Mushy May Day 5 - Animals (Aether/Dew)

have you considered: Mountain/Aether strength kink

Oh, I am considering.

Considering Aether, hauling Mountain up over his shoulder and carrying him down the hall. One big arm wrapped around his thighs.

Thinking about the little sound Mountain makes whenever Aether lifts him, drags him around, or otherwise manhandles him.

Mountain loses his mind when he realizes Aether can throw him. No one can pick Mountain up, no one can really bully him around without him allowing them to. But Aether? Mountain doesn't stand a chance against Aether's strength.

He feels small in Aether's arms. Feels delicate. Breakable. Aether maneuvers him with no trouble. Knows exactly what leverage to use to put and keep Mountain where he wants him.

Mountain can't get enough of it.

And then, of course, there's the reverse.

No one ever manhandles Aether either. He's big. Sturdy. He doesn't expect anyone to be able to really pin him down. Hold him in place. He, like Mountain, has to allow himself to be pressed into the dirt and fucked. Has to pretend that he can't really get away.

Until, of course. Mountain pins him in the greenhouse one day. Presses his cheek right into the soft dirt on the greenhouse floor and Aether pushes up against him and realizes he's actually stuck.

That he can't get away from Mountain if Mountain doesn't want him to. The thrill that runs up his spine at that makes him shudder and rut his hips into the dirt.

He whines, pathetic, and Mountain laughs at him.

They seek each other out for it, a lot. Whenever Mountain wants to feel small, or Aether wants to feel weak, they know where to go.

Mushy may prompt list by the wonderful @forlorn-crows

Day 20: gardening

I was sad and this image came to me so here we are. Also the last prompt I'm doing for this one, it was fun 🖤

Mountain/Dew a touch of angst from Dew but he's ok

Dew nervously twists the toe of his shoe in the loose little pebbles of the path just outside of the greenhouse. It feels weird, like standing in front of a shell of a home he used to live in, like a ghost keeping to the shadows, hoping to not be caught so it's allowed to stay.

This used to be his favorite place, one of the first he got comfortable in after he was summoned. He couldn't count the hours he spent down here with Mountain, smiling, laughter dissolving into make outs and rosy cheeks. They are memories he doesn't think about often, his shadow in the images bleeding into Rain's shape, seeing him fit so perfectly where Dew once had.

He doesn't regret his transition but there were losses all the same. This one stings though, a nagging little papercut that persists no matter how much time passes.

He loved this place. He loved Mountain in this place, he loved how he had Mountain in this place, just the two of them.

Nothing was stopping him from going down, not really. Nothing apart from his own mind, how it flashed with flames when he thought of going in, how he worried to touch the plants he used to help nourish, terrified he'd burn their little leaves to ash. Afraid he'd do the same to Mountain.

He knew it was stupid. He'd been with Mountain countless times since the transition but there is something about the greenhouse that feels like he just....can't cross that line he drew in the sand.

"Dew?"

He jumps at Mountain's voice, so lost in his own thoughts he hadn't heard him opening the door and wandering out partially. His hands are dirty and Dew misses the grit against his skin when Mount would guide him through repotting a little sprout.

"Sorry...shit sorry I just I'm...I'm-"

"Coming in this time?" He sounds hopeful, painfully so and when Dew risks it all and meets his eyes they're bright, almost begging without words.

He glances between the giant and the glass structure behind him, the warm air inside and the dim little fairy lights inviting...

"I..."

"S'ok." Mountain smiles, just a little thing, reaching his hand out as he backs into the greenhouse.

He takes a hesitant step forward, like maybe the earth outside the entrance is boobie trapped for him. He grabs Mountain's hand with his breath and heartbeat both trapped in his throat when Mountain tugs him softly over the threshold.

It all floods back to him. The smells, the humid air, the way Mountain feels different here.

"Take your time." Mountain doesn't drop his hand but he doesn't pin him with his eyes either, focusing instead on some little bunch of flowers that still have little drops of water clinging to their delicate petals.

He thinks of Rain, thinks of his gentle touch, thinks of his own hands and how much he loved this, how Mountain would smile just for him and he would turn to face him like a little bloom chasing the sun.

"I shouldn't...I shouldn't be in here."

"Why?"

"It's just not mine anymore. I can't give them anything." He clears his throat hoping his words don't shake. "It's Rain's now."

Mountain tilts his head, his ears drooping a bit. "Do you know the very first thing Rain does every single time he's in here?"

And obviously he doesn't! He shakes his head and Mountain grabs his hand, pulling him off to plants that are thriving along one of the walls.

"He comes to these because you planted them. Out of everything in here, these are his favorite because you took care of them."

"But-"

"No but. You've never not belonged here. I understand why you stopped, why maybe it felt different but different doesn't mean wrong, it certainly never meant unwelcome."

Dew wants to turn into Mountain's chest but he doesn't, his hands shake as he lets the words sink in as his eyes stay glued to the plants he had loved so much because Mount had taught him how.

"I know the things you think about yourself Dew." He squeezes his fingers, pulls his knuckles up to kiss them. "I know what you're afraid these hands will do, but I know them. I know you."

Dew let's himself look at his hands and he knows he knows how to be gentle, how to touch with softness and care. He loves more often than he bruises but the fear still simmers just under his skin that one day he will lose control of what he is and he will be helpless to stop it.

"Come here, I want to show you something."

Dew let's Mountain lead him off, cocking his head when the giant stops in front of a bed of succulents.

"Is this your way of calling me a prick?" His lips twitch with the possibility of a smile.

Mountain laughs and shakes his head, the tension easing off his face. "No you ding dong!"

Dews glad for the distraction, the laughter between them standing here feels so familiar and he hadn't fully realized just how much he actually missed it.

"I started growing them after your transition. I...I needed something that felt like you in here, I needed something to show you..."

"Show me what?"

"That you don't need your water to be beautiful." His eyes drift from one of the little cactus flowers just starting to bloom among the spikes it sits on to Dew's eyes.

Dew lifts up onto his toes and kisses him. Mountain's big dirty hands slot against his back perfectly, fitting just right the way they always did. Hes dizzy with the memories, a welcome sort of deja vu as he melts against Mountain.

Mountain smiles when they break apart, fingers brushing Dew's hair back, cheeks pink.

"Welcome back, droplet."

Swiss covering my mouth...I mean, Phantom's mouth with his big hands. Now, that's a thought.

Phantom from being all shy and quiet when he first enters the pack to him being the most vocal little cutie during sex. Not able to keep quiet for more than a second. He also has to giggle in between the most obscene moans and whimpers. Sometimes he is so loud and nonstop moaning and muttering filthy nonsense that it gets a bit too much for his partners.

They say Swiss sometimes covers Phantom's mouth with his hand and tells him to "shut the fuck up, already" while he fucks him.

This only makes Phantom lose his mind more. Obviously. 👹

Day three of @cirrus-ghoulette 's whump month: Homesick

Cw: drowning, suicide, manipulation, hallucination, lmk if i missed any

Dew doesn't know when he started feeling this way. He's been fire for years now, why is he suddenly yearning for the water again? The water, the cool darkness only water ghouls can survive in. Yeah, he's swam, yeah his gills are still semi functional, but it's not the same. It'll never be the same.

He wants to go back to the water, permanently. He knows it'll kill him, but he wants to do it anyway. No he doesn't. He doesn't want to die, but the water calls for him, like a siren calling for a sailor, luring them to their death. Maybe he could talk to Delta, see if Delta deals with the same thoughts he does.

But he doesn't. He doesn't want to bother Delta. Maybe these thoughts will stop.

They didn't. In fact, they got worse every time he saw a deep body of water. The water sings a secret song that only he can seem to hear. It's hypnotic. It infests his mind, takes over his thoughts.

He starts to envy Rain and Mist, how they swim so freely, submerge themselves fully, touch the bottom of the lake. He wants to take their abilities from them, use them to go to the bottom of the lake one last time, but he won't. He loves the water ghouls, he couldn't hurt them like that. But if he dies he's only truly hurting himself right?

That's how he ended up here. By the lake. At four in the morning. Too late for any sibling to be up, too early for any ghoul to be up. Besides the feral ones that act as guards around the ministry at night. They wouldn't pay any attention to him though.

He walks close to the edge of the lake. Should he really do this?

Yes. The water calls to him, Come back to me. Come back home, Droplet.

That's all it takes before he's walking into the water. The water reaches his ankles and the sharp sting of cold hits him, but he tredges on. The water touches his belly button, he's used to the temperature. The water's up to his chin, he has one more chance to go back to the ministry, his “home”, but the water calls again.

Droplet. Return. Embrace your natural element, be reborn as what you truly are.

That's a lie, it's all lies. He won't be reborn, he'll die. But he listens anyway. He takes the final step; he's fully submerged, from head to toe. He can breathe through his gills, but just barely. He continues walking. He breathes through his gills, the remnants of them fluttering as if they never broke in the first place.

As he goes deeper, it gets harder to breathe, the pressure from the water pressing on his lungs. Once he fully reaches the bottom of the lake he feels at peace, but also panicked. He can't breathe, he wants to swim back up, get out of the water, but it's holding him down.

You can't leave Droplet, you've just returned. We won't let you leave. The water hisses at him.

The lack of oxygen in his body makes him hallucinate, see spirits of the water around him, pushing him down to the floor of the lake, making him lay down.

Welcome home, Droplet. The spirits giggle as they hold him down.

As his vision gets blurry he starts to regret this. As much as he loved the water it wasn't his home. His home was the ministry, with his pack, teaching Phantom how to be a menace, sloppy makeout sessions with Swiss, baking in the kitchen with Aurora, having the sweetest sex with Cirrus, spending time with his pack, hell, even being scolded by Copia. He made the wrong choice.

Somehow, even while being underwater, he can feel tears run down his face. He wasn't ready to die, he didn't want to die. There was still so much to do. As he feels his consciousness slip away, he feels something grab his hand. His vision is too blurry for him to see so he lets the hand grab him.

He doesn't know how, but he's on the dirt of the banks of the lake and there's a faceless ghoul next to him.

“It's not your time.” The ghoul whispers before disappearing into the darkness.

Ghoulbangers Ball 02 - Glasgow

Ifrit: I'm incredibly fast at Math Dewdrop: Oh really? Dewdrop: What's 30x17? Ifrit: 42 Aether: That's not even close! Ifrit: But it was fast

Sometimes I feel that someone should do a welfare check on that guitar

it’s not even 8am why must you do this

If you're comfortable doing so, maybe something that delves into Phantom/Aeons time in the pit and how his bad experiences there impact him now that he's topside

hey? hey anon? how did you know I've been wanting to talk about Aeon's parents for six months?

Contains child abuse and discussion of child abandonment, eye injury, and nightmares. Aeon uses they/them for themself, but their parents don't know that and use he/him for them.

(this does expand on lore I wrote for Eternal Heatstroke, but you don't need to read that to read this)

divider by @wrathofrats

"The kit's not getting any bigger, Oasis."

Aeon's left ear twitches at the sound of Caldera's voice, rough and crackling like her fire. They come to awareness, but don't dare open their eyes. They don't want their guardians to know they're awake yet, the sinking feeling in their gut telling them that they are not supposed to be witnessing this conversation. The ground is rough underneath their side, and the campfire crackles in flashes of orange even through their eyelids. The three of them have been settled here for a little over a week, about time to pack up and move through the older ghouls' territory, finding somewhere else to bed down.

"How many times have I told you that quint kits are called pups, Cal," Oasis sighs. There's the sound of a hand running over a face. Both of them have been doing that a lot more recently, and Aeon can't tell who it is without opening their eyes. The air is thick with sulfur and smoke, and it stings at their nose.

"Frankly, I don't fucking care what they're called," she says. "We've been raising him for Lucifer knows how long because we thought he'd be strong enough to help us defend our territory. And he's at the point he should have grown. He's still so small."

There's disdain in her voice, one of her paws tapping at the ground in irritation. Aeon's brow furrows. They're not small. They might be skinny, but they're a full head taller than Caldera is, just above eye level with Oasis. They do know that Cal's small for a fire ghoulette, has encountered other fire ghouls who've tried to claim what their guardians have staked as their own.

"Cal, you've gotta have patience-" Oasis tries to reason, but he's never been able to stop her. When Caldera sets her mind to something, Aeon knows she stops at nothing to get her way.

"How long have we been going hungry to keep him around?" she growls, and Aeon can almost hear the sparks from her tongue. "Years and years of our lives, I'm so fucking tired of waiting. The kit can hardly even use his magick and he's practically an adult."

"What do we even know about quintessence ghouls, Cal?" Oasis keeps trying to reason. "We can't teach him magick we don't even understand."

"I don't fucking care," Caldera snarls at her mate. "I'm done. Keeping him was your idea in the first place. You want to keep the kit around? That'll be on you then. But then I'm out."

There's a commotion, someone getting to their feet rapidly. "That's just fucking like you, Cal. You'd really give up on how long we've been mated over our son?"

Caldera laughs, loud enough that Aeon thinks they have a solid excuse to wake up. They keep feigning sleep though. "Our son? Oasis, are you insane? You were the one who thought a quintessence ghoul be a good investment for the pack."

Aeon's heart falls through their stomach, trying desperately to process what they're hearing. Investment. Oasis had always told them that he'd found them, small and abandoned, so young that their eyes hadn't even opened yet. That the two of them wanted a kit to take care of. They feel like the rug's been yanked out from under them.

They don't have much time to process it though, because Oasis sighs, tossing something back and forth between his hands. Aeon doesn't need to open their eyes to know it's a pebble, something that had caught his eye at some point. "Fine, Cal. But you tell him."

Aeon tenses as rapid footsteps approach their sleeping form, trying hard to not curl up into a ball preemptively. A hot hand grabs their shoulder, the threatening bite of sharp claws even through their threadbare shirt.

"Wake up," Caldera says, low and dangerous as she shakes their shoulder. Even though they had some warning, they still yelp, tail tucked between their legs. Their eyes go wide at the fury in Caldera's expression, her growl as she hauls them to their feet.

"Cal-" Aeon stammers, trying not to struggle against her grip. Knows it's easier to let her put them where she wants than to fight it.

"None of that, runt," she snaps, and both of their violet eyes go wide. She's never- They've never- "You're grown, now. It's time for you to find your own place."

"Right now?" Aeon says, tipping their head back and baring their throat, trying to appease her. All the while, Oasis stands by the fire, watching distantly. "Oasis, please tell her I can't."

"He's not going to help you, runt. We're both ready for you to go," Cal says. There's a fire in her yellow eyes, red and orange flickering in her irises.

They stammer, glancing back and forth between their guardians. "That's not true, I heard you talking-" Aeon freezes and cuts themself off as Caldera's expression morphs, grip curling tighter into the collar of Aeon's shirt, claws punching through the threadbare fabric. They can feel the keratin against their skin, and they swallow hard.

"Oh? So you were eavesdropping?"

"No- I couldn't help it!"

She growls, pulling hard and shoving them towards the campfire. They stumble, paw catching on the brimstone, and they fall hard, twisting onto their back to look up at her. "I'm not going to say it again," she snarls, looming above them. The firelight makes her features sharper, fangs shining. "Get the fuck out."

They slowly push themself up to standing. Aeon finds the courage in their gut to growl back at her, ears pinned back against their head, tail lashing behind them as they bare their fangs and get in her face. "I'm not fucking going anywhere, this is my pack too!"

Aeon knows it's a mistake the moment the words leave their mouth.

Caldera screams in frustration and rage. The last thing Aeon sees out of their left eye is her claws glinting dark in the firelight.

There's a shriek. Aeon wonders why their throat hurts until they realize it's them shrieking. The world spins, blinding hot pain radiating from their face and scalp, and they can feel their heartbeat in the marrow of their left horn. They can't see.

They can't see.

There's something hot and sticky running down their face, and they cup their hand over their eye, cringing at the wetness.

Caldera doesn't even flinch as Aeon's blood drips in rivulets from her claws. "You fucking heard me, you ungrateful brat. We've fed and taken care of you your entire life. You can pay us back by fucking leaving."

She lunges, and Aeon's feet act on instinct, scrambling away from her. They clutch their face, hearing the blood spatter, their shirt sticking to their chest, heavy and wet. Aeon's head spins, and Caldera's behind them, chasing, and Aeon's seen her hunt.

There's no chance of outrunning her, even as their legs scramble underneath them. They run, lungs aching and head spinning, and there's two pounding sets of footfalls behind them.

Aeon sobs, chest heaving with exertion. Their ankle twists in the brimstone, and they stumble into the ground. Blood and tears stream down their cheeks in equal measure. It's over. They're de-

There's a hand on their shoulder.

Aeon jolts awake with a yelp, scrambling backwards into the corner of the couch out from under a big piece of white fabric that was covering them. It takes a moment to recognize their surroundings, fluorescent lights, a big desk in the opposite corner, an empty office chair, slightly rotating like someone stood up in a hurry. A large shape backlit looms over them, making a strange, familiar sound.

Aeon snarls before the sound registers, their entire body slumping as Aether chuffs at them. "Hey, you're alright, pup, you're safe," he breathes, his big hand hovering over their shoulder, his silver bracelet glinting in the light. "You were dreaming."

They nod, reaching up to touch at the scars running through though their left eye and biting back a sob. Aether nods back, cautiously sitting next to the younger quintessence ghoul and pulling them close, chuffing all the while.

"My shift just ended," Aether whispers, shifting them until Aeon's practically in his lap. "Do you want to go back to the den?"

Aeon nods quietly. Aether gently wipes away a tear from the silvery track across their cheek with a big thumb. They've been shadowing him to learn about infirmary work, a few months away from actually working on their own. "You want a hug, pup?"

"Please," they whisper, shoving Aether's white coat off of their legs. They'd been using it as a blanket while they napped on the couch in his office. The bigger ghoul draws them in, chuffing and nosing at their hair.

Aeon settles, eventually, and they stand hand in hand. "Can we go home?" Aeon asks, and Aether smiles, flashing a gold capped fang at them.

"Of course, pup, let's go home to our pack."

You idiot

Swiss loves the winter and Mountain is the reason.

Characters: Swiss, Mountain Word count: 446

Swiss loved winter; he just loved it. And the reason for that was a certain earth ghoul, who was currently snuggled up to him, snoring softly. The sun wasn’t up yet, and the multi was lucky that he could turn up his body heat, as it was freezing cold outside. Under the blanket, it was cosy, to say the least. Swiss had his tail wrapped around Mountain's waist, one leg tossed over Mountain's, clinging to him. Unfortunately, the tall ghoul was wearing a shirt, so Swiss couldn’t simply admire his soft skin. And the freckles on his shoulder were also nearly completely gone, which was kind of sad, Swiss thought so at least.

There was the best part of winter, though: Mountain's paunch. How his lover grew from slim to chubby every winter never failed to amaze Swiss. He loved that tummy, trailing his fingers over the ghoul's happy trail, pinching the soft skin. The way it wiggled when Swiss savoured him, how he could hold onto it, sinking his fingers into that bit of fat...

One of his hands found its way under the hem of the drummer's shirt, caressing his gut.

“What ya doin’?” the earth ghoul grunted softly without opening his eyes, his voice thick with sleep.

“Admiring you,” he answered with a grin.

Mountain snorted and cracked an eye open, watching the other.

“You idiot,” he mumbled quietly, but the smile on his lips spoke for itself.

Swiss squeezed the gut and chuckled at Mountain's reaction, who wiggled a bit. So the multi repeated the motion until the taller ghoul had enough and slipped his hands under the blanket, pulling the other's arms away and rolling them so he could press Swiss into the mattress.

Now it was Swiss's turn to laugh his lungs out, as Mountain knew exactly where to tickle him. And while his hands had Swiss's arms pinned away, his tail was free and attacked the multi's side, making him squirm and laugh.

“Stop! Mount-”

It was hard to form a sentence when you couldn’t really breathe, something Swiss knew from experience; and Mountain did too. He let the other suffer until the only thing coming from him were faint pleas to stop.

“So? Will you be a good boy now?” he asked with a grin, still holding the other's arms. And to his surprise, Swiss nodded, his cheeks completely flushed, chest rising fast.

What Mountain didn’t realize was that Swiss got what he wanted: the earth ghoul grounding him, showing how much winter affected his body and how soft he got. So even with the “torture” he had to go through, the multi counted it as a win. _______________

let me tag you here @icechippies