Save For Later - Blog Posts

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

going through a really bad bout of remembering trauma, thinking about swiss so overwhelmed with stress and not wanting to bother any of the ghouls, going to seek papa out for comfort. he doesnt shy away this time, takes a deep breath and ratters on the door to his office, papa giving him work to do and praises to get everything off his mind :,) hes not even little he just doesnt know how to cope properly or live with himself, sorry for the constant asks!!!! - 🗝

First I'm sorry this took so long to get to, but ...life did life things. Also, I didn't really follow the prompt because apparently Swiss had other ideas but I hope it's ok.

And most importantly, I hope you're doing alright 🩷🩷🩷

Cw: Swiss can't sleep, storms mentioned, Swiss climbing things he probably shouldn't be lol he's fine he doesn't get hurt but Copia isn't a fan!, middle Swiss (as usual I do refer to him as the little ghoul because they all get physically smaller but he's a middle I just remember there was a little confusion before 🩷), cg Copia

Sleep doesn't always come easy for Swiss, especially when he's dropped and had been on edge all day. It wasn't a bad day, but a storm was coming and he could feel it in his veins and it made him antsy. It was fine during the day when he was busy, he didn't really have time to focus on it, but now, laying alone in his bed it's all his mind can do.

He pushes himself up with a heavy sigh, he knows he's not going to be able to sleep any time soon and just laying there isn't going to help anything. He opens the window and shoves his head outside, he can smell the storm, it's closer but not quite here yet and he groans. If it just started he'd feel better.

He grabs a few of his comics and his blanket and heads down to the common room. It's hardly the first time he's done this and he usually wakes up tucked in with his head pillowed on someone's lap. He knows he could go wake someone up for company but he doesn't want to be a bother, especially with something that none of them can really help with.

It's usually completely silent when Swiss sneaks down like this, if anyone was still up they are usually in their rooms but he definitely hears something in the kitchen. It's not totally out of the realm of possibility that someone got thirsty or something...

When he peeks around the corner he expects to see Phantom, maybe Dew or Ifrit. He's definitely not expecting Copia.

He's in his sleep pants and an old band t-shirt and he's got glasses on but he just looks...tired.

"Papa?"

He jumps at Swiss' voice, turning with his hand over his heart. "Lucifer! You scared me Piccola tempesta!" (Little storm)

"Sorry...wasn't tryin to sneak up on you...whatcha doin?"

"Well I..." He drags his hand across the back of his neck. "I can't seem to get to sleep and I was hoping some of Mountain's tea would help but...I don't know where he keeps it."

Swiss sets his comics on the table and drapes his blanket on the back of one of the chairs.

"I can help, I know where it is. What kind do you want?"

"He gave me a lavender one the last time."

"Ok!" Swiss climbs up on the counter and Copia races to stand behind him, hands nervously fluttering around him in case the little ghoul slips.

"Please be careful!"

Swiss laughs a little. "I do this all the time! I like climbing. You know that big tree down by the greenhouse? I can get really high in there!"

Copia groans dramatically. "Do you want my heart to give out?"

Swiss giggles again and grabs the tea, lowering himself carefully before hopping off the counter.

"See? I'm a pro!"

"Yes, but I think I may have a few more grey hairs." He says it with a soft smile and starts getting the kettle ready to boil. He notes Swiss is fidgeting, eyes not staying on Copia. "What's the matter amore Mio?"

"Nothin....I just can't sleep..." He shrugs. "Just gonna read on the couch."

Copia hums. "Well, would you like some company? I can't sleep either, maybe you can tell me about your comics."

Swiss' eyes light up, bright gold like stars. "Really?"

"Why don't you put a little snack together and I can make you a hot chocolate."

Swiss chirps and bounces over to the pantry to grab out the crackers with cheese in the middle. He grabs a handful of marshmallows, some chocolate chips and heads to the fridge for some berries and cheese cubes.

Copia watches with a small smile, happy that the little ghoul feels a bit better.

They make their way to the couch after the drinks are done and Swiss scoots close, his back pressed to Copia's side while he starts talking about the comics he's currently reading. He listens intently, asking questions occasionally until the answers start getting more spaced out.

Copia peeks down at his face, his lashes fluttering as he struggles to keep his eyes open. He moves the snack off to the side, shushing the half hearted protests of the little ghoul still happily snuggled into his side.

"Just moving it to the table, you can still reach it if you want." His voice is soft and he adjusts the blanket over Swiss.

"Still....still wanna hear 'bout the next one?"

His voice is slurred with sleep and Copia struggles to not laugh at the jumbled words.

"If you'd like to tell me."

"Well it starts with..." His head lolls to the side as his words taper off, eyes closed as he drifts away to sleep.

Copia adjusts his head up against his shoulder so his neck won't be sore in the morning. He kisses the top of his head, tightening his arms around him when the first flash of lightning lights up the room, a low roll of thunder quickly following.

The little multi ghoul looks peaceful, his face relaxed as he sleeps against papa, breaths deep and even. Copia watches the storm through the big window, takes note of how Swiss relaxes just a little more with each flash and loud boom. It's fascinating and he's so grateful for each of his ghouls and how different they all are.

He rests his head back against the couch, allowing his eyes to shut so he can just listen to the storm and Swiss' breathing.

"Dormi bene, mia piccola tempesta." (Sleep well, my little storm.)

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.

Okay, the Carhartt coat thing. Here we go @autumnblooms , some soft squishy thoughts for you ft. Water Dew and Mountain.

Ft. some flower language.

Red roses meaning love and passion

Cyclamen meaning lasting feelings and sincere affection

Cocoa With Chili

Dew steps out of the Abbey doors and squints into the light. It's winter, and there's a crystalline quality in the way that the sun filters through the frost dancing in the air. Dew grips the mug in his hand closer to his chest, trying to absorb a bit of its warmth and hunching his shoulders forward into his coat. Ice crunches under his boots as he makes his way to the heavy wooden door across the courtyard that leads to outside the ancient stone walls.

Dew ducks under the dormant ivy and through the door, ears twitching at the sound of an axe ringing through the air. The smell of balsam reaches his nose and he smiles, tail swishing as he walks quicker towards the source of the sound and smell coming the edge of the forest.

As he draws closer to the treeline he sees Mountain with his back turned to him. The Earth giant is crouched close to the ground, clearing snow away from a great Spruce tree. Its magnificent, the ends of its branches sparkle with diamond-like drops of ice, frost coating the pinecones dangling off the tips of its boughs, sparkling with frost like a coating of glitter. It will be a beautiful Yule tree once Mountain brings it into the Great Hall of the Abbey.

Dew trills, and Mountain turns at the sudden noise, smiling broadly at the sight of the approaching Water ghoul. He pushes the hood of his Carhartt coat back from his head and straightens, approaching Dew.

"Hi, Droplet, whatcha got there?"

Dew withdraws the mug from his jacket, offering it to the taller ghoul, "I brought you some cocoa, prepared with spices and a tiny bit of chili, just the way you like it."

Mountain takes the covered mug from Dew's tiny hand, taking a sip. Warmth and comfort blooms in his stomach, and he purrs at the taste of the spiced chocolate, his favorite. He looks down at Dew, who's trying not to show that he's shivering now with the absence of the mug's warmth. Mountain sets the mug down on a nearby stump. He unzips his jacket, opening it in offering to the Water ghoul.

Dew chirps and leaps forward, wrapping his arms around Mountain's waist and burrowing his face into the Earth ghoul's solid chest. Mountain puts his hands in the pockets of his Carhartt coat and wraps the fleece and canvas around his partner. A purr kicks up in Dew's chest and Mountain chuckles as he squeezes the Water ghoul close to his body, a rumbling purr vibrating through his chest and into Dew's body.

"Your cocoa is gonna get cold," Dew mumbles from within the cocoon of canvas and fleece.

"It's okay, Water Lilly, you're the more important priority right now," Mountain laughs, squirming a bit as Dew rubs his nose into Mountain's underlayer.

After a short time, Dew emerges from Mountain's embrace. His face scrunches and he twitches his nose at the dusting of snow flitting down from the trees around them.

"Come sit and have some of that cocoa while I finish here. It shouldn't be too much longer," Mountain shucks off his coat, spreading it canvas side down on the stump for Dew to sit on, and places the steaming mug in his hand.

A few last good thwacks of the ax brings the Yule tree down to the ground. As Mountain sets the ax down and wipes his hands off on his work pants, he glances over his shoulder and his heart stops at the sight behind him. Dew had taken his Carhartt jacket off the stump and burrowed into it, the material dwarfing his tiny body and covering his legs down past his knees. His dainty hands peek from the gargantuan sleeves as he sips from the mug of spiced cocoa.

Dew watches Mountain approaching him, eyes slipping upward to the flowers that had bloomed at the base of Mountain's antlers in the the time it had taken him to cross the clearing to the Water ghoul enveloped in his massive coat.

Mountain reaches up, plucking a red rose and a Cyclamen from his antlers, offering them to Dew. He bends down and presses a soft kiss to the smaller ghoul's lips, conveying all his love and affection for his ghoul wrapped up nice and snug in his coat.

"I love you, Bug."

"I know."

Mushy May Day 31: Looking at/Taking Pictures

The fridge in the den kitchen tells a lot of stories.

Thank you so so so much to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together again this year, and to @ghuleh-recs for making us the dividers. Love you guys, cannot thank you enough. I had so much fun doing this again <3

Arguably, the kitchen is the central point in the entire ghoul den. It seems like someone's always there, cooking or cleaning or making a snack, coming in from the gardens or slipping out to have a smoke.

So naturally, it makes sense that the fridge is the pack corkboard. Magnets from just every stop the band's ever made cover the stainless steel, holding up shopping lists, reminders on bright colored sticky notes, a calendar, but most frequently, photos. Polaroids and glossy film and printed out on paper, the kitchen fridge is an amalgamation of the big moments and the little ones.

There's one right next to the freezer handle, a little blurry, out of focus. It shows the inside of the band tourbus, a soft purple blanket covering two sleeping forms. It's dark, but if you look close enough, you can make out Dew's spindly fingers, arm wrapped tight around Aeon's waist as he big spoons them. Rain had taken it, the first night they had shared a bunk, early into Aeon's first tour. It makes the little quint blush every time they see it, but the way their tail wags betrays any semblance of embarrassment.

There's one in the center of the fridge, a polaroid film, the flash bright and a little over exposed, two ghouls with their backs to the camera. Aurora is easily recognizable, her hot pink hair covering the bottom quarter of the image. Dew's in the background, sitting in Mountain's lap, a little out of focus as he throws up an As Above gesture. Rain's the star of the show though, his blue black waves pulled back into two French braids, decorated with clips and baubles and ribbons. Dew's hair is in a similar state. There's a caption written in Aether's blocky handwriting below it that reads "Playing Barbies."

A glossy 4 by 6 print is stuck to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a palm tree, from Cirrus's disposable camera. It's summertime at the Abbey, taken from the edge of the dock. Mist's perched on Alpha's shoulders, successfully shoving Dew from Swiss's shoulders in a game of chicken fight. She'd taken it at the perfect moment of realization, Dew's eyes wide in panic just as he tips backwards. They had all laughed when she had gotten the print developed, even as Dew grumbled. He couldn't hide the fond look on his face when it had been pinned up, though.

On the side of the fridge is a picture of Omega and Terzo, the big ghoul sprawled out in an armchair during one of the pack's frequent movie nights, Terzo practically in his lap, smudging paint against the side of Omega's neck. They both had passed out within the first half hour of a particularly loud action movie, much to the snickers of the pack.

There are several from the road, new scenery and places and tourist stops, a polaroid of Aurora proudly holding up a soft drink that's almost the size of her torso captioned "Baby's First Big Gulp." One of Aeon sticking their face through a cut out that makes them look like a video game character in some mall. Swiss giving Dew bunny ears while the fire ghoul takes a picture with Rain and Mountain. Cumulus floating on a blow up raft smuggled into a hotel pool. All three of the ghoulettes squeezed onto a greenroom couch in a way that cannot possibly be comfortable but they had sworn up and down that it was.

There are close to two dozen pictures with a similar set up, the entire band and crew all lined up on stage after the last show of a tour. The lineup changes and shifts, familiar faces running through several photographs, looking bone-deep exhausted but with grins on their faces, satisfied with a job well-done.

Aether approaches the fridge, a photo in hand, searching for an empty magnet. He finds one, chuckling as he grabs one shaped like a bat but in a hot pink plastic, pinning the picture front and center. It shows Aeon and Aurora, both ghouls grinning, wearing cheap plastic party hats, the elastic hooked under their chins. There's a cake on the table in front of them, a sparkler candle lit in the middle. There's words frosted on it, in red frosting in Mountain's loopy handwriting that proudly display "Happy First Summoning Day."

He sighs, smiling at the picture of his newest packmates, before his eyes drift up to a picture pinned to the top corner of the fridge. Aether always looks to it when he's in here, feels a warmth settle in his heart as he takes in the picture. He's memorized it, it will be seared into the back of his eyelids for the rest of his time Up Top and long after that.

It's him and Dew, standing at the front of the chapel, grasping each other's forearms as Copia wraps a multi colored cord around their wrists, the fondest smiles on each of their faces. The cord was a four stranded braid of ribbon, he remembers, purple and black and blue and orange. He remembers the warmth of Dew's hand on his arm, the glint of the gold jewelry in his ears, hair soft and falling over his shoulders, every inch the ghoul he had fallen in love with the moment he had arrived Up Top.

Aether smiles, running a finger along the edge of the photograph reverently, reaching up for the bunch of bananas on the top of the fridge, breaking one off and going to rejoin the pack with his snack.

Mushy May, day 9. Warming them up.

Rating: E

Pairing: Ifrit/Dewdrop

Words: 865

Summary: Dew knows true warmth for the first time, and he can't get enough. Neither can Ifrit. Or, Ifrit and Dew fuck for the first time post Dew's transition.

Thank you @forlorn-crows (the beloved) for doing this as always :)

Head dropping into the pillow, Ifrit knew he was inches away from unraveling and no amount of measured breathing would save him from that fact. 

He could have laughed at himself, should have cursed at himself, but all he managed was a shuddered sigh as the freshly made fire ghoul sank down the length of his cock. Slowly, with his skinny thighs trembling where they bracketed his hips. Dew was struggling just as much as he was. It was a familiar but impossible stretch, always was, but it was different this time. He was carving out a spot for Ifrit and Ifrit alone, giving himself and this elementally changed body to Ifrit. Dew had been set on it, on Ifrit being the first - on Ifrit always being his first. Having barged into his room, skin still steaming, smelling of incense and salt, he wasted no time. 

Ash certainly dirtied his sheets, still smeared on Dew's body and now on his own, but Ifrit couldn’t find the concern for linens within himself. Not when the embrace of Dew's walls were both molten and velvet, too snug around his poor cock to leave room for anything in his head. All he could focus on were the multiple, searing points of contact between them and the heat. 

He was used to the heat. A fire ghoul forged from an eternal flame within the endless pits of sulfur, Ifrit found home within hellfire but Dew was beyond it. Well past burning and Ifrit wanted to bear the scars of the blaze he was becoming. 

Literal sparks crackled around Dew's head like some strange halo when he abruptly forced himself down those last few torturous inches. Impatient as ever, a changing of element would never take that from him. It knocked the wind from both of them. 

His eyes nearly rolled up into his skull but he did all he could not to fold and admit to the coiling sensation in his belly. If he ignored the way his balls ached maybe he could hold out. 

Dew wasn't fairing much better, clearly. His mouth had fallen open in a silent cry, chin tucked to his chest, steadying himself against Ifrit's broad chest. The red in his cheeks practically glowed, a striking hue against pale cool-toned skin. He was burning up from the inside out, a flame trapped and flickering under his skin, and Ifrit didn't want to blink lest he miss a second of his lover or the fruit of this long awaited rebirth. The head of his cock was just as flushed. Angry and leaking profusely against Ifrit's stomach, a water ghoul trait his vessel stubbornly clung onto much to Dew's apparent chagrin.

Palms sliding up Dew's thighs, feeling the twitching muscle beneath the weight of his hands, it all felt too real. A day he'd been waiting for. Suspended in anticipation, counting down the seconds until Dew and him were alike at the deepest parts of their being. Made kindred flames at the behest of the morning star himself. 

Ifrit squeezed at his hips to bring Dew back to earth with him. They both deserved to exist wholly in this moment. His fingers nearly touched around his waist. 

“I'm here” Dew rasps. The first words he'd spoken since before he was whisked away by clergy members to a place Ifrit could not follow. The first words since he'd punctuated their temporary goodbye with a kiss too chaste to savor the meaning of. His voice was deeper or perhaps his vocal chords were stripped raw. 

“You're here.” Ifrit whispered, smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. It's big and a bit too goofy for the position they found themselves in but it makes Dew's heart flutter and his cock jump. They both notice the latter. “How does it feel?” 

Dew lifted his head, soot stained hair curtaining his face. Carefully placed shadows on his sharp features. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, not yet bruised but pinker than they'd ever been. Everything was new down to the very sensations. He struggled to find the words, clearly. Ifrit could see the tangled threads of thought behind those copper tinged eyes. 

“Hot.” The word practically dripped off his tongue, sighing out wisps of smoke as Ifrit tucked his hair behind his ear. He wanted to bottle it and save it. “Never felt this warm before,” his shoulders shook with a breathless laugh. “S'weird.” 

“Bad?” 

“Good, real good…Is it always like this?” 

“Oh firefly,” the pet name somehow makes Dew feel tighter around him and Ifrit was forced to admit defeat. He couldn't last like this. “You'll never feel cold again. Don't even need me to keep you warm anymore.” 

Something a little like panic, or even disappointment flickered in his eyes. “But - But you still will, right?” 

Ifrit pulled him down. Chest to chest where they could both feel the steady beating of their hearts falling in sync. The short lived tension in his body melts away. Evaporates like steam, unseen and forgotten immediately. He thinks Dew might have finally found a way to crawl under his skin and stay there with how he clung to him. 

“Always, droplet.” 

𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒚 30: 𝒃𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 / 𝒅𝒂𝒚 19: 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔

pairing(s): swiss/aeon words: 1314 notes: they/them aeon (cock/dick for their anatomy, only implied here). a present for dottie: happy birthday @coffeeghoulie 💙

Aeon looks around, nose leading his head in an almost bird-like manner as he takes in the state of the bedroom. There’s twenty or so candles of various sizes and burn stages placed around the room, the walls and furniture cast in a warm amber. All dark wax: navy blues, midnight blacks, and deep crimsons grouped together in trios of moody hues. A dying joint sits in the ashtray on the nightstand—it’s the only scent in the room aside from Swiss’ own. Something light, not too strong; pleasantly heady and herbal. 

“What’s with all the candles?” 

Swiss chuckles. He shuts the door behind them and loosely crosses his arms. “It’s called ‘setting the mood’,” he lilts.

They raise their eyebrows. “Hm.” Aeon looks him up and down, not-so-subtly lingering on his forearms. “You wanted to play with fire.”

“These things aren’t mutually exclusive, baby.” Swiss flashes his thousand-watt smile, and Aeon can’t help but roll their eyes and drift into him. They slip into his arms and wrap theirs around his waist. Leaning back their head into the cradle of Swiss’ hands when they come up to the back of their neck. 

Aeon hums. Smiles lazily. “I have something else you can play with,” they say softly, picking the hem of his t-shirt out of his jeans and slipping their hands underneath. They sway their hips a little too, just for good measure. Swiss rumbles, sultry. The quint ghoul runs their knobby fingers over the softness of his lower back, then slides one of their hands to his front. Palm flat against his stomach and drifting upwards. 

“Oh, I bet you do,” the multi ghoul says huskily. He grins, pulling Aeon in until their lips meet, half a kiss and half a shared, breathless laugh. 

Swiss’ mouth is warm, inviting—he always makes it too easy for them to open up immediately, tongues gliding out to greet the other in the space between their eager lips. Aeon tastes the weed lingering in his mouth. His natural mint and whiskey flavor. They never tire of it, no matter how many times they’ve tasted each other by now.

Swiss drops one hand to their waist instead, pulling them flush to his own body. Aeon groans approvingly and brings that hand on his tummy higher, higher. Fingers curling into his chest hair and thigh slotting between his legs.

The multi ghoul huffs. “Make me crazy, baby,” he breathes into their mouth. “So fuckin’ crazy.”

“Yeah?” Aeon teases. They trail kisses down his jawline, his neck. Hand dragging back down his torso until they’re palming the tent in Swiss’ jeans, earning them a hiss. “Gonna show me how crazy?” they mumble into his pulsepoint. 

“Fuck.” Swiss’ head dips back as he grinds into Aeon’s hand. They curl their fingers, pressing them deeper, groping him through the denim. His scent turns spicy and sweet all at once. Flooding their senses with nothing but a potent cloud of Swiss. They throb between their legs when his hands start to roam, chubbing up as he digs his those thick fingers into their waist, their back, petting over the nape of their neck and pawing at their ass. 

When the multi ghoul pulls them into a heated kiss, it’s Aeon’s turn to swear. “Shit—want you,” they pant. 

Swiss laughs breathlessly. “Didn’t even get to any romance yet.”

“Don’t have to—can have me however you want.”

The room spins.

The statement steals the breath from Swiss’ lungs, twisting it into a devastated groan. He grips Aeon tighter. Anchoring them both to the spot and resting their foreheads together. His heart’s pounding against his ribs, and he’s sure the quint can probably hear it—probably feel it against that skinny chest of theirs. 

“Baby,” he says slowly. His voice breaks with the surge of want that rushes up from his core, but it’s the nerves that he chokes on. Swiss swallows in poor effort to shove it all down. He cradles their cheeks in his hands, thumbs grazing over their cheekbones. Specks of ultraviolet in their otherwise charcoal gray eyes flash in the candlelight as they gaze up at him with parted lips and furrowed brow. Concerned despite the obvious arousal between them. 

“What?” 

Swiss takes a full breath. “Aeon,” he says softly. Their eyebrows raise a centimeter. “My beautiful bug.” They light up at the word ‘my’, chirping quietly. 

Lucifer, he can’t keep it in any longer. “I love you.”

Aeon’s eyes go wide. They stare at him for a painfully long moment, eyes flitting all over his face. Five, six, seven . . .The silence is maddening, but Swiss doesn’t dare break it by accidentally saying something stupid. Their fingers curl into his shirt a few seconds later and they force out: “Oh, the candles . . .”

He sighs, tension between his shoulders dissipating. “Yeah, the candles,” Swiss laughs. “Hopeless romantic, you know me. But ya kinda jumped me before I had the chance to be sappy.”

“Sorry,” they say, mouth scrunching to the side as they hold back a smile. “Could have stopped me.”

“Like hell I was gonna stop you.”

Aeon shrugs. “Fair.” But they smile big then, pulling Swiss into a hug. The multi ghoul wraps them up easily, resting his cheek against the top of their head. They smell like Dew’s shampoo and the electric zing of oncoming storms. Metallic and clear and apple-y. They blow a great big sigh into his chest, and it’s all wonderfully domestic. Something about them not realizing he had wanted to craft a certain ambiance and just falling into their usual, casual routine makes him smile. It’s just so them. He isn’t even bothered by Aeon not saying it back; he just needed to say it, lest it tumble from his lips at a random moment before his brain could stop his mouth from uttering the three words. 

Swiss sways them a little in the short span of silence, gaze lost in the flickering flames off to his right. That lingering feeling of arousal creeps back up, but he’s just as content to preserve this little bubble of warmth for as long as Aeon will let him. 

It’s not much longer though, the quint ghoul soon pulling his head out from their embrace. Their face has a little color to it, a slight purple hue over their otherwise deep gray complexion. Swiss can’t help but grin at how cute it makes them. 

“What are you smiling at?”

Swiss grins wider. “Just you. My cute little bug.”

Aeon shakes their head, amused. “You know that I love you, too, right?” 

A flash of giddiness surges through his chest, the entire cavity of it filling with affection. “You love me, too.” It’s a statement, not a question. Swiss fights his cheeks hard from dimpling with delight. 

“Yes? That’s what I just—mmpf!”

Swiss dives in and captures them in a kiss, cutting off the rest of their sentence. The ‘yes’ was more than enough for him. He kisses them like he hasn’t seen them in a hundred years—hands curled in their hair, mouths slotted perfectly together, and love seeping from every possible pore. Aeon melts so easily for him, humming contentedly when he licks over their top lip. Where it was heated and fervid before, it’s deep and tender now: a slow meeting and parting of their mouths, over and over without any intent of stopping. 

“Fuck, Swiss,” Aeon mumbles against his lips after who knows how many kisses. He takes it as an invitation to lick into their mouth, leaning into the hand that’s started skirting back under his shirt. “Please.”

Pleasure coils hot in his stomach. Renewed enthusiasm taking over as they start getting needy again. “Anything,” Swiss rumbles, grabbing at their waist. Pulling them in until they’re flush against him once more, until he can feel them throb through their pants. 

“Take me,” Aeon breathes. “Make me yours.”

please consider reblogging ♡ divider by @ghuleh-recs

Hyp. Your awesome. Your writing is awesome. Could be kinda awesome if you wrote some good ol' RainDrop in a bit of an enemies to lovers or a classic hate fuck situation? Only awesome if ur feeling it, obviously. If not that's cool. Just thought I'd ask to see if your awesome brain came up with anything 🤭

heheh thank you! i had some lore kinda thoughts and it turned into whatever this is. they're not fucking (yet) here, but the enemies to lover vibe is strong. I hope it's okay :3

(and look at my new divider by the amazing @ghuleh-recs!!!)

“What on earth are you doing with that bass?”

Rain jumps at the harsh voice of the other ghoul. He thought he was alone in the practice room—and maybe he was, but obviously not anymore.

“Playing,” he replies, trying his best to sound sure of himself and confident, but it comes out more as a question.

“Making an even bigger idiot out of yourself than you already are is what you’re doing,” Dewdrop scoffs. Rain tries to ignore that pang of hurt in his chest at his words, but it’s hard when every single day for the last weeks all that the fire ghoul’s been doing is showering him in hate. He thinks he may just about have had enough.

Still, he lacks the courage to do anything about it, anyway. When it comes to flight or fight, Rain chooses the former over and over again.

“I’m just gonna go if you need the room,” he says quietly and turns to put his bass away.

“Sure, go abuse that thing somewhere else.” The water ghoul has no idea what Dewdrop is on about. Maybe he is doing something wrong, but how would he know? He doesn’t have a mentor to teach him like all the other ghouls that were summoned to their pack with him.

Rain sighs, packs the bass and turns to leave with his head hung low.

Before he can actually leave, though, Dewdrop stops him. He stands in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest and he’s glaring up at Rain as if he has expected him to do something else.

“Who told you to pick like that?” he asks. Rain’s eyes are dragged to a wrinkle between his eyebrows. It seems permanent, always there with his frown, but the water ghoul thinks he could actually be really pretty if he just…got rid of that everlasting anger etched in his features.

“No one,” Rain tells him the truth. “I’ve been trying to figure stuff out on my own.”

“Why?” Dewdrop asks, seeming completely oblivious. Rain gets a little confused now, too. He knows the fire ghoul’s history, he knows it should be him teaching him his instrument. Did Dewdrop himself forget?

Suddenly Rain gets bolder.

“Well, I don’t exactly have a teacher,” he says louder, straightening up. “I’m doing my best, unlike someone.”

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Dewdrop growls and takes a step forward. He’s small—way smaller than Rain—but the pure fire in his eyes can intimidate. Still, the water ghoul doesn’t move.

“You know what! You can’t call me an idiot for not being great at something I have zero idea about just because the person who was supposed to teach me decided to…I don’t know, hate me for no reason!”

Dewdrop’s eyebrows shoot up.

He looks like Rain’s words…got to him and the water ghoul doesn’t know how to feel about it. Is it just a calm moment before the storm, is he about to be burned to the ground with Dewdrop’s anger? His anxious brain manages to come up with a multitude of doomsday scenarios in those short moments.

But what happens is so very different from all of those scenarios.

Dewdrop looks down and scoffs as if he’s regretting what he’s about to do, before he swiftly reaches out and grabs Rain’s arms to keep him close when he stands on his tiptoes and presses his burning lips against the water ghoul’s cold ones.

Rain huffs into the kiss in surprise, but quickly finds it…nice. He relaxes and kisses back and it’s getting more and more heated with every second.

A few moments later it’s Rain who begins to peel the other’s clothes off piece by piece. Neither of them knows what happens, it’s like they black out and in the next moment they’re tumbling on the floor naked.

“Fuck me, Rain,” Dewdrop pants and the water ghoul likes the way his own name falls from his lips. His voice is pretty. “Fuck the hate out of me.”

Well, Rain can’t exactly waste a solution to fixing his own problem?

Can he?

Mushy May Day 29: Girls' Night

Cumulus, Aurora, and Cirrus take a night to unwind in the middle of touring.

Thank you so much to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and to @ghuleh-recs for making us the dividers <3

We're in the home stretch!

Above them, the fluorescents buzz, just faintly flickering like one of the bulbs needs to be changed soon. Aurora leans heavily into Cirrus's side as they wander down the aisles of some local drugstore she can't quite remember the name of, and she wraps her arm around the littlest ghoulette's shoulders. She doesn't need to be quintessence to feel just how tired Aurora is. She knows the feeling intimately, the exhaustion sunk deep into the hollows of her bones.

They're picking up toiletries, Aurora's just about to run out of deoderant, Cirrus out of glasses wipes (she doesn't wear glasses, but she keeps them on hand for her mate because Lucifer knows Cumulus can never find them when her glasses are smudged)

"You doing alright, Borealis?" Cirrus asks, leaning to press the words to the crown of Aurora's head. Her hand rubs soft circles on Aurora's shoulder.

"Mhm," she hums, leaning further into Cirrus's side, fingers curled around the handle of their shopping basket.

Cumulus turns into the aisle they're in, hands full of bright colored foil packets, a bright look in her eye. When they had parted ways as they stepped into the store, she had looked just as tired as the two of them. Cirrus chirps curiously, quiet enough that none of the human shoppers can hear her.

"They've got face masks, and they sell liquor here, should we sneak a bottle of wine onto the bus and have a girls' night when we get to the hotel?" Cumulus asks, slipping the foil packets into the shopping basket without waiting for an answer.

Cirrus's posture eases, pulling Aurora tighter against her side as Cumulus gently takes the basket from her. "That sounds fucking wonderful, songbird. Rory, how about you?"

She shifts, tucked under Cirrus's arm. "Sounds fun, I mean, I don't think I'm up for drinking tonight. But I'll do everything else."

"Then we can skip the wine," Cumulus kisses her cheek, smoothing back bubblegum pink hair. "Though I did see, when I was getting the masks, there's a sale on nail polish. Maybe we redo those pretty claws of yours."

It's Aurora's turn to light up, and the three of them head back to the cosmetics aisle, picking a few bottles of bright, fun colors. Before they head up to the register, they make a quick pit stop in the snacks aisle, tossing a few boxes of assorted chocolates in the basket as well as a few salty snacks.

They smuggle their haul onto the bus, careful to make sure that the boys don't see what they're up to. Though, Cirrus thinks, it must be totally obvious that something's up. They're all much lighter on their feet, a little brighter eyed than they were fifteen minutes ago.

When they get to the hotel, the pack splits into their usual pairs. The girls slip into their room, flicking the deadbolt and tossing their duffle bags onto the far bed, the one that will go unused as the three of them curl up into their roost for the night.

Aurora takes one of the drugstore bags to the bathroom, setting out the face masks, not wanting to get them on the white hotel bedding, while Cirrus and Cumulus set out the snacks. "Who calls dibs on the shower?" Aurora asks as she comes back into the main room, moving to her bag to find a clean set of pajamas.

"How about you, borealis?" Cirrus hums, nudging her back towards the bathroom. She chirps in thanks, glamour fading away as the peach-colored gills on her throat flutter. They each quickly shower, scrubbing the grime from travel from their skin and hair, before settling at the bathroom vanity, looking at the various masks they'd picked up from the drugstore. Aurora pulls her phone out, turning on a playlist the three of them had curated on a low volume.

Cirrus sits on the closed toilel, eyes shut as Cumulus hums, carefully smoothing on undereye masks while Aurora braids her hair back. She passes packets of peel off mask to Cirrus and Cumulus, and Cirrus smooths the mask over Cumulus's face, caressing her mate's cheek.

It's quiet, save the music playing from the phone speakers. Cumulus turns, paints Aurora's mask onto her skin, and the little ghoulette leans into the touch, her feather-tipped tail wagging happily, thudding against the vanity. The bottles of nail polish sit on the counter, pinks and purples and blues, and the energy's lighter than it's been in the last week of Rituals and travel.

There are snacks waiting for them, and maybe the bed's not as familiar as the three of them would really like. But it's there, ready for them to cuddle up, feeding each other chocolates and salted nuts and dried fruit, talking about everything and nothing at all until they fall asleep, refreshed for another round of Rituals.

if i may request raindrop for day 25? 👉👈

Mushy May '24 Day 25: Sharing a secret comfort item

WC: 540

Relationship: Rain/Dewdrop

Notes: Maybe not fitting the prompt perfectly but idccc, I love newly summoned fish and still water idiot being awkward <3

Read under the cut or on AO3.

Rain does not like it.

He was summoned around two days ago and he’s in misery for no explainable reason. He’s cold and his skin feels wrong and he is really so close to sneaking out through the window—if he’d manage to figure out how it works—finding the closest body of water and hiding in there unless someone would haul him out.

He doesn’t know what’s wrong and he doesn’t feel comfortable asking anyone for help. He’s just met them, he can’t.

So Rain huffs and wraps himself up in a blanket that neither warms him up enough, nor feels good against his oversensitive skin.

He whines and grumbles to himself, tossing and turning in something that’s supposed to be his new nest, but it’s nowhere close to being a cozy one made of rocks and seaweeds that he’s used to.

The water ghoul jumps when he hears a tapping sound on…the door, he thinks. He has no idea what the purpose is and it hurts his ears a little, but it soon stops and the door opens. One of the ghoul’s he knows is his pack now peeks his head in, a shy smile on his pretty face. “Hi!”

“Hello,” Rain answered quietly, hiding behind the covers.

“Dunno if you remember, I’m–” the other ghoul starts, coming fully into the room and shutting the door behind him.

“Dewdrop,” the water ghoul finishes for him. He does remember, Dewdrop caught his eye immediately. “You’re also a water ghoul.”

“That I am,” he confirms. He carries something in his arms, a big bundle. “Freshwater.”

“I like salt,” Rain blurts out. “I mean…I’m–uh, I’m saltwater.”

Dewdrop giggles, but the new ghoul doesn’t take offense. His laugh sounds nice. 

“Anyway, I brought you something. Sorry it took me a few days, I wanted to wash it first.” Rain perks up, cocking his head to the side as Dewdrop outstretches his arms to drop the bundle into the other’s lap. He looks down at it with slight confusion and Dewdrop clears his throat, “It’s a blanket. It’s different from what you have there, it’s…more water ghoul friendly. It's special, actually, made for water ghouls, I got it when I got summoned from an older one. It's bigger, softer, and warmer, I know how the normal stuff feels and I’m sorry you had to deal with it.”

“Huh,” Rain replies intelligently. He reaches a hand out to touch the bundle and it is, indeed, so soft he lets out a gasp when he feels it. His eyes light up—his entire face does—and he shuffles around trying to get comfortable. It’s a big blanket, though, and he’s very clumsy out of the water, so he gets…well, trapped, essentially.

“Oh, uhm…lemme–” Dewdrop comes closer and—rather awkwardly—helps Rain untangle himself from the blanket and get under it properly. He puts the other comforters that the new water ghoul got over him to add warmth and only when he pulls away he notices that Rain started purring. It sounds a bit weird, the ghoul obviously not used to doing it out of water, but Dewdrop quickly realizes he absolutely adores it.

When Rain thanks him and snuggles further into the blanket Dewdrop realizes he absolutely adores him.

𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘺 𝘋𝘢𝘺 𝘚𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯: "𝘚𝘩𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘱, 𝘐'𝘮 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶."

Rating: G Pairing: Dewdrop/Aether Words: 853 Man I just can't resist an Aether sickfic.

Mushy May created by @forlorn-crows Divider by @ghuleh-recs

Whenever there’s some god awful bug going around the Abbey, it’s inevitable. Aether always gets it. Usually toward the end of the outbreak. Exhausted from running around helping everyone else. Pulling double shifts in the infirmary. Swearing up and down that ghouls can’t catch sicknesses from humans. He’s wrong, every single time. He lies to himself about it anyway. 

This one is pretty mild. A sore throat. A cough. His head feels like it wants to float away but also like it weighs a thousand pounds. He drags himself back to his room from the infirmary in denial. Limbs heavy. Exhaustion bone deep.  He’ll sleep it off. That’s all he needs. Twelve hours of sleep and he’ll be fine. 

When he wakes up he is not fine. His head is pounding. He can’t decide between if he’s hot or if he’s freezing. He lays in his bed, throws his arm over his eyes to block out even the idea of the sun and groans into the inside of his elbow. 

Aether swallows, it feels like knives. He lays there for what feels like hours, suspended in sickness, trying to decide what to do. How to fix this. He knows there is medicine in the bathroom. That it,combined with some of Mountain’s tea, will help. He knows all he has to do to relieve his suffering is stand up and take care of himself. He chides patients for it all the time–that all they have to do is drink lots of water and baby themselves for a few days. But Aether rarely has to realize how hard that is sometimes. He thinks, this is fair karma. He will never suggest that caring for oneself is easy ever again. 

Instead of getting up and getting water, or medicine, or even his phone to text someone and ask for those things, he rolls onto his side. Hopeful that he can just will himself back to sleep. That if he could just be unconscious everything would be ok again. 

It doesn’t work. He doesn’t sleep. He can’t. Every time he starts to drift off something hurts more. His nose runs. He coughs so hard his chest aches. 

It feels like days later that there’s a knock on the door. A quick rap, just before Aether hears the knob turn and the door open. 

“Aeth?” 

“Hey, Dew,” Aether mumbles into his pillow, voice hoarse. 

“You’re sick. I told you you were going to get sick.” 

Aether groans. He starts to tell Dew that he doesn’t need to be reprimanded right now, but he cuts himself off with a rattling cough he feels in his bones. 

“Did you take anything?” 

Aether shakes his head. “I’m fine.” 

Dew doesn’t answer, Aether hears him walk into Aether’s attached bathroom, he hears the medicine cabinet open. Dew drops something, swears. Aether can hear him mumbling to himself as he rumages. The water runs for a while, and then Dew’s at his beside. 

“Sit up.” 

Aether does, it’s an ordeal, it involves opening his eyes, which hurts. His head spins, but he manages to right himself with his back against the headboard. Dew’s sitting next to him on the bed. There’s a glass of water on the nightstand. Dew’s holding what looks like a fistful of pills, and a damp washcloth. 

“Dew, I’m ok.” 

“Just take the fucking medicine, Aether.” 

Aether would laugh, make some joke about how bad Dew would be at working in the infirmary, but he finds he doesn’t have the energy. He just takes the pills from Dew. It’s less than a fistful–only four. A couple of Advil and some cold medicine. He takes them all, taking small sips of blessedly cold water to swallow them with. 

Dew settles the washcloth over his forehead. It’s cold. Almost too cold except for the immediate relief it brins. Aether’s eyes flutter closed. 

“I’m going to run you a bath,” Dew says, smoothing his hand over Aether’s flushed cheek. Fingers gentle, and feeling strangely cool against Aether’s overheated skin. 

“You don’t have to–”

“Shut up,” Dew bites with no venom. “I’m taking care of you ok? Let me.” 

“Only if you take the bath with me, keep me company,” Aether mumbles. He doesn’t want to be alone again. He feels like garbage, and as much as he wants to tell Dew he’s ok and can take care of himself–he wants the attention more, the care. Dew bends down and kisses Aether between his horns. Thumb still tracking over his cheek. 

“Yeah, if that’s what you want.” 

“Can you get me some of Mountain’s tea too? And a snack? And–” 

“Hey,” Dew snaps, laughter in his voice. “Don’t push your luck.” 

But when Dew slips out of the door a few minutes later he knows that Dew will come back with everything he asked for and more. He lets himself sink into the bed, still feeling like shit, but knowing that the end is in sight. There’s a cool bath in his future, and more gentle touches from a fire ghoul with terrible bedside manner. What more could he ever ask for?

Mushy May Day 22: Reminiscing

Mountain wakes in the middle of the night and watches his mates sleep.

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

Another alternate prompt for today!

Mountain can't sleep. It's strange. He's normally the first of the three of them out, snoring gently before his partners have even closed their eyes. Normally sleeps through the night without fail. But despite being awake, he cherishes it, the room dark, barring the silver moonlight that slips through their curtains, just enough to see by.

He turns in Dew's arms, slowly, carefully, not to wake him. But if Dew can sleep through Aether's snoring, rattling in his chest like a chainsaw, Dew can sleep through anything. The fire ghoul's expression is peaceful, eyes gently closed and moving under lids, dreaming. The furrow between his brows is smoothed over, and Mountain can't help himself from brushing a strand of spun gold hair back behind the point of his ear.

It moves his hair off of his neck, and it's just barely bright enough to make out the silvery, parallel scars that line the sides of Dew's throat. Mountain exhales through his nose, unable to resist bringing his fingertip down, tracing featherlight over one of the long cauterized scars.

Dew's ear twitches, piercings jingling, and Mountain pulls his hand back. He stirs, but doesn't wake, mumbling something nonsensical. Mountain's lips quirk up, just staring fondly at his smaller mate. He remembers when those scars were fluttering teal fins, when the spun gold hair was silver.

It makes something pang deep in his heart, the remembering. When things were unimaginably bad, when the three of them clung to each other like fresh, new kits too scared to leave the nest. Scents changing, sea salt to campfire.Terrified, unsafe, paranoid of every shadow.

Things are better now, the band den full of pack again, ghouls that Mountain loves with everything he has. And he has Aether and Dew, peacefully asleep in their shared nest.

He smiles, moving to settle back down. There's a hand curling around his bicep, and he jolts, Aether's eyes glowing amethyst in the dim light as they meet Mountain's.

"Everything okay, nova?" Aether whispers, voice gruff with sleep. "I knew you woke up early for the greenhouse, but I didn't think it was this early yet." The joke is light in his tone, thumb smoothing over his freckled skin, right on his farmer's tan line.

Mountain snorts quietly, kicking into a rumbling purr. "I dunno why I'm up, sorry for waking you."

Aether shrugs with one arm, the other pillowed under Dew's head. "You didn't, not really, just sort of... felt your emotions. More intense than they usually are this late."

"I was just thinking," he says, eyes drifting down to their mate between them. The grip on his arm tightens, Aether's thumb still rubbing in an arc over his bicep.

"We're okay, we made it," Aether whispers, and Mountain nods.

"I know, this is real."

"We earned it, we earned our rest," he says, eyes half-lidded with sleep but still so kind and warm, the magick swirling in his irises like galaxies.

"If we earned our rest, can we please fucking sleep?" Dew mumbles groggily, shifting between them with an adorable pout on his lips.

"Sorry, firefly," Mountain whispers, leaning down to press a kiss on his mate's forehead, letting Dew pull him closer. Their legs tangle together, and Mountain can feel Dew's pulse where their chests are pressed together, remembers how feathery and frantic it was back then, just how much terror tinged their scents. It was so bad they had to get new sheets.

Dew's expression softens, wrapping his arms around Mountain's torso, squeezing him that much tighter. "You okay, junie?" His voice is soft, sweet, the way he speaks to them versus the way he speaks to the rest of the pack.

Mountain nods, a soft keen slipping past his lips as he ducks down again and nuzzles into the crown of Dew's head, avoiding the sharp point of his little obsidian horns. "I love you two," he whispers, eyes darting from Dew's to Aether's and back. "So much. I don't know what to do with it all, I love you so much."

He can see the way Aether's cheek dimples as he smiles fondly over Dew's shoulder, can feel the way Dew's grip around his middle tightens. "Love you too, junie," Dew whispers, breath infernally hot against the shell of Mountain's ear.

Aether's hand squeezes his bicep in three quick pulses. "Love you too, sweet thing. Don't know what I'd do without the two of you."

Dew cranes his neck, peering over his shoulder at him. "You won't have to find out, swear it on our Father Below," he declares, a stubbornness set in his shoulders, and Aether leans down and kisses him. He turns, leaning over Dew's narrow shoulders to kiss Mountain too, tasting the beeswax of his lipbalm.

"Alright," Dew huffs, pulling the two of them back down to the mattress. "I love you two dearly, but can we please sleep?"

"Anything for my darlings," Aether hums, wrapping his arms around the two of them, hauling them closer to him. "Good night."

Dew hums, satisfied, copper eyes shutting as he snuggles between them. Very quickly, Mountain's the only one still awake. He looks at his mates, feels their body heat burning warm. He settles into the nest, breathing in their oh-so familiar scents, and lets that carry him back to sleep.

Some sad kinda fucked Ifrit thoughts because I woke up and they came

Cw; Substance Abuse, Sex as a coping mechanism, and just kinda general sads.

Nothing graphic said but still putting those ^

Ifrit

Big, Strong, oh so stupid Ifrit.

That's what was thought of him. A muscle head who fucked hard, partied hard, and got fucked up without a care.

An easy fuck and go without connections, without having to stick around after sorta thing

That isn't who he was though.

This was all learned behavior because it's what got him the attention he craved, any sense of being useful, cared about even if it was only because his body was useful

He loved and hated every single second of every single hookup, high, and any other thing that got him out of his head

If he wasn't happy he wasn't useful, if he didn't stay the persona they all knew he wouldn't be liked, if she showed just how broken inside he truly was he'd lose everything and everyone he had, no matter how superficial he needed the attention

It didn't matter if it was a vicious cycle of regrets, and horrible sleepless night, bad highs and.. thoughts he shouldn't have. Couldn't have

It was all he had now

His pack was broken.

His pack hated him after he left.

He never bothered to try and reconnect, why would he.

Aether, Mountain, and Dew stayed with the band, Zephyr never spoke to him, Mist was long gone to be with the lake.

He couldn't bother any of them with this.

With him.

He left the pack, he left the band, that was his choice. He left the only people who cared about him and for what? To go and be whatever he was now?

Yes.

Even when he knew he could possibly rekindle something he didn't. Shoved those feelings down and shoved more substance down his throat.

He didn't deserve it.

Didn't deserve to have that happiness.

That comfort.

Ifrit used to be the most caring, lovable golden retriever there was.

Always following someone's trail, loving on them, and doing every favor he could

His pack loved him

He loved his pack

Now a days he's nothing more then an old dog owned by a family long since grown.

One that's waiting for the first excuse to be put down despite all the love it has left to give.

He thinks it's what he deserves.

A life of misery, and pain without comfort.

He watches his old pack in longing, the only happiness coming from seeing how happy and healthy they are

He'd do anything for them even now

He's so happy to see them thrive and love each other

Even if it also breaks his heart.

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."

Mushy May Day 20: Gardening

Sunny, Rain, and Mountain plant strawberries in the Abbey garden.

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

"Will these do?"

Mountain looks up, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. He knows he's left a smudge of dirt behind but can't bring himself to care. Rain's walking closer to the raised bed he's currently planting in, shirt rucked up to hold about three dozen stones. He's dripping wet, starting to dry off in the late spring sun, hair hanging in curtains around his face.

The angle is something Mountain doesn't get to see every day, the water ghoul actually looming over him on his knees.

"Lemme see, tadpole." Mountain shifts up on his knees as Rain gets close enough for him to examine the stones. They're all vaguely oblong, narrower at one end than the other, smoothed by years of the lake's waves lapping at them. "These are perfect," he says, glancing up at Rain until their eyes meet, emerald to aquamarine. "Sunny's got the paint. I've got about ten more of these to plant and then could I have you water for me?"

Rain smiles, revealing his serrated teeth. "Sure thing." He bends down to press a sweet kiss to the corner of Mountain's mouth, watching pleased as punch as a blush blooms over the earth ghoul's olive skin. "You've got a little," he gestures at Mountain's face.

"Come on, Rainy, you know better. A little dirt won't kill me," Mountain sighs, rolling his eyes as he smiles fondly at the water ghoul. "We're gardening, there's going to be some dirt."

Rain returns the fond smile, flicking the finned spade of his tail on the brim of Mountain's hat, something floppy to keep the sun out of his eyes. Rain, along with the rest of his packmates, finds it incredibly endearing. He turns, heading to where Sunny's sitting at one of Mountain's workbenches.

"I come bearing gifts, sunbeam," he says, dumping the rocks from the lake into a neat little pile in front of her. She glances up at him, a paintbrush tucked behind her pointed ear, curls bouncing softly as her head moves.

"Pretty," Sunny coos, though she's not looking at the rocks. Rain preens, patting the small of her back with his tail. She rolls her eyes playfully, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him down to sit next to her. She picks up a rock, examining the smooth, grey surface. "It's a shame we've got to paint them all red."

"You want strawberries come July?" Mountain asks. "We could just let the birds and critters get them, or we could put out the decoys."

"I know, string bean," Sunny laughs, taking the paintbrush from out behind her ear, shaking the little bottle of red craft paint she brought out and squeezing some onto a little plastic palette. She starts painting each rock, coating them in red, whistling something bright that carries through the gardens as she works.

Mountain barks a laugh at the nickname, turning back to his strawberry plants. He whispers in Ghoulish as he plants each one, encouraging words of earth magick and blessing. The lines of his knuckles and his fingernails are caked with soil.

Rain meanders back over. "I can start watering the one's you've done so far?" he asks, settling on his knees on the far side of the planter opposite Mountain.

He hums approvingly, examining another strawberry plant that they're repotting from the seedling containers. They're big enough now to go in the actual ground, let the roots expand down into the earth, leaves furling out to soak up the sun. There's twenty in total, the work meditative, especially as he catches glances of Rain, brow furrowed as he focuses, pulling moisture from the air and sinking it into the soil, nurturing and precise.

The three of them work quietly, soaking in their packmates' presence. The tip of Sunny's tongue peeks through her teeth as she focuses, making the stones look like strawberries, deterring the birds and fauna from nibbling on the plants when they eventually fruit. There's plenty of berry patches in the woods not a hundred feet from the gardens for them to forage from.

Sunny hums in satisfaction, setting aside her paintbrush and calling on her air and fire to dry the rocks, now painted to resemble perfectly ripe berries. She gathers them up just as Mountain finishes tamping down the soil around the last plant, scattering them around the garden bed.

Mountain groans as he stands, knees protesting and coveralls stained with grass and dirt. "We'll be eating good in no time," he hums, nudging his shoulder against Sunny's. "They'll be just as sweet as you."

Rain's head perks up from between two plants. "And what about me?"

Sunny and Mountain share a look, bursting into laughter.

MUSHY MAY 2024

DAY 20: GARDENING

1600 words

Phantom ghoul, mountain ghoul, Aurora ghoulette, Dewdrop ghoul, Cirrus ghoulette

Phantom and the others try to ease Mountain's stress by tidying his garden as a surprise but it doesn't go too well. Mush ensues.

Thanks goes out once again to @forlorn-crows for organising Mushy May, and also to @ghuleh-recs for making the pretty dividers 🖤🖤🖤

This ficlet was inspired by a real life scenario that happened to me just yesterday. Basically I'm Phantom 🤦

Read below or on AO3

A procession of six ghouls and ghoulettes trudged through the gardens towards the Abbey's greenhouses. They were dressed in their work gear, laden with tools and snacks and sharing banter under the late afternoon sun.

Phantom hadn’t spent too much time out here since he’d been summoned a couple of months ago for one reason or another, but he was looking forward to doing something nice for his pack mate Mountain.

The big earth ghoul had been so kind to him since he’d arrived in this strange place. It was so very different from the Pit that he’d grown up in and it was taking the young quintessence ghoul a long time to become accustomed to his new life here at the Abbey. Everything seemed to be a learning curve and Phantom often felt like a kit again when faced with the barrage of new experiences and challenges.

The rest of the pack had been supportive, of course, but Mountain especially had been very patient and understanding when Phantom messed up... Which pretty much happened on a daily basis.

He’d overheard a conversation in the common room between Cirrus and Rain. They were worried about Mountain. He hadn’t been himself lately, but Phantom wasn’t sure why.

He’d felt it from him too though. There was an innate sadness and a world weariness to him that seemed to be growing worse as the days went on. Nobody seemed to be able to figure out what they could do to help him.

The idea had been Dew’s, surprisingly. They’d all noticed the way that Mountain had been stressing about all of the springtime work that he had to do in the garden so Dew had suggested that they surprise him by going to tidy up the flower beds. If the pack did a little weeding and some of the tedious but essential maintenance jobs, then Mountain would be free to do what he loved best; planting. The garden was his pride and joy and this would hopefully take some of the pressure off him and make him more relaxed.

Swiss had been tasked with keeping Mountain distracted for a couple of hours while the rest of them got to work.

The pack reached the garden that stretched out along the long side of Mountain’s greenhouse and they made an organised pile of the things they’d brought, placing them carefully onto the wooden bench where Mountain often liked to sit and watch the sun rise.

Phantom had joined him in this peaceful activity on a regular basis when he’d woken from the nightmares that plagued him, panicked and gasping for breath. He would come aware to the comfort of a large body curled around him, kind words in his ear and calloused but gentle palms stroking soothing circles around his back.

Mountain would hold him until his heart had calmed and then lead him out into the gardens. Their morning ritual never failed to clear the fuzz from Phantom’s head and they’d sit quietly for a while, side by side, watching in comfortable silence as the dawn broke.

“Okay, if we pair up then this will work better. Cirrus and Rain, Phantom and Aurora, me and Cumulus,” Dew said, pointing to them all. “Is everyone okay with that?”

They all made noises of agreement and went off to the areas Dew had allocated to them.

Aurora put on the gloves she’d brought and handed a pair to Phantom. She looked around at their patch of garden and sighed.

“I don’t know why they put the two of us together. I’m guessing you’re just as clueless about Earth plants as I am? How are we supposed to know what isn’t meant to be here? This bit has been a bit neglected, hasn’t it?”

She was right. There were larger plants that clearly belonged, but the soil was filled with a variety of smaller, leafy plants too that could just as easily have been rare flowers as weeds.

Phantom huffed a laugh, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the phone he’d been given by Papa.

“Secret weapon,” he said, holding it up. Aurora looked confused. “Google Lens. Rain showed it to me. You take a picture of something and then Google tells you what it is. That way, we’ll know what to keep and what to get rid of.”

She eyed the phone warily for a moment and Phantom grinned at her. He was confident that they’d be fine and his confidence must have rubbed off on Aurora because she shrugged, picked up a small trowel and knelt down in the dirt.

“Sounds good to me,” she said.

It didn’t take long to realise that the two of them made a great team. They used the phone plenty of times to check what they were dealing with and after a couple of hours they had cleared the area that Dew had given them to tidy.

The pile of weeds was bigger than Phantom had anticipated. It must have been a while since anyone had done anything in this part of the garden.

Dew wandered over to them carrying cups of juice.

“Refreshments,” he said as he handed them one each. He looked at the pile of weeds they’d gathered and raised his brows. “Wow, you two have been busy!”

Phantom grinned and he felt Aurora’s pride that the two newest members of the pack had done such a good job.

Cirrus came to join them but she took one look at the pile and cursed.

“Please tell me you guys didn’t just pull up any old thing without checking what it was?”

Phantom frowned.

“Well no, we used Google Lens to check them.”

Cirrus’ eyes widened.

“I don’t think Google Lens is very reliable, guys. Mountain has some hybrids and flowers that he’s spent years on and they probably couldn’t be identified with an app.”

Phantom’s stomach dropped and he heard Aurora whine beside him.

“I... We checked them! It said they were weeds!”

He could feel panic welling up, constricting his heart when he realised what they might have done. Mountain would be devastated when he saw it. He’d be so angry that all of his hard work had been ruined.

Cirrus crouched down and picked up some of the plants that had been pulled. Phantom watched in horror as the realisation dawned on her. She held up one of the green stems. It was broken in half.

“Sorry to say, but I think these are Mountain’s petunias.” She pointed to a bare patch of earth. “They should be there.”

Phantom’s heart picked up speed and the panic bubbled up further, twisting his guts and wringing them out.

Memories of his old life in the Pit threatened to overwhelm him. Something like this would not go unpunished there and Phantom found his instincts taking over as his rational thought processes began to fail.

He turned on his heel and ran.

___

The smell of blood broke him out of it and Phantom blinked, coming back to his senses. He was curled up in a recess of earth underneath a fallen log, arms wrapped around himself. Tremors wracked his body and a sting on his cheek made him remember falling and catching it, grazing the skin.

A twig snapped close by and Phantom’s head snapped up, wide eyes searching for the threat and landing on Mountain who was walking carefully towards him.

Phantom whimpered and cowered further back towards the bark of the trunk.

“Hey, bug,” Mountain said softly. “What’s all this about? The others said you ran off in a panic.”

Phantom shifted again, not daring to take his eyes off the other ghoul and trying to reach out with his quintessential self to read his emotions and give himself some kind of warning as to what his reaction was going to be.

“I... I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! We were trying to help out. It’s my fault, we should have asked the others. Please don’t be mad at Aurora.”

Mountain stopped a few feet away and put his hands on his hips. He tilted his head and frowned, kind eyes searching Phantom’s face. He sighed, coming to a realisation.

“I’m not angry, Phantom, not angry at any of you.”

Phantom concentrated on his emotions and sure enough, he didn’t sense any anger, only sadness and relief that he’d been found.

“You’re not?”

Mountain shook his head and smiled warmly.

“Of course not. It was an easy mistake to make. You weren’t to know. I’m sure we can replant some of them. Why don’t you come out and we can go back and give it a try?”

Phantom eyed him for a moment, feeling the last tendrils of panic letting go of his heart.

Mountain crouched down in front of him and held out his hand. Phantom inhaled a deep breath and took it. It was warm and it brought him comfort, chasing away any thoughts he’d had that Mountain would hurt him for doing something wrong.

The big ghoul pulled him to his feet and then let go of his hand. Phantom wrapped his arms around his torso tightly and looked up.

“We can plant them again?”

Mountain smiled and nodded.

“Sure thing, bug.” He slowly put an arm around Phantom’s shoulders and gently encouraged him to start walking. “Do you want me to teach you about the plants too? You can come and help me out in the greenhouses if you like? There’ll be plenty to do over the next few weeks and I could do with another pair of hands.”

Phantom grinned up at him, his heart swelling with relief and with joy that he could give Mountain something back after everything he'd done for him.

“I would absolutely love that,” he said as they headed back to the gardens.

Thanks for reading 🖤 check out my AO3 page for other Ghost band works 🖤

𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒚 20: 𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈

pairing(s): mountain/sunshine words: 597

Sunshine pushes the seeds into their little cups of dirt, wriggling happily where she’s sat on top of the workbench. Mountain’s favorite playlist to work to plays over the little speaker in the corner of the greenhouse, and she jabs her finger into the soil in time to the music. A cool breeze seeps in from the open doors, fresh and floral spring air intermittently cutting through the humidity as they work together to prep herbs and pepper plants. It’s easy; no place she’d rather be. Sunshine croons along with the rich tenor voice of the song, tail thumping against the leg of the table. 

The song fades out and another one begins, the bass plucking out a simple two note rhythm. Mountain perks up from his soil mixing station, looking over to Sunny with a goofy grin on his face. She knows the song, and his routine to it, but it doesn’t make her any less giddy. He sways his hips when the guitar comes in, walking over to her as he snaps his fingers perfectly on beat, miming the drum opening and crooning (slightly off key but still on beat):

I’ve got sunshi-i-ine . . . on a cloudy da-a-ay. He holds his hands out to her. When it’s cold outsi-i-ide, I-I’ve got the month of May. His hands are gritty as she takes them, hopping off the bench and smiling big. 

I. Guess. You’d. Say. He leans in, pressing their noses together. What. Can. Make. Me feel this wa-a-y? He grabs her by the waist, pulling out a giggle as he pulls her into the middle of the room, right into a patch of dappled afternoon sun.

My gi-i-irl . . . talkin’ ‘bo-out my gi-i-irl.

My girl! Sunny jumps in. I’ve got soooo much ho-oney, the bees envy me. She mimes the trumpets in the background with fingers in front of her mouth.

I’ve got a sweeter so-o-ong, Mountain continues, than the birds in the tre-ees. 

We-e-ell. I. Guess. You’d. Say. He lifts her up by her bum, bouncing her to the words as he sings them into her jawline. What. Can. Make. Me feel this wa-a-y? 

Sunshine giggles ferociously and kicks her feet. His scruffy beard tickles her neck and she squeals: “Mount!” 

My gi-i-irl . . . talkin’ bout my gi-i-irl. The earth ghoul spins her around and peppers her in kisses—big, noisy ones that tickle her skin even more. His voice cracks as he tries to hit the high notes on the ooh’s, to which Sunny shakes her head at him, presses their foreheads together, and teasingly sings the correct notes against his lips. He chuckles and pecks at her lips. The instrumental bridge slows them down, and Mountain places her back down onto the ground. But he doesn’t let her go, taking her hands instead and pushing and pulling them in alternating directions with a silly flair. 

“How’re you so perfect, my sweet, sunshine-y girl?” he asks her.

Sunny rolls her eyes and smiles. “Do you like me or something?” she jests. 

“Maybe just a little.” He lifts one of her hands and kisses her knuckles. A little olive blush graces his cheeks, and it’s the cutest thing she’s ever seen. 

Sunshine tugs her hand back when he doesn’t stop kissing it, yanking him back to their task. “Come on, loverboy, we’ve got seeds to plant, yeah?”

“Do you want to switch for a bit? I know that,” he gestures to her stack of seedling trays, “gets tedious after a while.”

“You just want to stare at my ass bending over the soil bags.” 

Mountain just shrugs. “Guilty.”

𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✿ divider by the wonderful @ghuleh-recs

Mushy May, day 6. "You're blushing"

Rating: M

Pairing: Swiss/Dewdrop

Words: 1,155

Summary: A morning like any other, and Swiss just really loves Dew.

Contains: Nothing explicit - just Dew getting sorta turned on. Swiss being gross and lovely dovey.

As always 1000 smooches to @forlorn-crows for all of this <333

Pay no attention to what date anything is posted on anymore

Behind him the bathroom door creaked. Nudged open by a bleary eyed, disheveled multi ghoul. None of his locs remained contained within the elastic Swiss had drawn them into the night before, all in varying states of untamed with minds of their own. He shuffled his way towards the shower, mouth falling open to reveal oversized fangs as he yawned, idly scratching at his bare stomach. 

Dew watched the way he moved, practically on autopilot in the still foggy edges of the mirror. Still yet to even acknowledge his existence in the room at all, likely because his eyes were barely open enough to see what was in front of him, and Dew didn't have the heart - or the balls to break him from his sleepy stupor. Swiss was, for all intents and purposes, a bear in the morning. Waking him was treacherous. But also he looked kinda cute when he was tired like this. A dangerous teddy bear. 

His eyebrows raised minutely as he caught a glimpse of the deep red welts raked down Swiss’ back when Swiss bent at the waist to fuss with the old stubborn faucet. He winced sympathetically and glanced down at his hand, mentally noting to file down his claws at some point lest he maul another poor unsuspecting victim. Swiss hardly seemed bothered by the battle scars as he braced his hands on his lower back to stretch. Dew tipped his head, morning routine momentarily forgotten when Swiss let out a low half purr-half groan of satisfaction. The sound itself was innocent in nature but still managed to kickstart something hot in his gut but the sway of his tail and the second full bodied yawn of the morning did something far worse to Dew. Warmth deep in the confines of his ribs and an unwilling curl to his lips, Dew exhaled fondly. Endeared and amused by the sheer act of being him. 

The small space grew warmer as the shower began to heat up, trickling water white noise as Swiss puttered back and forth aimlessly gathering his things with a practiced ease. 

Dew remembered a time where Swiss shifted uncomfortably at the prospect of moving some of his things into Dew's bathroom - afraid of intruding, of taking up space in places he claimed weren't his but Dew had laughed at his initial nervousness. Places that weren't his, as if he didn't wake up in Dew's bed most mornings, as if his sheets didn't carry the rich smokey scent of the multi ghoul even in his absence. That bed was Swiss’ as much as it was his. Arguing his point with Dew was a waste of breath, he'd already emptied out the drawer for his things long before the conversation happened. Now Swiss rummaged through the bathroom like it had always been his. 

“Hey cinder…” 

Swiss sagged against him abruptly and Dew braced himself against the counter to keep himself upright, only hissing a little when Swiss laughed. His voice was low and rusted, husked by sleep but tinged sweet. Perching his chin on his shoulder he fixed him a smile in their reflection, lazy but entirely genuine, before slotting himself properly against his back. He'd finally blinked the sleep from his eyes despite his lids sitting heavy, rings of gold peeking out from under dark lashes.

“Hey yourself,” he hummed and continued working his fingers through the ends of his damp hair. “Didn't think you'd be up for a bit - don't tell me I somehow managed to wake you.” 

“Oh nothin’ wakes me darling.” Strong arms snuck around his narrow waist and Swiss turned to tuck his face into his hair. Dew bit his lip, admiring the way his embrace just seemed to envelop him. Sure, he was small but Swiss always managed to make him feel it and it made his stomach do flips. “You smell good.” 

“You're gonna tangle my hair again,” Dew hissed half heartedly and he opted to hold him tighter. A subtle reminder that the multi ghoul could keep him however he liked. Part of Dew hoped he did just that.  

“Oh don't be such a priss, that's Rain's job” he snorted and pressed a chaste kiss to his bare shoulder. Careful to avoid the sore imprints of teeth leading down his neck like a true gentleman. “Just wanna hold my baby a little, can't really deny me that now can you?”

Dumbfounded, Dew once again paused in the motion. Fingers still tangled in his hair, he knit his brow. The action of embracing him, the pet name - not to mention the casual ‘my’ prefixed to it, he felt hit brain skitter to a halt. Swiss laughed again, not necessarily at him though. An amused exhale too close to his skin that makes him shudder. 

“Your baby?” He repeats with reluctance, heart rate picking up speed with each suspicious syllable. The smile he's met with is too much teeth, like Swiss might just eat him alive but not to revel in his agony. Like he might devour him to savor him in entirety, an act of reverence as opposed to violence. 

“My baby.” 

An involuntarily whine rose in his throat, eyes flitting away as to not watch the pink color his cheeks. Swiss was certainly watching.

“What's wrong?” He squeezed his middle and nosed lightly against his pulsepoint, likely feeling the way it stuttered. 

“You're being weird” Dew's voice went soft as little kisses were pressed to the hinge of his jaw. The heat in his belly was undeniable now but he still tried to distract himself, washing his hands in icy water. 

“And you're cute when you're all bashful like this, sweetheart.” Another kiss followed by a playful nip, the faintest catch of teeth against already bruised skin. Dew's eyes nearly fluttered. “You like it, know you do, love when I'm sweet on you like this.” 

Mouth opening to protest, Dew’s brain struggled to provide the words and he was left standing there stammering while Swiss continued to lightly bite and kiss along the column of his throat. He was turning to putty, dick beginning to twitch with interest. Every sappy, tooth-rotting whisper close to his ear aided it in fattening up much to his humiliation. The fire ghoul screwed his eyes shut when Swiss hummed curiously, mortified when his palm pressed to the front of his boxers. Dew whined again, distress and need mixed into one desperate sound. 

“You're blushing, beautiful…Prettiest shade of pink, wonder if it will be just as red when I get my hands on it.” 

“Fucking hells, you're gonna kill me,” he warbled and grabbed his wrist, unsure if he wanted to add to the pressure against him or pull him away. 

“Just love you baby, let me love you.”

Dew swallowed and cracked an eye open to take in the sight of them. He almost wanted to commit it to memory. 

“Y-Yeah, okay…Love you too.” 

Mushy May Day 17: Funny T-shirts

Sunny likes to poke fun at Swiss with custom t-shirts, much to his chagrin.

Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and @ghuleh-recs for making the dividers! <3

The note for this in my outline was "a la mercer and riegel" if that makes sense to anyone lol.

Swiss looks up from his breakfast, a bowl of granola and berries and yogurt, as Sunny bounds into the kitchen, her copper curls bouncing as she enters with a suspicious spring in her step. "Hiya, spark!" She greets him, settling into one of the chairs across from him. Rain and Aurora look up as well, wishing the other multi-ghoulette a good morning.

His eyes settle on the collar of her oversized button up, clearly one of Aether's. "Morning, ember," he says, trying to copy her enthusiasm and not quite making it. "You go clothes raiding again?" He takes another bite of his breakfast, watching her expectantly. Something's not quite right here, button ups not usually Sunny's style.

She shrugs, still grinning, snatching the carafe of orange juice and pouring herself a glass. As Sunny leans to reach, the collar of the button up droops, revealing the hem of a bright orange t-shirt. Nothing more than that, but it's enough for Swiss's spoon to clink against his bowl as he buries his face in his hands.

"Another one, Sunny?" he groans. "How many shirts. Please."

Rain and Aurora turn, eyes brightening in intrigued laughter as Sunny takes a drink, smugly settling back in her chair.

"Now, Swissy, I have no idea what you could be talking about," she says, batting her eyelashes at him.

It's her favorite way to poke fun at him. Awful candid photos of him, blown up and custom printed somewhere online, hidden under zip up hoodies and button ups that she takes off to reveal like the world's most embarrassing strip tease. There have been ones taken while he's sleeping, mouth open, snoring and drooling, and ones that were the unfortunate results of a mistimed blink while taking pictures with the pack. Fortunately, or unfortunately for Sunny, there are no kit pictures, no way to bring them after being summoned Up Top.

He hates the way it makes his face burn, but it makes the pack laugh, and makes Sunny's cheeks dimple with her grin in a way that makes Swiss feels crazy. So he endures it. (He'll never admit that he thinks it's funny too.)

"Noooooo," he groans, peeking through his fingers as Sunny stands, unbuttoning her top button.

"How many of those do you have, sunbeam?" Rain asks, staring smugly at Swiss's over the top distress. "Ten? Twenty?"

"This one makes fourteen," Sunny says, undoing another two buttons.

Swiss rubs his temples, pretending a headache's coming on. "Emberrrrrrrr," he drags out in a groan. "Come on, get it over with."

"As you wish." Sunny copies his signature grin, all of her teeth on display, hands moving down farther and farther, each button slipping through the button hole. Finally, Aether's shirt falls open, revealing a Ritual picture of him.

It's the lowest quality picture of him Swiss has ever seen, only thing distinct about his features are the bug like lenses and the bright white of his teeth against the black helmet. He had been grinning menacingly at that Ritual, but the grainy picture makes him look dorky. There's words across the top and bottom, all caps in Impact font, declares "Swiss Shirt Bottom Text"

"I made a shirt for you, sparky!" Sunny beams, watching Swiss groan. "You like it?"

Swiss growls, silverware clattering as he shoots to his feet, Rain and Aurora's laughter echoing around the kitchen. Sunny squeaks, eyes wide as she darts off, Swiss in close pursuit.

Day 16- first kiss- rulti

Thanks to @forlorn-crows for the prompts and @gothdaddyissues for the divider!

“Dew kisses like he’s trying to suck the air out of my mouth” rain laughed, “I give him points for passion, he’s definitely enthusiastic”

Rains feet are kicked over Swiss’s lap on the love seat. He leans against the armrest idly snacking on a cheap bag of chips while Swiss leans his opposite way against the other rest. They’re comfortable, a soft warmth while they sit with each other just for the sake of talking.

“Mountain looks like he would be better at it” Swiss commented as he tried to count the patterns in the worn fabric of the couch.

“Oh he’s much better, I love dew but I swear mountain could probably make me cum from his lips on mine alone”

Swiss visibly winces at the lewd description. He doesn’t mean to, doesn’t mean to stare at rains legs in his lap as if they’re the most interesting thing in the world. As if the worn sweatpants contained the secrets to his personal dilemma.

“You ok swissy?” Rain stopped, putting his snack on the side coffee table. He dusted off his pants before nudging the multi ghouls stomach with his knee.

“Yeah, completely. Why?”

“You just look uncomfortable, if that was too much I’ll tone it down”

Rain drags himself closer to Swiss, playfully attempting to cuddle into his side while Swiss tries not to look like he’s actually pouting.

“It’s not that, you’re fine”

“Well it’s obviously something, you can tell me anything”

Swiss nervously chewed on his lip, internally debating with him. It’s not like it should be embarrassing, he was new, as everyone else was. But a weird part of him burned with shame even in front of rain, who he knew he could trust.

“I’ve just .. never kissed anyone” Swiss mumbled, pushing rains legs off of him while rain moved sit up straighter.

Rain gave a small chuckle, looking at Swiss with confusion, “really? No one?” Rain asked, in borderline disbelief. It’s not like there was anything wrong with it, but with how confident Swiss acts and how he seems to flirt with anything that walks, rain was more than sure that Swiss had bedded at least half of the pack by now.

It was a bit cute that Swiss seemed so nervous. The usually ever bold ghoul reduced to nervous fidgeting just over rain talking about kissing dew and mountain.

“Yeah it’s stupid, I’m sorry-“

Swiss is quickly cut off by rain reaching up to plant a chaste kiss upon Swiss’ lips. It’s small, barely any movement besides the brush of skin on skin, but rain pulls back with a small wet smack while Swiss stares at him wide eyed.

“There! Now you’ve kissed someone” Swiss’ face quickly reddened while rain gives him a cocky grin at his flustered state. It’s not much, he shouldn’t be at a loss for words but rain tasted like salt and the lemonade that sat next to him and Swiss couldn’t help but feel intoxicated from the couple second interaction.

“I-“

“Yeah?”

“I- it wasn’t long enough I didn’t learn anything, you’ll have to do it again” Swiss squeaked

“You’re an idiot” rain laughed, pulling Swiss back down to kiss him until he’s dizzy.

MUSHY MAY 2024

Prompts from the awesome @forlorn-crows

I'm really late to the party for day 13 (see my name for reasons 🤷‍♀️), but I've repurposed a oneshot I wrote for the 'Just Wanted to Hear Your Voice' prompt.

Dew and Aether

Phone sex

NSFW 18+

Around 2k words

Dew is away on business helping Terzo and has been teasing his mate Aether with selfies all day.

Thanks again for the divider @ghuleh-recs

Read below and check out my other Mushy May chapters on AO3 here

Reblogs are very much appreciated, please and thank you 🖤

Aether's phone vibrated in the pocket of his uniform jacket and he studiously ignored it. He knew who it would be.

Swiss glanced over at him and smirked. The two of them were out in the city on business with Papa who was currently in an important meeting. Aether and Swiss were acting as his bodyguard bookends.

Throughout the day, Dew had been sending Aether pictures. They’d started off innocently enough. Dew and Mountain were accompanying Terzo on a trip to conduct some Clergy business in Greenland. The messages had kicked off with scenic selfies or interesting things that they’d seen on their travels. As the day had gone on though, the selfies had become a little bit more... intimate.

Swiss had figured out something was up and he’d been studying Aether's reactions every time the phone vibrated. He could tell that the multi ghoul was itching to say something about it. Papa was too engrossed in his meeting to notice, thankfully.

It was almost dinnertime and the meeting finally began to wrap up. Aether was glad they would be heading home soon because his head was starting to throb with the energy he’d used being in the human world. Humans in larger numbers were extremely draining to his quintessential self.

They got settled in the car and Swiss began the drive back to the Abbey. Aether was in the back with Papa.

“Are you going to check your messages, Aether?” Swiss said with a shit eating grin. Aether glanced up and met his eyes in the rear-view mirror. He scowled and just about managed to stop the growl that rose up. “It might be something important,” the multi ghoul said with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“It can wait,” Aether snarled.

He felt Papa’s eyes on him.

“He is right. It could be important,” Papa said, oblivious to the situation.

"It's fine, Papa," he said, feeling his annoyance rising.

Aether sank down into his seat, muttering under his breath. He turned towards the window and tried to think of something other than the bathroom mirror selfie that Dew had sent him just after lunch. He’d had his shirt pulled up, holding it between his fangs to show off his lean stomach. The hand not holding his phone had been inside his pants. The caption had read:

Prepping for later...

Viewing that picture was the moment that Aether had realised he was going to have to ignore his mate’s messages for the rest of his shift because he would have been next to useless to Papa otherwise.

He and Dew had scheduled a video call for later once Terzo and the ghouls had settled at the small abbey they were staying at.

Aether went through the motions once he was dismissed for the evening, getting changed out of his uniform and into a pair of loose blue pyjama pants. It was warm in the lair so he left his shirt off. He ate dinner with the others and then they went their separate ways.

He settled down on his bed, leaning on the pillows propped up against the wooden headboard, legs stretched out and ankles crossed.

Aether grabbed his phone and finally opened the messenger app, smirking as he scrolled through the chat. The further down he went, the more risqué the pictures became. There were a couple from the bathroom of the plane, teasing shots of bare flesh. A few more from the room he’d been allocated, the room that for some reason seemed to have an abundance of mirrors which Dew had taken full advantage of.

Another message flashed up on the screen, swiftly followed by a short video and Aether barked out a laugh.

Been too busy to play today? Pity. I see you watching me. Have had to take matters into my own hands...

The video panned over a series of polaroids that had been laid out on top of the covers of the bed in Dew's temporary room. All of them were of Aether and every single one of them was absolutely obscene.

Aether fired off his own message.

Some late night art? A little too crude for my tastes, but the subject is pretty.

The green camera icon lit up and Aether answered the call. He grinned when Dew’s face appeared, a mock frown creasing his brow.

“Well I didn’t know you were so highbrow, Aeth. I would have chosen something more classy for my travel wank bank if I’d realised. I thought you were into smut. And keep your hands off that pretty ghoul. He is mine,” he growled. "Actually, second thoughts, maybe you should use your hands on him."

Aether laughed and Dew grinned back at him.

“It’s nice to see your face, Dew. I was getting a little bored of looking at your abs.”

Dew snorted and he shifted position.

“You missed me really. How was your day?”

The screen pixelated and then froze. Aether thought the call would drop but it came back to life again.

“Bad signal?” Aether asked. Dew rolled his eyes and nodded. “It would have been okay if I hadn’t been distracted all day. But I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Poor baby,” Dew said, mischief sparking in his eyes. “Did my holiday snaps make you lose your concentration?”

Aether sighed.

“Maybe.”

Dew frowned when he heard the weariness in Aether’s voice.

“What time is it there?” he asked.

“Just after nine.”

“It’s after midnight here. The others are asleep.”

The screen froze again and the call finally dropped. Aether cursed but almost immediately got an incoming call from a foreign number. He answered.

“Relying on the old fashioned technology, huh?”

Dew laughed down the line, husky and quiet.

“Apparently so.” He sighed and Aether heard him shifting position. He must have been sitting on his bed too. “Anyway, what are you wearing?”

Aether snorted.

“Not much.”

“Send me a pic.”

“More fuel for your wank bank?” he said dryly.

“Humour me.” Aether stretched out his arm and took a selfie, sending it to Dee's phone. The other ghoul chuckled after a moment when it finally came through. "Ugh the internet is so slow here. Oh, I like those pants. Do you know what would make them better though?”

Aether heard the sounds of fabric rustling and Dew hissed. He smirked, knowing exactly what Dew was doing and the semi that he’d had since he’d opened up their chat turned to a raging hard on when he pictured it.

“No, Dew, what would make them better?”

“If you came in them like a horny little teenager.”

“And how exactly am I going to accomplish that, Dew?” Aether said, voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m sure I can guide you through it. Maybe if you do exactly as I say, the next picture I get will be messier.”

Aether huffed a breath and Dew took in a shaky one.

“What are you doing, Dewdrop? It sounds like you’re struggling a bit with something there.”

“That would be telling,” he said. “Put the phone on speaker.” Aether did as he was told and put it down on the bedside table. “Now, those hands? Put them to good use. I want you to trail them over your skin. One of them is going to touch your body the way I touch it. You’re going to imagine that’s my hand and my claws raking along your torso. You’re going to be gentle and you’re going to be slow.”

Aether put his right hand on his neck, tilting his head to the side and stroking the skin reverently, fingers trailing along his jaw and down the column of his throat.

“What about my other hand, Dew?” he asked hoarsely.

Dewdrop chuckled down the phone.

“I want that other hand inside those pants and wrapped around that fat cock of yours.”

“So demanding,” Aether said as he trailed his left hand down over his scarred pectoral.

He skimmed over his abs and his hip, sliding his fingers under the waistband of the loose pyjama pants.

He closed his eyes and sighed when his hand closed around his cock. It was throbbing in time to his heart by now and he gripped it, giving it a long, lazy stroke.

“Tell me what it feels like,” Dew said.

Aether concentrated on the feel of his calloused palm against his velvety flesh. He groaned as he twisted his fist around the head and then moved it back down again to the base a few times.

“So fucking good,” he breathed out.

“Where’s that other hand?” Dew said shortly.

Aether was circling his nipple with his claws right then and he moved his hand to stroke along the skin of his stomach.

“On my stomach, stroking. Feels nice.”

Dew hummed his approval, breath coming out heavier now, pants and groans coming through the phone.

“I can’t wait too much longer. You need to hurry up. Grip yourself tighter. Imagine it’s me, imagine my fangs on your skin as I’m stroking you.” Aether took a shuddering breath and it hitched as he pictured Dew doing just that. He bit his bottom lip and a little snarl escaped him. “Oh yeah, like that. Make yourself feel good, so fucking good.” Dew gasped and made the whining sound that he often did when he was about to lose it. Aether could feel himself getting closer to the edge by now too, sweat had broken out on his skin and his heels dug into the covers below him. He groaned again. “Put that other hand to better use.” Dew’s voice was strained now, barely above a whisper. “Use it on your balls. Squeeze them, do it the way I do.”

Aether did as Dew said and reached inside the pants, left hand working himself faster. He was almost there, but when he grabbed his balls with his right hand and squeezed, hard, the effect was instant. It tipped him right over. He gritted his teeth in a snarl and arched his back, ropes of cum pulsing out of him as he worked himself through it.

Through the pounding of blood in his ears he heard Dewdrop snarl as he finished himself off also. He heard his name on the other ghoul’s lips and he huffed out a breath as he came back down to earth.

“Fuck,” he gasped, chuckling when he glanced down at himself and saw the wet patch at the front of the flannel.

He really did feel like a horny teenager.

Aether shifted back onto his elbows, tipping his head back and looking up at the ceiling.

“I need that picture now,” Dew's voice cut through his post orgasmic haze.

He sounded wrecked.

Aether grabbed his phone and took another selfie, the same position as the one before.

He hit send and sighed.

“Happy?”

It took a moment but Dew groaned.

“Look at that. Dirty boy. I love it.”

Dew cursed under his breath and the sound of a door opening drifted out of the phone.

“Fucking hell, Dew, can you keep it down?” Mountain's gruff, sleep addled voice cut through. “Oh my fucking Satan! What the fuck, Dew? I need to bleach my fucking eyeballs!”

Dewdrop was cackling and Aether could only imagine the scene that Mountain had just walked into. Dew, naked on his bed, cock probably still in his hand and surrounded by his private collection of pictures of Aether. He snorted a laugh and heard the door slamming.

“Maybe you should fucking knock first, Mountain!” Dew yelled after him. He sighed heavily and Aether yawned. “I should let you rest. I could hear how tired you were just before. Has Papa given you the day off tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m going to sleep in. I think I feel the need to take some arty photographs during the day though,” he said with a grin.

Dewdrop laughed and the sound gave Aether peace.

“Well, I look forward to seeing your creative side. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow so I’ll be sure to sneak a peek when I can.”

“Good night, Dewdrop,” Aether said sleepily.

“Night, sweet. Love you,” Dew said. “Oh, by the way, leave those pants on to sleep in. I want you reminded of me as soon as you wake up. Make sure you mess them up again in the morning.”

Aether chuckled.

“You’re such a filthy little shit, Dew.”

“I know," he said unashamedly. "You love it.”

He hung up and Aether grinned. He couldn’t wait until Dew was back. He had some things in mind to repay the favour already.

Mushy May Day 16

(bonus prompt 10) "shut up i'm taking care of you"

Cw's: mental health problems. isolation, self deprecation, issues eating, non-sexual nudity (showering together). but it is a mushy prompts list, so all ends well!

notes; this one was like a mind flayer and took control over my hands and suddenly there 1,2k words of hurt/comfort, my fave. thanks as always to @forlorn-crows for putting together the prompts!

Rain didn’t… know what happened. The day before, everything was fine. Normal even. They ate their dinner with the pack, played on their acoustic with Dew, and then went to bed. It was an easy, simple night. They laid in their bed, exhaustion heavy in their muscles, but their mind raced.

They knew they were okay. Logically they knew the pack cared so deeply about them. Logic, unfortunately, was not winning the battle tonight. They felt the first round of tears sting and scrubbed viciously at their eyes, their breathing shaky. Their mind screamed at them to hide away, isolate from their pack until they were nothing more than a nameless ghoul. No one would notice, they figured. 

But, logically, everyone would notice. They knew logically. 

It started with a quiet knock in the morning. A little later than when they usually woke up, but a sleepless night forced the exhaustion to seep further down into their bones. The knock wasn’t persistent, just someone coming to wake them up for breakfast. Judging from the footfall after they knocked, it was most likely either Aurora or Cirrus. Rain opted with Cirrus.

Twenty minutes went by before the next round of knocking started, followed by Aether’s soft voice. He mentioned that they left a plate for them in the oven, and that he was there for them if they wanted to talk. That they all were. They curled into themselves further, throwing the blanket over their eyes to hide even farther. Had they really done this so much that the pack knew their patterns? It hadn’t even been an hour and already they were being a nuisance to their pack. 

The day wasted away. They only got up to use the bathroom before crawling back to their bed. The bedding felt heavy against their skin, the pillow somehow greasy, but it was all they had in the moment. It felt like they were in fight or flight, and their body and mind couldn’t pick an option. 

A few others came by throughout the morning and into the afternoon. Most would knock, call out, and then leave when they got no response. They heard Phantom walk by at some point, and the young quint didn’t knock nor call out. Rain thought they had left quietly before they quietly sighed, just barely loud enough that Rain could hear, before finally walking away. They felt a fresh batch of tears well in their eyes at the disappointment obvious in the quint.

It was nearing the evening of the day. Rain stayed in their fetal position most of the day, their body aching in ways that were comforting but ultimately awful. They felt cold, a type that couldn’t be fixed with blankets. Their stomach groaned in need of food but they felt nauseous at the thought of eating or drinking anything. They had flitted in and out of sleep for most of the day, but the exhaustion made its way down through their bones and into their core. 

They were woken up from their nth nap of the day by the doorknob turning and the door opening. They smelt before they heard Mountain enter, the earthy smell of sage and rosemary flooding their room. They held their breath and kept their body stone still, scared of what he was here to do. They felt guilt immediately for assuming the worst in the gentle giant, but kept still. 

Instead of anything malicious, he sat down at the end of the bed and placed his hand against their calf. He messaged at the skin. It was so warm. Their eyes stared directly ahead of them to the blank wall, not daring to look at him.

“Rain,” he quietly called out. They didn’t respond. 

He sighed and took his hand away to stand. They violently flinched when he scooped his arms under them and picked them up bridal style. They shut their eyes tight.

“We’re going to wash up,” Mountain pulled the mounds of blankets off and away from them, the dull thud as they fell sharp against their ears, “and then try and get some food into you. Does that sound good, starfish?” 

Rain kept their eyes shut. Mountain took it as a yes and walked towards the bathroom. 

He sat them on the toilet and they slouched heavily until their head hit his stomach. He twisted to turn the water on before he focused his attention back towards them. With a bit of maneuvering, the two managed to get their clothes off, Rain being very little help. Mountain said nothing as he lowered Rain onto their shower seat, the spray of the water forcing a heavy sigh out of them. He shucked his shirt to the ground and stepped in himself, just to the side of them. They hesitated every movement as he helped get them clean; fingers twitching when he asked for them to lift their arm, head locked in place when he pointed the sprayer towards their hair. Everything built up higher and higher in their small body until it came crumbling down when he massaged the shampoo into their curls, his blunt fingers rubbing soothing circles into their scalp. Their face, deadpan and void of emotion before, broke into a deep frown as the tears that teased them all day finally fell down their face, an ugly sob coming deep from their chest. They held their head in their hands while Mountain continued to lather the soap through their hair. They leaned into his touch, suds spreading to his abdomen. He kicked up a purr that vibrated through their ears to their brain. They sobbed harder, loud whines and hiccups and guttural cries.

“I’m-” they sucked in a harsh breath, “I’m sor- sorry-”

“None of that,” Mountain spoke softly but firm, voice unwavering. 

“I was being- being so selfish.” They argued. 

He shook his head. “It happens, starfish.”

“And now I’m f-forcing you to deal with me-” they were interrupted by him leaning down, just enough for them to see him through tears, and his smile was so gentle, so caring. So genuine. It made them fall harder into him.

“None of that.” Mountain stood back up and leaned over to grab the spray. They let his firm hand tip their head back as he began washing the suds out of their hair. “I’m taking care of you.”

The rest of the shower consisted of Mountain rubbing conditioner through their hair as their sobbing died down into something quiet. He helped them dry off and put into clean clothing, boxers and a shirt that was definitely not theirs. He opened the bathroom door and their nose twitched. It led them to their nightstand, where a bowl of oatmeal sat. Mountain sat them on their bed, the covers and pillows no longer feeling heavy but warm and comfortable, and crawled in himself. He whispered kind words as they carefully ate, the bowl warm against their thighs. They set the bowl back down after a few bites, stomach still upset from their mental turmoil of the day. Mountain didn’t complain, though. He praised them as he tucked the two of them in.

Rain hid themselves away into his chest, arms cautiously wrapped around his waist. He purred loud enough for the next room over to hear. They rubbed their head against him in an attempt to scent him, his scent lulling them into a soft mindset and heavy eyes.

“Mount,” they slurred into his skin. He hummed in question.

“Thank you.” 

He shifted a hand to their still damp hair and began scratching at their horns. They began to purr as well. 

Mushy May Day Ten - Quiet Nights

Ship: Swiss/Phantom

Notes: Watching fireflies. I had a silly thought about what if Phantom’s freckles could glow in the dark. Prompt list by @forlorn-crows. See prompt list here

Word Count:  406

Read on AO3 or below the cut

“Whatcha thinking about Bug?” Swiss ruffles Phantom’s hair to get the younger ghoul’s attention. They’re both sitting out on the lawn watching the sun go down when Swiss notices that Phantom has zoned out.

“Do you think the deep sea creatures get lonely down there?”

Swiss laughs, caught off guard. “What?”

“You know, the bathypelagic zone where it’s really dark. Do you think they get lonely?”

“You’ve been watching sea documentaries with Rain again haven't you? I mean, probably not. They probably like it down there. Plus they’ve got that glowy thing they can do-”

“Bioluminescence!” Phantom says proudly.

“Yeah! They can use that to find each other.”

Phantom seems to consider this for a moment before blurting out, “Fireflies!”

“Hmm? Yeah fireflies can glow too.”

“No, fireflies!” Phantom points at the air in front of them until Swiss chuckles in understanding.

“Ahh. I hadn't realized they’d come out yet. It’s still a bit early in the season.”

They sit in silence for a while watching the glowing insects flash their lights like little twinkling stars. Swiss is pretty sure Phantom has started to stare off into space again when he chirps,

“I can glow too.”

He says it so casually that Swiss is sure he misheard.

“You sure can Bug, my little star.”

Only when he sees Phantom grinning at him from his peripheral does he turn his head.

“Holy shit.”

Phantom can in fact glow. More specifically his freckles are lit up, dotting his face in little sparks of light. They cross his face and bare shoulders, exposed by the tank top he stole from Swiss, like constellations. His vitiligo backdrops the lights like a swirling nebula.

“Have you always been able to do this?” Swiss asks, a little incredulous.

“Yeah.” Phantom shrugs.

“And you just now thought to mention it?”

Phantom shrugs again.

“You’re just full of surprises, my little lightning bug.”

He pulls the quintessence ghoul close and kisses each of the freckles on his nearest cheek. When Phantom giggles and presents the other side of his face, Swiss kisses him there too. After, Swiss squints.

“I think I missed one.”

“Where…oh!”

Swiss cups Phantom's chin to pull him close and kisses the freckle on his bottom lip.

Phantom blushes, and his glowing freckles twinkle. “I think you missed another one.” He points to the purse of his lips and smiles shyly.

“Well I can’t forget that one can I?” Swiss grins.

Hi, hello, it's me again! How are you? I have a rather odd request (at least from my perspective) that I don't actually see much of.

Trans ftm Dew x Swiss? Pretty please? I haven't seen much of it, at least with Swiss that is

-🌟

Hi hi! Sorry it’s been a while, but I’ve saved this for mushy may!

I’m doing well my icon. Not an odd request at all! (But I do love and encourage odd) and obv we love trans ghouls over here

Day 8- sex turning into making love - Swissdew

As always thank you to @forlorn-crows for the prompts and @ghuleh-recs for the banner (:

Warnings for a small amount of degro. This is smut. But obv Swiss is super sweet at the end ok I promise it turns into fluff

There were certain things about Swiss that dew tended to crave.

A sick need for a harsh and loving hand, to be made to feel small, lesser. To be put out of his own head and taken care of when he felt especially out of control of himself. Dew liked to fight for it, so he himself didn’t have to admit he needed help. And Swiss always knew exactly what he needed. He was always there to force him into submission when dew couldn’t disassemble that roadblock himself.

“Maybe if you didn’t whine like a bitch droplet I wouldn’t have to treat you like one” Swiss laughed, watching as dew squirmed when Swiss ran two fingers along his folds. The slightest touch to his clit made him clench and screw his eyes shut, sensitive and already abused.

It’s how Swiss always got him before allowing dew the privilege of being actually fucked. Writhing, begging to be full but shying away from any contact because it was always borderline too much. Dew loved it, needed to be forced out of his head and put at Swiss’ mercy in order to genuinely stop thinking for an hour or two.

“Think you’ve earned it yet?” Swiss coos, sucking on dews release that threatened to drip down his fingers. “Are you dumb enough to get my cock yet baby boy?”

“Please-“ dew moaned, strangled and barely coherent.

Swiss can’t deny him like this. Hes pretty, spread out and desperate. Small tears cling to his lashes and threaten to fall down his face as he digs his fists into the bed sheets when Swiss finally pushes in.

There’s always a strange sense of pride that wells in Swiss’ chest when he has dew in his bed. He’s more than glad dew trusts him enough to let go of his own ego and inhibitions to allow Swiss to be in control. He deserves to be taken care of, even if dew usually insisted he enjoyed being somewhat of a loner when it came to needing anything.

“God you’re beautiful like this dew” Swiss mumbles when he bottoms out before he can think twice about it. His tone is calm, loving, a gentleness that isn’t expected and leaves dew feeling dizzier than he already was.

“What?”

“You’re just -“ Swiss starts, staring down at dew with what can only be described as infatuation.

The harsh grip on dews hips soften, thumbs soothing over the more than likely bruised skin. His hands more than engulf his waist, just slightly kneading into where they hold him.

“I love you, you know that?” Swiss pulls out, watching as dew gasps and throws a palm over his mouth to stifle his whine. He leans over to kiss dew on the chest, trailing up along his neck. Dews thighs are pushed up against his abdomen, practically bending him in half as Swiss starts to fuck him in earnest.

“Kiss me- Swiss please need your lips” dew whimpers as his hands tangle in Swiss’ locs for some sense of grounding. Swiss happily obliges, capturing dews mouth with his own.

Their lips slot together perfectly, dew tasting of smoke and spice as he always does. Something about the neediness in how sloppy dew forces his mouth onto Swiss’ makes his stomach do flips, a sweet tinge of desperation in his panting breaths when they have to pull apart.

Swiss fucks him slow, hitting him deep but showing dew a gentle courtesy he knows he doesn’t get extremely often.

“Faster” dew cries, Swiss can feel a gush of slick around his cock when dew clenches down.

“Wanna take my time with you droplet, let me savor having you like this”

Mushy May Day 16: Cooking A Special Recipe

Cumulus, Mountain, and Dew introduce Aeon to the joys of kahlua chocolate chip cookies.

Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and thank you to @ghuleh-recs for making the divider! <3

"Hey, junie, look what we got while we were out shopping!"

Mountain and Aeon both look up from the round of Mario Kart they're playing, Aeon cursing under their breath as their Toad crashes into a wall, the 'wrong way' sign flashing over his head.

Dew's stuck his head into the living room from the kitchen, holding up a brown glass bottle with a red and yellow label, shaking it. The full bottle sloshes, and Mountain perks up. "Oh shit, you got kahlua. I know what that means."

"Fuck yeah, you do," Dew crows, eyes wide.

Aeon's brow furrows. "It's ten in the morning on a Thursday, are we starting to drink this early?"

Mountain reaches over, rubbing Aeon's shoulder. "No, petunia, it's not for drinking, at least, not right now. We're making cookies."

"Oh, fuck yeah, cookies," Aeon pauses their game, spamming the button with such urgency that Mountain cackles, standing from the couch. "Is Cue helping?"

"It's her recipe," Dew says, leading the two other ghouls to the kitchen. There are grocery bags on the kitchen counter, things the Abbey can't grow or make themselves. Semi sweet chocolate chips, butterscotch pudding mix, the thick glass bottle of rum and coffee liqueur that Dew sets down with a clink.

Cumulus looks up from where she's sorting things in the fridge, hair tied back. "Boys," she greets the three of them. "You helping make cookies?"

"Unless that means you have too many cooks in the kitchen,'' Mountain says, reaching to grab the big bag of all-purpose flour from the top shelf of the cupboard. "Though I don't think Aeon's ever had your cookies before."

"You're in for a treat then, bunny. If it's too many people," she says, "I'll just kick Dew out."

"Hey!" he protests, but there's laughter in his voice; he knows she's teasing.

Aeon glances over at her as she pulls out the carton of eggs. "Can you get the cup and spoon measures out of the drawer by the sink?" Cumulus asks, moving to preset the oven. Aeon nods, scrambling to comply and moving out of Dew's way as he grabs bowls and a rubber spatula.

Mountain fetches baking powder ("Not soda, right, hummingbird?" "Yep, soda makes them flatter than I want them." "Like Dewey's ass?" "I can hear you!") and salt. He takes the measures from Aeon and shows them how to level the measuring cups of flour, dumping them into a bowl with the pudding mix. Aeon adds the spoons of baking powder and salt.

Dew takes care of the wet ingredients, both types of sugar and softened butter and vanilla and a healthy pour of kahlua. Cumulus takes the bottle when he's done, slyly pouring half a shot for all four of them.

"Add a little bit at a time," Mountain directs Aeon, taking the wet bowl from Dew. "I'll stir."

Aeon nods, biting their tongue in concentration, trying not to spill the dry ingredients. Bit by bit, the dough starts to form, and Cumulus adds the chocolate chips, all four of them trying to be slick and snatch a few while the other three aren't looking. Inevitably they catch each other stealing chunks of dough, cackling at the absurdity of trying to be sneaky.

Once the dough's ready, Cumulus goes to one of the cabinet drawers, pulling out an ice cream scoop . "Mount, there's a baking sheet with parchment paper on the counter, could you grab that for me?"

"'Course," he hums, already turning to grab it for her. Cumulus scoops the dough onto the baking sheet, evenly arranging them in rows. Once the sheet's full, she slides it into the oven.

"Alright, ten minutes on the clock," she hums, turning to gather the shotglasses and passing them out. "Cheers."

They down their shots before rinsing out the glasses and cleaning up the dirty dishes. Mountain keeps an eye on the stove clock as the kitchen fills with the scent of baked goods. "How long do you think it'll take for Swiss to come throw himself on top of these?" Mountain asks.

"I don't think hiding them on top of the fridge will work this time," Cumulus hums. "I mean. It'll keep Aurora and Dew from getting them at least."

"Wait." Dew's brow furrows, a look of distress falling over his features. "Is that where they went last time? I thought they were all gone."

"Oh, Dewey," Cumulus coos, laughing. "Oh, Dew, I'm so sorry."

"Cue!" He shouts, playing up his upset.

Mountain ruffles his hair, and the fire ghoul sputters, frantically trying to fix his hair. "Don't worry, firefly, we get first dibs."

Dew smiles smugly, settling back against the counter until the stove clock says it's been ten minutes. He gets up, turning to Aeon, leveling them with a serious look. "Please don't ever do what I'm about to do, I'm a fire ghoul, I don't need a hotpad. You will burn yourself if you try."

He opens the oven, pulling the tray out with his bare hands and taking the spatula from Cumulus, moving the finished cookies from the tray to a plate. They're round little things, golden brown and the chocolate chips gooey.

Cumulus waves her hand casually, using her wind to cool the cookies til they're just on the right side of warm. "Aeon, you get first pick. Enjoy."

She grins as Aeon picks one, tentatively taking a bite. The others all watch, grinning as their eyes go wide, a nearly pornographic moan slipping from their lips. "Holy fuck, Cue," they say with their mouth still full.

"Yeah?" she laughs, taking her own cookie. Dew and Mountain are quick to snatch one for themselves.

"That's really fucking good," they say, taking another big bite of cookie.

"They are," Dew says, biting off nearly half of his cookie. His eyes flutter shut. "Fuck. Just as good as I remember."

Mountain makes a similar noise to Aeon as he chews. "Yep. Uh-huh. We need to find a spot to hide these so they last for longer than an afternoon."

There's thudding footsteps, and Swiss skids on socked feet into the doorframe. "I smell kahlua cookies," he pants, eyes wide and a little crazed, a grin splitting his face.

Cumulus shares a look with Mountain and Dew, and all four of them burst into laughter.

Mushy May Day 15: Painting On Each Other

Cirrus kills some time waiting for band practice with Swiss

Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and to @ghuleh-recs for the divider <3

is this one a stretch to fit the prompt? yes

The worst part of practice, Cirrus decides, are the sectionals. Where Papa splits the pack into groups by instrument, works with them one by one while the rest of them are meant to practice quietly while they wait.

Papa's working with the rhythm section, Mountain and Rain helping him get Aeon up to speed. Which is all fine and good, they've got a tour coming up, but it's been twenty minutes and Cirrus is bored. She's tired of practicing her individual parts, there are no massive changes to the setlist from the last leg, she knows them like the back of her hand.

Her gaze drifts to Swiss's podium, the multighoul sitting and letting his long legs dangle off of the edge. His guitar's in his lap, a pretty black thing, all shiny and curves. His fingers are moving, playing something that's decidedly not one of the setlist songs. Every once in a while, Papa glances back from the other side of the practice room, and Cirrus watches as his fingers change chords without a moment's notice into something more familiar.

Cirrus sighs and hits the power button on her keyboard, hopping down from her podium. She hauls herself up to sit next to Swiss on his.

He doesn't turn, a flash of gold as he looks at her from the corner of his eye. Swiss doesn't stop playing. "Hiya, whisp," he whispers, fingers still moving softly over the strings. "Bored?"

"Mhm," she hums, feather tipped tail swaying behind her as she watches as Aeon stumbles over a difficult section. Their face furrows in concentration, determined to get better. "Kid needs this, but damn, I don't miss struggling like that."

"They're not struggling, they're getting there," Swiss says, fingers never stopping. It's a sweet melody, easy to listen to, pleasant on Cirrus's ears.

"I mean, I really can't say much about they're doing, I've never touched a guitar in my life," Cirrus jokes, knocking her shoulder gently against Swiss's. His tail bats at her as his fingers slip, a sour note ringing out.

"Knock it off," he laughs, cheeks dimpled with his signature grin. Cirrus rolls her eyes, but there's no heat in it.

The sectionals drag on, Papa still working with Mountain, Aeon, and Rain. Cirrus pulls a pair of pens from her pocket, ones she's supposed to have to make notes in her sheet music, but she knows everything front to back after all of the tours she has under her belt. She only really has them for the formality of it.

Swiss, ever incapable of sitting completely still when he's at ease, sways his tail behind him, the spade tip padding against Cirrus's side. It's pierced several times, gold rings threaded through along one edge, glinting in the light. It curls loosely around Cirrus's wrist, and she glances up at him.

He isn't paying attention, and Cirrus hums along to his playing as she puts the silver pen back in her pocket, uncapping the gold. She brings the tip of the pen to the spade of his tail and Swiss yelps. He wasn't expecting anything touching his tail, especially not something as wet and cold as the ink.

They both freeze, Mountain and Copia glancing over at them before turning back to the sectional.

"What are you doing?" Swiss whispers, tail still wound around Cirrus's wrist.

She shrugs, her grey eyes meeting his. "Bored. Sorry, should have asked."

His lips quirk up in a smile. "I mean, knock yourself out, you just startled me."

Cirrus gives him a little purr, leaning in to rub her temple against his shoulder before she starts to draw. Nothing fancy or complicated, simple geometric patterns that span over both sides of spade of his tail, shiny gold ink that matches the hoops threaded through his piercings.

Swiss watches out of the corner of his eye, still playing softly, fingers on the strings. "'S pretty," he hums, keeping his tail as still as possible to give her an easier time, feeling the drag of the pen nib over his skin. He lets her draw until Copia finishes the rhythm sectional, and she scrambles back to her platform for her own turn.

He wears her designs on his tail for the rest of the day, admiring the way the ink looks in the light.

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."

Mushy May Day 14 - Silly Baby Talk (Aether/Dew)

Thank you for giving us Mushy May again this year, @forlorn-crows and thank you @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!

Mushy May Day 14 - Silly baby talk, Aether/Dew, no warnings, 701 words. The return of Chicken Nugget!!

Aether closes the door to the bedroom with a weary sigh. He’d just finished a double shift in the infirmary, working through the night and was only just getting back at nearly noon the next day. He makes a beeline for the shower, stopping at the bed where he’s greeted by the sight of Chicken Nugget, their little orange rescue kitten, curled up in a pile of blankets and fast asleep. He leans down to plant a kiss on the kitten’s tiny head, receiving a sleepy little mew in response, before snuggling back down into the soft blanket.

Aether showers and dresses quickly, exhausted and very eager to join Chicken Nugget for afternoon naptime. He’s finishing toweling off his hair when he hears their bedroom door open and shut. Dew must be back from band practice.

As he makes his way to the bathroom door he hears what sounds like the fire ghoul’s voice. He can’t exactly make out what Dew’s saying, but he’s talking with a high-pitched voice in what Aether can only describe as baby talk. A tone he has most certainly never heard coming from the lips of his fiery little mate. He pushes the door open quietly, and hangs back, watching.

There he finds Dew kneeling on the floor and bent over at the edge of their bed, nuzzling his nose into the soft fur of Chicken Nugget’s belly while the little kitten watches him curiously with sleepy eyes.

“Ohhh my cute little nugget, I missed you so,” Dew coos, high-pitched and sweet. He stops his nuzzles in favor of delivering a string of loud smooches to the little kitten’s tummy. Dew coos again, telling Chicken Nugget just how cute he is in that same little baby talk voice. He scratches under the kitten’s chin with a finger before booping him on his little pink nose.

“I love you, sweet little nugget,” Dew says, and Aether could swear that “love” came out sounding a lot more like “wuv.”

Aether has never seen anything cuter in all his life.

But as much as he wants to keep watching this rare little display, he steps out into the room, clearing his throat to let Dew know he’s not alone.

Dew and Chicken Nugget both whip their heads towards Aether, wide-eyed and startled. Aether can’t help but laugh out loud at the similarity of their expressions. 

“If you make fun of me, I’ll kill you,” Dew says, completely deadpan.

Aether places a hand over his heart. “Are you kidding me? Dew, I think I might freaking cry. That was the cutest thing I think I’ve ever seen in my life.” He pretends to wipe a tear from his eye.

Dew grumbles. “Sounds like you’re making fun of me…” He bends down to scoop up the little kitten into his arms, pressing their faces together. “What do you think, CN, is mean old Aether making fun of us?”

Chicken Nugget reaches out with a tiny orange paw to boop Dew on the nose in response.

Aether laughs, “Sorry Dew, looks like he’s taking my side on this one.” 

“Wow, are you two little shits ganging up on me now?” Dew asks in mock outrage.

Aether gasps, covering Chicken Nugget’s fuzzy ears with his hands. “Dew! Don’t cuss in front of our kit!” he jokingly scolds the little fire ghoul with a laugh. 

Dew waves him off, but Aether slings his arm around his shoulders, pulling him to his side. He reaches out to scratch Chicken Nugget behind the ears until he’s purring away happily in Dew’s hands. 

“He really is like our kit, isn’t he Aeth?” Dew contemplates later, snuggling into Aether’s side on top of the blankets. Beside his head, Chicken Nugget kneads at the pillow, very happily getting ready for naptime round two.

“Yeah,” Aether agrees, pressing a soft kiss to Dew’s forehead, then leaning over to give the same to Chicken Nugget. “Think he takes after you more than anything though.”

Dew hums in agreement, and Aether pulls him in close, already falling asleep to the sound of a purring kitten and the warmth of his mate, happily holding his perfect little family in his arms.

Mushy May Day 15

Painting on each other

Pairing; Dewdrop/Aeon

Notes; Welcome to the halfway point! Aeon uses they/them pronouns. thanks as always to @forlorn-crows for the prompts list!

Aeon was always mesmerized by all the ghoul’s tattoos. From Rain’s tiny one’s to Dew’s extravagant pieces, they decided early on into their earth life that they needed to join the club. The nights they were wrapped around someone else’s limbs, they’d trace and map out the ink lines that ran down their partner’s arms and body, committing them to memory.

Their problem, as they’ve confided to Dewdrop on multiple occasions, was how they wanted their tattoos. Any meaning behind them was easy, it was the placement. Looks. They didn’t want to travel so far out of the abbey to a tattoo parlor just to regret the placement. So when Dew found an ad for them, he hatched an idea.

“Star?” Dew knocked on the door, hands behind his back. When he got a murmur of confirmation, he stepped into the room and met the eyes of a very sleepy ghoul, still waking up.

“What time is it?” Aeon slurred and squinted up at Dew.

“It is…” Dew peeked over at the clock and smiled, “it is one in the afternoon.”

Aeon sat up in bed with a disgruntled groan, stretching out their arms. They murmured a quiet curse at the time and stared him down.

“Did I miss something?” They ran their eyes down his figure and pouted, pointing towards him. “What are you hiding?”

“A gift.” He strutted over with a playful sway in his hips until he was standing right beside them. “For you.”

Their pout grew suspicious and tilted their head. “Why’d you do that?”

He shrugged with an easy smile. “Thought you’d like it. Could be a bonding thing for us.”

“Is it a sex thing?” They questioned.

He laughed and shook his head, bending down just slightly in the process. “No, bug, it’s not a sex thing. Here.”

He pulled his arms out from behind him and with a healthy pause in between, Aeon’s eyes lit up and they gasped dramatically, no longer sleepy. They made grabby hands for the product and Dew could never deny the quint anything.

“Holy shit!” They held the pack of tattoo markers with a grip that could rival Aether’s, turning the package around to further inspect. “These are awesome!”

“You know about them?” Dewdrop couldn’t stop smiling.

“Well, no,” Aeon faltered just slightly but began ripping into the cardboard with the same enthusiasm as before, “but I do now!”

Dew sat down right next to them and continued to watch as they kicked their blankets away to set their prize down. Once the pack was fully dumped out, they grabbed the black marker and paused.

“What’s up, buggy?” Dew tilted his head as they worried their lip between the teeth. Their gaze flickered between the marker, Dew’s arms, and Dew’s eyes. He could already see the question.

“Can I try them on your arm?” They asked, eyes wide.

Dew’s smile grew wider and he grabbed a marker of his own. “Only if I can draw on your leg.”

“Deal.” Aeon uncapped the marker and took Dew’s arm into their hands, a plan already brewed and steeped. Dew used his free hand and pushed their shorts out of his way as he began the same process.

They both left the room an hour later covered in half hearted doodles and ideas. Aeon showed Dewdrop a tentative sketch of what they wanted and with careful consideration and drawing, the two found a perfect spot for it. Dew was covered in swirls of black and blue, a rogue bat or rabbit or any other animal scattered across his skin. Aside from the, what Aeon called "the perfect tattoo," they were covered in geometric shapes, things that Dewdrop has been experimenting with in terms of design.

Seeing the smile on the young quint’s face as they examined the ink with Swiss, who awed and oo'ed at their markings, he knew they’d be doing this again soon.

Mushy May '24 Day 15: Painting on each other

WC: 340

Relationship: Dewdrop/Rain

Read under the cut or on AO3.

What is now their little custom had started out very differently; with Rain idly running his cold fingertips over Dewdrop’s bare back one night—both of them as relaxed as a ghoul can be.

The water ghoul traced invisible shapes on his mate’s warm skin, pressing a claw to it now and then to watch it redden. Rain didn’t know why he loved doing that so much, but he did, and Dewdrop loved indulging him.

“What’s that?” Rain asked him once, and it evolved into a guessing game that would end with an ‘I love you’ written on Dewdrop’s back and finished off with a kiss to the nape of his neck every single time.

Years later, it’s barely the same.

Rain hums as he dips the tip of a thin brush into a little vial filled with black paint. He looks over his canvas—planning. The fire ghoul lays under him half asleep, waiting for the gentle touches of his mate’s brush on his skin to lull him into it fully.

Rain goes with his gut. He puts his brush down just under the back of Dewdrop’s ear and watches it twitch before sliding down over his neck, shoulder blades, spine, lover back—leaving a simple, but beautiful swirl in his wake. He pauses next to the base of the fire ghoul’s tail, nearly wrapping the paint around it.

He goes back up and makes the long line branch out into more swirls until Dewdrop looks as if he’s been covered by vines. Rain picks up color, then, and makes it all look real as his mate sleeps.

The water ghoul loves seeing his art on something else he considers an artwork, loves having Dewdrop all to himself, loves having his trust and permission for marking him. Whether it’s just paint or bite and claw marks or cum or whatever else the water ghoul would want to cover him in.

He always tells Rain that he must settle on a design—he wants it tattooed, carved into his skin forever.