Poor Little Old Man

Ok but what if ghouls didn't just automatically know English when they are first summoned and then usually their summoner and fellow ghouls teach them language.

Now imagine that because Phantom was summoned at such a complicated time for the pack (with Aether and Sunshine's eminent departure looming over them) that he never really gets taught how to speak.

Aurora pretty quickly bonds with the ghoulettes but because the ghouls (either accidentally or purposely) outcast Phantom he just only learns little bits that he catches in passing during band practice.

And they only notice when tour time comes around and they realise they've completely neglected this new ghoul and he can't understand a single thing anyone says to him.

Dude, I still sleep on, not in, a waterbed.

I just had this thought about Swiss buying Rain a water bed, full excitement he wants this surprise to be GREAT.

And he sets it up and Rain is like “But how do I get IN the water?”

Swiss is stumped. He didn’t think that far. How DO you get into the water?!

Aether is looking on astounded by the failure of their shared brain cell.

Two weeks later Dew comes home with a family sized blow up swimming pool for Rains room and saves the day. (He decided not to mention he made the exact same mistake when he was newly summoned)

Oh my fucking GOD. I'm dying. Poor Rain, so appreciative but just standing there poking at the bed like "cool, how do I get in?" And poor Swiss just so confused. Searching for some kind of hole Rain can fit through to get in. Because he didn't think this through AT ALL and doesn't want to admit it. And Aether like..."you lay on it not in it" Cut to Rain going: "well that's stupid, why would you call it a water bed if you can't be in the water?" Thank satan for Dew (and his past mistakes).

Mushy May Day 3 & 4 - Massage & Wound Tending/First Aid (Aether/Dew)

Ended up combining days 3 and 4 into one fic. Based loosely on that time Dew (presumably) injured his arm during the Prequelle era. As always, thank you @forlorn-crows for organizing this and to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!

Day 3 & 4 - Massage & Wound Tending/First Aid (Aether/Dew), cw for Dew's shoulder injury. Hurt/comfort, fluff, 1518 words

Aether notices it right away. The way Dew seems to be favoring one arm. The way he furrows his brow and rolls his shoulder seemingly every five minutes. How he makes soft little grunts and sighs of discontent at night when he’s trying to settle into his bunk above Aether’s on the bus. 

When he broaches the subject, Dew denies anything is wrong. His shoulder is just a little sore is all. Maybe he slept funny, he says, brushing off Aether’s concerns.

But Aether knows the truth, and is pretty sure the whole pack knows what’s up actually. It’s Dew’s new guitar. The Fantomen. For as beautiful as it looks and as powerful as it sounds, the son of a bitch is heavy. Even for Aether it can be unwieldy at times.

Of course Dew hasn’t let it affect his playing. He never would. He’s far too proud, and rightfully so. Dew’s the best player Aether has ever seen anywhere in his life. And his playing continues to be immaculate, so Aether doesn’t want to push. Instead he watches Dew power through their set each night for weeks.

Until Dew’s shoulder gives out completely in the middle of a ritual.

A missed note, glaringly obvious. Rare to be due to Dew’s mistake and not because of some equipment malfunction (or Aether’s own mistake throwing Dew off, something he can admit has happened more than once). Aether whips his head towards the fire ghoul, knowing immediately that something is seriously wrong. Copia and the other ghouls are watching him now too.

Dew curls in on himself for just a split second before catching himself and resuming his perfect playing. But Aether knows the damage has been done when Dew purposefully ignores the rest of his stage cues and instead shuffles unsteadily towards the back of the stage as he finishes out the song.

Thank Satan they’re at an intermission. Time for Copia to change out of his white suit and into the red cassock. Instead of taking his usual water break, Aether books it towards Dew, who he finds leaning against the wall just past the curtain.

Aether knows it's bad because Dew has his mask off. His face is pale and he’s sweating bullets, cradling his arm against his body as he struggles to even out his breathing. But before he can do anything there’s chaos. Copia and the crew are scrambling to do what they can to keep the show going. Aether is being ushered back to stage before he can get a word in. 

In the end Dew insists he can finish out the show from backstage, perched on a stool where he can rest the weight of the Fantomen on his lap. He even comes back onstage for final bows, cradling his bad arm gingerly, and Aether finds himself trailing behind him protectively instead of his usual routine of throwing out guitar picks and interacting with the audience. 

Finally, the curtain goes down and they’re free to go. Thankfully it’s a hotel night and then they’re off for two days before they travel to the next city. A small victory.

As soon as they’re in the room, Aether is looking Dew over while Copia watches on worriedly. Dew keeps grumbling that ghouls heal fast, so he’ll be fine, but Aether can see otherwise. The shoulder is swollen, angry red and inflamed. Dew’s definitely pulled something, maybe even a tear, and then he continued to irritate it night after night until it gave out. Aether feels guilty that he didn’t notice it was this bad before, that he wasn’t more insistent. He could have used some of his quintessence to keep it from going this far… He shakes the thought away for the time being.

“Alright,” Aether sighs and turns to Copia. “The bad news is, as of right now his shoulder’s fucked,” he says point blank. No point in sugar-coating any of this now. Copia pales and he hears Dew swallow nervously and shift from where he’s sitting on the bed behind him. 

“Good news is, I can fix him up in the next two days.” He turns to Dew to see a wave of relief wash across his otherwise stoic face. “But he’s gonna have to take it easy for a while after that. And that much healing takes a lot of quintessence, a ton of energy. If we push it any farther than that, you’re gonna end up out two guitarists.”

Copia agrees and they make arrangements for Aether and Dew to stay in his suite while Copia takes one of the regular rooms. The cardinal bids them goodnight and lets them know he’ll get them anything they need to be comfortable for the next few days while Aether works on Dew’s arm.

As soon as he leaves, Aether turns to Dew. He wants more than anything to scoop the little ghoul up in his arms and shower him in kisses, but he knows better than to jostle his bad arm. At any rate, Dew hates to be fussed over.

“How do you feel?” Aether chances, popping the cap of his water bottle and handing it to Dew along with a couple painkillers. 

Dew snorts, avoiding Aether’s eyes. “Like absolute dogshit,” he answers, blunt as always, before swallowing the pills and chugging half of Aether’s water.

“Alright then,” he motions to the compression shirt Dew still has on. “Let’s get this thing off of you so I can work on getting some of the swelling down.”

It isn’t easy, but they work together to hold Dew’s tender shoulder steady while Aether slowly peels the fabric from Dew’s body. Dew winces as he finally pulls his arm out of the sleeve, and Aether presses an apologetic little kiss to Dew’s temple.

The kiss seems to break some of the tension, and Dew’s body sags. He looks up at Aether with a sad little frown on his face. He looks guilty. “Sorry, Aeth…” he starts. “I know I should have said something before it got this bad…” he trails off.”

Aether shakes his head, tells Dew not to worry, that he’ll have him fixed up in no time. Jokes that thanks to his bum shoulder, they get to lounge around in Copia’s suite for two days in a king sized bed and in the jacuzzi tub. Says that if they play their cards right, Copia will probably even let them call for room service to their hearts’ content. The mention of room service seems to lighten Dew’s mood even further.

Meanwhile, Aether works Dew’s shoulder, pressing feather light touches to sensitive flesh while he focuses his energy on delivering enough quintessence to calm the inflammation. Once he’s satisfied with their progress, Aether pulls away to go draw a hot bath. Before he can go Dew reaches out, grabs his hand and pulls Aether back to him.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” Dew says softly, looking up at Aether. He holds Dew’s gaze, contemplating, before leaning in and kissing him on the lips, carding his fingers through Dew’s hair until they’re both humming contentedly against each other. 

Later, Aether sits beside the tub while Dew soaks, periodically working another round of quintessence into Dew’s shoulder as the little ghoul dozes off, finally beginning to relax as the pain goes down thanks to Aether’s ministrations.

Aether helps Dew out of the tub and wraps him in a fluffy bathrobe from the closet. Between the quintessence, the painkillers, and the hot bath, Dew is ready to crash. Aether guides him on wobbly legs to the bed, helping him lay face down into the pillows. From his prone position, Dew wriggles his shoulder.

“Feels better now,” Dew slurs, eyelids fluttering closed. “Can move it now n’everything.” He moves his shoulder in another little circle to demonstrate.

Aether chuckles. He loves to see Dew like this, blissed out and sleepy, he just wishes it were under different circumstances. Aether feels exhaustion pulling on him as well, between the crash of adrenaline after Dew’s injury and the copious amounts of quintessence he pumped into the little fire ghoul, his body is feeling beat. He’ll need rest soon, too.

But first, he climbs onto the bed and straddles Dew’s hips, careful not to press down too hard or to knock into his arm.

“Backrub?” Dew asks, eyes still closed and face pressed into the pillows.

“Backrub,” Aether confirms, leaning in to run his palms up Dew’s back, letting another dose of quintessence bleed from his fingertips into the fire ghoul’s soft skin, paying special attention to his injured shoulder. He massages Dew’s back until the little ghoul is half asleep and purring into the sheets.

Two days later, and they’re back on the road, en route to the next venue, Dew feeling better and set to shred once again, under the caveat that he doesn’t overdo it just yet. Aether has appointed himself Dew’s own personal masseuse. Now, after every ritual, Dew gets a nice, long, quintessence-infused shoulder rub.

Dew is happy to let Aether fuss over him, just this once.

Light a Candle or Curse the Darkness

Part One

In the end, what would be your choice? The summer tour of 2005 does not go as planned.

Warnings: This is not Porn. It is probably not Crack. Hell, it is not even close to an over-the-counter, off brand Ibuprofen. And it ain’t all sunshine and kittens. Oh, yeah, language.

Disclaimer: This is so far out in the AU field that you can’t see it with a telescope. I have never met any member of Duran Duran and I don’t speak English. Well, that would be English English. So, if it seems a little Americanized that is why.

~~*~~

June 21st.

A Day that will never be forgotten.

In less than twenty-four hours life on Earth, as it was known, forever was changed. They had come, without warning, from the far reaches of space. I know, it sounds like a cheesy opening line from a bad Sci-Fi novel or something from Star Trek or one of those movies that the kids had liked to watch. Oh, how I wish it had been a Star Trek episode. Or even one of those Hollywood movies where the hero always saves the day before the total annihilation of the planet. Maybe then Captain Kirk and his merry band could have saved the day. Hell, I would have even settled for Will Smith. But, tragically, no one came to our rescue. The sheer power and technology of these creatures ended whatever defensive measures the nations might have used before there was even a chance. In an instant, every single major city in the world was wiped from the map. Rome. New York. Los Angles. Paris. Moscow. Washington. Beijing. Tokyo. London. All of them. There were no negotiations, no chance of surrender. Millions of souls gone in seconds.

Sometimes I think they were the lucky ones.

Don’t get me wrong, it took several weeks for them to completely dominate the planet, and there was a resistance movement. But in the end, nothing that was done to repel the invaders worked.

June 21st.

The day I and, others ceased to be. Ceased to be individuals. Ceased to be free. That day was the day that whoever had survived their initial attack would forever be known by only a barcode and a number. Me? My number was 7609. Ironic, is it not?

You want to run but there’s no space at all… La la la late bar…

Not some of the most brilliant of our lyrics but still…

Ah, my mind wanders. If I am going to tell this tale, then let me attempt to start somewhere near the beginning…

~~**~~

The first day of summer was spent like so many others, touring. You see, we were in a band, musicians, and we were on a crazy schedule of two months on and two months off. This just happened to be our time on the road and for once we were all traveling together. Everyone’s families and significant others had returned several days before to wherever it was, they had called home, and the feeling of nostalgia had hit us hard. And hard hit was we: someone had the brilliant idea of traveling to the next city, like in the old days, by bus. A tour bus, for God’s sake. A damn tour bus. I don’t know if I should feel thankful about that or not. If we had traveled by airplane, as was the norm, we…I…would most likely not be here now.

Maybe if we had been in an airplane when they had come, we would have escaped the Hell that was to follow. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. That is all there seems to be now days. That, and ‘what if’?

I don’t even really remember where we were when it happened. I think Andy had called it, ‘Somewhere in the Middle of Bloody Fuckin’ Nowhere.’ Andy. He always had a mouth on him. I can’t even begin to remember how many times when we were younger that mouth of his almost got us into trouble or almost cost us a gig. Right now, I would give anything to hear one of the many flamboyant curses that had always seemed to slip so effortlessly from between his lips.

Almost everyone had been sleeping when the bus suddenly stopped. I am pretty sure that several people hit the floor at the sudden stop. Bumps and bruises all around. Later we had learned that they had used what was basically a short-termed EMP pulse in the opening salvo of the attack. Not too terribly high tech for them, but still effective.

I won’t bore you with the details that followed. Won’t bore you with how we saw to any injuries we might have had after we picked ourselves up from the floor of that damned bus. I won’t tell you of the confusion that was present on so many of the faces of the other stranded travelers. I won’t tell you how we decided to leave the interstate. The details of how we wandered the countryside with some of the others from the road, lost, looking for help, are not so important now. I will not tell of how we wandered for a few days before being picked up by them. Okay, so we got lost. We were a pop group not a bunch of bloody Boy Scouts.

Why do you ask that I bore you with such details? Time. Plain and simple, time. I seem to have run out of it; something is happening. They have been moving troops and equipment off the planet; all the while, methodically clearing the barracks, block by block. Guess whose is next.

There are other things that need to be told in this telling.

Jesus.

Where do I start?

I would tell you their name if I could spell it, hell, I can’t even pronounce it. Even after all this time.

Like a nightmare come true, they came from the sky. Imagine our surprise. No one thought to run, so dumbstruck we were. There really was nowhere to run to. We stood there with our mouths open, as we caught the first sight of proof that we were not alone in the universe.

I'd like to request a SwissTom/DewTher double date please. Up to you if it gets spicy or not

I am very much stretching the definition of a double date here, but I had an idea that I could not put down.

Contains a very, very, very small mention of a Rite Here Rite Now spoiler. But just in case.

divider by @ghuleh-recs <3

This is it, Dew thinks, settling back farther into his adirondack chair, condensation from his beer dripping over his fingertips. Aether's in the chair next to him, a bonfire glowing a few feet ahead of them on the lakeshore, and the air is comfortably warm as the sun sets behind the forest surrounding the Abbey. This is the reward at the end of it all, all of the work, piety, loyalty, and literal blood, sweat and tears Dew's put into the Ghost Project.

Rain's still in the lake, bickering playfully with Aurora and Sunshine while Cirrus and Cumulus wring water out of their hair, wrapping towels around each other as the air starts to cool. Mountain's ducked into the woods to tap into the stash of firewood he keeps hidden for pack nights like this. Papa- no, Frater- No. Copia's asleep in his own adirondack chair, paperback open and resting on his chest, readers askew on his nose.

Aether sits next to Dew, taking a big swig of his beer, lime wedge shoved down into the neck of the brown glass bottle. His other arm hangs off the side, reaching just enough to twine his pinkie with Dew's. The touch is grounding, and Dew shuts his eyes, swallows his own mouthful of beer. They don't need more than this, every word has already been spoken between them, engraved into their minds the same way they have matching scars in the crooks of their necks.

A few feet away from them, the relative quiet is broken by soft chatter, Swiss practically giggling at something he said that Dew couldn't hear, matching Aeon's laughter. The two of them have practically been glued together since the end of the Re-Imperatour, and tonight is no different. Swiss leans back in his chair, and Aeon sits sideways in his lap, legs dangling over the armrest. Their horns click as they lean in to whisper to each other.

Dew runs his tongue over his fangs at how cloyingly sweet the two of them are. "I don't think we were ever that bad, right, Aeth?"

Aether snorts, finishing his beer. "I couldn't tell you, darling. We weren't looking in on us from the outside. We might have been that bad."

Dew tugs at his pinkie. "Yeah, you were so fucking desperate once you got it through your thick fucking skull that I was into you."

Even in the firelight, Dew can see the way Aether rolls his eyes. "In my defense, I'd never dealt with water or fire courting rituals before I met you."

Swiss starts, turning over to them. "You talking courting rituals, big guy?" he laughs. Gold and purple eyes practically glow in the firelight.

"Nah, we're talking about how the two of you are practically one ghoul now," Dew cuts in, setting his empty beer bottle onto the ground beside his chair to pick up later. "Haven't seen you take a breath without each other since probably Los Angeles. No, wait, it was after Sydney."

Aeon laughs, shifting closer in Swiss's lap with a soft chuff. The way they nuzzle their cheek against Swiss's doesn't help their case. "Gettin' caught up on lost time, it had been a really long time since I'd been touched nice."

Dew bites the inside of his cheek. "Yeah, I know, voidling," he says softly. Remembers the scent of terror that'd permeated the bus in the early nights of the tour. Remembers the way Aeon had shook against him the first night they'd shared a bunk.

"But Swiss, pup?" Aether teases. "You've got a whole pack of ghouls wrapped around your finger who'd be more than happy to give you affection, and you choose him?"

"Hey!" Swiss protests, throwing a middle finger at Aether as he hauls Aeon impossibly closer with his other arm. Aether just laughs, gold fang glinting in the firelight.

"I'm just saying," Aether shrugs, standing with a groan. "Any of you want another beer?"

"Please, starshine," Dew says, his pinkie still entwined with Aether's. He reluctantly lets go, lets his arm fall back to his side.

"I'll pass," Aeon says, mismatched eyes shutting with a heaving sigh. The air's starting to get a little chilly, and Dew bets the voidling's using that as their excuse to press even closer against Swiss.

"Me too," Swiss says, and Aether cocks his head at him, lips quirked up in a smile.

"Alright," he says, rummaging through the half melted ice in the cooler to pull out two beers. He sets his down to pull out the bottle opener, passing the first one to Dew. The fire ghoul takes a long drink, raising the bottle in thanks. Aether settles back into his chair with his own, tucking the bottle caps in the pocket of his shorts.

"No, but seriously, you're going to give us all cavities with how sappy you're being," Dew says, even as he reaches over the edge of his armrest to take Aether's hand. "How's the dental at the infirmary again, Aeth?"

"Well, it's where I got this," he says, tapping a claw against his gold fang. "So we're in luck. You two can keep being ridiculously sweet."

"Come on," Aeon whines, tail flicking behind them and whacking against the legs of the chair. A log shifts in the fire, sending flickering orange embers into the darkening sky. "We're not that bad."

"There's no way in hell that you two weren't as touchy," Swiss cuts in.

Dew laughs, copper eyes narrowing into slits as he gestures with his beer bottle. "Well. Seeing as you weren't summoned until a year and a half after we started courting, you have no fucking ground to stand on. For all you know, we were perfectly chaste."

"The two of you?" Swiss laughs. "Chaste?"

A tall shape passes in front of them, silhouetted by the fire. Mountain puts another few logs onto the bonfire. He turns to face the pairs, hands on his hips. "As the only one in the pack who was here when the two of you finally got your shit together, I can say with absolute certainty that the two of you were way fucking worse, Aeth, Dew. How the two of you managed to make the entire bus reek of sex in that tiny fucking bunk, Satan only knows."

Dew sputters, glancing between him and Aether. Swiss cackles. The quintessence ghoul grins, raising his beer in a toast. "Nema to that."

Mountain pulls up another chair, ruffling Aeon's hair playfully, running a knuckle along Swiss's horn. "Now, no more bickering. I'll chaperone this little double date, don't worry."

The five of them burst into laughter. It's so loud it startles Copia awake, and they can't stop laughing long enough to explain or apologize.

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.

For fear that you'll find out (I'm imagining you)

Kinktober day 7: Hate sex/Quintnosis

Rating: Explicit

Relationship(s): Aether/Dewdrop

Words: 1,820

Tags: Quintnosis, hate sex (sorta), irresponsible and unintended use of quintessence, dubious consent, sexual fantasies, aggressive making out, dirty talk, degradation, Aether's got some morally dubious internal dialogue, shame

Read on ao3 or below the cut

Heated emotions had outweighed rational thought when Aether seized the water ghoul by the arm and spun him around before he could reach the door. He hadn’t grabbed him with any sort of plan in mind, just a growl rattling in his chest. Dew tried to jerk away but Aether held him firm enough there’d be bruises muddying his pale skin. He’d hissed but the sound died when his back hit the door a little too hard. Aether often forgot his own strength but this had been intentional. 

Months.

Aether had put up with Dew and his infuriating behavior for fucking months. He had considered himself a patient man before his summoning but Dew had seemingly been sent by the unholy father to test that belief—a test he’d failed the second he laid hands on him. Could only bite his tongue for so long. Up until that moment he had been dutifully playing the role of the bigger person, refusing to give Dew the reaction he apparently craved but something about this little water ghoul cracked his resolve. 

It was a miracle he’d lasted that long at all but he’d reached the limit, Aether couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

He hadn’t grabbed Dew with any real intention. Maybe to scare him. Maybe finally lay into him about his shitty attitude. He could say with confidence he never meant to grab him by the collar and kiss him but that was exactly what he’d done. 

Aether had kissed Dew like he sought to snuff out the belligerent defiance within him. Like he could bruise the lesson of ‘stop fucking with me’ into his lips. If anything, he’d force Dew to taste the depths of his frustrations. 

Dew squawked when Aether’s mouth pressed to his, startled sound muffled into a kiss fueled by something violent. It certainly tasted like it was—the faint metal taste teasing the tip of his tongue. His lip was a casualty to Aether’s unfiled fangs. The water ghoul had tried to shove him away with as much force as his little body could muster but Aether was bigger. He tried to pull back but he was pressed to the door, stuck between a rock and a hard place. All he could do was clutch at the front of his uniform.

Another disgruntled noise died off in his throat, breath hitching when Aether licked over his bottom lip. He hesitated. Tension brought his shoulders towards his ears. Made him hold Aether tighter. Uncertainty turned his scent sharp but the unmistakable smell of sea salt pervaded the air to overshadow it entirely. Another swipe over the seam of his mouth and Dew jolted. His death grip on starched fabric started to go loose as his lips reluctantly parted to allow him inside.

Collar released, Aether’s big hands settled on the sides of his neck, tips of his fingers pressing into the ticklish baby hairs at the nape before one slid fully into silky pale hair. It was as soft as it looked. Easy to pull himself through, easier to get a hold of. He didn’t plan on pulling, but so far ‘plans’ were not working out for Aether. It was up in the air if he would, if Dew deserved it or not.

Dew had become surprisingly pliant with so little fight. Aether expected to be torn to shreds but Dew made absolutely no moves to do so. No more sounds of protest, just a single little whine that made something in Aether’s brain itch. Whatever Dew was doing couldn’t exactly be considered kissing back. His lips were barely moving. Really just allowing Aether to take.

Cheek pressed to the smooth cool wood, his arm twisted further in an odd uncomfortable angle behind his back, face screwing up. His gills fluttered with his labored groan, the bigger ghoul forcing him to deepen the already exaggerated arch of his spine. The worn pads of thick fingers circled over the ring of muscle, barely pushed against it. Just enough to feel the resistance. 

”Fuckin’ water ghouls…Freaks, the lot of ya, Ifrit was right.” Aether chuckled against the shell of his ear, ice water dripping down his spine. “You get wet like this arguing with me, puddle? I see why it’s all you do.” 

“It’s not—Stop it.” He whimpered sadly as Aether pressed the tip of his middle finger inside of him. A small preview of the stretch he’ll feel. Despite his objection his little cock kicked between his thighs, pearling at the tip. 

“That’s not what you want, froggy.” He cooed, nipping at his fin to make him yip. “Not what that cute little thing wants either.” The spade of his tail trailed up his inner thigh sending goosebumps rippling over him, point tickling against the seam of his balls as it continued to drift along the underside of his dick. 

He shuddered, eyes threatening to roll back as Aether worked deeper inside of him. Barely finished with one finger before he was forcing in another despite the wounded sound and the way he struggled, immediately searching for that spot that would send him keening and finally shut him up.

”Quit the crocodile tears, I know you’ve taken more than this. Know you’ve let Mountain and Ifrit have you again, and again, and again—“ Aether pressed into it and his knees wobbled, petting over it in time with his accusation. “Take it like a good boy.”

”Oh s-shit, fuck, too thick. Hurts.” 

The quint ghoul laughed meanly. Close to cruel, something he was not often. He started to scissor his fingers in an action that bordered on torturously slow. Savoring how he wept, pained and pleasured but purely wrecked sounds ripped out of him. 

“Bitching this much on just my fingers, how’re you gonna take my cock froggy?”

”Your…No, no, Aether, it’s gonna-“

”Gonna what? Break you? Oh, Dewdrop, I’m just plannin’ on getting you nice and used to this cock.” His tongue flicked out and licked his gills open in a quick motion, grinning against his neck as he choked on his breath. 

He whispered into his opened throat in a way that felt equally hot and disturbing. “Not gonna want anyone else after I’m done,” a third finger to emphasize his point. “Ooooh no you won’t…Mountain and Ifrit won’t be able to satisfy you when I’m done, gonna have you crawling back for it.”

His mouth dropped open, helpless to the way Aether absolutely set to unravel him by rubbing circles into his prostate. He knew he was dripping down his wrist.

”So grit your teeth baby boy, I’ll teach you how to love the pain.”

Aether broke away from Dew abruptly, threads of saliva stretching and snapping between them. It felt like being submerged into molasses and then doused with ice water. He almost couldn’t process what he’d seen, what Dew was hiding behind the apparent act of disdain. It didn’t make sense. He had a plethora of questions and a couple of accusations but the water ghoul met his apparent shock with drooping, glassy eyes. His lips parted, kissed cherry red and sucked puffy. He looked fucked out but most notably, he appeared vacant. 

He’d have asked what the fuck was wrong with him if the answer was not staring him in the face. Specks of violet floating in the pale waters of his eyes. Flower petals drifting in a whirlpool, swirling and dancing before disappearing behind the blown out voids of his pupils. 

Alarm bells sounded in his head, confirming to him he had indeed fucked up. 

Now, not distracted by the taste of honey on Dew’s tongue, he could feel the magic seeping from him. Tendrils outstretched and invasive. Burrowed where they did not belong in the depths of Dew’s subconscious, showing Aether images not meant for his eyes. This had never happened before. Quintessence was still new to him and like an untrained animal, he had difficulty keeping it leashed. In his fit not only did rationality escape him but control as well. 

Still holding Dew’s now lolling head up, Aether shifted his fingers to his temples but paused. It was his turn to hesitate in acting. He simply tipped his face up towards him and stared at the water ghoul’s dreamy expression. Dew was…Pretty, a fact easy to forget when all he did was behave like literal hell spawn. He was prettier with the quintessence threatening to consume the blue in his eyes. Thinking too hard about that image made his pants uncomfortably tighter. 

He shook his head. Rid himself of the thought enough to focus on the act of unweaving himself from the inner workings of Dew’s brain without dislodging anything important. Omega had always told him to leave things how he found it after all. Withdrawing was harder than entering. Backtracking through a maze. It was like Dew’s subconscious didn’t want to let him or his influence go—too content to be suspended in the warm fuzzy feeling, like he never wanted Aether to give him autonomy back. 

Aether hissed through his teeth. He should have felt sick with himself for the thought's existence alone, let alone the fact he’d deigned to entertain it. Part of him did. Something darker coiled around him with the promise of satisfaction but Aether stuffed it down. Focused himself. 

Dew blinked dumbly at him as the quintessence released its hold on him. He could watch clarity trickle back in. Artificial bliss quickly turned to a dazed sort of confusion.

“Uhn-huh…?” 

His gaze flicked left to right and finally landed on Aether’s face. “You.” Dew’s eyes widened and narrowed in quick succession, tone rightfully critical. Couldn’t miss the pink dusting and darkening his cheeks though. He shoved at Aether again, Aether allowed Dew the distance this time. “Keep your hands off me, and stay the fuck out of my head.” 

Like that, Dew stormed out. Slammed the door so hard it rattled in its frame. 

Aether however was stuck in his own stupor, heart hammering violently in his chest. Scenes replayed in his head. He couldn’t stop them if he tried. Literal fucking brain worms that had him shamefully chubbing up. Shame barely covered it. He should have been mortified, more so when his hand wandered south to press against himself through his zipper. 

It all made sense to him now. 

Dew had wanted a reaction the whole time, just not the reaction Aether thought. Little shit had aimed to break his patience and hoped Aether would break him in turn. He was a fucking pervert if Aether ever saw one—and maybe he wasn’t any better, stood stupefied and embarrassingly hard, stroking himself blatantly in the middle of the room with his gaze fixed on the door. Couldn’t stop himself from picturing Dew there, the way he’d imagined himself at Aether’s mercy. 

If that was what Dew wanted, he’d teach him the lesson he’d apparently craved to learn.

Because, I work in medical records and spend 75% of my time chasing down nurses.

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

Cos we don't get enough Per on ghumblr