Okay It Was Well Past Time To Give Aether 🍌 His Turn In The Rainbow Spotlight

Some people had questions for the new era about how to tell the ghouls apart. So I made a handy flow chart! I hope this helps (:

Mushy May Day 14: "Shut Up, I'm Taking Care Of You"

Mountain makes Cumulus tea when she's coming down with a bug.

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

Another bonus prompt today!

It's early, sky starting to shift from black to blue, the promise of a new day. Mountain pads into the kitchen, having already been up for a while, still. There's a basket of vegetables fresh harvested from the greenhouse tucked under his arm. He heads to the sink, washing them before setting them aside to dry.

Mountain whips to face the door when he hears a hacking, wet cough behind him. He thought he was the only ghoul awake, sun just barely beginning to peek out from over the horizon, but he was wrong. As he turns, he finds Cumulus, hair tied back and deep circles under her eyes.

"Hey, hummingbird," he says cautiously, shutting off the sink. "What're you doing up so early?"

She shrugs with one shoulder, rubbing her eyes under her glasses. "Couldn't sleep." Her voice is stuffy, and she sounds miserable.

Mountain hums, taking the kettle off of its element and filling it with water. "You don't sound so good, Cue. I know you don't like tea that much, but it might make you feel better."

She mumbles something under her breath, coughing again, before sitting at the kitchen table, covering her face with her hands.

"What was that?" Mountain asks, not turning to face her as he sets the kettle to boil, digging through one of the cabinets for a specific jar of loose leaf tea, one of his own blends.

"Said you don't need to stop what you're doing to make tea, Mount. You know I prefer-" She freezes as Mountain peers over his shoulder, an emerald green eye meeting hers, eyebrow raised

"Maybe I wanted tea," he teases, grabbing mugs and the diffusers he likes to use. "No, but seriously, hummingbird, I love you. You sound like shit. Let me make you a cup."

"Mount-"

"Cumulus, shut up, I'm taking care of you," Mountain interjects, firmly but kindly. "Let me make you tea, it sounds like your throat hurts something awful."

"It does," Cumulus sighs, slumping exhausted into the kitchen chair. "I think it's why I couldn't sleep." She coughs with a wince. Mountain nods, reaching for one of the honey jars.

"I'd imagine," Mountain says, humming low in his throat in sympathy as he spoons the tea leaves and herbs into one of the diffusers. The kettle whistles, and Cumulus jolts in her chair, laughing weakly at herself for startling. Mountain takes it off of the element, pouring the boiling water into Cumulus's favorite mug and leaving it to steep.

"Now, I'm no Aether," he says, bringing the mug over to the kitchen table, setting it in front of her. "But I think breathing in the steam while it steeps might help some."

"Thank you, Mounty." Cumulus carefully takes the mug, the long sleeves of her sleep shirt pulled up over her hands as a makeshift potholder. She takes as deep a breath through her nose that her sinuses will allow, eyes flickering shut as she smells the ginger and peppermint of this particular blend.

He pours water into his own mug, his preferred green tea in his. He lets it steep, watching Cumulus fondly as she sticks her face closer to the steam. "Of course, hummingbird. Once that steeps, I'll put some honey in it. Know you like it sweet." He hipchecks her chair gently, boyishly grinning ear to ear.

"Mount," she whines, still stuffy but she's laughing, and that's all Mountain could ask for.

"Is the steam helping?" Mountain says, eyes glancing at the clock on the stove, keeping track of how long their teas have been steeping. He rummages through one of the drawers for a spoon, opening the jar of honey.

"Think so," Cumulus says. "Though it's fogging up my glasses something awful."

"Yeah, makes you look real dorky," he says, carefully taking the mug from her and pulling out the diffuser. He stirs in a large spoonful of honey and passes her the mug back.

"Mount." She laughs, blowing softly at the mug, and Mountain can feel the tingle in the base of his skull that means she's using her magick to cool it. Cumulus takes a long sip, shutting her eyes. "Thank you."

Mountain smiles a little wider as he takes a sip from his own mug. "Any time, hummingbird."

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.

I have this urge to sit him down and brush out that hair

Cos we don't get enough Per on ghumblr

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.

New hc just dropped: Kevin summons all the ghouls

This probably one of the best I've read on here.

Your angsty Dew stuff is killing me I am here to humbly request more <3

Of course, sweetheart! Here's more Dew struggling with quint magic being used.

Also, so sorry for doing Aeth like this but...it just wouldn't leave me alone so here we are. I will make it up to him, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!

Non-con use of magic! Dew feels dirty about it please read with caution angels!

It's all angst all the time.

Omega is the first to use it against him without his permission. He never uses it maliciously, never takes over and drives Dew to madness even though he could. He could warp Dew into a completely different Ghoul, could throw him head first off a cliff and Dew wouldn't be able to fight.

When he feels Dew retreating in on himself he pulls him out.

Dewdrop can feel it in his brain like little fingers tugging and pulling him where they want him. Sometimes he'll struggle, try to keep his walls firmly in place but he's not strong enough against Omega.

He feels like a rag doll sometimes, like he's a puppet and Omega holds his strings.

The little water ghoul knows he means well, does it to keep him safe and happy but…

When Aether comes and starts training, he's even stronger than Omega is.

He asks Dew if he can use it during sex and at first he likes it, it's like more hands on his body, lips and tongues and Aether can have him seeing whatever he wants. It's fun to play with…

But then sometimes he's just sitting there and he feels it creeping up over his spine and into his hair, nipping at the tips of his ears and he wants to scream. He knows it's part of Aether but it isn't him really.

Sometimes it feels like a violation and it hurts so bad he can't stand it.

He uses it to keep him docile when he starts to panic and lash out, slips into his head and pokes and prods and pulls up things Dew doesn't want anyone else to know about. He's glassy eyed and limp in his arms by the time Aether pulls out of his mind.

Dewdrop understands he means well, trying to keep him from fighting himself but it feels like he wants him to change, to rip out his anger and keep him sweet. Dew likes his anger, it's a shield that keeps his heart protected and when it's stripped away he feels too open, weak to attack.

When he decides to leave and move on to another Abbey he tells Dew he can make it feel like he's never existed, can pull himself out of Dew's memories.

He screams until he can't breathe, until Mountain kicks in the door and punches Aether and scoops Dew up into his arms and cradles him.

He feels shattered, dirty, broken…

Then Phantom comes and Dew can't stand him on principal alone.

Aether had hurt him, deeply wounded him, but still seeing someone replace him felt like a kick to the teeth.

He could tell he was strong. The little ghoul just vibrating with magic.

Dew kept a wide berth and refused to pay too much attention, tries not to do anything that would make him want to use it against him.

He sees him use it on Swiss and Rain when their bodies ache, the way they sag in relief and thank him, how he quickly reigns it back in as soon as he helped them. He's seen the way he gently slips into Mountain's dreams when the big ghoul has a nightmare and twitches and whimpers in his sleep, offers just enough to take the edge of fear away.

Panic hits Dew hard and fast, usually out of no where and violent enough to leave him breathless and on his knees shaking.

He tries to keep it hidden, never wants to bother the pack but Phantom finds him. Dew's distress shining neon and screaming out to his quintessence.

He sits beside him, keeps his hands to himself. "What can I do?"

Dew tells him to leave, pulls his knees up tight under his chin and begs him to just leave.

He doesn't. He lays a steady hand on Dew's shaking shoulder and just sits with him.

Dew can feel his magic around him, feels the way it wants to reach out but Phantom won't let it touch him.

He doesn't understand. Phantom is the strongest quint he's ever felt but he hasn't once tried to pin Dewdrop down and rearrange his mind to make him more palatable. He keeps it locked tight.

He let's Phantom hug him, lets him pull him into his lap and pet his hair. He's warm and soft and Dew wants it so bad he can taste it.

"Don't use it on me…don't ever use it on me." He knows he's begging, knows Phantom will probably ask about it at some point.

"I won't. I promise I won't, Dew."

And he wants to believe that, wants to let those words sit in his brain and close over the wounds left by magic he wanted nothing to do with. But he knew how quickly soft hands could turn to fists and how tempting that power could be.

All he hopes is that when Phantom decides to destroy him, he at least does it quickly.

Just the fact Swiss has a cowbell this tour cycle and it's a no phone concert is killing me. I need to see how freaky that ghoul gets when he's playing it.

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 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.”