Cocoa With Chili

DAMN YOU ALL REALLY LIKED THAT LITTLE DEWTHER KIT DRABBLE HUH

I’m so glad because I haven’t stopped thinking about Pearl. I’m literally figuring out lore and a design for her as we speak. Im making her a whole ass oc and you WILL be subjected to her :3

Mushy May, day 9. Warming them up.

Rating: E

Pairing: Ifrit/Dewdrop

Words: 865

Summary: Dew knows true warmth for the first time, and he can't get enough. Neither can Ifrit. Or, Ifrit and Dew fuck for the first time post Dew's transition.

Thank you @forlorn-crows (the beloved) for doing this as always :)

Head dropping into the pillow, Ifrit knew he was inches away from unraveling and no amount of measured breathing would save him from that fact. 

He could have laughed at himself, should have cursed at himself, but all he managed was a shuddered sigh as the freshly made fire ghoul sank down the length of his cock. Slowly, with his skinny thighs trembling where they bracketed his hips. Dew was struggling just as much as he was. It was a familiar but impossible stretch, always was, but it was different this time. He was carving out a spot for Ifrit and Ifrit alone, giving himself and this elementally changed body to Ifrit. Dew had been set on it, on Ifrit being the first - on Ifrit always being his first. Having barged into his room, skin still steaming, smelling of incense and salt, he wasted no time. 

Ash certainly dirtied his sheets, still smeared on Dew's body and now on his own, but Ifrit couldn’t find the concern for linens within himself. Not when the embrace of Dew's walls were both molten and velvet, too snug around his poor cock to leave room for anything in his head. All he could focus on were the multiple, searing points of contact between them and the heat. 

He was used to the heat. A fire ghoul forged from an eternal flame within the endless pits of sulfur, Ifrit found home within hellfire but Dew was beyond it. Well past burning and Ifrit wanted to bear the scars of the blaze he was becoming. 

Literal sparks crackled around Dew's head like some strange halo when he abruptly forced himself down those last few torturous inches. Impatient as ever, a changing of element would never take that from him. It knocked the wind from both of them. 

His eyes nearly rolled up into his skull but he did all he could not to fold and admit to the coiling sensation in his belly. If he ignored the way his balls ached maybe he could hold out. 

Dew wasn't fairing much better, clearly. His mouth had fallen open in a silent cry, chin tucked to his chest, steadying himself against Ifrit's broad chest. The red in his cheeks practically glowed, a striking hue against pale cool-toned skin. He was burning up from the inside out, a flame trapped and flickering under his skin, and Ifrit didn't want to blink lest he miss a second of his lover or the fruit of this long awaited rebirth. The head of his cock was just as flushed. Angry and leaking profusely against Ifrit's stomach, a water ghoul trait his vessel stubbornly clung onto much to Dew's apparent chagrin.

Palms sliding up Dew's thighs, feeling the twitching muscle beneath the weight of his hands, it all felt too real. A day he'd been waiting for. Suspended in anticipation, counting down the seconds until Dew and him were alike at the deepest parts of their being. Made kindred flames at the behest of the morning star himself. 

Ifrit squeezed at his hips to bring Dew back to earth with him. They both deserved to exist wholly in this moment. His fingers nearly touched around his waist. 

“I'm here” Dew rasps. The first words he'd spoken since before he was whisked away by clergy members to a place Ifrit could not follow. The first words since he'd punctuated their temporary goodbye with a kiss too chaste to savor the meaning of. His voice was deeper or perhaps his vocal chords were stripped raw. 

“You're here.” Ifrit whispered, smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. It's big and a bit too goofy for the position they found themselves in but it makes Dew's heart flutter and his cock jump. They both notice the latter. “How does it feel?” 

Dew lifted his head, soot stained hair curtaining his face. Carefully placed shadows on his sharp features. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, not yet bruised but pinker than they'd ever been. Everything was new down to the very sensations. He struggled to find the words, clearly. Ifrit could see the tangled threads of thought behind those copper tinged eyes. 

“Hot.” The word practically dripped off his tongue, sighing out wisps of smoke as Ifrit tucked his hair behind his ear. He wanted to bottle it and save it. “Never felt this warm before,” his shoulders shook with a breathless laugh. “S'weird.” 

“Bad?” 

“Good, real good…Is it always like this?” 

“Oh firefly,” the pet name somehow makes Dew feel tighter around him and Ifrit was forced to admit defeat. He couldn't last like this. “You'll never feel cold again. Don't even need me to keep you warm anymore.” 

Something a little like panic, or even disappointment flickered in his eyes. “But - But you still will, right?” 

Ifrit pulled him down. Chest to chest where they could both feel the steady beating of their hearts falling in sync. The short lived tension in his body melts away. Evaporates like steam, unseen and forgotten immediately. He thinks Dew might have finally found a way to crawl under his skin and stay there with how he clung to him. 

“Always, droplet.” 

Swiss covering my mouth...I mean, Phantom's mouth with his big hands. Now, that's a thought.

Phantom from being all shy and quiet when he first enters the pack to him being the most vocal little cutie during sex. Not able to keep quiet for more than a second. He also has to giggle in between the most obscene moans and whimpers. Sometimes he is so loud and nonstop moaning and muttering filthy nonsense that it gets a bit too much for his partners.

They say Swiss sometimes covers Phantom's mouth with his hand and tells him to "shut the fuck up, already" while he fucks him.

This only makes Phantom lose his mind more. Obviously. 👹

Vore blue no matter what

going through a really bad bout of remembering trauma, thinking about swiss so overwhelmed with stress and not wanting to bother any of the ghouls, going to seek papa out for comfort. he doesnt shy away this time, takes a deep breath and ratters on the door to his office, papa giving him work to do and praises to get everything off his mind :,) hes not even little he just doesnt know how to cope properly or live with himself, sorry for the constant asks!!!! - 🗝

First I'm sorry this took so long to get to, but ...life did life things. Also, I didn't really follow the prompt because apparently Swiss had other ideas but I hope it's ok.

And most importantly, I hope you're doing alright 🩷🩷🩷

Cw: Swiss can't sleep, storms mentioned, Swiss climbing things he probably shouldn't be lol he's fine he doesn't get hurt but Copia isn't a fan!, middle Swiss (as usual I do refer to him as the little ghoul because they all get physically smaller but he's a middle I just remember there was a little confusion before 🩷), cg Copia

Sleep doesn't always come easy for Swiss, especially when he's dropped and had been on edge all day. It wasn't a bad day, but a storm was coming and he could feel it in his veins and it made him antsy. It was fine during the day when he was busy, he didn't really have time to focus on it, but now, laying alone in his bed it's all his mind can do.

He pushes himself up with a heavy sigh, he knows he's not going to be able to sleep any time soon and just laying there isn't going to help anything. He opens the window and shoves his head outside, he can smell the storm, it's closer but not quite here yet and he groans. If it just started he'd feel better.

He grabs a few of his comics and his blanket and heads down to the common room. It's hardly the first time he's done this and he usually wakes up tucked in with his head pillowed on someone's lap. He knows he could go wake someone up for company but he doesn't want to be a bother, especially with something that none of them can really help with.

It's usually completely silent when Swiss sneaks down like this, if anyone was still up they are usually in their rooms but he definitely hears something in the kitchen. It's not totally out of the realm of possibility that someone got thirsty or something...

When he peeks around the corner he expects to see Phantom, maybe Dew or Ifrit. He's definitely not expecting Copia.

He's in his sleep pants and an old band t-shirt and he's got glasses on but he just looks...tired.

"Papa?"

He jumps at Swiss' voice, turning with his hand over his heart. "Lucifer! You scared me Piccola tempesta!" (Little storm)

"Sorry...wasn't tryin to sneak up on you...whatcha doin?"

"Well I..." He drags his hand across the back of his neck. "I can't seem to get to sleep and I was hoping some of Mountain's tea would help but...I don't know where he keeps it."

Swiss sets his comics on the table and drapes his blanket on the back of one of the chairs.

"I can help, I know where it is. What kind do you want?"

"He gave me a lavender one the last time."

"Ok!" Swiss climbs up on the counter and Copia races to stand behind him, hands nervously fluttering around him in case the little ghoul slips.

"Please be careful!"

Swiss laughs a little. "I do this all the time! I like climbing. You know that big tree down by the greenhouse? I can get really high in there!"

Copia groans dramatically. "Do you want my heart to give out?"

Swiss giggles again and grabs the tea, lowering himself carefully before hopping off the counter.

"See? I'm a pro!"

"Yes, but I think I may have a few more grey hairs." He says it with a soft smile and starts getting the kettle ready to boil. He notes Swiss is fidgeting, eyes not staying on Copia. "What's the matter amore Mio?"

"Nothin....I just can't sleep..." He shrugs. "Just gonna read on the couch."

Copia hums. "Well, would you like some company? I can't sleep either, maybe you can tell me about your comics."

Swiss' eyes light up, bright gold like stars. "Really?"

"Why don't you put a little snack together and I can make you a hot chocolate."

Swiss chirps and bounces over to the pantry to grab out the crackers with cheese in the middle. He grabs a handful of marshmallows, some chocolate chips and heads to the fridge for some berries and cheese cubes.

Copia watches with a small smile, happy that the little ghoul feels a bit better.

They make their way to the couch after the drinks are done and Swiss scoots close, his back pressed to Copia's side while he starts talking about the comics he's currently reading. He listens intently, asking questions occasionally until the answers start getting more spaced out.

Copia peeks down at his face, his lashes fluttering as he struggles to keep his eyes open. He moves the snack off to the side, shushing the half hearted protests of the little ghoul still happily snuggled into his side.

"Just moving it to the table, you can still reach it if you want." His voice is soft and he adjusts the blanket over Swiss.

"Still....still wanna hear 'bout the next one?"

His voice is slurred with sleep and Copia struggles to not laugh at the jumbled words.

"If you'd like to tell me."

"Well it starts with..." His head lolls to the side as his words taper off, eyes closed as he drifts away to sleep.

Copia adjusts his head up against his shoulder so his neck won't be sore in the morning. He kisses the top of his head, tightening his arms around him when the first flash of lightning lights up the room, a low roll of thunder quickly following.

The little multi ghoul looks peaceful, his face relaxed as he sleeps against papa, breaths deep and even. Copia watches the storm through the big window, takes note of how Swiss relaxes just a little more with each flash and loud boom. It's fascinating and he's so grateful for each of his ghouls and how different they all are.

He rests his head back against the couch, allowing his eyes to shut so he can just listen to the storm and Swiss' breathing.

"Dormi bene, mia piccola tempesta." (Sleep well, my little storm.)

Mushy May Day 10- quiet nights

Aethers overwhelmed in the infirmary. Omega and delta calm him down.

Thanks to @forlorn-crows for the prompts this month!

Aethers eyes stung.

He stared at the speckled white countertop while delta whizzed past him once again to check someone’s beeping iv. His head felt fuzzy, his vision felt far away. A pressure behind his eyes he could only hope wasn’t any real tears, just exhaustion. The sterility of the air made his stomach turn, an absent thought granted to wonder when the last time he ate was.

“Hey, are you doing alright?”

A large hand rested on aethers back. Omegas voice was comforting, almost too much so. Enough that the pressure behind aethers eyes only deepened as he attempted to blink away whatever tears were forming. It shouldn’t be overwhelming, just the knowledge that omega recognized his emotions and cared, but aether can barely speak beyond the handful of napkins that felt wadded in his throat to express that he was ok.

The silence was enough for omega. He remembers his first couple months topside. Always either touring, practicing, or attempting to tend to any sick or wounded siblings. A constant rotation of activity and need. Delta also barely held it together as well when he was first thrown into the rotation of being a quint, mostly being sent down to help in the morgue. Hes always been better with them anyways.

But staff was short, and something was going around the abbey. It was just a couple minutes past midnight before they all had even gotten the chance to breathe. Aether felt as if he was holding constant pressure on a wound. Enough attention and force to hold the blood in, until it eventually stopped. The moment to calm down leaving it to bleed freely.

The beeping from down the hall stopped. Silence fell over the wing as static rushed to fill the space in aethers head.

“Just take a second aether, sit down” omega pulled out a chair and lightly pushed on his shoulder to get him to sit. Aether played with his hands nervously in his lap. He feels like he had forgotten something, like there was a mistake he missed, like there had to be something else to do.

Delta soon walked back to take his own seat in the nurses station, giving omega a concerned look over aether state.

“Jellyfish, can you grab aether some water?” Omega said quietly over his shoulder “and maybe one of the expired granola bars”

“I’m fine omega” aether finally spoke, looking up at the older ghoul. “Just a long night, I can handle it”

“It’s ok if you can’t”

Omega pulled up another chair into their little triangle when delta handed him the small snacks. It was a nice peaceful moment between them, omega wondered how many times they’d been able to sit together without it being band or work related.

“You haven’t drank any water in 5 hours. You’re upset because you’re dehydrated and hungry” delta mentioned matter of factly. Aether had to snort at the bluntness, taking a small swig of his water.

“Again, I’ll be ok. I’ll get used to it, a lot happened tonight but it’s fine” the granola bar made him cringe. The spoiled plastic taste on his tongue making him take another larger drink of water. He would have to tell papa later they needed a better supply of food back here, though he’s sure the others have mentioned it.

“Even delta still can’t handle it aeth, that’s why we banish him to the morgue. So we definitely don’t expect you to be ok with everything so soon” omega joked, sending a lighthearted smile to delta.

“I thought they sent delta to the morgue because he made the siblings uncomfortable?”

“They did” delta said

They couldn’t help but all giggle with each other, half a joke and half a truth, but delta never minded.

“You’re doing great, kid, just know that. I’m proud to have you here with us. Besides, the siblings love you”

“They do?” Aether asked

“Yeah, one earlier said that she wanted you to take her temperature with your-“

“Delta” omega warned

I can't even eat my feelings today because of Ozempic

I have Ghost tickets for Kansas City, so yeah, I'm actually quite happy.

Prompt #1134

"Are you happy?"

"Fuck. I actually think I am."

To Bea Okay Pt. 1: The First of a Thousand Steps Forward

[A desperate young woman with nothing to lose accepts a job offer that's a little too good to be true. Or, how Bea came to work for the ministry.] Below the cut.

From the moment she's approached on the street, Bea thinks to herself that this has to be some kind of elaborate scheme; That the flyer she is holding in her hands is a one way ticket to losing her kidneys to some back alley surgeon, and that she should do herself a favor and throw it away.

But, looking up from the embossed print at the odd nun who had handed it to her, she just gives a noncommittal shrug and tucks it away inside of her tote bag along with all the other random bullshit she's been handed already.

Despite putting on her bravest, bitchiest face when approached by people trying to give her stuff like this, Bea's never been good at turning people down when they aren't put off by her obvious annoyance and discomfort, because, quite frankly, saying "No" has always been a difficult thing for her to do.

Now, standing by a dumpster, Bea reaps what she's sown and turns her tote bag upside-down, letting its contents filter out into the trash.

Not like she has anything important in there anyway.

Everything slips away just fine, except for that stupid fancy flyer the nun gave her -the cardstock much more rigid than the flimsy printer paper she's usually handed- which gets caught up in the handles of her bag, and when shaking it doesn't loosen it even an inch, Bea gives an irritated grunt and rips it from there herself.

Looking at the paper once more, Bea leans herself against the bricks behind her and takes a moment to actually read what it says again;

"Now Hiring: Year Round Groundskeeper, Inquiries Please Visit Our Community Outreach Post At The Nunnery On Maple View."

Huh.

Bea squints at the page searching for any fine print or any obvious red flags, going so far as to hold the flyer up to the sparse sunlight peaking through the clouds overhead, searching for... something.

And that's when she sees it, the faintest hint of a odd sigil that appears like a phantom as the light shines through the dense paper;

It looks like an inverted cross with a circle set around the bottom.

"That's..."

Lowering the flyer, Bea tilts her head back against the wall, thinking.

On one hand, this is obviously sketchy as hell, but on the other hand, perhaps not the organ snatching kind of sketchy she thought it was.

Or maybe it's just a very fancy organ snatching thing.

She pushes away from the wall and shakes her head.

Honestly, if this is some kind of cult thing, she should hand this in to the authorities, but Bea's never gotten along with cops, and even if she hasn't done anything illegal in... about a year or so?

Yeah, she's not risking getting stuck in jail overnight.

But checking out a possible cult in the city using a groundskeeping job as a scam to draw in someone desperate enough to go for it?

Color Bea impressed.

And fucking desperate as shit.

If the offer turns out to be legitimate, cult or no cult, Bea's been looking for an opportunity like this.

Finally, a fucking chance of not sleeping in her car!

Erm... maybe.

Looking at herself in the window of an empty store front, Bea's not exactly the kind of person you'd want to hire on the spot; She's not big or tall, she's sturdy, compactly built, but entirely unassuming dressed as she is now.

It doesn't help that her hair hasn't been washed in days, or that she hasn't been able to keep up with basic hygiene like brushing her teeth, but-

...She needs this.

She needs to get out of this hole she's dug for herself.

Pinching her eyes shut, Bea takes a deep breath, rolls her shoulders, and stands up straight.

Fuck it.

Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it... she's going to do it.

She's gonna do it.

She's going to go in and ask about the job.

.

.

.

Bea's not sure exactly what a nunnery is or what purpose it serves -beyond being a place where nuns live- but sitting in the hallway waiting to be interviewed, she can at least admire the nice architecture.

It's strange though.

The lack of crosses on the walls.

In fact, there's not a lot of religious iconography anywhere in this front room, not that she minds really.

Bea's never been exceedingly religious; She wasn't brought up going to church, even if her mother had been raised Catholic, she, too, seemed disinterested in continuing on with her faith.

Not that she could really blame her.

Life had not been kind to her mother, and as a result Bea's hadn't turned out much better, but a small part of her has always held onto the hope that things could get better... even if things had really gone south for her over the last couple of years.

Lifting her head from her lap, Bea surveys the others waiting in the hall, folding back into herself just a little when she realizes she's the only woman here.

This sort of thing doesn't exactly surprise her all told, but it does make her a bit less confident that she'll even be considered for the job.

By and large people hiring for landscaping work or other jobs requiring physical labor prefer to hire men, even if Bea has the experience and know how, some folks are just set on the idea that someone like her can't -or even shouldn't- be working in this field.

She'd gotten enough "well meaning" lectures from older men about how she wasn't built for this kind of work, that she should stop cutting her hair, that she should smile more, and-

"Beatrix Milne?" A gentle voice calls, drawing her from her internal ramblings.

She stands and is greeted by a sweet looking, elderly nun, who gestures smoothly for her to approach and enter the room to her right.

Inside the room, sits an older woman dressed in mostly black with a brown shawl draped over her shoulders, grey and blond hair tied back in a tight bun that makes Bea's own head ache from the tension present there.

"Have a seat." the woman smiles, and Bea does what she's told, moving her tote bag into her lap so it doesn't catch on the arm of the chair, "I have to say, this is a refreshing sight, I've seen thirty men so far... It's nice to see a young woman like yourself applying for a position like this."

"I... Mn." Bea bites her tongue, unsure of how to feel about that statement, opting to simply nod instead, "I've worked similar jobs in the past, so I thought I would apply."

"Experience is a desired trait." the woman chuckles, tenting her fingers on the desk, "Introductions first; I am Sister Imperator, I am, as my title might suggest, the mother superior of this particular nunnery, though perhaps not for much longer..."

She gives a somber smile.

"And you are?"

"Beatrix Milne, or just Bea..." she says, "When you say that..."

"My health is in decline." Sister Imperator supplies, answering Bea's unfinished question, not seeming in the least bit offended by it either, "I intend to retire soon, and return home to the countryside, which is why I am hoping to hire a new groundskeeper; The property maintained by my family is quite large and difficult for someone such as myself to tend to, even with the help of the other residents of the property, only a handful of them are skilled in art of horticulture and understand the balance between beauty and the thoughtful maintenance required to care for the surrounding green spaces..."

"Additionally, there are tasks that need to be done that require the knowledge of how to use highly specific tools and machinery that I would not risk allowing an inexperienced individual using for fear of damaging it or themselves." she explains, "I also do not enjoy pulling them from their studies to work outside..."

"Studies?"

"Part of the property houses a school of sorts, a small one, but a school nonetheless, where individuals come to study specialized fields of science, literature, etcetera... I often rely on volunteers among these students to help maintain the property alongside our current gardener." she says, leaning back in her chair, "Our gardener is a diligent, hardworking fellow, but he oftentimes bites off more than he can chew, and he bears other responsibilities that take him away from the property for long periods of time, which makes it difficult to maintain things properly."

"...So you'd be hiring me to pick up his slack?" Bea questions, and Sister Imperator gives a little laugh and shakes her head.

"In a way, yes, but I really much prefer having someone else who's capable around when he is not, or perhaps when more than one set of hands would come in useful." she replies, "Making one person work to maintain nearly fifty acres of land would be cruel, even if a little over half of it is woodland."

"Fifty acres..." Bea tries to imagine it, but the sheer size is difficult to comprehend based on a number alone, so she tries to visualize it using a similarly large unit to help; Football fields.

As Bea sits doing the mental math of football fields to a single acre, Sister Imperator continues on explaining the details of the job.

"-Of course, I understand if you would be worried about leaving behind friends and family here in the states."

"Oh, uh..." Bea blinks back to the present at about sixteen football fields, "...No, not really."

"Oh?"

"I'm not in contact with my family, and I'm new to the area, so I don't really know anyone here." she admits easily, "I can pick up and go pretty much anywhere."

And that...

That really makes the older lady grin.

"Really... Well, I have to admit that that puts you ahead of some of the other candidates." she shuffles some papers in front of her, "...If I were to offer you the position now, how soon would you like to start?"

Bea stares.

"...As soon as possible... if p-possible?" she gives a nervous laugh.

Sister Imperator stands and rounds the table in a singular, swift motion, hand grazing the table top as she heads for the door.

Bea gives a nervous squeak when she opens it to step outside, but then the woman opens her mouth and-

"I've decided on a candidate, thank you all for your time, you are free to leave now."

The door closes again.

"Now then..." she says, gliding back around the desk and taking a seat once more.

"Let's discuss the finer details of your new job."

What.

"...What?"

Anyone with an ounce of common sense would have left that interview thinking it was shady as hell, but Bea?

Bea leaves the nunnery not thinking about much at all.

Actually, as she drifts through the door, the first thing that filters through her mind is how hungry she is.

There had been little candies on the desk during the interview, and she'd eaten one or two while waiting for Sister Imperator to come back with the necessary paperwork, and when she got caught popping a third in her mouth, the older woman had slid the bowl a little closer in a subtle, encouraging gesture.

Bea twirls one of the wrappers between her fingers.

"Maybe it's actually poison." a small part of her brain frets, but Bea just hums, thinking about what she can afford to eat that will actually be even remotely filling, "...It's sweet though."

.

.

.

Bea's never been on a plane before, and after being on one for nearly eight hours, she's come to the conclusion that she's never getting on another one ever again.

What little pride and dignity she might have had prior to boarding that wretched contraption is flung out the window as soon as she's firmly on the ground, curling into a tight ball.

If it weren't for the modicum of shame she feels -combined with a touch of nausea- she would have stayed there.

It sucks that for some things you have to experience it first to know how much it'll mess with your stomach, but, hey, now she knows.

Scrambling back to her feet, Bea parks her carryon beside herself and tugs on the coat she'd bought in anticipation of this trip; It may be decently warm inside the airport, but she can see the snow coming down outside, and she'd rather not freeze while waiting for her ride to arrive.

The ministry -the organization Sister Imperator works for...? Runs...?- had arranged to send a car to pick her up at the airport, which had been nice of them, especially seeing as Bea wouldn't know how to ask for one, let alone give the driver proper directions, because she doesn't exactly speak Swedish.

Yeah, somehow an old lady she's never met before, who possibly runs a cult, convinced Bea to travel to Sweden of all places on a whim.

Despite the obvious red flags, the prospect of being in a foreign country where she doesn't speak the language, and the voice of reason screaming at her NOT to do it; Bea did it.

She's always been this way truth be told, ever since she was a little kid, she knows she shouldn't but she does it anyway, because marching into Hell feels different than stumbling into it, even if she could have taken any other option.

At the end of the day, Bea supposes, she just wants to see what will happen.

She's the type of person who doesn't want to get involved with gossip, and yet needs to know all the details, and sometimes that requires her to get involved to some extent...

Although in this case, knowing that this could all be some ploy to drag her into something shady and illegal, the thought that echoes most prominently in her mind is...

"The worst they can do is kill me."

And in some strange way she finds comfort in that.

That, ultimately, coming here, she's accepting that as a possible outcome... and she's okay with it.

She's okay with the idea of dying.

Perhaps that's something she should be worried about.

But for now?

For now she waits for the car to take her somewhere far, far away...

Cryptid Biology Season 2: Something Special

[Previous entry in this series: Here. The ghouls participate in a time honored tradition in celebration of the summer solstice... or Dew has an encounter with Special in the woods.] Below the cut.

Dew can feel his heart beating in his chest as he runs through the darkness, ducking and weaving to avoid branches and thorn bushes that appear just inches away from him before disappearing into the black surrounding him.

He curses, feeling his muscles scream at him to slow down, to stop, but if he does, he'll get caught.

Breathing heavily, Dew stumbles over a root, but manages to keep his footing... only to trip and fall over the next one, landing upon the ground with a heavy thud that would hurt a whole heck of a lot more if not for the bed of decaying leaves on the forest floor.

He groans and attempts to scramble to his feet, but when a boot against his back keeps him from rising right away, he relents, flopping back down with an angry huff.

"First you failed to outrun me during the Imbolc hunt, then you ran into me at the one for Ostara, and don't get me started on that pathetic attempt to hide from me during Beltane... and now here we are again." the ghoul above him chuckles, eyes glowing red, face just barely visible with Dew's lackluster night vision, "I think you're getting in my way on purpose, Tadpole."

"Stop calling me that, Special, you prick..." Dew grits out, "Maybe you're the one chasing after me, huh?"

Special hums and grinds his foot down.

"Mn, no, I don't think so." he says, crouching down, "I'm not much of a hunter, you see, I've always been more of a scavenger; I take what the others leave behind, so normally I'd wait and see who's left..."

He moves to press his knee into Dew's back, applying more pressure as he leans forward to whisper into his ear, "You're too much work, so for me to catch you, either nobody wanted you this time, or you're deliberately making it easy for me, because after our first encounter, you've been aching for more..."

Special brushes the hair from his neck and presses a kiss there, "...Haven't you?"

"Shut-" Dew starts to shout, but can't as Special's jaws lock onto his nape, it stings, both from the act itself, and from the toxin dribbling into his wounds from the ghoul's mouth, "Uh-huunh..."

"There's a good boy." Special coos, licking Dew's blood from his lips, swiping his tongue over his teeth for good measure, "Feels better than when a quint fucks your mind, doesn't it? I know it does... It's such an instant relief."

His hand comes down the massage the wound, grinning as the skin heals over from his touch, while also aiding in spreading the venom faster.

"There we go..." he says, finally lifting himself from Dew's body and flipping him over onto his back, "Well, look at you~"

Dew's whole body feels flush, and his breathing has yet to settle from his mad dash through the forest, so he has to look like a sweaty mess, but Special doesn't seem to agree, reaching down to cup his cheeks with his hands, shaking his head teasingly back and forth.

"Aren't you just the sweetest thing?" he grins, then pats his face lightly, "Hm, guess we should get this show on the road then, huh?"

Dew mumbles something and raises his arms slowly, wiggling his fingers, and Special blinks at him for a moment before snorting, "Oh, poor baby, can't take your shirt off yourself? You need me to do it for you?"

"Feeeel allll... wiggly..." Dew supplies unhelpfully, giggling as Special hooks his fingers under the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head in one fluid movement, "Umph!"

"The venom's making you a little silly, isn't it?" Special squishes Dew's face again as he wads up his shirt and tucks it under his head, "That's good, you always seem so uptight..."

He spreads his fingers over his chest, thumbs poised beneath his nipples, "You know..."

"Most people come to these hunts so they can do nasty, freaky things in the woods without consequence." he says, teasing the small bud, "But you, and pardon the joke, are something special, huh?"

"You just wanna be loved.... adored, taken care of..."

Dew mewls as Special descends to nibble at his neck again, fingers rolling his nipples around in soft, slow motions.

"Are they not treating you right, sweet thing? Hm?" Special asks, "Should I talk to that water ghoul you like so much and tell him he doesn't need to be rough?"

"I like... I like rough..." Dew replies meekly, eyes shutting, "S'okay..."

Special makes a disappointed little noise and pulls back.

"You know I don't like liars, Dewdrop." he chastises, "But if that's what you want-"

Dew's eyes widen as Special's hand begins to wrap around his neck.

"Do you want this?" he asks, applying pressure to his throat, "Or do you want me to treat you like you really want?"

Dew groans and kicks his legs slightly, squirming under his grasp.

"Want-"

"Yes?"

"...Don't wanna say it..."

Special pouts.

"But I want to hear it, c'mon, baby, when you're with me, what's your name, huh? How do I treat you?"

"Pri..."

"Yes~?"

"You're a prick." Dew cackles, and Special sits back, rolling his eyes.

"You may be easy to catch, but you're hard to break, I'll give you that." He sighs, "But I'll be damned again if I don't love picking you apart."

"Hehe~"

The multi-ghoul slides down and begins undoing Dew's pants, but the zipper refuses to open and he gives a frustrated noise.

"Just pull 'em off..." Dew says, struggling to move his legs around from under Special's body.

"I have a better idea-" The ghoul tugs Dew's pants down to about mid thigh and leaves them like that, the dense, folded over fabric restricting his movements, "-that's much better."

Dew wriggles, trying to slide them down further, but he can't get the leverage and gives a defeated hiss.

"I could just..." Special pushes his legs back towards his chest, "Yeah, I can work with this."

"H-Hey now-"

Special cranes his neck at him, "What? Suddenly you're embarr-Oh. Oh-ho-ho-ho~"

Dew's ears have flicked back, the tips almost as red as his face.

"What do you think? Should I take you like this, or perhaps I should lay you on your side? What is my princess thinking now, hm~?"

"Just-"

A stick snaps and Dew goes stone stiff, whereas Special lowers himself over his body, territorial, a growl emanating from his throat, wholly unexpected from such a usually jovial, prankster type like him.

What or whoever was approaching seems to get the hint and approaches no further, but the ghoul above him remains locked in his protective stance, glaring out into the darkness.

After a minute passes, Dew can finally hear the sound of retreating footsteps, and not even a second later, he feels something prodding at his entrance, causing him to tense and squeak.

"How annoying..." Special mutters, hastily working Dew open, not giving him any time to adjust, forcing a series of involuntary chatters and chirps to escape his mouth, "We'll have to rush things a bit now, I'm sorry."

"Who was-" Dew tries to lift himself up to look around, but Special pushes him back down, "Hey-"

Special clicks his tongue.

"Humans."

Dew furrows his brow.

"The siblings-"

"Not them." Special hisses, then tilts his head back, letting out an annoyed groan, "Dammit..."

"Then who? The gardener-"

"Outsiders."

Dew forces himself up onto his elbows, wobbling as Special helps him tug his pants back up.

"Careful now, don't want you falling down again..." Special chides, wrapping his arm around his waist as they stand, "...Fucking, of course, those bastards would sneak around on a night like this... I bet they're running back to the other side of the lake now."

"We should go after them-" Dew starts, but the second he tries to pull away from Special, his head starts swimming, "-Fuck, Phil, how much venom did you give me??"

"I wasn't expecting our little rendezvous to be interrupted by a pack of mortal morons, so I gave you a little more than last time..." he pinches his brow, "We'll have to inform the other-"

A loud cracking sound startles them both, making Dew stumble, but he is quickly captured by Special, who narrows his eyes in the direction of the noise.

"Do you think that was the trespassers or..."

A second, louder crack echoes through the woods followed by a chorus of human screams.

Dew cringes and Special begins to make a clicking sound, a common distress noise among ghouls, neither of them is sure what's going on at this point, and the lack of any other sound once a third crack sounds sounds has them both on edge, until...

"You better run, you fuckin' little shits! I have more where that came from!"

"...Bea, I think they got the point, put the bb gun down-"

...Ah.

Mountain heaves a heavy sigh, taking the gun from the gardener, who looks positively miffed, even in the lowlight cast by the lantern in the earth ghouls other hand.

"Give that back-" the hotheaded woman starts, but instead of giving her back the gun, Mountain scoops her up and jostles her around a bit before tossing her over his shoulder and lumbering back off into the forest, "YOU BITCH!"

Special and Dew watch the retreating pair in silence, looking at each other after the two are gone from sight again.

"...I'm getting too old for this..." They both sigh in unison.

"Still though, how did they get passed the barricades?" Dew wonders aloud and Special shrugs.

"They could have swam to this shore for all we know." he remarks, "It's happened before, so I expect the next budget meeting will involve putting something in place to prevent this from happening again..."

"We can't just magic some shit in place?" Dew questions, "Like with the woods along the main road?"

"People getting turned around in the woods is one thing, because they usually make their way back out, if we turn them around in the water, they could drown..." Special reasons, adjusting his grip on Dew, "...Not that they wouldn't deserve it with all the signs we have posted about these kinds of things. They've probably learned their lesson for now."

Dew hums.

"...So."

"So?"

"...Now that they're gone-"

"Yes?"

"...You know what I'm thinking?"

Special looks him up and down.

"...That we should track them down and eat their bones?"

Dew pinches the bridge of his nose.

"No, I-"

"-want to get railed within an inch of your life to make up for that frankly unnecessary distraction?"

"...You really are a prick."

"And you happen to like them very much, so it's a win-win situation for us all, isn't it?"