#swiss x mountain

[smokinghoul]

We all know Mountain hates those stupid boots, but Swiss?

Oh, he just can't get enough of them. 🖤

[ashthewaterghoul]

Swiss absolutely has photo albums on his phone just filled with all the spicy pictures and videos he has.

There’s one album for each Ghoul and Ghoulette, and he always loves taking opportunities to add to them and, of course, use them for his own pleasure when he’s alone…

[sentientgolfball]

I'd be Home With You

Continuing the Devotion universe with this sorta sequel! You don't need to read Devotion to understand the story, but if you're worried or just want some added context all you'd need to read is the final chapter. Also Swiss is referred to as Multi throughout most of the story as he has not chosen the name Swiss…yet. Also pspsp @thehypnone

Read here or on ao3

Pairing: Swissalps

Word Count: 19k

Tags: hurt/comfort, Mountain has depression and I apologize in advance, eventual happy ending, one small mention of retching, brief violence

Summary: A new pack and Dew's elemental transition have cast a cloud of dread over Mountain's mind. He tries to remain the pack's perfect provider, but when the earth crumbles the one to fill the cracks is the last person he would have considered.

Or

How Mountain and Swiss fell in love.

Navy blue dappled with sparkles of silver slowly melt away into a soft orange. That soft orange turns into an even yellow before finally giving way to bright blue. Mountain watches each transformation the sky goes through. His head is leaning against his soft downy pillow and his blanket is up to his chin, yet his eyes are wide open. They have been for nearly the entire night. 

Sleep is not something that has been finding him recently. Not since he heard Dew’s screams and smelled the scent of burning flesh. Really it goes back further than that though. His mind has not been grounded ever since Dew first told him and Aether of his plan to become a fire ghoul. That was months ago. Long before the actual ritual. Long before their den was filled with new ghouls of various elements. 

 Mountain sighs. Even though he is beyond exhausted, he throws his blanket off him. He needs to get up. Laying in bed while the sun creeps higher and higher in the sky will do him no good. Though he is not sure how much better it will be to go out into the world with a mask of calm. But someone has to make breakfast. He has to make sure his pack is fed. Because if he will not, then who?

He swings his legs over the side of his bed, hooves clacking when they make contact with the hardwood floor. He stands, making his way to the bathroom. Each potted plant he passes leans in his direction before snapping back into place once he is out of range, as if the leaves and the vines were reaching out to him. He flicks on the light with a claw tipped finger. He takes a moment to just stare at his reflection. Dark circles have formed under his eyes, deep purple against forest green. His hair is getting longer. He does not remember the last time he trimmed it. His fur does not look as shiny as it used to. He barely recognizes himself anymore. 

He tries not to dwell on it. He has more important things to do than worry about his physical appearance. He has a pack that needs to be taken care of. 

He turns on the faucet, letting the water heat to a comfortable temperature. Once warm enough, he cups his hands. He lets it pool in his palms until it spills over before leaning down so he can splash the water in his face. He repeats the process a few more times. Until he deems himself awake and present enough. This has become a daily ritual for him. He used to have enough time to wake up and shower before getting breakfast made for the pack, but with each sunrise he finds himself laying in bed longer and longer. He cannot shower if he wants to have food ready at the same time he always has. So a few splashes of water and maybe some soap, if he remembers, will have to do. 

He lifts his head, making eye contact with his reflection once more as water drips from the fur on his face. He does not stare this time though. Instead he grabs a hand towel and dries himself. When his fur is only a little damp, he tosses the towel in his laundry basket. He takes a deep breath, tilting his head up to the ceiling. He keeps his eyes closed for a moment, searching for his center. Searching for the strength to face the day like everything is normal. He exhales, shoulders falling. He grabs his hearing aids from the corner of the counter, puts them in and walks out of the door. 

His plants reach for him again as he goes, but he does not stop. If he stops now he may not make it out. He walks down the hall, trying to steer his thoughts in the direction of breakfast. French toast sounds good. He brought in a fresh harvest of berries the other day, so he could add strawberries and blueberries to it. Though he is not sure if there is cinnamon in the kitchen. He will just have to see how many ingredients they have. 

As Mountain passes by Dew’s door, his even steps falter. His eyes glance to the handle. He knows Dew is awake. Even before the fire, he was always an early riser. But ever since the ritual, he has woken up the moment the first rays of the sun shine through the dark. Just like every other fire ghoul in the Ministry, called to consciousness by Her energy. 

A part of him wants to twist the handle, see if it is locked. See if he can get in and join Dew for whatever little morning routine he has now, even if it is just laying in bed. Mountain does not think he would mind missing breakfast if it meant hours alone with his Dewdrop. 

But then the cold fog of guilt comes creeping in. He has not entered Dew’s room without explicit invitation since that fight six months ago. When he uttered the words he so desperately wished he could take back. So Mountain just sighs and keeps walking. He will not invade Dew’s space. Especially not first thing in the morning when he has no idea what kind of pain day it is. 

When Mountain rounds the corner to the common room, he is surprised to see Multi sitting at one of the barstools at the kitchen counter. Well, he is not surprised it is Multi, he seems to always be the first up beside Mountain himself. He is simply startled to see anyone else yet. Usually he at least has breakfast started before anyone wanders in. He must have stayed in bed for too long. He will be sure to get up extra early tomorrow to make up for it. 

Multi is humming to himself, tail and legs swaying to the rhythm in his head. Mountain is not exactly a silent creature, but he makes sure his hoof falls are extra heavy so as not to startle him. When that clack clack clack reaches his ears, Multi spins around on his stool and flashes Mountain a fang filled smile. 

“Morning,” his voice is still raspy from disuse. He must have only just woken up. 

“Good morning.” Mountain returns the smile. If he shows no signs of the weight of his exhaustion then perhaps Multi will not question his tardiness. 

“Ya know when I didn’t see you right away I was worried I’d have to figure out food on my own,” He teases, “but hey there’s nothing wrong with a few extra hours.”

Of course. 

Mountain steps fully into the kitchen and opens the top cabinets to look for ingredients, “Yeah. Long day in the greenhouse. Guess I was more tired than I thought.” He keeps his voice light. Easy. Just two ghouls having a conversation. 

He is genuinely glad it is only Multi out here though. He does make it easier. Mountain has probably spent the most amount of time with him versus the other new summons. He always seems so eager to learn so Mountain has been happy to teach. Cooking lessons, an hour or two in the greenhouse to test his earth magick, technology questions. Multi seems to default to him whenever anything new catches his interest. Mountain is thankful for it. It keeps his head clear. As a result, Multi has become familiar. Easy. 

Once Mountain is sure they have all the dry ingredients he floats around the kitchen, grabbing the bowls, cups, and utensils he will need. He can feel Multi’s eyes on him the entire time. He can feel the question burning the tip of his tongue. He is always like this. Always hesitant to actually ask, but once the door opens he never seems to stop. 

“Have I shown you how to make French toast before?” Mountain turns to look at him. 

Multi shakes head causing the golden cuffs adoring his locs to jingle, “Nope.” 

“Come here then.” He smiles softly. 

Multi is quick to hop off the barstool and around the counter into the kitchen. His tag wags happily behind him as he comes to stand beside Mountain. 

“It’s a pretty simple recipe. Kind of like pancakes.” 

“So I’m gonna drop shit on the floor?” 

“I’d like to believe your flipping skills have improved since then.” 

“Only cause I have such a great teacher.” Multi bumps his hip against Mountain’s. 

Mountain simply hums, the smile on his face growing ever so slightly. Multi really has become familiar. An integral part of his morning routine. Rather than drinking caffeinated tea in a futile attempt to wake his brain up, he has Multi’s shining grin to pull his mind from the shadows. It is nice. Especially since he seems to see his original pack less and less with each day. Aether back to working in the infirmary. Dew dealing with his health after the change and his ever growing closeness with Rain. Ifrit and Zephyr doing whatever it is retired ghouls do. 

But Multi is here. Solid and present. He is still so new in comparison, yet Mountain feels content with him. 

“Okay mister chef, how do we make this toast?” Multi eyes the dry ingredients sitting next to the mixing bowl. 

“Grab the milk and three eggs for me?” 

Multi pads over to the fridge, slinging it open with enough force to make a handful of bottles on the door shelf cling together. He pulls out the glass that contains the milk fresh from Ministry livestock. He sets it on the nearest counter before grabbing out three eggs. 

He holds them to his chest like is scared he will drop them otherwise, “Now what?” 

“Go ahead and measure out the dry ingredients.” Mountain chuckles and takes the eggs from him. 

Multi nods and smiles at him before picking up the measuring cups. Mountain tells him how much they will need for each ingredient. Multi is very careful to not spill anything, brow furrowed in concentration as he scoops up flour and sugar and cinnamon. 

Cinnamon. 

Such a strong scent. It had burnt his nose the first time he walked into Dew’s infirmary room. It was so intense. Nothing like Ifrit or Alpha. Sharp and spicy. But still so sweet. A perfect contrast to the bandaged body that laid unconscious under white sheets. 

“How much is a pinch?” Multi holds the container of salt, turning it around in his hands as he examines it. 

Mountain blinks, eyes refocusing as his mind comes back to reality, “What?” 

“You said I needed a pinch of salt. I have no idea what kind of measurement that is.” 

“Right. Yes. It’s uh it’s exactly what it sounds like. Just pinch your fingers in the salt and throw whatever you get into the mix.” 

Multi shrugs, “Whatever you say. What’s next?” 

“Uh milk. We need the milk. Just a cup.” 

Instead of turning to grab the glass container, Multi turns towards Mountain, “You alright? Your inflection sounds weird.” 

He shakes his head and forces a smile onto his face, “I’m fine. Just tired.” 

“Ya know I’m sure I could figure out a decent breakfast if you wanna start sleepin in more.” 

He probably could. Mountain has been giving him cooking lessons nearly everyday. But then what else does he have? If he cannot be the one to provide for his pack then why get out of bed in the morning? He knows Multi is just trying to be helpful. Show his care for Mountain. But he does not understand how badly he needs this. 

“It’s no problem really.” Mountain assures him. 

Multi looks at him like he does not quite believe him, “Well if it ever does become a problem tell me. I’d like to help.” 

Mountain only hums, acknowledging his words but putting an end to this conversation. He slides closer to Multi, “Here let me mix the batter.” 

Multis gives Mountain a lingering look, but scoots off to the side. Though he does not go far. He stays close enough that Mountain’s arm brushes against his each time he grabs one of the cups with the ingredients. Mountain does not mind. It is better than having him continue to insist he take a break. 

He lets Multi watch for a little, just long enough to see how he slowly whisks everything in. When he gets to the last cup he tilts his head towards the stove, “Heat up a pan and grab the bread.” 

He gives Mountain’s arm a squeeze and nods. He crouches down to dig around in the cabinet next to the oven, searching for the same pan they use for pancakes. He makes a little ah ha noise when he finds it. The sound of metal clanging against metal briefly fills the room as he wrestles it out from under the pots. While he does that, Mountain lifts the whisk to watch the batter fall off, testing the thickness. 

Multi stands back up, pan in hand. He swipes the cabinet door closed with his tail as he sets it down on one of the burners. The stove turns on with a click as he turns the dial to a nice medium heat. 

“Remember to—“

“To butter the pan,” Multi smiles at him, “Don’t worry. I got it. I learned my lesson after last time.” 

Last time had Multi scrubbing egg off the pan for the better half of an hour. Mountain was just proud that he did not let anything burn even when it got stuck. 

Mountain lifts the whisk again, giving a satisfied hum. He pulls the bread from the breadbox and grabs the container of butter from the fridge for Multi. He holds it out for him and their hands brush when he grabs it. Mountain then grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer for him. He watches Multi scoop up a little more than probably necessary and plop it onto the pan. The sound of sizzling fills the kitchen and Mountain has to fight to keep his face even. 

Like water getting burnt away into nothing. 

Oh how he wishes he could reach up and rip his hearing aids out so he does not have to listen. 

“Now what?” Multi’s tail begins to wag again. The tip of it brushes against Mountain’s calf with each flick. Mountain’s own tail instinctively reaches out to twine together with his. 

“Now we soak the bread in the mixture. Just two at a time. The pan isn’t big enough for more than that.” Mountain pulls the bowl closer to the stovetop. 

They stare at each other. Neither of them move. Multi then looks between Mountain and the bowl, a look of realization lighting up his face, “You want me to do it?” 

Mountain smiles, “Have to learn somehow.” 

Multi gives him a fang filled grin and grabs two bread slices. He plops them into the mixture with more force than necessary. He pokes them with the tips of his claws, making sure every part of the bread is submerged. Mountain does not have the heart to tell him that he definitely does not need to do that. The look of joy on his face warms his heart. If he can make his packmate happy, then he supposes a few soggy pieces of French toast are fine. He will eat those if he has to. As long as Multi’s eyes continue to sparkle. 

When he deems the bread squishy enough, Multi picks them as carefully as he can. Droplets of the mixture drip down his hand and onto the counter. Then onto the stovetop when he brings it over to the pan. As does this, a few fall into the burner. It makes a hissing noise as the mixture burns. 

Instead of charred sugar and milk, Mountain smells the sour rot of flesh. Acrid. Sickly-sweet. A scent he will never forget. He can hear Dew’s screams echoing in his head. The smell of burning fat and flesh filled the stone hallway like an invisible fog. His stomach churns like it did as he waited outside the ritual room. 

He cannot fight the gag that crawls up his throat. He is lucky he has not eaten anything yet today or it might have come up. His hands slam down heavily on the counter, keeping himself steady with the force his body bends into itself. Salvia fills his mouth and he squeezes his eyes shut as he focuses on pushing the feeling away. 

Burning. 

Dew is burning and he cannot do anything to stop it. 

Dew will die if he tries. 

Dew cannot die. 

Dew has to live. He has to. 

An arm thrown over his shoulders and a hand on his bicep pulls him from his mind. Amber and spice replaces the sour scent as Multi guides Mountain over to one of the barstools. He sits him down, but keeps a hand between his shoulder blades. 

“Mountain?” He asks with concern. 

He shakes his head, “‘M fine.” 

“I don’t think people who are fine do that. What happened?” 

What is he supposed to say? He had to stand guard at Dew’s ritual to make sure it did not get interrupted and now the slightest hint of something burning makes him want to puke? Multi does not need to know that. He does not need to be burdened with the weight Mountain carries. 

“Really I’m okay. Just need to eat something. Must’ve been more hungry than I thought.” 

Multi hums, not totally convinced but not willing to argue either. His hand runs slowly up and down Mountain’s back. Mountain appreciates the gesture. It is soothing. Grounding. Something for him to focus on so his mind cannot slip back. He finds himself leaning into it. 

They sit like that for a little before Mountain tries to stand up again. Though Multi is quick to stop him. 

“You keep your big ass in that chair.” 

“Multi it’s fine. I’m feeling better already.” 

“Nuhuh you’ve been actin weird all morning. Ass. Chair.” 

Multi applies more pressure between his shoulder blades before walking off. Mountain has half a mind to get up and just finish the cooking now that the ghoul almost as big as him is not hovering over him. But then he sees Multi pass the stove in favor of the fridge. He watches him open the door, brow furrowed in confusion. 

“What are you doing?” He asks flatly. 

“You said you were hungry.” Multi pulls the container of blueberries from the fridge alongside one of the jars with chia seed yogurt. 

He grabs a bowl from one of the cabinets before scooping out a decently sized portion of the yogurt. He then dumps way too many blueberries on top before sticking the spoon in there and walking it over to Mountain. 

He just. Stares at him. Nobody else has ever made him food. Minus his summoning day when Dew and Aether tried to bake him a cake. But still. He is the one who provides. 

“Should I have picked the raspberries instead?” Multi teases, but there is a hint of genuine worry in his voice. 

Mountain shakes his head, “No this is. Fine. Thank you.” 

Multi hums, “Of course. Now I better see that thing scraped clean.” He points at him before going back to the stove. 

Mountain does not necessarily feel hungry, especially after that wave of nausea. But it would be rude to not eat what Multi gave him. So he picks at the blueberries that sit at the top while he watches Multi. 

He moves the pan back onto the burner with heat. He stands with his arms crossed and a spatula in hand, watching the bread toast. Waiting for the right moment to flip it. Mountain is reminded of the first time they made grilled cheese together. Eyes glued to the pan as if looking away would magically ruin it. He is always so careful in the kitchen. So attentive to everything. It is fun to watch, even if Mountain would prefer to bury himself in the earth until he feels normal again right about now. 

Multi finishes the first two slices of French toast, flipping them onto a plate with enough force Mountain is worried they will slide right off and onto the floor. Thankfully they do not. They land heavily on the porcelain with a light thunk. Multi smiles to himself before setting the plate down on the counter for Mountain to inspect. He throws the handful of blueberries he has into his mouth, wiping some of the excess juice on his pajama pants before pulling the plate closer. 

The toast is dark, the crust looking a little burnt. Mountain does not have a fork, so he cuts off a piece with the spoon from his yogurt. He pops it into his mouth and hums. Once past the initial crunch, the inside is. Very soggy. It definitely does not help his churning stomach. But he swallows it nonetheless. 

“Not bad. For the next two, try not to let them soak in the mixture as long.” Mountain pushes the plate back over to him so he has somewhere to put the rest as he makes them. 

“Don’t let them soak for too long, got it.” Multi grabs two more slices of bread and throws them into the bowl with the batter. 

The two sit in a comfortable silence while Multi continues to perfect his French toast making skills. He hums as he works, hips swaying with the rhythm. A rhythm Mountain knows. He is humming one of the songs Mountain showed him when he first came to the greenhouse. Some dad rock song that came over the little beat up radio kept in there by the older earth ghouls. Multi had instantly taken a liking to it, so after their work, he had shown him how to get it on his phone. 

Mountain starts to drum his fingers against the counter alongside Multi’s humming. Even though he is not looking at him, Mountain can see the way the corners of his mouth twitch up. It brings a smile to his own face, even if it is a weak one. 

“Didn’t know we had rehearsal this early in the morning,” an airy voice calls out. 

“Lus!” Multi exclaims, tail wagging. 

“Multi!” She laughs and takes a seat next to Mountain on one of the barstools. 

“Good morning,” he says softly, turning his head to look at her. 

“Morning Mounty.” She smiles brightly at him. 

“Breakfast will be ready soon, so you just sit there and look pretty.” Multi flips the next to two finished pieces onto the plate. 

Cumulus points between herself and Mountain, “Me or him?” 

He grins, “Both.” 

Mountain huffs a laugh, but he stands up from the barstool. He pushes what remains of his blueberries and yogurt towards Cumulus. He knows she will be happy to pick at it and finish it off for him. It also gives her something to snack on while she waits since Mountain was so late this morning. He walks back around the counter in the direction of the fridge. When he passes by Multi, he feels his tail wrap around his calf. Mountain stops and turns to look at him. 

He gives Mountain a look. One that screams at him to go sit back down. He appreciates the concern, he really does, but the rest of the pack is starting to wake. It is one thing when it is just him and Multi, but with Cumulus here too he cannot just sit around and do nothing while Multi finishes up. 

“It’s alright,” Mountain whispers to him, “I’m feeling better now that I ate.” 

It is not a total lie. Eating and watching Multi took his mind off that smell. The nausea has passed. He feels well enough to work. 

Multi does not look entirely convinced, but he does let Mountain go. He forces a smile onto his face to reassure him that everything is fine before walking to the fridge. He opens it up and grabs out the rest of the blueberries and the strawberries. They have an abundance of produce right now. Yesterday was a harvest day. Mountain and Biggs picked through every plant that was ready to give. The majority of their yield gets sent to the Ministry kitchen, but the ghouls are allowed to set aside enough for themselves. Once human and ghoul alike have been fed, the remainder is sold in the nearby town. It makes Mountain happy knowing his hands can feed so many people. 

He takes the two containers and sets them up over at the bar. Cumulus trills when they are placed in front of her. Mountain huffs in amusement, “Save enough for everyone.” 

She stabs a strawberry with one of her talons and pops it into her mouth, “They snooze they lose.” 

“Who’s losing?” A sleep raspy voice comes from the hallway. Cirrus steps in the common area, making her way over to Cumulus. She yawns and buries her face in her hair, shoulders rising as she breathes in her scent. 

“Nobody is losing anything love.” Cumulus affectionately reaches up to pat her arm. With her free hand, she sneaks another strawberry, humming with delight. 

Mountain turns away from them, busying himself with the dishes. He is so happy that those two have finally got used to being with a new pack. Cumulus is fun and sweet and has such a way with words. Cirrus is confident and puts so much of herself into the things she does. They really are great. But he cannot stand to look at them when they are together. Lords Below does it make him feel awful, but he just cannot. They remind him too much of what he had with Dew. Of what he lost. Of what he wants back more than anything. 

What he would not give to get that back. 

He jumps a little when he feels something brush against him, causing water to splash onto the counter. Multi’s tail has wrapped itself around Mountain’s. He looks over his shoulder at him, but all he sees is his back. He is still focused on the French toast. Mountain cannot tell if the touch is intentional or not. Either way, he appreciates it. He turns his attention back to the dishes, curling his tail so that they twine together. 

He rinses out the measuring cups, setting them off to the side to dry. He will have to do the rest when Multi is finished cooking and everyone has made a plate. Without anything more to do, he moves to stand next to him at the stove again. He is careful to not tug on their tangled tails. 

“Just about done. Makin the last couple of slices.” Multi presses the spatula down on a piece of toast. 

“They look good.” 

“I just hope they taste good.” 

“They will.” 

Multi smiles, flipping the toast over. When the bread finally cooks to an even brown, he scoops them up and puts them on the plate with the rest. There are enough for each ghoul to have two. Mountain picks the plate up and sets it down at the bar next to the strawberries and blueberries. Multi brings a stack of plates and utensils for the others to use. Cirrus makes a grumbling noise when Cumulus moves to start fixing herself a plate. 

“I’ll make a pot of coffee.” Mountain turns from them quickly. 

Cirrus mumbles something that sounds like a thank you, but it is muffled by Cumulus’ fluffy hair. 

Mountain steps over to the coffee machine, opening it up to put in a fresh filter and fill up the water. He opens the cabinet right above the machine, eyes scanning over the different flavors. He picks out the bag of dark chocolate grounds, Dew’s favorite. He is not sure whether or not the others will like it, but that does not stop him from scooping out enough to fill up the pot. 

While the machine boils the water, Mountain picks out a mug for Cirrus and Dew. Even though he is not here, Mountain knows he will want a cup. He has been drinking more caffeine ever since the ritual. 

“Would you make one for me too?” Cumulus asks. 

Mountain nods and hums, pulling another mug out. Before he closes the cabinet he looks at Multi. 

“Oh nah. I can’t stand that stuff. Tastes like hot bean water.” Multi wrinkles his nose as he fixes himself a plate. 

“That’s because you don’t know how to make it good,” Cumulus teases. 

“Taste is irrelevant.” Cirrus finally lifts her from Cumulus’ hair and takes the seat next to her. She does not make herself a plate yet, but she does pick from the strawberries on Cumulus’. 

Mountain brings the three mugs over just as the coffee machine clicks, signaling it is finished brewing. The noise makes his ear twitch. He picks up the pot, pouring the steaming liquid into each cup. The scent of dark chocolate and coffee wafts through the air. A pleasant smell, but similar to Multi, Mountain cannot get past the taste. 

With each mug filled, Mountain places the now half filled pot back on the machine. He grabs the milk from the fridge and pours it into Cumulus’ mug until the dark liquid turns into a lighter shade. He then adds just a sprinkle of sugar. He does not add anything to Cirrus’ cup. He picks both of them up, walking them over to where the two are sitting. Cirrus takes hers from his hand, not even blowing on it before taking her first sip. Cumulus hums her thanks when he sets hers down next to her plate. 

Mountain gently pats her shoulder before going back to the mug meant for Dew. He picks up the bag of sugar and begins to pour it into the cup as if it was milk or creamer. Too sweet to stomach. Just the way Dew likes it. 

As Mountain stirs the coffee, the scent of petrichor and sea salt breaks through the rich aroma. He looks up to see Rain shuffling in from the hallway. The muscles in Mountain’s jaw flexes as his stomach tightens. If Rain is out here by himself then Mountain was right to not go into Dew’s room earlier. 

“Morning little fishy,” Multi grins at him. 

Cumulus and Cirrus also greet him. 

“Good morning Rainy.” 

“Morning.” 

Rain just simply hums and nods. 

Even though it has been six months since his summoning, Rain is still quiet around the entire pack. He seems most comfortable with only one or two people around. Or Dew. If Dew is nearby then he looks as content as a cat in a sunbeam. If Rain came out to the kitchen without Dew then today must be bad. He normally tries to make an appearance first thing in the morning. His pain usually worsens through the day until Aether can coax him to sleep with a spark of quintessence. It has been getting better. Less flare ups. Lower doses. But there will always be days like this. 

Mountain wishes there was something he could do. When the pain would take hold of Dew for days, Mountain would run himself ragged creating herbal mixture to soothe him. None of them were ever enough. 

Rain makes his way over to Mountain, head ducked just enough that his hair covers most of his face. When he is close enough, Mountain presses the warm mug into his hands. Rain takes it without hesitation. This is not the first time they have done this dance and it definitely will not be the last. 

“He says he can’t eat,” Rain murmurs. 

“Is he okay?” A stupid question. Mountain knows the answer to that. But he needs to know if he has to go pull Aether from the infirmary or not. 

“We’re steaming up the bathroom right now. He wants to see if it helps.” Rain taps his claws against the porcelain of the mug. 

Mountain nods, “I’ll make him something light. His body needs something to burn.” 

Rain nods in acknowledgment and rests his elbows against the counter. He stares down into the mug. Mountain rests a large hand between his shoulder blades, “You need to eat too.” 

“I’m not hungry.” 

“Rain.” 

He sighs, hanging his head. He is still for a moment before pushing his hair out of his face. He turns to glare at Mountain, but does not say anything more. 

“I’ll make you a bagel,” his voice has a hint of finality in it. No room for an argument. Another step to their dance. 

Rain is too much like himself for his comfort. Like a distorted reflection. Rain is so much like how he was when Mountain was still fresh from the Pits. But the way he puts Dew before even his own needs is too similar to how Mountain is now. Maybe that is the reason Mountain has kept him so close compared to the others, even Multi. He cannot bring himself to focus on his own needs, so he makes sure every single one of Rain’s are met. Maybe if he keeps the weeds from sprouting in Rain’s heart then they will not take root in Mountain’s. 

He grabs the bag of bagels from one of the cabinets. He grabs out two, twisting the end of it shut once more. Mountain adjusts the toaster settings before popping the first one in. While it cooks, he goes to the fridge. He pulls out the cream cheese and a slice of raw salmon. The scent of warm bread wafts through the air as the bagel toasts. When it pops, Mountain instinctively jumps. He grabs the two halves, setting them on an empty plate before putting the other two in. He gives it a moment to cool before spreading the cream cheese and cutting it in half. A plain bagel for Dew. 

He goes through the same process for the other bagel, only this time adding the salmon for Rain. The conversations of the pack act as a pleasant background noise. They keep his mind from drifting to far away places. Once he cuts Rain’s bagel in half, he hands the plate to him. 

“Thank you.” Rain shifts the mug so he can grab both. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” Mountain shakes his head, “Just tell Dew I love him.” 

Rain stares at him for a moment. His lips twitch like he wants to say something but apparently he decides against it. He takes the food and Dew’s coffee and turns to leave. 

Mountain follows him with his eyes until he disappears down the hallway. He sighs and rinses off the knife he used to spread the cream cheese in the sink. He has had enough fun for one morning. He is more than ready to head to the greenhouse to get lost in his element until it is time for rehearsal. 

He turns the water off and dries his hands with a nearby rag. He begins to head to his room to get changed, but a hand on his shoulder stops him. He turns to see Multi smiling at him. 

“Any chance I could join you? I wanna work more on what you showed me last time.” 

“Of course. You’re always welcome.” Mountain says it before he can even think about it. Though he does not really need to think about it. Teaching Multi how to tap into his earth magick has become one of his favorite things. 

Multi beams when Mountain says yes. He pats him on the shoulder again, “I’ll go get ready then.” 

Mountain nods and they both walk off. He turns down the right side of the hallway while Multi turns down the left. As Mountain passes by Dew’s door again, he can hear voices. They are too muffled to make out what they are saying though. His hands twitch at his side as he glances at the doorknob. 

One day. One day he will be able to just walk right in like he used to. But today is not that day. 

He continues on to his room, closing the door softly behind him. He takes a moment to slump against the wood. His horns clack against the frame as he closes his eyes and tilts his head back with a deep sigh. He tries to ground himself. Tries to find his center again. A pair of shears to that unkempt garden. 

But then he groans, scrubs his face with his hands, and pushes off the door. He cannot linger. Multi is waiting for him. It is a good thing Multi is waiting. Otherwise he may have been tempted to throw away the shears and let nature reclaim the garden for good. 

He walks over to his closet, fingers petting against leaves and petals as he goes. He pulls out a sandy canvas button down and a pair of grey cargo pants. His go to for working in the greenhouse. It is rather helpful to have so many pockets. Well that is until Mountain forgets he put something in there and then drives himself crazy looking for it. But still. Helpful. 

He tosses his work clothes onto his bed before pulling his sleep shirt off and tossing it into his laundry basket. He does the same with his flannel pants, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He gets dressed quickly, tugging on his pants and then the button down before going into his bathroom. He stares at his reflection, playing with the ends of his hair. He really should cut it. But he is always either too tired or too busy. 

Sometime soon though, he tells himself the same thing everyday. 

He grabs a hair tie from the dish on his sink, pulling it back into a loose bun. Something simple just to keep it out of his face while he works. He keeps gaze away from the mirror as he turns and leaves the bathroom. He quickly waters his plants that need it before heading back into the hallway to go find Multi. That ever present nagging of guilt chews at his insides as he walks. Usually he likes to take his time with his plants, check in with each of them. See how they are doing. What they need. But because he woke up too late, he does not have the time. He never seems to have the time anymore. Just another reason to wake up extra early tomorrow. 

He spots Multi waiting where the hallway opens up to the common room. He shifts his weight back and forth on his feet, staring out of a nearby window with a small smile on his face. He looks happy. Content. It chases away that nagging. Shrinks the gaping hole. 

“Ready?” Mountain rumbles when he is close enough. 

He immediately turns around at the sound of his voice, small smile only growing wider, “Course I am. Oh wait. Here.” 

He shoves a brown paper bag into Mountain’s hands, “Made us lunch. It’s nothing crazy, just some pb and j but ya know. So we don’t starve out there.” 

“Oh. Thank you. If you were still hungry though, I could've made you something.” 

“I just said they were for later Mount,” he teases, “consider it my thanks for teaching me a new recipe this morning.” 

“Alright,” Mountain offers him a smile, “Well then if you’re ready we can head out.” 

“After you big guy.” He gestures to the door with one hand. 

Mountain heads toward the door. He waves his goodbye to Cirrus and Cumulus who are still sitting at the barstools. Before leaving, he pauses to grab his leather messenger bag that hangs on the coat rack. While he does that, Multi slips on his boots and crouches down to lace them. Mountain waits patiently for him, adjusting the strap of his bag so it is comfortable on his shoulder. When Multi stands again, he smiles at Mountain and laces their hands together. A touchy ghoul since the day he was summoned. 

Mountain gives his hand a light squeeze and opens the door. The sun is high in the sky, casting shining columns of light through the grand windows of the Ministry. Siblings and ghouls walk through the hallways, murmuring their good mornings as they pass the two on the way to their own duties for the day. Mountain simply nods with a smile while Multi greets every one of them. 

When they are not passing by the other inhabitants of the Ministry, they walk in a comfortable silence. Mountain is always reminded of Dewdrop when they walk together. Just like him, Multi can talk for hours on end but then be perfectly content without making a noise. Like some kind of switch has been flipped. Dew only gets silent around humans he does not know. It makes him wonder what causes Multi to go quiet. 

They eventually reach the door that connects the greenhouse to the Ministry. It is on a more remote side. Far from the chapel and the den. Mountain does not mind it though. There is something nice about being able to see the sun rising through the windows, painting the ancient stone architecture pink. Though it is not like he has seen it recently. Not with his habit of lingering under his sheets. 

“I swear that walk gets longer every single time,” Multi huffs with a smile. 

“Well you don’t have to make it if you don’t want to.” Mountain pushes the door open, holding it for Multi. 

He steps inside, “What? And miss out on quality dirt boy time?” 

Mountain hums a laugh and follows in after him. The moment his hooves make contact with the dirt floor he pauses. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, breathing in the musky, earthy scent. The tension in him seems to melt away as he is enveloped in his element. He scuffs his hooves, digging them deeper into the dirt. He can feel the hum of the earth. The vibration of life. It greets him warmly, arms wide open to welcome home. The temptation to take root is strong, but he cannot. He has work to do. Ghouls to look after. 

He opens his eyes and starts walking to his work bench, Multi tailing after him. He sets the paper bag with his lunch in it on the nearby shelf so it does not get in the way. He picks up his apron, unfolding it and shaking out some of the excess streaks of dirt from yesterday's work. It does not really do much. The material has long since stained. No amount of washing will ever get it all the way out. 

He puts it on, tying the strings comfortably around his waist. Multi has already grabbed one of the spares that hang on the wall by the sink. He crosses the strings behind his back before bringing them to the front to tie. Once that is situated, Mountain pulls out a pair of gloves and tosses them to Multi. Mountain never uses them. He prefers to feel everything that is around him. Sometimes he ends the day by picking thorns from his palms, but it is worth knowing that the roses wanted more sunlight. 

Multi slips the gloves onto his hands, flexing his fingers as he walks back over to Mountain, “So what’s the plan?” 

“Harvest the vegetables.” Mountain hands him a basket. 

He raises an eyebrow, “Thought you said yesterday was harvest day?” 

“It was. Biggs and I picked all the berries, but there’s a lot more that still needs to be done.” 

“Riiight. So I just,” he makes a nonsensical gesture with his hands, “pull shit from the ground?” 

Mountain huffs a laugh, “More or less. I’ll show you.” 

He leads Multi over to where the vegetable rows are. He figures starting with the tomatoes and peppers will be easier than the carrots or potatoes. He brings him to the towering vines, light reds and oranges peeking through the green foliage. Water droplets glisten off the flesh, making them shine. Mountain palms one of the larger tomatoes, giving it a light squeeze. The fruit gives a little before slowly bouncing back into shape. Definitely ready for harvest. 

He nods his head, motioning for Multi to come closer. He awkwardly shuffles over, shoulder pressing against Mountain’s as he looks down at the tomato in his hand. 

“You see how it’s a kind of pinky color?” Mountain asks in a hushed tone. It always feels right to keep his voice low on harvest days. 

“That’s orange. Maybe yellow.” Multi raises an eyebrow at him. 

Mountains chuckles, “It’s just a term. When they’re like this they’re called pink or blushing since they’re getting closer to red.”

“Uhhuh…”

“It means they’re ready to be picked.” He pinches the vines between thumb and forefinger as close as he can get to the tomato. He twists and pulls with expert force, pulling it free from the plant in one smooth motion. He places it in his own basket down by his hooves. 

Multi blinks at him before turning his attention to the plant Mountain pulled from. He grabs one of the tomatoes that have a similar color. He mimics Mountain, giving it a squeeze even though he is not quite sure what he is looking for. Mountain watches though, humming in approval. 

“That’s a good one,” he says gently, “be careful when you pull it. Try to get as close to the body as possible. We don’t want to hurt the vines.” 

Multi hesitates to pluck it from the plant. He tries to keep his normal face of confidence, but Mountain can tell by the flick of his ears that he is nervous. For what, he has no idea but Mountain does not care. He can take this as slow as he needs. 

Mountain reaches into the basket he handed Multi. He pulls out a pair of shears, “Here. It’ll be easier if you use these.” 

Multi takes them from him, turning them over in his hand, “Thanks. So where do I…?” 

He traces his claw at the perfect spot for Multi to cut, “You don’t want to take too much of the vine with you.” 

He nods and snips the shears in the same place Mountain pointed out. The leaves rustle as the tomato breaks free from the vine and it snaps back into place without the excess weight. Mountain pats him on the shoulder with a smile, “That was good.” 

Multi beams at the praise, shadows of his nerves melting away. He places it in the basket Mountain had handed to him, “That’s all there is to it?” 

Mountain hums and nods, “Yup. Well. Now that you know what you’re doing, how about you do these and I’ll take care of the peppers?” 

“You want me. To do it by myself?” 

Mountain nods again. 

“But what if I fuck something up? I don’t wanna ruin your plants.” 

“You won’t,” Mountain shrugs, “but if it really worries you, try to listen to them with your magick. They’ll tell you everything they need.” 

Multi still looks unconvinced, but he does not protest. Mountain quickly knocks their horns together before standing, grabbing his own basket, and heading over to the rows with the peppers. 

Normally Mountain would not dare let anyone who is not an earth ghoul near the produce. It is too important, feeds too many people, for him to feel comfortable with it. But he is confident in what Multi can do. He is keen on learning and understanding everything shown to him. His earth magick is already so much stronger than what it was six months ago. Mountain does not think there is anyone else he would rather have helping him. 

Well. 

Except one. 

Dew used to come out here to help. Back when they were both so new to it all. Back when Mountain was still finding his own footing as one of the greenhouse earth ghouls. Dew used to come out here to find him. Spend time with him. When Mountain got overwhelmed, he would be there to help him go through the rows to water everything. He always had such a gentle touch, hyper aware that Mountain had a connection to the plants. Like taking care of them somehow would make adjusting to the Topside easier on him. 

Mountain cannot remember the last time Dew came to the greenhouse. It was before the ritual that is for sure. He still gets a regular visitor in the form of Multi, but. He misses the scent of spring water and wet moss. 

He startles when he feels something slither around his pointer and ring fingers. He looks down to see one of the vines of the green pepper plant wrapping around him. He blinks at it before thumbing over the leaf. Gently. Soothingly. Guess that is his queue to get to work. 

His body works almost automatically at this point, pinching and pulling the peppers from their vines and placing them in his basket. He occasionally lifts his head to steal a glance at Multi. He is so focused, eyebrows pulled together in a little furrow. Far behind Mountain in the rows too, taking his time with each and every tomato. It makes Mountain smile, watching him be so careful with the plants he cares so deeply about. 

He always is. It makes Mountain wonder how his earth magick is barely present. It seems so natural to him. Though he supposes he knows nothing about multi ghouls. How their mix of all the elements works. That and Multi is mostly quint and fire. Probably means he lived somewhere without much green Down Below. But he could be wrong. Mountain does not know. Nobody does really. Multi has yet to utter a single word about his time in the Pits. He understands, it is not always a kind place. But it does make him wonder. 

The next time Mountain raises his head to glance at him, he catches Multi’s eye. Mountain immediately ducks his head again, staring at the group of peppers he is working on. 

“Caught you staring Mountain,” he teases, dragging out his name. 

“Not staring. I was just checking on you.” He has the urge to stomp on his tail to stop it from flicking. 

“More like checking me out,” Multi laughs. 

Mountain snuffles, pulling another pepper off its vine and into his basket. They are silent for a few moments before Multi speaks again. 

“But uh seriously now. Am I. Doin okay?” All the bravado gone from his voice. 

It amazes Mountain how quickly he switches between bold and confident to soft sincerity. And it makes his head spin just a bit. He thinks he knows who the real Multi is, but he is never quite sure. 

Mountain lifts head again to smile at him, “You’re doing just fine.” 

His eyes seem to light up again, corners of his mouth tugging up into a grin, “Just fine?” 

Mountain rolls his eyes, stepping over to the next row of peppers. They go back to working in a comfortable silence. The rustling of leaves as they harvest the produce is the only sound filling the space. Occasionally they can hear a bird chirp or some Siblings shouting from somewhere outside. The sun is at Her highest point now, bathing the greenhouse in Her rays. It is warm, but not unpleasantly so. At least, not yet anyway. Though Mountain starts to wish his winter coat would finish shedding. It is already late spring and he still has thick tufts all over his body. 

Multi’s hums begin to join in with the bird songs the longer they go. They are all nonsensical, not a single tune Mountain recognizes. Simply just whatever rhythm lives in his head. But then it slowly morphs into something he does know. Quite well actually. One of the Cardinal’s songs, Rats. The one they have been drilling over and over again in all of their recent rehearsals. 

Mountain’s tail starts to thump back and forth with the beat, instinctively keeping time even when he is not behind his kit. He bobs his head too as his mind fills in the lyrics. 

“Rats,” Multi mutters before sticking his head up to look at Mountain, “What the fuck is a rat anyways?” 

“Did you ever see a diabolus mus Down Below?” 

“Course. Fuckers were everywhere.” 

“Rats are like that. But a lot smaller and without all the spikes and fire.” 

“Huh. Gross.” 

Mountain huffs a laugh and steps around to the next row. They continue to work, conversation sparking up every so often. Mountain finishes harvesting all of the peppers before Multi is done with the tomatoes. He sets his baskets off to the side, grabbing an empty one to help him. By the time both of their baskets are full, they are sweaty and hungry. 

They each gather their harvest and bring it over to the largest workbench in the back corner of the greenhouse. Luckily they do not have to do the sorting, that job is reserved for Biggs. Instead, they wash their hands and shuffle back over to Mountain’s workbench where their lunches await. Mountain offers the stool for Multi, but he refuses. He insists Mountain sit at his own seat. After a never ending back and forth, Mountain relents and pulls the stool out. Multi grins happily and plops himself down on the nearby bags of soil. 

“Thank you again for making this,” Mountain says as he opens the paper bag. 

“Mount it’s a sandwich and two oranges. It’s not like I made you a five course meal,” Multi laughs. 

“And I appreciate it,” he says simply. 

Multi pulls one of his oranges from his bag, “Well I’m glad.” 

He stabs his claw into it with more force than necessary for peeling a fruit. Juice squirts out, dribbling down his arm and onto his pants. He hisses, shaking his hand and flinging stray droplets everywhere in a futile attempt to get the stickiness off of him. Mountain sets his still wrapped sandwich down, leaning forward and holding out his hand. He motions for Multi to give it to him. He does so, standing to go wash his hands once Mountain takes it. 

“Still not used to how soft everything is Topside,” he throws over his shoulder from the sink. 

Mountain hums in acknowledgment as he slides his own claw into the puncture Multi made. He gets the peel under tip before slowly turning the orange in his hand. The skin follows easily, peeling off in one perfect spiral. 

“How do you do that so good?” Multi cocks his with a smile as he walks back over. 

“Don’t know. Lots of practice I suppose.” He picks off some stray pieces of the peel before handing the now naked fruit back to Multi. 

He sinks his fangs into it, tearing half of the flesh off in one bite. Juice drips down his chin as a rumbly little purr kicks up in his chest. Mountain just smiles and begins to peel his own orange. He gathers all of the skin in a pile to dry later before picking out pieces of the fruit one at a time. 

Conversation carries easily between them as they finish their lunches. Mountain gathers their trash and tosses it away into one of the bins near the main entrance of the greenhouse. He rolls his shoulders as he walks back over to where Multi is sitting, stretching the stiff muscles and popping his joints. His tail wags as Mountain reappears. 

“Back to harvesting I presume?” Multi stands up, ready to grab another basket. 

Mountain hums, “No. figured we could work on your magick.” 

“Oh thank the Lords Below. My back was starting to kill me. Not that I didn’t enjoy it but well.” He shrugs and smiles. 

Mountain just goes back to his work bench, clearing off as much room as he possibly can, “Go on then.” 

Multi gives him a pat on the back before dashing off to the corner they keep his mini pots at. Mountain has been teaching him to feel the earth the way he does. Hear Her song. Her voice. If he can do that then the rest will come easily. He has been doing this by giving him some spare seeds. Something to grow all on his own so he can tune into the whispers of the plants. Progress has been slow, but still, Mountain can see him improving every single time they do this. 

He returns, four mini pots clutched to his chest and a blinding grin on his face. He sets them down carefully and looks at them with pride. Each of them has the smallest dot of green beginning to push through the dirt. 

“Which do you want to work with this time?” Mountain cannot help but trail his fingers over the lip of the terracotta, dipping his claw into the soil. Listening. 

“Sheryl.” 

“Sheryl?” 

“Yeah Sheryl.” Multi points to the pot marked mint. 

Mountain has no idea when he decided to give them names, but it makes him smile, “Sheryl it is.” 

He pulls the mint pot forward, setting it between the two of them. He gives it a quick once over with his own magick, making sure it is in the right condition before letting Multi practice. 

“Remember what I told you last time?” He nudges it closer to him.

Multi nods, voice suddenly quiet, “Listen for their voice because they’ll tell me what I need to do.” 

“Good,” he praises, “try helping her grow.”

His lips pull together in a thin line as he turns his attention from Mountain to the pot. He reaches forward and grabs it, bringing it close to him. He stares at it, thumb rubbing up and down the smooth terracotta. It feels like an eternity of Multi just staring at the plant. Mountain does not rush him though. The earth requires patience. 

Multi chews his lip, “How do you do it? Make them grow?” 

“I told you. Listen to them,” he speaks in a hushed tone. 

“But what does that mean Mount? They don’t have voices, all I can hear is sounds.” 

Mountain hums in thought, “You’ve used your quintessence to heal before yes?” 

He nods. 

“Well it’s like that,” Mountain grabs some stray seeds scattered on the workbench, “You have to connect yourself to them. Find the part of them that needs nurturing and pour yourself into it. You become the thing that gives them life. Give it to them with a gentle hand.” 

He squeezes his hand shut. His eyes seem to shine a beautiful green as the scent of pine and freshly churned dirt fills the air. When Mountain opens his hand again, a white carnation rests in his palm. Multi delicately picks it up, brushing his thumb through the petals before tucking it behind his ear. 

“I don’t think I can do that,” he admits. 

“You can.” 

He stares back down at the mint pot. Mountain can see the gears turning in his head, lip still pulled between his fang. He finally relents, taking a deep breath and bringing the pot close to his face. Multi closes his eyes, letting his fingers dip into the moist dirt. He begins mumbling to himself, but Mountain tries to tune it out. Whatever words he speaks now are not for him. They are meant for the earth. 

He can feel it when it happens, Multi’s earth element sparking to life. It smells herbaceous and sits thickly on his tongue. Mountain locks his eyes onto the ring sprout of the mint plant, watching for any signs of change. For a moment nothing happens. But then very slowly, the green begins to grow. The little sprig grows taller and taller as more leaves begin to shoot from the stem. Soon another branch pushes its way from the dirt. Then another and another. It is growing quickly. 

A little too quickly. 

“Multi.” Mountain calls his attention back. 

The moment he says his name, the growing stops. Multi cracks his eyes open, the normal black and white overtaken by a deep forest green as his earth still flows through him. 

“Did I fuck up?” 

“Well I wouldn’t say that.” Mountain motions with his head to look. 

He now completely opens his eyes to see the nearly fully grown mint plant. His expression immediately lifts, eyes shining as his lips pull up into a beaming smile. His tail starts to wag rapidly behind him, “I did that?” 

“I knew you could.” 

Multi laughs and raises his pot into the air, “I made a fucking plant grow! I actually did it!” 

Mountain laughs with him, but it quickly dies in his throat. That look in his eye. So much like Dewdrop. It teleports him back to the first time he came to help Mountain water the flowers. He looked so pleased that he was actually able to conjure a water bubble. He was so happy that he could actually help. 

A lifetime ago. 

“Mount?” 

He shakes his head, turning his eyes back to Multi with a hum. 

“You good? You spaced out there.” Multi raises an eyebrow. 

“Yes, sorry. I was just. Thinking about how we should move Sheryl to a bigger pot.” 

“Oh. Yeah I guess that makes sense. Have any laying around?” 

Mountain stands from his stool and walks over to the sink area. Usually they did have some extras, though with it being late in the season he is not quite sure if they will have anything bigger. And he just needed to get away. He liked Multi he really does and he is beyond proud of him, but that look. It just makes him hurt knowing Dew will probably never show him that look ever again. Multi does not deserve to have his happiness crushed because of Mountain. He cannot do that to another ghoul. 

He locates another pot after taking a moment to breathe. It is not that much bigger than the mint’s current one, but it will do for now. Until something else can be moved into the garden. He takes it back over to Multi who smiles when he sees him again. 

“Do you want me to do it or do you remember from last time?” Mountain sets it down between them. 

“Nah I got it. She’s mine, I should take care of her.” Multi looks at the soil selection on the workbench. 

Mountain waits to see if he remembers what kind best suits mint. His hand hovers over something that holds a lot of water and he makes a noise in the back of his throat. 

“Maybe a different one.” 

“Right right. I was just testing you.” Multi’s eyes scan over the selection again before landing on a good one this time. Though before he picks it up, he glances at Mountain. He nods and Multi grins. 

He opens the bag and begins to scoop dirt out with his bare hands. Mountain watches him for a little before that voice in the back of his head creeps in. Whispers to him. Makes his jaw clench so hard his teeth hurt. This is not fair to Multi. 

He stands abruptly, “While you work on that I’m going to finish harvesting. If you need help I’ll be in the potatoes.” 

“Oh. Uh. Yeah okay. I’ll come over when I’m done.” He barely gets the words out before Mountain has turned around in the direction of the vegetable rows. 

What is wrong with him? He is supposed to care for these ghouls and he cannot even look at Multi’s face without his chest aching. He needs to be better than this. 

Maybe some time alone in his element will clear his head. Let Her take it away from him. At least, that is what he begs for when he sinks his claws into the dirt to pull at the potatoes. 

Mountain gets about halfway through the rows when Multi joins him again. He does not say anything, neither of them do. Mountain is focused on each plant that he barely notices when he first approaches. The silence is not the same as before. It hangs in the air as they work side by side. It is not until the Ministry’s bell rings that Mountain realizes how much time has passed. 

He stands from where he was kneeling with a groan, brushing dirt off his apron. The sun is beginning to sink lower in the sky, not quite setting but enough to make the blue of the sky darker. When the bell stops ringing, Mountain cracks his back. It is time for rehearsal. 

He steps over to where Multi is crouched a few rows from his. He does not look up at him until Mountain extends his hand. He blinks, glancing between Mountain’s face and his hand before deciding to take it. He hauls him, patting him between the shoulder blades. 

“Thank you for your help today.” Mountain gives his hand a squeeze. 

The corner of Multi’s mouth twitches up into a smile. It only makes Mountain feel worse. 

“It was all my pleasure and I’ll happily do it again. Dirt boy.” 

Mountain offers him his best smile at the nickname. It does make a small part of him feel better though. It does not seem like he totally ruined Multi’s day. 

“Alright come on now,” Mountain tugs at his hand, “we can’t be late to rehearsal.” 

Multi waves his hand, “Ah what’s a few minutes, Cardi won’t care.” 

Despite his words, Multi does walk off with Mountain. The pair cleans up as best they can, washing their hands and putting their aprons back on the hooks. Mountain is definitely worse for wear, dirt smeared on the sleeves of his shirt and the bottom of his pants. It does not bother him though. He really only notices it when Multi points it out by trying to brush it off. 

Mountain does not let him fuss over it though, stepping away towards the main doors. Multi jogs after him, flicking his tail against Mountain’s when they are side by side. He hesitates for just a moment before flicking his in return, giving his permission. Multi immediately takes it, twining their tails together. 

The halls are much more alive than what they were this morning. Siblings and ghouls bustling through. Finishing their chores and heading back to their dorms to change for dinner. None of them greet the pair this time, too caught up in their own conversations. It does not bother Mountain though. He is happy to fade to the background as they make their way to the practice room. Multi still offers every one of them a wave or a smile. 

The journey to the rehearsal room is much shorter than the one they took this morning. The crowd thins as they get closer, as stone and marble turn to wood and metal. This part of the Ministry was added much later, a renovation when the Clergy first created the Ghost Project. Stuck at the back of the building so as not to break up the flow. A pair of metal doors painted black is the only thing separating the rest of the inhabitants from the work they do. The music they create. 

Mountain pushes those doors open, holding them so Multi can enter first. It is a stark contrast to the greenhouse. Bright fluorescent lighting and blasts of cold air. The floor is carpeted with a few odd stains dotted around. A mock stage, if it can even be called that, takes up most of the space. 

The Cardinal looks up from where he is talking to Cirrus and Cumulus. He smiles and waves at them. Mountain is a bit surprised to see they are not the first ones here. The Cardinal is a given, he is always punctual, but usually Mountain is the first ghoul to be present. He should have paid better attention to the time. Tomorrow, he can fix his schedule tomorrow. 

“Mountain, Multi! It is ehh good to see you!” the Cardinal greets as they step further into the room.  

“Cardi. Ladies.” Multi grins at them. He walks closer to them, opening his arms for a hug. Cumulus is quick to dodge him with an indignant squawk. 

“Don’t you dare touch me! You stink!” The feathers on her neck poof up, but there is a smile on her face. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. C’mooon Lussy c’mere!” Multi swipes at her, trying to wrap her in his arms. 

She laughs and jumps away again, “Absolutely not!” 

They stare at each other for a moment. Multi’s tail whips back and forth, like a cat who caught a glimpse of a bird in a window. Cumulus’ feathered tail splays out behind her. As if they could read each other’s minds, she darts off at the exact same moment he tries to pounce on her. Their laughter fills the practice room as he chases her around the space. 

The Cardinal watches them nervously, wringing his hands. Mountain can tell just by the look on his face that he does not know if he should stop them or not. He glances at Cirrus every so often, trying to gauge her reaction. She is watching them as well, eyes glued to Multi. The fact that she does not seem like she is going to intervene seems to keep him quiet. 

Mountain crosses the rest of the distance to stand with them, The Cardinal gives him a lopsided smile, “I hope the ehh planting was well for you today.” 

“We finished harvesting most of the vegetables,” Mountain says simply. He is still not quite sure how he feels about the Cardinal. He seems mousy but he acts high and mighty whenever the Clergy is around. A complete opposite of Terzo. Not that Mountain really got to know Terzo before he was dethroned. But he was the man who summoned him. By nature he has a loyalty to him. 

“Good good. Well ehh keep up the great work!” He nudges Mountain lightly on the arm. 

“Speaking of work…” Cirrus chimes in. Her hand darts out the next time Multi and Cumulus run past them, scruffing him by the back of the neck causing him to yelp. 

“…shouldn’t we get started?” 

“Aw come on Cir, we’re still missing like half of our damn band.” He tries in vain to wiggle free from her iron grip. 

“I would love to leoncina, but Multi does make a good point.” He toys with his fingers as he speaks. 

Rain, Aether, and Dew are the only ones missing. It makes Mountain’s stomach churn. He knows Dew is struggling today if his absence at breakfast is anything to go off of. This would not be the first time he has missed a rehearsal because of it, but the other two not being here. It makes him only think of the worst. What if Dew is being rushed to infirmary right now and Mountain is not there with him? What if he is already at the infirmary and Aether nor Omega can help him? 

What if? What if? What if? 

As if they could hear his thoughts, the door to the practice room swings open only a minute later. Aether enters first, a smile on his face despite the dark circles under his eyes. Rain follows in after him, expressionless as ever. To Mountain’s surprise, Dew brings up the rear. He looks small. Of course he is not the largest ghoul, but he always carries himself in a way that makes him seem bigger. But right now he is slouched over with his arms wrapped around his middle. There is a furrow between his brow and scowl on his face. Mountain does not know if it is from anger or pain. 

Both seems like a good guess though. 

“Ah there you are my ghouls!” Copia spreads his arms, gesturing with his hands. “I was wondering where—“ 

“Let’s just get started.” Dew grits out as he stomps over to the guitar rack. 

“Eh hehhhh right. Yes. Let’s.” The Cardinal deflates a little before shuffling over to the podium to get his papers in order. 

As the ghouls begin to get set up for rehearsal, Mountain makes his way over to Aether. He taps him on the shoulder, dragging his attention away from where he had begun to pull out his guitar. 

“What do ya need Mount?” He looks up at him, smile still on his face. 

“Is he okay?” He keeps his voice low so Dew will not hear him. 

Aether’s smile falters for only a moment before it is back, “It’s his joints. Rain brought him down just before rehearsal to get some quint. Couldn’t give him much though because he had a treatment yesterday. That’s why he looks so grumpy.” 

“Should he even be here then?” 

“Do you wanna tell him to go sit and do nothing?” 

Aether sighs, eyes dropping to the floor, “I tried Mount. Believe me I did. But he wouldn’t listen.” 

Of course he did not. Stubborn as always. More so now that fire courses through his veins. Dew will not rest until his body gives out on him. But it makes Mountain worry. He still needs to heal. He still needs to take it easy while he adjusts to his new element. So much could still happen to him. Delta did not succumb to the void right away after all. Nobody knows what lies in store for Dew. 

“I know. I believe you. I just want him to be okay.” 

“We all do.” Aether rests a hand on Mountain’s arm. He pulls him down and Mountain goes easily. Aether presses a quick kiss to his lips when their faces are level. 

“It’ll all work out sapling. Now go get ready so we can rock out.” Another kiss and then Aether pats his cheek before letting him go. 

Mountain bumps their horns together and then leaves him to go get ready. He tries to focus on Aether’s optimism. Take it at face value. But he knows him too well. It is not optimism. It is desperation. He could almost hear the it has to as he spoke to him. But if he can lie to himself, convince himself Aether really is confident everything will be okay, then maybe it will come true. Anything to get the pit inside of him to be filled. 

As he goes to his drum kit, he passes by Multi’s mock platform. He sits cross legged in the center with his guitar in his lap, tail swiping back and forth as he tunes. He pauses only to lift his head and wave at Mountain as he goes by. He waves back only with much less enthusiasm than Multi. It is like his body is running on autopilot as his gaze keeps finding its way across the room. To Dewdrop.

 He cannot hear him from here, but he can see the way his lips curl up in a snarl at something Rain says. Dew immediately hangs his head though. Should he go over there? Try to talk to him? Convince him to rest? But would Dew even care? If Aether could not get through to him, then Mountain certainly will not. Maybe in a different time, a different life, one where there is not a stain on their hearts. But not this one. 

“Hey Mountain!” Multi calls. 

He lifts his head and stares at him, eyes wide. 

“Pass me the tuner will you?” 

He nods and digs through the cabinet that is right behind his kit. All of the excess electronics are kept here. Spare mics, tuners, in ear monitors. Alongside Mountain’s spare sticks.

He grabs the little grey box and tosses it over to Multi. He beams brightly in return, chirping a loud thank you. Mountain is not even sure why he wants it. He is confident in saying Multi probably has perfect pitch. He has watched him during rehearsal enough times to guess as much. He is probably wrong though. All he has been is wrong lately. 

He grabs a monitor from the cabinet and a pair of sticks before sitting himself down behind his kit. He places his things onto the ground, freeing up his hands to stretch. He cracks his knuckles before sticking his arm out with his palm out and fingers pointing up. He wraps his other hand around his fingers and pulls back just until he feels the muscles in his wrist and forearm grow taut. He holds for a moment before repeating the stretch on the opposite hand. 

As he does this, the room becomes abuzz with disjointed notes. Plucks of strings and vocal warm ups and squeals of keys. Mountain soon joins in, tapping his way through his scales. 

“Alright my ghouls!” Copia speaks through his mic, “Let us pick up where we left off last time with ehh Dance.” 

Everyone gets into their places as Mountain puts in his monitor. He sets the metronome to the proper speed, tail flicking with each tick. He has each song memorized by heart at this point. A result of long hours spent practicing when his mind would wander too far in the dead of night. He could probably get by without the metronome at this point, but still he uses it. He has to make sure he is right on time so that the others can follow. 

“Mountain. Whenever you are ready.” The Cardinal gives him a nod. 

Mountain returns the gesture, tapping his hoof against the floor to find the beat. When he gets it, he shifts to press against the pedal of the bass drum. Dew’s guitar joins in two counts behind where it normally should. The notes sound shaky at first, like he is not quite pressing down on the strings hard enough. Mountain has to resist the urge to look at him. If he does he knows he will see pain etched onto his face, there is no other reason Dewdrop would not be perfect. It will throw his focus. He needs to stay focused so they can get through this rehearsal. 

Despite the unsteady beginning, the rest of the ghouls quickly find the rhythm. Aether and Rain join in at the proper counts as do Cirrus and Cumulus. The Cardinal stands center stage, watching all of them play as he nods his head to the beat. This is how they always start, with the song they finished with last time. One run without vocals to warm up and then another with Copia joining in. 

They have been working on Dance Macabre for a while now. Once they settled on their opener, the Cardinal insisted they move onto one of their closers. Something along the lines of starting strong and finishing stronger. 

They get through the first run fine. No hiccups minus a few wrong notes from Aether near the end. The Cardinal praises them, applauding as the room goes silent again. 

“Molto bene! Let’s ehh see if we can improve.” He points at Mountain, giving him the go ahead. 

They start again, only this time Copia’s voice joins the mix. He wanders the mock stage as he sings, going through the blocking he has in his head. He drifts a little too close to Dew though. Mountain can hear the faintest hiss catch on the microphone. He grits his teeth and slams his stick down on the cymbal with more force than really necessary. 

Get through rehearsal. Just get through rehearsal and then he can rest again. Stay focused. 

They wrap up Dance with no bumps this time. The Cardinal finally must feel satisfied with it because he does not have them run it again. Once again, praise falls from his lips when the last note rings through the air. He keeps babbling on as he shuffles over to the podium where all his papers are. He sifts through them, mumbling to himself as he decides what to do next. 

Without the music, the urge is too great to resist. Mountain glances over in Dew’s direction. He is looking down at his hand as he opens and closes his fist, flexing his fingers. Mountain can see the way they shake from his platform. Clearly he is not the only one who sees it too as Aether wanders over to Dew. Aether takes his hand in his, bringing it up to his lips. Mountain’s nose twitches at the pop of ozone in the air, gone just as quickly as it came. He watches as Dew’s shoulders sag ever so slightly in relief. 

All he can do is watch. That is all he can ever do. Watch. He longs to do more yet the claws of guilt keep him pinned in place. Dew would have every right to turn him away but Mountain fears if he does, the weeds will over take the garden. 

Thankfully though, before Mountain can contemplate any longer, the Cardinal pulls them back together. He decides they will work through the first three songs of the planned act one setlist. Mountain adjusts his metronome, grips his sticks, and waits for the Cardinal’s direction. 

It all goes fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary. Rain nearly tripping over a cord, Aether falling out of time, the Cardinal forgetting his own lyrics. But they still manage to work through their problem spots. Though during all of this, the room has gotten noticeably hotter. The temperature seems to spike every time Dew’s fingers slip from the fretboard. Mountain is used to being drenched in sweat during a good rehearsal though so he works through it. 

It all comes crashing down though. The Cardinal wanders too close to Mountain’s mock platform. A sharp squeal pierces his ears, feedback from the microphone and his hearing aids. It makes his heart pound in his chest. The sound of splintering wood replaces the snare and cymbals as he grips his sticks so hard they snap in two. 

Not this again. Please not this again. 

All he can see is the look of horror on Aether’s face as he pounds on Dew’s chest. All he can hear is the screeching heart monitor. All he can feel is fear of not knowing if this is it. If this is the end. 

It cannot be the end. It just cannot. He has to come back. He has to so Mountain can apologize to him. So he can love him again. He has to stay with them. He cannot survive without him. Dew cannot be dead. 

Dew is dead. 

Dew is dead. 

Dew is dead. 

Dew is—

“Mountain!” 

He jumps, head snapping up at the call of his name. All eyes are on him as he slowly looks around the room, getting his bearings. His eyes catch Dewdrop’s. Even his scowl is gone, replaced with concern. Mountain quickly averts his gaze. 

“Mountain? Cerbiatto, are you well?” It is the Cardinal’s voice that pulls him more and more into the present. 

“What?” 

“Are you well?” 

Not at all. He can still see the infirmary room when he closes his eyes. But the others do not need to know that. 

He shakes his head, “Yeah. I’m fine.” 

“Are you ehh sure?” The Cardinal glances down at the broken sticks he is still clutching. 

Mountain follows his gaze, blinking down at where the top half of them sits on the floor. He did not even realize. He quickly sets the bottom ends on his snare, being careful to shield his shaking hands as best he can. 

“Yes I’m sure. I guess I just got too into it.” 

“Yeah. You must have. Considering you didn’t respond to the Cardinal when he called for you.” Cirrus narrows her eyes and tilts her head. 

“I did.” 

“After the third time maybe.” 

He looks away from her too, opting to just stare at his broken sticks instead of anyone else. The silence hangs heavy in the air. So quiet he is painfully aware of his own deep breaths and beating heart. 

Finally it is broken by the Cardinal clearing his throat, “Well ehh I think we should call it there for today.” 

“Really I’m fine—“ 

“It is okay cerbiatto. You all worked very hard today and I am very proud of you. Go enjoy the rest of your evening.” He gives him a lopsided smile. 

They stare at each other for just a moment longer before Copia turns and saunters down the mock platform to the podium. Everyone else is hesitant, but as he begins to pack up his papers they start to move. Mountain stays glued to his seat though, staring at the splinters in his hand. 

“Should probably get Aeth to take em out.” Multi shuffles over to Mountain. He does not get close though, giving him any space he may need. 

Mountain swallows thickly, “Yeah. Probably.” 

His body feels like it moves on autopilot as he slowly stands and makes his way down to Aether. He is only vaguely aware of Multi following after him. Everything feels so fuzzy.

Aether crosses the rest of the distance between them, quickly meeting him, “Mount what happened up there?” 

“Broke my sticks.” He holds his splintered hand out to him. He takes it with a huffed laugh. 

“Well yes I saw that part. But why?” 

Mountain does not say anything. He does not need to. He knows the moment Aether touched his skin his quintessence told him everything Mountain is feeling right now. 

Aether just sighs and begins to examine where the splinter is, “We’re talking about this later.” 

Mountain opens his mouth but is caught off by a spark of quint coursing through his body. Something gentle and sweet yet wholly overwhelming. 

“Don’t you dare say you’re fine. I know you better than that mister Mountain ghoul.” Aether is able to pull it out with the tips of his claws as his quint soothes the pain. He kisses the spot where it was. 

“Okay?” He mumbles against his palm. 

Mountain hesitates before responding, “Okay.” 

Aether smiles, “Okay. You and me then. After dinner.” 

“After?” 

“I have to go back to the infirmary. It’s swamped right now. Siblings and their allergies.” He gives him an apologetic look, but he still smiles. He then stands up straighter and points past Mountain. 

“You. Make sure he doesn’t break anything else until I get back.” 

“As you wish.” Multi now steps closer to them. 

Mountain looks down at him before turning back towards Aether, “I’ll make your favorite tonight.” 

“Well then, now I have something to look forward to,” he kisses Mountain’s hand again, “I’ll see you soon sprout.” 

With that, Aether takes one last look at him and then over to where Dew and Rain are before heading out of the door. Before he even has time to dwell on the fact that he definitely ruined rehearsal, Multi’s hand slips into his with a squeeze. When Mountain looks at him, he just smiles. 

“Come on Mounty. We gotta shower before dinner, we stink.” 

He does not  say anything as he lets Multi lead him out of the practice room and into the hallway. He does not say anything the entire walk back to the den. He does not say anything when they enter through the ornate wooden doors to see Ifrit and Zephyr lounging together on the couch. He does not say anything as Multi pulls him to his room. 

All day he has told himself tomorrow will be different. He will fix everything tomorrow. But how can he do that now? After causing a scene at rehearsal? The way they all looked at him with pity and concern. Even Dewdrop despite being the one suffering the most right now. How could he do that? How could he let his pack catch even a glimpse of an unkempt garden when he is supposed to be taking care of it? He is supposed to be their foundation. He cannot crumble. He is not allowed to. Because if he does then what stops the others from falling into nothing? 

“Did you hear me?” Multi tilts his head. 

“Hm?” 

“I asked if you want me to stay. With you. Help you wash up.”

“No.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes.” 

Multi looks like he wants to say more. Argue, push back and convince Mountain to let him stay. But he does not. He just nods and pulls him into a quick hug. Mountain’s limbs feel too heavy to reciprocate. 

“Just holler if you change your mind.” Multi pulls back, stares at him for a moment longer, and then slips out of Mountain’s door. 

Without anyone around to see, Mountain finally crumbles. He sinks to the floor next to his bed, forehead pressed to the cool wood. He digs his claws into his hair as the events of the day play over and over again. He wants to scream. His throat burns from the effort to hold back his cries. 

What would be the point? What would it solve? It would be nothing but a waste of the little  energy he has. Crying will not make Dew’s body stop aching. Crying will not repair their fractured relationship. Crying will not fill the chasm that exists at the core of his being. 

He has spent enough nights over the last six months with tears streaking down his cheeks to know it will do nothing. So when he feels the first drop slip out of the corner of his eye, he takes a deep, shaky breath and pushes himself up. He kneels there for just a moment longer, eyes closed as he wills himself to get a grip. 

He has to shower so he can go make dinner. He promised to make Aether’s favorite and that is exactly what he will do. With another sigh, he finally stands again. He shucks his shirt off as he walks to his bathroom, throwing it in the direction of his hamper. He can hear his plants rustling as he goes past them, desperately reaching for him. He ignores them in favor of undoing his pants and kicking them off. 

He does not even turn the light on when he enters his bathroom. He just sticks his hand behind the plastic curtain and turns the shower handle towards hot. While it warms up, he pulls his hair from the bun he put it in this morning. He does not bother with brushing it despite the way his claws catch in tangles. He just needs to be quick. He would not even be doing this if not for Multi walking him to his room. He would be able to tell Mountain did not actually shower. He does not need another awkward conversation. Not when he knows Aether will not let him out of the one he promised. 

He sticks his hand under the spray from the shower head. He deems it warm enough, stepping into the shower. He hangs his head under the water, letting his hair curtain his face in wet clumps as he watches the stream swirl down the drain. The heat does feel good on his muscles, sore from the harvest and rehearsal. But cannot stay. If he lingers for too long then the others may come knocking, especially after the scene he caused. 

So, he sits up straight and gets to work scrubbing himself clean. He lathers his eucalyptus shampoo into his hair, messaging it into his scalp. He does not give it time to set, immediately rinsing it out when he is satisfied with the amount of bubbles on his hands. He places the bottle back on its shelf before grabbing the one with his body wash. He forgoes the rag he normally uses, squirting some of soap into the palm of his hand. He rubs his fingers through his fur over the planes of his body, the scent of pine filling the air. It rinses as he works since he did not bother moving out of the warmth of the water. 

Quick and easy. A simple wash is all he needs to keep Multi, or anyone else, off his back. He flips the handle to turn the shower off and steps out. He grabs his last clean towel off the rack and pats himself dry. He steps back out into his bedroom, picking up his pajamas he discarded this morning and pulling them back on. His fur is still slightly damp, but he does not let it bother him. It will fully dry soon enough. The shower did help. Just a little. It at least gave him something else to focus on for a bit. 

Dinner will give him another distraction. As he steps out into the hallway, he mentally runs through the recipe for Aether’s favorite. A creamy mushroom soup. Repeating the list over and over drives the shadows in his mind away, only tinting the edges rather than consuming him whole. He rounds the corner into the common room to see the rest of the pack back. Some are still in their day clothes while others have already changed into their pajamas. 

Dew is one of them, dressed in baggy black sweatpants and an oversized purple hoodie. He sits on the couch, leaning heavily against Ifrit. He looks ready to pass out. Mountain has half a mind to suggest taking him back to his bed so he can sleep, but he holds his tongue. He has no room to give him advice after the things he said to him before that ritual. So he just goes into the kitchen instead. 

“Mount come lick this.” Multi does not look up from where he is cutting mushrooms. 

He stops dead in his tracks and just stares. Multi has his locs pulled back into a bun and the recipe binder out in front of him. Various ingredients are dotted throughout the kitchen, a bottle of olive oil, butter, discarded parts of an onion. A pot sits on the stove, steam rising off of it. 

“You. Started dinner,” Mountain says almost in disbelief. Like he cannot fathom the idea that someone else is cooking. 

“Course I did, now come lick this.” Multi’s tail flicks in the direction of the stove. 

Mountain still feels stunned as he walks over to the pot. He does not even know what to feel. Anger? No, that is not fair to Multi. Disappointment? Annoyance? He just does not know. The last task of the day he has to distract himself got taken. He knows Multi probably means it as a way to show he cares, take something from Mountain’s shoulders, but he is unaware of how desperately Mountain needs this. But what is he supposed to do? Kick him out of the kitchen and tell him to never do this again? What would be the point of that? 

So, he simply does what Multi asks. He picks up a nearby spoon, stirring the broth in the pot before bringing it up to his lips. He blows to cool it down as he tentatively puts it into his mouth. It is definitely missing most of its flavor, though he has only just gotten started. 

Mountain licks his lips as he sets the spoon down, “It. Could use just a little bit more pepper.” 

Multi finishes slicing the mushroom, scraping off the cutting board into the bowl with the rest. He grabs the pepper grinder and gives the top a twist over the broth. Flecks of black sit at the top before he takes the same spoon Mountain had and mixes it in. 

“Okay now try.” He scoops up some of the broth and hands the spoon over to Mountain. 

He lets the liquid wash over his tongue. It is warm as it goes down. “Better.” 

“I’ll take it.” Multi grins and grabs the bowl of mushrooms. He begins to scoop them out, tossing them into the broth by the handful. 

“Would you like me to help?” Mountain’s eyes stay glued to his hands. Watching as he works. 

“Sure! You can start by taking a seat.” 

“Excuse me?” 

When about half of the mushrooms are in the broth, Multi sets the bowl down and turns to look at Mountain, “You need to take a damn break. I’m worried for you Mounty.”

“I’m okay. Promise.” 

There is a flick of hesitation in his eyes before he speaks again, “Come on. This morning when you almost got sick? Snapping your sticks at rehearsal? I may be stupid but I’m not an idiot.” 

Mountain does not know what to say. What can he say? Keep insisting that he is fine? Multi clearly is not buying that anymore. But he is not exactly keen on the idea of spilling his guts in the middle of the kitchen. Especially when the whole pack is only a few feet away in the common room. It is bad enough Aether is going to make him sit with him, he does not need to throw it at Multi too. 

He opens and closes his mouth. The longer he goes without saying anything, the more Multi’s expression softens until eventually Mountain relents. He would rather not cause another scene. He takes a hesitant step forward. Then another and another until he plops himself down on one of the barstools. 

Multi smiles at him, “Just sit and enjoy the show.” 

But what other choice does he have? With dinner gone, he searches for something else to trim the unruly garden. Ears twitching as he listens to the pack’s chatter. Eyes focused on every movement Multi makes as he stirs the rest of the ingredients into the soup. Grasping onto every little thing he can to keep himself present. Reminding himself that tomorrow will be different, the mantra that has kept him going the entire day. He just has to hold on a little longer. 

He does not even realize he is picking at the skin around his claws until movement next to him makes him startle. He turns his head to see Zephyr now sitting next to him on the other barstool, cane leaning against the counter. They take one of his hands and lace their fingers together. 

“I heard you caused quite the ruckus at rehearsal today clover.” They rub their thumb over his knuckles. 

Mountain sighs, “Really nothing happened. I snapped a few sticks, it’s not like I’ve never done that before.” 

They hum, “And that’s it? It was only some stick snapping?” 

Of all the ghouls his little incident has to get back to it just has to be Zephyr. They’re too smart, too perceptive. If it were not for the feathers and that symbol on their chest, Mountain would be convinced they have quintessence in their veins with how well they can read a room. 

“Yes. That’s all it was. We were having a good run and I got too into it. Is that a problem?” He snaps out the last part, though when he hears himself he immediately regrets it. But he cannot help it. He is tired of everyone trying to break the dirt to search for something that is not there. He is fine. Everything is fine. He has just had a tough couple of weeks but it will work itself out. He does not need this prodding. 

Zephyr eyes Mountain for just a moment before replying, “No. No problem at all.” 

“Great,” Mountain says flatly. 

They do not say anything more, but they do keep their hands laced with Mountain’s. It just makes him feel worse for snapping. Luckily though, Multi calls from the kitchen. 

“It’s almost ready!” 

He drops Zephyr’s hand as he prepares to stand, “I’ll set the table then.” 

But before he can even put one hoof on the ground, a burst of heat passes him by. Dewdrop enters the kitchen, jaw set in either pain or determination. Mountain is not sure which. Dew glances over at him, a blinding blaze meets a dark forest as their eyes catch. 

“I’ve got it.” His voice is rusty in the way that is when he first wakes up. 

“Dew…” he breathes. 

He leans heavily against the counter as he stares at Mountain, waiting to see what he wants to say. 

What does he want to say? A lot. He wants to tell him to rest. He wants to usher him back to where he was with Ifrit. He wants to ask if he is feeling better. He just wants to talk to him. Hear his voice. Feel his warmth. Bask in his light. But doubt creeps into his mind as the guilt settles like a stone in his gut. 

He keeps his mouth shut. 

When the silence stretches for too long Dew just pushes himself up and goes to the cabinet where the bowls are. His body screams at him to stand up and actually do something like he is supposed to do, but he does not even twitch. He sits paralyzed as he wrestles to free himself from the vines of that unkempt garden. As wrap around him and hold him still. 

Dew should not have to do this. He should be doing this. He needs to get a hold of himself and what he is supposed to do. 

“Why thank you little sprite.” Multis nods as he stirs the soup. 

Dew says nothing in response as he opens the cabinet door. His arms visibly shake as he reaches up for the first stack of bowls. He purses his lips as he gets a hold of them. He quickly pulls them out and sets them onto the countertop with a heavy thud, as if their weight is too much for him. He flexes his jaw as he reaches up again for the second stack, still trembling. As he lifts them, the faint sound of porcelain clinking together can be heard over the chatter of the pack. He pulls them out of the cabinet to put them down next to the first stack. But he does not make it that far. 

A shatter echoes through the kitchen as the bowls hit the ground. Shards of white go flying, cascading over the floor like cracked ice. 

All of the noise in the den stops. 

Everyone turns their attention to Dewdrop. 

Everything is still, frozen in place for only a moment. Then there is a flurry of movement as the pack jumps to see what happened. 

Multi turns the stove to a simmer before trying to step over to Dew, careful of the broken pieces of porcelain that now litters the floor. 

Cumulus peers over the back of the couch calling from the common room, asking if he is alright. 

Rain pushes off the loveseat to make his way into the kitchen. 

A loud beeping starts to blare as smoke curls from Dew’s nostrils and mouth with each heavy breath he takes. Cirrus quickly opens a window as Zephyr tries to funnel the smoke out. 

Dew balls his fists at his sides as the breeze flows through the room. He hisses and slams the cabinet door shut with a heavy thunk. Before anyone can reach him, he storms out of the kitchen. His steps are dotted with red, a trail of blood left in his wake from ignoring the shards. 

Heat rolls off him in waves as he stampedes away from Multi. Past Cumulus and Rain. Past Mountain. Past all of them so he can get to his bedroom. 

Like ice left out in the summer sun, the heat finally makes Mountain move. He jumps off his stool at the same time Dew slams his door shut. He immediately moves to follow him. 

“Rain.” Mountain does not even look back to see if he follows. He knows he will. And he cannot bear to take his eyes off where Dew disappeared down the hall. 

The white porcelain now stained red as it lay cracked and shattered in the floor acts as shears to the strangling vines. Dew is hurt. Really hurt. There may be a million things they need to say to each other, but if Dew is hurt then there is not a single thing in this world or the next that will stop Mountain from going to him. He would claw his way out of a landslide just to get to Dew when he needs someone. 

Now that Rain and Mountain are outside of his door, the smell of smoke is suffocating. The fire alarm still blares from the kitchen as they glance at each other. Something heavy crashes to the ground from inside. Mountain does not hesitate to throw the door open. 

It is dark inside yet they can see perfectly thanks to the orange glow emanating from the farthest corner of the room. The only thing they can hear now are Dew’s hiccuping sobs and pained snarls. Rain dashes past Mountain, heading straight for that orange light. 

Dew has squeezed himself in the space between his bed and the wall. He is curled in on himself, knees to his chest with his face hidden. Rain immediately drops down onto his knees to scoot closer to him. 

Dew’s head lifts slightly, just enough to see his eyes. They burn brightly, shining like embers being stoked to life. His brow is set in a hard scowl, but the look in them screams nothing but fear. Like a fox cornered in its den. 

Rain moves even closer with his hands outstretched, “Dewdrop. You’re bleeding. You have to let us see.” 

He only hisses sharply in return, growling as he presses himself closer to the wall. His tail whips across the floor in front of his feet, curling from his calf. His pupils are narrowed to slits. His ears pin back as Rain continues to inch forward. 

Mountain narrows his eyes at him. He has seen him like this once before. When he hurt so badly he could not get out of bed. He had missed rehearsal and tried to still practice on his own, but he could not even hold his guitar. That moment ended with a destroyed bedroom and scorched carpet. 

“Rain. Back away from him.” Mountain’s tail twitches behind him. Something is not right. He needs to get Rain away from Dew. At the very least he needs to put himself between them. 

“He needs help,” Rain snaps. 

“I’m aware. But just look at him. We can’t touch him like this.” He has to be glowing for a reason and if the heat of the room is any indication, then Rain really needs to move. 

But Rain just ignores him. He crawls forward on his knees again, only a few feet away from Dew now. He hisses again, baring his fangs as if he were a cat. 

“It’s okay Dew. We just want to help.” Rain reaches forward toward his bloody feet. 

A dull thud echoes through the room as Dew lunges at Rain, knocking him to the ground. His claws are extended as he rears back to swipe at his face. Rain flinches and brings his arms up to shield himself but before Dew can do much as twitch, Mountain rushes forward. He grabs Dew around the middle and yanks him off of Rain. 

He hisses as Dew struggles in his grasp, causing their skin to touch. He is burning. 

“Go get Multi! Now!” Mountains yells at Rain. Aether is not here. They need his quintessence. 

Rain sits up, shaking his head and blinking hard. He looks at where Mountain is restraining Dew for a second before jumping up and darting out of the room. 

Dew continues to wiggle in his hold, desperately trying to get away from him. He hisses and spits, whipping his tail against Mountain as he digs his claws into the meat of his forearms. Mountain grunts pressing him closer to his body despite the way Dew burns. He cannot let go. Not until he is himself again. If he lets go now, he will only hurt himself more. He could even hurt the others. 

Mountain has to stop him. He has to keep everyone safe. 

The heat makes it hard though. It is oppressive, like standing too close to an open flame. Sweat collects at his hairline. His shirt clings to his body. 

“Dewdrop,” he hisses when his claws finally break the skin on his arm, “stop. It’s only me. I’m trying to help.” 

Whatever states Dew is in, it does not seem like he can hear Mountain. He growls low in his throat before slamming his head back against Mountain’s nose. He cries out, instinctively dropping his hold to clutch at his face. Dew practically pushes off of him, knocking Mountain’s head against the wall. His ears begin to ring as stars dance across his vision. 

He blinks hard to clear the fuzzy edges. Everything feels like it is moving in slow motion as he watches Dew bolt for the door. His mind screams at him to move. To stop him. With a grunt, he grits his teeth and forces himself up. He has to protect everyone. 

He is unstable on his feet, nearly falling right back over once he is up. But he does not have to go far. The space is small and Mountain lives up to his name. He takes only two steps forward before his hand shoots out and grabs at Dew’s wrist to pull him back. 

He spins on his heel immediately, lips curling up in a snarl but all Mountain can hear is the sharp ringing. Sweat makes his fur feel heavy. His head pounds in time with his heart. His limbs do not move with the speed he needs. He is not able to react fast enough. 

Dew’s claws slash across Mountain’s face, hot blood splattering onto the floor. Mountain roars as he stumbles back, hand coming up to clutch as the oozing wound. Blood pools into his mouth from a slice on his lip as his vision is clouded with red.

 His back collides with the wall as he tries to get his bearings. He feels like he cannot breathe. What is left of his visions blurs and swims as the shape of Dewdrop breaks for the door again. He weakly tries to follow, but his knees buckle. 

So much blood. 

Too much blood. 

Hot. 

Too hot. 

He cannot think. He cannot move. He has to move. He has to. Someone has to get to Dew. He tries to crawl forward in the direction he thinks he went but he does not make it far. He screams at his body to keep going, but his muscles do not even twitch. 

He collapses fully, leaning his weight against the nearest solid object as black tinges the edges of the world. The only thing he registers before he closes his unscathed eye is an overwhelming scent of ozone, amber, and spice. 

He only opens his eye again when the sound of ringing fades away, replaced by the call of his name. He slowly looks up to see Multi crouching in front of him with his arms extended.

“Mountain? Can you hear me now?” 

He nods, but immediately regrets it as his skull pounds, “Did you…?” 

Multi returns the nod, “Got his mind back.”

“Where. Is he?” 

As if on queue, Mountain can hear the sound of retching echo from the open bathroom door. 

“Is he. Alright?” Mountain’s breath comes in heavy pants. 

“Is he alright? Mount I think there are other things to worry about right now.” 

It is only then that Mountain realizes Multi has his hands pressed against the wound on his face. He can still feel the warmth of blood as it trickles down his chin to drip stains into his shirt. 

“What the fuck happened?” Multi practically begs. 

“He. He didn’t mean it. Wasn’t himself. It’s the pain and the fire. He’s not used to it yet. He just needs someone to help him.” Mountain makes a half hearted attempt to push against Multi. To try and stand. 

“Help him?!  You can’t be fucking serious right now?” He does not budge. 

“Just let me—“ 

“Mountain stop.” 

“He needs someone to help him.” 

“So do you!” 

Mountain tries to find the strength to form a rebuttal, but he cannot. The adrenaline is fading. He is starting to become aware of the pain from the slash across his face. It stings as sweat drips from his hairline to mingle with the blood. Mountain slumps back again, horns clacking against the wood of Dew’s bed frame. 

He feels like the weight of the world has been placed on top of him, body buried under layers of rock and dirt. He closes his eye again as he feels Multi move on his own hands to his face. He uses the last of strength to hold it there, keeping pressure to the wound as Multi hooks his hands under Mountain’s armpits. He lets himself be hoisted to his feet, swaying like a tree in a windstorm. 

Multi steadys him, grunting with the effort of holding up most of Mountain’s weight. He takes a tentative step forward, trying to lead Mountain towards the door. He does not have it in him to fight it. Oh he wants to. He wants to pull away and go to the bathroom to make sure Dew did not get injured in the spat. But it takes all of his focus just to put one hoof in front of the other. He would fall flat on his face if he tried. 

“Come on. We’re gonna get you out of here and we’re gonna get you fixed and cleaned up and you’re gonna be okay.” 

Mountain barely resisters the words, head still pounding. A quiet ringing coming from his hearing aids. He keeps his head down as they pass the threshold and enter the hallway where the rest of the pack is gathered around. 

They try to talk to him, call his name. Ask what happened as Multi heads towards his room. But he ignores all of them. How could he face them? Answer them? He is their foundation, or at least he was supposed to be. How can he call himself that now? When he is being carried away as a bloody mess. The last of the light leaves his garden. All that remains is weeds and thorns. Everything he was is eroded away, crumbling into dust. 

How can he be their protector, their provider? 

How could he have failed so badly? 

[nastylittleghouls]

Swiss: *looking at Mountain adoringly*....I love you Mountain, filling honey into jars, not really paying attention to Swiss: Huh? Swiss: *pouting* I said, I'm selling you to the Zoo

[forlorn-crows]

you wanted promts... PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE NASTY BUT CUTE SWISSALPS NASTY BUT CUTE SWISSALPS THEYRE FILTHY LITTLE DUDES BUT THEYRE SO IN LOVEEEEEE

there's some cuteness in here, i swear it. mountain is a goober after all. but it's mainly nasty. @rrriver also requested rimming with dealer's choice of ghouls, so here we are (did you think it'd be swissalps, river? probably one out of two you thought it be lmao)

nasty ghouls under the cut. rimming and oral and fingering and fucking (oh my). top mountain came out to play today.

Swiss keens, tosses his head back. Mountain’s tongue is so good, so wet, so hypnotizing, he can’t form anymore coherent thoughts. Anything close to a thought fizzled out as soon as the earth ghoul pinned him down to the bed with only a hand on his sternum and a few honeyed words. 

“Mount—unholy shit, baby,” he groans when the muscle dips inside. Gripping his cock in a tight fist when it leaks a bead of pre onto his stomach. Mountain hums—loud and rumbly on purpose—and digs his fingers into the multi ghoul’s spread thighs, pushing his knees closer to his chest. Really spreading him out nice and wide so he can lick deep.

“H-how do you get so far in there,” Swiss damn near whines. He starts to jerk in earnest, wet strokes that make his thighs jump and his toes twitch. 

Mountain chuckles. He sucks on his rim lightly before pulling away, displaying his lengthened, unglamoured tongue as he licks his lips. He cradles a fang with the split end, making it flutter teasingly when Swiss cranes his head up to look. 

And promptly lets it thud back down with a strained noise as his hand polishes the sticky tip of his cock.

“All the better to taste you with, darling,” Mountain lilts. Relishing in the desperation wafting off his partner. 

“Fuck,” the multi-ghoul says intelligently. “That’s hot, baby, that’s fuckin’ hot.”

Mountain hums and returns to his task. Alternating between spreading him with his tongue and kissing around his hole. Even daring to smooth his thin fingers along the apex of his thighs, running through coarse curls until the digits press and tickle his balls. 

It’s enough to drive Swiss crazy. He bites his lip until it threatens to bleed and pulls at himself without a care for pacing. Precum wrung from the slit with every involuntary clench, every stroke slicker than the last. 

“Oh fuck, Mount, you’re gonna—hmpf gonna make me cum, feels so good,” Swiss babbles. Mountain can feel him twitch under his tongue, cheeks clenching as he nears the point of no return. A spike of urgency and need runs up his spine, and he pulls away with a string of saliva still connecting his tongue to Swiss’ hole. 

“Don’t,” he says gruffly. “Don’t cum. Not yet.” He presses against the space his tongue created, slipping a finger inside just up to the first knuckle. Swiss gasps, hand stilling. “Want you on my cock,” Mountain breathes. 

“Oh,” Swiss chokes out. Risks another squeeze to his cock before nodding and pulling away. Mountain slips that finger all the way inside, folding his lanky body over him to kiss him softly, deeply. Gripping the fat over his hips as pumps the digit in and out. 

“There, Mount, yeah,” he groans. He loops his arms around Mountain’s neck, tangling his fingers in his mousy brown curls. Wraps a leg around him too, losing himself in the prep. Whining at the taste of himself on his tongue. 

“You feel how hard you make me?” the earth ghoul purrs, nudging their cocks together as he slips a second finger in. “Can’t wait to get you on it. Bounce you til you’re shaking.”

Swiss moans, long and wanton. Mountain huffs a laugh against his lips when he clenches around the stretch, the deepest parts of him caressing his fingers with a firm seal. 

“Gimme another, I can take it,” he begs, rocking into his hand. 

“Eager,” Mountain teases. “But I like you like this, edelweiss.” He rubs their noses together. “Begging.” Kisses the corner of his mouth. “Desperate.” Another kiss at the hinge of his jaw. “Wet.” He whispers that right into his ear, rolling their hips together and crooking his fingers into the spot that makes him melt. 

“Satanas, help me,” he wheezes. His tail betrays him, thumping against the bed in an eager rhythm. 

The earth ghoul sucks the lobe of his ear into his mouth, humming when Swiss arches and groans loudly. “Shh, just open up for me. Let me treat you right.”

“Anything, fuck, whatever you want, baby, shit.”

Mountain smiles against his skin. Pushing on the back of one thigh so Swiss exposes himself further. “Good. Just like that.” Swiss’s cock twitches against his when he splays his fingers. Wringing from him another broken groan. “That’s it.”

Mountain may be quick to get all four fingers inside, but he certainly lets the stretch settle in, spreading and thrusting and working him open until he’s panting and almost loose against his hand. 

“C’mere,” he says softly once Swiss starts begging again. Slipping his fingers out and guiding him to straddle his lap. Mountain folds his legs up underneath him, creating a cradle for his body once he sinks all the way down. “Right there, there we are, darling.”

Mountain holds Swiss with one hand on his lower back, placing kisses along his sternum as he lines up the wide head of his cock with the other hand. Teasing it against his slack entrance as the multi ghoul clings to his shoulders. 

“Please,” Swiss whispers. His cock throbs between them, neglected all this time yet hardly flagged at all. 

“I’ve got you,” Mountain assures him. He rubs the tip against his hole, pushing until the head pops in. And he keeps going, easing Swiss down with two hands on his ass, steadily lowering until he reaches the base. Bottoming out with a strained huff and shaky legs. 

“Fuck—”

“—yes.” Mountain pulls him flush, chest to chest. Tucking his face into the crook of Swiss’ neck and breathing in patchouli and whiskey tinged with need. He just holds him there, warm and balls-deep. Overwhelmed with both arousal and love. 

Above him, Swiss whines. He shifts a little in his lap, grunting when his cock rubs against Mountain’s stomach. 

The earth ghoul holds him tighter. “Okay, edelweiss?” 

“So fuckin’ big,” he groans. Mountain barks a laugh, skating his nails up and down Swiss’ back. He pulls back and gives him a peck on the lips, looking at him fondly and admiring the dark blush on his cheeks and the sweat on his hairline. He smiles and tucks his face back into his neck. 

That is, not before dragging his lips up the prominent tendons in his neck, stopping once more at the shell of his ear and muttering into it, so low it sends a shiver right up Swiss’ spine:

“You can take it.”

[cumulo-ghoulll]

guys. the first one is so swissalps coded and the second one is definitely dewaether. you know full well the smaller ghouls like to climb up the bigger ones to annoy them and/or flirt with them >:]

[haunted-girlyy]

Inspired by inertia-succumbed

~ about lava on the floor and other dynamics of relationships ~

Dewdrop is stretched out on the couch in the living room and watches Mountain and Aether sitting on the carpet playing a game of chess. Meanwhile, his slender fingers are tirelessly stroking Rain's dark, thick hair. The water ghoul is lying between Dew's legs, with his arms wrapped around his hips and his head resting on Dew's flat stomach.

Read further under the line or on ao3

Swiss, on the other hand, is standing next to the two chess players and staring down at them with a broad grin. "Looks like you're losing again, Aeth!", he purrs as Mountain beats Aether's bishop. Aether ignores him and stares at the checkered board with a concentrated expression. "You can also just give up.", Mountain suggests with a grin and reaches for Swiss's ankle to stroke it lovingly.

"The floor is lava!", Aether suddenly yells.

Mountain immediately jumps up, lifts Swiss up bridal style and places him on the coffee table before climbing up himself and pulling the multighoul into a hug.

Dewdrop feels Rain's body tense above him and reacts quickly. He pulls his legs up and presses them against Rain's hips at the same time the water ghoul sits up. Dewdrop hesitates for a moment. He could also just wrap his arms around Rain and pull him back to him to kiss him. But when Rain rolls to the side and wedges his body between Dew and the couch, only to press his feet into Dewdrop's side, Dew knows he has hesitated too long with his thought. A quiet gasp escapes him, which mixes with a giggle. The fire ghoul wraps both arms around Rain's legs and tries to roll over his partner. The two ghouls giggle and laugh like little children as they try to kick each other off the couch.

Dewdrop glances at Rain. The water ghoul's usually pale-blue cheeks are flushed and wet from the tears of laughter that seem to flow incessantly. A fang digs into his full lower lip in his eagerness to finally push Dewdrop off the couch. Dewdrop can't help but lick his forked tongue across Rain's face - over his lips. He tastes the salt of Rain's tears in his mouth. "Hey!", Rain protests and wipes his face, giggling. Dew takes advantage of the moment of distraction and pushes Rain off the couch. The dark-haired water ghoul lands on the wooden floor with a dull thud.

"You pushed me into the lava," Rain gasps, holding his stomach. His dark hair is disheveled. "You tried the same thing with me!", Dew replies, grinning broadly. "But you're a fire ghoul,", Rain says with a giggle and looks up at his mate. "It's a matter of principle, Rainy.", the fireghoul teases, whereupon Rain grabs him by the wrist and pulls him to the floor.

"And that's where you see the difference in the dynamic of your relationships.," Aether remarks dryly as he calmly checkmates Mountain's king, stands up, sits down on the vacated couch and grins as contentedly as a cat that has just eaten a bird.

Rain casts a glance over at Mountain and Swiss, who are snuggled up on the table. Swiss has his arm wrapped around Mountain and is whispering about how heroically his brave Mountain saved him from the lava. The sight gives Rain a little pang. He knows that this is all just a game, a little prank from Aether so that he can win the game of chess in peace... But Rain can't help but be disappointed. He suddenly no longer wants Dewdrop to playfully wrestle with him, no, instead he wants to be saved from the imaginary lava floor.

Dew notices his thoughtful expression and maneuvers himself so that he ends up sitting on Rain's middle. He bends down to him and presses his warm lips to the tender skin under Rain's ear. "You realize that I would never actually push you into anything? At least i would not push you into lava... Into your sweet butt is a different matter."

Rain smiles. He knows that Dewdrop is trying to be romantic. The fire ghoul kisses Rain briefly on the lips and then pulls back a little to look into his ocean blue eyes. "You know how much I love you, don't you?"

Rain's smile widens. "I think it would be good if you told me again, just to be sure...," he whispers back and his eyes lighting up with satisfaction as the fire ghoul bends down to him again.

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

Hunter's Moon (Medieval AU pt. 2)

Epilogue

With everyone settled at the Abbey, Rain and Dew think about taking the final step in their relationship. Swiss and Mountain spend some quality time together outside of its walls and return with something – or someone – rather unexpected.

This is it! Thank you so, SO much for following along!! 🖤🖤🖤

I think that's going to be it for these characters for a while, unless inspiration strikes me. I have more ideas for a new fic that has been on hold since before I started writing this (as the “short 15k” fic it was meant to be), but in the meantime I've slowly posting my character designs from this AU, linked via my AU masterpage.

Rating: T Content: young orphaned ghouls Words: 6952

I'll leave y'all alone for a while now this is done lol, @ashthewaterghoul @bloodfin @cosmicseafoam @everybodyshusband @jazz-bazz @karmicbias @kentuckyfriedsatan @midnight-moth @nefariousghoul @papaslittlesunshine @zombiequeen777 @0-miles-away @ghostedrain

Links to full fic: Tumblr | AO3

Read below, or on AO3!

By the time late autumn rolled around and the final auburn leaves on the trees that matched the colour of Mountain's hair began to fall, so too did Swiss and Mountain fall further for each other. As sure as the turning of the seasons, the pair were undoubtedly soulmates.

Life had changed far less than any of them could have expected: they had been so close for so long now that this new step in their relationship was not as monumental a shift as they had thought it might be. Their days were still spent by each other's sides when it was possible, or in each other's thoughts when it was not. Even the other ghouls had a hard time remembering the time before they were a pair.

The winter was one of hibernation for all the ghouls, sheltering behind the thick walls of the Abbey. The warm temperatures inside matched the warmth of their new family as they huddled together in the Den of an evening, watching the snow fall and paint the ground in a pristine, gleaming blanket of white.

As he had in the long winter nights at their farm, Dew had taken his responsibility as pack heater very seriously. In the same way Rain had helped him connect to his hidden water element, he had grown more attuned to fire after spending time with the Abbey's fire ghouls, and his magic was stronger than it had ever been now that he had found a community within them. Some of the older ghouls who remembered him from his previous time at the Abbey were still a little off with him, but none were outright rude, and Dew was finally self-assured enough to know that he could not force everyone to like him.

He especially liked Ifrit. Despite their very different personalities, with Ifrit being so outgoing that Dew thought he could walk up to a wild bear and try to befriend it – or scarier still, to Mountain – they were becoming fast friends. As another fire ghoul who had run away from his clan while still very young, they had a lot in common. Dew's mischievous side, one that had evolved and mellowed out of his already quick temper, complemented his new friend's perfectly, much to the chagrin of the ghouls who crossed their paths.

One such ghoul was Mountain. As soon as Dew had found out how scared of him Ifrit was, he had made it his mission to remind the gentle giant of a ghoul about it at every opportunity. It had finally reached the point where Mountain was also becoming afraid of bumping into the young fire ghoul. He thought he should probably apologise, but had no idea how to start or really what he would even be apologising for, and so Swiss had stepped in. The multi ghoul had talked Mountain down, explaining that Ifrit was absolutely fine, despite their first encounter,evident by how Dew always had some story or another about which ghoul or sibling Ifrit had coaxed into bed that week. Eventually, the tensions quieted when Ifrit came to realise that Mountain did not want to gut him on sight, and the whole incident was reduced to a small in-joke between Mountain, Swiss and Dew.

Rain was delighted by each and every new development of Dew's friendships, overjoyed that his beloved ghoul was finally coming out of his shell more. His newfound pod of water ghouls were equally smitten with Dew's continued efforts to learn about and fulfil all the mating traditions their kind were used to. Mist in particular had caught him slacking off his duties in the library on many occasions, having discovered something else he could do to further woo Rain written in an old text and fallen down a rabbit hole of research.

Dew's efforts were certainly paying off: while Rain himself was already deeply smitten with Dew, the rituals he was completing were building the sacred mating bond between them. As millennia of ghouls before him had, Dew was demonstrating his commitment to Rain and any future offspring they may bear in the water ghouls’ own manner.

As sociable a species as they were, their mating traditions were the most private of any ghoul and, like the fluid nature of their element, their bonds were not sealed in a single ceremony. Rather they were an ongoing stream of promises through small actions; forming a bond as a river forms a valley. Whereas quintessence ghouls sealed their bonds in His eyes through the spilling of their mixed blood during a full moon, and earth ghouls funnelled their shared energy into a plant that would grow as strong as their love, both in ceremonies in front of their clans, water ghoul bonds were most precious when they were formed with no witnesses but Him himself.

One day, Rain and Dew's bond would be complete. They hadn't discussed when exactly that would be; they both knew it was something they couldn't put a date on, something they would just feel when the time was right. They had, however, decided that when that day came, they would conclude with one last ritual; this time for Dew. Fire ghouls had a ceremony of their own, a tradition almost diametrically opposed to those of the water ghouls. Instead of building something, creating nests and future resources, fire ghouls would braid small locks of their cut hair together to symbolise their union, before sending it up in flames; their love burning brightly together for their pack to see.

Dew would have plenty of practice by then Rain thought, having received countless intricately braided blankets and other gifts made of woven kelp from the lake that the other water ghouls had helped him harvest. He had thrown himself so deeply into learning about water ghoul culture, Rain felt almost guilty how little he still understood about fire ghouls. Dew seemed unbothered though, and there would always be time for Rain to learn more later. They had forever, after all.

Swiss and Mountain were yet to have a conversation about any sort of mating ceremony, although there was an implicit understanding that it would happen in the Spring. Swiss, as a multi ghoul, had no specific ritual he believed in following; his clan had none of their own that he remembered outside of the human wedding ceremonies they partook in for appearance's sake. Earth ghoul rituals however most commonly took place in the spring. In spite of Mountain’s clan’s more brutal traditions, they had also always celebrated in the traditional way, by planting something meaningful to the couple and funnelling their combined energy and love into it. As most plants did best when planted in the springtime, most mating ceremonies had taken place in the same season.

Of more pressing concern to the pair though was the planning of their upcoming expedition. Once the worst of the winter had passed, they wanted to head out to explore the frozen wilderness to experience it in all its sparkling, icy glory. What neither said aloud, but both had thought, was that they would then still be home in the springtime.

Home. It was a new experience for Swiss, knowing he could travel and still have a place to return to. Finally, he could appreciate the land they lived in, and experience existing in nature rather than merely surviving in it. For the first time since he was young, he felt the grounding presence of home; a guide rope back to the surface when he explored too deep. It had taken him a while to realise that home wasn't necessarily a place, but rather a feeling. Losing his city and his family all at once had made the two feel so connected, and his wandering in the many years that followed had lacked either one. In finding his new pack, he had simultaneously found his new home in the village and so he had still never had to think of them separately.

The Abbey was his home now, to be sure, but that hardly mattered. The difference in scenery here compared to their little farm was stark, and yet the feeling was the same. His home wasn't a place; it was his pack. Leaving the village had felt nothing like leaving his city: he had his pack with him still, and wherever they were was home.

Going travelling with Mountain, instead of feeling like he was leaving his home behind, actually felt exciting. After all, he would be taking a part of his home with him; the part that lived deep inside his heart. He couldn't leave anything behind, not when he carried all of his packmates’ love so close to him. The thought brought a peace and security to Swiss that he hadn't felt so deeply and truly since he was young.

They left after the last frost, when the weather was starting to warm up again but before the snow had fully melted. The pack had waved the pair off one crisp morning, even Copia joining them at the main doors to wish them well and watch as they strode off between dew-kissed trees. The chill was invigorating as they hoisted their packs further up onto their shoulders and bade a fond farewell to their home, at least for a while.

It wouldn't be a long trip, not this time, they had agreed. The world was wide and there was so much to explore, but for now they would stick to their plan of heading to the mountains. Copia had helped them acquire supplies from the nearby village; sturdy boots, fur coats, proper sleeping mats and food rations. They had tried to insist that they make their own way, but he had assured them that it was nothing: really just fair payment for their work so far around the Abbey.

If things were tougher than expected, they could turn back. There was no urgency to their exploration, no pressure to hurry along the paths ahead, and the freedom of it was intoxicating. Certainly, the camping part of their expedition was perhaps a sore subject after the rather difficult time they had had travelling to the Abbey, but there had been other factors which made that journey harder than necessary. This trip was all about enjoying nature, just the two of them. Mountain could – and indeed Swiss hoped he would – show off his knowledge and love for the world he had grown up alongside, and Swiss would finally be able to see more of it, building the connection with their environment that most other ghouls had. Most importantly, he had the best ghoul in the world to show it to him.

Trekking along the valley that separated the Abbey from the mountains ahead had been so peaceful, full of a tranquillity that Swiss hadn't known he could feel. They were completely alone under the ice blue sky with a contented silence falling between them for large swathes of the day, and yet it was never quiet. The twittering of birds rang out overhead, the myriad conversations of a species he would never understand and yet could somehow grasp the meaning of completely. Beside them, the river tumbled by in a constant jumble of excitement and frenzy. They hadn't been away long, yet everything was already so much more enjoyable than their hurried trip north months previously.

Ascending the mountain had an altogether more solemn atmosphere, the chaos of the river far behind, and the crunching of their feet the loudest sound. The air grew colder as they climbed, and the terrain shifted from compacted earth and leafy flora to jagged rocks and equally angular evergreens. Despite the quiet, it was still clear that the mountain was full of life. From animal tracks and spindly nests high up in the rocks, to iron footholds hammered into sheer cliffs and rickety rope bridges neither of them was brave – or perhaps foolish - enough to cross.

At one point, Swiss had been convinced he had spotted a yeti, a vast off-white figure far away in the distance reaching up with a tremendous bellow that echoed as far as him and Mountain. The tracks left in the snow when they eventually dared to continue on told a different story; a large bear, its fur covered in snow, seemed a much more reasonable explanation.

The joy of exploration was infectious, capturing both of their imaginations. They trekked over glaciers, frozen rivers of ice trapped in the stony grip of the peaks around them and emerged from valleys into blinding sunlight. As they approached, the animals who called the frozen landscape home scattered, hiding away in their dens to stay warm in their own fur coats rather than the man-made ones Swiss and Mountain wore.

They had continued hiking up until they reached the summit, looking out over the world enveloped in a blanket of clouds. It was nothing like Swiss had ever seen before, everything else they knew seeming so distant down below. Stood on the snowy peak, it truly felt like he and Mountain were staring out at everything ever made while simultaneously being the last two lives on earth.

Descending the mountain had almost been harder than ascending, watching every footfall with deep concentration. It was that concentration that had allowed them to sense the nearby presence of life, Swiss's small quintessence sense niggling in the back of his mind for several miles already. Mountain had also spotted tracks that seemed more humanoid than beast, although he had put them out of his mind as an impossibility. They were almost down to the valley now, and then it would be just one more day of travel to reach the closest town where they could rest fully and recoup supplies.

It was as they were carefully picking their way down a rocky scree that they spotted them; tucked behind a boulder, almost entirely hidden under the spindly shrub growing around it, were two pairs of dark purple eyes staring fearfully out at them. Swiss stopped abruptly, almost causing Mountain to crash into him and send him flying down the slope, before smiling cautiously at the cowering figures. They were ghouls, that he could tell instantly, quintessence ghouls judging by their eyes and the faint static buzz that lingered in the air around them.

“Hi there,” he cooed softly, as though he was approaching a wounded animal, “are you alright?”

The figures didn't move, staring unblinkingly up at the two towering ghouls casting a shadow over their hiding spot. Swiss realised how they must look and crouched down, motioning for Mountain to do the same. The earth ghoul fished some food out of his pack as he did, passing it to Swiss who gently placed it in front of him, before shuffling backwards to give the ghouls space.

One of them, a male, scuttled forward, his eyes never leaving the two strangers as he reached out a long, skinny arm to grab the bread and fruit. He retreated as quickly as he had emerged, but he didn't tuck himself quite as tightly behind the rock this time. Spindly fingers split the chunk of bread down the centre, giving the larger section to the ghoul behind him, before doing the same with the dry ribbons of apple leather.

“My name's Swiss,” the multi ghoul smiled again, keeping his tone gentle, “what's yours?”

The flicker in the ghouls' eyes told him they understood him, even if they seemed reluctant to speak themselves. Mountain introduced himself too, trying to aid Swiss with the amicable, non-threatening atmosphere he was building.

“'M Mountain.” Swiss heard him shuffle, knees likely burning from crouching after walking for so many weeks, before seemingly losing his balance and landing on the dirt path with a grunt. As he winced, rubbing his backside that smarted from the fall, the pair of ghouls glanced at each other, giggling softly.

Swiss followed suit, flopping down into a seated position himself. The quintessence ghouls seemed instantly more relaxed now nether of the large strangers were in any position to pounce, or even move, in a hurry. The second one crept out from behind the rock to get a better look at them, whispering in the other's ear. She was a ghoulette, they realised.

“What are you doing out here? Are you with someone?” Swiss continued, hoping they spoke the same language while wanting to check there would not be an angry clan of quintessence ghouls descending upon them for accosting their young any time soon. The pair of youngsters whispered to each other again before meeting his gaze, clearly putting on their bravest faces.

“Ph-phantom,” the ghoul stuttered out as the ghoulette grabbed his hand to reassure him, “my sister–”

“I'm Aurora,” she almost whispered, “and we're all alone.” She fixed Swiss with a beady gaze, clearly growing with confidence as he and Mountain continued to stay flat on the ground.

“You're going to help us?” she spoke with a stronger voice now, as though her own thoughts were solidifying in front of her. Swiss supposed she was quintessence, and some of them had a way of knowing things that rivalled even the air ghouls, back at the Abbey.

“You have food,” the first ghoul said again, watching Mountain cautiously, “where from?”

Digging more out of his pack Mountain attempted a smile of his own, careful to keep his lips in front of his teeth to not appear more threatening than he knew he likely already did.

“We brought it with us,” he replied quietly, gesturing into the valley below, “we came from down there, we wanted to see the mountains.”

The ghouls looked at him, then at the distant valley, then back at him.

“Our family lived on the mountain,” Aurora, the ghoulette, said sadly, “but they're all gone now.” She turned her head into her brother’s chest, and he wrapped protective, albeit skeletal, arms around her comfortingly.

Swiss and Mountain exchanged glances – any threat that could wipe out a whole clan of quintessence ghouls would be a threat to them to.

“A ghoul,” the male nodded gravely, “he hurt our Mama.”

“Do you know where he went?” Mountain asked gently but with enough urgency that both ghouls paused in their chewing to look up at him. Exchanging a glance, they both pointed up and over the mountain, away from the direction they were headed. Maybe Swiss’ earlier conviction about seeing a yeti wasn’t totally unfounded, but was instead something rather more threatening. Mountain sighed in relief however; they had seemingly missed him and he was unlikely to cause any future problems for them as they headed south and away from the mountainous territory.

“We’re very happy you’re safe,” Swiss was still talking to them like they were a pair of wounded animals, but they seemed to be responding well to it, “they hurt your Mama, but could we help you find the rest of your family?”

They shook their heads in sync.

“Papa told us to run,” Aurora, evidently the more talkative one, raised her head again to speak, “but we felt his energy go dark. Everyone’s did.”

“We left them.” Phantom whimpered, his lower lip wobbling but keeping a brave face up and refusing to let tears fall. It was the ghoulette’s turn to comfort him, whispering words the two older ghouls could not hear.

Swiss felt his heart breaking for the young pair. He knew intimately the exact struggle they had been though, and at a similar age. Having each other would help them, but nothing could truly ease the pain they felt. Time would help them, but freedom from guilt was something he had spent many years battling, something he had learned may never be possible to live without. He lived despite it though, and he prayed with every fibre of his being that these ghouls would learn to too. There and then, Swiss made them a silent promise: he would never let them beat themselves up the way he had done. He would walk over hot coals before he let harm come to them.

Jolting back into the present, Swiss felt Mountain’s gaze on him.

“You’re staring, Love.” He whispered under his breath, concerned for the multi ghoul.

“Sorry.” He muttered, hoping he hadn’t frightened the siblings. Mountain distracted them by offering his waterskin, while Swiss regained his composure. Rather than fear though, the pair seemed more curious in Swiss than ever, as if they recognised something lurking behind his eyes.

“Y’know,” he started, shifting his weight to make himself more comfortable on the hard ground, “something very similar happened to my family too. I was about your age, and I thought I had a great life. I didn’t have any brothers of sisters like you two, but I had lots of cousins. Friends too, who lived nearby.”

He left out the parts about his friends being human ��� that ghoulish abnormality could wait until they fully trusted him.

“One day, our home was attacked just like yours. My parents wanted me to run, so did my whole family, but I wanted to warm my friends to get away too!”

He felt four bright violet points laser-focussed on him, but unexpectedly two green ones too. Thinking about it, he supposed Mountain had never heard the full story before; only the sanitised version he had sung about in the tavern on occasion.

“My parents begged me to run with them, but I was young and stubborn. I tried to help my friends, but they didn’t want to leave our home. When I tried to run after my family I found my parents had stayed to wait for me, but they–”

The two young ghouls looked solemnly back at Swiss, understanding they shouldn’t have had at their young age clear in their eyes. Swiss heard shuffling behind him, until he felt Mountain’s arms snake around his waist and his chin hook over his shoulder, comforting him. Understanding the truth behind the city’s fall was one thing, but Mountain had not known anything of the guilt Swiss still harboured over it.

“They died protecting me, so I know how you feel,” Swiss summarised, not having expected to bring up the well-buried memories of their cold, still faces when he awoke that morning, “but it’s not your fault, alright?”

Phantom and Aurora nodded fervently, a newfound understanding and kinship on their faces behind the pain that was so apparent there.

“So please, trust me when we ask that you come with us now. We can help you, I promise.”

“There’ll be more food?” Phantom asked hopefully, already eyeing up Mountain’s bag again.

“All the food you can eat.” Mountain chuckled. Despite everything, he supposed they were still normal young ghouls at heart.

They looked to Swiss as though awaiting confirmation. He smiled and nodded, amused at how quickly they had decided he was trustworthy with just some food scraps and a few understanding words. It was good they had found them first; quintessence ghouls were powerful, and he didn’t want to think what could have happened had they been captured by any other ghoul seeking to abuse that power for their own ends.

“There’s other ghouls where we’re going too,” Swiss continued, “good ghouls – they’re like our family.”

The pair exchanged another look, before Aurora spoke up in a very small voice.

“How far is it to your family?”

“It’s still quite a long way,” Swiss winced apologetically, thinking of how weary they already were, “maybe one more day down the mountain to where we can get more food, then another week beyond there?”

“Less if we hire a horse and cart,” Mountain murmured in his ear, “they wouldn’t have to walk, and we could all get back sooner.”

He had a point – they had discovered on their outbound journey that several of the towns between here and the Abbey had operated on a trading network; fresh fruits and vegetables from around the Abbey making their way to the colder climate of the foothills, and stables loaning mounts between the settlements.

“Less than a week,” Swiss corrected himself, looking at the forlorn faces in front of him, “just one more day by foot, then we could travel the rest of the way in just a few days with a wagon and horse.”

“We’re going to help you,” Mountain spoke up with surprising conviction, “you’re not alone anymore.”

With some effort on everyone’s part, the two young ghouls eventually scrambled to their feet and the small party could continue a halting descent down the last of the mountain. Their shoes, while they looked to have been suitable for the terrain some time ago, were worn and thin, and Swiss began to wonder if they wouldn’t be better off simply carrying the two scraps of ghouls. They remained glued to each other’s side though, and he could see no benefit that could come from tearing them apart.

Besides, with each step, the pair seemed to grow in confidence; their tired and sluggish steps becoming nimble and light. This was after all the terrain they were familiar with, made evident as they hopped effortlessly over the rough surfaces like mountain goats. They weren’t speaking much, both clearly still on-edge, even though as quintessence ghouls they could most probably feel that there was no animosity or danger from the large ghouls they were travelling with.

Their progress slowed as the ground flattened out, the paths made soft with the beginnings of the snowmelt from higher lands. Swiss and Mountain urged them on to where they knew they could make camp with promises of hot food, but both knew the rest of the way to the town tomorrow would be a struggle. So much for an relaxed trip thought Mountain, flashbacks of their original flight to the Abbey with a sick Rain at the forefront of his mind.

Something else about the two quintessence ghouls would become difficult in the morning too: their less-than-human appearances. Both seemed to be having trouble with their glamours; their horns and tails hidden safely away but their other unnatural features still clearly on display. Any human who so much as glanced at them currently would be left with the very distinct impression that they were not of this world.

The ghoul had black, shaggy hair with an almost-luminous white streak that kept falling in his eyes, and matching silver blotches scattered across his dark grey skin. The ghoulette was an opposite in complexion, so pale she could have blended in with the mountain snow, if not for her equally dark hair that flickered in a rainbow of colours like oil on water. They had near-identical facial features, down to the glowing shade of violet of their eyes, making Swiss wonder if they weren’t just brother and sister but rather twins. Any siblings were rare enough by ghoulish standards, but twins were almost unheard of.

Aside from their most clearly inhuman features, both ghouls were also concerningly skinny and malnourished, enough to attract unwanted attention even if they did get their glamours together overnight. Swiss and Mountain would have to split up tomorrow, an added complication, with only one of them going near the town while the others waited outside and out of view of the humans.

Finally, the group made it to where Mountain wanted to make camp. The sun had almost entirely set as he went about pulling foliage into a makeshift cover and Swiss built and lit a fire. Phantom and Aurora huddled around it as the flames caught, so close that a protective instinct in Swiss wanted to beg them to sit back a little.

Neither Swiss nor Mountain slept much that night, both too distracted by the quiet huffing breaths of the sleeping quintessence ghouls.

“They're so young, they didn’t deserve any of this.” Swiss whispered forlornly into the air in front of him as Mount held him close to his chest, neither taking their eyes off the small sleeping forms curled together for security and warmth.

“They’re practically still kits, Mount. They can't be much older than when I was when I ended up alone!” He sniffed loudly, holding back tears in Mountain’s reassuring arms.

“Hey, shh…” The earth ghoul rocked him comfortingly. “They’re safe now, they’re here with us.”

Swiss sniffed again, wetly, as Mountain rocked him soothingly.

“And you turned out wonderful, you know? If they have the chance to put their lives back together now, think what they'll be like when they’re all grown up.”

His next sniff was a more resolute one; a promise to so good by the young ghouls.

The next day, everything went smoother than they could have expected. After a slightly rocky start with the two young ghouls waking up and forgetting their unfamiliar surroundings and company for a moment, they set out on their way, slowly. Swiss had waited with them well outside the town limits, as they still seemed most comfortable with him, and he worked hard to keep them distracted with the last of their food while Mountain headed into the town.

He returned a few hours later, pack refilled and a rented horse and cart in tow. Before they left the Abbey, Copia had insisted they take a pouch of emergency money lest they get into trouble, and they couldn’t be more grateful to him for it. They had sworn not to touch it, but knew the old man well enough to know that protecting a pair of young orphaned ghouls would more than count as an emergency in his eyes.

The rest of their journey was swift and uneventful, so much so that Swiss began to wonder if someone was looking out specially for them. Days were still long, and their charges were still skittish at every strange noise and smell, but they made good progress and met surprisingly few other travellers along the road. The young siblings had scarves now, bought for warmth as well as camouflage, draped over their heads which they could hide further behind if they came across any humans. In fact, the only hindrance they had encountered so far was an early spring rain shower, making everyone just a little bit colder and more weary than they already were.

Mountain and Swiss stayed single-minded in their mission to return to the Abbey as quickly as possible, to get the quintessence ghouls somewhere warm and safe where they could begin to heal from their ordeal. Neither would sleep properly or allow themselves to relax until their duty was done.

The air ghoulettes saw them returning, although they had no idea who the figures travelling with their packmates could be. As she had been on the first day of their arrival at the Abbey, Cumulus was waiting by the gate. This time though, Cirrus and their whole pack were also waiting beside her. The arrival of a horse and cart had raised some eyebrows; Mountain and Swiss were not the type of ghouls to shy away from a few days trekking. Had one of them perhaps been injured?

Mountain passed the reigns of their borrowed horse to a waiting Cowbell, who steadied the mare while the wagon's occupants disembarked. The earth ghoul stepped down first, before a murmur of surprise echoed through the assembled ghouls as he turned to help two small ghouls down after him. Swiss brought up the rear.

The pair of larger ghouls, derailing the expected joy and exuberance at their return for now as they stood not facing their pack, protectively ushered their young charges forward to meet the assembled ghouls.

“This is Phantom and Aurora,” Mountain spoke with an authority that suited him well, as unfamiliar to him as it felt, “and they need our help.”

“We can explain more later,” added Swiss in a softer tone, clearly aimed to comfort not only the pair quivering beside him but also his own pack, “but for now, they need hot food and to rest.”

As could have been expected, Cumulus stepped forward immediately, a gentle and welcoming smile replacing the look of confusion on her face.

“Well you're in the right place for that, little ones!” With a glance at Swiss and a nod of confirmation from him, the quintessence ghouls shyly approached her. Cirrus joined her, looking more uncertain than her mate yet also smiling softly at Phantom and Aurora.

“Come on, let's go and get you fed.”

The pair hesitated, observing the assembled crowd of the rest of the pack. They seemed more curious than frightened though, especially of Aether who was hanging back at the rear of the group. Swiss had been worried – although he hadn't said a word – on the final steps of their journey about how they would react to him. Even though he knew Aether was a gentle giant, Swiss had been quietly fearful that his generally large stature and the universal assumption that quintessence ghouls were bullish and violent when others encroached on their territory would frighten the young ghouls. Maybe they sensed his pacifism, or maybe they were simply too naive to know better, as their attention soon switched to observing the rest of the assembled pack.

“Go with them, they'll take good care of you.”

All heads turned to look at Dew, as he suddenly spoke up in a surprisingly sweet tone. Rain squeezed his hand. The promise of a warm meal seemed to finally win out over their intrigue at the collection of new faces, and the two quintessence ghouls trotted after Cumulus and Cirrus.

As soon as they disappeared behind the Abbey walls, Swiss let out a tremendous sigh of relief and slumped against Mountain. They had got the pair here in one piece and they were now safe, at last. The mood was more sombre than anyone could have expected for what sould have been a joyous reunion, but it was very clear why.

“They'll be fine,” Mountain rubbed Swiss’ lower back comfortingly, “they've got no choice with those two looking after them.”

Swiss smiled weakly.

“Well that was all very unexpected.” Sunshine said lightly, shattering the strange silence that had befallen the group. That seemed to do the trick, as Swiss finally felt able to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

Finally, the pack had the reunion they had been expecting. Amid the hugs and loud questions from all the ghouls, and Aether admitting he had used the same calming quintessence trick he used on his more anxious patients in the infirmary on Phantom and Aurora, they heard a commotion as Copia came jogging across the crunchy gravel, robes askew.

“My ghouls! I just heard that you had returned!” He coughed and composed himself, red-faced and out of breath as he was, slightly embarrassed at his undignified appearance. “I am delighted. I trust you had an enjoyable time – and what was this I heard about some young newcomers?”

“Sorry we couldn't send news ahead, Papa,” Swiss was quick to apologise, “and it's a long story!”

The man smiled indulgently.

“Let us retire inside then! You must tell me all about your trip. All of us are desperate to know every detail!”

Swiss and Mountain shared a look.

“If it's alright Papa, I'd like to check on the new ghouls first. Just to check they're settling in.”

“Ah my, of course,” Copia patted Swiss gently on the shoulder, “forgive an over-excited old man. It has been so long since I had adventures of my own you see! I'll be in my study, when you have time.”

Phantom and Aurora were doing just fine, it turned out. The ghoulettes had settled them in front of their Den fire, as they had for Dewdrop all those years before, and they were happily ripping into a whole roasted chicken Cumulus had smuggled out of the kitchen. They looked up at Swiss from the floor with matching grins, shiny with food grease, and his heart had melted. He could see why ghouls would go to war over their kits.

Over the weeks that followed, the young ghouls had filled out some, losing the hungry glint in their eyes. Swiss had quickly found that in helping them, it had also helped him work through his lingering feelings about his past. The pair looked up to him, which he hadn’t been expecting. Whether they had just latched onto the first person they met, or if they really did feel a kinship with him from their similar backgrounds, it didn’t matter. They were clearly looking for a role model and so he would be one.

Their personalities had also started to shine through, shyness now almost entirely evaporated. Aurora was the more independent one, that was abundantly clear. She was smart and witty, and Swiss thought she could probably run the whole Abbey if left to her own devices. Phantom had been quieter to start with, clearly the more sensitive of the two, but he borrowed a confidence from his sister in a way that was endearing to watch.

Swiss had noticed him mimicking some of his own actions too, and it gave him a strange feeling in his stomach – pride, possibly? He was planning to teach Phantom to play the guitar soon – the ghoul had shown a great deal of interest already, his tongue sticking out between his teeth as Swiss showed him how to play a chord or two. Aurora seemed less interested in the guitar. If anything, she was more into dancing; twirling around with the other young ghoulettes of the Abbey and singing along while her brother sat watching the band's performances, utterly enraptured.

As sweet as their early idolatry of him had been, Swiss had been worried about them getting to know other ghouls their own age. Mountain had reassured him countless times that they would be fine without him interfering and he had been right, of course. They had quickly settled into a wing of the Abbey mostly occupied by other quintessence ghouls. Led by Delphinia from the infirmary, they were continuing the pair’s education starting with their clearly-lacking glamours. Swiss found himself feeling like an older pack member to them; he was not used to ever being seen as responsible, but it felt good.

The rest of the pack couldn’t help but feel a fondness for Phantom and Aurora either. Their interest in Aether hadn’t wavered when he stopped using his own quintessence to calm them – if anything it only served to make them more curious, and he was happy to indulge their attempts to practice their newly-learned skills on him.

Dew however was utterly fascinated by them. He had never seen twins before in his life, only ever hearing exaggerated horror stories featuring them, told under the cover of night. From the first moment he met Phantom and Aurora, with their perfectly synchronised head-turns and a continued unsettling silence, he had been captivated. Dew had quickly learned that the pair were definitely not scary at all; especially Phantom, when his eyes would unknowingly blink out of sync with each other. It remined him of a frog.

For ghouls that looked only a little younger than the age Rain had been when he first joined the clan, they both seemed pretty clueless. To think; he had first thought Rain to be the most sheltered ghoul in existence! Naive would have been a better description for the young siblings, but Dewdrop had never claimed to be anything but clueless himself.

As they settled, Dew remained absolutely enchanted by them. He chose to ignore the niggling thought in his brain that perhaps he was feeling the exact same thing Cirrus and Cumulus had felt when he first arrived, bedraggled and pathetic, on their doorstep.

~~~~~~~

As the final vestiges of winter faded and spring fully embraced the earth with her arms, so full of life, Swiss and Mountain only grew closer, knowing what their next step would be.

On a sunny morning with the sky filled with birdsong, Swiss, Mountain and their pack gathered under the freshly green canopy of trees in their garden. Together, the pair pushed handfuls of earth around the myrtle sapling beside the bench that had been the site of so many key moments in their story together. Laying their hands side by side on the soil, they poured all the love they had for each other, and for the earth that had brought them together and held them close, into its roots. The tiny flicker of green-gold from Swiss’ fingertips was a new sight for Mountain and he gasped in astonishment.

“I’ve been practicing,” Swiss whispered with a conspiratorial smile, “specially for this. For you”.

The beaming smile Mountain gave him could have rivalled the brightness of the sun.

On that warm spring day, with the whole pack celebrating the formal union of two of their number, there was only room for love. The love that had been simmering between Swiss and Mountain for longer than either could remember, the love that had blossomed so suddenly between Dewdrop and Rain, but most of all the love that the whole pack shared.

Not one of them had room in their thoughts today to dwell on the events that had brought them to the Abbey, or the reasons they had ended up in the village in the first place. None of them could ever forget those past hardships, but they could choose to move on from them; to set them aside for this brief moment and embrace the parts of life that hadn’t been dealt to them but that they had chosen instead. Today, they had all decided to focus on love.

[riconas]

Rico. I saw your tags on that post.

Please, would you be so kind as to tell me how a swissalps breeding session would go down? I'm so very eager to hear your thoughts. :)

give it up for swiss (he bit off more than he could chew, again)

“Put it in,” Swiss breathes. “Inside, c’mon.”

Mountain grabs a fistful of his ass and squeezes hungrily. Swiss has got a nice ass, truth be told. He’s got a nice everything. But Mountain doesn’t tell him this, because Swiss doesn’t deserve it, and Swiss’s ego does not require any further inflation.

“Put what in?” Mountain asks patiently, and Swiss groans in frustration.

“Your cock. Put your cock inside me.” He rocks back against Mountain’s hand. “Hurry. I’ve been waiting so long.”

As if Mountain hasn’t, stuck behind his drum kit, watching Swiss present himself like a whore. He’d seen that back arch, that ass pushed up into the air, and had to shift in his seat for the next fifteen minutes, trying to find a position that didn’t make his cock feel like a boulder in his pants.

Mountain gives his ass another warning squeeze. “You’ve been waiting so long? How do you think I feel?” He smacks Swiss right on the hole, watching it twitch all pink and wrinkly. “Face down ass up, huh? That's how you want it?”

“Obviously,” Swiss says, somehow managing to sound prim, even with his chest pressed to the mattress. “Fuck me open, Daddy. Breed me.”

“You’ve already done that, clearly,” Mountain says, as he slides a finger in to find Swiss already stretched and slick. He works another in just as easily, twisting his wrist so his knuckles catch nicely on Swiss’s rim.

“Oh, it wasn’t just me,” Swiss replies. “Rain helped.”

Mountain imagines Swiss bent over the couch in their dressing room, pants shoved down to his ankles, Rain’s cock buried in his ass. Thinks of the noises he’d make, the stifled gasp at the first push in, the punched-out little groans when Rain gets him solid in his sweet spot. All it does is get him even more hot and bothered.

A small part of Mountain wants to keep this going, to drench his fingers in lube and spit and what may very well be Rain’s slick, to shove them down to the knuckle and curl them into his prostate until he’s dribbling all over the sheets. He could get his whole hand in, probably. He could go at it for hours. It’s the least Swiss deserves.

But fuck, he’s so hard.

“Guess you won’t need prep, then,” he says, and nudges the leaking head of his cock up against Swiss’s hole, teasing at the ring of muscle, pressing against it just to watch Swiss tense up. He taps Swiss’s hands, twisted into the nice sheets. “Spread those cheeks. Let me see.”

Swiss obediently complies, pulling his asscheeks apart to expose himself. A trickle of cum slides down to his balls, tracking slick in its wake. Mountain wants to smear it around with his finger. He’s sure Swiss wouldn’t mind.

“Put it in,” Swiss says again, but he doesn’t sound so authoritative anymore. “Please. I want your cock. Just put it in.”

Swiss is tight. Tighter than he ought to be, Mountain thinks, as he sinks in so considerately slowly, sliding a big hand into Swiss’s curls so he can pull his head up, enjoying the loose give of his back, so much more flexible than he lets on. Mountain wants to see it arched pretty, wants to stroke along the curve of strong muscle and velvet skin. He’ll push as far as it goes, stretch that gorgeous body to its furthest limit, until Swiss is gasping and stiff, and—

“Are you in?” Swiss asks, his voice tight and strained. ���Is it in all the way?”

“Halfway,” Mountain says, rubbing his flank reassuringly. “Where’s the tough guy? Thought you wanted me to breed you.”

“I do,” Swiss grits out, and then he makes a kind of choked-off sound when Mountain slides in another couple inches, his arms giving out underneath him. “It’s so big.”

“It?” Mountain asks. “What’s it?”

“Your cock,” Swiss moans, and then his voice wheedles off into a reedy keen as Mountain presses in all the way, full balls pressing snugly against the back of Swiss’s thighs. He’s so warm inside, so soft. Mountain slaps his lovely ass, just to watch it jiggle, and Swiss clenches around him like a vice.

“What were you thinking about?” Mountain asks, as he begins to thrust, in and out, nice and steady. “During the ritual.”

With some difficulty, Swiss hoists himself to his elbows, turning his head just enough to gaze at Mountain. Mountain catches a glimpse of the wet patch on the sheets, where Swiss must’ve been drooling.

“I thought about Rain,” he says, soft and breathless, and Mountain stiffens. “Using me like a fleshlight, rough as hell—you know how he is. Really having at it, you know? Right up in my guts. Fucking his cum so deep I’d feel it for days—oh, fuck—”

Mountain, having grabbed him by the throat, yanks his head back like a stubborn tree branch in need of shearing. “Try again.”

“Ah!” Swiss gasps. “Sorry, sorry. Thought about you. Thought about your cock, in front of all of those people—they’d love to have watched, Mount. It’s so big, they could’ve seen it from the last row—”

Swiss needs to shut up, Mountain decides. He should never have given him an opening to be chatty. He clamps a hand over Swiss’s terrible mouth, jabbing his cock as deep as it will go, and when he leans over to gaze at Swiss’s face, Swiss’s eyes have rolled back in his head.

“You think Papa knows what you get up to on that little stage of yours?” He speaks the words right into Swiss's ear, all the better to be heard. He can feel his knot swelling as he pounds into Swiss—the resistance is making it harder and harder to squeeze past the threshold of his body. “You don't think he'd be disappointed, seeing his favourite ghoul spread out onstage like a whore?”

It’s a rhetorical question. Mountain doesn’t actually want Swiss to give him an answer—it’s more fun to wonder, and more entertaining to watch Swiss struggle to speak with Mountain’s hand over his mouth.

“Blasphemy,” Mountain says, taking advantage of the silence. “That’s what it would be, and you know how the Clergy feels about blasphemy.”

Swiss gnaws at his fingers, and Mountain snatches his hand away with an irritated growl. Good things never seem to last.

“Give it to me,” Swiss whimpers, pushing back against Mountain, squishing his balls with every pass. “I’m your bitch, baby. Breed me like it.”

Mountain huffs out a laugh. “You sure whine like one.”

He isn’t usually so crass. He prefers to save the dirty talk for special occasions, like Christmas, or Easter—the holier the better. Swiss is very good at bringing out the worst in him.

“Fuckin’ fill me up,” Swiss moans. “I can feel it. Do it, shove it in me, make me your slut—”

Mountain grabs his hips and holds him tight. With a wet pop, his knot slides in, the fit hot and tight and fucking perfect. He shudders at how blindingly good it feels, how startlingly divine. It pulses in time to his heartbeat, shooting so wonderfully deep, painting Swiss’s insides, soaking his dick. Thighs shaking, dick throbbing, mind blanking. The whole trifecta.

Swiss wails into the sheets, his own cock spitting ropes of cum, wagging all over the place, his position a complete mockery of the one he’d taken onstage. He flattens himself against the mattress in an attempt to escape, but stuck together as they are, Mountain has no choice to follow, and nearly squashes him.

“Stop moving,” Mountain grunts, grabbing Swiss’s flicking tail and pinning it aside. His head spins with the pressure around his knot, still expanding, locking him in. Really locking him in.

“Oh, no, no,” Swiss cries out, trying in vain to scramble away, to push Mountain’s cock out of his ass. Alas, he cannot. “It’s too big—out, get it out, I can’t—”

“Too late,” Mountain says softly, petting over his curls, uselessly placating. “I’ve got to breed you properly, darling. Can't have it all spilling out, can we?" He kisses the top of Swiss's head. "You just sit tight. I’ll make it catch.”

[miasmaghoul]

*ahem* edelweisss, edelweisss . . .

Swiss leans in the doorway to the common room, arms crossed over his chest, tail idly swishing behind him. He's been here for a few minutes now, left his book dog-eared on his bed with the intent of grabbing a snack. He'd found the kitchen occupied, though, and the smile he wears is exclusively thanks to the sight before him.

The kitchen is a mess; the small island is occupied by an ancient stand mixer and a few dirty bowls, while the counter lies covered in open containers, half-empty ingredient bags and not-small pile of used measuring spoons. The scent of sugar, citrus and something floral hangs heavy in the air, and Swiss can feel the heat of the oven from across the room.

At the center of the mess, though, lies what holds Swiss' attention.

Mountain's humming, swaying in front of the stove along with the album playing on the common room turntable. Something jazzy Swiss recognizes but can't name off the top of his head. Whatever it is, Mountain is clearly lost in it while he rather vigorously stirs something Swiss can't see. What he can see is the smattering of floury handprints covering Mountain's jeans, and the streak of something pale yellow that's somehow ended up in his hair. Swiss can only imagine how much worse Mountain's front must be, but there's one more detail that keeps him from wondering too hard.

The few delicate white flowers that have made their home at the base of Mountian's antlers have Swiss' eyes crinkling. He'd know those pale petals anywhere.

Swiss pushes off the doorframe and drags his feet just loud enough to announce himself. Sneaking up on Mountain in the kitchen doesn't usually end well. He sees the other ghoul's ear flick, sees him pause in stirring, and Swiss feels safe to speak.

"Thinkin' about me, grasshopper?"

Mountain peers at his over his shoulder, raises an eyebrow. Swiss gestures at his head as he strolls into he room, and Mountain rolls his eyes as though he can see his own antlers. He makes a chuffing sound and resumes his mixing, but Swiss doesn't miss his little smirk.

"Might be," he replies with a half shrug. "It's happened once or twice, against my better judgement."

Swiss laughs as he hops up onto one of the bar stools at the island, one leg tucked up under himself. He rests his elbow on one of the few clean spots by the mixer - the remnants of whatever Mountain has in his hair sits in the bowl closest to him, so Swiss picks it up and gives it a sniff.

"What's on the menu today, peaches?" Swiss swipes a fingers through a blob on the side of the bowl. Gives it a cursory sniff.

"A lemon and lavender cake," Mountain supplies, just in time for Swiss to pop his finger into his mouth and find out for himself.

The batter is delicious, sweet and tart and wonderfully smooth. Delightful on all counts. Swiss isn't surprised; Mountain is as good a cook as he is a messy one, and judging by the splotch of egg yolk Swiss can see on the ceiling this has been particularly inspired session.

"Fancy," he says, gathering another bit of batter. "If you need someone to taste when it's baked, my mouth ain't busy."

Mountain snorts, and together they say,

"For now."

Swiss playfully tosses a dirty tea towel at his back, and Mountain catches it without even looking. Tucks one corner into his pocket while his tail meanders towards the fridge.

"Already baked," he says, nodding towards the appliance while his tail tugs it open. The middle shelf holds three identical rounds of cake, the loveliest shade of yellow speckled with what must be flecks of lavender. "You'll have to wait for the finished product, I already trimmed them down. For quality control. You know how it is."

Swiss nods sagely. He slides from his stool and wanders over to the stove, humming when Mountain's tail sways up to greet him, the tufted end caressing his jaw. Swiss leans against the counter, and now he can see what Mountain is working on.

"What's, uh," he waves at the odd arrangement on the stove - a pan beneath what appears to be the stand mixer's bowl, which must contain whatever Mountain is tirelessly stirring. "What's this all for, then?"

"Frosting," Mountain tells him, lifting what turns out to be a whisk. "Eventually."

Something thick and gooey drips from the whisk and immediately gives Swiss several indecent thoughts.

"Don't say it looks like cum," Mountain says before Swiss can so much as open his mouth.

"Wasn't gonna," Swiss lies, tongue poking out between his fangs. Mountain gives him a look. "I wasn't!" Swiss insists, pushing away from the counter. He slips behind Mountain instead, wraps his arms around the taller ghoul's waist. Swiss kisses the back of his shoulder. "But I was gonna ask if that was why you were thinkin' about me."

Mountain barks out a laugh.

"Gross," he complains, but his tail wraps around Swiss' calf all the same. "But you're actually half right." Swiss makes a questioning sound, and Mountain points a thumb behind them. "Look at the recipe."

Swiss will, eventually. He indulges in holding Mountain first, just for a moment. Presses his nose to his sweat-damp shirt and breathes in the the homey scent of warm earth and something herbal. It blends beautifully with the lemon and sugar surrounding them, makes him feel a little fuzzy around the edges. He gives Mountain a squeeze, and stands on his toes to kiss the back of his neck before he lets go; another soft, white blossom pops up behind Mountain's ear.

Mountain picks up humming again while Swiss hunts for the recipe he mentioned. He piles dishes as he searches, stacks bowls and gathers measuring spoons. He finds it after a minute, an index card stained with vanilla and sticky with egg.

"A-ha," he holds up the card triumphantly, a light dusting of flour raining down from it. "Let's see what got you growing me."

Swiss wipes the card on his pants, and recognizes its looping, cursive script as Cumulus' handwriting. Lemon lavender layer cake with -

"No fuckin' way," Swiss says through a laugh. He looks up to find Mountain watching him with a glimmer in his eye. "That's all it took?"

"Yep," Mountain sighs, turning back to the task at hand. "That's all."

Swiss stares at the back of his head for a beat, and then the goofiest smile cracks his face. He tosses the card to the counter and returns to his place at Mountain's back, wrapping him up just a little tighter this time.

"Lucifer, you're a sap," he teases, but they both know it's true. Swiss reaches up and plucks one of the flowers decorating Mountain's antlers, spins it between two fingers. "Not that I'm complaining about bein' on your mind."

"Neither am I, edelweiss," Mountain rumbles. He briefly abandons his dutiful whisking to turn and knock their horns together. "Neither am I."

Mountain ducks down just enough for Swiss to catch him is a leisurely kiss, one that tastes like summery sunshine, and then he's gone again. Leaves Swiss grinning dumbly at the back of his head while warmth trickles into his belly. He settles against the taller ghoul's back, and in no time at all the pair of them start to sway to the music as one.

"So," Swiss murmurs into his shirt after a long moment, "what's a Swiss meringue buttercream, anyway?"

[succulent-ghoul]

Mountain ghoul X swiss ghoul X nerd ghoul reader

Hehehe ghoul reader content has become my fav and when I say nerd I mean videogames nerd. From the perspective of a earth ghoul but it's ambiguous.

--

Your lounging in the den playing videogames it's been absurdly quiet. So far it seems everyone's at practice and you being you decided to skip for a few more hours in your newest online obsession. You've only been topside for a few months and yet you've become enamored with video games. The other ghouls were casual with their entertainment via video games but you were infatuated.

Your so entrenched in your game you didn't notice that two ghouls entered the main den until they were sitting next to you and cuddling. Quickly you finish up your game and turn off your switch to see who's there, revealing Swiss and Mountain. Swiss is laying on top of mountain while they cuddle, swiss flirting up a storm and mountain laughing and pressing kisses onto swiss's lips.

It's not like you don't want them to be happy or anything, but it's awfully awkward listening to them be all lovey-dovey while sitting not even a foot away. Swiss suddenly sits up combing his fingers through his hair and laughs, god his laugh was hot. Quickly you shake your head and turn your switch back on to distract yourself. But before you can go back to your game Swiss snatches your switch away.

"what are you doing?" You almost demand trying to get your switch back swiss laughs again "I'm keeping you from rotting your brain, you've spent all day playing games on this thing. You need to disconnect." Swiss smirks down at you while you jump up and try to get your switch that is just out of reach.

Mountain speaks up "Swiss is right y'know. I haven't seen you separated from that switch in weeks." You look back at mountain with a sense of betrayal. Swiss continues to hold the switch out of reach, and resigning yourself to boredom. You flop on the couch next to mountain, to which he drags you into a hug. You groan and complain but don't actually fight the warm grip mountain has on you.

Not to be outdone swiss falls ontop of the two of you quickly crushing you between him and mount. You groan and push at swiss so you can get comfortable, to which swiss presses kisses to your neck. You giggle and mountain starts pressing kisses to your face, before long your laughing as they press kisses to whichever piece of uncovered skin they can find.

Softly swiss squeezes you as you cuddle, and you can't help but laugh some more as mountain gives you another quick kiss on the cheek.

[ashthewaterghoul]

Perfect - A Swiss Ghoul One Shot

He was staring at his partial-element, when he heard the wind die down completely for a serene few moments where the noise of the gale was replaced by another, much higher pitched shriek. Swiss was almost not sure he heard it. But he felt something. That cloud of anxiety had lifted for a halting moment when it happened. It was a call in so many different ways. He got up and quickly yanked his sweatpants on before opening the door. It was still cold as fuck and the wind had picked right back up again. He stuck his head out and looked around, trying to see who or what may be nearby, calling for Mountain a few times too. But he saw nothing. Swiss thought about that noise he heard though, and looked down instead. Or, After months of gradually debilitating anxiety that seemingly came out of no-where for no reason, Mountain takes Swiss away for a few days in their remote cabin. They had both hoped it might get Swiss out his own head for a bit, away from whatever what causing this, but Swiss never would have expected for it to follow him up there, and certainly hadn't expected this...

Rating: Mature

Words: 3.9k

Relationships: Swiss/Mountain

Tags: Soft Swiss, Soft Dom Mountain for a sec, storms, non-sexual nudity, lil spicy scene, safeword use, implied polyghouls, Mountain nicknames Swiss with different types of cheese, anxiety, panic attack. Spoilers (don't look if you don't want) - Kitfic, accidental baby acquisition sort of, Swiss' horniness catches up to him.

Lil TWs for severe anxiety, panic attacks, a mention of disordered eating, subspace mentions and safe-word use. Don't think there's any other warnings but lmk if I missed any!

~~~~

    Anxiety.

It was something that Swiss had, mercifully, never known too well. He’d always been confident, never had much so there was no fear over what he had to lose, and he’d always been easy going so there was never anything to worry about.

    That was until several months ago…

    Swiss had woken up one morning and just felt odd. It was like he was nervous but had no clue what about. It wasn’t too bad, kind of like when you misplace your favourite shirt and you hope you haven’t lost it. He tried taking a walk to clear his head, his usual “hobbies” for a distraction, then tried to get ridiculously high. But any and all effect was short lived, and that pit in his stomach only seemed to get even bigger and all-consuming.

    It had started in March, and now it was January.

    It had slowly and steadily been getting worse and worse until now it had gotten practically debilitating. To the point that small decisions were making him teeter on the edge of a spiral and everything just felt completely wrong. Nothing was enjoyable or simple anymore because it had been months of feeling like this and he had no clue why. It didn’t correlate with anything like his cycle or his elements flaring up with the changes of seasons - that sometimes put him a bit on edge, but never like this.

Read below the cut of on ao3

    “What do you want for lunch, Switchblade?” Mountain asked gently, breaking Swiss out of his own mind for a moment.

    “Uhh.” Swiss’ eyebrows furrowed, he felt like throwing up all the time so food always seemed like an impossible task.

    “Something little? Like a bag of chips and a banana?” Mountain suggested.

    Swiss had been eating less and less, and it unfortunately was showing. His thicker frame and gorgeous tummy had thinned out some. And despite a lack of energy, he wasn’t sleeping properly either, his eyes bruised from dark purple bags.

    Swiss shook his head. Tears pricked his eyes and his chest started feeling way too tight. No breath wanted to grace his lungs and his tail fixed tightly around his abdomen in a desperate self-soothing attempt that had become all too familiar recently.

    Mountain, instantly recognising his beloved’s panic attack, walked around enveloped him in a hug - tight enough to feel comforting but not too tight to restrict his breathing even more. He’d unfortunately had more than enough practice as of late.

    “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” Mountain soothed, raking his claws over Swiss’ scalp, “Just breathe for me.”

    “Ca- C- Can’t.” Swiss wheezed.

    “Yes, you can. Just focus on me.” Mountain said, making sure to take deep breaths that Swiss would be able to feel and try to imitate himself.

    It took a few minutes, but Swiss calmed enough that Mountain could let go.

    “You back?” He asked gently, cupping one side of Swiss’ face in his palm.

    Swiss nodded, “’m sorry.”

    “You don’t need to be sorry.” Mountain assured, putting his forehead against Swiss’ and just breathing each other in.

    Swiss’ hands raked up Mountain’s sides and slipped under his shirt, instantly bringing a purr from the Earth Ghoul. Swiss’ hands then started pushing under Mountain’s waistband of his sweats and boxers in one go.

    “Hey, hey, hold on.” Mountain said, stopping Swiss’ hands with his own, “You haven’t wanted anything for ages. Are you sure?”

    “Please,” Swiss whispered, “I just want- need to let go for a bit.”

    Mountain scanned Swiss’ face thoroughly and only found pure desperation for his agony to stop. It was something Mountain had done plenty before – Rain suffered with a lot of anxiety and Mountain had become somewhat of an expert in soft dom-ing Rain so far into subspace that the Water Ghoul got to be lifted out of his body for a while. The look in Swiss’ eyes was exactly what he always saw in Rain’s.

    “Okay, Starman. I’ve got you. Gonna take care of you, okay?” Mountain said, cupping Swiss’ face in both hands and kissing his forehead.

    “Please, sir.” Swiss whined.

    “You don’t need to call me that now. You can call me whatever you want, I’ll help you regardless.” Mountain assured.

    “Mounty?” Swiss said.

    “Yes, my heart?”

    “I love you.”

    “I love you too. And you are so strong for wanting to let go for a while.” Mountain said, not expecting an answer but needing to say it, “You don’t have to speak from this point on, not if you don’t want to. Just gotta keep your mind open for me, okay?”

    Swiss nodded and did just that. Mountain held his face steady as the barrage of Swiss’ mental state hit him. He pushed it aside though, finding the part of Swiss’ mind that let them all telepathically communicate.

    This thing on? Mountain asked, just to check, and smiled when Swiss’ shoulders shook in a small laugh and nodded.

    “My room or yours?” Mountain asked, and Swiss wordlessly dragged them to the Earth Ghoul’s room.

    Mountain went about what was basically the routine he had for Rain. He checked in with Swiss plenty, knowing how fraught it all was for him and how scary it must be. Mountain knew he had to live up to his nickname of “gentle giant” as he went about this. And he did. Every pass of his large hands, every swipe with his tongue, every touch of his lips was gentle and reverent, and every word and sound from his lips was full of praise. Swiss had been so good for Mountain, so so good that Mountain could hardly believe that it was the same Ghoul that had often been so bratty it had taken him several hours to tame.

    In Swiss’ mind, Mountain could see how close Swiss was to that edge. This time not doddering towards a spiral, but towards the soft and cushy world of subspace. Once he was there, Mountain would get him deeper, getting him to stay there for a while. Slowly, he’d rise back out and he’d help him come back to this cruel reality. But as Mountain realised how close Swiss was to letting go, Swiss did too.

    Mountain had been as incredible as always. But Swiss’ instincts had been prickling from the moment he felt himself start to drop and give in. He tried to ignore it, desperate for that complete freedom from his mind. He wanted it so bad, to just let go and not feel anything but Mountain. His anxieties though disagreed, screaming at him to stay here because maybe the cause for his angst would come about and what use would he be if he was out of it? Swiss was so willing and eager to let go, yet his mind simply forbade it.

    Mounty?

“Yeah, baby?” Mountain said, breathless and slate-grey skin sweaty, but using his own voice to ground Swiss.

    Red. Can’t.

Instantly, Mountain stopped moving, trying to hide his sorrow on Swiss’ behalf. They both know how bad he needs it, but obviously Mountain is going to respect his boundary.

    “You’re such a good boy for telling me.” Mountain knew Swiss well enough to know that that was still okay to say.

    Swiss whined at the praise though.

    Not. ‘m weak and stupid.

“No, you’re not.” Mountain said, equal parts stern and loving, “You’re so strong. So unbelievably strong.”

    ‘m sorry. He sniffled, tears rolling down his face.

“Do not apologise, my love. It’s not your fault.” Mountain said, kissing his tears away, “Do you me want to…?” He gestured vaguely to where they were still joined.

    Swiss shook his head and pulled Mountain down on top of him, crushing himself and essentially using Mountain as a massive weighted blanket. Mountain just laughed into Swiss’ neck, and complied with the Multi.

    Swiss held onto Mountain like a lifeline and they stayed curled up for the rest of the afternoon. Aether had made a protein shake that Swiss had managed to slowly drink down. Obviously, it wasn’t enough. But Aether and Mountain praised him regardless because it was a big step for him.

    “Swissy?” Aether said.

    “Mhm?” Swiss responded.

    “Do you think it would do you good to get away from the Ministry for a couple days?” The Quint suggested, holding Swiss’ hand and using the contact to gently dose him on some Quintosis to clear the fog slightly.

    Swiss’s chest clenched at the thought of leaving but the same happened with the notion of staying.

    “Dunno.” He said so smally. It was completely uncharacteristic for him and Aether and Mountain’s hearts both ached with it.

    “You could go to the cabin maybe? Go by yourself, or someone with you? The whole pack, if you wanted.” Mountain suggested, his arm around Swiss’ shoulders.

    Swiss relaxed slightly at the thought of their cabin. It was at the edge of a forest that the Ghouls loved to hunt in, and Mountain had built it himself from trees he had grown with his own magic. They loved going there for getaways alone, or with a few or all of them. Sometimes Copia came but that wasn’t a lot - he wasn’t quite able to keep up with his Ghouls when they’re let off their Ministry leashes. The idea of the fresh air up there, the peace and quiet, the privacy and tranquillity made Swiss’ heart flutter in a way it hadn’t for a while.

    “I think you like that idea.” Aether smiled, also feeling the small weight lifting.

    Swiss nodded bashfully and leant against Mountain’s side, “You come with me?”

    “Of course, cheddar.” Mountain said, and Swiss gave a small laugh at the nickname.

    So, the next morning they packed up for a few days, and paid a small visit to see Papa and tell him the plan. The man was very close to his Ghouls and knew the whole situation. He didn’t hesitate to agree, and told them to go.

    Mountain commandeered one of the big 4x4’s to help cross the rough terrain as they neared the cabin, and Swiss DJ-ed for the two. Mountain kept his hand on Swiss’ thigh as much as he could, rubbing soothing circles in and constantly whispering praises for him - masterfully keeping Swiss in a state of submission so Mountain could take as much of the weight as he could, and while they both knew it was unlikely, Swiss could easily give into dropping completely if he wanted.

    When they arrived, they both stripped off. It was their safe space that reminded the Ghouls of their old homesteads and dens in the pits, and in the pits, they were all usually in the buff. It only ever felt like the natural cause of things to do the same here. It also meant that as Mountain lit the fire, and Swiss settled into the furs of the nest, the Multi had plenty of skin-to-skin contact to try and ground himself with. The two laid glued to each other, wandering touches and lazily making out, not at all sexual, just wanting the comfort.

    Although it did start to get late and their stomachs started gurgling.

    “Do you want to come and hunt with me?” Mountain asked.

    “Honestly, I think if I get blood on my fangs right now, I’m gonna hurl.” Swiss answered truthfully.

    Mountain’s face twisted in concern because that was beyond abnormal for hellspawn, “Are you going to be okay by yourself for a bit?”

    Swiss took a deep breathe, “I’ll be okay. Don’t bother about getting anything big, I won’t eat a lot, if at all.”

    “Okay, gruyere.” He stole one last gentle kiss before getting up and starting to gear up for the weather outside. A snow storm was slowly building on the drive up and it was in full effect now. Luckily, Ghouls are a lot more durable than humans so it wouldn’t affect Mountain much more than just being really fucking cold and he did value his extremities.

    Mountain left, and Swiss slumped in the furs. The nest felt way too empty without Mountain in there and so he moved to one of the armchairs by the fire place instead. The wind howled outside, and Swiss tried to let it lull him. He stared into the flames and watched their beckoning dance, reaching a hand out and using his own Fire affinity to play with them a bit more.

    He was staring at his partial-element, when he heard the wind die down completely for a serene few moments where the noise of the gale was replaced by another, much higher pitched shriek.

    Swiss was almost not sure he heard it. But he felt something. That cloud of anxiety had lifted for a halting moment when it happened. It was a call in so many different ways.

    He got up and quickly yanked his sweatpants on before opening the door. It was still cold as fuck and the wind had picked right back up again. He stuck his head out and looked around, trying to see who or what may be nearby, calling for Mountain a few times too. But he saw nothing.

    Swiss thought about that noise he heard though, and looked down instead.

    It was entirely what his instincts told him it would have been, yet he never would’ve actually expected to see a kit, in their bassinet, on his doorstep.

    Instantly he picked up the basket and brought them in. The kit was screaming their little lungs out and their lips, fingers, toes and tail were turning a concerning shade of pale grey from the cold. He sat the both of them in front of the fire and picked them up in their blanket, cradling them close to his chest.

    And that cloud of anxiety that had been weighing down on him all these months, finally lifted now he finally had his daughter in his arms.

    Wait, rewind that a minute… DAUGHTER?!

Swiss couldn’t believe it. Sure, they had always made jokes about how his lascivious lifestyle probably had given him dozens of kits he doesn’t know about. But that’s what they always were, jokes. With Ghoul biology, if it wasn’t his cycle, he wasn’t fertile. And even when he was in his cycle, Aether kept him dosed on a very specific type of Quintessence so there wouldn’t be any byproduct to his magnified horniness.

    The Multi couldn’t deny her though. As soon as her little hand peaked out under her blanket and knocked against his chest, something in his soul clicked. He knew she was his. He could feel the mix of elements coming from her – Earth, Fire and Quintessence as the main ones. As he lifted her up closer to his face, she smelt like him. His scent was one of burning liquor and leather. Hers was also of leather, but instead of the spirits Swiss loved to drink so much, it was something more like warm spices. Gingerbread, Swiss came to the conclusion of. Such a perfectly cosy little bug with her slightly higher body temperature too. There was also the fact that as soon as she was in Swiss’ arms, she started to calm down instantly.

    A quick check in the basket and folds of the blanket gave Swiss no indication of who her mother was, how she came to be, or even her name. Swiss’ Quintessence could tell she was about 3 weeks old, and for her to have been left in that storm for Satan-knows-how long, let alone anything else she had been forced to face, and the fact that she even existed, it was an absolute miracle that she was alive.

    She was squirming again though, and Swiss instantly knew why. If her mother was human, then she didn’t know or wanted to keep her warm, if her mother was a Ghoulette, it was out of mercy for the cold or something crueller. Swiss didn’t dwell on it though as he took her little onesie off and cradled her in his arms again. Skin-to-skin with her father, she settled right back down again. He melted at the sight, and raised his own body heat to keep her warm, also making the fire burn a bit brighter too.

    Satanas, everything felt so perfect now. And Swiss now understood why he had been so anxious for months. Ghouls were insanely protective and territorial, especially for their mates and kits. It was worst with Earth Ghouls, and Swiss’ Earth affinity was one of his strongest, obviously not helping matters. Somehow, their instincts always knew they had made a kit before they did. This started in March so with her being just shy of a month, it was likely that’s when she was conceived. Swiss’ anxiety was over not being able to care for her mother, to build her a birthing nest covered in his scent to keep anyone away, protect her as she gave birth and care for her and the kit afterwards. Well, that was even if it was a she. There were many identities in the Ministry and Swiss wasn’t exactly fussy…

    That didn’t matter now though because finally she’s right where she should be. In Swiss’ arms, where he can nurture her and protect her.

    “Hey, little one.” Swiss whispered, completely choked on every emotion you can think of, “I’m your Papa.”

    Yeah, this felt right.

    Swiss looked at the little Ghuleh. She had thick dark hair; her skin was a slightly darker grey too. She had two little mounds on her forehead where her horns would one day grow through and her tail had the beginnings of a very tiny spade. Her tail was waggling to try and wrap around something so Swiss helped out and coiled it around one of his fingers. Her eyes cracked open, and while far from being fully developed, her irises were bright and shining gold, instantly hypnotising Swiss into doing whatever he could for her. Her round cheeks pulled up into a toothless grin and Swiss laughed.

    “I definitely can’t deny you, can I?” As if he would ever want to.

    She squawked in delight and kicked her tiny feet.

    Swiss would be lying if he said he’d never thought about kits. He just always figured he’d make a terrible father, having way too many unhealthy vices and his behaviour not being mature or domestic enough at all. Then there was a pressure of choosing his kit’s mother. He had a few mates within the pack who had the right anatomy but none of them wanted kits, at least not with any particular urgency. And even if they did decide to have them one day, they’d probably choose a more responsible father like Aether or Mountain. Swiss just never let himself think of it because he figured it would never happen.

    But, one thing he did have was a list. It was buried in the bottom of his notes app and hadn’t been opened for a few years. But Swiss remembered every name he put on there and knew which one his little girl would have.

    “Nyathera.”

    She survived.

As soon as Swiss named her, she gurgled happily, burrowing further into Swiss’ chest. He chuffed a laugh before holding her a little tighter, licking at her head to clean and comfort her, and pushing his scent out. If he had known, he would’ve been scenting whoever caught on him, and scented her as soon as she came into the world and every night for that first week. It was to acclimate her to her father’s scent so she would easily find safety and comfort in it, but it was also a defensive instinct. As grim as it was, kits had a certain smell to them and some would use it to hunt Ghouls while their guards are down, caring for their kits or sleeping at their sides. By covering up the newborn scent, he was protecting her. And he also had a lot of time to make up for.

    “Satan’s fucking toe nail, Switchblade. What are you doing? It absolutely reeks-” Mountain was cut off by himself and his jaw was dropped comically low.

    “I- I- I don’t know either. She was just on the doorstep and, Mountain, my Lord, it’s just so right. I heard her and found her and picked her up. She’s so perfect and she’s mine, Petal, I know it in my bones, my soul, she’s mine.” Swiss rambled furiously and Mountain shucked off his layers as he spoke, the hares he caught left on the kitchenette counter and came over to Swiss.

    He kissed the Multi’s forehead and put his own there, “It’s alright, darling. It’s okay now.”

    “It’s more than okay, it’s perfect.” Swiss whispered.

    Mountain looked down to the tiny Ghuleh and smiled, “What’s your name, little one?”

    “Nyathera.” Swiss said proudly.

    “Well, hello there, Nyathera. I’m Mountain, and I’m going to be the one making sure your Daddy doesn’t burn the Ministry down trying to change your diapers, okay?” He cooed, not touching her until Swiss had given the okay, which he suspected would be a while.

    “Hey! I’ll only singe the curtains a bit, probably.” Swiss smirked, “And it’s Papa to her.”

    Mountain snorted, “Oh, Copia’s gonna love that one.”

    “Tough shit, it just feels right.” Swiss said, tears pricking his eyes and beading on his lashes, “Fuck, Mount, it just feels so right.”

    “It looks it to.” He smiled, “When I walked in here, seeing you hold her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sight suit you more.”

    “Really?” Swiss couldn’t express right now how much that meant to him.

    “Really.” Mountain confirmed.

    “Thank you.” Swiss said, knocking his horns against Mountain’s antlers, “For everything. Taking care of me the last year, almost. I know it wasn’t easy.”

    “It wasn’t, I hated seeing you like that. But none of it was your fault. And I would do it a million times over, forever until the world implodes, if it meant you get to be as happy as you are right now.” Mountain affirmed, rubbing a hand over Swiss’ knee.

    The three Ghouls stayed in silence with one another for a while. Mountain was making an effort to keep his scent in. Swiss’ was the most important right now for little Nyathera. If Swiss wanted one of the pack to help raise her in place of her other biological parent, Mountain would happily put his name on every line of the sign-up sheet, but until then Swiss was all that mattered. To him and Nyathera.

    “C- can you call Aeth?” Swiss eventually broke the silence, “We don’t have anything for her here and nothing came with her. I don’t know how long she was out there for, I don’t know if she was born with anything, I don’t kno-”

    “Shh, my sweet.” Mountain said, an expert at cutting off Swiss-spirals, “I’ll call him now. Do you want to talk or me?”

    “You.” Swiss said instantly.

    “Okay, I’ll go do it now.” Mountain said, kissing Swiss’ horn as he stood and looking again to the little Ghoulette, “You’ll watch him for me for a few minutes now, won’t you, Nyathera?”

    Swiss stuck his tongue out before turning to his daughter, “We’re going to be a great little team, aren’t we, Nya?”

    “Satan help us all.” Mountain grimaced as he went to the other side of the cabin - a specific spot by the corner that randomly had better signal that the rest of the place - and dialled Aether. As Mountain gave a very brief rundown of the night’s events, Swiss laughed as even he could distinctly hear Aether’s confusion.

Nya joined in with some gorgeous giggles herself, and Swiss knew that the two of them would conquer the world.

    Aether’s voice, despite not being on speaker nor Mountain’s phone being on full volume, could clearly be heard shouting: “I’m sorry, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!”

Yeah, Swiss was going to have a lot of explaining to do…

~~~

a/n: SwissAlps was meant to be a SINGLE SENTENCE in this. It was just meant to be a line about Swiss having to safeword but, these two dorks stuck around and I love SwissAlps, so I won't complain. Also, yes, I took the name Nyathera from my ficlet Metamorphosis , but this is a separate thing, Rain is not Nya's other parent. It's just a pretty name and I like it lol.

One shot master post can be found here!

[sentientgolfball]

if you’re still doing the cute lil sentence starters can we do: “Let’s share my coat, since you’re so cold.”

for my beloved swiss alps (swiss/mountain)

WOE SWISSALPS BE UPON YOU

I need to write more of these two OUGH

The snow had stopped some time late, when not a single soul of the Ministry was awake save for the odd rodent. It left the land covered in a thick white blanket as far as the eye could see. The windows were frosted over, concealing the early winter morning from those who began to rise. The air in the abbey was frigid as Sibling and ghoul began their daily chores. The fire ghouls worked hard to shelter the ancient building from the bite of the cold. 

Deep in the ghoul den Swiss is wide awake. He normally stays in bed even after the first rays of the sun call to the little bit of fire in, but today he didn’t get woken from its light. Instead he was jostled from sleep when Mountain left the bed, mumbling something about duties when he pressed a kiss to Swiss’ forehead. He wasn’t fully conscious then, but now that he is he can’t close his eyes. 

He couldn’t even if he wanted to. If he had been more awake when Mountain left he would’ve stopped him. Winter leaves him drained, the frozen earth making it hard to hear his element. Yet Mountain continues to push himself. Swiss thought that by turning up his heat and curling close to his side he’d get Mountain to rest, but the snowstorm ruined his plans. Mountain would not rest until he was certain everything was handled. 

All Swiss can do now is go out there and bring him back. If Mountain won’t listen to his body then he’ll have to listen to Swiss. If he keeps pushing himself he’ll get sick, or worse. He doesn’t know what happens to an earth ghoul who refuses their hibernation and he doesn’t want to find out. He tries not to think about it as he fills a thermos with one of Mountain’s favorite blends of tea. Swiss gets himself bundled up before stepping out into the snowy world the Ministry has become. 

He tries the greenhouse first, assuming Mountain might be tending to some of the more versatile vegetation or pumping the place full of earth magick to keep things alive. He comes up short though, no Mountain in sight. No one in sight actually, not even a Sibling or another earth ghoul. He hums in disappointment before stepping back outside. 

“Alright big guy, where are you hiding?” He muses to himself as he scans the treeline. 

His eyes catch on prints in the snow. When he moves to investigate, he finds that they’d rather large hoof prints. They lead straight into the forest. 

“Bingo.” He smiles and begins to follow the trail. 

They lead him deep into the woods, thinning out every so often as the level of snow changes. He hopes maybe Mountain came out here to nest with Ivy in its den, maybe some weird earth ghoul bullshit calling out to him. He knows he’s wrong, but he can still hope. His only other hope is that Mountain isn’t passed out somewhere out here. Swiss may be strong but he’s not that strong. There’s no way he’d be able to get Mountain back to the Ministry. 

Thankfully it’s not long before he hears the rhythmic sound of someone chopping wood. He picks up his pace just a bit until Mountain finally comes into view. Despite the freezing temperatures, Mountain is sweating. His cheeks are flushed and every breath he takes results in large puffs of steam. He splits another log as Swiss calls out to him. 

“Glad to see you’re not dead!” He shouts as he walks over. 

“Why…would I be dead?” Mountain pants, tossing the two halves of wood onto a sizable pile. 

“Because, my love, you’re an idiot.” 

Before Mountain can even reply Swiss steps in front of him, extending the thermos out to him. Mountain hesitates before sighing and taking it from him. Swiss hums in satisfaction, wrapping his arms around Mountain’s shoulders and moving him to sit on a log. He must really be tired because he doesn’t protest, allowing himself to be guided. 

“Made it just for you. With that one rose blend you like.” Swiss crouches in front of Mountain, resting his hands on his thighs. His eyes shift from their normal black and white to orange and yellow as his fire comes to the surface. Mountain sighs appreciatively as the warmth bleeds through the layers of clothing. 

He uncaps the thermos, humming when the scent of the tea hits. He takes a long drink, practically chugging it. Swiss stares at him. Mountain would never drink so quickly, always going on about savoring the taste. When he finally pulls the container away, Swiss gets a good look at him. Past the flushed cheeks he looks pale. His eyes look sunken, dark lines carved under them. He’s exhausted. 

Swiss reaches out to take the thermos from him when Mountain extends it to him. He hisses when their hands brush against each other, “Momo your hands are ice. You need to take a break.” 

“Can’t. The fire ghouls need more wood for the abbey,” he mutters. 

“The fire ghouls aren’t gonna get any wood if you turn into a popsicle.” Swiss stands from his crouched position. 

He shoves his hands into his pockets before wrapping Mountain up in his arms, heat still radiating off of him. He feels him slump into it, muscles relaxing as he nuzzles his face against Swiss’ chest. He’s anxious to get Mountain back inside, maybe go to the bathing pools and lock the door. Let him soak in the hot water until he’s on the verge of sleep. Get him a hot meal and right back into their nest so he can rest. Even so, Swiss doesn’t rush him. He holds him like this until Mountain relents on his own. 

“I’ll let Ifrit know…” Mountain’s words are muffled where his face is still pressed against Swiss. 

He smiles and kisses the top of his head. He’s not going to say it outloud, but Swiss knows what he means. He’s just happy he doesn’t have to drag him back. 

“Let’s get going. I’ll make you that mushroom soup you like.” Swiss begins to pull away but Mountain tightens his grip. Swiss makes a questioning trill in the back of his throat. 

“Warm.” Is the only explanation Mountain supplies. 

Swiss just chuckles and presses another kiss to the top of his head, “Come on you overgrown caribou, I’ll let you wear my coat since you’re so cold.” 

Swiss shrugs off his canvas coat and drapes it over Mountain’s shoulders. He laces his hands with his, pulling him to his feet. They walk back to the abbey in comfortable silence. Swiss keeps his fire going the whole way, making sure his heart never freezes. 

[nastylittleghouls]

Mountain: You give me butterflies Swiss: Huh? I don't remember giving you anything Mountain: No. I mean. I have butterflies in my stomach Swiss: YOU ATE THEM?!

[forlorn-crows]

crow I'm going to bite you so damn hard for that swissalps thought I swear

you'll just have to keep biting me i guess. rambling essentially co-written by @askingforthesun bc we wouldn't shut up about it last night

[continuation of this post]

Swiss kneeling between his legs, keeping them open so he can see mountain clench around nothing. Mountain dripping and whining and wriggling bc he wants more, but oh, swiss is nothing but a menace. Big hands on mountains thighs while he stretches him open and mountain is panting and making the loveliest sounds. Moans and hiccups and whines that go through the break in his voice. Hole clenching around the plug begging it to go all the way in

So patient, being such a good boy for me as swiss denies him the one thing he wants. Little dick just throbbing, getting so full from being untouched. 

Swiss-uhh, mountain whines with his head tossed back on the pillow

Mountain-uhhh, swiss only teases back. What you want, baby, hm?

Need it in, please, put it in

Its not all the way in bc he wont let mountains body suck it all the way in, its hovering at the widest part and he just wants to cry. He wants to feel full and swiss is just tormenting him bc he wants to see his wet cunt squeeze around nothing

And swiss being swiss, when he finally does push it all the way in, he does it with his pinky, ring and middle sinking into his cunt simultaneously and trapping mountain’s clit between his thumb and forefinger.

That’s it baby, right there, huh? All sweet and sappy and mountain nearly cries bc gods its so fucking much. Torture and pleasure all at once and he’s drooling so much, he cant think straight

Gonna cum—fuck ‘m gonna— and swiss encouraging him come on, baby, be a good boy and lemme see you cum for me

And mountain whines like a wounded animal, huffing out moans every time his stomach spasms as hes cumming and all swiss can do is watch, eyebrows upturned and groaning out a fuuuuck yes

His own dick is nice and chubby now, so drunk on watching mount’s ass clench around this pretty pink toy and….yeah, he wants in now. Wants to replace that plug with his hard as steel cock, fuck another one out of him. Sweet talkin mount as hes still coming down let me treat you right sweetheart and his hands just alllll over him. Draping himself over the earth ghoul and mouthing at his neck, begging to fuck him and mountain can only whine out a sad uh huh

Swiss slowly turning him onto his belly. Rutting his cock against the flair of the plug and lucifer the noises mountain makes.

Gonna fuck you so good, baby, so much better than that toy groaning and growling right up against mountain’s ear yeah? Gonna take it for me? Shit makes you so wet, doesn’t it? And hes stroking his folds so soft compared to the rest of what hes doing

Mountain just nodding feverishly against the sheets, pressing his ass back against swiss’ length. Claws digging into the fabric, close to ripping and swiss chuckles so deep. Pulling at the plug and relishing in the way it makes him drip

Lets get you filled up, pretty boy

[sak-supernatural]

Polyghouls Headcanons

Swiss is definitely the heart of the polycule and you can't tell me any different. He is the center point, the one who has a relationship with everybody, the one who brings them all in. He is literally shipped with almost all of the ghouls/ghoulette way more than any other. Like I see him commonly with Rain, Phantom, Sodo/Dewdrop, Aether, Aurora, Mountain... the list goes on but that's what I've got off the top of my head right now. (Just type Swiss into the relationship tag search on ao3 and you'll see what I mean).

Not to say the other ghouls aren't swapped around, but I feel like some of them have more defined pairings of who they're closest with. Swiss just gets along with everybody, and yeah that's some of my polyghouls headcanons

No. of works (at time of posting) ...

Swiss/Dewdrop - 461

Swiss/Rain - 289

Swiss/Phantom - 175

Swiss/Mountain - 172

Swiss/Arther - 118

Swiss/Aurora - 82