DAMN YOU ALL REALLY LIKED THAT LITTLE DEWTHER KIT DRABBLE HUH

Holy shit Papa 🤭

Fuck him and his magnificent back tattoo. And the open hair too. People died.....

If you have Ghost you have everything

𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘺 𝘋𝘢𝘺 𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦: 𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘈𝘪𝘥

Rating: T Pairing: Raindrop Word Count: 1.2k Murder Ghouls Ahead! (No actual murder, just the aftermath)

Mushy May brought to you by @forlorn-crows Divider by @ghuleh-recs

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. 

Rain sits back against the shower wall. Knees drawn up to his chest. Blood swirling down the drain. Not much. Most of it not even his. But it's enough. Enough that he feels the sting, worse is the bite of shame. Embarrassment. He should be better than this. He is better than this. It’s not like it’s his first hunt or anything. Not like he doesn’t know how to do this–hasn’t done it a thousand times. 

He isn’t sure what went wrong. 

His arm stings. He refocuses his gaze to watch blood leak from it. It’s not that bad–he’s had worse. Nothing like hunting in the pit. But it’s still a nasty gash down the the outer edge of his forearm. It’s still bleeding. It still hurts. 

There’s a sharp knock on his bathroom door. Rain flinches. Ignores it. He doesn’t understand why no one in this place understands what a locked door means. 

“Rain.” 

It’s Dew, voice sharp. Tipping up with worry. Rain wonders if he saw the mess he left by the late–too in shock to even finish his meal or dispose of it properly. Sloppy. He tucks his head into the circle of his arms. He had a knife. Since when do siblings carry knives? Maybe if Rain keeps ignoring him, Dew will go away. 

He knows better, of course. But he can hope. 

“Rain I know you’re in there.” 

Rain sighs. “I’m fine.”

“C’mon.” 

It isn’t like the door is the thing stopping Dew. He already picked the lock on Rain’s bedroom. And he hadn’t thought to lock the bathroom door too. He appreciates Dew giving him this space, but he also knows he isn’t going to be able to get rid of him. Dew can definitely smell the blood–the shame–the disaster wafting through the door.  

“It’s not my blood,” Rain answers. 

The door cracks open and Rain buries his head deeper into the circle of his arms, curls up tighter. Pressed into the corner of the shower like he can disappear. Then Dew’s there. Stepping into the cool spray, fully clothed. Rain hears the hiss of the water as it hits him, evaporates. The hand Dew lays on Rain’s arm is hot. 

Rain looks up at him. He doesn’t know what Dew sees in his face–but whatever it is makes the fire ghoul blanch. He watches as Dew gnaws on his lip with a crooked fang. The sight of Rain pulls at his features. Like he’s warring with relief that Rain is alright, and worry that maybe he actually isn’t. 

“Do you want to tell me about it?” 

“Not much to tell. I picked wrong.” 

It happens sometimes. Some humans appear weaker than they are. They fight back. They scratch and claw and kick and scream. Rain, and every other ghoul who hunts, has learned to accept that–expect it even. But not knives. Not knives in the hands of people who know how to use him. 

“Did they survive?” 

Rain shakes his head. 

“Then you didn’t pick wrong.” 

There’s no denying the little flashes of anger in Dew’s voice. Not at Rain–he knows that. At whoever hurt him. Dew probably wished Rain hadn’t killed him–just so he could have had the chance to do it himself. 

“Come on, let’s get you up. The water’s cold.” 

“I like the water cold.” 

“Yeah, but I don’t.” Dew pulls on him with surprisingly strength and Rain lets himself be uncoiled. Dew doesn’t stop until Rain’s standing, looking down at the fire ghoul. Water dripping from Rain’s curls onto Dew’s upturned face. 

Dew presses a soft kiss to the space over Rain’s heart. “You’re fine.” 

Rain nods. “I told you that.” 

“I know. Still had to see it for myself. And you’re still beating yourself up about it. Shit happens.” 

“He had a knife.” 

“He doesn’t have anything anymore.” Dew laces his fingers with Rain’s and reaches around him to turn off the shower. The silence that falls after feels oppressive. Rain winces. Dew frowns just a little, the corners of that delicate mouth pulling down and despite the ache, and the shame, Rain wants to smooth those worry lines away. 

“You don’t have to do any of this,” Rain says softly. Dew reaches up to tuck a drenched curl behind Rain’s ear. Rain chooses to believe he’s doing it to stop the steady stream of icy water from dripping on his cheek. 

“I want to do this. You should have come to me.” 

Rain shrugs. “Why? It’s a scratch.” 

“A lot more than a scratch,” Dew mumbles as he inspects Rain’s arm, pressing gentle fingers to swollen sides. It’s a clean cut–a sharp knife. Deep but not too bad. Not bleeding anymore. A human would need stitches, but Rain isn’t human. “You were embarrassed.” 

Rain grimaces, thinks about lying. He keeps so many people at arm's distance–it’s easier. He’s used to being alone. He spent so much time alone in the pit. But as hard as he tries to hold Dew at a distance, he can’t. Dew doesn’t let him–Rain doesn’t even really want to. Dew’s under his skin, and Rain likes him there. 

“I don’t like fucking up.” 

Dew clicks his tongue. “You didn’t fuck up. Shit happens. Let me fix it.” 

Rain allows himself to be pulled from the shower. Dew points to the closed toilet seat and Rain sits and watches do crouch down to dig into the vanity under the sink, looking for the first aid kit. Dew’s clothes are damp–the heat of him not able to protect him from all of the water. Rain hopes that after this he can get Dew out of them–that they can curl up together in bed and watch something stupid on TV and Rain can forget about everything except the way Dew’s skin feels against his. 

He’s pulled out of his reverie by a sharp sting along the cut in his arm. Dew, cleaning it with one fo those strongly scented alcohol pads that always make Rain’s head hurt. He crinkles his nose up. 

“Sorry, it’s just for a second.”

“Stinks.” “Only you would complain about the smell instead of the pain.” Dew rolls his eyes but there’s a smile there, that worried frown finally disappearing. 

“It’s gross.” 

Dew chuckles as he slathers some cream over the cut–this thankfully doesn’t smell like anything. “Don’t want you drying out, Fishy.” 

That finally makes Rain smile. He dips his head, grinning, heat flaring through his chest–adoration more than anything else. Dew catches him looking away–catches the soft violet color rising to his cheeks. 

“There you are,” he whispers. Using the hand that isn’t covered in lotion to tip Rain’s chin up so they can look at each other.  Dew dips down to kiss him, soft, chaste.  

“Here I am,” Rain whispers, nodding. 

Dew finishes the rest with deft fingers. Pressing a pad into the wound and wrapping tight gauze around it. He pats Rain’s arm lightly when he’s done, satisfied with his work. Then his face goes sober again, serious. It’s Rain’s turn to worry his lip between his teeth. 

“Don’t scare me like that again,” Dew says, pressing his forehead into Rain’s. “Promise me.” 

He doesn’t answer, he just kisses Dew again. A little longer, a little sweater. An apology. Rain can’t promise him–all he knows how to do is run away. But it’s ok–because he knows Dew will always follow, will always find  him. Will always fix him. 

swiss' big fat crush on aurora. discuss. who makes the first move. how does it go.

OOOOOH

not hcs, not a ficlet- just me talking. If this is wack, it’s cuz I wrote it in Tumblr Mobile and I’m also Intoxicated !

Swiss was there when she was summoned. He watched her crawl out of the Pit. Watched how she fought her way topside, snarling as she entered the world, and he was smitten.

He doesn’t see her for a while after that. Recovering from literally clawing your way out of the depths of hell is no easy process. In that time, Swiss develops a bit of a… fixation. Can’t stop thinking about how powerful she looked in the summoning room, how alluring. For the next little while, Swiss has a one track mind.

When will I see Aurora again?

After a couple weeks, she moves into the ghoul den, and Swiss can’t help but follow her around like a lovesick puppy. The others tease him for it, but he doesn’t care. Can’t find it in himself to stay away.

For once in his life, Swiss’s signature charm fails him. He’s dead terrified to talk to her. She’s just so pretty. He tries to approach her and just comes off as super creepy, gawking at her and tripping over his words.

She secretly thinks it’s adorable. Loves to watch him flounder. She plays hard to get just to watch him squirm, acting like she isn’t just as flustered.

He FINALLY decides to make an actual move, after much encouragement from Dew and Mountain. They even offer to help. Mountain pretties up the greenhouse, Dew cooks a fancy dinner for two, and Swiss approaches Aurora.

He barely gets the words out, shaking in his damn boots where he stands. He’s real awkward about it, blushing and stuttering, but he manages to invite her for dinner in the abbey’s greenhouse just before sunset.

She LOVES that he’s nervous. Gives her a sense of superiority in a way, knowing she’s got Swiss wrapped around her finger. He’d be so easy for her, and she’s worked up by that- more than she’d admit until later.

So that night, she walks into the greenhouse and Swiss FREEZES. Everything he wants to say absolutely gone from his mind.

She looks hell-sent in the best way possible, her hair sleek and shimmering, her horns polished to a near-reflective gleam.

She flashes him a coy smile as she approaches him. “Swiss- you look lovely. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Hwahh?”

He’s never been so damn dumbstruck in his LIFE. Can’t even greet her. It takes all of his effort to even close his mouth.

She giggles, strides right past him, and sits at the cute little table that Mountain decorated.

Swiss realizes something in that moment.

He’s fucked. In way over his head with this one. He’d let her ruin his life, no hesitation. There’s no hope for him.

And he’s going to love every second of it.

Olympia, Paris, France.  //  11/04/2017

Mushy may prompt list by the wonderful @forlorn-crows

Divider by the lovely @ghuleh-recs

(also if you haven't checked out @autumnblooms art, you should! Their Phantom/Aeon/bug is always the way I picture him in my head 🖤🖤🖤)

Day 15: painting on each other. Swiss/Aeon

Swiss sits back, glancing down at the bare expanse of Aeon's back. He's settled across the back of his thighs, the Quint stripped down to nothing, the warm spring sun peeking through the curtains, wanting a chance to taste the nighttime sky for himself.

Swiss dips his finger into the gold paint beside him, shifting his hips to reach the base of Aeon's neck, the little starburst mark that trickles down into galaxies. Swiss knows them all, has traced every single inch of him, had tasted each one.

He watches Aeon smile when he touches him, when he paints down along his spine, leaving the knobby path to the side, to trail over a light patch, to add color, his color, to Aeon's body.

Swiss bites his lip when he thinks about it, how he likes to believe Lucifer left spots blank on Aeon simply so Swiss could fill the space, so he could blend into him, to mark him as his, a claim so beautiful it belonged in a museum.

He traces his lightning, the electric storm that surges through his veins, decorates the midnight sky of Aeons back, bolts of lightning to bring out the starlight freckles. He weaves delicate trails like his smoke, little wisps to curl around and connect the constellations.

Aeon glances back over his shoulder, a little smirk pulling at his lips. "I'm chilly."

He knows he's not, knows he's burning hot but he's hungry for touch and Swiss would never deny a request from Aeon's lips. He presses forward, plants his chest against Aeon's back, the still wet paint smearing between them, two canvases making one masterpiece.

"Better?" He kisses his shoulder, tastes gold paint and lightning and starlight and Aeon.

He wiggles until Swiss let's him turn over, until they are chest to chest, neither caring about the paint on the sheets. It doesn't matter when Aeon can feel Swiss' heart against his, when he can feel each breath add a little more color to his skin. He glances down, looks along the line of the bodies pressed together, the way the paint looks on him versus how it looks on Swiss.

Colors, their colors, blended and beautiful, swirling together like the knots that weave their souls.

He smiles and kisses him, watches color flood Swiss cheeks, watches the gold of his eyes fill with fire.

"I am now."

Mushy May Day 10: Quiet Nights

A quiet night in the band ghoul den.

Much thanks to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and to @ghuleh-recs for the divider.

After dinner leftovers are put away, dishes done and dried and back in their cupboards, Aether pulls his readers out of his breast pocket and heads to the common room. Rain and Cumulus are already there, having helped Mountain cook dinner.

The common room is typically quiet, these nights. Most of the others break off into pairs or just head back to their rooms alone, but the three of them lounge out in the common room for a little while longer. Mountain and Dew slip past Aether as he makes his way, and all three of them pause in the hall.

"I'll join you two in an hour or so. You don't have to wait up for me," Aether hums, pulling Mountain down for a soft kiss, and the earth ghoul goes easily. When they break, he turns to give Dew the same loving treatment.

"We'll keep the nest warm for you, starshine," Dew says, pressing himself against Aether's side for a moment like a particularly affectionate orange cat. Aether smiles and ruffles his hair, much to Dew's faux-chagrin.

"Have fun, nova," Mountain says, patting Aether's shoulder. Aether reaches up and squeezes his hand, and he heads to the common room as his mates head off towards bed.

He finds the common room as it usually is this time of night, ceiling lights turned off, a few lamps casting warm, gold light over the room. Cumulus settles cross-legged in her favorite arm chair, her thick glasses resting on her nose as she squints at a pattern, trying to make sense of the stitch abbreviations. There's a hook tucked behind her ear, a skein of yarn in her lap. Sunny's sprawled out on her stomach on the floor, her well-loved Gameboy in hand, the volume turned down way low.

Rain's on the loveseat, tucked into the corner, a well-worn paperback from the Abbey library open in his hands. Aether takes a seat on the other side of the loveseat, reaching over to the drawer in the side table for his crossword book and a pencil.

As soon as he's settled, Rain shifts until he rests his head on one of Aether's thighs, his knees hooked over the arm of the loveseat. It's a practiced motion, and when Aether feels the weight of him against him, something deep inside of him relaxes. He flips open his crossword book to the first unanswered page, about three quarters of the way through. It will be another week or so before he needs to get a new one.

He puts his readers on, reading over the clues as he starts to work. His other hand goes down, raking blunt claws through Rain's hair. He gets a glance at the spine of his novel, recognizing the cover as something Mountain was reading a few days earlier.

They exist together quietly, the only noises the scratch of pencil on paper, soft video game music playing, Cumulus quietly counting as she keeps track of stitches.

Aeon sticks their head in, noise-canceling headphones covering their ears and a Rubix cube in their hand. "Hey, guys?" All four of the other ghouls turn to look, and Aether glances at them over his readers.

"Yeah, pup?"

"Sorry, could I join you guys?" They scuff their shoe against the floor, trying not to shy away from the unadulterated attention of the others.

"Of course," Cumulus says, waving them over. They take a seat on the floor, back against the front of Cumulus's chair. Aeon leans their head back against Cumulus's shin, playing with the toy, the colors flashing underneath their lithe fingers.

Aether settles back into the couch, working on his crossword, slyly watching Sunny's gameplay. There's no obligation to talk, no masks that need to be held up physical or mental, it's just five ghouls existing together, and it's something that Aether cherishes.

It takes him longer than it normally does to finish his puzzle. That's just because every so often, he tucks his pencil behind his ear, making sure not to catch it on his piercings, and just takes it in. This is what they've worked for. Sure, spreading the word of the Unholy Father is rewarding in its own way, but this is something else, something almost more rewarding than the work, and Aether intends to enjoy every minute of it that he can.

Once he's done, he cards his fingers through Rain's hair one more time before putting his book and pencil away. Rain chirps quietly, shifting reluctantly so Aether can stand. "Good night, angelfish," he whispers, trying not to break the peaceful silence.

Rain squeezes his hand, fighting not to yawn himself as he gets comfortable in the spot Aether's vacated.

He steps, surprisingly quietly for a ghoul of his size, over Sunny, tapping her shoulder with the spade of his tail. She hums in response, focused on her game but still wishing him good night.

Aeon gets their hair ruffled, careful not to dislodge their headphones, and he bends down to press a kiss to Cumulus's forehead. She presses up into it like a cat pleased to receive affection, even though there's no shortage of love in this pack.

Aether spares one last glance back at them before he heads up the hallway to his room, the exhaustion of the end of the day beginning to creep in on him. There's a crack of light underneath his door, and he sighs as he steps into his shared bedroom.

"I told you two you didn't have to-" He starts, cutting himself off as he takes in the sight of his mates in their nest, fast asleep even though the nightstand lamp is on. They're both on their sides, Dew curled around Mountain's back, something that almost looks humorous given their size difference.

Aether smiles, big and warm, and he pulls out his phone, even though he has hundreds of pictures just like this. He knows his mates have pictures of him like this too, and it doesn't stop him from snapping a few before setting his phone and readers down on the nightstand. He changes into a pair of sweats, tossing his day clothes in the hamper before crawling into bed behind Dew.

Mountain shifts but doesn't wake when Aether slings a big arm around his and Dew's waist, but Dew huffs a breath, craning his neck to look back at him.

"Hey, starshine," Dew whispers, voice slow and sleepy. Aether leans in and kisses his cheek.

"Hi, baby. Sorry to wake you."

Dew hums and nuzzles back against him, knocking their horns together. "S'all good," he hums. "Glad I get to say good night, though."

"Me too." Aether gives him another kiss on the cheek, reaching over him and Mountain to pull the cord on the lamp. "Good night, love."

Not me pulling up in your driveway like I live there, listening to my favorite Swedish satanic band, bringing you your Doordash order.

So probably not a loved idea, but I kinda want fanfics of The Manager ☝️ just cos I think it'd be funny and am curious as to how people would write him...

Like, he is his own character and just manages the band but with seestor's input.