Anything Swissalps Please!!

minding my own business…

*opening a word doc*

Mushy may prompt list by the wonderful @forlorn-crows

Day 20: gardening

I was sad and this image came to me so here we are. Also the last prompt I'm doing for this one, it was fun 🖤

Mountain/Dew a touch of angst from Dew but he's ok

Dew nervously twists the toe of his shoe in the loose little pebbles of the path just outside of the greenhouse. It feels weird, like standing in front of a shell of a home he used to live in, like a ghost keeping to the shadows, hoping to not be caught so it's allowed to stay.

This used to be his favorite place, one of the first he got comfortable in after he was summoned. He couldn't count the hours he spent down here with Mountain, smiling, laughter dissolving into make outs and rosy cheeks. They are memories he doesn't think about often, his shadow in the images bleeding into Rain's shape, seeing him fit so perfectly where Dew once had.

He doesn't regret his transition but there were losses all the same. This one stings though, a nagging little papercut that persists no matter how much time passes.

He loved this place. He loved Mountain in this place, he loved how he had Mountain in this place, just the two of them.

Nothing was stopping him from going down, not really. Nothing apart from his own mind, how it flashed with flames when he thought of going in, how he worried to touch the plants he used to help nourish, terrified he'd burn their little leaves to ash. Afraid he'd do the same to Mountain.

He knew it was stupid. He'd been with Mountain countless times since the transition but there is something about the greenhouse that feels like he just....can't cross that line he drew in the sand.

"Dew?"

He jumps at Mountain's voice, so lost in his own thoughts he hadn't heard him opening the door and wandering out partially. His hands are dirty and Dew misses the grit against his skin when Mount would guide him through repotting a little sprout.

"Sorry...shit sorry I just I'm...I'm-"

"Coming in this time?" He sounds hopeful, painfully so and when Dew risks it all and meets his eyes they're bright, almost begging without words.

He glances between the giant and the glass structure behind him, the warm air inside and the dim little fairy lights inviting...

"I..."

"S'ok." Mountain smiles, just a little thing, reaching his hand out as he backs into the greenhouse.

He takes a hesitant step forward, like maybe the earth outside the entrance is boobie trapped for him. He grabs Mountain's hand with his breath and heartbeat both trapped in his throat when Mountain tugs him softly over the threshold.

It all floods back to him. The smells, the humid air, the way Mountain feels different here.

"Take your time." Mountain doesn't drop his hand but he doesn't pin him with his eyes either, focusing instead on some little bunch of flowers that still have little drops of water clinging to their delicate petals.

He thinks of Rain, thinks of his gentle touch, thinks of his own hands and how much he loved this, how Mountain would smile just for him and he would turn to face him like a little bloom chasing the sun.

"I shouldn't...I shouldn't be in here."

"Why?"

"It's just not mine anymore. I can't give them anything." He clears his throat hoping his words don't shake. "It's Rain's now."

Mountain tilts his head, his ears drooping a bit. "Do you know the very first thing Rain does every single time he's in here?"

And obviously he doesn't! He shakes his head and Mountain grabs his hand, pulling him off to plants that are thriving along one of the walls.

"He comes to these because you planted them. Out of everything in here, these are his favorite because you took care of them."

"But-"

"No but. You've never not belonged here. I understand why you stopped, why maybe it felt different but different doesn't mean wrong, it certainly never meant unwelcome."

Dew wants to turn into Mountain's chest but he doesn't, his hands shake as he lets the words sink in as his eyes stay glued to the plants he had loved so much because Mount had taught him how.

"I know the things you think about yourself Dew." He squeezes his fingers, pulls his knuckles up to kiss them. "I know what you're afraid these hands will do, but I know them. I know you."

Dew let's himself look at his hands and he knows he knows how to be gentle, how to touch with softness and care. He loves more often than he bruises but the fear still simmers just under his skin that one day he will lose control of what he is and he will be helpless to stop it.

"Come here, I want to show you something."

Dew let's Mountain lead him off, cocking his head when the giant stops in front of a bed of succulents.

"Is this your way of calling me a prick?" His lips twitch with the possibility of a smile.

Mountain laughs and shakes his head, the tension easing off his face. "No you ding dong!"

Dews glad for the distraction, the laughter between them standing here feels so familiar and he hadn't fully realized just how much he actually missed it.

"I started growing them after your transition. I...I needed something that felt like you in here, I needed something to show you..."

"Show me what?"

"That you don't need your water to be beautiful." His eyes drift from one of the little cactus flowers just starting to bloom among the spikes it sits on to Dew's eyes.

Dew lifts up onto his toes and kisses him. Mountain's big dirty hands slot against his back perfectly, fitting just right the way they always did. Hes dizzy with the memories, a welcome sort of deja vu as he melts against Mountain.

Mountain smiles when they break apart, fingers brushing Dew's hair back, cheeks pink.

"Welcome back, droplet."

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.

hiii how about size kink but make it double? Dew losing it cus Aether and Mountain can lift and hold him between them like he weighs nothing. he definitely asked for more than he can handle and it's so much he's a whimpering mess (I'm willing to offer you my first-born if they're really nice to him, almost cooing and telling him how good he is)

"Look at you," Aether purrs, mouth right up against Dew's ear. Warm breath fanning out over Dew's skin. He dips his head, mouths at the fluttering gills along Dew's throat and Dew keens.

Dew's beyond words. Brain empty. All that's left is sensation. The feeling of Mountain and Aether's counter thrusts. The way they push and pull him. His head is dipped forward onto Mountain's collar bone. Toes dangling feet off the ground as Mountain and Aether cradle him between them. Knees bracketing Mountain's hips. Two sets of strong arms holding him in place while they fuck him.

Dew can barely keep his eyes open. He's dimly aware that the desperate whimpers are his. High pitched and needy. He's begging--but he isn't sure what for. He digs his fingers into the meat of Mountain's shoulder as Aether drives his hips forward. It's a sharp thrust, one that drives the head of Aether's cock over Dew's prostate and makes him feel like he's going to black out. He's wet, dripping even. His thighs are dreched in pre and slick. Mountain's happy trail is a matted mess from where Dew's cock has been rubbing. Dew could reach down and touch himself--he doesn't have to hold on. But any intention movement feels impossible. He can only loop his arms around Mountain's neck and hold on as they both start to pick up the pace. "Taking us both so well, firefly--shit," Mountain whispers, nuzzling his face against Dew's hair. Pressing soft kisses against his temple between pleasured grunts. "So fucking tight." Dew's body feels like a livewire. An exposed nerve in the best way possible. Each thrust is an electric shock. He twitches with it. Overstimulated despite not having cum--at least he doesn't think he has. It's all so wet, and it all feels so good he's not sure he would actually know at this point. Not with the soup his brain has become. The praise barely lands. Just enough to make him trill a little. He is doing so good. He clenches down and both Mountain and Aether swear under their breath. Aether's low drawn out groan is all Dew needs to know. He's close. "Please," Dew mumbles, mouth moving over Mountain's overheated skin.

"Please what, droplet?" Aether's voice is strained. Dew can feel his fingers digging bruises into Dew's hips. He feels himself being moved now, lifted and sat back down on both cocks. Stretching him even further, driving pleasure up his spine faster and faster. Dew swallows, mouth dry, trying to find the right words in his muddled brain. Mountain makes a surprised gurgling noise when Aether starts to push and pull Dew up and down on them. Driving the heads of their cocks together. Dew wants to live inside that noise. "Words, firefly, c'mon. Tell us what you want. Anything. You can have it," Mountain prompts, voice shaking on the edges. Dew closes his eyes, tries again. "Fuckin'--shit--do it. Fill me up. Make me drip." It's Aether's turn to sound wounded. It never fails to amaze Dew how easily he can be mainuplated when that's what his partner's want. He feels helpless like that, impaled over and over again, stretched wide. Body screaming for more, for less. He could cum, one firm touch would probably do it. But god it's so much better if he waits it out. Lets them use him. He lets his head roll back onto Aether's shoulder. Head sweaty, lips swollen. Incoherent babbling falling from his mouth and both Mountain and Aether start to unravel around him. He'll be sore for days. It'll be worth it. "So fucking good for us," Aether mumbles. "So fucking good baby, you know that?" Dew nods. Of course he does. He's always good.

YouTube

66th GRAMMY Awards Premiere Ceremony

About the Recording Academy / GRAMMYs: Recording Academy is the world's leading society of musical professionals and is dedicated to celebra

Grammy Awards are approaching fast, so here's a kind reminder that metal & rock awards will be, as usual, handed out during the Premiere Ceremony, not the main event. You can watch it on YouTube linked above or live.grammy.com. YouTube should show you the starting time based on your timezone, if you open the vid in the app.

Before the show, the Grammy's website will also have a multicam stream of the red carpet arrivals, so you can keep an eye out on our favourite Swede, in case he attends.

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

Love me some murder ghouls

oh swiss and the ghoulettes definitely stalk the sisters of sin together that’s become canon in my mind after you reblogged that hunter’s moon video

Now THERE'S a fun idea.

Creepy, evil murder ghouls under the cut!

They choose her together.

She's a young thing, willowy and pale. She never sees them, but she can feel their presence. The pressure of eyes on her, making her heart race and her palms sweat.

The song is the worst part. Lilting words in a language she doesn't have a grasp of yet, too new to have it memorized. It follows her, she swears it. In the halls, on the grounds, even in her room at night. She doesn't sleep anymore. Not since her window started to rattle in the dark.

Still, she never sees them.

Never sees them sitting in the rafters of the chapel, watching her kneel and pray. They, of course, take full advantage of her obliviousness.

Swiss uses his shadows to obscure them all, and to snake down the wall. Uses them to lock the heavy wooden doors to the ornate chamber they're haunting, her one route of escape. If she heard the bolt slide, she doesn't show it.

Cumulus and Cirrus send phantom breezes to rustle her habits, sourceless wind that makes her jolt. Makes her look around with wide, baggy eyes. It's been weeks since she slept through the night.

Sunshine pulls the light from the room then, the warmth pouring through massive stained glass windows fading away. Aurora adds her own icy chill, an uncomfortable stillness settling into the air. The sister shivers, hugs her chest and heads for the door.

Swiss's shadows track her, melting into her retreating silhouette to. He can taste her fear through them, can her her racing heartbeat. Can feel her breath stutter when she pulls the door and finds it immovable.

"No," they hear her whisper, rattling the heavy iron handle, "no, no no -" She pounds the door with a closed fist, shouts for help. A fruitless effort, the ghouls know. No one will answer. No one ever does.

She tires quickly, so exhausted from weeks of torment. Of invisible eyes and shivery voices. Of little gifts left on her pillow at night - rat bones, a dead rose, photos of her in the library and the kitchens. Of the constant feeling of being watched and having no one understand. Having no one believe.

Once she sags against the door, once she looses one last whispered plea, the ghouls grin at one another in the dark.

One by one, they begin to sing.

Aurora is the one to start them off, her voice high and piercing. The first notes have their prey's shoulders going stiff. She spins in place, whipping her head around for the source of that unholy melody. Sunshine sings next, and the sister claps her hands over her ears.

"No," she says again, and oh does she sound fragile. "Please, please no -"

It's Cumulus's turn then, her rich words filling the gaps between Aurora and Sunshine. The sister slides down the door with a sob, shaking her head and tucking her knees to her chest. Rocking in place while she begs for the aural torment to stop.

If only she could be so lucky.

Cirrus rests a hand on Swiss's back, uses her power to amplify his voice, the sister flinches like she's been hit. It forces her eyes open, and just as their demonic chorus reaches its crescendo Swiss finally drops his shadowy veil. Reveals himself and his fellow hunters to their poor, vulnerable little lamb.

They descend together, floating down on an unearthly breeze, and as they reveal shining fangs and razor-sharp claws the sister can't even find it in herself to scream.

She's no more than a red stain and cracked bones once they've had their fill, bones that will be gifted to Mountain for use as fertilizer. No point in letting their leftovers go to waste.

"She was sweet," Cumulus coos, licking a stray streak of blood from her finger. "Too skinny though, I'm gonna have her in my teeth for days." She sucks at her fangs and Swiss huffs out a chuckle.

"I dunno, I kinda like the chew," he lilts, running lazy fingers through Aurora's platinum waves. Cumulus snorts.

"You're hardly a food critic," she teases. "I've seen the things you put in that mouth." Swiss responds with a lewd gesture, licking at the air through a vee of his fingers, and all it does is serve to prove the ghoulette's point.

Cumulus hums to herself as she collects the bones they've left, Swiss shifting his attention to where Sunshine and Cirrus are busy grooming each other. After a moment the little ghoulette in his lap chirps, and Swiss peers over her shoulder. He finds her turning a small bone form the sister's hand between two elegant fingers. He noses behind her ear, inhaling the scent of wintry air and fruity shampoo.

"You wanna pick the next one, Ro?"

The others glance over when he says it, Aurora herself tipping her head back to look up at the ghoul. He gives her tiny waist a squeeze, and the ghoulette smiles.

"Yeah," she trills, leaning up to nip at Swiss's throat. "I think I do."

"Aww, our baby girl is growing up so fast!" Sunshine feigns wiping a tear from her cheek. "All ready to hunt, I'm so proud!" Her words are so very playful, and with a giggle she dodges the bone Aurora chucks at her head.

Tomorrow, their game will begin anew.

𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆

just a lil something i tortured @divine-misfortune with last night after he shared this post with me and said "Now hear me out Zeph/aeth and or omega bc they won’t slow down fr a damn second "

and thus i started a doc lovingly called "zephyr/omega go to sleep ya old man"

1263 words of omega misusing quintessence in order to (lovingly i swear) force zephyr to get some rest. yes zephyr will be mad at him later. yes omega is being a lil bit of a bastard. yes i am indulging in my (our) hypnokink, just go with it.

“You’re a stubborn old thing, you know that?”

Zephyr rolls their eyes before side-eyeing the quintessence ghoul, making a face. “Care to elaborate?”

“Been spending a lot of time with those new ghoulettes. When was the last time you slept?” Omega puts a hand on the back of the leather armchair Zephyr is currently seated in, where they were, up until now, engrossed in a text about ancient languages. 

They bite their tongue against the urge to correct him on Cirrus and Cumulus’ names. “I slept last night, there’s no need for your concern.”

“Oh, last night, hm? So that wasn’t the organ I was hearing in the wee hours of the morning?”

“You are as old as this building, Omega, surely you’re aware of the noises that aged pipes make when all else is silent.” 

He tuts. “Far too melodic for old plumbing, Zeph.”

Zephyr grumbles and makes to return back to their book without replying. Omega chuckles, and suddenly his hands are resting on their shoulders, thumbs heavy over the strained tendons on the back of their neck. 

“Why don’t you let me help?”

The air ghoul grumbles again. Slots their small stack of notes along the book’s binding as a makeshift bookmark and snaps the thing shut. They place it onto the table and stare at the fire in the hearth.  

“And why should I let you?” they say to the fading embers. 

Omega hums. “Because you need your rest, you cranky ghoul.”

“I am plenty rested.”

“These knots in your shoulders say otherwise.”

Zephyr closes their eyes and sighs like an exasperated teacher. “And you claim that I am the stubborn one?”

“Come on,” Omega goads them. Telltale magick crackling to life beneath his fingertips. “Doesn’t have to be much.”

Before Zephyr can so much as think about scurrying away with their book, warm quintessence seeps into their bones, the tension held there unraveling from the inside out. Their eyelids flutter, shoulders slumping. Some undignified noise bubbles up from their throat, and they can barely catch their chin from hitting their chest as their head lolls forward. 

“You . . .” They try to protest, tongue too heavy in their mouth to form its usual elegant timbre. Their hands can’t even grip the arms of the chair anymore, cementing them into place and thwarting any chance they had of escaping Omega’s nagging. 

Said quintessence ghoul shushes him, self-satisfied and certainly not even close to genuinely comforting. “There you go. See? Knew you were tired.”

“Hn . . .’m not—”

“You are, look at that sleepy face.” Omega brushes a few strands of hair back behind their horns, their head leaning into his touch without their permission. Zephyr’s eyes are drooping, rolling with the effort of trying to keep them open. Maybe they are more tired than they thought, he didn’t give them that much magick, did he?

Omega coos at them, running his thumb along the base of their horn. “Just close your eyes,” he whispers. 

Zephyr just groans, something close to uh uh, but it doesn’t sound very disagreeing. They’re falling asleep sitting up, and his warm hand against the side of their face does nothing but drag them closer to unconsciousness. Suddenly, they don’t want to get away from him. Magick swirls all syrupy in their veins, and, really, it’s getting harder and harder to have any opinions on the situation. 

Behind them, Omega shakes his head and loops around to the front of the chair, still cradling their head as he kneels between their parted legs. The hands at their sides, having slid off the arms of the chair, twitch towards him. Zephyr watches Omega’s other hand as it comes to hold the other side of their face, eyes slow and delayed as they track its movement. 

“You’d do well to listen to me, you tired old hen,” Omega chides them. He wiggles their head a little, not unlike a chiropractor looking for sore spots. Ensuring they’re close to limp and loose. 

Zephyr just lets him. Has no choice, really. They’d call him a plethora of names later—bastard, unwelcome imp, meddling hypnotist spawn—but the thought of remembering to do so slides away like rain on glass. 

He must sense the fleeting thought behind Zephyr’s glassy eyes, because he adjusts their head again, tightening his grip almost imperceptibly. 

“None of that; you’re being so good, aren’t you? I’m only helping, aren’t I? Little bit of magick to get rid of all those pesky cobwebs between your ears. I know, you’re so tired underneath all those stubborn thoughts. Just takes a nice, kind ghoul like me to help you relax, doesn’t it?” On and on he drones, the words going in one ear and out the other, washing away their own internal monologue and replacing it with his own. They are tired, and an afternoon nap isn’t so terrible, they aren’t really busy. And Omega’s helping them. 

Definitely not using his magick in some smug, actually selfish way, rendering the normally uptight ghoul completely powerless in less than a second. No, it’s completely selfless—a show of his care and concern for Zephyr’s wellbeing. Absolutely not a vehicle to win any kind of argument, not at all. 

Their breathing is slowing now, neck nearly limp in Omega’s hands. Sinking deeper into the fuzzy embrace of sleep. 

“That’s it,” he lilts. “You’re gonna feel so much better, and I won’t even say ‘I told you so.’ How does that sound?” 

Zephyr responds with a long exhale through parted lips, left thigh twitching randomly as the pleasant numbness settles in. 

Omega smirks. “Good.” With one last push of quintessence, he tilts their head just so and watches as their eyes unfocus and fall shut, jaw dropping open with the softest noise as they drift asleep in his hands. The quiet snores follow just seconds later, Omega’s hands the only thing keeping them upright. 

He waits until he’s sure they’re asleep, warming his back against the dying flames while Zephyr slumps in their chair. Only then does he pull back the tendrils of his magick, letting it seep down towards the floorboards as slow as molasses so as not to accidentally rouse them. Thankfully, the library is empty this time of day. Nothing to interrupt the air ghoul’s much needed sleep. 

They’re lax and peaceful now, but Omega’s sure he’ll hear about it when they wake. He laughs to himself at the plethora of elegant insults that come to mind. For now, he takes satisfaction in the way Zephyr’s head lolls back against the chair with the gentlest press of his pointer finger, drool making its way out of the corner of their mouth already. 

“Cute,” the quintessence ghoul comments, smoothing out the wrinkles in his button-down. And then, as a wicked afterthought, he presses the pad of his finger to the middle of their forehead again, sneaking in a cheeky suggestion of a dream wrapped in plumes of balsam and petrichor. Snickering to himself when Zephyr whines quietly and their tail kinks up at the end. “Enjoy,” he whispers, making his exit. 

Omega knows he won’t get any thanks for that—a pity, really, considering it was quite a nice little fantasy—nor will he get any thanks for helping (forcing) Zephyr to get some rest. At the very least, he’ll get a very disgruntled and haughty air ghoul glaring at him for the remainder of the day. 

Omega’s fine with being berated for misuse of magick if it means the poor thing won’t be sleep deprived. Until then, he files away Zephyr’s reaction to it for later.

Mushy May Day 9: Warming Them Up

Rain's always eager to get in the water as soon as he can, no matter how cold it is. Dew's there to warm him back up.

Thank you again to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together <3

Divider by @ghuleh-recs <3

Dew's comfortable in bed, the lamp on the nightstand casting his room in soft gold light as the sun dips behind the horizon. It's spring, at least according to the calendar, just barely warm enough for the snow and ice to melt, revealing the budding green of life underneath.

It's still too cold for Dew's taste, but he had watched from his window all afternoon as Rain eagerly took his first swim of the year in the lake outside the Abbey. He's on his way back, and Dew knows exactly where Rain will end up.

He sighs, marking his place in the book he borrowed from Aether and setting it on the nightstand. He takes his gold wire reading glasses off and folds them, placing them on top of the well-loved paperback. He loves Rain, it had been a rocky start but he does love him now, but he does not miss the urge to get in the water at the first sign of spring.

Soon enough, the door creaks open, and Rain sticks his head in. Dew can hear the way his serrated teeth chatter from ten feet away. "Hey, D-Dewey," Rain says, long, elegant fingers curled around the doorframe.

"I've got a Rainsicle, don't I," Dew sighs endearingly, waving Rain in. "Now do you see why I made you promise last summer not to drag me out first thing after the thaw, pearl?"

Rain nods shakily, stepping into the warmth of Dew's bedroom and latching the door behind him. His hair is still soaking wet, plastered to his skin in blue-black waves, dripping down the back of what looks like Swiss's hoodie. His skin is bluer-tinged than normal, cheeks a dusky violet. "Felt nice while I was in," he shrugs.

"I bet. Stay there so you only drip in one spot." Dew stretches as he gets up out of bed. He ducks into his ensuite bathroom, digging out one of his softest towels from his closet. "Oh, and take those wet clothes off!" He calls.

"You just want to get in my pants, don't you?" Rain cackles, but there's the splat of wet fabric against the stone floor a moment later.

"I don't want you getting my bed all wet, you ass!"

"Oh, I beg to fucking differ, just the other night you wanted me to-"

"Ah! Shut it!" Dew calls, and they both burst into laughter. Dew steps out from the bathroom, towel in arm, but he doesn't go straight to the water ghoul. He heads to his dresser, pulling out a pair of sweats, boxers and a well-worn t-shirt, tossing them on the bed. Only then does he turn to face Rain, who's standing naked in a small puddle of lake water, teeth still chattering. Dew kicks up his internal fire, shaking his head fondly as he holds out the towel. "C'mere, pearl."

Rain steps forward, sighing in relief as Dew wraps the towel around him. "Thank you, Dewey," he says, letting his eyes shut while Dew dries him off, careful of the sensitive gills that line his ribs and throat.

"Don't thank me," Dew hums, reaching up to running his fingers through Rain's waves. He kicks up his temperature even more, helping the water evaporate from his hair as he gently untangles it. "This is me making up for not coming out with you for a swim."

Rain leans into the hand running through his hair, a low purr vibrating in his chest. "You don't like the cold though. I know you'll come out with me once the water actually warms up."

"Yeah, give it a couple more weeks," Dew laughs. Once he's deemed Rain dry enough, he tosses the towel to soak up the puddle Rain had left on his floor before turning to grab the bundle of clothes he set on his bed. "Hands on my shoulders, pearl."

Rain obliges as Dew kneels at his feet, wrapping his cold fingers around Dew's knobby shoulders. Dew presses a kiss to the sharp line of Rain's hip as he helps him step into his boxers. Dew glances up, copper meeting cerulean, and he leans ever so slightly into one of Rain's arms, smiling fondly.

The sweats are quick to follow, and Rain sighs, long lashes fluttering shut as he starts warming up now that he's in dry clothes. Dew stands, kissing Rain's cheek as he moves to grab the t-shirt, but Rain beats him to it, shrugging it on.

He takes a deep breath, burying his aquiline nose in the sage green fabric. He glances up, a spark of mischief swimming in the blue of his irises. "Mount's been sleeping over lately?"

Dew scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully as he pulls back the covers on his bed. "Like Aeth hasn't been staying over with you?"

"Touche," Rain sighs, but he's smiling as Dew lays on his side, patting the open space in front of him. He climbs into bed, settling with his back flush against Dew's narrow chest. The fire ghoul pulls the covers up, making sure each blanket lays flat over them, fighting for a moment with the lining of his weighted blanket.

Dew can feel Rain's body shaking, less so than when he first stuck his head in, but he gives up on fighting with the weighted blanket to hook his arm around his waist. He nudges a skinny thigh between Rain's as he hauls him even closer.

"Thank you," Rain whispers, nuzzling into the pillows, getting as close to Dew as he physically can. Dew smiles, lips pressed to the cool skin on the back of the water ghoul's neck.

"Don't thank me, pearl," Dew hums, breathing in Rain's scent. He still smells like the lake, a little bit like ice, but under that he just smells like Rain, salt and tea tree. Dew's purr kicks up in his chest, rusty like an old motor, and he holds his Rain close.

"Love you, Dewey," Rain says, a wave of exhaustion hitting him now that he's warming up and comfortable.

Dew kisses the nape of his neck, nuzzling at still damp waves. "Love you too, pearl."

Why is he so hawt?