#aether whump

[contentloadingandstuff]

Aether Whump | Things Money Can Buy - Intro

A/N: Yup, the series is back - sort of. I'm going to be remaking what's here already to make it an actual story instead of just random whumpy scenes. CW: Canon violence.

Honed blades clash, sending a handful of blue sparks flying. Growling, Kunikuzuchi withdraws his blade and brings it down with double the force, just for his weapon to be stopped by Aether’s sword, held firmly in his experienced hands. The Traveler pushes forward, forcing his opponent to take a step back under his relentless pressure. The katana is raised just in time to stop a follow up blow, but the sheer force bends his whole body backwards. 

Scaramouche doesn't have time to ready his own attack as Aether maintains the pressure, delivering blow after blow to his opponent. Each clash creates dents in his blade, the white iron chips flying every time he barely manages to block. 

“Worthless… weapon…!” The puppet speaks, grinding his teeth as he strains with each blow. An attempt to stab the human is foiled with an efficient parry, sending him back on the defensive. 

“Not used to fighting, are you?” His golden eyes are filled with grim determination. “Or risking your own skin in the first place, huh?”

At last his katana reaches the end of its rope and Aether's next strike cuts it clean in half, the end of his blade slashing through Scaramouche's chest. He stumbles backwards, clumsily raising his iron bracer to stop the next strike. No blood from the cut stains the dusty boards or the Delusion factory. 

The warrior mind of his opponent remains unphased at this, instantly winding another strike. Scaramouche throws out his hands, summoning bolts of Electro with all of his might. His opponent is stopped in his tracks, forced to stand his ground and block the attack with a rapidly deployed Geo shield. He shoots another bolt but as he does so, the shield explodes into jagged, yellow shards of rock. They strike his vessel, embedding into his shoulder and offsetting the lightning to harmlessly strike the floor. Wasting no time, the enemy charges forwards and strikes true. 

The Harbinger’s arm clutters to the ground amongst servos and gears. Wires short out in the wound, shooting sparks out of the wound. He falls to his knees, dazed, clutching the removed part of his mechanical body. 

Seeing his opponent unarmed in both meanings of the word, Aether takes a step back. He uses the tip of his weapon to slide the katana’s remnants away from Scaramouche. 

“Hah. It seems like you're not only figuratively heartless.” 

Unflinching, Kunikuzuchi looks up at his enemy, his mouth a snarling grimace. 

“Whatever you are, you'll pay. You'll pay for the war.” He points his sword at Scaramouche’s throat. “Tens of thousands dead, just so you Fatui could lay your hands on the Gnosis. But no more.”

There is no inkling of neither hesitation nor mercy in his eyes - only stone cold resolve. Scaramouche’s expression softens. In the silence of the room he can feel a pulse in his chest. 

His hand clutches over the wound. He has been destroyed, defeated. He is left kneeling before his enemy like never before. It is over. 

Scaramouche feels his throat tighten in fear as he awaits death. 

But Aether stands still. In the corner of his eye, Behind the man, Scaramouche sees a splash of red on the wooden backdrop. He focuses and sure enough, he spots a handful of Skirmishers looking on from a balcony above them. 

Useless minions, he thinks, but his thoughts are stopped dead in their tracks as he spots a rifle trained straight at Aether. 

Scaramouche's eyes shoot open. Maybe they aren't so useless after all. 

Noticing this, the Traveler turns his head only to be welcomed with a loud gunshot.

He spins around, instantly summoning a shield to defend himself. Scaramouche summons Electro in his remaining hand and slashes across his would-be killer's shins. Aether screams out as the energy burns through his trousers and into his exposed flesh. He falls forward, the puppet using this opportunity to get back to his feet. Feeling the anger and hate boil inside him, he outstretches his arm and summons a shockwave, sending the momentarily unbalanced Aether flying at the wall. Barreling through various shelves and crates, his body smashes against the stone wall with a dull thud, sword cluttering to the ground. 

Kunikuzuchi smiles. He curls his fingers, lifting Aether into the air and slamming him into the debris-ridden floor. As he impacts a small cloud of dust arises from the broken furniture. Aether is picked up again and thrown to the side, his face meeting the cold stone of a fireplace. 

“You should not have returned here, you fool. Just destroying our plan wasn't enough for you, so you thought - the audacity! - that you could capture me too?” Scaramouche dusts his knees off, gazing smugly at the human, slowly raising to his feet. Before he can stabilize himself though he is raised up again and tossed like a ragdoll to the opposite end of the room. “And then you don't even kill me when you have the chance. You're a mockery.”

Aether grunts. Scaramouche observes as he drags himself to his knees and coughs out a bloodstained tooth. His eyes flicker with excitement. 

Adrenaline rushing through his body, Scaramouche steps forward using his powers to pick his defenseless opponent up yet again. With a satisfied groan, he gestures downwards with his whole arm, sending Aether crashing against the ground. Then, Scaramouche repeats. Then again. And again. 

With each gesture of his hand and each painful impact, Aether groans in pain. His cries become quieter and quieter as the deceptively hard floor stains with more and more blood. When Scaramouche can hear the pained sounds no more, he finally releases the human from his grip, letting him fall to the floor. 

As the Traveler moans weakly, Scaramouche laughs to himself. “Pathetic.”

Aether clutches his stomach, coughing as the Fatui approaches him. Every now and then a few new droplets of blood stain the floorboards. Using his foot, Scaramouche turns his enemy over onto his back. He aims his leg and stomps onto his stomach, sending him into a coughing fit. 

“I would gladly end your misery here, if only you weren't such a nuisance, Traveler.” The man tries to turn his head to look up at him, but is forced into place with Kunikuzuchi’s sandal on his head. 

Aether spits, sending him a look of defiance.

“You'll pay”, he speaks with a mocking voice. 

With a kick to the head, Aether's world is plunged into darkness. 

Scaramouche takes a step back, admiring the battered body of his opponent. He turns sharply towards his saviors. 

“What are you waiting for, morons? Tie him up. We'll take ‘the Traveler’ on a really memorable journey.”

Thanks for reading!

[cirrus-ghoulette]

Ghost BC Whump Month is back!

That's right. 30 days of hurt with no (or very little) comfort!

For Whump Month, you can use any characters you want in the Ghost universe, including OCs. You can use platonic relationships, you can use romantic relationships, you can use relationships where both characters hate each other, you can use relationships where neither characters have met!

Starting on the first of June 2024, you can write, you can draw, and you can create in any way you want for these prompts.

If you do create anything, please tag me in it! I wanna see your work! I'll reblog any Whump Month creations.

Of course, make sure your creations are CWed appropriately, and then make sure you tag 'Whump Month 2024', so that everything can be found easily!

Have fun!

[brookriver-mudlark]

always be wary of leaks

[moldycantaloupe]

Trying to get back into writing, and decided to go with @cirrus-ghoulette 's whump month prompt, "Religious Trauma" to help me out! This is the Holy Dew Au created by @littlemoon-beam , and I recommend reading it; it's very good, and I hope I did you right in this!

He still shakes in fear of the memories that taunt him, his scars burn, phantom wings struggle to work. He wails when his mind is unforgiving, images of His betrayal plague him to his core. He still yearns for his Grace, yearns for his life before, but no amount of prayer could possibly make Him forgive again.

Aether finds him in the old chapel just past the forest’s border, one abandoned time ago by a congregation long past. He finds Dew at the altar, kneeled below the intricate stained glass, moonlight casting beautiful colors on the angel. His head is bowed and Aether knows he’s clutching onto a rosary, fingers rubbing against the beads and whispering his prayers.

He would find this endearing, beautiful even, but the further into the church he goes, the further he frowns. Dew pays his presence no mind, as if he can’t feel him. The closer he gets, the more he can make out under the colorful light; his body shakes, voice breathy but strained, pleads in his words. Aether crouches next to the creature. He doesn’t dare lay a hand on his angel, but he worries.

“Aingeal,” he whispers softly. Dew stops his speaking, and Aether can further see into his descent; tears run down his pale cheeks, lip bitten bloody and raw, fingers tangled into his prayer beads, rubbing them in soothing notions.

“I,” he takes in a shaky breath and faces away from Aether, “I apologize. I do not wish for you to see me this way.”

“We are mates, Aingeal.” Aether lifts his hand and gently tucks the loose strands of gold behind his ear. “I vowed to protect you. What troubles you?”

That breaks the dam. Dew folds further into himself until his head hits the stone and lets out a sob, one that rings against the tall walls of the chapel.

“I do not know what I did,” he shakes his head and his hair falls further to the ground, “I do not know why He created me with sin in mind. Why would He do this?”

Aether sets a firm hand against his clothed back and rubs soothing circles, pumping small doses of quintessence into the small angel. Dew shakes further as he feels the magic rush through him.

“He is a cruel one.” Aether looks up to the stained glass; an image of Mary holding her newborn son towards the Heavens. “You did no wrong. He creates not love, but hate.”

Aether bends down to see his angel, and those molten eyes rimmed in red and tears meet his own.

“But you defy Him, Dewdrop. You are love.”

Dew breaks into another sob, and Aether pulls him into his lap. The angel, with his rosary still in hand, claws at his back and nuzzles his face into the quint’s neck, desperate for his contact. Aether holds him close and tight, rocking the two back and forth as Dew slowly calms and sags in his hold.

“Let’s go back home, yes?” Aether smiles down at him and kisses the top of his head.

“Home.” Dew repeats with a nod. “Please, Aether. Take me home.”

With little struggle, Aether gets to his feet with an angel still wrapped around his waist, and begins to walk towards the opening of the chapel. Dew stares at the stained glass as it gets further away; Mary, holding her newborn son towards the heavens. She looks mournful, her son’s demise already planned. Dew feels empathy for the new mother as Aether closes the doors.

[mutt-sys]

Fuck it along side the other shit I'm doing imma do whump month so here's day one!!

(whump month was brought to you by the lovely @cirrus-ghoulette go show them some love!!)

Day one; Burn. (Cw/tw; Burning, fire, heavy injury, angst, Infirmary visits)

Characters-Aeon(main focus), Aether and Omega mentioned, siblings of sins mentioned.

Aeon wasn't always scarred, he had a full face and could see out of both eyes when he was first summoned. He was beautiful with porcelain skin that shined in the light whenever he laughed or smiled, his eyes crinkled with every movement or whenever he spoke.

To say the least he was gorgeous, but all of that changed one day as what would come to be known as the incident happened. The day started off as normal, Aeon was up early and was ready to start his chores as usual, nothing out of the ordinary.

Aeon had caught wind from the other ghouls that there was going to be a big campfire later that night, and of course he wanted to go. A campfire with all of his friends? That's an opportunity he couldn't pass up, so once all of his chores were finished and his room was cleaned and cleared up he made his way down to the area where it was being held.

The area was lively and filled with happiness, siblings and ghouls huddled around and were chatting away as the fire crackled and smoked in the distance. To the new ghoul all of this was exciting, he wanted to go feel the heat up close and feel the warmth wrap around him.

Aeon made his way over and curiously looked at it, eyes filled with curiosity and excitement as he watched the flames dance in the wind. A few siblings were crowded around the pit near him as they giggled and yelled with beer in their hands, Aeon hated the taste of beer so he steered clear of the drinks.

Aeon ignored the siblings entirely as he kept his eyes on the flames, he pictured a dancing lady within the beauty of it and that made him admire it more. The siblings near him began to get rowdy and they giggled and joked, clearly not seeing the young ghoul near them.

With a particularly harsh thrust the sibling dropped their beer into the flames below causing it to rore up and expand into the air, unfortunately for Aeon he was in the path of the flames as it wrapped around his face and burned him.

Aeon screamed in pain as he bolted back and covered his face, crying out in pain as he yelled out for anyone to help him. Ghouls crowded around him to check his safety as they looked him up and down, Aether pushed the others out of the way to scoop the young ghouls into his arms to carry him into the infirmary.

Once there, Aeon was set onto a bed as Aether and Omega moved to check his wounds out, they dosed him full of quintessence as they wrapped a bandage around his wound to close it off. A heavy sigh left Aether as he mumbled to himself, petting Aeon's head.

The young ghoul writhed in pain as he groaned and moaned, heavy pants leaving his mouth as he cried out in pain. Throughout the night Aether and Omega dosed him up to ease the pain of the new found wound on his face.

Weeks came to pass the wound turned into a scar and Aeon's porcelain skin turned red and irritated, he would no longer smile as bright without wincing in pain and to him he no longer looked beautiful. In his own eyes he was horrible and no longer looked beautiful, he hated the scar despite what everyone told him. In his mind he was ruined, now Aeon no longer likes campfires.

[anonymouslymadebydesign]

Whump Month, Day 2 : Hiding an illness / injury

Whump Month by @cirrus-ghoulette 💕

CW : Mentions of throwing up / actively being sick. Slight hint as self isolation.

Summary : Phantom can't keep anything down and keeps it to himself rather than seeking help.

Word Count : 789

Being Topside was strange, to put it lightly. Everything about this strange place and its demands always made Phantom feel...out of place. Ostracized, if he could put a word that closely resembled the hollowed feeling in his chest.

The worst part, decidedly, was having a corporeal body. In Hell, and its endless vastness, he didn't need a body. Quintessential ghouls were more akin to spirits, ebbing and flowing, traveling where ever they pleased. Being summoned to different locations in Hell was as simple as breathing, but to be summoned to Earth?

It was like shoving the universe and its infinite vastness into a compact cube.

The first few weeks were fine, rocky, but fine. So many changes going on at once, so many things to get used to, so many eyes to try and decipher if that glint was hate or worry; Phantom couldn't tell.

What he could tell was that it probably wasn't a good thing his head was halfway down his bathroom toilet. Dinner just wrapped up, the sun slowly setting behind the Abbey, saying its goodbyes like the contents of his stomach. It's been like this for a few days down, and his body was not enjoying a minute of it, his eyes sunken and tired from constantly being sick.

"Phantom?" There was a voice at his door. From where he was he couldn't quite tell who it was.

"Ah...hold on!" He shouted from his bathroom, flushing his dinner and rinsing his mouth out with sink water before going to the door. Before opening it, he smoothed down his shirt and ran a hand through his hair; a lame attempt at looking put together.

When he finally opened the door, he was face to face with Rain. He liked Rain, the water ghoul was sweet and welcoming, one of the few who seemed to welcome him to the world and to the pack with open arms.

"Were you...throwing up?" Rain asked, blunt but hesitant, a clear line of worry on his face.

"No." Phantom shook his head, purposely keeping his eyes wide and round, open, innocent. Lying. He tilted his head slightly, his tail swaying slightly as if he were relaxed.

Rain gave him a little frown, as if he didn't believe the little quint.

"Are you sure?" Was the question.

A laugh, followed by; "I would remember if I tossed tonight's dinner."

Rain relaxed a little, barely, his shoulders slouching. "If you're ever feeling ill, I don't know if anyone's told you, but we have a Ghoul Infirmary. It's ran by Omega and Aether, they'll always be there to help and heal."

Aether. The name tasted like iron in Phantoms mouth. While he was new to the surface and still was learning about the world and everything it offers, he wasn't dumb. He was smart enough to know that his current...'pack'...was upset that their previous member, Aether, decided to stay behind.

"Of course." Phantom smiled, his signature goofy smile, all teeth. He was fine. He was fine, goddammit, so leave it alone. Leave it the FUCK ALONE-

"We love you." Came Rains voice, cutting through his thoughts.

"Thank you, Rain." Phantom smiled, a little more genuine, visibly relaxing. This seemed to satiate Rain enough, as he patted the quint on the shoulder and waved as he walked down the hallway.

Phantom sighed, closing his door and locking it, moving to his bed to sit down. He wasn't sure what was wrong with his body. He was hungry, that was for sure, as the hunger pains in his stomach were currently screaming for his attention, to be satiated.

But he knew that every time he attempted to get something down, within the hour his body decided that that was a bad idea, and had him back at square one, with his head halfway down the toilet.

Deciding that he wasn't willing to go back out, not wanting to see the look of distain or disgust in his packmates, he curled back up into his bed.

No one had to know. It was probably a weird strange sickness that would go away on its own, right? Right. Of course, it was just a passing phase, nothing more.

No one needed to know how in the dead of night, he hurled his body out of bed, scrambling on all fours to get to his bathroom, throwing up the very little remains of his stomach.

No one needed to know how the burn of stomach acid in his throat and mouth had him crying into the bowl, sobbing as his body dry heaved against his will.

No one needed to know how incredibly lightheaded it made him either.

No one needed to know, goddammit.

[shaykesqueer]

Whump Month '24 Day Fourteen: "It Hurts"

And what if Aether was some kind of panther man? And on the full moon he gets a little too violent so… precautions need to be taken. He can get a little mean. And maybe a little manipulative~

Thank you @cirrus-ghoulette for organising Whump Month! Prompts here <3

Side Note! I'm going to be taking a break for a few days because I'm getting a little overwhelmed and I've caught up with myself with the prompts. I'm still going to do all of them because I'm really enjoying it, but they'll just be a few days out when I come back!

Instagram | Pillowfort | Tips | Patreon Coming Soon!

[raindrop-21]

Day thirteen of @cirrus-ghoulette 's whump month: Misunderstanding

This is heavily based off of a conversation I had with @thatfuckinjester forever ago

I listened to this while writing this sp you may want to listen to it while reading

Cw: water dewdrop, ace dewdrop, sexual themes

Dew had finally worked up the courage to ask Aether to have sex with him. It took a lot of mental and physical preparation to get to this point. Dew was nervous and a bit excited. But now that he's lying next to Aether, watching as he sleeps, he feels wrong. He came, he did, but he didn't enjoy it.

He loved being close to Aether, but he doesn't feel as though he just took a step forward into exploring his own sexuality. He feels like he's taken ten steps back. He feels sick, but not like he's going to throw up. He doesn't like it. He was told how great sex is, especially for water ghouls like himself, how impossibly wet they get, how they act like a bitch in heat even if they're not in heat.

Dew wasn't like that, but Aether didn't comment on it. What if Aether was disappointed that Dew didn't react “correctly”? Dew can't take the turmoil in his head so he slips out of the bed, dresses himself, and leaves. He limps a bit, but he doesn't care. He needs to get away.

The next day he avoids Aether at all costs. He feels bad, he does. He sees the pained look on Aether's face, it's killing him, but there's something wrong with him. He didn't feel good after sex, he doesn't feel good thinking about sex, he didn't feel good during sex. Everything he “should've” felt, he didn't.

He's driven himself into anxiety attacks with his own thoughts. He wonders if Aether is telling his pack about how “bad” he was when they had sex, how quiet he was, just anything he can think of that can be seen as negative. He wonders if he should try again, apologize to Aether, ask for a second try. A chance to feel what he's “supposed” to feel.

He walks into Aether's room unannounced, and shuts and locks the door behind him. He walks up to Aether, sits on his lap, and starts to kiss him. Kissing Aether feels good.

“Aeth.. M'sorry for ignoring you…” Dew mumbles between kisses as he starts unbuttoning Aether's shirt.

Aether is bewildered, but kisses him back, “It's fine, Droplet…. You probably… Felt some… Big emotions… Afterwards.”

They get through the foreplay, Dew was dominant during a lot of it which confused Aether, but Aether let it happen. Dew felt good when he jerked off Aether, he felt good getting jerked off, he felt good fingering himself. He gets ready to sit on Aether's dick and that feeling of nausea returns. He gets half of Aether inside of him before he can't do it anymore. He wraps his arms around Aether's neck and buries his head in the crook of his neck.

“I'm sorry… Aeth… I can't… I don't like it… It doesn't feel good…” He mumbles between hiccups.

When Aether looks down he sees that Dew's dick has gone soft and limp as he feels the tears drop onto his shoulder. He pulls out of Dew and hugs him.

“What's wrong, Droplet? Why don't you like it?” He has a hunch as to why Dew may not like it, but he wants to hear it from the water ghoul himself.

“I-I dunno… I just don't like it… I like touching you and being touched… I just don't like going all the way… I'm sorry I'm bad at this… I'm sorry there's something wrong with me…”

Ah, there it is, Aether isn't the right person to explain this to him.

“Droplet, can you get dressed for me? I'm gonna take you to talk to Zephyr.”

Dew begrudgingly gets up and dresses himself. He doesn't know why he has to talk to Zephyr. He doesn't really want to, but he trusts Aether.

Zephyr, one of the very, very, few Asexual ghouls. The ghoul who made Dew comfortable with himself.

[contentloadingandstuff]

Things Money Can Buy - I

CW: Nudity, beating, swearing.

The next day Aether woke up outside of his little cell. 

On feeling the chains strain on his wrists, his head shot up. He was blindfolded again, and naked. Completely naked. He thrashed around, trying to loosen his constraints. 

"Oh? Up so soon?" 

He looked in the direction of the voice. He heard footsteps approaching, and soon the fabric covering his eyes was removed. He squinted his eyes shut at the intense abundance of warm light. Before him stood a man dressed in an unassuming robe, plain in fashion and gray in color. His features were delicate, with sharp, brown eyes hiding behind his glasses. He held a clipboard, although Aether could not see its content. 

"Then let's begin." The man looked at Aether coldly, yet a hint of amusement could be found in his expression. "I will ask you a question, and you will answer. Or else this gentleman will encourage you to speak up. Are we clear?" 

Aether scoffed, and looked the man straight in his eyes. "Depends on what you ask." 

"How bold of you to name conditions here." The man set down his clipboard on a nearby old, wooden table. He then turned back to Aether and spoke, accenting the r again. "Your name. What is it?" 

"It's none of your business." He narrowed his eyes. "Only my friends get to hear it."

"It is, Traveler. I've heard everyone call you that, but never have I heard anyone use your name." The interrogator approached the bound man, his face right up in his victim's. "I'm just curious."

Aether weighed his options. As much as telling the man his name would harm his pride, there would be nothing to gain from resisting. Because more questions, questions that he couldn't answer at any cost, would surely come. He sighed. 

"My name is… Aether."

His captor only smiled, and nodded approvingly. "Aether… that's a nice name. It would be a real shame for your friends to see it engraved on a tombstone, yes?" 

"And that's the difference between us." Aether never once took his eyes off of him. They glimmered with a spark of loathing. "Somebody will actually miss me."

"Us?" He laughed. "There is no us. We are not equal."

"Pfft. How so?" 

"You are nothing but 'material' here. I will extract information from you, however many broken bones and buckets of blood it will require." He grabbed Aether's hair tightly. "You are the instrument, I am the musician. Do not forget that."

Aether tightened his jaw, preventing himself from responding. Still, despite his anger and desire to bite back, sweat started gathering on his forehead. 

"First question." His captor spoke with a calmer, yet even more decisive voice. "On your travels in Liyue, you have ascended to the Jade Chamber. Correct?" 

"May have." It looks like the ransom is just a bonus for them, thought Aether.

"I know that getting there requires a password. I have intelligence confirming that you got there the normal way. Hence, you know the password." The man looked at Aether, eyes steady and determined underneath his glasses. "What is the password?"

Aether laughed. "I won't speak. That's gonna take more effort than just that, pal."

"As you wish." The man nodded to his underling. "Pull him up and give me ten."

While his interrogator tied the blindfold back on, a mechanism in the corner of the room creaked. Aether was slowly being lifted up by his arms, joints straining from the very first second since his feet lost support. The blonde's hands managed to grasp the chain and ease his discomfort a little. He heard the sound of wood dragging on the ground, a plank or rod by the sound of it. Aether's heart sped up, and he braced himself for what was about to come.

He winced when the first hit came crashing down on his back. The force made his body rock forward, right into the other blow, this time placed on his tailbone. The pain surged but he didn't have much time to dwell on it as more hits came. On his middle back, on his upper torso, making him gag and choke as air was forced out of him. The rod came down on him again and again, bringing tears to his eyes. But he kept himself from screaming. His hands still held the chain tightly despite the abuse. Aether knew that, if he were to let go for long, his arms would be forced out of their sockets. And that pain he knew he would struggle with. 

"Ready to speak?" Said the man, readying his pencil. 

Aether just smirked. "My sister hits harder than you, punk."

His captor smiled as well. "We'll see about that. Give me thirty, and go harder."

—

The brush moved, forming another black, perfect line on the paper. Adding a shorter line, Ayaka moved to admire the entirety of her work. The letter was penned in perfect columns, each kanji meticulously drawn by her own hand. She could use the help of the clan's scribe to write the letters, yes, but the calligraphy involved always calmed her mind. She placed down the brush when she heard quick footsteps behind her room's door. She got up just in time to see Thoma himself throw open the door. He was missing his red overcoat, now bundled in his arms. 

"Lady Ayaka! Aether is missing!" He spoke loudly. 

"H-how so?" She immediately furrowed her brows. Surely Aether was just lost, if anything. Thoma moved his bundled coat towards Ayaka, and she spotted Paimon's face nestled in the material. "Paimon? What happened?" 

The little creature's teeth were chattering, her whole body trembling despite Thoma's attempts to warm her. Her face had barely any color. She barely spoke, voice trembling and very quiet. 

"We… s-s-somebody a-ambushed u-us a-and P-Paimon fell a-asleep a-and…" Ayaka couldn't tell if those were tears or just salt water, but Paimon was most likely crying. "A-and w-when I w-woke u-u-up h-he w-was n-nowhere t-t-to b-be found…" 

Ayaka placed her warm hands over Paimon's forehead. It was frigid and completely drenched. "H-he w-wouldn't l-l-leave P-Paimon l-like t-that r-right? S-something h-happened to h-him…" 

Ayaka softly caressed her head, speaking gently. "Yes, I'm sure he wouldn't leave you. You are the best travel companion after all, right?" She smiled gently, earning the same from the chilled Paimon. She turned to Thoma. "Take care of her, and then let my brother know what happened. I will alert the Tenryu Commission."

"Yes, my lady." 

Ayaka turned on her heel, and headed towards the exit. 

Was she scared? Yes. But it was not the time for such emotions. Aether needed her, if Paimon was to be believed. 

And she would not let him down. 

—

Aether coughed blood. His battered lungs barely sucker in air and his throat burned from suppressing screams. His eyes were not covered by the tear-soaked blindfold anymore, but the darkness of his cell made it impossible to see. He could feel an unrelenting, piercing pain in his upper chest. Possibly a broken rib, but he would rather not find out. He rested on his back. It was the part that hurt the least, but not because his captors showed him mercy. It was just durable enough to withstand the injuries. 

With his fingers Aether traced circles in the sand and dust covering the floor to distract himself from the pain. His new cell was warmer, but the floor was still filthy and cold. Despite this it was still somehow worse than his previous 'accommodation'. There the hay, as rotten and bug filled as it was, was somewhat soft. Here they just gave him a bamboo mat large enough to lie on. 

It wasn't here to give him comfort, but to isolate him from the ground. To prevent him from getting sick and dying. 

To prolong the torture. 

He drew a strained breath. He needed rest, and he knew that. He needed strength to endure whatever else they would throw at him. Today it was… a hundred? A hundred and ten hits? Something along those lines. He counted to keep his mind focused on something other than the pain. He could not let himself break. Who knew what those guys would do to Liyue, to Ningguang, Ganyu, Keqing if they had a way into the Jade Chamber. But on the other hand… his captors didn't look like any bunch of random bandits. This accent… sounded Shezhnayan. 

He growled. Of course those were Fatui. Or their mercenaries, at least. That gave him all the more reason to hold on. Aether clenched his right fist. 

Those fuckers would not get anything from him. 

At least not soon.

Thanks for reading!

[cirrus-ghoulette]

Chronically ill Dew whose illness stemmed from the transition from water ghoul to fire ghoul going wrong.

Dew fluctuates between having a fever and chills.

His whole body aches almost constantly. The joints in his fingers swell and ache the worst after long practice sessions.

He never has much of an appetite, but when he is hungry, he eats at inopportune times. This leads him to having dinner at 5am and breakfast at 3pm. The ghouls learn to carry small snack bags on them in case Dew ever has an appetite. They try to encourage him to eat whenever he can.

On some days, especially on the few days after returning from tours, he needs help around the ministry. He walks slowly, normally with Aether's hand on his back for support, and naps multiple times a day.

Copia was the one who changed him into a fire ghoul.

Whenever he sees Dew struggling, the guilt eats him alive.

[artemisjpotter]

4.7 SPOILERS

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I am so mad we were robbed of seeing Dainsleif get the shit beaten out of him by the Abyss twin. I need the whump, and you failed to delivered 😭 😭 😭

[ashthewaterghoul]

Okay so I have two one shots written and idk which to post next so I'll let you all decide...

First we have a DewTom hurt/comfort that starts a lil spicy but leads elsewhere,

    They tried to lean forwards for another kiss, sliding forward off the bed to straddle Dew.     “No, Phantom. I called red.” Dew said while wriggling out from under Phantom.     The hurt in Phantom’s eyes carved a hole in Dew’s chest.     “You’re always so good for me, my perfect girl.” He cupped their tear and snot striped face in his hands, “But I’m not comfortable doing anything right now. Not until you tell me what the problem is.”     “It’s not me who has a fucking problem!” Phantom blurted out, practically shouting it and they both froze. Phantom never raised their voice.

Or, we have a very whumpy DewTher that involves Aether coming to a certain realisation, and when he tries to discuss it with Dew, the Fire Ghoul doesn't take it well at all,

    Dew’s shoulders shook with sobs he was holding back, his Adam’s apple bobbing furiously, “I can’t, Aeth.”     “It’s not going to be anytime soon. I’m hoping for at least a year and a half, maybe two before it has to become a serious thought, but I needed to discuss it with you.” Aether tried to reach for Dew but he recoiled as if he’d been burned.     “I can’t fucking do this. I can’t fucking believe you.” Dew said, shaking his head and wiping his nose on his sleeve.     “Please, Waterlily, I-“     “Don’t Waterlily me!” Dew snarled, “I can’t-, I fucking-“

[coalghoul]

My contribution for @cirrus-ghoulette’s Whump Month!

thank you @wrathofrats for the dividers :)

Day 1 - Burn

Dewdrop had been happy as a water ghoul. He never wanted this, him sitting in the infirmary with Aether by his side trying to bandage his wounds, he wanted to be back in the lake with Rain and be able to swim freely, be able to lay at the bottom and look up at all the fish swimming above him.

He wanted to be happy again, but instead he was stuck, bedridden, in a lot of pain wanting things to be back to the way they were.

But here he was covered in blisters, and so much of his skin burned. He just wanted things to be back to normal with his pack, back in the water where he belonged.

Then, Omega came in to check his vitals and everything hurt, every little touch, no matter how gentle Omega was, every single light touch to his skin was some of the most pain he had ever felt and he felt relieved when Omega said he was “looking good” and finally left. He felt a little relieved when he left, he knows he’s trying to help but he doesn’t feel up for that right now, he just wants to sleep and wake up hoping he’s back to normal and this was all a very very bad dream.

So that’s what he did, he fell asleep and dreamed of the water, swimming freely. But then he woke up, and realized this was not a dream and felt the stinging pain of the burns and the gauze rubbing on his skin. He winced in pain and hoped that it would be over soon.

Fin.

Here’s the original post with the prompt list :)

[dewdrops-whammy-bar]

Dying Star

Who’s ready for some major feelings!!!!! This is based on this post by @puppsworld and the resulting back-and-forth we had. The spirit of something possessed me and I managed to bang this out in 30 minutes.

I cried writing this… Troi I hope you’re happy with yourself /lh

Warnings: major character death, dementia-adjacent symptoms

Word count: 524

Aether hurt.

He didn’t think fading would hurt this much, but it made sense. His soul, his spirit, everything that was him was falling apart. Dissolving like ink in water.

It had started with a sudden silence. He hadn’t realized how present his magick was in his body until it was gone. He had been walking back to the Abbey from Mountain’s greenhouse when there was a sudden swell of intensity in his stomach. He’d gasped and doubled over as it grew to a painful level. Ozone crackled in the air around him as the Quintessence just grew.

Mountain had been at his side in moments. He had tried to touch Aether, to put his arm around his packmate’s shoulders, but the energy was too strong. There was a sudden swoop in Aether’s stomach and suddenly it was gone.

Everything.

Was.

Gone.

Aether let out a choked sob. He knew what this meant. It was baked into the subconscious of every Quintessence ghoul. One day, your star would burn out, and you’d be gone.

Aether’s star had died. He felt cold and empty without his Quintessence.

The pack had tried to comfort him. They’d held him, wiped his tears, told them how much they loved him. It helped a little.

Aether only had days left. He tried to go about his life as usual, but it was no use.

His memory began to fade on the second day. He struggled to remember the chords he’d practiced thousands of times. His packmates started to look unfamiliar.

He started to hurt on the third day. His body was fading, shutting down for the night. He felt sick, weak and shaky. The pack tried to make him comfortable- they made a nest on his bed out of blankets and added their clothes to surround him with their scents. It helped a little.

He cried a lot. He was scared.

The worst part was, Dew could feel it too. His mate, the man he’d bonded his soul to, was dissolving. He felt him slipping away with every breath, every heartbeat, every second of every day. He curled up in the nest with Aether and cried with him.

He was almost gone on the fifth day. He was fuzzy around the edges like TV static. His hands sometimes passed through things. His thoughts were vague and disappeared quickly. He remembered his pack and mate, though not their names. He couldn’t talk anymore, his tongue felt impossibly light.

It was sunset of the sixth day when Aether faded completely. His pack surrounded him, pressed up against his fragile body. Dew’s fingers were laced with his. He was whispering words of devotion, of love, of bittersweet memories, but Aether couldn’t understand most of them anymore.

It felt peaceful to die, like falling asleep. His form dissolved like ash in water, leaving behind tear-stained blankets.

It didn’t hurt anymore.

He wasn’t there to hear Dew’s keening wail of despair, or his packmates joining in in a chorus of grief. He wasn’t there to watch the sky turn pink and orange and fade to deep gray as stormclouds rolled in.

He wasn’t there.

[anonymouslymadebydesign]

Whump Month, Day 1 : Burn

Brought to you by the wonderful @cirrus-ghoulette (ˊ̥̥̥̥̥ ³ ˋ̥̥̥̥̥)♡♡♡

CW : Talk of self harm not just mentioning but actively partaking in it. Please don't read if you are sensitive to this subject!

Summary : Dewdrop learns about SH not long after his elemental transition, and, feeling like he had no other outlet, picked it up as well.

Word Count : 673

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　

If he was completely honest, he would tell you right away how he started and who introduced him to it. Smoking was one thing, indulging in the occasional drink another, but this was one thing he hadn't thought of himself. To be quite honest, it had never even crossed his mind, the idea of harming oneself with blades. But, he would never confess to that. He would never rat out the one who planted the seed all those years ago.

It had happened not long after his elemental transition. Despite feeling at home with himself, and finally feeling comfortable in his own body, the outside world had other plans. He felt ostracized, like some sort of freak for finding solace in Fire. For rejecting Water and building his home and comfort in the ashes. He wasn't scorning who he used to be, no, not at all. But those around him seemed to think so. People began pulling away, becoming more and more distant, as if he'd died in the transition and they needed to mourn for him. It made him sick. But, in the same breath, it left a wound in his heart, a hole that refused to heal up and instead festered.

It was a Sibling of Sin. Shelby, her name was. He'd noticed the scaring and innocently inquired about it, and, not knowing any better, took her words as gospel. She confided in him how she felt like an outcast, and how the nasty thoughts in her head on seemed to go away when she bled. When the burn of metal tore apart her skin, and blood poured out of her. When the world seemed to stop, and everything got quiet. When her skin began to burn as if the inferno inside her was finally being let out, slowly but surely, until she was but an ember.

He had been shocked at first, but had followed up with;

"Does it actually make you feel better?"

And she had looked at him with sad, pitiful eyes and responded; yes, it does.

And so, that's how he found himself where he was today. Locked away in his room, not just the bedroom door locked but the bathroom as well, just in case. He knew, in the back of his mind, that this was wrong. That he shouldn't do this. That, if anyone were to find out, he'd be sent away.

Luckily, or unluckily, depending on who's asking, the Abbeys uniforms mainly have were long sleeves. And when push came to shove, it was easily disguised under a simple glamour. With just a bit of magic, his skin was smooth and ashen, a perfectly unscathed Fire Ghoul. No one had to know. No one had to know.

It was an addiction like any other. The sweet smell of iron when his blood blotted to the surface, the intense burning sensation of flesh split open. The one thing that seemed to slice through the numbness and the hate. The anger and despair. The silent cry for help and whilst keeping everyone at an arms distance, going the extra mile to take precautions so no one would find out. He was burning the candle at both ends and couldn't see it.

What he missed though, was the knowing looks his currently pack mates would give eachother. That knowing look of sensing a glamor. Whispered questions of why? Why would he use one in the sanctuary of the Abbey?

Rain chalked it up to insecurity about his transition, maybe he didn't like the old gill scars that had left behind. And that seemed like the narrative the majority of the newer pack agreed upon.

Aether had his suspicion though, but didn't know what to say. He didn't want to outright accuse him of such a thing, but something in the depth of his soul told him something was wrong, and it wasn't a simple spell to his blemishes.

Because he knew that Dewdrop didn't have fins or gills along his arms when he was a Water ghoul.

[shaykesqueer]

Whump Month '24 Day Sixteen: Comfort Object

A little different with this one. Phantom and Sunny will always come to Aether after a bad day, he’s the best at making them feel better. Using his quint magic on them is so exhausting, but he’ll never say that. He’ll comfort them even if it hurts him. That’s his job, after all…

Thank you @cirrus-ghoulette for organising Whump Month! Prompts here <3

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