Let's not forget how they scream that everyone is a pedophile.
We need to talk about christians playing the victim and crying wolf when they see marginalized people who portray themselves as satan, satanic, or demonic.
I see videos on tiktok of christians going on paranoid rants about satan infiltrating society and the entertainment industry "being evil" when its clearly a reaction of marginalized queer people and poc who are using their spotlight to make christians uncomfortable for their bigotry.
"They're letting the evil one take over their lives! Satan has taken them over!"
No, actually, you did this. It's your fault as a christian. No, seriously. You made them feel evil for just existing. In the idea of your ignorant beliefs, your "god" made them perfect - as we all are - and you saw someone different from yourself and went "thats satan." You ruined their self-image as a community of poisonous bigots. You made them suicidal and depressed and institutionalized them for being different until it literally became illegal to do so.
And if you participate in christianity, you're part of the problem, and yes, you deserve to feel bad about the way these people get treated. If you don't want to feel bad anymore, reform your beliefs and take a good hard look at what your religion does to people it doesn't approve of. If you don't want to do that, just be mad and scared - we don't care.
God forbid you accept the fact that, yes, it was you who did this to them and not "satan." God forbid they accept the way you treat them instead of killing themselves like millions of others have. God forbid you have to share the earth with those you tred on.
God is not real and neither is satan and if you demonize your fellow man it takes away from every human being's personal responsibility to treat every other living creature on this planet as an equal and instead it lets you slap a label on whoever and whatever you dont like so you can decide who deserves to die without feeling bad about it.
People you dislike aren't satanic. They just shrugged and put on the costume YOU forced onto them from birth.
Is it scary? Yes. Is that the point? Also yes. Be afraid.
Boo, bitch.
WC: 340
Relationship: Dewdrop/Rain
Read under the cut or on AO3.
What is now their little custom had started out very differently; with Rain idly running his cold fingertips over Dewdrop’s bare back one night—both of them as relaxed as a ghoul can be.
The water ghoul traced invisible shapes on his mate’s warm skin, pressing a claw to it now and then to watch it redden. Rain didn’t know why he loved doing that so much, but he did, and Dewdrop loved indulging him.
“What’s that?” Rain asked him once, and it evolved into a guessing game that would end with an ‘I love you’ written on Dewdrop’s back and finished off with a kiss to the nape of his neck every single time.
Years later, it’s barely the same.
Rain hums as he dips the tip of a thin brush into a little vial filled with black paint. He looks over his canvas—planning. The fire ghoul lays under him half asleep, waiting for the gentle touches of his mate’s brush on his skin to lull him into it fully.
Rain goes with his gut. He puts his brush down just under the back of Dewdrop’s ear and watches it twitch before sliding down over his neck, shoulder blades, spine, lover back—leaving a simple, but beautiful swirl in his wake. He pauses next to the base of the fire ghoul’s tail, nearly wrapping the paint around it.
He goes back up and makes the long line branch out into more swirls until Dewdrop looks as if he’s been covered by vines. Rain picks up color, then, and makes it all look real as his mate sleeps.
The water ghoul loves seeing his art on something else he considers an artwork, loves having Dewdrop all to himself, loves having his trust and permission for marking him. Whether it’s just paint or bite and claw marks or cum or whatever else the water ghoul would want to cover him in.
He always tells Rain that he must settle on a design—he wants it tattooed, carved into his skin forever.
Mushy May 2024
Rating: G
Pairing: Cumulus & Rain
Words: 591
Thank you to @forlorn-crows for organizing the event once again ♡
Divider by @ghuleh-recs
There’s a high chance the loud noises and faint smell of bacon coming from the kitchen is purposefully trying to tempt somebody out, but Cumulus has been tossing and turning so long that she really doesn’t care. It only takes about 20 seconds before she’s throwing on a robe and slippers and setting down the hall in search of a distraction.
There’s a faint discontent noise from down the hall that she immediately clocks as belonging to Rain, bringing a soft smile to her face. It is so rare that she gets time alone with the water ghoul, the two of them often getting snagged by somebody else. This chance for the two of them to hang out alone is beyond overdue.
Before heading to bed she had noticed how beautiful the moon was shining on the lake, streaks of captivating pale blue light rippling with the shifting surface of the water. It had almost convinced her to head down, so it makes sense that Rain ended up there. Odds are he got carried away and only wandered back in.
As she rounds the corner to the kitchen, she can’t help but take a moment to appreciate the darling look of concentration on Rain’s face as he carefully pours batter onto a griddle in slow deliberate shapes.
“3am seems a bit early for breakfast” she teases, hopping up to sit on the counter opposite the griddle.
“It’s not so much early for breakfast, but late for dinner really. Got caught up at the bottom of the lake enjoying the moonlight, when I realized I was starving. Nobody else was up, but I had a feeling the extras wouldn’t go to waste” he yawns out in response, flipping a pancake onto the empty plate next to Cumulus.
“Hmmm you have always been perfect tempting, and I am here now so it’s a fair assumption.”
Cumulus smiles at the heart shaped pancake before picking it up, ripping it and handing one half to the water ghoul. She takes a quick moment to reunite the heart in a cheers motion and pops the treat into her mouth.
“Mmmm, it might be the late hour but that’s beyond amazing”
“Sunny and I have been working on incorporating fruit puree into the batter” Rain beams, sighing contently as he eats his own half.
“Mmm I love that y’all found an excuse to do something together that doesn’t end in tracking water everywhere”
Rain attempts to fake looking hurt at the insinuation that Sunshine and him are anything but well behaved, but it only lasts about 3 seconds before he dissolves into giggles.
“Yeah alright, well maybe you and I will have to scheme up some trouble to make up for it.” he lilts, following the air ghoulettes eyeline to the bacon beside him and handing her a piece.
The two go back and forth trading jokes and enjoying the alone time as Rain finishes up cooking. Eventually they hear a telltale groan of Mountain stretching as he shambles down the hallway to start his early day and make sure to leave the plates of food where he will see them.
They quietly scamper off to the patio to leave him to his routine, and make plans to meet up for some less elaborate late night snack and overall shenanigans on a semi-regular basis.
The next time the moon gets that particular irresistible shine to it Cumulus knows she’ll get alone time with her favorite water ghoul once again. This time she doesn’t even attempt to sleep, knowing the anticipation would keep her up anyways.
Mushy May Day 22: Reminiscing
Mountain wakes in the middle of the night and watches his mates sleep.
Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and to @ghuleh-recs for making the dividers <3
Another alternate prompt for today!
Mountain can't sleep. It's strange. He's normally the first of the three of them out, snoring gently before his partners have even closed their eyes. Normally sleeps through the night without fail. But despite being awake, he cherishes it, the room dark, barring the silver moonlight that slips through their curtains, just enough to see by.
He turns in Dew's arms, slowly, carefully, not to wake him. But if Dew can sleep through Aether's snoring, rattling in his chest like a chainsaw, Dew can sleep through anything. The fire ghoul's expression is peaceful, eyes gently closed and moving under lids, dreaming. The furrow between his brows is smoothed over, and Mountain can't help himself from brushing a strand of spun gold hair back behind the point of his ear.
It moves his hair off of his neck, and it's just barely bright enough to make out the silvery, parallel scars that line the sides of Dew's throat. Mountain exhales through his nose, unable to resist bringing his fingertip down, tracing featherlight over one of the long cauterized scars.
Dew's ear twitches, piercings jingling, and Mountain pulls his hand back. He stirs, but doesn't wake, mumbling something nonsensical. Mountain's lips quirk up, just staring fondly at his smaller mate. He remembers when those scars were fluttering teal fins, when the spun gold hair was silver.
It makes something pang deep in his heart, the remembering. When things were unimaginably bad, when the three of them clung to each other like fresh, new kits too scared to leave the nest. Scents changing, sea salt to campfire.Terrified, unsafe, paranoid of every shadow.
Things are better now, the band den full of pack again, ghouls that Mountain loves with everything he has. And he has Aether and Dew, peacefully asleep in their shared nest.
He smiles, moving to settle back down. There's a hand curling around his bicep, and he jolts, Aether's eyes glowing amethyst in the dim light as they meet Mountain's.
"Everything okay, nova?" Aether whispers, voice gruff with sleep. "I knew you woke up early for the greenhouse, but I didn't think it was this early yet." The joke is light in his tone, thumb smoothing over his freckled skin, right on his farmer's tan line.
Mountain snorts quietly, kicking into a rumbling purr. "I dunno why I'm up, sorry for waking you."
Aether shrugs with one arm, the other pillowed under Dew's head. "You didn't, not really, just sort of... felt your emotions. More intense than they usually are this late."
"I was just thinking," he says, eyes drifting down to their mate between them. The grip on his arm tightens, Aether's thumb still rubbing in an arc over his bicep.
"We're okay, we made it," Aether whispers, and Mountain nods.
"I know, this is real."
"We earned it, we earned our rest," he says, eyes half-lidded with sleep but still so kind and warm, the magick swirling in his irises like galaxies.
"If we earned our rest, can we please fucking sleep?" Dew mumbles groggily, shifting between them with an adorable pout on his lips.
"Sorry, firefly," Mountain whispers, leaning down to press a kiss on his mate's forehead, letting Dew pull him closer. Their legs tangle together, and Mountain can feel Dew's pulse where their chests are pressed together, remembers how feathery and frantic it was back then, just how much terror tinged their scents. It was so bad they had to get new sheets.
Dew's expression softens, wrapping his arms around Mountain's torso, squeezing him that much tighter. "You okay, junie?" His voice is soft, sweet, the way he speaks to them versus the way he speaks to the rest of the pack.
Mountain nods, a soft keen slipping past his lips as he ducks down again and nuzzles into the crown of Dew's head, avoiding the sharp point of his little obsidian horns. "I love you two," he whispers, eyes darting from Dew's to Aether's and back. "So much. I don't know what to do with it all, I love you so much."
He can see the way Aether's cheek dimples as he smiles fondly over Dew's shoulder, can feel the way Dew's grip around his middle tightens. "Love you too, junie," Dew whispers, breath infernally hot against the shell of Mountain's ear.
Aether's hand squeezes his bicep in three quick pulses. "Love you too, sweet thing. Don't know what I'd do without the two of you."
Dew cranes his neck, peering over his shoulder at him. "You won't have to find out, swear it on our Father Below," he declares, a stubbornness set in his shoulders, and Aether leans down and kisses him. He turns, leaning over Dew's narrow shoulders to kiss Mountain too, tasting the beeswax of his lipbalm.
"Alright," Dew huffs, pulling the two of them back down to the mattress. "I love you two dearly, but can we please sleep?"
"Anything for my darlings," Aether hums, wrapping his arms around the two of them, hauling them closer to him. "Good night."
Dew hums, satisfied, copper eyes shutting as he snuggles between them. Very quickly, Mountain's the only one still awake. He looks at his mates, feels their body heat burning warm. He settles into the nest, breathing in their oh-so familiar scents, and lets that carry him back to sleep.
Marge the Cleaning Lady tells the others what she saw.
(Part of the Light a Candle 'verse)
It was too crowded, too noisy, and too smoky for his taste. He couldn’t even remember why he agreed to this in the first place, especially since there were more pressing matters on his mind at the moment. Oh, right, band obligations and all that. The ever-present fans. Granted, it is not nearly as crazy as it was back in the heyday, but still, the ever-pressing crush of the devoted was enough to wear thin on the patience of even the most unflappable. Sometimes he would like to just be able to walk into a bar and order a pint and be able to enjoy it in peace. ‘Yeah right,’ he thought to himself, ‘those days are long gone.’
Scanning the room as he raised the glass to his lips, he only half listened to the conversation droning on around him. There. There she was. She pushed a long strand of chestnut hair behind her ear as she leaned in to better hear the conversation of the person with her. Whatever they were talking about must have been amusing for a smile lit up her features. Taking another drink, he continued to watch the woman.
Emma had the distinct feeling of being watched, even in the crowded room. She finished up her conversation with the keyboard player and moved off. She could still feel his eyes on her as she made her way to the bar. She leaned back against the bar, sipping on the glass of wine she had ordered. He was still watching her. His dark brown eyes never left her face even as he raised his glass to his lips. The ring on his finger caught her attention and a wicked smile broke across her face.
Roger had just raised his glass to his lips when the woman across the room said something to him.
“I’m not wearing any underclothes,” silently she mouthed to him from across the room.
Emma knew actually what she was doing. She knew that years behind the drum kit had allowed him to read her lips and to ‘hear’ her as if she was standing next to him. She raised an eyebrow and waited for his response.
Roger choked on the drink he just took.
“Hey, man! You alright?” John asked as he pounded Roger on the back in an attempt to help his friend.
“I’d be better if you would stop beating on me,” he replied. “Excuse me. I have something to attend to.”
“Yeah, sure man. Whatever.” The words were said to Roger’s retreating back. John just shook his head and turned back to the conversation at hand.
He met her halfway across the room.
“You are a very naughty girl.”
“Do you really care?” She asked as she leaned in, her lips against his ear. “How long do you think it would be before they noticed we were missing?” She whispered before he felt the pointed tip of her tongue delicately tracing the outline of his ear.
Roger pulled back and searched her face. He was surprised at this turn of events for Emma was not one really big on public displays.
“Well, how long?” She asked again.
He looked at her, a smile crossing his face.
“Long enough,” he replied, taking her hand and leading her from the bar. He didn’t even acknowledge Simon when the other man tried to gain their attention.
“Wonder where they are in a rush to.”
“Simon leave them be. They are still newlywed. You remember what that was like, don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah baby,” Simon answered his wife, his eyes glazing over at the thought.
**~~**
The taxi ride back to the hotel was the longest one in Roger’s life. It was all he could do to keep from throwing her down on the seat and having his way with her. ‘Be a hell of a show for the cab driver,’ he thought as his hand slowly inched its way up her leg. He was determined to see if what she had said at the bar was true or not. He leaned in and she felt his feathery kisses along her collarbone.
“Stop,” she moaned as his calloused fingers blazed a trail toward her center. “Roger, stop.” She gasped as she felt his warm tongue on her neck.
“Why?”
“We do have an audience,” she said breathlessly, motioning towards the cab driver.
“What?”
“Cab driver.”
Roger’s head popped up from where he had been tracing his initials on the soft skin of her neck. “Damn, forgot about him for a moment.”
Roger caught the gaze of the cabbie in the rearview mirror. It was clear by the smirk on the driver’s face that he had not missed much of what had been going on in the back seat of his ride.
The couple was saved from any further embarrassment as they finally reached their destination. Roger thrust a handful of bills at the cabbie, not caring that he had just paid the man what equaled to several fares. The driver counted the money as the couple raced up the steps to the hotel and shook his head as they disappeared through the revolving doors.
“Ah, to be in love,” he said as he put the yellow car into drive and merged back into the oncoming traffic.
**~~**
Marge had worked for the hotel for well over forty years and had thought she had seen it all. That was until she rounded the corner on the sixteenth floor. There, against the doorway to one of the rooms was a couple so tightly pressed together that one could not tell who was who. The man looked old enough to know better and the woman looked young enough not to care. As she cleared her throat, the man dropped the woman’s leg he had been holding against him. The woman only squeaked out “Roger!” as she hid her flaming face against the lapel of the man’s jacket, and he had the audacity to grin at Marge as he reached around his companion and unlocked the door. The door shut with a quiet click, blocking the two lovers from further prying eyes.
“Why, I’ve never seen such,” the housekeeper recounted to her friends around the break room table. “And to top it off…as I passed that room, there was a thump against the door and I could hear giggles coming from the other side of that door. Shameless, I tell you.”
Marge’s co-workers could only gossip over their coffee and cigarettes. At least this job was never boring…
Mushy May Day 31: Looking at/Taking Pictures
The fridge in the den kitchen tells a lot of stories.
Thank you so so so much to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together again this year, and to @ghuleh-recs for making us the dividers. Love you guys, cannot thank you enough. I had so much fun doing this again <3
Arguably, the kitchen is the central point in the entire ghoul den. It seems like someone's always there, cooking or cleaning or making a snack, coming in from the gardens or slipping out to have a smoke.
So naturally, it makes sense that the fridge is the pack corkboard. Magnets from just every stop the band's ever made cover the stainless steel, holding up shopping lists, reminders on bright colored sticky notes, a calendar, but most frequently, photos. Polaroids and glossy film and printed out on paper, the kitchen fridge is an amalgamation of the big moments and the little ones.
There's one right next to the freezer handle, a little blurry, out of focus. It shows the inside of the band tourbus, a soft purple blanket covering two sleeping forms. It's dark, but if you look close enough, you can make out Dew's spindly fingers, arm wrapped tight around Aeon's waist as he big spoons them. Rain had taken it, the first night they had shared a bunk, early into Aeon's first tour. It makes the little quint blush every time they see it, but the way their tail wags betrays any semblance of embarrassment.
There's one in the center of the fridge, a polaroid film, the flash bright and a little over exposed, two ghouls with their backs to the camera. Aurora is easily recognizable, her hot pink hair covering the bottom quarter of the image. Dew's in the background, sitting in Mountain's lap, a little out of focus as he throws up an As Above gesture. Rain's the star of the show though, his blue black waves pulled back into two French braids, decorated with clips and baubles and ribbons. Dew's hair is in a similar state. There's a caption written in Aether's blocky handwriting below it that reads "Playing Barbies."
A glossy 4 by 6 print is stuck to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a palm tree, from Cirrus's disposable camera. It's summertime at the Abbey, taken from the edge of the dock. Mist's perched on Alpha's shoulders, successfully shoving Dew from Swiss's shoulders in a game of chicken fight. She'd taken it at the perfect moment of realization, Dew's eyes wide in panic just as he tips backwards. They had all laughed when she had gotten the print developed, even as Dew grumbled. He couldn't hide the fond look on his face when it had been pinned up, though.
On the side of the fridge is a picture of Omega and Terzo, the big ghoul sprawled out in an armchair during one of the pack's frequent movie nights, Terzo practically in his lap, smudging paint against the side of Omega's neck. They both had passed out within the first half hour of a particularly loud action movie, much to the snickers of the pack.
There are several from the road, new scenery and places and tourist stops, a polaroid of Aurora proudly holding up a soft drink that's almost the size of her torso captioned "Baby's First Big Gulp." One of Aeon sticking their face through a cut out that makes them look like a video game character in some mall. Swiss giving Dew bunny ears while the fire ghoul takes a picture with Rain and Mountain. Cumulus floating on a blow up raft smuggled into a hotel pool. All three of the ghoulettes squeezed onto a greenroom couch in a way that cannot possibly be comfortable but they had sworn up and down that it was.
There are close to two dozen pictures with a similar set up, the entire band and crew all lined up on stage after the last show of a tour. The lineup changes and shifts, familiar faces running through several photographs, looking bone-deep exhausted but with grins on their faces, satisfied with a job well-done.
Aether approaches the fridge, a photo in hand, searching for an empty magnet. He finds one, chuckling as he grabs one shaped like a bat but in a hot pink plastic, pinning the picture front and center. It shows Aeon and Aurora, both ghouls grinning, wearing cheap plastic party hats, the elastic hooked under their chins. There's a cake on the table in front of them, a sparkler candle lit in the middle. There's words frosted on it, in red frosting in Mountain's loopy handwriting that proudly display "Happy First Summoning Day."
He sighs, smiling at the picture of his newest packmates, before his eyes drift up to a picture pinned to the top corner of the fridge. Aether always looks to it when he's in here, feels a warmth settle in his heart as he takes in the picture. He's memorized it, it will be seared into the back of his eyelids for the rest of his time Up Top and long after that.
It's him and Dew, standing at the front of the chapel, grasping each other's forearms as Copia wraps a multi colored cord around their wrists, the fondest smiles on each of their faces. The cord was a four stranded braid of ribbon, he remembers, purple and black and blue and orange. He remembers the warmth of Dew's hand on his arm, the glint of the gold jewelry in his ears, hair soft and falling over his shoulders, every inch the ghoul he had fallen in love with the moment he had arrived Up Top.
Aether smiles, running a finger along the edge of the photograph reverently, reaching up for the bunch of bananas on the top of the fridge, breaking one off and going to rejoin the pack with his snack.
We are not doing this, okay?
Some of yall needed to hear this
Credits to @/mattxiv on Instagram
Taking a deep breath and counting backwards from ten
Ghost Live @ Strasbourg
Photo: Alva IG: @shameless_ghoul
The Nameless Ghouls Official Ghost Cult.
#TNGofficial #13thAnniversary
(totally copy and pasted that from the book of faces