#and called it 'miasma'

[elliebell77]

rough germaphobic dust sketch inspired by this post. idk if i cooked here but i did have fun. concept art/ideas under the cut

[miasmaghoul]

do you have any thoughts about mountains first time? doesnt have to be a whole ass prompt fill lol but who gets big boy?

(anon I regret to inform you that you sent this while i was disastrously high so you get a Weird One - warnings for terato/monsterfucking, mentions of blood (nonsexual), inhuman anatomy, scent kink, agendered character referred to as "it", use of cunt/clit to describe its anatomy, and some lore at the end)

I still have to finish that fic about his first time bottoming, that's with Omega. But his first time in general?

Well, technically...

Mountain was more feral than most when he was summoned, took a long time to settle into his vessel. He cost a number of siblings their lives before the higher ups decided it was a better idea to let him loose in a warded-off section of the forest. Let him work out the more animalistic traits in an environment better suited to his elemental nature.

He wanders the trees completely unglamoured, with furry, back-bent hooved legs and patches of moss, lichen and bark coating his limbs and torso. His antlers, still budding, grow faster like this and the trees in his path bear fresh gouges as a result. He hunts everything he can, tearing in with claws and elongated jaws alike. The scruffy mane of hair he sports lies matted with days worth of blood, sweat and grime, and it's the fourth night before Mountain finds his appetite sated.

Well, one of his appetites at least.

This new hunger is similar, but very different. He knows lust, of course - no being in Hell wouldn't - but ghouls don't have corporeal forms Downstairs. They feel things, sure, but in the way you "feel" and intense thought, or a specific fantasy. Like this, though, anchored to a physical being he's still learning the ins and outs of, the pressure sitting heavy between his thighs feels foreign. Foreign, but also hot and urgent and fuck he needs.

Mountain paws at himself with rough, inexperienced hands until the sheath between his legs starts to swell. The ghoul watches as it grows, chest heaving when the flared head reveals itself. Already slick and throbbing, Mountain's stomach clenches when every inch is finally exposed and the length of it pulses.

It's then that a certain scent makes his nostrils flare, his eyes go wide, and something deep inside Mountain goes achingly tight. It's not the first time he's smelled it since he woke in the forest, naked and groggy, but it's the first time he's felt the urge to find its source. Now that he does, though?

He needs.

Mountain crashes through the trees on instinct alone, panting and drooling down his chin no matter how many times his hooves catch a root or a row of thorns tears at his flesh. The scent grows thicker the deeper he gets into the dense wood; it's something raw, something syrupy sweet yet intoxicatingly bitter. Like burning leaves on a hot autumn day, rich and earthen but undercut with a sharpness that could only mean desire.

The closer he gets, the more he recalls smelling it before. He remembers catching it when he was savoring the spoils of a hunt, one he'd spent melting into the trees to stalk a particularly jumpy buck. Remembers waking up once, in a small clearing he'd thoroughly marked, only to find a second scent joining his own. Not covering his, not a challenge - though Mountain took great pleasure in...reclaiming his territory anyway. More like an invitation, one Mountain had had no interest in following at the time. That wasn't what he had needed.

Now that he's close to drowning in that scent, though, his cock dripping as it wags between his thighs, Mountain has no idea how he's gone so long without it.

He crashes through the branches of an overgrown willow, blood pounding in his ears and groin in equal measure, and the shiver that wracks him is one shared with the source of this intoxicating scent.

It sits in a nest at the base of the willow, one tucked into its roots and flanked by flowering bushes. There are enough gaps in the tree's limbs to let patches of sunlight filter through, dappling the creature before him.

The one currently on all fours, presenting its flushed, swollen cunt and staring over its shoulder and directly into the center of his brain.

It must be another ghoul, something distant tells him. He only has flashes of the time before the forest, but he can faintly recall a pair of...humans, were they called? They shifted before his eyes, one into a being of black fur and unnatural smoke and the other into scales and fins. They spoke the language of the Pit, and that's the only reason Mountain remembers them.

This one, this creature, looks similar to him, he thinks. He only has a few interrupted reflections in brooks and streams to go by, but it's legs are like his. Back-bent, hooved, but the hair coating them is jet black instead of his own sun-stained auburn. Their torsos differ too - where Mountain could blend in with the bark of any tree, it is instead coated in a combination of thicker fur and sleek black feathers that rustle like the leaves above. No antlers atop it's head, but instead a pair of segmented horns that curl against its skull. It's smaller than he is, more angular, and the few facial features Mountain can see are just as sharp as the talons it has dug into the soft earth.

It makes a sound then, a rattling hiss of a thing, and Mountain growls in response. It's automatic, as is the way he drops to all fours for his final approach. It watches his every move, unnatural eyes wide and growing blacker by the second, and Mountain flinches when it tips it's head and a scratchy voice fills his skull.

New, it rasps in a familiar but broken dialect, forked tongue flicking between it's lips. Maybe a ghoul? It's speech is odd. You're new. New smell. Different.

Mountain watches it's cunt pulse, a thick trail of slick dripping from its hole straight down the fat nub of its clit. That shiny length flexes, and Mountain's cock responds in kind. He snarls as he crawls up to the creature, licking his jaws. That incredible scent, so thick he can taste it, would be enough to drive anyone mad.

Could feel you coming. Could...in the roots and stones...

Mountain barely registers the words floating through his head, but he really likes the way they fade into an audible sharp trill when he buries his nose into the source of his torment.

The taste of it is beyond compare, and Mountain can't help but drag his face through its copious slick while he wriggles his long, thick tongue inside. Desperate to coat himself in it, ears filled with the unearthly sounds of the creature offering itself to him on a silver platter. His hips work in useless, uncoordinated humps, cock jabbing at thin air as that tight hole clamps down around his tongue, and the overwhelming desire he feels to be inside the being before him hits him like a punch to the gut.

You....watching me...

Mountain manages the message as he moves to bracket that smaller figure. It nods, shudders when he settles against its back, snuffling at the crook of its neck. Using his snout to nudge its head, force it to expose its throat so he can feel it thrum under his tongue.

Watched...hunt. Watched me...kill...

It gives a chirrup, and Mountain feels its short, raised tail twitching against his stomach. His cock jumps, the broad head smacking against its clit, and Mountain's growl shakes the earth itself. Those same stupid humps take over, and Mountain stretches his jaws to wrap around the back of its neck to force it still. He uses the last of his brainpower to throw a final thought into its mind.

Why...bring me...to you?

Mountain sinks his fangs into its throat just enough to get a taste of what lives beneath its skin, and as his eyes roll back the creature moans.

Different, it whispers back, canting its hips when Mountain mindlessly tries to line himself up. So long...since something was different...

Mountain's grunting like a disobedient dog, every thrust bumping his cock against its thighs, its tail, it's mound. So focused on getting it inside without releasing the creature from the cage of his limbs that the frustration only builds, his snarls becoming more and more bestial until -

The body beneath him arches as best it can, and as Mountain's aching cock finally squeezes between swollen lips to pop inside there's no way to know which of them is louder.

Mountain doesn't remember much after that.

One day, though, he'll learn the story of the feral ghoul who haunts these woods. The product of a botched summoning, it was always destined to become a creature of instanct. Tied to the realm Above only because its summoner still lives, left to its own devices where it won't pose a threat.

One day Mountain will learn the story of what used to be Cowbell, and when he does nothing will keep him from going back to those woods.

[ganondoodle]

so im not sure if anyones interested, but, i went through quite a bunch of totk critiques by people who were also very disappointed with it and thought id share my favorite videos i found (granted, i only really wachted those that youtube recommened and its mostly .. white men... things like the orientalism problem are not mentioned at all for example, maybe ill update this post if i find any more diverse voices)

i dont agree with every single point and also dont know most of the channels (aside from the big zelda theory guys) so i judged solely by what they mentioned in those videos and the quality of it (like the audio .. bc i cant listen to bad audio)

in no particular order, also they talk about or use footage of the literal ending stuff so if you arent done with the game yet, better leave these for now

(the following one is a podcast thing by multiple zelda theory guys, there some stuff you can skip at the start thats just kidna random things, but the video is marked with chapters)

(theres some mention of some things not making sense, like the sonau only being two, and ithink thats kinda bc the english translation was weirdly vague about that, in the german version its much more directly said that they all died out and only rauru and mineru were left of them;

also mentions of how unfitting it is to call the enigma stones "secret"stones in english might come from a similar thing; in german they where called "Mysterienstein" which would be translated as mystic/mysterious/enigma- stone

just wanted to mention that since the vast majority are gonna play it in english only and the stuff online is also dominated by english)

[july-19th-club]

so my brother has what's either a hideous flu or a hideous covid (probably the second option, because it's surging) and instead of staying home he came to christmas if we're not all miserably ill by this time next week it'll be a miracle

[tamaharu]

i love reading fan-translated manga bc one group will make it sound incomprehensible due to the lack of localization, one group will make it sound completely normal, and one group will make it sound incomprehensible due to the extremity of localization. never change.

[iamthecomet]

shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. then copy/paste this ask to your favorite mutuals 💜💜 (only if you want!)

♡♡♡♡

Opaline - Katatonia

Jesus He Knows Me - Ghost

The Numbers - Rise Against

Kicking - OSI

We're All To Blame - Sum 41

[claudiaeparvier]

not entirely sure how it works but I’ll go ahead and headcanon that Frey and Susurrus are intertwined at the soul now. So what happens to Frey happens to him. So if she dies he goes with her.

[femmefaggot]

We should, barring more complications, be getting Our pay set up soon. You should message Us any donation posts.

I am not able to promise more than five to ten dollars, depending on how many people We send to, however We will do what We can.

You may send posts on behalf of others as well. I should mention that you are in no way taking away from Our livelihood by doing this, if that makes it any easier for people. We would spend the money on video games and substance abuse.

[rulesforthedance]

Suppressed my period for 8.5 years but then moved in with N and my body said, pill be damned, you WILL menstruate with her

[thermesiini]

her miasma so good i throw away all of my incense

[partyswirl]

ok ok ok ok ok humors. humors and pseudoscience and the spread of misinformation and harmful ideas

yada yada. autism time. call that autime. unorganized rambling time. hurrah rejoice yippee and other such phrases. warning. it’s long. do you love the color of the unorganized rambles where i repeat myself soso much. sososo much.

humors: who give a shit? first off me. i do. uh but humors and miasmas and yknow old medical theories like that are actually a great way to understand pseudoscience and how misinfo spreads among laypeople. hear me out on this one. maybe it’s just me but theyre a great aid and act as my brain glue for how all these topics mesh. so im forcing you to hear about it now.

“purging.” “cleansing.” the one-and-done. the idea that whatever’s ailing you is just some foreign object to remove. once it is removed, all will be healthy and right and good. in humoral theory, if you had too much of one humor, you had to purge some of it, so that it could “regain balance”. i’ll get to balance later.

now the phrases “purging” and “cleansing” might already bring up some red flags in your mind. but im only gonna mildly bring that up for now, unless my brain finds some way to loop back to it. this idea of “purging” was and IS used today by nazis, fascists, and the like. we just need to “remove the bad people”, “this ethnic group is why society is bad! it must be removed! if we remove them all, society will be good again.” now thats a gross oversimplification and doesn’t express how much i hate those people but i’m bad at words so it’ll do. “this group [is/are] bad, [it/they] must be removed, and if we remove them all, society will be good again!” is also the logic behind policing and stuff like that. for police, replace “this group” with “criminals”. it turns it into black and white thinking. no nuance or reason why. if you dig deep into it, think “why would they commit the crime?” things start to fall apart. most criminals dont go around killing puppies in their spare time. theyre people, not villainous charicatures. most crimes are committed out of poverty and because of the lack of a support system. knowing that most criminals are just poor people trying to live their lives, the argument that “criminals are bad and should be removed and that will fix everything” sounds cartoonishly evil. because it is! even if stealing food so that you don’t starve to death was suddenly the worst thing in the world, even that wouldn’t change the fact that the crime was committed because of poverty, so just punishing people for being poor and not going off to die in a corner or something doesn’t solve the root issue!

i lost track. i was supposed to be talking about pseudoscience. heelp. but anyway you’ll see a lot of “purging” advertised in pseudoscientific products. the explanation that “[blank] is bad and if we remove it that will fix everything”, such as with those weird diarrhea juice cleanse things (ew). keyword CLEANSE. the implied cleanliness is the hook, the idea that it will remove the bad “toxins” and you will be healthy again! it’s a miracle! but what are the “toxins”? what does “toxin” even mean? how does this “cleanse” remove the “toxins”? how does removing the “toxins” just magically “fix” your health? what’s stopping the “toxins” from just coming back? any answers you find will be half-baked. they’ll give you non-answers. any of those questions will be shut down with buzzwords like “microplastics”, or whatever their weird health phrase js. (try our new homeopathic medicine! it will cure you of your miasms!) [miasms are not to be confused with miasmas. but it’s funny that the names are so similar. did the guy just like. rip off the name? that’s so funny. anyway] any complaints about negative symptoms of the actual product will be shut down as “the purging period” (PURGING where have i heard that before??) it’s removing all the “bad things” (our shampoo isn’t making you go bald! it’s removing all the gross dirty unfixable hairs from your head! after 3 years of use, your hair will be beautiful!). “we’re purging the toxins!” and same questions as before. “toxins” is a notable buzzword to look for when looking st stuff. it’s quite fishy. (other buzzwords are of course “cleanse” and “purge.”)

point is, it’s not doing anything. the root of the issue needs to be solved. you csn’t just “purge” the idea of purging from your mind, even if you know it’s unhealthy. you gotta pick it apart and shut it down in individual instances. you gotta interrupt your patterns of thought and see if it fits. you gotta unpack it, dig deeper, not rely on this weird. logical fallacy? is this a logical fallacy? idk. if you read this whole thing you get to tell me. (might have a pop quiz on this better be taking notess /j)

yknow remind me to do balance tommorow. i’ll send myself an ask. my brains all tired and sleepers.

OO BUT BEFORE THAT SHORT EXAMPLE OF SOMETHING THAT GETS WORSE BEFORE IT GETS BETTER CAUSE THATS GOOD SOMETIMES. ITS NOT A PURGE. IT’S ACTUALLY GOOD AND I LOVE IT SOSO MUCH. vaccines. theyre awesome. theyre awesome and cool and i love them. getting my flu shot this thursday. ecstatic. okok. just brief mention. vaccines are a good example of something that holds up. if youre wondering “hey do vaccines (or medicines for that mayyer) fit the whole purge way of thinking? you get sick after you get one, and then supposedly it makes you healthier..” they hold up in court i am a lawyer. im awesome. vaccines don’t “get rid of” the infection. you get them before to make you immune but like you probably know that youve been alive for some time. look at you. alive and here and reading this right now. thinking anf having ideas. way to go champ i’m glad youre here with us right now. sorry i got sidetracked i love being a living thing in the world with all of you. but yea vaccines hold up cause there’s actual reasoning idk the actual science lingo that can explain it but yknow the cell doodads that recognize the threat, they inject the dead/weakened virus or bacteria or whatever and the cells sense that threat and start to have Symptoms cause theyre freaking out trying to figure out how to defeat it. and then they store the info on how to effectively defeat it in the memory cells so they can either defeat it before you get symptoms or make it less dangerous cause you can resist and fight back easier. isnt that awesome. and medicine usually is helping you deal with symptoms, usuallly inflammation theres like a billion anti-inflammatories out there. it’s crazy. and idk a lot about specific ones that actually deal with stuff. like antivirals or antibacterials. but i know that there’s ones that literally like basically carpet bomb your microbiota. like it kills your cells too. gotta be careful with those ones. they leave you weaker to other infections after taking them cause yknow. a lot of your mini guys are super duper dead now. sorry im like. this whole last section was unnecessary i just like rambling. im so autism. saw trap where you have to read all of this or uh. consequence here. good bye i had fun

[miasmaghoul]

anything little dick mountain.... PLEEEEASE

anything you say?

okay.

how about little dick mountain and nonbinary intersex mist getting stoned and fuckin around in the woods?

thats something.

"This is nice," Mountain murmurs, twirling a lock of fine silver hair between two fingers.

"Always is," Mist lilts in reply, plucking the half-burned joint from Mountain's other hand. They offer him a slow wink, and Mountain grins.

They've been here for a while now, naked and sprawled out beside Mist's favorite stream deep in the woods. It's a tranquil place, serene and nearly silent. The babble of the water soothes something deep in Mountain's core, as does the late spring sun filtering through the boughs above. The warm light dapples Mist's pale skin, washes them in an ethereal glow, and stoned as he is Mountain can't help but touch.

Mist hums on an inhale as a large hand caresses their shoulder, rough fingers tracing the intricate lines of the tattoo there - a sea serpent with fangs sharp enough that even the ink threatens to cut. Mountain could study it for hours, could spend an age gliding his fingertips along every curve. From the tip of the tongue that sits just above the barely-there swell of Mist's chest to the tail that ends at the small of their back.

Mist's slight hand rests on Mountain's chest, delicate fingers fiddling with his chest hair, and he takes a moment to admire them.

They look exquisite; silver-blue eyes reddened and heavy, hollow cheeks crested with pink, gills rippling as heady smoke flows from them in entracing waves. Mountain lowers his head to drink it down, his hand sliding around to rest between Mist's shoulders while he noses at their throat.

"Greedy," they tease, voice light. Mountain chuffs, dragging the tip of his tongue along their jaw. Mist sighs, tilting their head and taking another deep pull, burning the joint to its end. Mountain feels their lungs fill under his touch, and something about it makes him throb.

"Can you blame me when you taste so good?" Another lick, and Mist trills, amused.

"Not even a little."

Another plume escapes Mist's gills and Mountain sucks it down, holds it in. He pulls away with a curl to his lips and finds Mist peering up at him expectantly, the tip of their tongue poking out between needle-sharp fangs. Mountain threads long fingers into soft hair, grips gently, and when their lips join it's in a cloud of sweet smoke.

It's slow. Languid. A relaxed meeting of tongues, an exchange of breath and saliva alike. Mountain's hand glides down the length of their spine, a brief journey that ends with his palm on Mist's sharp hip, fingers dimpling the subtle curve of their ass. They shift a bit, hook a leg over his thigh, and Mountain chuckles at the almost imperceptible weight of it. He smiles against their lips.

"I always forget how small you are," he murmurs, and Mist rewards him with a sharp tug to his chest hair. He gives them a hiss, one that fades into a pleased hum when cool, bony fingers drift down over his stomach.

"No you don't," they say, clearly amused. Mountain pulls back just enough to catch the sparkle in their eyes, a glint of brilliant sapphire in those pale irises.

They're right, of course. It's impossible to forget how tiny Mist is in comparison to him, how seemingly frail. Elegant limbs, bony joints, slender from head to toe. He has a solid two feet on them, and who knows how much weight, but on the rare occasion Mist hunts him down for these trysts it's never them that seems to feel small.

That wandering hand vanishes between their bodies, and Mountain lets his own hand travel down the creamy thigh over his hip, squeezing along the way. Mist licks their lips, gives him a sharp smile.

"But I could say the same about you, big guy."

They punctuate that statement by wrapping deft fingers around his cock, and Mountain groans as he feels them engulf him completely. The one place where he is decidedly not big.

"Oh, someone's excited," Mist sing-songs, giving his little stiffy a nice squeeze. He shivers with it, hips rolling already.

Mountain can't deny it - truth be told he's been chubby since Mist caught him on his way back to the abbey, arms full of freshly snipped roses that Primo had requested for his chambers. He'd pawned that task off on a nearby sibling, content to follow his dick and the stunning ghoul before him instead. Mist thumbs over his sticky head and Mountain huffs out a tight sigh.

"Sensitive as ever," Mist taunts, loosening their grip and giving him a couple of soft little pumps that have Mountain's eyes rolling back. "Planning to blame the weed?"

He always does, but they both know better.

"I can if you want," he rumbles, hitching Mist's leg higher on his hip. "But it's easier to blame you."

Mist laughs, loud and bright in the surrounding silence. They shift closer, close enough that Mountain can feel the brush of their pebbled nipples against his chest, their piercings pressing chilly into his overwarm skin. Mountain drags blunt nails up their thigh, relishing the goosebumps that appear in his wake. He slips his own hand between their bodies, and Mist smiles. They wrap a spindly arm around his neck, arch their back, and with a loose rock of their hips Mountain feels the firm length of their dick press into his thigh

"Looking to return the favor, sycamore?"

Mountain doesn't try to hide his whine, there's no point. He always gets noisy when they do this, and all the high does is make him more willing to let it out. He wraps an eager hand around Mist's already slick length, and they reward him with a tighter grip on his own. Mountain groans deep in his chest, leaning down to knock their horns together.

"You're really hard," he murmurs, the hand in Mist's hair drifting down to settle at the back of their neck, angling their lovely, handsome face towards his own. "Gonna blame that on the weed?"

Mist doesn't deign to answer, getting a nice handful of his hair and licking a wide stripe over his stubbled cheek instead. Mountain feels himself throb in their hand, feels Mist leak over his knuckles, and as they catch him in a decidedly more hungry kiss Mountain lets himself be overwhelmed.

It's easy to do. The smooth swipe of their tongue along his own and behind his fangs drags him further and further down. The slowly tightening channel of Mist's hand pulls pearl after pearl of pre from his firm little cock, the slick sound of both of their hands filling his head with static. Mist's nails rake over his scalp, just sharp enough to provide the hint of a sting, and Mountain doesn't even try to hold back his moan.

It's nice like this. No rushing, no frantic urgency, no pleading for more. No need for it. They both know Mist controls the pace of these stolen moments, and Mountain has absolutely no problem with it. He lets himself enjoy the kiss, the taste of Mist filling his mouth. Fresh and clean with a specific sort of bitterness Mountain has come to crave, all of it accentuated by the herbal flavor of their shared smokable. It's intoxicating, and before Mountain knows it he's panting into their mouth, starved for more.

He pauses on a downstroke, wraps a finger and thumb around the base of Mist's twitching length and slips two fingers back between their legs. He moans out a curse at the slick heat he finds there, swiping his digits through their folds. He dips just one inside, and the tightness he finds there has his stomach swooping.

Mist purrs into the kiss when he swirls it inside, abandoning their grip on his short length in favor of grabbing his wrist. Mountain doesn't fight when they pull his slippery hand from their body, maneuvering it instead to hold the both of them together.

Mountain has to pull back then, chest heaving and eyes glassy as Mist guides him to stroke. The feel of it is exquisite - his large palm is rough, callused, but Mist leaks so much that it eases the glide in moments. The sensation wrings a pained gurgle from him, and Mountain can't keep himself from rocking his hips. From letting his tip kiss the underside of Mist's, every drag of their cocks against one another sending his head spinning and forcing heat to swirl through his belly.

"Fuck," he breathes, long and low. "Mist, fuck -"

"Feeling good, aren't you?" Mist sounds entirely too calm, as they always do, but the way they pulse in his hand betrays them. "Think the little guy's ready for me yet?"

They rock their hips just as Mountain does, ruts their cocks together, and Mountain makes the most embarrassing sound. He gives a quick nod, sucking his lower lip between his fangs, and before he can do anything more Mist is rolling him onto his back. Straddling his hips. Moving him like he isn't at least twice their size everywhere except where it counts.

"That's better," Mist says on a sigh. They settle on their knees, palms flat on his chest, and Mountain gazes up at them with what can only be called unabashed adoration. Mist smiles down at him, tossing the silver curtain of their hair over their shoulder. Mountain rests his hands on their waist, loving the way his thumbs overlap just below their navel. "Don't you think?"

Mountain offers up a dumb little sound of confirmation, too busy visually feasting on the little ghoul above him. Soaking in every angle and curve, every ridge of their gills, the sparkle of their nipple rings and the shimmering black scales decorating their collarbones and the vee of their hips. His gaze halts there, caught completely on the way their shiny pink cock sticks straight out between their skinny thighs.

Mist doesn't miss it, their lips curling into a positively cheshire smile while they scoot forward. While they settle themselves over his own aching length where it lays on his stomach, leaking pre into the smattering of hair there. Mountain chokes on a moan when they shift just enough to drag their dripping cunt over his little cock, and it's a miracle he doesn't cum right then and there.

Not that Mist would allow that, of course. He knows better.

"So warm," they murmur, moving their hips in gentle circles that have Mountain's thighs quivering. "How badly does he want it, hmm?"

"Bad," Mountain rasps, doing his absolute best not to hump up against Mist's inviting body. "He wants in so bad."

Mist trills, a deeply pleased sound. They raise up just enough for Mountain to see the thick trail of slick that connects their bodies, and his cock kicks so hard he grunts.

"Looks like it," Mist chuckles, gripping him again and giving a slow stroke. A blurt of pre leaks over their fingers, and Mountain's balls ache. "Little thing's drooling all over."

Mist is one to talk, their own dick dribbling a nearly constant stream of sticky fluid that pools in Mountain's belly button. He can't get his breath under control as they raise up, pointing his needy little cock up into the air while they line up.

Mountain isn't sure which of them moans louder when Mist sinks down onto him, impossibly tight and so, so slick. He grips them tight, fingertips digging firm into their back, their stomach. He watches the flat plane of it tense when they bottom out, taking his few inches with an ease that leaves his toes curling.

"There we go," Mist coos, narrow chest flushed pink as their leaking tip. They pluck at their nipples, rolling the stiff buds between their fingers and sighing. "You always fill me just right, don't you?" Mountain nods furtively, not trusting his voice when Mist clenches around him. "A perfect little cuntful."

Mountain lets his head thud back against the warm earth, swallows hard, and when Mist starts riding in an achingly slow rhythm he swears the world tilts.

"Be a good boy and make me cum," they say, low and sultry, peeling one of his hands from their waist and moving it to their swaying cock. "If you do well enough I'll even let you eat your load out of me."

Mountain whimpers, starts to stroke, and silently adores the way Mist laughs at him when he drools.

[ganondoodle]

sorry if I missed the post where you talk about this: what made you decide to rename some of the races? love your concepts for kohga / the depths in your ground-up rewrite btw :3 the depths were cool and spooky at first like everything else but they really just feel so empty and same-y on closer inspection

Hi!

thanks for liking the concepts i put out so far :D part of why i dont even like totks gameplay that much either is bc there were so many moments/ideas i found genuinely exciting (like the underground, the pirates, impa saying she wants to help zelda) only to realize all of it goes nowhere and means nothing

as for your question; i .. dont? rename anything? but what could LOOK like im doing that is me largely using the names and descriptions from how they were translated from japanese to my native language german, im most familiar with the german names and usually like them more even if i know their english counterpart by now- like the titans (engl. divine beasts), krogs (engl. koroks), sonau (engl. zonai), gigamas (enlg. froxs?), miasma (engl. gloom?), enigma stones (engl. secret stones??), and names for some characters or places too, like maronus (engl. hestu?) eldra (engl. dinraal) farodra (engl. farosh?) or taburasa (engl. tarrey town)

(though sometimes i use other ones like in case of the rito bc its also rito in the og but for some reason was renamed into 'orni' in german xD rarely i cant quite decide either like with ranelle (engl. lanayru) or phirone (engl. faron))

i know it might be confusing but i guess thats always the case when you are living in multiple languages gndjkbgfnkd (that said, should i put the english names behind the ones im using when writing posts, given i know the english ones, or would that be bad to read?)

[marfsnok]

Rough miasma man concept finally, plus his silhouette. Not official or final, again, rough. I'll try and get all the details and proper colours in another time..

[emeritiii]

Help girl the thoughts are intruding

[iamthecomet]

Smut calling card time

Honestly I don't have one single thing I associate with you like I do with some other writers. I associate you with variety - you never miss with your prompts, even the wild ones!

I'm a big fan of your Aether and whoever you stick him with. Especially Dew or Mountain! ♡♡♡

This is GREAT. I'm one of those people who strives to be good at everything (perfectionism is fun like that). So variety is absolutely one of my goals. I like being a versatile writer. I strive to be able to take whatever is thrown at me and turn it into something fun and good and sexy. So it makes me happy to know that I'm actually succeeding at that. And I'm so glad you like my Aether. I always have so much fun writing him <3. LOVE YOUUUUU. ♥♥♥♥♥