Coulduseprozac - Whatever

Gonna need yall to stop putting Biden is Just As Bad propaganda on my dash. Had to unfollow someone because I don’t want to a start a fight with them over it, but I’m about to bite the next person who puts that shit in front of me.

If you don’t like Biden, vote in your god damn local and mid term elections for third party or further left candidates so that we get better democratic candidates for future elections. But this one is already fucking decided, and I’m NOT ending up under a Trump led dictatorship because yall value protecting your personal sense of moral purity over the collective good. Whether it offends your personal morals to vote for Biden is IRRELEVANT in the face of the alternative.

This isn’t a lesser of two evils situation. One guy sucks. The other guy is LITERALLY PLANNING TO OVERTHROW OUR DEMOCRACY AND INSTALL HIMSELF AS A PUTIN STYLE DICTATOR.

PLEASE look up Project 2025 and stop acting like abstaining is some kind of personal ethical decision!

Ghost dropping Satanized and the skeleton orgy grucifix in the era of heavy-handed censorship and purity culture that demands everything be as sanitized and "appropriate" as possible really is such a fucking breath of fresh air. Time to glorify and glamorize the obscene and disgusting (or whatever their profile said last week).

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

Waiting for the doors to open

Just something I started before my break and finished while dealing with my feelings.

Cw: mountain's major depressive disorder, feeling like a burden, he's very brave though, cg omega, cg Rain, cg Dew

It's not surprising, not really, at least not to Dew. He'd noticed almost immediately, noting that the evenings were starting to get colder, that the days were slowly getting shorter. Mountain started sleeping more, which wasn't too unusual in the grand scheme of things…but it wasn't the right kind of sleep. It wasn't resting, it was hiding.

Dew recognized the dark shadows starting to form under his eyes, how they didn't light up when he saw Dew or Rain, how he poked at his food and shrugged instead of answering questions. He quietly brought it up to the pack, letting each of them know that Mountain was going to need a little extra help. They were all glad to do it, ready to help however they could.

He talks to Aether and Omega separately, keeping them informed of the shift in his moods. Omega schedules extra visits, making sure to prioritize him as he starts to slip.

Mountain knows he's doing it, at least when he's big. And he appreciates it…mostly. But there is still that voice that keeps telling him that this shouldn't be necessary, that Dew is getting tired of taking care of him, that he's too much work.

He wanders off after breakfast, keeps his head down and his shoulders slumped as if all the weight of the world is sitting on them. He should be heading to the greenhouse but he can't, it doesn't feel worth it. He wonders sometimes if the poisonous sadness in his veins would spill out through his fingertips and infect each plant and destroy each little leaf and petal.

He slithers under the covers and pulls them over his head to hide from the sun trying to reach through the curtains to touch his skin. He wants to change into something extra soft, something that might bring a little more comfort, he wants to reach for his stuffies on the other side of the bed, but the nasty voices in his head are already too loud and he convinces himself he doesn't deserve it.

He shouldn't be surprised when the door opens but he still holds his breath. He knows it's Dew, it wouldn't be anyone else.

The bed dips and he can feel the warmth of Dew's hand bleeding through the blanket. “I won't hover, but I will be checking in on you. I wanted to say I love you before I go help papa for a bit.”

He thinks he nods, he tries to at the very least and his heart jumps when Dew leans over and presses a kiss to his forehead still hidden beneath the blanket. “We're all here ok? No matter what your head is telling you. I'll check in soon.”

He feels Dew stand and move to the other side of the bed. “I'm leaving your phone right here next to you ok? We all have ours, text if you need anything, even if you just want to say hi. Now I need to go before papa or sister send a search party. I love you, get some rest.”

He knows Dew doesn't expect him to talk but Mountain wants him to know he appreciates him so he reaches his hand out from under the blanket and signs I love you back and Dew squeezes his fingers gently before he leaves.

He curls in on himself and shuts his eyes, hoping sleep might make him feel a little better.

It doesn't, not really and he wakes up little and completely swallowed by the hoodie he fell asleep in. He moves his arms to rub his eyes and feels his stuffies tucked around him and he knows that means Dew came by while he was sleeping. It should be comforting but it just makes him cry.

He's not sure how long he sits there before the door slowly opens. Mountain hides his face in Acker's squishy body, hiding his tears from whoever is checking on him.

The door shuts softly and he hears someone crossing the room and before he can even look up, he feels the calming effects of Omega's magic. “Hey amoruccio.”

His voice is soft like it is during their visits and Mountain peeks over his cow to look at him.

“How are you feeling?” Mountain shakes his head instead of answering. “That's ok. Do you want something cold to drink? Maybe just some ice cubes to chew on?”

He shakes his head again and sniffles until he feels Omega sitting close beside him. It takes him a while but eventually he leans against him. Omega doesn't talk right away, he just lets the little ghoul rest against him until the tears stop.

“Do you want to change into something that…fits? It looks like you're getting eaten up!”

It pulls just a tiny smile from him but Omega counts it as a win. The little ghoul nods and the quint goes off in search of his jammies, something soft and warm. Mountain stands to join him, pausing by the window when he sees Swiss heading to the greenhouse, Aurora and Phantom each holding one of his hands. He can see that Phantom is talking and Aurora has a pink watering can in her free hand.

Again, it should be comforting but it just makes him feel bad. They shouldn't have to do his work for him. Omega must feel the wave of emotions shift because he turns quickly and kneels in front of the little ghoul, following his eyes until he sees what he's looking at.

“What are you feeling?”

He sniffles, fingers squeezing the cuffs of the hoodie sleeves. “Bad. They-they…that's my job!”

“Yes, but you don't feel well right now, so they are helping. It's ok to have help, amorino, Phantom and Aether help me, Dew is helping Papa right now. You help the people you love.” He brushes away his tears. “Let's get you comfy ok?”

He holds one of Mountain's hands while he searches for something for him to wear. The little ghoul pauses when he sees the jammies, they were a gift from Rain, something he'd seen while he was out that made him think of Mountain.

“Père…”

“Do you want me to text him?” He pushes Mountain's hair back carefully, smiling when the little ghoul nods. “Ok, can you change or do you need help?”

“Help.”

Omega helps him out of the hoodie and into his jammies before helping him back up into the bed and texting Rain.

“He's on the way. When he gets here I'm going to get you a drink and a snack, I'd like you to at least try to get a little of both ok? You don't have to do all of it but a little something in your tummy is important.”

He doesn't really want to eat anything but he doesn't argue, he just wants Rain. The tears prick at his eyes again and it makes him tired, he doesn't like being sad like this when there's really nothing to even be sad about. It's exhausting trying to fight his brain.

Omega is rocking him and humming when Rain gets there, holding the little ghoul close to his chest.

Mountain turns his head when he realizes Rain's there, reaching for him with big tears rolling down his cheeks. “Père…”

He smiles sadly, reaching out and taking the little earth ghoul from Omega's arms. “Je suis ici.” (I'm here)

Mountain clings, face buried against Rain's neck, arms trembling as he holds onto him as tight as he can. Omega kisses the top of his head, letting Rain know he'll bring a snack up for Mountain before he goes back to work.

“Do you want to lay down or rock in the chair for a bit?”

Mountain points in the general direction of the chair and Rain smiles, wandering over and sitting down with the little ghoul on his lap. Mountain turns his head toward the window, watching outside while Rain starts to rock gently.

Rain feels him move his hand up to suck his thumb, his breathing slowing down into something soft and even.

“Do you want to talk?”

He shakes his head, watching the leaves dance with the soft breeze. Rain doesn't force it, he just kisses the top of his head and squeezes him a little tighter. He smiles at Omega when he brings a sippy cup of tea and some crackers for the little ghoul.

“If you need me just text. Anything at all ok?”

Mountain nods, a barely there motion but it's good enough. Rain runs his fingers through Mountain's hair while he helps him sip on his tea and he manages to get him to eat a few crackers before he falls back asleep.

He waits until he's sure Mountain is out deeply before he moves him onto the bed, wandering off to get a warm washcloth to clean the dried tears off his cheeks. He hates how he still looks uneasy even in his sleep but he's so proud of him for taking the help today.

He tosses the washcloth into the bathroom and joins the little ghoul on the bed, pulling the blanket up over him and making sure his stuffies are tucked in close to him. He runs his fingers through his hair, humming when the little ghoul whimpers in his sleep.

Dew slips in on his other side when he finishes with Copia, pressing a kiss between Mountain's horns. He snuggles closer in his sleep, scooting toward Dew and pressing his face against his chest.

“Ich liebe dich so sehr.” He whispers, wrapping his arms tighter around the little ghoul. (I love you so much)

Rain smiles at the two of them, the way Dew wraps protectively around Mountain, the way the little ghouls face relaxes when he hears Dews voice even though he's sleeping.

Dew reaches over and grabs Rain's hand, squeezing his fingers. “He's doing so much better.”

Rain squeezes back, bringing Dew's knuckles up to kiss. “He is. He's so brave about letting us help now.”

They drift into easy silence, listening to Mountain's steady breathing, both thinking about how proud they are of the brave little ghoul between them.

Limelight

Rating: E

Pairing: Aether/Dew

Summary: Aether and Dew see the ghovie (gone sexual). Contains handjobs, semi-public play, teasing, hand kink and quintessence fuckery.

(Also contains mentions of Rite Here Rite Now concert footage ONLY - no spoilers!)

"I feel ridiculous," Dew grumbles, tapping the toe of his boot against the dingy theater carpet. The lobby is bustling, filled with people of all ages in Ghost shirts, face paint and costumes. Dew tugs at his jacket, restless.

"Why?" Aether strokes the back of his hand with his thumb. "I thought you were excited to see the finished product?"

Dew mumbles something as they move up in line, eyeballing the concessions menu. Nearby, a pair of young girls giggle as they take a selfie with their creepy little plush Copias in front of the Rite Here Rite Now poster.

"Looks like you aren't the other one, either," Aether chuckles, elbowing Dew gently. The little ghoul rolls his eyes.

"Just...feels weird," Dew shrugs, grabbing a packet of Sour Patch Kids from the display stand. "Seeing it all...y'know." He gestures vaguely with their joined hands and Aether gives him a nod.

"You're gonna be on the big screen, baby boy," he says with a grin, looping an arm around his shoulders, and Dew frowns in a very stern sort of way.

"Get me these," he grumbles, tossing his candy onto the counter as they step up. "And a blue Icee. Large." Aether chuffs as he pulls out his wallet, rattling off things to the scrawny kid behind the till. "And nachos. With extra jalapeños."

Aether gives him a look.

"How much do you think the infirmary pays me, Dew?"

"Ugh, fine," he says with another exaggerated eye roll. "A medium Icee."

Aether pinches the tendon on the inside of his wrist and Dew kicks him in the shin. Aether shakes his head with a sigh, but he can't hide his smitten grin.

They gather up the pile of snacks - large Icee included - and make their way to the theater. It's a decent space, with reclining seats and extra chilly air conditioning. It's only about half full with five minutes til showtime, but Dew doesn't mind a smaller crowd. Their seats are great, in the back with empites on each side and in front, and Dew crosses his fingers that it stays that way. He sets down his things, shrugs off his jacket and lays it over it lap when he sits.

"How are you not cold?" Aether shivers, sitting on his hands. "It's frigid in here."

"You know I run hot," Dew shrugs, reclining his seat and crossing his ankles as he settles in. He grabs his box of nachos and scoops up a glob of impossibly yellow cheese and pickled jalapeño. "Plus, this way I can use it as a blanket if I want to."

Dew pops the chip into his mouth and demonstrates while he munches, crossing his legs and pulling the jacket up to cover his chest. He makes a tah-dah gesture and Aether smiles, leaning over to swipe a little smear of cheese from his bottom lip.

"Whatever works, I guess," he says, licking his thumb clean. He grimaces. "That tastes like spicy, salty plastic."

"I know, isn't it great?"

Dew uncovers himself and settles in again, stretching his legs and covering his lap. He takes a sip of his Icee and grand the box again, tucking in while the theater lights start to dim. That same wiggly feeling he'd had in the lobby hits again and Dew sighs, fidgeting with the loose edge of a patch on his jacket.

"This really feels weird," he breathes, and Aether reaches over to hold his hand again.

"Relax, Dew," he murmurs, lacing their fingers together. "You're gonna be just fine."

The last thing Dew sees before the lights go down is the glint of Aether's golden tooth, and he struggles to swallow the lump in his throat as the screen flickers to life.

The first time he appears, Aether audibly gasps, and Dew can't explain the way it males him feel. He shoves another chip in his mouth and decides not to think about it.

Twenty minutes and three bouts of brainfreeze later, though, his snacks are gone and Dew finds himself with no further distractions. Seeing himself - well, all of them really, but especially himself - up on that screen is doing things to his insides he can't quite explain. There's a certain level of queasiness in play, though who's to say how much of that is from watching himself play in stunning definition and how much is impending heartburn.

He squirms in his seat and tries very hard not to focus on the mistakes he catches. Tiny things he's sure no one else can see or hear - obviously, judging by the people dancing in their seats - but he sure can. He watches his fingers fly over the frets and wishes he had arched his back a little bit more in that shot. Stupid things he shouldn't give a shit about, and yet can't help but focus on. This is exactly what he was worried about when Aether suggested this outing.

Aether, on the other hand, seems to be struggling for other reasons entirely.

Dew can hear how heavy his breathing has gotten, can feel where his palm has gotten sweaty where their hands are joined. Not from the warmth of connection, but a clamminess that speaks of stress. Dew keeps looking at him from the corner of his eye, every time he hears a huff of breath or a sigh he's sure Aether thinks he's hiding, but the other ghoul's eyes remain locked on the screen. Dew's sure that if he were to lay his head on Aether's chest his heart would be racing. After one particularly harsh sigh Dew finally gives in. He focuses and reaches down the invisible link between their minds, nudging himself up against Aether's consciousness.

You okay, big guy?

Dew squeezes his hand and Aether visibly sags, shoulders slumping and legs falling apart in the reclined seat. Even in the dark, Dew can make out the bulge that movement reveals.

Oh, he slips into Aether's mind, not entirely on purpose, and the other ghoul lets out a quiet groan.

Look at you up there, Dew. Aether's reply carries rich warmth, the kind that soothes the nerves. The tone is worshipful, like Aether's borne witness to something spectacular. Fuck, just look at you.

The screen cuts to a close up of him as if on cue, fingers effortlessly gliding over his strings, and Dew's attention shifts to their joined hands. Aether's stroking his thumb over the most prominent vein on the back of his strumming hand, tracing it with effortless precision. A motion he's done a thousand times over, but one that feels so different with the starved way he's watching the screen.

He doesn't fight it when Aether pulls his hand into his lap, and his eyelids flutter when he feels just how hard Aether's gotten in his jeans. His own cock gives an interested twitch as he rubs at that sizable bulge, feeling it pulse against his palm. He doesn't say a word as he shrugs off Aether's grip, but he does roll his eyes when Aether whines into his head.

Two seconds, he says, scooting as close to Aether as he can in his seat. He pulls his jacket from his lap and lays it over Aether's instead, sneaking that clever hand back under to fondle him again. There, that's better.

Aether's mouth drops open when Dew gives him a squeeze, gripping his armrests so hard they creak. His eyes never leave the screen, though. Not even when Dew's elegant fingers start fiddling with his zipper. Not tugging it down, not yet, just dragging a nail over the teeth and loving the way it makes Aether flinch.

You're really worked up, aren't you?

He can't hide the twinge of surprise the thought carries, a curious inflection pushed into Aether's clearly distracted mind. He knows Aether loves to watch him play - always the one to tag along with him for midnight practice sessions and sunrise acoustic sets whenever sleep eludes him. And every time, no matter how many years pass, Dew would find Aether staring at his hands. Fixated on the control Dew prides himself on, focused on the way his skilled fingers danced over the neck and strummed out the most complex riffs with what looked like no effort at all. Aether would always rub his hands afterwards, massaging in just a hint of quintessence to help relieve hours of soreness.

Dew would reciprocate with a little rubbing of his own, of course. He's nothing if not a gentleman.

Still, though, seeing Aether fall apart so very rapidly over the sight of him on that screen comes as a surprise. He isn't one to show his cards like this, usually able to hold a straight face through damn near anything. Dew knows, he's seen it - Aether remains the only one unfazed by Aeon's puppy eyes, no matter how much the kid tries. That's proof enough of his stoicism.

And yet.

It's different. The words float into his mind, wobbly and unsure. Like Aether's really struggling to form coherent thoughts. It's...it's so much different like this.

They're the last words Aether manages before Dew feels the connection between their minds falter. He's pretty sure that's his own fault, given the way he's started massaging Aether through his ever tightening jeans, but it makes Dew chuckle under his breath. He refocuses on that link as he leans closer, until he can rest his head on Aether's bicep.

I'll take your word for it. Aether throbs against his palm and Dew groans low in his throat. Fuck, you're really hard aren't you?

"Shit," the other ghoul hisses, harsh, and a girl two rows down turns to glare at them. Aether shrinks a bit in his seat, and Dew is absolutely delighted.

None of that, he scolds, popping the button under his fingers. If you can't keep quiet, I'm not gonna be able to help you. Don't you want me to help you?

Dew tugs the zipper down and sees Aether bite his lip hard enough to draw blood when he reaches inside. It's damn near impossible to keep his own pleasured groan when he finally gets a hand on Aether, finding him stone hard and hot to the touch. He pulls it out, hidden by the jacket, and Aether's head thuds against the back of his seat.

That's what I thought, Dew snickers, and that's all the warning Aether gets before that warm, bony hand starts to stroke.

Dew works him slow, with tight, twisting pulls that make Aether's thighs tremble in seconds. He nuzzles further into Aether's arm while the movie plays on, soaking in his rich cologne and the subtle scent of arousal. There's no urgency in the way he touches Aether, pausing every few downstrokes to get a hand on his balls too. To grope them, weigh them in his palm and really make Aether struggle to keep his eyes open. He manages, but Dew is certain that it's only because of the action on screen. He thumbs over the head and the other ghoul grunts out a curse in ghoulish, a guttural sound that sends a frission of something dark down Dew's spine.

He's too focused on the fine tremors shaking Aether's belly to notice the other ghoul's arm moving, and Dew jolts when a large hand lands heavy on the back of his neck, squeezing. His cock jumps where it sits already chubby and dribbling against his thigh, filling out that much more. He lets a wanton, breathy moan drift into Aether's mind and grins to himself when that hand gets even tighter.

His grin vanishes a second later, when Dew feels a familiar crackle against his skin. He gulps.

U-uh, Aeth -

A sudden rush of quintessence floods his system, pouring into his veins and curling around every last nerve ending. It's like an electric shock of pure pleasure, one that sets his skin on fire and makes his eyes cross, and as his dick pulses hard enough to hurt Dew has no hope of holding in his choked moan.

Thankfully Aether's arm catches most of it, but Dew can't even be bothered to see if anyone else noticed. His hand has gone still on Aether's throbbing cock, pre streaming over his fingers, and he sucks air through his teeth as an aftershock hits. He shudders, pulling back just enough to give his head a useless shake. Anything to clear some of the haze. He looks up at Aether again, and this time he finds the other ghoul staring right at him.

Finish what you started.

It slithers into his head, rough and rasping. Aether's thumb caresses the side of his neck, just shy of his thrumming pulse, and another spark of power shoots through him - one that makes his balls draw up. Dew groans deep in his chest and pushes his face into Aether's arm once more.

That's cheating, he complains, nothing but token protest. Aether's eyes shine even in the dark, sparkling lavender that holds such promise.

Do it and I promise I'll lick you out tonight, Aether rumbles, rocking up into that tight fist, and as the words sink into the folds of his brain Dew whimpers.

He really hopes Aether doesn't hear it.

He doesn't respond, and Aether's attention returns to the screen. His hand still sits on the back of Dew's neck though, holding firm, and Dew wastes no time in picking up where he left off. Aether's stomach visibly clenches when he pauses to rub at the frenulum, and the pulse of want that pounds through him when Aether's forced to bite his knuckles makes Dew's head spin.

He's long since lost track of the movie, occupied entirely with making sure Aether gets everything he needs out of his favorite pair of hands. He doesn't mind - he'll get the highlights later, once he can think with something besides his dick. For now, he dedicates himself to the task at (well, in, really) hand. It only takes a few more practiced twirls of the wrist for Aether's thighs to starts quivering again, and Dew knows he's about to get exactly what he wanted.

Aether curses again, a barely audible grunt, and as his own hands fill the screen once more Dew feels him go even harder.

That's it, he encourages, focusing on the head until Aether's legs go rigid. Let me have it, Aeth, give it all to me.

Aether suddenly turns, burying his face in Dew's hair to muffle his pained groan. Dew relishes every kick of his fat cock as it shoots all over the inside of his jacket, the last of the heavy spurts drooling down his shaft and coating Dew's fingers. The little ghoul works him through it, until he's left spent, sticky and breathless.

"Fuck, Dew," he whispers, barely audible over the pounding music.

Dew hums, pulling back his messy hand and licking it clean while Aether catches his breath. He's still very aware of the hand gripping his neck. It's something of a threat, truth be told - one more pulse of quintessence and he'll be toast. Aether may he able to cum quietly, but Dew? Dew can't keep his mouth shut when it comes to the magickal stuff and they both know it.

Later, if you want, he replies, sneaking his not entirely clean hand between his own legs. Aether's fixated on the screen again already, so he risks giving himself a grope. Rubs at his aching cock through too-tight denim just enough to take some of the edge off. He shivers as a blurt of pre squirts out onto his thigh, and has to stop himself from pushing any further.

He tucks his legs under him and leans into Aether's arm again. The hand on the back of his neck tightens, and for one horrifying moment Dew thinks Aether’s about to make him embarrass himself. Instead, though, Aether moves. Wraps that strong arm around his shoulders and holds him close, and in a lull between songs he leans down to plant a kiss on Dew's temple.

"Told you this would be fun," he murmurs, nosing at the place one of his horns should be. Dew can't help his pleased hum as he leans into it.

"Hate it when you're right," he mumbles, and Aether laughs louder than he probably should. The girl two rows down turns to shush him again and Aether offers her a sheepish wave of apology. They settle in together, leaning against one another while the movie plays on.

If they show you doing your Mummy Dust thing I'm gonna cum again, Aether sends down their link, and Dew doesn't have a name for the noise he makes.

What if Swiss was actually summoned to be a potential replacement for Dew?

Hear me out. The Clergy and the band are in absolute disarray. The band's Water ghoul is currently fighting for his life while attempting to go through this horrific elemental transition. Nobody knows if he's actually going to make it. It's so touch and go, and things change by the hour.

The Clergy can't afford to summon a full Fire ghoul in the event that Dew's body can't handle the trauma it's being subjected to. So what's the next best thing? A Multi.

Why not? He's Fire....enough. He can play guitar well enough to cover the Clergy's asses until proper arrangements can be made. It would be a shame about the Water ghoul, but there must be order. So they tell Swiss, as he stands in the ritual chapel after clawing his way through the portal, already apprehensive at the energy in the room emanating from the hooded figures in front of him, eyeing him up and down with shrewd, scrutinizing faces.

Fast forward, Dew recovers. He overcomes the impossible and becomes not only a powerful Fire ghoul, but a prodigious lead guitarist. And Swiss....is wracked with guilt.

He wants to let the truth out so badly, wants so much to be honest with his friend and packmate. But it would destroy Dew. Dew, who's worked SO HARD to live up to the newfound expectations placed upon him. Dew, who volunteered for the procedure because band members were disappearing left and right and he was just so afraid to be next unless he made himself invaluable. Dew, who bleeds for his perfectionism and doesn't know that after everything, even with all the pain and trauma he suffered at the behest of the Clergy, he was still replaceable all along. Swiss could never tell him.