Just Something I Started Before My Break And Finished While Dealing With My Feelings.

Anything Swissalps please!!

Rubs my grimey little hands together

(obligatory tag for @hypnoneghoul !)

Mountain doesn't really like the caterpillars and worms on his plants in the room, but knows they're very much needed. He's started to get used to them more bc Swiss names them and it's kinda their thing.

"Martin is fuckin' chowing down on this vera right now..."

"I thought Martin eats the peonies?"

"No that's his twin brother Jake."

"Oh.."

Speaking of the plants!!! Swiss is VERY accustomed to them. His stand in Mountain when they aren't there. Always super reactive and love Swiss so so so much. They love holding him, helping him with tasks in the room, and just making sure he's okay. Swiss used them for... Self pleasuring reasons and literally only a minute in before Mountain stumbled in with the biggest hard on ever. He then learned that day that, yes, Mountain can feel and know everything the vines are doing/receiving.

Mountain who courts Swiss with wreaths and bones, flowers delicately picked and meaningful, and even down to foraging for him. Swiss who doesn't know how to court besides quintessence, but it just doesn't feel right. So he does what he does best!! Makes a song for Mountain!! It's kinda an air/water thing, but it's so specifically him that it doesn't really need an elemental label.

I'm sharing part of my hibernation Mountain propaganda and y'all are dealing with it. Mountain is GONE during the winter and Swiss is his hibernation mate even tho he doesn't really sleep like Mounty does. Lottt of grooming, breeding, and feeding as Mountain is running purely on instincts and can't really form coherent thoughts outside of those instincts. He just knows "my mate needs to eat." "my mate doesn't smell like me and I need to fix that internally and externally." Swiss doesn't mind it as he's still able to get up and move around, sometimes leave the room for quick trips to the kitchen and back. Swiss usually curls up on Mountain's torso and he's held sooo tenderly by this big furry beast. He LOVES it.

Mountain wears glasses but he loses them a LOT. Swiss always has an extra pair on him just in case which has come in handy multiple times. Swiss always demands them back once Mountain is done using them. "I'm not letting you lose the only backup pair you have, dork."

Big boy is embarrassed about wanting to be topped, but ohhh Swiss knows. He knows. Loves putting Mountain in the most submissive positions like doggy, missionary, or a mating press, but fuck does Mountain love it. He loves feeling smaller for once, loves watching his yin on top of him just whispering the most embarrassing things you could ever think of.

I've talked about Mistress Judas a few times, Swiss' bdsm persona, but... With Mountain? Ohh at her feet for anything she says. She makes him feel stupid. Weak. Lower. Small. It's what he wants and needs, and she's more than happy to provide. Big on breath play, boot play, and her whip. Best aftercare in the world, and Mountain wouldn't have it any different as he's massaged and given such tender kisses, words, and affections.

Mountain who sees Swiss as his art form—as art itself. As yin and yang. As everything right in the world. Something something, he's so dumb in love he can't think and just writes all of his love frustration on paper and hands it to Swiss who keeps them safe in a folder he reads through a lot.

Something something they're so in love it's sickening.

The most powerful ghoul!! ;3

Definitely need more Cowbell

little bit of AlphaBell~

Pressing Matters

Marge the Cleaning Lady tells the others what she saw.

(Part of the Light a Candle 'verse)

It was too crowded, too noisy, and too smoky for his taste. He couldn’t even remember why he agreed to this in the first place, especially since there were more pressing matters on his mind at the moment. Oh, right, band obligations and all that. The ever-present fans. Granted, it is not nearly as crazy as it was back in the heyday, but still, the ever-pressing crush of the devoted was enough to wear thin on the patience of even the most unflappable. Sometimes he would like to just be able to walk into a bar and order a pint and be able to enjoy it in peace. ‘Yeah right,’ he thought to himself, ‘those days are long gone.’

Scanning the room as he raised the glass to his lips, he only half listened to the conversation droning on around him. There. There she was. She pushed a long strand of chestnut hair behind her ear as she leaned in to better hear the conversation of the person with her. Whatever they were talking about must have been amusing for a smile lit up her features. Taking another drink, he continued to watch the woman.

Emma had the distinct feeling of being watched, even in the crowded room. She finished up her conversation with the keyboard player and moved off. She could still feel his eyes on her as she made her way to the bar. She leaned back against the bar, sipping on the glass of wine she had ordered. He was still watching her. His dark brown eyes never left her face even as he raised his glass to his lips. The ring on his finger caught her attention and a wicked smile broke across her face.

Roger had just raised his glass to his lips when the woman across the room said something to him.

“I’m not wearing any underclothes,” silently she mouthed to him from across the room.

Emma knew actually what she was doing. She knew that years behind the drum kit had allowed him to read her lips and to ‘hear’ her as if she was standing next to him. She raised an eyebrow and waited for his response.

Roger choked on the drink he just took.

“Hey, man! You alright?” John asked as he pounded Roger on the back in an attempt to help his friend.

“I’d be better if you would stop beating on me,” he replied. “Excuse me. I have something to attend to.”

“Yeah, sure man. Whatever.” The words were said to Roger’s retreating back. John just shook his head and turned back to the conversation at hand.

He met her halfway across the room.

“You are a very naughty girl.”

“Do you really care?” She asked as she leaned in, her lips against his ear. “How long do you think it would be before they noticed we were missing?” She whispered before he felt the pointed tip of her tongue delicately tracing the outline of his ear.

Roger pulled back and searched her face. He was surprised at this turn of events for Emma was not one really big on public displays.

“Well, how long?” She asked again.

He looked at her, a smile crossing his face.

“Long enough,” he replied, taking her hand and leading her from the bar. He didn’t even acknowledge Simon when the other man tried to gain their attention.

“Wonder where they are in a rush to.”

“Simon leave them be. They are still newlywed. You remember what that was like, don’t you?”

“Oh, yeah baby,” Simon answered his wife, his eyes glazing over at the thought.

**~~**

The taxi ride back to the hotel was the longest one in Roger’s life. It was all he could do to keep from throwing her down on the seat and having his way with her. ‘Be a hell of a show for the cab driver,’ he thought as his hand slowly inched its way up her leg. He was determined to see if what she had said at the bar was true or not. He leaned in and she felt his feathery kisses along her collarbone.

“Stop,” she moaned as his calloused fingers blazed a trail toward her center. “Roger, stop.” She gasped as she felt his warm tongue on her neck.

“Why?”

“We do have an audience,” she said breathlessly, motioning towards the cab driver.

“What?”

“Cab driver.”

Roger’s head popped up from where he had been tracing his initials on the soft skin of her neck. “Damn, forgot about him for a moment.”

Roger caught the gaze of the cabbie in the rearview mirror. It was clear by the smirk on the driver’s face that he had not missed much of what had been going on in the back seat of his ride.

The couple was saved from any further embarrassment as they finally reached their destination. Roger thrust a handful of bills at the cabbie, not caring that he had just paid the man what equaled to several fares. The driver counted the money as the couple raced up the steps to the hotel and shook his head as they disappeared through the revolving doors.

“Ah, to be in love,” he said as he put the yellow car into drive and merged back into the oncoming traffic.

**~~**

Marge had worked for the hotel for well over forty years and had thought she had seen it all. That was until she rounded the corner on the sixteenth floor. There, against the doorway to one of the rooms was a couple so tightly pressed together that one could not tell who was who. The man looked old enough to know better and the woman looked young enough not to care. As she cleared her throat, the man dropped the woman’s leg he had been holding against him. The woman only squeaked out “Roger!” as she hid her flaming face against the lapel of the man’s jacket, and he had the audacity to grin at Marge as he reached around his companion and unlocked the door. The door shut with a quiet click, blocking the two lovers from further prying eyes.

“Why, I’ve never seen such,” the housekeeper recounted to her friends around the break room table. “And to top it off…as I passed that room, there was a thump against the door and I could hear giggles coming from the other side of that door. Shameless, I tell you.”

Marge’s co-workers could only gossip over their coffee and cigarettes. At least this job was never boring…

Could I request some cg Terzo and little dew? I just read the meeting fic one (randomly scrolled through the chapters on ao3 and that’s what I picked) and AUGH cg Terzo and little dew are the best

Hope you’re doing well tiny 💙

I hope this is ok!

Cw: mountain gets frustrated, very short mention of an upset Dew

Mountain tips his head back and bites his lip against the frustration. He normally has endless patience, able to deal with anything and everything tossed his way but not today. Today he's got way too much to do and Dew wouldn't let anyone else take him. That was fine, Mountain had worked while he wore Dew in his sling countless times.

But Dew didn't want to be in the sling, fussing and tugging at it with his little hands and tears in his eyes begging to be set down so he could walk and explore. But Mountain wasn't going to be able to watch him and get stuff done at the same time and Dew was just getting more and more upset.

“Dew please! Stop!” He didn't really raise his voice but he spoke firmly and immediately regretted it. It wasn't the baby's fault that today just wasn't great. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry Dew I just-”

But he was already crying, big fat tears on his cheeks, his lower lip wobbling. Mountain felt awful and was ready to just give up on his chores to make it up to Dewdrop when Terzo wandered by, sipping a coffee and looking at the yule decorations that had been put up so far.

“Zo….”

He sounds so sad and Mountain frowns. He knows the baby will forgive him and he'll make it up to him but he still feels awful.

“Terzo.” Mountain greets him, walking slowly up to him with Dew held up against his chest.

“Oh hello!” He smiles, reaching out to take Dew's hand.

“Zo p’ease!” He leans forward, reaching out as much as he can.

“You busy? I have so much to do and I just can't keep an eye on him. He wants to walk around.”

“You want to come with me, amorino?”

“P’ease…”

Mountain unties the sling, gently handing him over to Terzo. He's bundled up nice and warm against the chilly air of early winter. Terzo sets him down, holding his little hand while he steadies himself on his feet.

“You sure you don't mind? I just…”

He touches Mountain's shoulder gently. “It's fine, go do what you need to do, I'll keep him entertained.” He smiles brightly down at the baby. “Can you say bye bye to Mount?”

He waves but doesn't say anything, too interested in the lights he can see from where they stand. He points to the lights as Mountain starts to wander off.

“Zo go p’ease!”

Terzo laughs and holds his hand tight as they start to make their way toward the pretty colored lights lining one of the main walking paths.

He stumbles occasionally, using Terzos hand to steady himself before continuing on, muttering an ‘uh oh’ each time. He babbles as they walk, and Terzo talks back, filling him in on all the latest gossip he's heard from the Sister's. Dew listens, at least Terzo pretends he does.

Dew gets more excited the closer they get, his babbles more erratic and high pitched and Terzo can't help but laugh.

When they pause at the walkway, Dew's eyes are huge, round and reflecting the lights.

“Pitty….” He whispers, taking it all in with his mouth hanging open.

“Molto bello!” (Very pretty)

Dew claps and plops down to sit right in the middle of the walkway, looking all over the place, pointing at the lights with a big smile.

“Boo!”

“There is blue. What other colors do you see?” Terzo sits on the gravel, folding his legs so Dew can sit on his lap to stay warm. He doesn't care about his nice clothes as long as the baby is happy.

“Geen! Red!” He points at one and looks back at Terzo for help.

“White. Bianco.”

He points up above them. “Dat?”

“Those are snowflakes. Aren't they pretty?”

“Mine!”

He laughs again, kissing the top of his head. Dew continues pointing at the lights, naming his colors and making Terzo do the same.

Eventually Mountain makes his way over to them and Dew reaches for him. Terzo watches the giants shoulders relax and he smiles, easing himself to the ground beside them. Dew crawls over to his lap, pointing at the lights.

“Look vati! Pitty!”

“They are very pretty.”

“Nofakes!”

He laughs. “I see the snowflakes, I think those are my favorite.”

Dew turns to look at him. “Vati mad…”

He sighs. “I'm sorry my love,I didn't mean to raise my voice. It was not your fault, vati just…was overwhelmed.”

Dew watches him for a long moment. “No mad.”

“I'm not mad. I promise.”

Terzo smiles at their conversation thinking about how far Dewdrop had come. The fact that he could communicate now was such a gift and Terzo was grateful for it every day.

“What do you say we go have some hot chocolate and a Yule story?”

Mountain smiles and nods and Dew claps, his cheeks getting red from the chilly air.

“Yum!”

Mountain carries him and Terzo holds one of his hands at his insistence. He babbles about the lights while Terzo makes the hot chocolate, adding extra marshmallows for Dew who giggles while he plays with one in his fingers. Mountain gets the fire started in the den and watches over the baby while Terzo goes to find a book.

They snuggle on the couch together under a blanket and Terzo reads until Mountain falls asleep against him.

Dew shushes him once he sees he's sleeping. “Vati ni ni.”

“He did go night night.” He kisses the top of Mountain's head and carefully moves out from behind him,taking Dew along with him. “Let's let him sleep.”

He carries him down to the library and grabs a stack of books to read to Dew. They settle on the couch and they read together as a gentle snow starts to fall outside the window.

Papa Emeritus IV and the Nameless Ghouls - Impera Language of Flowers Series

I started drawing these in January 2023, and since then we've added 2 new Ghouls! Swiss was the first one I made, and ending with Aurora - I think it's kinda fun to see my art progress over the length of a year like this

{Impera Era Flower Series | Prequelle Flower Ghouls}  More Artwork | Socials and Prints

Mushy May, Day 5 (Animals) - Menagerie of the Damned

Inspired by Mushy May prompts by the fab @forlorn-crows. I'm a day late with this one but I'm a good Satanist and never follow the rules anyway...Also on my Ao3!

If you've ever been told it's "just a pet", Papa Primo has your back!

***

He had been sitting forlornly on the hard, wooden bench since the meeting ended. He should move really. His ass had gone distinctly numb and such a public display of weakness wasn’t fitting for someone who was about to become the figurehead of the global Satanic Clergy. He knew he must look a sight, his face blotchy and as red as his scarlet cassock. And yet his grief kept him here, weighed down like a stone in the stream of busy people moving along the corridor.

“We must say goodbye and I do not think I know how to, little one,” Copiah sniffed, wiping away a stray tear with the end of his fascia and absently scratching between the ears of the nut-brown rat in his lap.

He knew Sister Imperator was right of course. The logistics of the tour would be complicated enough without having to factor in transporting Eliza with them; the hotels and tour buses they must use would see her as vermin, not as the beloved pet she was. And she was getting old, it wouldn’t really be fair on her.

The bench shifting next to him roused him from his musings, making him startle until he looked, bleary-eyed, into the kind face of his oldest brother, Primo.

“I never did care much for this hallway,” the retired Papa groaned as he stretched out his legs in front of him. “Too drafty. Which is probably not good for the little one, eh?” He held his hand out towards the rat, who cautiously climbed into his and regarded him with twitching whiskers.

“I don’t know that there is any place good for her anymore. I must find her a new home but…who will want her? She is not so young anymore…Who can I trust to take care of her?” Copia replied, attempting to disguise the way his voice cracked by clearing his throat. “Sorry, I…I am being silly.”

Primo nodded thoughtfully as he stroked the rat with a single finger. Eventually, he placed the creature on Copia’s shoulder and heaved himself to his feet with a huff. “I may have a solution. Come.”

The older man had started to head off down the corridor before Copia had a chance to ask a question or compose his tear-stained state. Sure, now he can be sprightly he grumbled to himself, struggling to catch him up down the corridor.

They walked through the endless, labyrinthine corridors until Primo led them out into the gardens, past the greenhouses where Copia assumed the man spent most of his retirement. He hadn’t seen this dark, tucked-away section of the grounds before though. When they reached a gate set into some tall hedges, he gave Eliza a fond pat to soothe himself as much as to reassure her, and finally interrupted his brother’s contented humming. It sounded suspiciously like All Things Bright and Beautiful. “Where are we going?”

Primo beamed as he opened the gate and waved for Copia to enter.

His eyes widened as he gazed at the scene before him. A huge circular space; a stunning meadow flower bed at the centre and outlined by ornate aviaries filled with plants and shrubs. The roof of each structure was the green hue of oxidised copper and reminded Copia of the gothic bandstands he’d seen in older parks. They even had the pre-requisite spooky ravens and crows scattered around their wrought gables. Some had open mesh walls while others were enclosed by glass or blacked out entirely.

“I do not know when this structure was first built. Probably back when collecting animals was fashionable. Humans have always sought animals – especially birds – a symbol of status. Of power,” Primo hummed as he started to walk a lazy circuit, stopping to peer in at the two barn owls perched in a distant corner of the first aviary. Copia placed a protective hand over Eliza, but the birds merely ruffled their feathers sleepily and resumed their daytime slumber. “I restored this place, but like our Abbey, I aimed to offer sanctuary to all who needed it. Especially those who’ve been harmed by our ridiculous superstitions.”  

“So, it’s like a menagerie of the damned?” Copia murmured, walking further along and taking in more owls, ravens and a raptor didn’t recognise. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he caught the amber gaze of a fox before it darted into the greenery.

His older brother chuckled. “You could say that I suppose. We leave the hatches open to allow the birds and bats to fly free. I think you’ll be more interested in what’s at the other end though,” he nodded for him to follow towards the enclosed area on the other side of the circle.

The balmy warmth hit them the moment the door opened. A Sister of Sin looked up and smiled, apparently in the middle of cleaning out a huge stack of cages where a dozen or so mice happily scampered about. “Sister Frances,” he nodded kindly.

After sitting subdued on his shoulder, Eliza suddenly perked up and began chittering loudly in Copia’s ear. He soon saw why. At the other side of the former aviary was a huge enclosure, filled with toys, scattered bedding and the curious faces of three other rats. “Oh!” he gasped, unable to resist moving towards them.

Sister Frances followed, opening the front and allowing the three of them to skitter up her arm, where they peered curiously at newcomers. “Cannoli, Cornetto and Confetti. Papa always did have a sweet tooth,” she grinned up at Primo before returning her attention to the rat on Copia’s shoulder. “And who is this?”

“A new resident, perhaps,” Primo said placing a hand on Copia’s other shoulder. “If you are happy for Eliza to come here, it would be our privilege to care for her. And you’re welcome to come and see her at any time.”

Copia’s momentary delight in the rats evaporated into the muggy heat of the small building and he felt his expression pinch again. His treacherous tears spilled down his cheeks before he could stop them. “Sorry,” he mumbled, averting his gaze away from Primo and the Sister. “You must think I’m a pathetic fool.”

“Of course not,” Sister Frances murmured kindly, holding out her arm for Eliza to climb up so she could sniff at the other rats. “It’s always hard to say goodbye.”

“Indeed, fratellino,” Primo sighed. “You think you are being silly but let me tell you…not so far away we have a space where we lay departed souls to rest and there are plenty of our animal friends there. Terzo’s cat, Morpheus for one. Even Secondo’s snake. He dug the grave himself. We are not Catholics; we do not deny our animal friends a soul. If you love another living being there is nothing trivial about that love, si?”

Copia nodded with a hiccup, watching as the Sister placed the rats in the enclosure. He managed a watery smile as the three of them showed Eliza around the toys and feeding stations, like little realtors bragging about a property’s granite countertops and fitted wardrobes. “She looks like she fits right in,” he mused.

“She does. She’s very welcome. And we will take excellent care of here, fratellino, I promise you.”

For the make 'em swoon prompts: a hug that gets deeper or "hi" *raspy voice* with Dewther maybe?

i saw this ask and went "both. both is good." I don't think I've had a fic jump out at me this quickly in a while. Hope you enjoy!

prompts from this list

divider by @ghuleh-recs

He thinks about coming home more than he'd like to admit. Even as he devotes himself to his work, the music, his unholy purpose, Dew imagines the moment he steps foot back into the Abbey more times than he can count.

He's fallen asleep to the fantasy countless times, the bus swaying like a cradle as the rest of his packmates sleep. It's hard. It's really fucking hard being halfway across the world without Aether. Dew's never had to be away from his side for more than a few days. It feels insurmountable, even with human technology that lets them call and text and talk.

It's hard to sleep in a bunk that feels too big. Too quiet. Too empty. He imagines stepping off of the bus, Aether there waiting in the double doors, Sunny peering over his shoulder while she waits for her girls, her multi.

Dew's the first one off of the bus, and because this is in his mind, there's no shame in the way he imagines dropping his bags, guitar be fucking damned, and sprinting up the gravel driveway. He barrels into Aether with enough force to make him take a few steps back, all of the breath leaving his lungs.

He'd be quick to wrap him up in his big arms, rearing back so just the tips of his boots touch the ground. "Oh, my darling," he would laugh, spinning them around like they're on the cover of some human pulp novel. Dew knows he would grumble at it, protest for Aether to put him back on the ground, he's not an air ghoul.

And Aether would squeeze him tighter before setting him down, that stupid fond look in his eye. Dew'd grab his collar and pull him down into a deep kiss to hide the way he'd be tearing up-

He takes a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling of his bunk, listening to the steady sound of Swiss's snoring. Dew silently wipes his face with the corner of his blanket, rolling onto his side and putting his back to the privacy curtain. He reaches up and pets at the crook of his neck, feeling the texture of scar tissue in the shape of his mate's teeth. His phone's in the cubby, and it's so fucking tempting. Taunting him. Aether's only a call away.

But it's mid morning back at the Abbey, and Aether's working. He'd stayed behind to help with an influx of infirmary work, taking time to rest after his entire time Up Top spent touring. And as much as Dew knows Aether would drop just about anything to talk to him, he'd rather not do that to his mate.

So, instead, he curls up around his pillow, burying his face in it in an attempt to breathe in Aether's scent, the pillowcase replaced with one of several shirts Dew had smuggled into his luggage. Thankfully for him and his packmates and techs, it's enough to lull him to sleep, his cheeks still damp with tears.

The tour drags on, as they always seem to do, and it's over in an instant, as they always do.

The next thing Dew knows he's on a plane back to Sweden, and he grumbles to himself that they always end the tours so far away from home. Eventually they make it back to solid ground. But it's not over yet.

There's a several hour long bus ride left, because the Abbey's in the middle of nowhere. Dew tries to sleep, exhausted and miserable and sore and so fucking close. Mountain sits next to him, guides his head down against his shoulder and hums, petting through his hair as he dozes.

It's late in the afternoon when the bus pulls into the long driveway, and Dew jolts awake as they cross the threshold into the Abbey proper. He's still a little disoriented, but he can feel the way the mate bond sparks back to life now that they're close enough that the magick can actually work the way it's meant to..

He can almost feel the way Aether rushes through the last of his paperwork, scrambling out of the infirmary to find Sunshine and run out to meet them. Dew's excited, he swears he is, but the exhaustion is bone deep and so fucking heavy. He gets to his feet slowly, swaying as he grabs his go-bag from the overhead. Some of the Abbey ghouls and Siblings will take care of unloading the bus itself.

Normally, when it comes to his luggage and his guitars, Dew's incredibly picky, preferring that he's the one who takes care of it. But he's just so tired, and so ready to be home, and so ready to be back with his mate that he can't bring himself to give a shit.

Dew stumbles off the bus, boots scuffing on the gravel. He looks up and he's there. Still in his scrubs, eyes shining even from across the courtyard. Aether smiles and the world is right again.

He's too tired to run, but Aether walks out and meets him halfway. The fountain in the center of the circle drive rushes, and Dew doesn't have the energy to barrel into him the way he imagined.

Aether steps in front of him, and Dew blinks blearily up at him. "Hi," he says, voice raspy from sleep. Aether just grins, big and wide enough to rival Swiss's. His gold tooth glints in the afternoon light.

"Hi, my darling," Aether says, his hands curling gently around Dew's biceps. "I missed you." He pulls him into a gentle hug. Dew's head spins as, after months of the fading scent on fabric, Aether's ozone-fresh air scent slams into him full force.

"Missed you too," Dew chokes out, not caring that the rest of the pack is watching as they file off of the bus. He grabs the front of Aether's scrubs, fingers curling into the fabric as he clings as tight as he can to his mate.

Aether nuzzles into Dew's hair, chuffing happily as he pulls Dew in tighter and tighter until he can barely breathe with it. He curls his tail around his mate's calf, and feels Aether's wrap around his waist. "I really fucking missed you, starshine," Dew whispers again, feeling the beat of his heart against his cheek.

Aether chuckles, hand solid and warm where it rests between Dew's shoulderblades. "Welcome home, my darling." He leans in, whispers so quietly Dew almost thinks he imagines it. "Your scent's just about gone from the hearth, Dew. Makes it so hard to sleep. Come home with me so we can make it right?"

Dew laughs so hard he cries. "Yeah, Aeth. Take me home."

Feel The Dew

Silly little thing based on a screenshot from @hypnoneghoul

Rating: M

Pairing: Mountain/Dew

Words: 648

Ao3

Dew is standing in the kitchen in the den fiddling with the grucifix zipper on his hoodie while he scrolls TikTok. There is a tray of dirty dishes he just carried down from his room on the counter in front of him and he really is going to wash them and put them away. It’s just, phone, you know? There are a few clips from their last tour circulating with various ridiculous captions and a surprising amount of edits. The thirsty ones are silly and most often way off the mark, but there are also several videos of people talking (and crying) about how their music and the rituals they perform are helping people. Papa and the ghouls are helping humans accept themselves and get through hard shit to have better lives. A guy with red teary eyes and a huge smile nestled in a thick beautiful beard tells the camera that when he feels low and needs to remember the beauty in the world he watches a clip of Dewdrop’s Respite On The Spitafields solo and it never ceases to make him cry with happiness. Dew quickly double taps the screen and comments three black hearts as the left corner of his mouth tugs upward and he can feel Lucifer’s approval in the warmth that floods his bones.

He cocks his hip and glances at the dishes before going back to his scrolling. He has his VPN set to Poland today and the ads have been something else. A new one fills his screen and he giggles as he takes a screenshot. He doesn’t particularly like the drink Mountain Dew but it is one of his absolute favourite brand names and the ads have been giving him endless joy. Siblings and ghouls alike will send him a picture anytime they see a bottle somewhere, and Phantom has been making him custom memes. Dew swipes over to his text conversation with Mountain and snickers as he sends him the screenshot. The big guy is gonna love this one. Mountain may seem like a mature and serious ghoul, but he is just as much of a little shit as Dew is.

Dew is dragging his tongue over a fang, letting the sharp tip of it catch right in the middle of the slit of the fork as he scrolls through the endless Mountain Dew memes in their chat. He barely manages to avoid biting himself as a huge hand wraps around his throat and another palms his entire crotch as he is pulled flush against a warm, soft body. Electricity dances down his spine and makes his gut clench as Mountain’s hot breath tickles his ear.

“Hmm, you want me to feel you, boy?”

Mountain strokes his thumb down the length of Dew’s neck, feeling his pulse increase with each stroke. He flexes slightly so the claw digs into soft flesh, dimpling the skin just so. Dew swallows thickly against Mountain’s palm only for the hand to squeeze a tiny bit tighter. 

Mountain curls his fingers towards Dew’s taint, cupping his rapidly hardening dick and balls through his soft lounge trousers. He rolls the balls between his fingers, feeling them move under the skin.

Dew’s lifts his tail and snakes it around Mountain’s middle. Mountain’s own tail comes up to coil around it and keep it in place as he shifts a thick thigh between Dew’s legs. 

“You want me to touch you? Feel you all over? Grope you a little in the kitchen for anyone to see?”

Dew whines and tries to simultaneously push into the hands wrapped around his throat and his genitals, while grinding his ass back and down on Mountain’s thigh. He gets a throaty chuckle and a wet tongue flicking his ear lobe in return.

“Yeah, you want your big, strong boyfriend to feel you up a little. Feel the Dew. Isn’t that cute?”