Mushy May Day 17: Funny T-shirts

I was thinking about Ifrit earlier. He seems like the prideful type to never admit he's sick until he's on the verge of falling over.

What if he got that sick and middle Swiss was the one to find him, curled up in bed and miserable? He gets Ifrit comfortable and goes to get Omega to help.

Just an idea I've had floating around, you don't have to write anything, I just often get inspired by your work!

- 🌈

I know this took forever, hope it's ok! Just a small thing

Cw: sick Ifrit, body aches

Ifrit groans and adjusts his pillows again, punching them a few times for good measure before flopping bonelessly against the too warm pillows. He's miserable, he's never sick and now he is and he's miserable.

He can't breathe through his nose and his head feels stuffy and it hurts, his eyes are heavy but he can't sleep, and somehow every single part of his body has decided to hurt. Not to mention the rib rattling cough…

He could text Aether or Omega to come just help him sleep but if he's sick he's sure the Sisters and the siblings are all worse off so the infirmary will be busy. He hopes Dew's ok, hopes that this wave of sickness will decide to be merciful and skip over him.

Ifrit would take every bug that entered the Abbey if it meant Dew never got sick again.

He wallows and tries to think about anything else, literally anything but his head hurts so bad that thinking is hard. He reaches for his phone, tired of suffering for no reason but he knocks it off the side table.

“Really? You can't just cooperate with me?” He whines and he knows he's being ridiculous but he's not used to this! He's hanging off the bed when the door opens.

“Uh…Frit?”

He hears Swiss' small voice, the confusion and concern clear in his tone. Ifrit pulls himself back up slowly, trying not to focus on how much the room is spinning now.

“Hey Furtună…what's up?” (Storm)

“You ok? You don't look so good.”

He tries to force a smile. “I'm ok, just picked up a bug.”

Swiss cocks his head and moves into the room, stopping right next to the bed. He puts the back of his hand against his forehead and frowns.

“You're cold like Dew gets.”

“I don't feel cold.”

“Yeah I know, it's just how you fire ghouls are.” He shrugs. “Did you take medicine yet?”

Ifrit shakes his head, amused and impressed with how quick the little ghoul jumps into action. He watches him pull out his phone and type a message with his tongue poking out, focusing hard on his spelling.

“Aether's gonna be here soon. I'll be right back!”

“Swiss you don't-” But he's already gone, running down the hall. Ifrit laughs despite the pain in his head and throat, grateful for the little multi ghoul.

It takes Aether a bit to get there and Ifrits head and body hurt worse by the time he does. He's quick to soothe the pain, chasing it away and leaving a gentle sleepy haze in its place.

“Rest, I'll come back soon to check in.” He kisses Ifrits forehead and it says a lot about his current condition that he doesn't say something witty about it.

The fuzzy feeling slowly starts to fade as soon as Aether leaves but Ifrit’s sure it'll last a while, at least until he checks in again.

It's quiet and he thinks he might be able to sleep if he really tries…but the door opens again and Swiss backs in slowly. When he turns, Ifrit sees a tray in his hands stacked with snacks and drinks and tissues.

“I got you stuff to make you feel better, Mountain helped but then Dew sneezed so he panicked.” He rolls his gold eyes. “He's not even sick, he just stuck his face in the fuzzy yarn basket and it tickled his nose!”

Ifrit laughs a little at that mental image. “Thank you Swiss, you didn't have to do all this.”

He shrugs like it's nothing. “I wanted to, I like helping.”

Ifrit takes the tray from him when he's close, setting it on his lap and taking his hand.

“Thank you, Furtună, I really appreciate this.”

He ducks his head shyly and shrugs again. “S’ok. I'll go so you can rest!”

“You don't have to, I just don't want you getting sick.”

“It's ok, I'll go make sure Mountain didn't have a heart attack over a sneeze. But I'll come back to take out dirty dishes and I have my phone!”

He bounces out of the room and Ifrit laughs again, Swiss’ energy filling the room with an easy peace, something buzzing and happy. He looks around the tray, finding soup and crackers, one of the honey suckers they give the little ones for sore throats, a cup of tea and a glass of ginger ale. He also notes the handful of chocolate chips Swiss added.

It's thoughtful, touching and once again Ifrit is struck with just how grateful he is. He doesn't finish everything but the tea and the sucker help and before long his eyes are starting to shut.

He hears the door open quietly and Swiss tiptoeing across the room to grab the old dishes. He hears him set something down before he tugs the blankets up over Ifrits shoulder.

“Feel better, Frit.” He leaves just as quietly as he arrived.

Ifrit cracks his eyes open to find another steaming mug of tea and a few more suckers. He smiles and makes a plan to come up with something special to do just for the caring little ghoul.

He shuts his eyes again, it's going to be great….but he needs to rest first.

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.

That's how I feel

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.

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.

This is totally me

Be proud of the dumb, little thing you wrote, just because you wanted to write a dumb, little thing. Your writing doesn't need to be serious and award-winning for you to be proud of it.

I just realized that many many people have jobs

Rb with your job, wtf do you people do while offline???

If you have Ghost you have everything

have some copia face studies!!

I have Ghost tickets for Kansas City, so yeah, I'm actually quite happy.

Prompt #1134

"Are you happy?"

"Fuck. I actually think I am."