I Have This Urge To Sit Him Down And Brush Out That Hair

Tale from the Green Room

Ever wonder what Copia has to say during the pre-Ritual Ghoul meeting? Yeah? Me too!

I feel it goes a little something like this…

The Green Room was noisy and smoky as Papa walked through the door. The Ghouls stopped their conversations as the leader of the Satanic Church cleared his throat to gain their attention.

“All right, my children, we will go on stage soon and here is what I want for tonight. Rain and Dew, I need you two to choke each other at some point. I don’t care when or who goes first, I just want to see hands around your throats at some point.”  

“Sure thing, boss!”, both Ghouls answered.

“Phantom, sweet Phantom. I’m going to need you on your best cat-like behavior. Seems the fangirls go crazy for cats. Oh, and do the bendy thing with Rain.”

Phantom raised his fingers in a mock salute as he continued his preparations for the upcoming Ritual.

“Cumulus, Cirrus, and Princess Aurora, my lovelies. Please just be your awesome self. You ladies know what you need to do.”

The Ghoulettes did not bother to answer as they knew they were awesome.

“Mountain, you are perfect in every way. I just need you to be ready to lead us into the night with your rhythms.”

The gentle giant flushed at his Papa’s praise and continued to fidget with the drumsticks in his hands.

“And last but not least, Swiss, my multi-Ghoul, during Watcher in the Sky, I need you to…”

Great, now I'm gonna be staring at every pic from now on to try and see the mesh part of the mask.

Fuck. Look at the EYES

80,000 year comet

Reverie's Ghoul Kit Masterlist

Ghoul Kits:

Calida (Dewdrop/Step-Dad Aether): (CW) Basic Stuff. , More Step-Dad! , Over the Phone. , (CW) On DVD. , (CW) Daughter? , Gender Reveal. , Sister Imperator , Learning About Her Real Father. , On a Plane.

Starshine (Dewdrop/Aether): Another Baby.

Ember, Orion, Lily (Rain/Everyone): First Day of School. , General Pregnancy Talk.

Comet (Aether/Phantom): Finding Out. , On Tour. , First Steps.

Venus (Terzo/Omega): In a Perfect World.

Age Reg: Phantom - Baby's Day Out.

Kit Dewdrop: Little Fishy Writing.

Ghoul Kit Upbringing.

Sister & Mist.

If you have Ghost you have everything

Ficlet requests, well don't mind if I do. Could you possibly gift us any thoughts on Aether and Mountain's first kiss?

oh. oh. im in my big boy feels, abs. how could you do this. ohhhh noooo. it would be so sweet i just know it. i can think of about ten different ways it could happen, but they all turn out so mushy and soft and UGH. them. they are so special to me. AND to each other.

things get a little rough from time to time for mount after the first few months topside, but leave it to aether to know just how to help <3

Mountain grunts in frustration, sending two halves of another broken stick tumbling down the riser steps. 

Fuck, he mutters, his infernal tongue slipping out. He scrubs his face with his sore hands, cursing the Dark One for fating him to play instruments. He can’t get these fills right; his simple rhythms are starting to falter, too, with the exhaustion of playing the same songs over and over and over.

He’s tired. Overwhelmed. Calluses newly formed on the palms of his hands screaming at him to stop. Zephyr had assured him—multiple times—he’s doing just fine, holding his own. But right now it sure doesn’t feel like it.

A boisterous chuckle sounds from behind the door before it opens, Aether stepping into the practice room. Mountain’s face burns with the desire to resist his perception, to go unnoticed.To sulk in private. 

“Oh! Hey, Mount; didn’t realize . . .” He takes stock of the broken drumsticks littered in front of his kit and the droop in the earth ghoul’s shoulders. “Hey,” he says softer, walking across the space. His grin turns to a concerned frown. “Everything okay?”

Mountain avoids his eyes. He makes a noncommittal noise, raising his shoulders in an unconvincing shrug. Stubborn. He knows he is. It’s not like Aether has ever given him any trouble; quite the opposite. He’s kind, jovial, gets along with everyone. Doesn’t prod Mountain to interact with the rest of the pact when he senses his need for alone time. 

He’s thankful for that in the whirlwind of the past few months. He is. Unfortunately, Mountain would rather crawl into a hole lest he burst into angry tears in front of his packmate. 

“Mount?” Aether’s voice is so gentle. He steps carefully up to his level, still keeping respectful distance. He fiddles with the rings on one hand, face equally hopeful and worried. 

“I can leave, if you wanna practice,” Mountain mumbles, avoiding the question. 

“You don’t have to do that. But. Wanna make sure you’re okay first.”

Mountain takes a shaky breath. Fighting against the shyness that threatens to make him go mute. “Just . . .” He nudges the edge of his kick pedal with his socked foot. “Hard time.”

Aether hums and nods. “Sound good though. Promise.” There’s that smile again, genuine and wide. 

A sad grin tugs at Mountain’s mouth as he nods a silent thanks. There’s a pause. A moment where the earth ghoul doesn’t know if he should say something or clumsily go back to his confidence-shattering practice session. Aether visibly brightens before he can do either.

“I’ve got something that might help, if you’d like.”

Mountain laughs pitifully. “Yeah?”

He nods, already bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Nothing crazy, I swear.” Aether’s already bounding down the steps by the end of his sentence. He walks backwards towards the door, hand outstretched to point towards Mountain. “Just stay there! I’ll be right back.” He turns and leaves the room just as quickly as he came, shutting the door behind him. Mountain can hear the thudding of his eager footsteps echo down the hall, fading away as he disappears back into the abbey. 

Mountain smiles softly to himself. Always helping, that quintessence ghoul. He pulls another drumstick from the caddy and flicks it back and forth between his hands, too curious of Aether’s plans to go back to practicing. 

He only has to wait at most ten minutes before the door’s opening again, albeit much more slowly and more creaky than before. Aether’s back emerges before the rest of him, and when he turns around, he’s brandishing two tall mugs, steam billowing out of the holes in the lidded tops.

“I’m back!” he says cheerily, as if it weren’t obvious. “Something to soothe the infernal soul.” The quintessence ghoul returns to his spot as before and holds out the mug to Mountain. A waft of orange, cinnamon, and vanilla hits his nostrils, piquing his interest and perking his droopy ears. 

“Ah, thought you might like that,” Aether lilts, handing him the mug. “Careful though, still hot.”

Mountain trills at the warmth of the mug and the warmth of the scent rising from it. The mug is thick, shielding most of the heat away from his hands while still allowing some of it to warm the ceramic evenly. He closes his eyes, sighing heavily as it starts to soothe his aching palms. 

“Rest a little bit. You deserve it.” Aether pats his shoulder. “I’m gonna tune up. Let me know if there’s anything we can work on together.”

The sound of him turning on his heel to relocate to his respective station snaps Mountain out of his momentary zen. His hand shoots out to grab Aether by the forearm, pulling him back towards himself.

“Wait,” Mountain says hastily. Aether looks at him expectantly, glancing briefly at the place his hand wraps around his arm. The earth ghoul stares back, wide-eyed and searching for something he can’t name. His heart beats once, twice, three times. And just as Aether’s about to open his mouth and breathe what, before he even really realizes what he’s doing, Mountain rises up just far enough off his stool and closes the distance between them, giving him the quickest, chastest of kisses. 

Mountain freezes just inches from Aether’s face, a classic deer in the headlights. Aether stares back, mouth slightly parted and quirked up on one side. 

“Uh.” His face heats up in embarrassment. “Thanks,” he mumbles. 

Aether just looks at him with that silly grin, eyes sparkling and the faintest lavender blush of his own coloring his cheeks. Then he clears his throat, shakes his head almost imperceptibly. 

“You’re welcome, Mount,” he says softly, a boyish smile creeping up on his handsome features.

Mountain sits back down, hand slipping off of his arm, and he wishes the pit would open up and swallow him whole right here in the middle of the practice hall.

“Hey. C’mere.” Aether grabs his free hand gently, tugging him to stand again. “How ‘bout a real one?” He grabs Mountain’s mug and sets them both on the small table the earth ghoul has behind his kit. Then, ever so carefully—oh Lucifer—Aether cradles both sides of his face in his hands and pulls Mountain in.

His eyes flutter shut at the touch of his lips, warm despite Aether’s alignment with the void. He turns his head slightly and their mouths slot together, and Mountain can’t help the quiet, happy sigh that escapes him. The quintessence ghoul smiles against his lips and hums too. Thumbs brushing along the ridges of his freckled cheekbones. 

It’s sweet and slow, close-lipped—mouths pulling apart with soft sounds just to meet again in a languid and tender little dance. Innocent, really. But that doesn’t stop Mountain’s chest from blooming with butterflies, insides going pleasantly fuzzy. Doesn’t stop his tail from thumping against the worn carpet. His hands open and close at his sides, unconsciously resisting the urge to touch. 

He thinks if he does, he won’t be able to stop. 

Mercifully, Aether pulls away before he can turn into a mushy, weak-kneed puddle. When he opens his eyes again, the quint ghoul is looking up at him with the fondest expression, hands still cupping the sides of his face. 

“Was that okay?” Aether asks. 

Mountain blinks. “Um.” He pulls away and wipes his kiss-swollen lips with the back of his hand. “I don’t . . . think I want to practice anymore,” he mutters, slightly dazed. 

Aether stares at him, a brief flash of anxiety crossing his features. It’s replaced with relief, however, after no more than two seconds of awkward silence, laughter bursting unbidden from deep in his chest when he understands what Mountain means. The beautiful sound of it reverberates off the practice room walls and makes a home in the earth ghoul’s mind as one of the best sounds he’s heard thus far in his topside life.

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. 

Seriously, look at those hands

This picture of Swiss is everything.

Earrings

You forgot something and Papa punishes you. Which Papa, you ask? That is for you to decide. Could be considered a little naughty if you give it the bombastic side eye long enough.

So silent did my love enter the room that I did not know they were there until I felt the leather blindfold slip over my eyes.

“Quiet,” was the only word said.

A gentle but firm touch on my elbow let me know that I was required to stand. Knowing what was expected of me, I put my hands before me, tongue darting over my lips as I felt the bonds tighten around my wrists.

“Too tight?”

Of course I did not answer and only shook my head in reply.

“Good. Come with me”

Obedient, I took a step forward, and immediately ran into the coffee table. I had to bite back a curse that tried to escape from my lips.

“Oh, darling. Did that hurt?”

I nodded.

“We will have to see to that later,” my love told me as they took my bound wrists and led me from the room. I followed along, secure in knowing that my love would not allow any other harm to come to me except for what was administered by their own hand. And that thought had my mind racing. What was on the agenda? Feathers? A spanking? Clamps? Other toys? And what had I done to deserve this? I tried to think what I had done or forgotten…

Forgotten?

Shit.

I know.

Earrings. My love had wanted me to wear those earrings and of course I forgot.

Double shit.

I am so gonna get it. The thought did not frighten me in the least; in fact the mere thought of ‘punishment’ had me almost breathless in anticipation. Lost in my thoughts of spankings and toys, I stumbled as we came to a stop, in what we liked to call, ‘Our Special Room’, which was really nothing more than our bed chamber.

“Stay there,” was the command given to me. For a moment I thought of moving just to test the boundaries that had yet to be set. All thoughts stilled in my mind as I felt the cool metal of a blade pressed against my cheek. I repressed a shiver as the coolness slid across my face and down my throat, with the tip coming to rest just inside my blouse.

“How fond are you of this?”

Of course, I did not answer. I’d yet to be given the leave to do so.  

“You may answer.”

“It means nothing to me.”

“What a pity. I rather like this one on you,” my beloved said as they skimmed a finger across the front of my shirt. I shuddered as I felt the warmth of their skin seeping through the silk fabric. I ceased any movement as I felt the warmth be replaced by the coolness of metal.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Papa. Please remove this from me,” I gasped as the blade circled my nipple. For a moment the coldness was replaced by the warmth of my loves sweet mouth, causing the silky fabric to cling to my skin. Trembling with excitement, I held my breath as the blade sliced through the fabric. Goosebumps raced across exposed skin as I stood uncovered to his gaze.

He gently guided me to the bed and helped me to lay face down and with arms extended, hands grasping the bed post. The soft click of the padded hand cuffs had me squirming with excitement, knowing what was to come.

“Do you know why we are here?” he asked.

“The earrings I forgot to wear to the Ritual?”

A quick slap to my backside reminded me that I had not been given permission to speak.

“Yes, the earrings and if you continue to speak out of turn, I will have to do something about that.”

It was tempting to say something just to see what he would do, but I did not.

“Now, let’s begin,” and with that he brought his hand down across my backside.

~~**~~

The Nameless Ghoul stopped by Papa’s suite; his intention was to go over a few details of the upcoming Ritual with Papa.  His hand was raised to knock on the door when his supernatural hearing caught the sound of two people engaged in their own version of a Ritual. He listened for a moment before smiling to himself. Whatever he needed to discuss could wait until some other time.