When It All Burns Down

This is some funny shit. Like, did you just randomly decide to go a Ghost concert not knowing who they were?

𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘺 𝘋𝘢𝘺 𝘛𝘦𝘯: 𝘘𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴

Rating: G Pairing: Mountain/Aether with brief appearances by Dew and Rain. Words: 750ish Using this one as an excuse to talk about the abbey library (since I wrote this while at the library it seems fitting). Mushy May brought to you by @forlorn-crows Divider by @ghuleh-recs

Aether loves the library after dark. When it’s been deserted by the day staff. Lights turned low. Doors left closed, but unlocked. He lets himself in after long shifts at the infirmary and wanders the stacks. It’s a way to decompress. Not that there is that much stress at the infirmary these days. Mostly he deals with colds, flus, sprains, stitches, the occasional baby. There was a time when trauma seemed to live in those walls. Where he would go in knowing he’d come home bloody. 

But lately, things have calmed down. Evened out. He likes it. He likes the abbey quiet and stable. He knows it won’t last forever–can’t. That something will happen, another power shift, and the whole place will turn itself upside down again. 

He’ll haunt the library then too.

He walks the whole library before he even thinks about a book. Weaving in between the tall shelves. Climbing the narrow stairs to the fiction section, lofted above stacks and stacks and stacks of history texts and dusty books about summonings. 

He looks down over the library, it’s dark wood, and vaulted ceilings, and plush victorian era couches. He turns and plunges deeper into the stacks. Dragging his fingers over the spines of new fantasy books preferred by Rain, and the romances Cumulus and Sunshine read voraciously. He browses Dew’s horror section–in case there’s something new he should bring home to the fire ghoul. Glances at the young adult section that Aurora has devoured since she got here. 

He snags a historical fiction for himself, and presses onward into the darkness. There’s a nook, Dew found it years ago, tucked away behind this section. A set of winding stairs hidden behind a wall panel. Aether touches two fingers to the section of wall and it clicks, and pops out, swinging on invisible hinges. 

He steps into the stairwell and tugs it closed behind him. There’s light coming from above. The faint glow of the fairy lights he and Cirrus hung right after Dew found this spot. He follows that glow up the steep stairs and emerges into a small comfortable room. More of an attic than anything else–but transformed into something cozy. There’s a big window in the gable, flooding the room with moonlight. It’s warm and quiet, and not empty. 

Mountain’s seated on one of the many floor pillows. A blanket curled up around his shoulders, back to the wall, horns just barely brushing the peaked ceiling. He’s fully absorbed in a book that Aether recognizes as one of Rain’s favorites. Not a usual pick for the earth ghoul. 

Mountain looks up at him as Aether gets closer. He smiles, it’s warm and sleepy. He pats the pillow next to him. 

“Did you just get off work?” 

Aether nods, dropping down next to Mountain. Shifting so their thighs touch from hip to knee. 

“What are you doing up?” Aether leans his head into Mountain’s shoulder. Mountain reaches up and scratches his fingers through Aether’s hair. Soothing fingers rubbing soft circles above his ear.

“Didn’t realize what time it was–got caught up.” 

“Thought you didn’t like fiction.” 

Mountain huffs out a little laugh. “Yeah, guess I was wrong. Rain has good taste.” 

“He does,” Aether agrees. Settling in, he grabs a blanket of his own and opens his book. One he’s been meaning to read for a while.  “You hanging out for a while?” 

Aether doesn’t mind being here alone, but sometimes–especially tonight–the company sounds nice. Mountain’s ground presence sets him at ease like nothing else, he wants to drown in it. 

Mountain nods. “Got 100 pages left–I need to finish it. And then there’s the sequel.” Mountain holds up another thick paperback. 

Aether smiles, he leans his head a little deeper into Mountain’s shoulder and cracks his book. They fall into companionable silence, soft breathing turning into subtle purrs as the night wears on and the moon sets. 

In the morning, when Dew comes looking for them–he finds them curled up together. Books drooping from their hands. Covered in the same blanket, heads tilted together. The room filled with soft snores.  He takes a picture before he retreats. Sending it to Rain who’s out searching the greenhouse for signs of Mountain.

Found them he sends with the picture.

Adorable Rain responds seconds later.

Dew smiles at the sleeping ghouls in front of them, then turns away. He pads quietly down the stairs and closes the door softly behind him, and goes to finish making breakfast. They’ll emerge when they’re ready–but until then, Dew is more than happy to let them rest–they deserve it.

Sometimes I feel that someone should do a welfare check on that guitar

it’s not even 8am why must you do this

Come morning, yet still, one brother searched for the other in vain and all the while the thread of the spider stretched thinner and thinner.

Spider's Thread

(Pssst, hey- truth or dare)

Let's add some more tat photos.

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

How in the actual fuck did that happen? Why?

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.” 

I have this urge to sit him down and brush out that hair

Cos we don't get enough Per on ghumblr

their combined powers were too great. he never stood a chance. rip king.