This Is The Scariest Thing I've Seen Today

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. 

Okay, the Carhartt coat thing. Here we go @autumnblooms , some soft squishy thoughts for you ft. Water Dew and Mountain.

Ft. some flower language.

Red roses meaning love and passion

Cyclamen meaning lasting feelings and sincere affection

Cocoa With Chili

Dew steps out of the Abbey doors and squints into the light. It's winter, and there's a crystalline quality in the way that the sun filters through the frost dancing in the air. Dew grips the mug in his hand closer to his chest, trying to absorb a bit of its warmth and hunching his shoulders forward into his coat. Ice crunches under his boots as he makes his way to the heavy wooden door across the courtyard that leads to outside the ancient stone walls.

Dew ducks under the dormant ivy and through the door, ears twitching at the sound of an axe ringing through the air. The smell of balsam reaches his nose and he smiles, tail swishing as he walks quicker towards the source of the sound and smell coming the edge of the forest.

As he draws closer to the treeline he sees Mountain with his back turned to him. The Earth giant is crouched close to the ground, clearing snow away from a great Spruce tree. Its magnificent, the ends of its branches sparkle with diamond-like drops of ice, frost coating the pinecones dangling off the tips of its boughs, sparkling with frost like a coating of glitter. It will be a beautiful Yule tree once Mountain brings it into the Great Hall of the Abbey.

Dew trills, and Mountain turns at the sudden noise, smiling broadly at the sight of the approaching Water ghoul. He pushes the hood of his Carhartt coat back from his head and straightens, approaching Dew.

"Hi, Droplet, whatcha got there?"

Dew withdraws the mug from his jacket, offering it to the taller ghoul, "I brought you some cocoa, prepared with spices and a tiny bit of chili, just the way you like it."

Mountain takes the covered mug from Dew's tiny hand, taking a sip. Warmth and comfort blooms in his stomach, and he purrs at the taste of the spiced chocolate, his favorite. He looks down at Dew, who's trying not to show that he's shivering now with the absence of the mug's warmth. Mountain sets the mug down on a nearby stump. He unzips his jacket, opening it in offering to the Water ghoul.

Dew chirps and leaps forward, wrapping his arms around Mountain's waist and burrowing his face into the Earth ghoul's solid chest. Mountain puts his hands in the pockets of his Carhartt coat and wraps the fleece and canvas around his partner. A purr kicks up in Dew's chest and Mountain chuckles as he squeezes the Water ghoul close to his body, a rumbling purr vibrating through his chest and into Dew's body.

"Your cocoa is gonna get cold," Dew mumbles from within the cocoon of canvas and fleece.

"It's okay, Water Lilly, you're the more important priority right now," Mountain laughs, squirming a bit as Dew rubs his nose into Mountain's underlayer.

After a short time, Dew emerges from Mountain's embrace. His face scrunches and he twitches his nose at the dusting of snow flitting down from the trees around them.

"Come sit and have some of that cocoa while I finish here. It shouldn't be too much longer," Mountain shucks off his coat, spreading it canvas side down on the stump for Dew to sit on, and places the steaming mug in his hand.

A few last good thwacks of the ax brings the Yule tree down to the ground. As Mountain sets the ax down and wipes his hands off on his work pants, he glances over his shoulder and his heart stops at the sight behind him. Dew had taken his Carhartt jacket off the stump and burrowed into it, the material dwarfing his tiny body and covering his legs down past his knees. His dainty hands peek from the gargantuan sleeves as he sips from the mug of spiced cocoa.

Dew watches Mountain approaching him, eyes slipping upward to the flowers that had bloomed at the base of Mountain's antlers in the the time it had taken him to cross the clearing to the Water ghoul enveloped in his massive coat.

Mountain reaches up, plucking a red rose and a Cyclamen from his antlers, offering them to Dew. He bends down and presses a soft kiss to the smaller ghoul's lips, conveying all his love and affection for his ghoul wrapped up nice and snug in his coat.

"I love you, Bug."

"I know."

Mushy May Day 14: "Shut Up, I'm Taking Care Of You"

Mountain makes Cumulus tea when she's coming down with a bug.

Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and thank you to @ghuleh-recs for making dividers for us <3

Another bonus prompt today!

It's early, sky starting to shift from black to blue, the promise of a new day. Mountain pads into the kitchen, having already been up for a while, still. There's a basket of vegetables fresh harvested from the greenhouse tucked under his arm. He heads to the sink, washing them before setting them aside to dry.

Mountain whips to face the door when he hears a hacking, wet cough behind him. He thought he was the only ghoul awake, sun just barely beginning to peek out from over the horizon, but he was wrong. As he turns, he finds Cumulus, hair tied back and deep circles under her eyes.

"Hey, hummingbird," he says cautiously, shutting off the sink. "What're you doing up so early?"

She shrugs with one shoulder, rubbing her eyes under her glasses. "Couldn't sleep." Her voice is stuffy, and she sounds miserable.

Mountain hums, taking the kettle off of its element and filling it with water. "You don't sound so good, Cue. I know you don't like tea that much, but it might make you feel better."

She mumbles something under her breath, coughing again, before sitting at the kitchen table, covering her face with her hands.

"What was that?" Mountain asks, not turning to face her as he sets the kettle to boil, digging through one of the cabinets for a specific jar of loose leaf tea, one of his own blends.

"Said you don't need to stop what you're doing to make tea, Mount. You know I prefer-" She freezes as Mountain peers over his shoulder, an emerald green eye meeting hers, eyebrow raised

"Maybe I wanted tea," he teases, grabbing mugs and the diffusers he likes to use. "No, but seriously, hummingbird, I love you. You sound like shit. Let me make you a cup."

"Mount-"

"Cumulus, shut up, I'm taking care of you," Mountain interjects, firmly but kindly. "Let me make you tea, it sounds like your throat hurts something awful."

"It does," Cumulus sighs, slumping exhausted into the kitchen chair. "I think it's why I couldn't sleep." She coughs with a wince. Mountain nods, reaching for one of the honey jars.

"I'd imagine," Mountain says, humming low in his throat in sympathy as he spoons the tea leaves and herbs into one of the diffusers. The kettle whistles, and Cumulus jolts in her chair, laughing weakly at herself for startling. Mountain takes it off of the element, pouring the boiling water into Cumulus's favorite mug and leaving it to steep.

"Now, I'm no Aether," he says, bringing the mug over to the kitchen table, setting it in front of her. "But I think breathing in the steam while it steeps might help some."

"Thank you, Mounty." Cumulus carefully takes the mug, the long sleeves of her sleep shirt pulled up over her hands as a makeshift potholder. She takes as deep a breath through her nose that her sinuses will allow, eyes flickering shut as she smells the ginger and peppermint of this particular blend.

He pours water into his own mug, his preferred green tea in his. He lets it steep, watching Cumulus fondly as she sticks her face closer to the steam. "Of course, hummingbird. Once that steeps, I'll put some honey in it. Know you like it sweet." He hipchecks her chair gently, boyishly grinning ear to ear.

"Mount," she whines, still stuffy but she's laughing, and that's all Mountain could ask for.

"Is the steam helping?" Mountain says, eyes glancing at the clock on the stove, keeping track of how long their teas have been steeping. He rummages through one of the drawers for a spoon, opening the jar of honey.

"Think so," Cumulus says. "Though it's fogging up my glasses something awful."

"Yeah, makes you look real dorky," he says, carefully taking the mug from her and pulling out the diffuser. He stirs in a large spoonful of honey and passes her the mug back.

"Mount." She laughs, blowing softly at the mug, and Mountain can feel the tingle in the base of his skull that means she's using her magick to cool it. Cumulus takes a long sip, shutting her eyes. "Thank you."

Mountain smiles a little wider as he takes a sip from his own mug. "Any time, hummingbird."

Hi moon:) hope your doing good. Can you write a little tiny dew and CG ifrit? Like dew can’t sleep and ifrit helps get him to bed?🩷

(also I’d like to be 👽 anon if that’s okay)

Short little thing, hope it's ok 🩷

Cw: Dew's nightmares

It's one of those nights, the kind that Dew can't close his eyes even for a moment without wailing, voice cracking and big tears on his red cheeks. Plagued by memories they all wish they could steal away from him.

Aether was exhausted after a long shift and Mountain was busy with Swiss down at the greenhouse, Rain was in too much pain, and Cumulus was helping Cirrus…so Ifrit stepped in.

He took the baby from a half asleep Aether, wrapping him up in his firefly blanket and promising Aether he'd watch over him. He was reluctant to leave but he could barely keep his eyes open so he relented, only after making Ifrit promise to come get him if Dew needed him.

Ifrit laughs as Aether shuffles away toward his bedroom, casting one more glance back at Dewdrop.

“Just us for a bit, huh? You gonna sleep for me or should I make a pot of coffee?” He jokes, running his fingers over Dew's fuzzy little head.

He fusses, turning his head and sniffling. He's warm and uncomfy from crying and Ifrit can tell he's exhausted but he just can't get to sleep.

“Let's go for a walk, Flacără mică.” (Little flame)

He walks him down the quiet halls of the Abbey, switching from cradling him to holding him up against his shoulder so he can pat his back when he gets fussy again.

He hums when Dew whimpers, holding his good ear close so he can hear Ifrit's heart over whatever is going on in his mind. It seems to work a bit, the haze clears from his eyes but he's still not ready to settle so Ifrit keeps walking. He'd walk the whole world if he had to.

Eventually Dew's tummy grumbles and his eyes are slowly getting too heavy for him to fight and he nuzzles closer to Ifrit's warmth. He takes the walk back slowly, rubbing the baby's back and humming softly and singing under his breath.

“În pădurea cu alune

Aveau casă doi pitici.

Vine pupăza şi spune:

Vreau să stau şi eu aici!

Pu, pu, pu, pu, pu, pu,

Vreau să stau şi eu aici!

Pu, pu, pu, pu, pu, pu,

Vreau să stau şi eu aici!” (În pădurea cu alune(In the Forest by the Hazelnuts) )

Dew blinks at him, watching his mouth as he sings, pressing his little hand to Ifrit's chest to feel it too. The big fire ghoul smiles and continues his song as they make it back home.

He sways and bounces while the bottle heats up and Dew rests against his shoulder, still fighting sleep as hard as he can.

“Ok, little one, let's get comfy.”

Dew whines in his throat but Ifrit just kisses his forehead and carries him to the comfy rocking chair, fixing his blanket before they sit and Ifrit starts to rock them slowly.

“No seep…”

He almost jumps at the unexpected little voice but he catches himself and just smiles. “Ok, no sleep.”

Ifrit knows the baby means it but he also knows sleep will win his well fought battle, his eyes are already drooping as he drinks his bottle. He jerks awake when his eyes shut and he stares at Ifrit when he opens them again, checking to make sure it's still him.

“You're safe. I'd never let anything happen to you.” And he means every word. He's wrapped around Dew's little finger and there is nothing he wouldn't do to protect him.

When he stops drinking and it's clear he's fully asleep, Ifrit tucks the bottle beside him on the chair but continues to rock and hum for a bit longer just in case the nightmares start again.

He watches him sleep, smiling when his little face stays peaceful as he strokes his cheek. Once he's sure he won't wake up, he moves to the couch, laying down carefully with Dew tucked close to his side still sound asleep.

Ifrit doesn't sleep, too focused on the baby and making sure he stays settled, making sure he knows he's safe even as he sleeps because Ifrit is there, and nothing would ever get through him.

how are we holding up ghesties

Such a cat 😺

PHANTOM OH MY GOD BABY WHAT ARE YOU DOING

MAJESTY, live. Send tweet.

Hyp! You said, so you shall receive! Ofcourse only if you want to do something with it but this lil shit has been rattling around my racoon brain for a bit. So, for you 🤲

Rain has the most delicate wrist’s. They’re not even the smallest in the pack, Aurora for example has teeny tiny, fingers overlap, kinda wrist’s.

No Rain’s are a contradiction of themselves, delicate and soft looking like precious porcelain but there’s strength in there too, there has to be because the bass is heavy.

His Ulna is very prominent and after he’s been playing for a few hours there’s a vein that curves around it, cradling the bone.

It’s also a terribly erogenous spot for him, Dew would know. He’s spent a hours staring, stroking his fingers over the delicate joints, imagining how he’d make Rain into a weepy little mess begging Dew to just do something, stop teasing.

Rains wrists drive Dew absolutely feral and Rain knows it.

Or something like that, idk. 🤷🏻‍♂️

this made my brain go empty for weeks but here i am and i bring food. loosely inspired by @miasmaghoul's fic on dewther watching the ghovie, hope u don't mind

does not contain any rhrn spoilers!!!

“Should’ve made you take the jacket off sooner,” Dewdrop whispers right into his ear with another slow stroke over delicate skin.

It’s stretched so thin over the bones of Rain’s wrist, keeping all the tendons and veins not hidden, but veiled nonetheless.

The water ghoul grits his teeth and digs his claws further into his own thigh. Well, not claws, considering he’s got them glamored—they’re surrounded by tens of unsuspecting humans, after all—but his blunt, perfectly trimmed nails. The same ones that are still flashing on the big screen right before them from time to time.

“I’d get to see those pretty wrists even more.”

Rain can do nothing but keep his head straight and his eyes glued to the screen. He should’ve known. He should’ve known his little mate would go absolutely feral seeing not just him in general in the cinema, but the close-ups of his hands. His wrists.

Why the delicate bones wrapped in fair skin were Dewdrop’s undoing, nobody’s ever learned, even though nobody could deny that every single part of Rain’s body is absolutely perfect. He carries the precisely carved out and yet so natural beauty of renaissance statues. For some reason, the fire ghoul’s favorite part of him is one of the unassuming ones and because of this his mate’s own body was conditioned to betray him every single time a reverent fingertip would be placed over that spot.

“Dew, you can’t–” Rain mutters when the music is loud enough to cover up his cracking voice. There’s nothing more he wants right now than for Dewdrop to go on and work him up and up until he tips over the edge, but they can't, they're in public. And the water ghoul knows he won’t be able to control himself if his mate carries on his teasing.

“Sure I can,” Dewdrop turns to smile at him and if Rain didn’t know better he’d call it genuine, sweet, innocent. The fire ghoul is all but that.

Dewdrop lets his glamor slip the tiniest bit, just enough for one of his nails to return to its natural state. He scrapes it over the middle one of Rain’s flexors, pressing it down just enough to leave a straight red line following the tendon. His skin is so delicate, it takes barely anything to leave a mark.

The thought makes the fire ghoul let out a growl.

Rain whines pathetically like a kicked puppy and throws his head back against the top of the cushioned cinema seat. Another clip focused solely on his own fretting hand flashes on the screen and the water ghoul wants to scream.

Instead he throws his free hand over his crotch, pressing down onto the steadily growing bulge to take some of the edge off. It doesn’t escape Dewdrop’s attention—just as the smell of the fire ghoul’s cunt in arousal doesn’t escape Rain’s.

He leans into his ear once again.

“It’s actually a wonder you’ve never tried putting your whole hand into me,” Dewdrop whispers, moving his claw up Rain’s forearm as he shakes in his seat. “We should try that later. Wanna see your wrist buried inside me while my slick is dripping down this pretty veiny forearm all the way to your elbow.”

The next noise the water ghoul lets out makes the entire auditorium turn their heads.

Rain leading the Ministry in AquaSize and finding out some of the ghouls can't swim. I'm looking at you Phantom.

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