Hi, Hello, It's Me Again! How Are You? I Have A Rather Odd Request (at Least From My Perspective) That

water and fire

(screenie taken from here)

Mushy May: Sex into making love

I'll be real this one got away from me but oh do I love these two...also Ifrit has a big fat praise kink and you cannot change my mind

Pairing: Zephrit

Word Count: 2250

They always fall into each other so easily. A wink from Ifrit at breakfast. A lingering touch from Zephyr when they share lunch. Uncontrollable hands and tails at dinner. They touch and they taste and they tease each other all day until one of them finally breaks. Tonight it was Zephyr who fell like a tree in a windstorm. They can’t be blamed. Not when Ifrit had been whispering absolute filth into their feathered ear while cuddled up in the common room for movie night. They lost it when he nuzzled into the feathers on their neck, hands squeezing their inner thighs. Zephyr excused both of them, feigning a migraine as reason for their exit. 

The moment the two were back in their shared room Zephyr took their long white hair out of the bun it had been in all day. They shook their head, running a talon through the strands to scratch at their scalp. Ifrit watched, leaning against the door with his arms crossed and a grin on his face. 

“Want me to braid it for you birdie? Since your head just hurts so much” Ifrit pushes off the door, closing the distance between them. 

“I want you on your knees” Zephyr doesn’t look up at him, eyes closed while they fiddle with a knotted strand. 

Ifrit chuckles as they move to sit on the edge of the bed. He raises an eyebrow when their legs spread, looking at him expectantly. 

“Oh come on birdie you know that’s not how this works” Ifrit looms over them. 

“Really now” they tilt their head in question “then why don’t you tell me how it works love.” 

He leans in, caging them with his arms “you lay there and take it. Until you’re begging.” 

Zephyr snorts a laugh “I’m sorry love it’s impossible to take you serious” they faux wipe a tear from their eye “now be a good boy and get on your knees for me.” 

“Or what?” 

The temperature of the room drastically lowers as the scent of citrus becomes overwhelming. Ifrit doesn’t have time to backpedal before he feels immense pressure all around him. He falls to the floor with a hard thud that’s sure to leave bruises in the morning. Zephyr looks down at him with disgust, yellow eyes glowing and hair flowing in an imperceptible breeze. 

“Wasn’t so hard” they pat his cheek before maneuvering around to quickly pull their clothes off. 

Ifrit’s eyes rake over their body, that suave persona leaving the moment he sees those soft down feathers between their legs. He wants to bury his face in them, dip a bit lower to taste. He tries to scoot forward when they sit back down, but the pressure is still heavy around him. Zephyr huffs a laugh when they see that look in his eyes. 

“Hells you’re so easy. It’s cute, really” they spread their legs further putting their half hard cock on display “come on. Make good use of that mouth.” 

The pressure lessens just enough for Ifrit to move in. He runs his nose down that happy trail of feathers, purring at the softness. He travels further down where feather turns to skin. He breathes in deeply, mouthing at the base of their cock. Zephyr shudders and tugs his horn. He gets the hint, dropping his mouth and letting his tongue loll out. 

They slowly feed it to him, inch by inch until their cock is all the way down his throat. It’s quiet except for the heavy breaths Ifrit exhales through his nose. Zephyr pets his cheek, cooing about how sweet he looks before fucking into his mouth. Ifrit gags and they give him a moment to breathe. Ifrit looks up at them through wet lashes and they fist his hair, groaning in response. Ifrit huffs a laugh. 

“And you say I’m easy.”

Zephyr doesn’t get the chance to respond. Ifrit suckles at the head of their cock before taking them right back down his throat. They have to fight to keep the noise that threatens to rise down in their chest. Their hips twitch forward with every pass of Ifrit’s tongue against the underside of their cock every time he bobs his head. Up and down. Up and down. The wet click of his throat each time the tip presses in is maddening. Zephyr can’t stand how much of an effect he has on them. They wrap a hand around his horn, pulling him off of their dick with an obscene pop. He stares up at them, half lidded eyes and drool running down his chin. They pull him into a sloppy kiss, tongue immediately slipping into his mouth. Ifrit moans into their mouth, tilting his head up to chase their taste. 

“I need you. Right now” Zephyr pants into the space between them. 

“How do you want me?” 

“Fuck on your back love. I need to ride you.” 

Ifrit presses back in, capturing them in a quick equally messy kiss before pulling back. Ifrit stands slowly and Zephyr snaps their fingers, releasing all of the pressure around him. Ifrit nearly falls over with the sudden change, but Zephyr darts a hand out to catch him. He just laughs, shakes his head, and crawls into the bed. He lays against the pillows, stretching himself out and wrapping a hand around his cock. He lazily strokes himself from root to tip, watching Zephyr settle between his legs. 

They slide up to straddle his hips, letting the head of his cock catch against their ass. Ifrit’s eyes flutter at the feeling. 

“Eyes open now. You know better than that” Zephyr coos. 

He does know better, but fuck it’s so hard to look at them when they sink onto his cock. It’s too much for him to watch the mask slip, watch the way their face softens in pleasure all because of him. He’s cum like that before, practically untouched and so sensitive, all because of that look in their eyes. Even so, he’ll always give his birdie what they want. 

He forces his eyes open and Zephyr grins. They hoist themselves up on shaking legs, reaching back to wrap a hand around his cock. They squeeze, a warning for Ifrit to keep himself under control, before slowly settling themselves so that the tip of his dick brushes against their hole. They steady themselves with a hand to his chest, taking a deep breath before they start to sink down. Ifrit’s chest heaves, a shuddering groan filling the air when he slips inside. 

Zephyr takes a moment to breathe when they’re fully seat, willing themselves to focus more on the full feeling of Ifrit instead of the ache in their knees. Ifrit’s legs come up on instinct, muscular thighs supporting their back as they slowly sit up and sink back down. He fights to not fuck up into them. It’s so hard for him to focus on anything with that tight hole clenching around his cock with every downward stroke. 

Zephyr can see that fight in his eyes and they make it so much worse. Their hands roam and squeeze at his chest. Sharp talons circle a pierced nipple and Zephyr’s stomach swoops at the pleading look at Ifrit’s face, silently begging them to not do it. They watch his face intently when they pinch his nipple between thumb and forefinger. Ifrit loses the fight, hips arching off the bed to drill his cock deeper into them. 

“Fuck Frit just like that keep doing that” they fall forward, wrapping their arms around his shoulders and burying their face in his neck. 

He digs his claws into the mattress, arms encircling them to hold them close. He ruts up into them with the same force. 

“Feels so good birdie shit” he presses a kiss between their horns before his head falls back against the pillows with a moan. 

Zephyr pants heavily against his neck, taking in the spicy sweet scent of him. Their eyes are screwed shut, focusing on the feeling of that dick piercing dragging deliciously against their prostate. 

It doesn’t last long though. Maybe their legs had been bunched up for too long. Maybe it was the awkward angle they were laying in. Maybe it was something else entirely, something they didn’t even realize was wrong. Whatever it was, something in their body popped and a flare of pain zapped through them. They yelp, hissing through their teeth. Ifrit stops immediately. 

“Zeph what’s wrong?” 

For a moment Zephyr curses him for always being so perceptive, knowing what each of their little noises mean. But then those warm hands are rubbing their back and asking them what’s wrong again in a softer tone. They couldn’t be more grateful for him. 

“Something popped.” 

“Is it like that time your back popped and you—“

“No” they shout, interrupting him before they have to relive that particular memory “no this hurts.” 

He cranes his neck to be able to look at them, gently rubbing the back of their neck until they lift their head to meet his gaze. They could be sick from those sweet orange eyes. 

“Do you need to stop?” He asked softly. 

“No. No, I want to keep going.”

“If you’re positive.” 

“Yeah just…lay me down. I think it's somewhere in my legs.” 

Ifrit gives them a chaste kiss before pulling them off of him as gently as he can. Zephyr shudders at the loss. Ifrit lays them down, reaching behind them to grab one of their many pillows. He carefully lifts their hips which earns him a hiss from Zephyr before placing the pillow down. Once they’re completely settled against all of the soft bedding, Ifirt slots himself between their legs. He lets his fire bleed to his hands, gently rubbing them across their hips and down their thighs. 

Zephyr groans just from the relief, earning an affectionate chuckle from Ifrit. He pulls his knees together, pulling them slightly onto his lap. He rubs soothing little circles into their hips as he pushes back into them. He starts slow, testing the waters by pulling all the way out and sinking right back down. He keeps the languid pace until Zephyr pulls him in by the back of his neck. 

“Faster” they demand “harder.” 

“Whatever you want birdie” he pants. 

He thrusts into them with a snap of his hips. It’s nowhere close to the pace he had before, but it’s steady enough to have soft sighs and grunts spilling from Zephyr’s mouth. They keep their arms wrapped around his shoulders. Ifrit thinks they’re beautiful like this. When that pinch of pain between their brows is gone and they look so relaxed. He watches their face screw up in pleasure every time he buries his cock into them. 

“Fuck you’re gorgeous.” 

Ifrit groans when they clench down hard on him in response. He pulls back just enough to get a good look at them and his stomach swoops. They’re looking up at him with those piercing yellow eyes, half lidded and clearly studying him. Their white hair is fanned out around them like wisps of cloud on a bright blue day. When Ifrit bumps against that delicious spot inside of them the feathers on their neck ruffle. Fuck they’re so beautiful. He can’t fucking stand it. He bends back down to capture them in a kiss, hips grinding against their ass. 

“Fuck I fucking love you” he groans into their mouth. 

Zephyr’s grip tightens, making sure he stays close “I love you too. My wildfire. My light. My Ifrit.” 

They nip his bottom lip and he loses it. He thrusts into them one more time before spilling deep inside of them. He grinds his hips, fucking his cum as deep as it’ll go. 

“You’re so good to me” Zephyr coos, petting through sweaty red hair. 

Ifrit only takes a moment to catch his breath before snaking his hand in between their bodies to wrap around Zephyr’s cock. He feels it kick in his hand at the contact and he knows how close they are. He strokes them, squeezing around the head with each pass of his fist. He kisses along their jaw, a litany of adoration following each press of lips to skin. It doesn’t take much more until they’re cumming hard, dripping down Ifrit’s fingers as he pulls every last drop from them. 

He lets go of their cock and he feels the shuddering stop. He brings his hand up, waiting until Zephyr opens their eyes again so they can watch as he sucks their cum off of each finger. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” 

Ifrit chuckles and noses against their temple “and I’ll be right behind you all the way back to Hell.”

“Oh how sweet my murderer is going to stalk me in the afterlife” they roll their eyes, but the smile never leaves their lips “will I ever be rid of you?” 

“Never” he rolls over, pulling them in to lay against his chest. 

Zephyr buries their face against his sweaty skin to hide the deep blue blush on their face “Good.” 

They lay like that together until they fall asleep. Ifrit keeps his temperature up for them even as he lies unconscious. Even deep within his dreams, Ifrit will take care of Zephyr. He’d never let them go a day in pain if he could help it. He would always fall into Zephyr, all they had to do was say the word. 

have some copia face studies!!

Dewther tattoos and constellations 🤷🏻‍♀️

This was sitting in my drafts for 5000 years so I'm just chucking it out into the light of day.

Aether shakes his head with a small smile as he walks quietly down the hall towards Dew's room after finishing up in the infirmary. He's tired but not the bone deep heavy kind, something light and soft dancing against his eyelids, weighing them slowly. The promise of Dew's warm body and soft bed are the only thing keeping him fully awake.

He laughs quietly when he thinks back to Aeon's shocked but pleased expression when he finally caught a glimpse, how he'd snapped his fingers and grabbed hold of Aether's shirt, tugging it down a little further for a better look.

"I knew it! I knew you had one!"

"It wasn't really a secret." It was just usually hidden behind thick hair but that didn't matter, he knew it was there and more importantly, Dew knew it was there.

Aeon's big hazy purple eyes had studied it, head cocked just slightly. "Hydra?"

"I'll tell you about it another day." He pressed a kiss to his lips softly. "Have a good shift."

He tiptoes into the room and his breath catches the way it always does when he sees Dew asleep, curled up with his hair fanned out on the pillow, face pressed into one of Aether's discarded t-shirts as he sleeps without him.

He's soft like this, a sweetness Aether has never been able to find strong enough words for. Walls down and vulnerable, and Aether would dare anything to try to get through him to touch Dewdrop.

He lets the tips of his fingers kiss Dew's cheek, brushing back his hair with the whisper of a touch so he doesn't wake but some part of him still knowing Aether is there. His lips part over a tiny breath, turning a fraction into the touch.

It's a struggle to get his feet moving to the bathroom, needing to shower before he slots in beside Dew but he just wants to crawl up beside him, wrap him up in his arms and bury his face in his hair, breathing in the scent that he knows by heart.

The water is hot as he can stand it, groaning as it eases tension away and carries it down the drain. His fingers linger on his chest as he washes himself, pressing against where the ink had entered and left a permanent declaration that Dew always had been and always would he his.

He dries off quick, foregoing clothes, wanting nothing between himself and Dew, knowing that under the blanket Dew lays bare waiting for him.

He slips softly like fog under the covers, getting his arms around Dew when he moves instinctively closer in his sleep, a little star knowing its orbit without question. Aether smiles when his hand comes to rest on his chest, fingers pressed against the tattoo Aeon had been so excited to finally catch a glimpse of. Dew touches it like a pulse when he needs a reminder.

His mind drifts back once Dew's securely in his arms where he belongs, Aether's lips pressed against his hair. He remembers the night he was summoned like it was yesterday, a chilly rainy night but he'd looked up at the sky on his way to the chapel, mostly out of habit but he'd paused when he saw just how vivid Hydra was that night despite the rain.

It struck him odd until the little water ghoul was pulled into the circle, dripping wet and shaking, Aether's eyes the first he found.

It was like a tidal wave slamming into him and he knew in that moment that that little water ghoul was his.

Hed draped a blanket around him and lifted him to his feet, keeping his arms around him to keep him warm, safe, quietly staking a claim before he even fully realized it himself.

When he gave his name Aether's knees shook, he never knew a single word could feel like home but his name did.

He didn't hesitate to run to Omega later, to have him mark his skin with the stars that brought Dew to him, etched into his skin, promising forever before even ever really talking to him. Even if Dew didn't ever feel the same, Aether always would and that was enough.

Over time Dew did love him, fell into his arms and stayed, confessed feelings he didn't really understand right away but desperately wanted to share regardless. Aether marked a constellation behind Dews ear, the one he saw when he first told Aether he loved him.

When Dew gave up his water Aether stayed for each painful, breathless second, sobbing as Dew screamed himself mute, choking on flames and smoke and ash as the fire made a home in his veins, making a dessert where there had once been a softly flowing river.

He stayed and he waited, guts twisting and his heart too scared to beat as Dews stuttered and struggled behind his ribs. When they moved him to the recovery room Aether was sure this was it, this was goodbye, a tragically short lived forever.

His eyes had turned to the window, so dark it didn't feel like night, felt more like the caverns in the pit, endlessly inky, winding nightmares.

But then he saw it. Dew's stars were still there, brighter than they should be and he knew it wasn't over.

And his heart kept beating.

Aether blinks himself back into the present, feels Dews fingers on the tattoo and his steady breaths across his chest. He brushes his hair back to see the one he'd given Dew, Aquila tucked behind his ear, a secret just for them.

He kisses the top of his head, eyes turning to the window and glancing at the sky, smiling when Hydra once again fills the night, bright and beautiful.

Reminding him of forever.

Aww, I think I want one

anyone baby ghoul fever?

So I was right?

Alphas belt won't fit anymore.

Characters: Alpha, Omega Word count: 687

Alpha looked into the mirror. His hair was still messy from sleep, and he wasn’t wearing shoes yet. The black button-up he was wearing wasn’t hanging as loosely as it used to. Don’t get him wrong, his shirts always fit him perfectly, but now it was actually wrapping around his skin, making it impossible to hide anything. His small love handles were exposed to everyone, and the tummy he grew was pressing against the fabric.

But there was a simple problem: his trousers. Or, more likely, the button he couldn’t close without fearing it might pop at some point. So he opened it again and breathed out in a relaxed manner; comfortable was something different.

The next problem emerged when he tried to find a belt. He replayed the moment when Omega told him to buy belts that were a little longer and not already on the last hole when wearing them. That was a year ago, and now his stupid decision backfired in the most obvious way. He had the feeling that Terzo wouldn’t be too fond of him showing up at the meeting with open trousers. No matter that they were retired, he and Omega were ordered to be at the meeting, and not a single ghoul wanted to wear their uniforms in summer, so he had to wear something else that was formal enough.

So there was only one option… admitting that the quint had been right and asking him for a belt. Hopefully, he was in his room; otherwise, Alpha would simply borrow a belt from his closet.

“Megs?” Without knocking, the tall ghoul entered the other's room. And lucky for him, Omega was just finishing tying his shoes.

“Hmm?” he made, and looked up. “What is it?”

“It’s not by chance that you have a belt for me?” Alpha asked, closing the door behind him.

Omega grinned knowingly, tilting his head to the side.

“So I was right? Never would have guessed,” he told him, the irony sharp in his voice.

“Save the jokes, you fucker,” the fire ghoul answered. “We only have fifteen minutes left, will you just give me a belt? Please?”

The quint stood up from his bed and walked over to Alpha, giving him a mocking chuckle.

“You know… With that attitude of yours, I don’t think I want to give you one of my belts,” he sighed dramatically and shrugged.

The guitarist rolled his eyes and took a step closer to Omega, who took the opportunity to lay his hands on Alpha’s sides, squeezing them. He loved those love handles and the way the other tensed under the unexpected touch.

“But I’ll be nice and give you one,” the quint then said and turned to grab one out of his drawer. “Under the condition that you admit I was right.”

If looks could kill, Omega would be dead.

“You were right,” Alpha mumbled, barely understandable.

“What was that?” he asked, even though he understood.

“You son of a-” the tall ghoul snorted, “You were right!”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Omega laughed and walked back to the fire ghoul, motioning him to raise his arms a bit. He began to put the belt on the other and pulled him closer by the waist after buckling it. The grin was still on his face, and the big ghoul knew that Alpha wasn’t as mad as he pretended to be, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“We’re gonna buy you bigger clothes tomorrow,” he told his pack mate, his hand finding its way to his tummy automatically.

“You have a weird obsession with my tummy, you know?” Alpha pointed out.

He earned himself another shrug and an agreeing sound: “Can you blame me? I don’t think so.”

Now the tall ghoul really let out a laugh, his right hand squeezing Omega’s butt and then coming to rest on his lower back.

“I wasn’t complaining,” he answered, his voice lower than before.

And when they arrived a few minutes too late to the meeting, there was a suspicious dark spot on Omega’s neck and Alpha’s face was deeply red. ______________________

I have no idea what this is tbh but i tried and this is the best i could come up with

let me tag you here @aweisz

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

Mushy may prompt list by the wonderful @forlorn-crows

Divider by the lovely @ghuleh-recs

(also if you haven't checked out @autumnblooms art, you should! Their Phantom/Aeon/bug is always the way I picture him in my head 🖤🖤🖤)

Day 15: painting on each other. Swiss/Aeon

Swiss sits back, glancing down at the bare expanse of Aeon's back. He's settled across the back of his thighs, the Quint stripped down to nothing, the warm spring sun peeking through the curtains, wanting a chance to taste the nighttime sky for himself.

Swiss dips his finger into the gold paint beside him, shifting his hips to reach the base of Aeon's neck, the little starburst mark that trickles down into galaxies. Swiss knows them all, has traced every single inch of him, had tasted each one.

He watches Aeon smile when he touches him, when he paints down along his spine, leaving the knobby path to the side, to trail over a light patch, to add color, his color, to Aeon's body.

Swiss bites his lip when he thinks about it, how he likes to believe Lucifer left spots blank on Aeon simply so Swiss could fill the space, so he could blend into him, to mark him as his, a claim so beautiful it belonged in a museum.

He traces his lightning, the electric storm that surges through his veins, decorates the midnight sky of Aeons back, bolts of lightning to bring out the starlight freckles. He weaves delicate trails like his smoke, little wisps to curl around and connect the constellations.

Aeon glances back over his shoulder, a little smirk pulling at his lips. "I'm chilly."

He knows he's not, knows he's burning hot but he's hungry for touch and Swiss would never deny a request from Aeon's lips. He presses forward, plants his chest against Aeon's back, the still wet paint smearing between them, two canvases making one masterpiece.

"Better?" He kisses his shoulder, tastes gold paint and lightning and starlight and Aeon.

He wiggles until Swiss let's him turn over, until they are chest to chest, neither caring about the paint on the sheets. It doesn't matter when Aeon can feel Swiss' heart against his, when he can feel each breath add a little more color to his skin. He glances down, looks along the line of the bodies pressed together, the way the paint looks on him versus how it looks on Swiss.

Colors, their colors, blended and beautiful, swirling together like the knots that weave their souls.

He smiles and kisses him, watches color flood Swiss cheeks, watches the gold of his eyes fill with fire.

"I am now."

New hc just dropped: Kevin summons all the ghouls

Come morning, yet still, one brother searched for the other in vain and all the while the thread of the spider stretched thinner and thinner.

Spider's Thread

(Pssst, hey- truth or dare)

Mushy May Day 7: First Kiss

Weeks of Mountain and Rain dancing around each other come to a head.

Much thanks to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and to @ghuleh-recs for making the dividers <3

He/they pronouns for Rain

They dance around each other for weeks. Mountain still reeling from the sudden, bone deep rift that came with the death of the Papa that summoned him, the forced retirement of the majority of his pack, and Rain still learning how to exist outside of the Pits.

It doesn't stop them from starting to gravitate towards each other. They are both part of the rhythm section, after all. They share glances through silver masks, sapphire to emerald, while Copia instructs the other ghouls. They pretend it isn't happening, but after a while, it's completely undeniable. Of course, they don't talk about it, but it is happening, there's something there and Mountain's not certain what it is.

Aether clings to Dew after it all, having already been clingy before everything had Happened. Mountain doesn't blame him, not at all, but it means that he's alone for the first time since the Pit.

The water ghoul approaches him after one practice, the tour looming ahead of them. His bass is held in nervous fingers as he wanders back towards Mountain's kit on its riser, Copia and the other ghouls filtering out of the practice room.

"I'm-" Rain starts, swallowing hard; Mountain sees the way their throat works. "I'm having trouble with Pinnacle. Could we run it? Me and you?"

Mountain freezes, halfway through packing up his sticks. He wasn't certain what they were going to say, but this wasn't exactly it. He turns to the water ghoul, his eyes wide. "Of course," he says, feeling his cheeks start to heat against the metal covering his face. "What part's givin' you trouble?"

"The section after the first chorus is... Difficult," Rain says, tone a little strange, but Mountain pays it no mind. His attention is drawn to the way Rain scuffs his shoe against the practice room floor.

Mountain opens his mouth to speak, ready to point Rain in Dewdrop's direction, knows that Dew knows the Pinnacle bassline front and back, but shuts his mouth. He glances around at the otherwise empty practice room before taking his mask off, setting down beside his kit. His glamour fades slightly, rolling his neck to ease the crick in his spine as he sheds some of the magick.

He looks at them, earnest and happy to help. He settles back onto his stool. "Start from the chorus, alright? We'll work through it."

Rain nods, awkwardly taking his own mask and setting it on a storage crate. He sets his hands on the frets, long, elegant fingers hidden behind a pale human glamour. It fades, revealing powder-blue skin. Rain takes a deep breath, eyes locked on Mountain's, and they start.

Mountain helps them work through Pinnacle the best he can. He's never considered himself a great teacher, but he has played this song in front of thousands of screaming humans, what feels like hundreds of times.

They're not in front of anyone now, just each other. And Mountain wouldn't call Rain shy. He's seen the glint in their eyes, the sharp snap of teeth. He's not shy, they're just new. Mountain remembers being new as he watches Rain work his way through the bridge.

As they both play, Mountain comes to a sudden realization: Rain knows this part. They know it. He's not sure if it's a confidence thing that made them come to him, or something else, but Rain wanted to play it with him. He looks at them as they start to lose themself in the music.

It's just them, two thirds of the rhythm section. This feels right. Mountain feels the kick drum in his chest in a way he hasn't felt in a very long time. Or that's just his heart. He doesn't know, and he doesn't really care.

Eventually they stop, Rain's chest heaving as he takes a deep breath. "Thank you, Mountain."

He smiles, genuine and warm. "You're doing excellent, tadpole."

Rain's cheeks flush, an almost dusky violet. It makes tiny, silvers freckles stand out on their skin, almost iridescent where they're splattered over their cheeks and the curved bridge of their nose. "Thank you," he says again.

Rain wanders closer, bass set reverently in its stand. His eyes, wide and shark-like, focus on Mountain.

The earth ghoul stands to his full height, steps out from behind his kit, down the riser. He tries his best not to loom.

Rain gets closer still, drawn like an orbiting star. Mountain reaches out, cupping a big hand against their face, watching teal gills flutter against his throat. He tilts his head, watching the way Rain leans into the touch.

"May I kiss you?" Mountain blurts out, cheeks flushing a dark olive.

Rain's eyes go wide like saucers, mouth opening and closing like, well, a fish. "Yes," they say, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Mountain fights every urge he has to just take, leaning down gently as he tips their face up, capturing their lips with his. Rain tastes like salt, the sea on a sunny summer day, and Mountain knows within an instant of the contact that he's going to be chasing that taste the moment they pull away.

They break, and Mountain barely has a moment to catch his breath before Rain's surging up, lithe fingers curled around his suspenders and pulling.

Rain's new. They're hungry, sharp, serrated teeth nipping at Mountain's bottom lip. The earth ghoul groans like the wind's been knocked out of him. It certainly feels like it. He grins into the kiss and pulls them closer.