#lickingtheflames

Angsty Questions Prompt @lickingtheflames

To be built perfect is all but asking to be broken down brutally. Every piece of the Quintessence was forged with deep thought, with careful precision like a patient under a godly knife. His body was sculpted to carry and defend, his horns built to gore and puncture, his essence an effigy to his creator, Lucifer. Long may Lucifer reign as Aether's light shines on the world. A muscular tail snakes out of the lacing of his waistband, protectively coiling around his leg as a source of grounding with the question.

The shirtless Ghoul stared down at his chest and the litany of scars covering his flesh. Some were scars inflicted by a hunter most Holy, some were caused by jealous demons of Hell who wished to defile one of Lucifer's most perfect creations. Choosing his battles when it came to stories, Aether pointed to the deep, ragged scars across his pecs and sternum.

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"Of course we all do, but the severity of the secret definitely will have an effect on how hard we work to hide it. Something as simple as a white lie may stay hidden for a day at most, but there are some feelings we prefer to keep to ourselves. Telling every single truth we've ever thought would be stressful, it would be even more terrifying than facing thousands of crowds in our line of work, yeah?" Aether is able to place himself in the shoes of others, knowing that even the grandest, loudest, most emotionally wrecked Ghouls could keep their secrets.

the answer is no, but dew isn't going to admit that. get him too angry, & he'll throw in the towel on whatever. driven by discomfort of anxiety, & the warmth of embarrassment. at least in the moment. though he always will pick things back up, when he calms down. like a child, when things don't go their way... he looks down at dew, with a cigarette between his fingers. one leg dangling, while the other is perched. shrugging at the other, idly.

"why not? -- there's nothing i can do about it." [...] "at least not internally." dewdrop grumbles. deflating slightly, & looking down at a torn thread in his jeans with a furrow of blond brows. anything he's tried, to help him control his dormant water genes -- have failed miserably. evaporating, before his very eyes.

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"Oh, look at you! Someone's a spitfire, huh?" Tail swatting from side to side, Aether's happy to have pushed this behavior out of Dew. The ghoul had been way too pent up and frustrated, his behavior around Aether more than proving Aether's assumption. Dew just needed to bone! That was all! He just needed to have some way to let all of that out. Somedays, it honestly helped just to fight and chase and get it out, but today? Nah. That wasn't gonna be the way to do it. Aether knew where this was headed, and he was happy to go to Dew's bedroom to sort it all out.

NSFW Prompts @lickingtheflames

"And what would that something be, hm?" Words are spoken, gentle and open as to not accuse or assume Dewdrop's meaning. These kind, quiet moments are rare between the duo as they often find themselves with guitar picks to throats and tails pulled and scratches and claw marks from playfights. The way they showed affection was different than how they behaved around the other Ghouls. Curled up in Aether's own nest of blankets, his tail wags and snakes down to wrap around Dew's own tail, a sign of Aether opening up to him and reciprocating those needs of affection and love.

Dewdrop,

As I am sure you know, I am not disposed to public displays of affection, nor would I say I am overtly romantically inclined, very seldom do I feel the desire for intimacy of any kind, but these past few months, your company has been indispensable. Misery, as they say, loves company, and it appears you have been saddled with mine.

I am not accustomed to human traditions, but I am, you might imagine, quite accustomed to letter writing; one of the Brothers of Blasphemy was kind enough to explain to me the customs of St. Valentine's Day. Humans, I have been told, pen anonymous letters to one another, and bedeck their beloved with gifts, all under the pretense of a 'secret admirer'. Regrettably, I believe my cadence and my penmanship are a little too distinctive for any such deception, neither do I have the patience for such dalliances, and yet, you have become something of a preoccupation.

There are few things in this realm capable of striking fear into the heart of this old ghoul, and you are one of them. I never expected to find love here, on the surface, of all places, much less did I expect to find it in the company of another ghoul, within these accursed walls. I write here the words I have been too afraid to say, that have dwelt within the hollow of my calcified heart.

I have loved you, as much as I will allow myself to love anything in a world where life can be extinguished in the blink of an eye; I have stood by as the lives of my sons were snuffed out like candles after black mass, I have bitten my tongue as the Ministry I have loved has fallen into a state of disrepair, and I have been a complicit in the expulsion and execution of my packmates. I have lost all a ghoul can lose without losing his mind entire. Should I lose my mind tomorrow, or should I lose my life, please know that you have been my solace; my tranquility at the heart of the storm.

You have been the last bastion of hope in this Ministry, come Hell or Holy water, that is what you must remain, with or without me. Come the 'morrow, things in the Ministry will be different, that much I swear to you: on the Father Above and the Father Below.

"that's bullshit & you know it." blond veil breaks up the sun that peers in through the windows, as he sits on the ground. one knee drawn up, smoking his cigarette. the ghoul is hunched over, head down. he doesn't love looking at his counterpart. his own gills naught more than closed scars on the side of his neck, poking out from the collar of his leather jacket.cauterized. funny... he wouldn't have been so forthcoming, if he wasn't talking to himself. probably would have claimed the same thing, but with dewdrop, it was anything to prove a point. anything to grab the upper-hand, & relinquish any opportunity to be hurt. "& here i thought we were the ones always going on about, 'our pack' --" dew finally looks up at his matching visage, as he leans back against the surface. his other leg down, but still folded. knee pointed at the far wall, with his wrist hanging over the other. "don't forget." he pushes a thin stream of smoke through his nostrils. head tilting, whilst he moves his hair over a horn. "you're preaching to the choir, sodo."