Zephyr/Syn | 23 | they/he | Latine | sideblog, usually đ | DMs/asks always open even when inactive :] Ao3: MxSinizter | tags: zephyinks; zephythinks; zephycrack | Mount/Swiss/Sunny amirite {dying in a ditch probably}
i see lots of posts here about quintessence ghouls being able to numb pain or take it away all together, which is all fine and dandy. however,,
âŚwe could get real upsetting and say that instead of just making the pain disappear, emotional or physical, they take it as their own burden and feel it for themselves.
so you definitely shouldnât think about aeonâs first interaction with one of the other ghouls being him taking away all of their exhaustion and aches from all the practices copia puts them through.
and you definitely shouldnât think about how all the other ghouls are unaware that he not only took away their troubles, but heâs feeling them for himself as well.
and you ALSO shouldnât think about how they donât know that because aether never told them. and how aeon doesnât want to make his pack feel bad, so he doesnât tell them either.
that is until someone finds him on the verge of fainting due to how much he had taken on and how he hadnât learned how to let it all go.
matter is never created nor destroyed, what if emotions and pains were tangible things to quint ghouls? would make sense they would have to process it through their bodies instead in order to take it from someone else.
magick in general must take a toll on the user, and i can imagine its worse for quints đ
okay okay okay so we all know that the ghoulettes are so ethereal and wonderful and perfect etc etc but also i think they deserve to be a bit cringefail too! as a treat /pos like Sunny would audibly make the cartoon blinking sounds at you if you said something to her she didnt understand. Cirrus doesnt know the first thing about cooking or baking somehow it Always goes disastrously wrong (especially when she tries to do it with Dew. how can they manage to make a cake that is both wet and burnt....) Cumulus cannot keep a succulent alive for toffee and even she doesnt know why. Aurora only tells unfunny dad jokes but shes so endearing that they end up being funny anyway
what about some good ol' asexual rain smutty comfort with swiss?
ooh bby you KNOW what i like
It still doesnât feel real. Not really.Â
He still canât quite make himself accept that Rain - beautiful, refined, withdrawn Rain who doesnât even let Aether touch him without warning - wants to hold him. Wants to kiss him. Lets him run his fingers through those gray-green curls.Â
Being curled up in bed with him? That beautiful head resting safe and secure on his chest and one long, elegant, tattooed arm draped over his stomach? Itâs too much to believe sometimes. Lucifer Himself must have intervened.Â
Itâs not that Swiss doesnât believe he deserves it, as such. But⌠well. Rain is careful with his affections, itâs the first thing he learned about the water ghoul once the stress of his summoning had faded. Heâs barely been Topside three months, and already Rain is inviting him to his bed almost as often as heâs curling up with Dew.Â
If heâs not careful, he thinks with a rueful grin as he watches Rain stir on his chest, heâs going to have a problem on his hands.Â
And heâs never been good at being careful.Â
Rain murmurs a quiet little grumble as he drags himself to consciousness, and Swiss canât restrain himself from leaning down to kiss the top of his head. He breathes in the scent of Rain, salt and a hundred other things he canât bring himself to name, because who is he to put names and words to something as sacred as Rainâs scent? âMorning,â he breathes, the shape of the word making the soft curls move against his nose, and Rain hums out a noise of recognition as he arches his back a little.Â
âGood morning,â he sighs, as soon as he trusts himself to form the words, and Swiss feels his chest ache just a little more at the sound of it. Rain never speaks unless he knows he can speak properly, and where anyone else might see tedious formality, Swiss can only see refinement and grace. âDid you sleep well?â
âNever better,â he rumbles in reply, his voice still low and croaky from the nightâs disuse, and he lets himself believe that Rainâs little smile is appreciation for the sound of it. He loosens his arm from around Rainâs slender shoulders so the water ghoul can rearrange himself, stretching out properly and displaying every inch of himself arched perfectly, before draping himself back against Swiss.Â
If the leg he slings over Swissâs hip happens to bump gently against something thatâs harder than is strictly proper in polite society, well. Swiss is only embarrassed because he still canât shake the feeling that itâs impolite to get hard around Rain.Â
But the look on his pale freckled face as he looks up at Swiss tells him Rain isnât offended at all.Â
âDid you wake up like this?â he asks, one perfect eyebrow raised, and Swiss feels his stomach swoop deliciously.Â
âA little,â he admits. âBut the stretching certainly didnât help.âÂ
Rain hums out a soft noise of amusement as he shifts slightly. His thigh nudges Swissâs cock again, just a little, and he canât bite back his satisfied hiss in time, just as he canât hold back the little shiver that runs through him as Rainâs hand settles on his stomach.Â
His thumb brushes delicately over the sunburst scar that surrounds his navel and Swiss swears he feels the serene chill of the Throne wash over him for a second.Â
âWould you like a hand?â Rain asks, the very corner of his lip curling ever so faintly with implication.Â
Swiss feels his hand closing gently over Rainâs, pulling it up his torso just a little. âYou donât need to.â
âI know I donât need to.â He pulls his hand free gently, and Swiss is powerless to stand in his way. âBut I want to. And I know you want me to. So why say no?âÂ
Thereâs a look in his eyes that says he knows exactly why Swiss is saying no, but he learned quickly that, with Rain, saying things out loud is a firm rule. And he couldnât refuse a request from Rain if Asmodeus himself gave the order. âBecause I donât want you to feel pressured to do something because I want it.âÂ
Rain rolls his eyes in fond exasperation and, in one fluid movement, slips his hand under the waistband of Swissâs sweatpants. The burst of pleasure that fills his whole body as those long, graceful fingers wrap around him and he swells into almost painful hardness all at once feels like a lightning bolt to his soul.Â
One of his hands clasps frantically at Rainâs shoulder while the other fists in the pillow next to his head, a hiss emerging from between his clenched fangs as Rain huffs out a laugh of satisfaction, barely more than a breath. âGood?âÂ
Swiss can barely do more than nod tightly, and Rain turns his head to press a kiss to his collarbone as he continues to work him with a practised ease he shouldnât have after so little time.Â
âDo you think I would offer to do this for you if I didnât enjoy it?â he asks softly, and Swiss shakes his head against the pillow, eyes still screwed tightly shut against the rush of pleasure filling his body. Itâs always like this, with Rain, always almost too much right at the beginning before his body gets used to it. He feels cool lips brush over the thin scars curling along his shoulder, careful and gentle. âBecause I do. I enjoy seeing you like this and knowing itâs because of me. The way your face moves, the noises you make.âÂ
Like his body was waiting for permission, Swiss lets out a low, blissful moan as his hips buck up weakly into Rainâs touch.Â
He feels Rain smile into his skin, and his stomach flips. âYes, exactly. That one.â Swiss whimpers as the hand on his cock retreats, but itâs only so Rain can push his sweatpants down his hips to free his cock, and when he finally manages to pull his eyes open to look down at the ghoul curled up against him, he feels the force of Rainâs gaze in every inch of his body. âNow do it again.âÂ
Rainâs hand closes around him again, and heâs powerless to do anything but obey.
a lil pairing for @yesandpeeps's comic here about my beloved mountain getting braces. he's so fuckin cute i can't stand it
1.3k of grumpy mountain under the cut:
"Now, caro, there is no need to be upset," Copia soothes. "They will help you, si? I do not want you to be in pain, my earth ghoul, that is no good for any of us."
Mountain shrugs, gaze downcast. âIt just seems so . . . trivial.â
âYour health is not trivial; it is simply unfamiliar, or perhaps, er, too human?â Copia offers.Â
The ghoul looks the man in his eyes, apprehensive. But he nods, agreeing.Â
Braces. What a mortal thing to be burdened with as an ancient hellbeast.Â
Mountain had started to complain about mouth pain a few months ago. His teeth, especially his fangs, had never been perfect. None of theirs were. Crooked teeth were not high on his list as far as complaints about appearance. Fitting oversized, monstrous bones into a mortal mouth certainly isn't a comfortable thing.Â
But they all managed. Mountain managed. Until, that is, they started shifting, crowding in on each other and messing with his bite. The perfect space that his fangs fit into was suddenly too snug, the points of them clacking together if he chewed wrong or made a funny face at Swiss over his cymbals. His bottom incisors had begun to tip forward, threatening to give him an underbite.Â
Suddenly, his teeth were just . . . wrong. And once they started becoming tender and sensitive to his favorite meals, Aether determined it was time for Copia to get involved, much to Mountainâs chagrin.Â
âYou know, I had braces as a child,â Copia muses now. âQuite bulky things. I could never pick out the right colors.â He chuckles a little, but stops when he catches the frown starting to form on Mountainâs face. He reaches up to pat him on the shoulder and scritch under his chin. âNot to worry, they will not look as bad as mine did, my ghoul.â
But theyâll still look bad, is what his brain translates Papaâs words to.Â
Mountainâs already regretting complaining about it all.
â
The afternoon and evening after getting them placed is spent alone. Mountain is none too kindly reminded of the first time his horns shed, hours spent hiccuping through tears as he stared at his foreign reflection.Â
They look . . . weird. They feel weird. Little bits of metal poking at his gums, his tongue, the inside of his mouth. His teeth look too small, too human for his liking. Mountain couldnât fathom adding some unnatural color on top of it all, so he chose the translucent, slightly frosted elastic chain. It may yellow overtime, the orthodontist had said. Mountain had nodded, accepted this potential side effect, but he really didnât care.Â
Heâs thankful to have an entire drum kit to hide behind. But his pack? Well, he can hide from them at least for the next twelve hours.Â
Mountain steps away from the bathroom mirror with a sigh and goes back to uselessly pruning the ferns hanging over the windows.Â
â
He rises the next day from a fitful sleep just as the sun peeks through the leaded panes. His mouth is screaming at him, gums sensitive and too much pressure everywhere. Lines of pain shoot up his jaw when he rubs across a nerve, and Mountain winces with a curse on his tongue.
Begrudgingly, he gets dressed for the day, despite the urge to crawl back into bed and sulk for as long as he can. But he can't very well do that with tour starting up again in a matter of weeks, so he pulls on some sweats and slumps to the kitchen.Â
Tea. He needs tea. And probably a few hours alone with a quintessence ghoul.
No oneâs in the common area when he arrives, and he silently thanks the devil below for a moment of solitude. The earth ghoul huffs a sigh through his nose and rifles through the teabags for something smooth and spiced.Â
The warm scent of chai and orange zest hits his nose as Mountain waits for his cup to steep, smiling ever so slightly as the fragrant steam wafts over his face. It makes him feel better, even if just for a moment.Â
Mountain cringes internally as he hears small feet padding down the corridor. He knows itâs Dew before he sees him, the little ghoul often rising with the sun most mornings. He tucks his face further into his mug, caging his forearms around his face.
The fire ghoul lets out a big yawn as he rounds the corner, stretching to brush the top of the short archway as he enters. Dew chirps when he sees the earth ghoul hunched over at the table.Â
âMorninâ Mount,â he mumbles. He inhales a lungful of air, sighing with a happy hum. âHm, smells good. Mind if I join?â
Mountain shakes his head, mussed-up waves falling in front of his face.Â
âThanks,â Dew says. He makes his way over to the cabinets with a lilt in his step, humming some indiscriminate tune as he selects his favorite mug. Tired, but still too cheery for how early it is. Itâs quiet between them for a few moments, save for the clinking of ceramic and Dewâs song. Mountain lowers his shoulders a little.Â
And promptly raises them back up under his ears when Dew asks: âHowâre the braces?â Mountain knows the fire ghoul is looking at him expectantly, ears perked. He doesnât have to look to know his eyes are kind, rather than filled with malice or ill-intent. Dew wouldnât make fun of him he knows, but he would love nothing more than to escape to the forest and bury his head in the dirt right now.Â
âFine,â he lies. âKinda hurts,â he mumbles as an afterthought, doing his best to speak with the least amount of mouth movements.Â
Dew tuts empathetically. He doesnât speak again, but Mountain still feels his eyes on him. He chances a glance at him, which was really the wrong thing to do, considering the way Dewâs face perks up when he does. His arms are folded across his chest as he leans nonchalantly against the kitchen counter, hair and eyes glinting gold in the rising sunlight.Â
Dew gives him a knowing grin and raises his eyebrows, attempting to prompt the earth ghoul into sharing his new set of braces. Mountain stares back, shy. But, against his will, there's a smile tugging at his lips, like he simply can't help it when Dew looks at him like that.
He smiles wider. "Come on big guy, will you show me?" Dew shuffles over to him at the table. "Please?"
Mountain bites the inside of his cheek, eyes steely. He shakes his head sheepishly, already pushing away from the table, chair legs scraping against the floor as he moves to make his escape.Â
He doesnât get very far. The fire ghoul steps in front of him, one hand grabbing Mountainâs sweater sleeve and the other reaching up towards his face. Dew waggles his fingers under his chin with a stupid giggle, bouncing on his toes as Mountain jerks his head away from his hand.
âDew,â he warns, unable to escape his little fingers. âSwear tâ Satan, âf you donââ
âHa!â the smaller ghoul exclaims, grabbing Mountainâs cheeks at last and squishing them together until the earth ghoul canât help but bare his teeth, a grimace more than a grin. Mountain pulls at Dewâs wrist to try and dislodge him.
âStooop,â he groans. Dew gives him a few squeezes before releasing him, opting to wrap both arms around Mountainâs middle instead and nuzzling against his chest in apology.
âBut you look fine, Mount. Cute, even,â he laughs, looking up at him.Â
âDo not,â Mountain responds, shaking his head. He rolls his eyes, sighing. He brushes a stray strand of hair out of Dewâs face, holding back a laugh when Dew purposely bats his lashes and nods solemnly back at him.
âYou do. Itâs different, yeah. But youâre still you,â he offers.Â
âThanks,â Mountain says in a small voice.Â
Dew gives him one last squeeze before pulling away and sitting down at the table. He smiles and waves his earth ghoul back over. âCome on, finish your tea. Iâm sure Aetherâll be up soon, and Iâm sure heâll need no convincing to help you with the pain.â
The closest I've gotten to writing fanfiction in a very long time is over 1000 "brainstorming" words of sapphic sex between an OC and Sunshine today lmao đ
i donât even know how to describe this. swiss being the ever attentive partner. aurora finding things out about herself through a little bit of dysphoria and a lot of euphoria. aurora exploring gender and sex and swiss helping her through it. sometimes a girlie deserves a âgood boyâ or two⌠as a treat :3
i wrote this on tumblr mobile so i have no idea how long it is and thereâs no capitalization lol but iâd guess maybe around 800 words?? of smut below the cut
âgood girl.â
the praise is nice to hear but the pet name doesnât phase her. doesnât make her stomach swoop or make her head go fuzzy. it just washes over her, she doesnât even really know how to respond. thank you? i know? just for you? sheâs thinking more than sheâs feeling at this point and sheâs about three minutes away from thinking herself out of the mood.
so she just nods her head and sighs, angling ďżź her hips back so that swiss can fill her even deeper. grinding her clit over his stomach and waiting for him to push all the thoughts out of her brain on his next thrust. he slides in and nestles the head of his dick into that extra sensitive spot deep inside of her. and it works- no more thoughts. she whines and curls her sharp little nails into swissâ skin where her hands are braced on his chest. she watches red lines break out in their wake and she wants to feel bad but she knows he loves the sting. loves it too much to keep it to himself.
âfuck, rory. such a good girl.â
thereâs that fucking word again. it usually doesnât cause her this much trouble, but right now? she canât stand it. she wrinkles her nose and tries to cover it with a half-genuine moan as swiss rocks into her again. another press and her arms start to wobble under her weight, threatening to buckle as swiss grinds against her slow and filthy- just how he knows she likes it. she might be in a weird funk today, but itâs nothing swiss canât fuck her out of.
he guides her down to lay on him before she has the chance to collapse on her own. large, warm hands slide down to rest on her hips. she isnât doing a lick of work from here on out and they both know it. thereâs always a tipping point with swiss where she gets too dumb and boneless to do any heavy lifting. again, she wants to feel bad, but she canât when she knows how much swiss loves taking care of her.
heâs bouncing her on his dick the way heâd pump his fist over himself- rushed and desperate. every thrust punches a breath out of her lungs. every wet and whiny gasp settles into the smooth satin pillowcase her face is pressed into, a dark patch of salvia spreading under her overheated cheek. she doesnât even think to feel bad about that one. she knows swiss likes her sloppy.
swiss brushes his lips against her neck, teasing the skin there with dangerous teeth. when he talks she can feel his rich timber vibrating through her esophagus and rattling against her skull where their heads rest against each other at the temple.
âwhose are you?â
her reply comes out muffled and shaky. the heat in her gut is spreading quick and the way swissâ thumbs press into her stomach, hands so big that they nearly meet under her bellybutton, is only adding fuel to her fire.
âyours,â she answers simply, anything more and sheâd start to trip over her words.
he slams into her, and asks again. a possessive growl edges into his voice.
âwhose?â
ây- fuck! yours, swiss. iâm yours.â
she feels him smile against her neck.
âwhat are you?â
she doesnât know what to say. what is she?
âi donât⌠what do you-â
he saves her the trouble of babbling herself in circles. he clarifies.
âyouâre mine, but what are you?â
she tries to understand, she really does. but itâs kind of hard to think straight when youâre sitting on a lapful of dick. so swiss does the thinking for her.
â⌠are you my good girl?â
she doesnât realize she had been writhing until she stops, freezing at the word. sheâs too fucked out to hide it now. reduced to base instinct and carnal need, she doesnât have the presence of mind to pretend like she likes the name. swiss hums like heâs considering a particularly challenging mathematical equation. he slides a hand up her back to work his fingers through her soft, short hair. he scratches and her scalp until she relaxes. he only speaks once he can feel the gentle rumble of her purr puttering against his chest. he watches one of her ears give a content flick and he smiles.
âmaybe not⌠maybe youâre my good puppy? or maybe my good kitten?â
she groans and buries her face in the pillow below her. she blushes so furiously that it stains the back of her neck baby pink. her thin tail thwaps against his thigh, an embarrassed little twitch. not good but not horrible either. better than frozen.
âoh almost, but not quite. isnât that right, sweetheart?â
sweetheart goes over as easy as it ever has, drawing a quiet huff from her between her shiny lips and encouraging a timid roll of her hips. swiss sighs as she pushes herself back onto him. this is good, this is nice, but swiss thinks he can do better. sure, he likes seeing her happy- of course he does. but more than anything, he wants to see her wrecked.
heâs up to bat, two strikes down. heâs got one more swing and heâs going to make it count. he runs his hand up the back of her head, curling his fingers around a sharp little horn. he uses it as leverage to lift her away from the pillow. he wants to watch her face when he says it. sheâs pretty as ever, red cheeks and glassy eyes. he thumbs over the sensitive base of her horn just to watch her eyelids flutter. itâs now or never.
ârory, are you my good boy?â
even if swiss couldnât see her wide eyes, couldnât hear the throaty moan she let out, couldnât smell the sharp scent of her arousal- he would have known from the way her cunt throbbed around him alone. it hits her so hard that the muscles in her thighs jump, knees digging into swissâ ribs with as her body tries to cave in on itself. after the initial tremor wracks her body, she sags as though her blood had been replaced with sand. the only thing keeping her up is the hand on her horn.
âoh? there it is. thatâs it, thatâs my good boy.â
she trembles in his lap, blood beating in her ears like a drum. is it going to feel like this every time he says it?
âswiss. swiss, please-â
he hushes her and presses gentle kisses into her sweaty hairline.
âyeah? tell me what you need, baby boy.â
she laces her fingers together behind his neck, hooks a leg under one of his, and in a surprising feat of strength, flips them over so that swiss is lumbering over her. she crosses her ankles at the small of his back and uses the hands on his neck to bring him down to her. her cool breath tickles his ear when she speaks.
âfuck me. please. i wanna be good. show me iâm good. i wanna be your good boy. fuck, swiss- please.â
