front of the beast. He's spreading your legs, his touch rough against your slit to remind you of your place. He rubs it. He rubs it. He rubs it. "Are you going to remember what this feels like?" he asks you, but by that point your painting. Do you remember their texture? Will you ever?

Maul: Two touches: your fingers to his horns, your knees to the ground. Here is the lesson: no matter how quiet you are, you should always ask. He wants to hear it: whispered fervently into the shell of his ear on a breath steamed with impatience and all your fervour. Do you think Sidious ever offered him that indulgence? You should have known he likes it when you're desperate. But that's not an excuse -- the timing was perfect and you were too daring, so here is your lesson as you kneel on stinging knees: you deserved this. You are in his service. So crawl to him and make your pleas for forgiveness -- open your mouth because it's softer. Because it's wet. Because he likes it when you beg him to bestow you with some favour. Here is Dathomir's chosen. Here is his indifference because he has nothing to offer but his praise, his forgiveness, his prosthetic. It's a benediction. Take it.

[thenightmarketofdathomir]

Excited to see what wares the Nightmarket has today! Trick or treat!

House of Night Headcanons: On Death and the Afterlife among the Nightsisters of Dathomir

Warnings: Death, resurrection, zombification and death preparations, death rituals

There are twin sculptures that guard the gates to the Nightsister's mortuary. Women, of course. Deities, in fact. Not gods in the literal sense because Dathomir has always had two of them (one has Fangs and one has Wings, if you remember) but these two Nightsisters were once great warriors elevated to god-status. The Nightbrothers don't remember the story. It's not theirs to own, and any territories leftover from the war are left to ruin and decay. Good riddance a lot of them say.

The structure itself is carved directly from one of the mountains, and when you pass through the doors, all is silence. Everything is dark. In the aftermath of the Battle of Dathomir, no one goes there. The Nightbrothers believe it to be haunted. Not surprising considering how superstitious they are -- some places are off limits. The Lair where the Nightsisters lived, for example, but especially the mortuary where they prepared their dead for the afterlife.

You might be asking at this point, how do they know about it if it was forbidden in the first place? Nightbrothers were servants, so it's inevitable that Nightbrother hands carried the Nightsister dead for preparation. They never touched them. Those rituals were reserved for anyone with magick, and being bereft of the ichor and the power to control it, a Nightbrother wouldn't be involved in the process. That doesn't mean that those carrying the bodies never spied the goings on of those rituals -- someone had to be curious. Someone would return to tell the tale to the other brothers around the campfire in the flickering light, when the darkness crept in.

The Nightsisters were familiar with making their own graves, the structures used to lift the funerary pods and the egg-shaped coffins themselves. Rancor leather and sinew stitching, wrapped with red linens -- red, the colour of blood which was sacred to their Fanged God, who granted them the power of resurrection. built exactly to resemble their sacred gravethorns, it's no surprise that the pods resemble wombs, because these women went to the slumber of death knowing they were awaiting their rebirth.

Sure, the bodies were prepared with sacred oils infused with the Water of Life to anoint them, holding skin and bone together to prevent decomposition, and tucked into a slumbering position into their coffins so lovingly built to protect them in their afterlife.

But what the Nightbrothers didn't realize is that preparations for their death and return came long before a Nightsister departed this life. The ritual began while they were living: a commitment ceremony of sorts, and preparations. Lessons. Spells and rituals to better prepare them to be called back so that when they died, their spirit would be ready to rise to their true purpose and vocation. The House of Night was a school first: it taught the Nightsisters how to die with honour so they could return to fulfill their oaths to their sisters: they would rise to protect Dathomir when summoned.