meeh was supposed to be walk1ng 1nto a den of beasts to establ1sh a hypothet1cal commun1on a few n1ghts ago, and 1 a1n’t heard anyth1ng s1nce... 1 bet her matespr1t 1s gonna g1ve one hell of a eulogy.
~ (jw) ~ It was another coffeeshop date you and Jungwon sneaked out on. All was promising to go well, when a guy started to approach the two of you while you were in the queue. His confidence was almost admirable, but you knew exactly what would happen once he finally reached you.
“Hey, can I get your number?” He asked, with a grin, leaning on the counter right next to Jungwon. To your surprise, Jungwon didn't say anything yet. But his head turned at an agonisingly slow pace as his eyes looked the dude up and down. Jungwon confrimed something to himself, a grin spreading on his lips. Not a friendly one, but more devilish. For a second there you thought Jungwon will obliterate him with his death stare.
“No, you can’t.” His cold voice could've made a plant dry up, but the man in front of you clearly didn't catch the memo. You tried to mask your sudden laugh into a cough, earning a stare from both.
“Why not?” Jungwon sighed like he had to deal with the most obnoxious 3 year old.
“Not only you ignore,” He gestured towards himself with a rising annoyance. “Me, but you also look like you argue with baristas for an added price of whipped cream. So get lost while I am being generous.”
Then he turned back to you, continuing the conversation, as if the disturbance wasn’t even there to begin with.
~ (hs) ~ Heeseung took you to an outdoor basketball court where he usually spent time with his friends and you were a bit bored on the little bench next to the court, sipping your lemonade, when you spotted a tall man walking over to you in a fast stride.
“Hey, can I ask for your number? You were looking a bit bo-” He didn’t manage to finish his sentence when a ball flew to his shin, Heeseung materialising next to you immediately after.
“Right… Who do we have here.” He asked with a deceptively sweet smile, that the guy totally misread.
“Hey, dude, I was about to ask this beautiful lady for her number.” He shot you a wink, which made you laugh. Not because you were into the weird advances, but because you knew exactly what was coming from your boyfriend.
“Oh, yes, sure, dude. But first let me ask a few questions.” The guy didn’t even manage to react, when Heeseung started rapid-firing questions at him. “Do you have a stable income? Future plans? Respect for boundaries? A functioning brain?” The guy was getting increasingly more confused.
“What..?”
“Tsk, already failed the last one.” Heeseung gently tapped his shoulder, with a consoling smile. "Thanks for trying though. Practice makes perfect, yeah?” Grabbing the ball he threw earlier, he went back to his game, leaving the guy standing shellshocked.
~ (jy) ~ You were about to get in the car to go to a restaurant, when Jay realised he forgot something at home, so he went to grab it. In the meantime, you were waiting outside, mindlessly scrolling on your phone. Which was why you didn’t notice some guy stopping next to you.
“Hey beautiful, can I-” He almost finished his sentence when you heard your boyfriend’s voice.
“I suggest you refrain from finishing that sentence.” Jay finally came back out of the house, stepping next to you. His arm wrapped around your waist in a possessive manner. “Next time try asking someone who’s closer to your league. For your own sake.” Jay looked him over, disdain clear on his face, eyebrows rising in clear annoyance. He could come off really intimidating at times like these, but the pseudo-competition didn’t look like he was backing down either.
“I wasn’t talking to you.” The guy spit back with equal venom in his voice. This just eliceted an annoyed huff from your boyfriend, who was already late to an event and clearly not in a mood for such ecounters.
“No, you weren’t. But luckily she doesn't talk to people who introduce themselves like a cheap dating app ad anyway.” With a final tight-lipped smile he led you to the car, the man still staring daggers at your backs.
~ (jk) ~ The beach vacation was going well, you and Jake were lying under the sun umbrellas, the waves crashing on the shore, creating a deeply relaxing atmosphere. You were about to drift to sleep when you heard someone's voice from your left.
“Mind giving me your number?” Some random guy was standing next to your towel, a scowl on his lips. You were about to refuse when you heard Jake’s ringing laugh like he just heard the funniest joke. He was propped on his elbows, eyeing the guy up and down.
“Bro... you look like someone who sends 'Hi' ten times in a row when you don’t get a reply. I'm saving both of you from that embarrassment.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand and winked at the guy, then calmly went back to lying on his towel.
“Woah, It’s not like that.” He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. Granted he had some sense of humour.
“Oh? Prove it. Say something - anything - that doesn't sound like a copy-pasted DM from 2014.” This time Jake didn’t even open his eyes to grace him with his attention.
The guy stammered helplessly and eventually blanked. Jake sighed like a disappointed parent at his kid's report card.
“There goes another one. Baby, I fear you are stuck with me forever.” He now looked at you and smiled, making you giggle, as the guy left quietly.
~ (sh) ~ You were sitting on the benches overlooking the ice rink after skating for hours. You both were exhausted, warming your hands on the hot chocolate Sunghoon got you, when you heard steps getting closer.
“Can I get your number?” Sunghoon looked up slowly from his cup, like he was being disturbed from his peace.
“No.” Short and to the point like he always was. The guy however didn’t appreciate the intrusion to the conversation he thought he was gonna come out victorious.
“Why not?” He raised an eyebrow, eyeing Sunghoon up and down. Sunghoon tilted his head, with narrowed eyes, visibly intimidating the guy now.
“Because I said so. Do you need me to break it down for you? N. O.” The guy stepped back, raising his hands in defeat.
“Okay, okay, sorry I asked gee…” Quickly retreating back to where he came from.
Sunghoon went back to his drink like nothing happened, earning him a smack on the shoulder.
“Could’ve just let me speak, macho man.” You rolled your eyes at his happy giggle, going back to your drink.
~ (sn) ~ You and Sunoo finally found a moment of free time for a little park walk and you were quietly enjoying the weather, while Sunoo took pictures of the flowers for his social media, when a man approached you from your right.
“Can I have your number?” Starting strong - with the most unoriginal line ever heard - he looked at you expectantly. Sunoo gasped loudly like he'd just witnessed a crime.
“Oh my gosh. Are you... serious? Here? In broad daylight? In front of witnesses?” He even had his hand on his chest for more dramatic effect, making you laugh.
The people walking in the park look over; some confused and some intrigued. The guy gradually turned red at the turn of the events.
“What- I'm just asking!” He said, voice coming out louder than he anticipated, which deepened the red on his cheeks.
Sunoo fanned himself dramatically, now closer to you, the other hand on your waist.
“Sir, she has standards. You look like the rat we saw at the subway last week. Please step aside.” With a dismissive gesture, Sunoo guided you away from him to walk on the opposite side of the park, some of the witnessing people giggling to themselves at the embarrassed expression of the man.
~ (rk) ~ You were at the dance studio lobby, waiting for Riki to finish his practice and join you for a restaurant date, but while you were scrolling on your phone someone came up to you.
“Hey, can I get your number?” You were about to answer, when the door to the changing rooms swung open, your boyfriend not even looking at the man next to you while he passed by. He plopped right next to you on the couch with an air of nonchalance that almost made you laugh. He was clearly bothered seeing this random man talking to you.
“Whatever it is that you asked, the answer is no.” You laughed at the clear displeasure in Riki’s voice, not being used to his jealousy.
“Why not? I'm not even ugly.” The guy replied with a cocky grin sprawled on his face. You almost got up to leave, dragging your boyfriend up with you, but Riki finally looked at the guy with the most unimpressed expression you’ve seen on his face.
“Sure, maybe you're not ugly. But you’re also irrelevant.” He put on his blackout sunglasses and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. Riki pulled you up and off the couch, getting ready to exit the studio.
“What does that even mean?” To the man's question Riki just shrugged.
“Open the dictionary and find out.” The last replique left his mouth open, looking at your backs.
❪ c. warnings! ❫ — gn!reader, oblivious!reader, established relationship, this is pretty much just crackish in the beginning and flows to something more suggestive, dick calls reader doll and 'tough guy' (affectionately, in a gender-neutral way)
❪ a. note! ❫ — inspired by real events experienced by yours truly about 24 hours ago. yes, including the toilet scene.
if anyone in your friend groups ever needs an indication of whether their taste buds are lying to them, it’s you. you are the human indicator. the problem is, your scale of deliciousness is denoted by how sensual you sound when tasting food.
yes, you are the person that moans any time food tastes absolutely delectable.
they don’t blame you, though. if anything, your friends have grown to find it endearing, if not silly sometimes. you grew up in a family and culture that shows appreciation of food by praising it, be it through decipherable human words or sounding like you’re filming an amateur porno.
regardless, eating with you is an absolute joy. you’ve always made sure that everyone gets a fill and you’re the first to always share the food on your plate when you notice someone’s eyes lingering on something in particular. you also tend to be a little more adventurous with food. you have an entire excel sheet of different establishments that you enjoy dining at, ranging from italian to mediterranean to indonesian, also because you love exploring new cultures through this avenue.
dick grayson is your longtime friend who also shares similar, if not the same, values.
a korean barbecue restaurant that you’ve been dying to try finally opens up a spot for you two. it often has snaking queues, with reservations having to be made days in advance. dick wanted to take you on a night drive to unwind after a long week, and you’re great company to have a meal with. he picked you up after work and now you’re in a private booth on the second storey of the restaurant.
“this is a pleasant surprise, actually,” you gasp when you’re led inside. the first floor is warm, stuffy, and absolutely congested. you know for a fact that you and dick would both be sweating your asses off. it was pure luck that it happened to be a slow day for this restaurant and there was no line at the door.
“no doubt. think i could go for the lottery tomorrow morning with all this luck in one night?” dick jokes as he slides into the seat across you.
platonic flirting is a thing, right? it definitely is. you playfully flirt with friends of the same gender, and you do the same to friends of the opposite gender if you’re close enough for that. dick happens to be one of the friends you platonically flirt with.
with him, sometimes the lines get blurred a little. he’s the type to have his arm around your waist when you’re in crowded places, to have one hand on your knee or thigh when he’s driving you around, to give you kisses on your temple or forehead when you need it or ‘just because’.
you have friends who’d say that you’re too dense or oblivious to when people are flirting with you.
please. you’re a grown adult. you can pick up when people are properly flirting with you.
you’re usually the one who does the cooking when you go out with friends for kbbq. but with dick? he’s insisting that all you need to do is what you do best.
”just look pretty and enjoy the meal.” dick picks up the scissors and metal tongs without giving you a chance to grab them. he’s always had fast reflexes. “i got this, don’t worry. you deserve to have someone else cook instead of you.”
you don’t really trust him in the kitchen, but all he has to do is grill the spread of meat. it can’t possibly be that hard.
dick grayson proudly (ish) proves to you that it is that hard.
he burned through the first piece of meat when you’d suggested he do a ‘trial grill’. the second one was somewhat better. it took a lot of guiding and watching from your end, and reminding him to flip the meat in between your conversations. he kind of got the hang of it after burning through half a serving of the chicken marinated in the house special sauce.
dick offers you the first perfectly grilled meat. well, it’s perfect to him because it isn’t undercooked or overcooked beyond salvation. it’s good enough for you because it’s edible.
you grab a piece of lettuce, dip the small piece into the dipping sauce, layer it with some kimchi, then wrap it up into a roll as tiny as possibe.
“what’s that?” he asks curiously while mirroring your movements to perfection.
“this is called ‘ssam’ in korean. just means wrap, if i remember it correctly. this is how koreans usually eat barbecue, or at least that’s what the tour guide taught me when i travelled to korea.” you explain it to him carefully, then show off how you wrap it. it’s not perfect by any means, but it’s wrapped tightly enough for you to pop it into your mouth without any spillage. “see?”
dick makes a sound that expresses how impressed he is. he unfortunately chokes on his spit a heartbeat after when you bite into the ssam and moan.
the sweet sound sends a strong jolt straight to his cock. he wants to tease you about it but the words escape him. he watches how your eyes flutter shut and your cute face is scrunched up in pleasure.
“that good?” he cocks an eyebrow upward in amusement.
“that good.” you nod.
every time you try a different cut or type of meat, you’re moaning again. you make it so damn hard to steer the conversation in any direction at all when you’re making those sounds and your face is . . . well, doing all of that.
dick has to adjust himself in his pants every once in a while and he thanks whatever god is out there that his slacks are black. the dark colour and the somewhat dim lighting in this private booth is universe’s natural photoshop in hiding his fucking erection.
not that you have any idea about it at all.
you’re too busy enjoying the food and making sure he knows it. now he’s a little jealous that you’re making all of these noises for food and not for him.
“you’re really liking the food, huh?” dick’s voice is a little rougher than he’d intended it to sound and he takes a sip of his drink. “you’re gonna make people think i’m fucking you stupid in here.”
you choke on your own spit when you register his words. heat rushes to your cheeks and he has the audacity to laugh at how flustered you are.
“grayson!” you give his calf a gentle kick and he laughs harder.
“you’re so cute sometimes.” he shakes his head, a wide smile on his face. you reach over with your chopsticks—you’ve been struggling with the thin pieces of metal for a while now—and try to pick up some kimchi from the small plate. your lips twist to the side slightly and a small groan of frustration bubbles at the back of your throat. “d’you need help?”
“i got this.” you reassure him with a smile. on the universe’s meticulously planned comedic timing, one of the metal sticks falls from your hand.
generational fumble, that.
“okay, tough guy. let me help.” dick effortlessly picks up a piece of the kimchi but instead of bringing it to your plate, he brings it to your lips.
you part your lips and stick your tongue out. your eyes meet his the same second he feeds you. your heart skips a beat. you close your lips around the warmed metal and he pulls his chopsticks back.
“that’s a good doll.” dick purrs with a wicked grin.
heat flares up your cheeks and you almost choke on your kimchi. clearly amused by your reaction, he cackles at just how good he got you to hide the fact he has a raging boner in his pants.
“ugh, fuck you, grayson.” you finally manage to find your voice after downing the rest of your water.
“just say when and where, doll.” the shit-eating grin never left his face. despite your flustered state, you glare at him and flip him off.
you continue to eat the meal, catching up over what happened in your personal lives since you just met. dick is one of the only people you could gladly be a hater with. no judgement of judging what’s on the news and the character of certain people that you just can’t seem to get rid of in your shared friend groups. ethical hating, he’s called it once, and you laughed so hard that you snorted at that.
when it’s time to get the bill, he volunteers to pay while you relax in the aftermath of falling into a food coma.
he gets it done quickly but he tells you that you can let the food settle in your tummy before he sends you back to your place. one of the things you love about spending time with dick is that you can just sit in silence with each other. it’s comfortable.
you’re leaning against the back of your leather seat as you scroll through your social media out of boredom. a few minutes pass.
“i’m gonna head to the washroom real quick.” dick announces out of nowhere.
“oh,” you blink up. he’s long gone before you could say “okay.”
you thought nothing much about it. maybe he just really needed to take a piss and it’s urgent. you sink back into your little bubble but you soon get worried when he doesn’t return after ten minutes. you peer over to his side of the table. his phone’s there so you can’t really call him to check in on him.
maybe he’s just taking a massive shit.
yeah, that’s probably it.
he only returns after twenty minutes.
“you okay?” your brows pinch into a slight frown when you see him pop back into your booth.
“no, yeah, i’m okay, doll.” dick leans down to kiss your temple reassuringly, large hand smoothing over the back of your head. “shall we?”
after gathering your belongings, he guides you back to his car parked across the street with his hand on your lower back. he’s careful to look out for incoming cars and bikes. he’s helping you into your seat, opening up the car door, and even going the extra mile to tuck your seatbelt in for you.
he lets you control the music while he drives, one hand on your thigh while you hum along and switch your brain off after a long day at work.
he doesn’t just drop you off once he’s arrived at your apartment building, no. he parks his car in the basement parking lot then walks you to your door despite the late hour. you can’t help but think of how thankful you are to have a thoughtful friend like him in your life.
you give him a hug and he gives you a kiss on your forehead goodbye before you disappear past your apartment door.
you continue with your nightly routine, grabbing your bathrobe and towel then heading into your bathroom to shower. you have a habit of bringing your phone in with you to play some music while you unwind and have some quiet time for yourself.
as soon as you’ve stripped down to nakedness, you get a notification. curious, you check your phone. it’s a message from dick. an ominous message from dick, in fact.
You’re very cute, you know that? But also so irresponsible sometimes.
you frown in confusion.
you tap onto the notification and it brings you to your message thread with him.
at the same time, a photo message appears. it takes a short second to load.
“oh.” you say out loud, your own voice echoing dumbly in your bathroom and your head.
it’s a photo!
a photo of dick grayson’s erection in his slacks, with the blue led lights of his car’s interior highlighting the size and shape. your eyes are poring over every single detail, far more than you think you should. heat pools in your lower belly as you admire his erection. oh, he’s definitely got a big dick. you want to laugh at your train of thought but your throat goes dry when another message appears beneath the photo.
You made me jerk off to you in the bathroom at the resto earlier. Now I’m hard as a rock thinking about you again.
he what?
another message. your heart skips a beat.
You sounded so sweet moaning earlier. Think you got it in you to give me an encore? I wanna see what other sounds you can make for me.
okay, maybe you are as dense and oblivious as your friends have told you. shit.
summary: in which you, gladys, and the cats decide to intrude on the canon of the game by heading to sdn yourselves. also featuring: galen, mr whiskey, They Put Him On A Train, thumbstick, and reader making several cool but poorly-thought through decisions.
content / warnings: lightly angsty, lighthearted, red ring attacks, set during chapter 8 of dispatch (so spoilers for the last part of the game), minor violence towards reader at the end (non-graphic). reader works in assistive care / as a home health aide and doesn't have superpowers
word count: 5.4 k
a/n: when i said slightly in advance i meant slightly in advance... but chapter 6 is finally here !!!! ε-(´∀｀; ) welcome to the penultimate chapter !!!! thank you again for sticking with this if you've read this far!
for the sake of it being only slightly more plausible, the number of cats herm and gladys own has been reduced to ten to fifteen (though i'm pretty sure there's like. 30??? in canon)
This is bad. This is really, really bad.
You are rooted to the spot in the living room, what seems to be every muscle in your body tense, panicked thoughts looping and amplifying in your brain. What's being shown on the news has long since escaped your notice, but you can hear the distressing noises from the TV well enough if you focus. You don't want to focus. The pot of soup you made earlier is cooling at your side. You wonder if Herm will ever get to eat it — why are you thinking that, he's only been missing for a few hours, he's not gone. Right? Right. Right?
This is really, really, really, really —
Someone is calling your name. Only when it's said for the third time are you snapped out of this daze enough to realize it's Gladys, and you fumble for the remote, turning the volume of the TV down.
‘Sorry, what?’ you mutter.
‘I said it isn't safe,’ Gladys says, worriedly running a frayed edge of her sweater underneath her fingers. ‘They're ordering citizens to evacuate where they can, but the attacks have spread to all over the city — a combination of weaponry and Super-made disasters, it looks like.'
You force yourself to look back at the TV screen. Sure enough, they're now showing a map of the city, live updating with every location under attack. Mecha Meow Blue snarls, tail lifting, at the sight of pins appearing all over the map — you can't even see parts of it anymore, buried as they are under the amount of distress signals. At this rate, either of your places could be next.
With less than steady hands, you reach for your phone and dial the SDN hotline, helpfully printed out and stuck to the refrigerator, to see if anyone is available. All you're able to get, however, is an automated female voice informing you that you are “currently number 1.6.7. in the queue. Please hold,” shortly followed by what is infuriatingly cheery pop corporate music for the situation.
Shit. Shit. Head pounding, you curse under your breath and try another help line, a different branch, then a third just in case — they're all busy, like the onslaught of villains has needed heroes from the neighboring cities to step in.
Gladys shuffles to open the curtains, peering through the windows out into the neighborhood; as she does so, another explosion sounds, and this time you can feel the floor vibrating underneath your feet. Whatever the explosions are being caused by, Super-made or not, they're getting closer.
Gladys drops the curtain and steps back. Her expression is more serious than you've ever seen her, out of place in the warmth and welcoming environment of her house.
She hesitates. ‘I’m afraid I can't go far on my own, in any case. With Herm not here…’
Her sentence trails off, but you can understand the implication well enough. Gladys isn't currently fit to drive. On occasions where she needs something that can't just be ordered you or Herm go and get it for her — with so many disasters around in general, it's just safer that way. But on her own, she can only walk short distances, and you're not going to let her even try to go out in this situation. But you can't just stay here.
What would a superhero do? you ask yourself. Well, they'd be fighting villains right now, but they'd be able to get the both of you to safety. They'd have super strength or super speed or even just being able to foresee this happening in the first place. But you aren’t a superhero. Hell, you’re a long way from what you’d consider super — all you have is a decently functional brain and body on most days, and neither of those are particularly at their best right now.
Gladys is many, many things, sharp as a tack and witty to boot, but right now, she is as scared as you are. This situation is too dire for you to risk going back to your place, and like hell if you're going to leave Gladys alone. You’re on your own, no hero to call on, at least not for the time being — and time, you think, as you feel the floor vibrate again under your feet, is exactly something you don’t have.
Superheroes can't do anything here. So what can you do?
You look at the TV again, where they're still showing the map. Disasters are littered everywhere, yes, but — if you drive fast enough, if you decide to brave the traffic that you hate to get there — there is a decently clear path to SDN, almost like the Red Ring wants to zero in on it later, free of other problems.
That in itself is a problem. But SDN is a superhero building. It deals with problems like this literally every day. You think they brought a kaiju back there once. The walls have to be fortified, or have a barrier around them, or something, right? Or they must have a safe spot somewhere where you can both hold out until the worst of this is over. And if you go there, the staff, Robert among them, must know where Herm is, or at least must know how to find him. He was still there the last time you called, so he must still be trackable if — and you don't dwell on this too long, because it hasn't been that long, but you can't stop the thought entering your mind — if he's still around to be tracked.
It's a half-baked, panic-laced, questionable decision, one that would probably raise more than a few eyebrows and get criticized as a massive plot hole in any movie. But it's the one you're making.
‘Gladys,’ you say, and she looks at you. ‘Let's get out of here. We’re going to SDN.’
A look of deliberation flashes briefly in Gladys’s eyes before she nods once, jaw setting. ‘I’ll go pack a bag.’
It doesn't take much time to help her pack a few things, enough for an overnight stay if it comes to it, and you take an extra pair of clothes for Herm, too, if (when) he comes back. After some thinking, you decide to take the pot of soup with you, though that decision is made more out of hunger than fear. You make sure to safely help Gladys into your car and secure her in before looking at the house for any lingering —
'What about the cats?' you hear Gladys call faintly from the car.
Yes. The cats are looking at you, from all around the living room — white, black, orange, striped, tortoiseshell, eyes large and pleading. You don't speak cat — yet another thing you would wish for as a superhero — but you know you can't leave them, either.
Which begs a question you've never thought to ask yourself before: how many cats will fit in your car?
——
The answer to this question is shortly revealed as All The Cats. Not that it was in any way easy to haul them in. They crowd the inside of your car with their carriers, piling on top of Gladys's lap and in the seats, and there’s so much meowing and fur everywhere that the plan you'd thought up is starting to become distinctly feline in shape. But you've managed to do it somehow, and now all of them — you hurriedly run through the roll call, names including Mittens, Bane, and the three Mechas rattled off of your tongue as you keep count — are bundled in safely, and you're now speeding your way over to SDN. This is decidedly not what you were expecting out of the evening. Not that you're going to change your mind. You're too busy trying not to hit anything else.
‘Everyone good back there?’ you yell, voice straining over the roar of the engine. ‘Gladys?’
‘I’m alright, dear,’ Gladys shouts back, somehow managing to sound significantly calmer than you. At least ten distinct cats meow their confirmation right alongside her.
It’s good enough. You go as fast as you can, passing fires along the way that don't seem to be dampened at all by the pouring rain, and see various villains of the Red Ring fighting dispatched superheroes, looking to see if any of the ones you recognize are among them. The rain blurs most things outside of the windshield wipers to indistinct shapes, but you get the gist: it’s not going well at all.
It’s a miracle that you manage to make it out of the complex web of traffic blocking everything — and an even greater miracle that you're not flattened somehow in the process — but you do. With your chest heaving and adrenaline buzzing through your system so hard that it’s a wonder the steering wheel doesn’t get wrenched plain off, you pull up to SDN, tires screeching to a halt, and narrowly miss hitting anything as you park.
For all intents and purposes, SDN still looks like a remarkably ordinary-looking office building up close — as in, it looks pretty flatten-able, which doesn't lend you a lot of hope. But all the building’s lights are on, which is good — someone must be able to help you out inside.
Telling Gladys (and the cats) to wait inside, you jump out and race at full speed into the building, where a harried-looking receptionist is rapidly speaking on the phone; as she slams it down, you run up to the booth. nearly slipping on the wet tracks you've created.
‘Hello,’ you rush, louder than you need to be. ‘I need to find somewhere for us — that’s me, my elderly friend Gladys, and, uh, ten to fifteen cats, I’m not entirely certain — to stay here. Please.’
The receptionist stares at you. You gulp a large breath. You're dripping water all over her desk. You probably sound insane. The phone rings its high trill again, and she looks torn in two, eyes darting between it and you, wondering who to help first.
Thankfully, it’s at this moment that the elevator dings, and someone’s voice resounds from behind you. ‘— ’s okay, Gloria, I’ve got it.'
Relieved, the receptionist gives a grateful smile to them and and snatches up the phone again. You turn to see a bearded man in a turban and glasses walking out of the elevator, wearing the same type of uniform Robert had on in the bar — he must be a fellow dispatcher.
‘Hey,’ he greets, raising his hand and giving you a half-wave. ‘I’m Galen. Everything okay down here?’
‘Yes,’ you say, revising, ‘Uh, no, I’ve got my friend and her pets here with me and —‘
‘Ten to fifteen cats. I heard the meowing,' Galen says, wincing slightly at your loud volume. ‘Okay. You’re not the only people to have come here tonight. We don't have a designated evacuation room at the moment, so we're letting people stay in the main office's break room for now — are you and your friend, and the cats, good with that?’
There's something about him that makes you feel more at ease — or, at the very least, like this internal crisis you're having is manageable. ‘Yeah,’ you breathe. ‘Yes. Thank you so much. Let me just get them out of the car.’
‘I’ll help you out.’
Nodding, you lead Galen over to your car, which is still thankfully intact and everyone inside: it's quiet, but opening the door, the meows immediately start up once again.
Galen whistles. ‘Wow, you weren’t kidding. They all yours?’
‘Gladys’s,’ you say, gesturing to her. Gladys smiles as one of them escapes its carrier to make itself comfy on her lap. ‘And my boyfriend Herm’s. I mean Waterboy’s.’ You clap a hand over your mouth and mentally kick yourself. ‘I mean — shit.’
‘I know his name,’ Galen says. His lip quirks. ‘He talks about you a lot.’
‘Oh. Uh.' You can't help but grin a little at that, and nearly let another cat that escaped fall out of your arms, letting its fur get wet; you are swiftly punished for this with a clawed swat to the arm. ‘He didn’t come back today, and we’ve both tried calling him. Is he here?’
Galen shakes his head. ‘He clocked out of work late, and then his signal cut off on the way back home, shortly before the attacks started. Robert’s upstairs trying to find him and the other team members now.’
Your face falls. Gladys looks worried again. Your expressions must be downtrodden enough to make Galen feel the need to comfort you both, because he reaches over, placing a reassuring hand on hers; he looks up at you, and he seems sure of himself. Determined.
‘It’s gonna be okay.’
‘Okay,’ you echo, willing some calm back into your nervous system. ‘Okay. Okay.’
‘Hell yeah, okay as fuck.’ He grins, and then turns to Gladys sheepishly, remembering himself. ‘No offense, ma’am.'
'None taken,' Gladys says amusedly.
'Alright. Cool.' Galen picks up a cat carrier. 'Now let’s get you all inside.’
——
With three people helping, it is marginally less work to get all the cats with you into the elevator and up to the first floor. In order to get to the break room, you have to pass through SDN’s main office, which is full of dispatchers at their cubicles and dozens of others running around doing this and that, as well as various beaten-up heroes getting brought in, presumably being led off to the lower levels to be treated for injuries. You take a cursory glance around, hoping to spot Robert, but you don't see him; you do have an armful of cat, which is taking up a fair amount of the attention. It’s the largest amount of actual supers you’ve ever seen in one room, and there's a lot of famous aces you recognize from the room — is that Phenomaman sadly eating melons in the corner, or are you already sleep deprived? It’s a little hard to decide whether to still be shellshocked or to want an autograph.
‘Literally everything’s giving us trouble at the minute, so things are a bit hectic,’ Galen explains as he leads you through the fray. ‘We’ve been getting calls left and right. Can’t tell you how much it messes with my super-hearing to be hearing it all.'
‘Well, we very much appreciate your taking us,’ Gladys says appreciatively. 'Thank you very much.'
‘No problem. It’s what we’re here for. Oh — Whiskey!’ Galen calls out to an orange cat mascot, who promptly walks over. ‘Can you show these people — and cats — to the break room? I gotta get back out there.’
The mascot nods and waves a large, suited paw, their face blank (still, you can’t help but feel like something shifted in their face all the same), and the cats who wriggled their way out of the carriers pad over to them, as if enthralled by their presence.
Galen turns back to you. ‘Sorry,’ he says apologetically, ‘I’m needed again at the desk. But Mr Whiskey’ll get you set up with everything you need while you wait for this to be over. And don’t worry.’ He smiles again. ‘We’ll find Waterboy.’
‘Thank you again,’ you say earnestly.
With a nod and a wave goodbye, Galen walks back to his desk, and you follow the mascot into the break room.
In contrast to the office, the break room is quieter, though already filled halfway with regular civilians like yourselves talking and eating; a couple exhausted-looking dispatchers are scarfing down dinner next to the microwave. There's an empty table near the fridge, and Mr Whiskey gestures to it, pulling out two chairs for the both of you and bids you to sit, which you do with a mumble of thanks. Ambling over to the sink, they fill and then bring you two glasses of water, and then motions towards a cabinet stocked with tea and a kettle on the counter. You give them a thumbs up.
After a pause, the mascot deliberately points to the several open bottles of liquor lining the counter as well. You give him a second thumbs up, and they pour two cups of coffee (as well as a generous amount of whiskey in one), then shuffling away.
Now left to your own devices, you dry yourself, Gladys, and all the cats you can see off as best as you can, heating your soup up in the microwave and scarfing it down (Fast And The Furious, you are not, but the driving still left you in dire need of sustenance); Gladys takes out a half-knitted sweater from her bag, starting up work on it. For the next few minutes, you listen to the sounds of the people around you while you watch her complete one row at a time.
‘Well, this is nice,’ the elderly woman comments eventually, looking around the room. ‘Or, well, nice as a building could be. It could do with some curtains and color. But at least Herm is in a nice space to work.’
‘Yeah.’ You fidget with your hands and grab the cup of water, unsure of what to do with them now. Sitting in silence suddenly feels like too much. ‘Gladys?’
‘Yes?’
‘He’ll be okay, right?’ Your voice wavers; the adrenaline from earlier hasn’t worn off, but the lack of active danger is no longer blunting your emotions, the worry audibly seeping back in. ‘Herm’ll be okay.’
‘I think so,’ she says. It sounds much less certain to you than you want it to be. 'He's capable of taking care of himself — maybe a little clumsy sometimes, but he’s always managed to find his way.’ She sets her knitting down, clasping her hands together, as if in prayer, and closes her eyes.
‘Okay.’ Your gaze falls to the table; on it, the water ripples in the glass, reflecting your anxious face. ‘Yeah.’
‘You know,’ Gladys says, ‘Herm has always been a bit of a lonely child. Even when he was younger, he used to come home in tears because of incidents relating to his powers, or some social slight or another.' She sighs. 'He's a very earnest boy. It's a wonderful thing, but it can drive people away. It's driven lots of people away before. He's been very discouraged because of it in the past.’
You listen to her without interjecting. Gladys opens her eyes and turns her face towards yours. Her voice is calm, despite the slight tremor in her hands.
‘But he always keeps going, even when it’s hard, even when it takes him longer than others sometimes. And a little belief in him goes a long way. Since he found his job, and since he’s met you, he’s really come into his own.'
'You think he's changed?'
'No, it's not that he's changed — he’s still the little tadpole I know and love — but he’s happier. Now that he can do good to help people, now that he has friends. And someone who loves him just as much as I do. And who believes in him, too.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘Whatever’s happened to him, I have faith that he’ll make our way back to us. And as long as we believe in him — and we love him, just as we have been doing — I think it'll be alright.'
The emotion finally gets the better of you, then, and tears brim at your waterline. ‘I — Gladys, thank you. I can't tell you how much that means to me.'
‘You can tell me later,’ she says softly, ‘when Herm gets back.’
You sit like that for a while, listening to the sounds in the room again; the ticking of the clock, the rotation of food in the microwave. Waiting for something to happen.
——
Somewhere along the line, you doze off a little, but you're woken by a different kind of commotion as a dozen voices raise outside of the door in excitement. The sound suddenly swells, alarms pinging all over the office, followed by crackly voices from the radio calling in for help. It seems like they’ve found the missing heroes’ frequencies.
From among them, one panicked, stammering voice rings out over all the rest, one that you instantly recognize:
‘R-requesting assistance!’
Both your and Gladys’s heads snap up at full attention, eyes wide.
‘That’s —' you start.
‘Herm,’ Gladys breathes, motioning for you to get up. ‘Quickly, quickly, go see if he’s alright!’
You don’t need to be told twice. You bolt out of your seat and run straight into the office to look for Robert. In the sea of blue shirts, he’s not easy to spot, but eventually you find him, hunched over in his chair, fingers flying away at the keyboard. He looks like he’s been through hell.
You practically vault over obstacles and overturned papers to get to him. When you reach his desk, he’s stopped typing and is now issuing orders in a cool, even tone of voice, sending the Z-Team out to help.
No need for overt formalities; you lean over the side of the cubicle. He glances at you, flummoxed — and probably lightly irritated — but doesn’t protest you being there.
‘Robert,’ you blurt. ‘Hi. We met a couple nights ago at the Sardine. I’m H — Waterboy’s —‘
Robert cuts you off curtly. ‘Hey.’ He moves his headphones off one ear and presses a button, pointing to the screen of his computer. On it, you spot avatars of the whole team, Herm's flashing red in the corner. The sound of a whistle blares from the speaker. ‘We just found his signal. They put him on a train going out of town.’
Your head jerks back. ‘On a what?’
Robert doesn’t repeat himself, tapping in a set of coordinates — the map zooms into Herm's location in more detail, where his avatar appears to be moving very quickly outside of the city limits. ‘His comm was disrupted, along with the train’s operational system — it’s going to crash in a matter of minutes if we don't do something quickly.’
You grip the side of the cubicle, your pulse suddenly beginning to race. ‘Oh my god.’
‘Hey,’ Golem’s voice rumbles in over the speaker, his words almost slurring together. ‘What’re they doing here?’
‘What the fuck, Wetfartboy’s lover is at SDN now?' Flambae asks right after him. 'What kind of get-together is this, Robert?’
‘Guys, focus,’ Robert snaps, scrubbing a hand over his face and hissing as it drags over a visible bruise. ‘Waterboy’s still responsive, but the train’s sustained enough damage to its carriage that he can’t force his way out of there, not without further damage to himself.’
‘So then do something,’ you insist frantically, the only words registering in your mind being CRASH and DANGER and DAMAGE. ‘You can’t just leave him there.’
‘We won't’ Robert selects Sonar’s profile. ‘He's improved a lot, but he won't be able to handle this on his own. Sonar, I need you to go over there and rescue him. Quickly.'
‘I will actually eat someone if Waterboy’s dead,’ the bat remarks seriously, before the sound of bat wings starts up, accompanied by loud screeching, and Sonar's avatar begins to move in Herm's direction. Well, at least he's on board.
Robert selects Herm’s profile now, pressing the individual comm line. You hold your breath.
‘Waterboy,' Robert asks urgently. Can you hear me?’
Herm’s voice crackles over the speaker, almost buried beneath layers of static, and god, he sounds so scared. ‘Y-yes, sir — Robert. I don’t — this is headed really, very, very fast, and I tried getting out but it’s not working, and it hurts, and —' he breaks off as something hits the ground, followed by a panicked, ' — it’s going f-faster now. Please help —‘
‘Okay, okay, breathe. Stay with me, kid,’ Robert commands, his voice dropping lower, calmer. ‘We're coming as fast as we can. I just need you to hold on a little longer. Can you do that for me?’
‘I —' Herm cuts himself off as the loud sound of groaning metal is heard. A warning signal starts up and begins to insistently whine. ‘I — I don’t k-know.’
‘You can. I know you can,’ Robert says firmly, eyes roving over Sonar’s avatar, which is gradually catching up to Herm’s, so far to the edge of the screen it’s almost disappeared. ‘Just a few more minutes.’
‘Herm,’ you break in, not being able to help yourself as you lean over the cubicle as far as possible. ‘Hang on, okay? We’re coming.’
A gasp at the end of the line, and then Herm stutters your name, shock and disbelief warring in equal measure in his tone as his audio spikes.
‘W-what are you — why are you here? There?’ His voice picks up in speed and pitch, his concern growing. ‘Is — Gamma, and the — is everyone, are they — you all, are you all doing okay?'
‘Yes, they’re fine. We’re all okay, I took us all to SDN and we're safe,’ you assure him, trying to mimic Robert’s calming voice and not doing particularly well. ‘Herm, just try to stay with me. Help is coming.’ You swallow. ‘I believe in you, Herm. You can do it, okay?'
‘Okay,’ he mumbles, smaller, but evidently relieved. ‘Okay.' You hear him swallow. 'I love you.’
It's only been a short time since you started saying that to each other. The idea that this could be the last time when you should have a whole lifetime to say it threatens to make you cry again. ‘I love you too.’
The warning signal is getting louder now, more insistent, like it’s pounding through your skull. Robert curses loudly under his breath and keys in a new series of commands, honing in on Herm’s profile; Sonar is so, so close, but the train is so close to collision.
Herm’s voice is barely audible now as the train begins to break apart, the whistling wind around his microphone blanking out what he’s trying to say. You catch the beginning of your name.
And then it is quickly swallowed up by a massive ear-splintering crash, the sound fragmenting and echoing loudly across the room. Heads turn as Robert grips the sides of the monitor, yelling something to both of them that you can't make out.
On screen, Herm’s avatar vanishes.
You hear yourself let out a keen noise of despair, watching it disappear with wide-eyed terror. There is absolute silence on the other end, save for the pouring rain and the static mixing together.
But then: the flap of wings, a weak cough, and the screech of a bat…
And then Sonar’s voice cuts in, distinctly out of breath, but there's a note of pride in it, too.
‘Waterboy found,' he reports. 'Pulled his ass out in time.’
There are cheers. You cry out a second time in joy, accompanying it with a near-hysterical laugh, and Robert sighs in relief, slumping in his chair.
‘Good job, Sonar,' he says. 'Waterboy, how’re you feeling?’
‘…Everything h-hurts. Even my socks,’ comes the hesitant reply from Sonar’s comm. ‘But I’m — heading back okay.’
You race back to the break room, tripping over your own feet to tell Gladys the good news, and the SDN has never seen a happier pair of civilians. Or a happier bunch of cats.
——
Things grow only more chaotic after that. Though your mood has been significantly bolstered by the outcome of Herm making it back safe, there are only more and more increasing calls of distress reported as the night wears on. You and Gladys keep yourselves busy by helping out some of the other civilians where you can, which mainly consists of talking to them and letting them pet the cats, who seem to have taken it upon themselves to sit on as many laps as possible. You don’t get to see Herm when he makes it back, but it’s okay — the knowledge that he’s safe, and here in the first place, is good enough with you. You plan to have quite a story to tell him when you get together again, that's for sure.
Another hour into your stay, you feel a rumble beneath your feet, and the building shakes slightly. Some people mutter, concerned. The commotion sends a few of the cats scattering, and Mecha Meow Blue — who up until this point has been so uncharacteristically peaceful — jumps off of your lap, running straight outside of the room. Hastily, you get up and chase after him.
Running further out into the hallway, you have just enough time to see the end of a bushy tail disappear into the elevator doors. Muttering a curse under your breath, you dive after the tail and manage to wedge yourself in between the doors, pushing through just as they close on you.
'Nice going,' you say unamusedly. Mecha Meow Blue flicks his tail placidly in response.
A light appears on the button for LABORATORY, and the elevator begins to move downwards — it takes longer than you think it would, and so you let yourself settle briefly, eyes drifting closed. It's pretty late now. You'll just let this person in, whoever they are, and then you'll go back up, and then you'll be done with all the crazy action for a night.
The doors slide open, and in front of you stands a large, muscled man in a mask, ripped tank top, equally ripped jeans, and a distinctly uncomfortable stance. An implant on his arm glares bright red, extending all the way down to his thumb.
He looks down at you. You look back at him. He begins to draw out a gun.
Mecha Meow Blue hisses, springing at him and clawing at his mask. With a growl, the man shakes him off, but it manages to make him stumble back, at least, lowering his weapon. You take the opportunity to scramble out with the cat hot on your heels, booking it for the nearest exit, or door, or something — why are all the doors, even those to the bathrooms, keycarded? What organization does that? You hear his loud, thundering footsteps behind you, moving with superhuman speed. You have the sinking feeling he might be mad.
By some miracle, a testing room happens to be open. You barrel past stacks of metal-plate armor, rocket boosters, and around a computer monitor, the villain running behind you all the way. Out of the corner of your eye, you swear you spot someone else moving behind the glass window on the far wall, but then the villain aims his weapon and fires and you’re knocked flat on your ass, the wind leaving your lungs in one sharp burst.
Mecha Meow Blue hisses, and springs away, scampering off to behind the glass and yowling at someone — hiding in the shadows, or simply invisible, you can't tell — who begins hissing to it frantically to shh shh shhhh, shut the fuck up.
The villain advances on you, snarling. There’s a claw mark that's somehow managed to score off a chunk of his mask and cutting into the outer side of his cheek that's sure not to scar very well. He grabs you by the shirt and hauls you upwards in one swift move, and the rage you can see behind his eyes is palpable.
What would a superhero do?
What would you do?
Putting absolutely no thought into the action, you decide to summon the last of your adrenaline and punch him right in the face.
Punches, it turns out, hurt like hell. It’s like his face is made of metal; pain radiates outwards from your hand, and you yelp, cradling it to your chest. But it’s almost worth it for the stunned expression on his face as his grip loosens, and you take the opportunity to push yourself off of him and keep running.
Unfortunately, this is also the time when you're so caught up in the heat of the moment that you realize you've hit a dead end in the room. By the time you turn around, the villain is already behind you again.
You see the next few seconds only in flashes. First comes a startlingly clear impression of the villain's raised fist, then an explosion of stars, bright spots, and pain that explode in your vision, and then you feel yourself crumple to the ground for a second time, unconscious, as the room appears to swim around. The villain mutters something in annoyance, and then runs off in small steps, holding himself as if he badly needs to go to the bathroom.
As the world moves around you in hazy, moving shapes, the last things you're able to note are Invisigal's shocked face looking at you from behind the glass, and then a large man who runs onto the scene, surveying you with concern, before he spots her and his expression turns angry. You miss the start of their argument as the exhaustion of the whole situation finally overtakes you and you black out.
a/n: still can't believe that they put herm on a train. poor man
I was actually about to write up an announcement, I hope you don't mind if I just... Do it here? It's... Kind of important... Sort of XD!!
Alright, so as everybody knows, I lost... Around a week. The Valentine morguecritter asks really piled up while I didn't have internet, and I stayed up pretty late last night (until around 2am?) answering the ones that were there, and scheduling them. It's all taken care of, it was a shitload of work XD!!
However, because of the week I lost, we're getting a late start... All of the asks will still be posted? But we're going to have Valentine's day extend a couple extra days, that's all XD!! Also, they're staggered very weirdly. It was part of the reason it look so long last night, trying to figure out how to place them so the alternating pattern wouldn't get disrupted.
I'll try to explain.
We ended up with 10 asks in total, and as I'd decided in advance, I would only be scheduling one Valentine post per day (in addition to the normal one that would post from the queue). Instead of just flooding the place and ending up with every single special post in one afternoon/evening, I decided I'd arrange them with the scheduler, trying to maintain the Nagito/Keech/Nagito/Keech pattern as much as I could. Posts that were addressed to both of them are wildcards, but I still wanted to keep it evenly distributed.
Luckily, we didn't have any unmatched Valentine asks. Excellent!
The time when they'll post will be odd, though.
The queued ones will still show up at 12 (central), as usual. However, to maintain their arrangement, the Valentine messages will post at either 10am, or 2pm. It's very difficult to explain how I want, just... They all will be posted in either the late morning, or early afternoon. Paired ones will be posted close together (which is why I chose those times; posting them before or after the queued one, in order to preserve their order), it was an ordeal XD!!
I guess the main thing to note is that we're going to have Valentine posts until... I believe the 17th? Which is fine, I even said before that if we had any extras, I would just post them after. Nothing got deleted or ignored, and we have some extremely good ones waiting to share with everybody~
(I'll also post this into morguecritter, since the announcement has the most to do with it, sorry for everybody who will see this twice in a row XD!!)
e: Oh! This doesn't pertain to morguecritter so I won't need to reblog this updated version over there: I'll be posting the other two things I wrote while I was away on the upcoming Fridays. There's two more and I figured I'd space them out instead of just overwhelming everybody XD!!
happy birthday, elenion silverdew 💙✨ the wandering star of the sword coast, gale's guiding star, former traveling celebrity bard and current head curator of the starlit gallery (yes, that's the name of the museum he opens in waterdeep), and the star that my entire world might as well revolve around now!!
unfortunately i didn't take this photo for his birthday, it's just a random little photo that i hadn't bothered to post on here yet but this is one of my favorite outfits to give him and i want to show it off more. i rambled a lot after this so: i'll just say i love him so so much he's the prettiest boy in the world and the specialest guy of all time to me <3 and now i'll put the rest of the post under a cut for anyone who cares!
i really regret not actually making anything for elenion's birthday, but i have been mentally all over the place (even more so than usual, lol) for a long time now and inspiration never seems to strike when i need it to. i've been too focused on the fic i've been slowly writing which to be fair, is about him and gale but it has nothing to do with his birthday. i'm sure gale gives him tons of love on every single birthday, though!! and so does the rest of the unlikely group of friends he made on his journey.
before, he would go out and dance and drink and party but it would all be empty, even if it didn't feel like it at the time, because it was just him turning his birthday into a spectacle for fans and "friends" and countless people who he never allowed to actually know him. so it's very important to me that he has real friends who know him and love him now, and he makes an effort to stay in touch with all of them. in his canon story the companions are basically all just besties for life because i'm a big sap and i don't care if it's unrealistic or saccharine. listen, i'm a fan of disney-style romances and cheesy found family stories so everything i write is going to be influenced by that, what else can i say? but they definitely can't always physically meet up for every single person's birthday. so sometimes lae'zel is sending him a brief but heartfelt letter tucked alongside a weird artifact she picked up off the ground in one of vlaakith's strongholds halfway across faerun and halsin is sending him a cute little wooden owl carving because he's too busy taking care of the kids in reithwin to visit but he knows elenion likes birds, and they don't get to actually see each other for a while, but at least they thought about him and that's more than enough.
god i'm rambling way too much here 😭anyway it would've been fun to take some silly photos of one of those birthdays where all of the tadfools are able to meet up and they can all hang out and celebrate len as a person instead of The Wandering Star as a bard, but... i didn't do that lol. i guess i could do it later, because time is an illusion and he's not real anyway. he is real in my heart, though 💙
i have never gotten anywhere near as attached to an OC i made as i am to elenion. it feels weird to be genuinely obsessed with a character i created because that forces me to confront the fact that apparently not everything i make and every idea i come up with is terrible... idk where i'm going with this post. i need to stop. i just love elenion and i'm so glad i started posting about him on here and developing him further. i have a birthday queue that'll start posting later that's just full of all the art i've gotten and some other posts i love, so i apologize in advance for being extra annoying today!
Hello! I hope you have a lovely day. I want to start knitting, and the pieces you posted are incredible it just gave me a rush of motivation. (especially after seeing your sweater but I’m assuming that it’d be too hard to knit in my case as I’ve like zero experience…) Do you have any advice for beginners? Or any recommendations on what to try out first…?
thank you so much! 🤍 i’m so happy it’s had this effect, that’s literally the best thing i could hope for :’) this might become a bit long so apologies in advance
honestly with the 0 experience thing… the first thing i knitted when i got back into it a few months ago was a chunky sweater and i had 0 previous experience with anything that “complex”. the louvre sweater is my third sweater so i think it’s realistic to have that ambition already!
i learned basic knit and purl stitches a long time ago when i was 16 bc a friend taught me, but that was all. i’d recommend starting there too if you’re completely new to knitting - verypink knits on youtube is an excellent reference as she explains / demonstrates everything in such a concise way. i find a lot of written explanations and video tutorials can be too superfluous and unhelpful… i do have adhd and autism though so prefer blunt types of communication lmao. she has a playlist called “knitting basics” which shows you how to cast on and knit / purl. another good source is brooklyn tweed, but they cover slightly more advanced techniques that would come a little later
i’d recommend choosing a ball or two of yarn you like the feel and colour of and the needle size it recommends on the packaging. that’s all you really need at first! you’ll want to knit and purl until you can make neat stitches with even tension. it’s a good idea to also watch a couple of videos on how to fix mistakes (twisted or dropped stitches etc) bc this knowledge is important whether you’re a beginner or super advanced
from there the journey kind of becomes personal to you… the first project you try is better being something that really draws you in and makes you feel excited to knit and learn. it can be something simple like a long straight scarf, or you might want to try a sweater or even some fancy lacework! a good place to start with patterns is the drops website bc they are free and they have some really beautiful designs (some of which are in my queue!). their design pages also have tabs within the page that have video instructions, so everything you need to know is in one place. i picked this design bc it was chunky and reasonably uncomplicated. i worked through problems as i encountered them and ended up with a really cute vest (i did a simple rib on the armholes instead of sleeves bc i liked how it looked on me)
if you find a pattern you like you can read through the whole thing first to get used to the terminology and practice on scrap yarn any techniques you’re not sure about (increases, rib etc). i do this even now bc i like to avoid frustration after casting on and i keep going for increasingly complex designs
knitting is such a joyful and fruitful craft and although it can initially feel quite overwhelming, it’s sooo rewarding. the biggest help will be to apply the ways you know you learn best to the process. like, i know i have terrible working memory so i write things like how to make an increase on flash cards and keep them next to me. i prefer to keep track of rows / progress by writing them down as tally charts in a notebook bc i misplace things frequently and those little clicky row counters wouldn’t be helpful in that sense. i like wooden needles bc i get ill often with swollen hands and it hurts to hold cold metal etc. it’s really about you - everything can be adapted to you so the process and the items you make are uniquely yours
sorry for all the yapping, i hope at least some of this is helpful and hasn’t entirely put you off :’) if you have any other questions or need specific recommendations (needles, yarn brands, books etc) i will also happily help with that 🤍
While his sight may have been fuzzy and blurry before, now Rain saw everything with perfect clarity.
The pendulum of fate swings closer.
You're welcome/sorry in advance xx
Chapter rating: M
Content warnings: vomiting/illness, recreational drug use, alcohol
Words: 12,385
Link to full fic with associated tags: Tumblr | AO3
Tag list: @cosmicseafoam @ashthewaterghoul @jimothybarnes @zombiequeen777 @kentuckyfriedsatan @papaslittlesunshine @bloodfin <33 if I forgot anyone or you want out lmk!!
Read below, or on AO3!
⋆𝒬.˚₊☽☆.⟡ 𝒬 ⟡.☆☾₊˚.𝒬⋆
This time, the tour had started in North America. Nobody had thought to warn Copia that his new ghouls might need some extra supervision while travelling however, and so Aether had found himself slipping back into his role of leading the pack through the loud and hectic environment. Rather than taking on the duty of watching all four new ghouls, having found that difficult enough on the last tour, he had instead assigned Dew and Mountain to each guide a new ghoul. Not to babysit them as Dew had scoffed, but rather just to keep an eye on them and hopefully avoid any sort of scene.
As Rain seemed the least likely to bite a security guard, Aether had told him to stick with Mountain. The largest ghoul of the pack didn’t cope particularly well with the noise and bustle of the airport himself, so hopefully it would not be too difficult of a task to guide the similarly quiet water ghoul around. With Dew being the biggest flight risk of the group, Aether had wanted to keep an eye on him directly. However, the fire ghoul had adamantly declared that he was capable of behaving, not wanting to lose out on a chance to demonstrate his seniority and knowledge of the human world, so Aether had paired him with Swiss; at least then he could keep and eye on both of them at once. That only left Cirrus and Cumulus, who he hoped would be at least somewhat easier to deal with if they were anything like Zephyr had been when it came to air travel.
Of course, his carefully laid plans soon collapsed. Mountain had almost immediately disappeared without Rain after leaving the security queue, muttering that he would meet them at the gate and vanishing into the crowd, leaving Aether to wonder how such a tall ghoul could manage to blend in so well. Swiss and Dew had also started bickering as soon as they entered the terminal, their previous arguments behind them now and giving way to the more good natured quibbling Aether had grown used to hearing between Dew and Ifrit. The almost nostalgic memory made him smile, before he quickly had to jump between the pair as a security guard glanced over at the commotion.
The ghoulettes were indeed the easier charges, once they were at the gate, at least. Before then though they had become a little too interested in the myriad of new faces everywhere, and were not being particularly subtle in the way they pointed out and twittered to each other about the humans that caught their eye. After he had had to step in to stop Cumulus flirting with the scowling staff member beckoning them through the metal detector, he was really regretting not making Copia look after his precious lionesses himself.
“I was just gonna ask if that was a gun or if he was happy to see me?” Cumulus pouted, as Aether escorted her to the conveyor belt to collect their bags with a fixed smile on his face.
“What movie did you see that in, then?” Aether asked, trying his best to distract her until they were out of earshot of the security personnel.
“I don’t know; it was on some TV channel with a really high number?” She hummed, still too loudly for Aether’s liking. “I think it was a romance movie? Although they didn’t really talk much after that…”
“…it wasn’t a gun in his pants though was it.” Cirrus chimed in. “It was his–”
“Okay!” Aether interrupted, feeling his eye beginning to twitch. “That’s enough of that. The movies on those channels aren’t accurate to real life, okay? They’re all a fantasy. A lot of the things in them would get you arrested if you tried them here.”
“Aww but the police officers are always so friendly–”
“–and handsome too!”
Along with his eye, Aether felt the vein on his forehead begin to pulse. Why had he thought the ghoulettes would be the easy ones to look after?
“Just… forget everything you think you know about security guards, police officers, the fire brigade and plumbers.” He said through gritted teeth. “And pizza delivery drivers.”
Behind him he could sense Cumulus pouting.
“What about–”
Aether cut Cirrus off before she could finish her question.
“And pilots. And flight attendants. All humans, really.”
Why couldn’t they have just liked rom-coms like Rain did, Aether lamented to himself.
At the gate, he had collapsed into a chair, exhausted already. There they had found Mountain pacing, stretching his legs while he could, travel pillow already round his neck and headphones – stolen from the band room, along with their adapter to the beaten up cell phone Copia had found for each of them – tightly over his ears. Aether closed his eyes, and tried not to listen to the continued noise of his pack.
Relaxing seemed impossible though, even once Swiss had eventually had enough of Dew’s detailed descriptions of all the things that could go wrong with the aeroplane and wandered off to people-watch with the ghoulettes. Instead, he could hear Rain talking to Dew politely and quietly, like… normal people. It awakened something almost possessive within him, something he hadn’t felt in a while and couldn’t understand the reason behind.
He knew that recently he had been finding excuses to stick closer to Dew, draping himself over the fire ghoul much like he had around the time they first got together, but he thought that he had just been a response to all of the other changes happening within the pack and the Abbey. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for the jealous twinge that lingered when he heard Dew and Rain’s voices blend. Dew was explaining something relatively uninteresting, Aether thought it was about the route of the tour given that he had heard several place names pass between them now, and yet even something so simple set him on edge in a way he didn’t like. It was something he had felt it a lot recently, ever since the meaning of the words in Dew’s outburst had clicked for him.
Aether hadn’t been paying much attention – if any – to Rain’s mark at his summoning, too distracted by Dew’s sudden disappearance, but the rumour making its way back to him was that Dew had said the very words that looped across his chest. He hadn’t sensed anything between the pair at the time that would indicate they were mates, not like the intense burst of euphoria he had felt almost knock him backwards at Zephyr’s summoning, but then would that have even happened in the first place if neither of them realised what had passed between them? Dew had seemed so cut up about it in the aftermath, could that mean anything?
He had always known it was a possibility that he would lose Dewdrop to the ghoul that fate had promised him to. More than known, he thought to himself; rather it was the fear that held the sharpest grip on his heart. Aether wished he had paid more attention to Dew’s soul mark now, but the fire ghoul had always held such revulsion around them that at his request, Aether hadn’t lingered to study them too closely. All he could say was that both Dew and Rain’s blue markings appeared to be a similar colour, as far as he could tell against their contrasting ghoulish skin.
Maybe it was all a misunderstanding though, spurred on by over enthusiastic gossip. Whatever the case was, it didn’t seem to be bothering Dewdrop anymore since he and Rain had talked properly; instead he was acting more similarly to how he had before Terzo’s removal than ever. Aether had to hope that whatever it was would pass. Still, in the meantime he found it helpful to not suppress his clingier urges, sticking close to or draping himself over Dew whenever he could.
When they eventually queued up to board the plane Aether did just that, folding himself over the shorter fire ghoul, his armpits resting on Dew’s shoulders. However, he didn’t get to enjoy the closeness for long before Dew started up on his chattering about all the things that could go wrong with the plane again. Swiss looked like he was only staying in the queue because of Rain’s hand in his and Mountain’s presence behind him, but was debating making a run back up the air bridge regardless.
Aether started to regret zoning out at the gate; he had vaguely heard Dew delighting in winding Swiss up as they stared at the flying metal vehicles out the window, but had tuned them out now that Rain wasn’t the ghoul he was talking to. It was all very well and good that Dew seemed to have finally found a cure to his own fear of flying, but it was not ideal that he seemed to have achieved that only by transferring it to his packmate.
He sighed heavily.
Sensing that things might be about to take a turn for the chaotic, Aether was taking no chances: both ghouls were getting a hefty dose of quintessence, whether they liked it or not.
“Give me some of that good stuff, Aeth.” Mountain murmured beside him as Dew suddenly went limp, falling back to lean against Aether’s chest.
Oops, perhaps he had been a bit heavy handed there. Aether laid a hand on Mountain’s back, focussing on channelling his energy into his shoulders and hips as well. The tall ghoul always hurt after a long flight.
Unlike Terzo, Copia had chosen to sit with his ghouls, claiming it was because he didn’t know any of the other humans well enough to sit with them. It was a bit sad really, they all thought. For the sake of his own sanity, Aether strategically placed Dew, completely zooted out of his mind on quintessence, beside him. There were many worse seat partners than a suddenly very quiet and affectionate fire ghoul.
Dew napped for most of the flight, eventually falling sideways to lean first on Copia’s shoulder, and then slump down to rest his head in the man’s lap. Slightly confused at first, Copia had quickly realised that the vibrating he could feel was the sleeping ghoul purring, and he found himself reaching absently with a hand to pet at his hair like a cat. Even now, he found that he didn’t still really understand his ghouls, but he didn’t think he needed to in order to explain the growing affection he felt for them and the way they had accepted him so quickly, every day.
Behind them, the other ghouls had a mostly uneventful flight. The ghoulettes were indeed more than content to stare out the window for most of the flight, just as Zephyr had been. Swiss had calmed down once Dew was no longer trying to make him anxious about the flight and with the help of yet more quintessence, while Mountain had once again been happy to stretch his legs as far into the aisle as he reasonably could and sleep on his travel pillow. Rain hadn’t shown any real trepidation about the experience, either before or during the flight. Aether had already noticed that he seemed to have relied heavily on the human television and movies scattered around the Den to learn about the world he was now in, and this was apparently now paying off as he took the experience of flying in his stride as easily as the other human passengers around them did.
Thankfully, he seemed not to have watched the same channels as the ghoulettes, rendering him less of a menace to polite society. Rain seemed to be having quite a good time in fact, poking through the in-flight entertainment panel and looking out the window at the clouds beneath them. With both Swiss and Mountain asleep or well on the way there, Aether had quietly switched places for Rain to have fun with the ghoulettes, and so he could keep an eye on Swiss when the quintessence wore off and the multi ghoul suddenly realised he was thirty thousand feet up in the air.
Dew was significantly less sweet when he was woken up for landing, hair mussed up from Copia’s attention, spitting and baring blunted teeth at the gloved hand shaking him gently awake. The Cardinal must have had plenty of experience dodging nips from his rats, because he masterfully had Dew back upright in his seat with his belt on, all without casualty. Aether’s quintessence was wearing off now, but the man’s calming aura somehow had Dew staying quietly in his seat, only fidgeting slightly, all the way through landing and until they were safely at the gate.
Once they were all released from the flying tin can and had their feet safely back on solid ground, everyone was soon in better spirits, despite the time change. The first ritual was something to look forward to, both for the ghouls returning to the stage and for the newer ones and their leader who would be experiencing the fervent audiences for the first time.
That didn’t mean everyone was behaving now, however. Instead of Dew trying to scare Swiss, the multi ghoul had switched to making fun of sleeping beauty. Rain and Aether had watched on with good-natured eye rolls, until the quintessence ghoul had been pulled away by a sudden and pressing urge to add border agents to the list of professions that the ghoulettes should not assume they had an accurate impression of.
As was evident from their bickering all day and now all night, after Swiss had laid into Dew about the incident with Rain he had seemingly got most of his anger out of his system. His relationship with Dew had built back up to almost what it had been before in barely a week. It certainly helped that Dew was clearly sorry and that Rain seemed to have forgiven him, to the point where he even seemed to be trying to befriend the prickly fire ghoul himself. The two were still by no means close, but they were working on it, and that was enough to relieve Swiss of most of his anger. It wasn’t an emotion he entertained often, and not one he enjoyed, so the whole pack were beyond relieved to see that the worst seemed to be behind them all.
༻△⋆₊˚.⛤△⛤.˚₊⋆△༺
The tour swiftly got off to a solid start, with the ghouls quickly settling into a larger tour bus than the last one. Dew realised happily that he had more belongings to stash this time, more material connections to tie him to the strange and noisy world topside. Still packed carefully between folded t-shirts though was Zephyr’s charcoal drawing; a carefully framed reminder of the love amongst his pack that nothing, not even the great distance between the surface and the Pit, could erase.
As before, they had their leader joining them on their bus. This time however the layout of the bus didn’t lend itself to Copia having his own space as had been the case with Terzo, and so he was stuck in a bunk like the rest of them. There had been space on the bus that held the siblings and instrument techs, Dew knew, but yet here the man was, setting up his ground floor bunk quite happily. Dew wasn’t sure if that was because he seemed more at ease with the ghouls than with any of the humans coming with them, or if he had been assigned to join the ghouls as some kind of hazing ritual carried out by the more vindictive members of the Clergy.
Either way, the ghouls had silently agreed to give him as much space as the bus would allow, leaving the middle bunk empty and with Cirrus nominally taking the top bunk above him, but knowing she would spend every night squeezed in beside Cumulus slightly further down the bus and on the opposite side of the aisle. Beneath them, Rain and Swiss filled what had once been Ifrit and Zephyr’s bunks while Mountain, Dew and Aether had gravitated to their original stack directly opposite them. Dew likewise expected to spend most of his time tucked in tightly beside Aether. They all hoped that Copia’s affection for them wouldn’t wane without a door to close on them from time to time as Terzo had done. Luckily it was only a short tour.
Any doubts Dew may have had about the new front-man and their new band mates soon evaporated the moment he stepped out on stage. It was as though they had been doing this for years already. Likewise, any worries he had had that it might feel too different now that he was playing a different instrument were soon also left far behind. He and Aether really were born to perform: their whole act was dialled up to eleven now, the pair’s physical comedy getting bigger as the venues they played did too.
The new masks and outfits also made Dew feel more spry, darting here and there about the stage, purposefully getting in Aether’s way at times. Even the mouth holes in his new mask swiftly gained a new use too, with Dew leering down at the audience as he licked the neck of his guitar, cackling as they screamed at his antics.
He still missed Ifrit though; despite the fun he was having with Aether, he couldn’t help but miss running around with taller fire ghoul, the pair sparring like stags while sporting matching grins beneath their masks.
Both Dew and Rain had worked hard for their relationship to get outwardly better; it wouldn’t do for there to be a clear divide between two of the ghouls on stage. For Copia’s sake, they had been playing nice, agreeing on some small interactions, moments where they played facing each other or doing synchronised choreography.
Rain had been the most unsure about playing for an audience for a while now, the disastrous Abbey Performance hardly helping in that regard. Dew had made sure to reassure him that a real audience was different though, was something special in a way no rehearsal could ever be. They would grant him the confidence to enthral them, to be the ghoul he had been summoned to be. From the way he was growing more confident with every second he spent on stage, it seemed abundantly clear that Dew’s words had rung true.
Dew and Aether’s stage chemistry remained unmatched though, both from Copia and the audience’s point of view, so Rain had ended up spending a lot of his time lurking up on the drum riser interacting with Mountain. It had the side effect of making him more visible to those further back in their crowds, and so the new water ghoul soon had his own legion of fans. Dew didn’t begrudge him a single one, too pleased that his temper and volatile emotions didn’t appear to have had a lasting impact on the ghoul’s confidence or ability to serve as a band ghoul.
It was clear that Rain gained a new wind of confidence when playing, catching the same showmanship bug that Dew had also been struck with. It was a strange sight to behold to the others, watching him stand around awkwardly like he had gotten lost and just wandered onto the stage while Copia talked, but flipping instantly into some kind of possessed being as soon as it came time to perform. He would hunch his lanky body over the bass, transforming entirely as he let the music and the howling crowd take over.
It was a side of Rain that most of the pack hadn’t seen so far, and a doubly transfixing one to those who stood behind him. Swiss had been the first to comment the night of their very first ritual, whistling as Rain bent down to take off his shoes off in the dressing room after.
“Are we getting a private show, Rainbow?” He said with a smirk, causing Rain to blush deeply.
“Who said anything about it being private?” Cirrus twittered.
“Yeah, we had a pretty good view out on stage already, don’t leave us out now!” Cumulus added with a purr.
If Rain hadn’t been glamoured, he would have been blushing indigo. Instead, he settled for turning an almost concerning shade of pink before grabbing his clothes and bolting for the bathroom to change.
He and Dew had come to a silent agreement about sharing the often lone bathroom in their dressing rooms, both keen to continue hiding their soul marks without drawing too much attention to that fact. When he emerged in loose jogging bottoms and a hoodie, the eyes of Dew and his changing packmates were still on him, but at least there was less for them to see: the line of his underwear was no longer visible through tight stage pants, for starters.
Dew recognised the urge to hide away all too well and felt a pang of sympathy for the water ghoul. Still, that didn’t stop him for recognising Rain’s most prominent assets the same way the rest of the pack did and being jealous of them too. Even the oversized pants – stolen from Swiss by the look of things – did nothing to hide his figure beneath them. He looked every inch the perfect ghoul, pure sin, plucked from the Pit to tempt their human audience into following Him.
Everything about the water ghoul made Dew acutely aware of each and every way in which he considered that he fell short of the expectations he held for himself, even down to Rain having a fire soul mark, regardless of its contents or its incongruity on his blue skin. Dew realised too late that he was staring, ripping his eyes away from the water ghoul to gather up his own casual clothes and head for the bathroom. Even if he was just staring out of envy or curiosity, it wouldn’t help with their slowly mending relationship for the water ghoul to catch him doing so.
“Rain is a pretty thing, isn’t he,” Aether murmured to Dew later that night as they squeezed into their bunk. “I never really noticed before. The confidence on stage suits him.”
From the tone in his voice, it almost sounded like he was testing Dew’s reaction for some reason, trying to gauge his opinion on the water ghoul. That wasn’t what stuck in the fire ghoul’s mind though. Instead, Dew felt the familiar prick of unworthiness that he had been working to tamp down inside himself boil up again.
Of course Rain looked good on stage with the bass – Dew’s old bass – he was a water ghoul summoned for the role after all, something Dew could never have been. More painfully though, it seemed like the one thing he thought he had over Rain might even be slipping away too: Aether’s attention. It wasn’t surprising, he told himself; he would have to be stupid not to notice their siren of a water ghoul packmate, so would Aether. After everything that had passed between them and the shaky ground they now stood on though, for Aether to bring it up felt almost pointed and all it did was serve to make Dew angry.
“So what if he is?” He grumbled, fighting to keep his tone even and his voice quiet enough not to disturb the rest of the pack before turning over to face the wall, his back to Aether.
Thankfully, the quintessence ghoul’s comment appeared to have been a throwaway one, Dew thought, or at least he hadn’t brought up the water ghoul again since. Instead he almost seemed to be more clingy to Dew than ever, especially in front of the rest of their pack. Dew suspected he was well aware of how his words had upset him and was trying to prove that his affections hadn’t strayed. Whatever the reason he appreciated it, but it couldn’t erase the constant feeling of comparison in his mind to Rain now he had made it.
Nor could he stop noticing the water ghoul himself now that he had stopped to really see him. The ghoul truly was one endless curve, even more so with the bass slung over his shoulder and further warping his posture. The bright stage lights highlighted every flex of muscle beneath his tight clothes, practically every divot in the skin beneath them too. Dew was almost positive he would be able to see the dimples of the scales that ran along some parts of his back and joints were he not glamoured.
He had to wonder who’s costume was tighter: Rain’s or Copia’s.
When they next lined up on the steps for Cirrus’ keytar solo, as they did every night, Dew was suddenly all too aware of his position just behind and below Rain. With one foot raised to the step above, Dew was almost exactly eye level with the ass that held his pack’s rapt attention. He tried not to think about it, to instead focus on the notes he was playing, but with the way Rain was swaying to the rhythm, it was impossible not to.
So what if he is hot? Dew told himself. It’s not like it changes anything.
He knew that was true, and yet his feelings of inadequacy remained. Underneath them lurked something else too, something deeper that he couldn’t quite place, some part that stopped him from ever truly looking away.
Dew was finally distracted during their bows however. Aether almost always made a point of interacting with him during them somehow, giving the audience one final glimpse of them bickering or otherwise berking around while they threw out picks and set lists to the forest of arms reaching for them. Today though, he seemed to have other plans.
Stood on a riser, in the middle of a back-and-forth with a fan waving a sign at him, Dew was pretending to toss them a pick and faking out at the last second. It wasn’t an uncommon action, in fact it was something many had come to expect. What Dew hadn’t expected though was what happened after he sensed the larger quintessence ghoul slinking up behind him.
Expecting him to maybe throw an arm around his waist or affectionately bump heads when he climbed down again before going to greet the audience himself, Dew thought nothing of it, continuing his teasing with a second pick now. That was until he felt a hand on his back and heard a noise that could only be described as a snarl.
The next thing Dew was aware of he was falling backwards, pulled by a single hand gripping the back of his suspenders. His legs gave out beneath him and he found himself held tightly against Aether’s chest, feet barely touching the ground. Dew regained his awareness of his surroundings just enough to hear the crowd scream louder, and he haphazardly tossed the pick in their general direction before letting Aether walk him backwards, both hands now firmly around his waist.
Dew tried to focus on not losing his footing rather than on how far around him both of the quintessence ghouls huge palms could reach. Across the stage he could see Mountain shake his head good-naturedly at their antics, clearly not surprised at the sight, but what really caught Dew’s eye was Rain, stood stock still, watching them.
He paid it no mind however. Likewise, he ignored the clap on the shoulder from Swiss that followed as they gathered for their final bows, instead focussing on the heat now pulsing under his skin and following the trails of the suspenders over his shoulders where they had pulled taut against him. Aether was about to be glad they had a hotel room for the night. Possibly not as glad as their Cardinal would be, though; their bunk curtains were not known for their soundproofing.
“Keep them on.” Dew whispered to Aether back in the dressing room, punctuating his words with a light snap of the elastic against the quintessence ghouls chest, before strutting into the bathroom to change himself.
After his confusing thoughts earlier, this was the perfect distraction that Dew hadn’t known he had needed. The whole way back to the hotel he had sensed Aether practically vibrating as he sat silently in his seat beside him, the waves of arousal and anticipation rolling off him palpable to the rest of their pack who were studiously keeping their distance. His comments about Rain had set Dew’s nerves jangling, and so it was deeply reassuring to know that the quintessence ghoul’s attention was still primarily his to hold.
True to his word, Aether hadn’t taken off the suspenders. Even as he sat in joggers and a baggy black hoodie, Dew knew what lay beneath them, could see the clips peeking out on one side where his hoodie had bunched up, and could only imagine in glee just how acutely Aether must be feeling the press of the elastic right about now. Whatever Aether’s reasoning for his recent bout of clinginess was, Dew was sure it was something that it wouldn’t hurt to feed into with a little physical reminder.
Dew could feel violet eyes burning a hole in the side of his head while he studiously ignored Aether in favour of chatting far too politely with a totally unaware Copia. His hand rested faux-casually on the quintessence ghoul’s thigh, and he felt his whole body twitch as he squeezed slightly, inching his fingers fractionally higher just to feel him tremble once more. If Aether wanted to pull him about on stage like he had earlier, Dew was going to match his energy tenfold.
“You alright there, Aeth?” He paused his discussion of possible opt-ups in their set with Copia to smile sweetly at the ghoul beside him, batting his eyelashes in the way that always made him melt.
“Just leftover adrenaline from the show,” he stuttered out, “I’m good.”
“Not long until the hotel now, my ghoul,” Copia said sympathetically, “I’m looking forward to my bed as much as you are, I bet!”
Dew hid a smirk behind a fake yawn of his own.
Aether continued to try his best to maintain a casual facade all the way through exchanging goodnights in the lobby and discussing the meeting time for the following morning. Even though he stood still and straight, Dew could feel the way the air around him shimmered with quintessence. Rather than prolonging his misery by engaging anyone else in conversation, he took pity on Aether as he finally led him up to their room by the hand. While a little of his motivation had been payback for the embarrassment Aether had caused him on stage, he didn’t want to push him too far, even if they had gotten up to far worse in the past.
“Ready to finish what you started on stage?” Dew smirked as he locked the door behind them, slinking forward to press a single burning finger to the middle of Aether’s chest.
The nod he received in return was so vigorous it seemed as though every one of Aether’s neurons had fired simultaneously in agreement. With feather-light pressure, Dew walked the quintessence ghoul backwards until his backs of his knees hit the bed and he fell back onto it with a gasp.
“Since you seem to like playing with our suspenders so much,” Dew twirled a single hoodie string around his finger now as he leaned in close, causing Aether’s breath to stutter in his throat, “you won’t mind if I spend a while seeing what’s so interesting about them myself?”
From his position atop the back of Aether’s thighs a fair while later, Dew chose to ignore how all intentions of subtlety seemed to have left both ghouls far behind. The snapping sound of elastic against skin echoed loudly around the hotel room and undoubtedly down the corridor, chased by Aether’s resulting groans, but Dew couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Much like Terzo had, Copia seemed to be trying his best to accommodate his ghouls’ interests on their days off. From stopping to make sure Dew got to try both Chicago and New York style pizza, to arranging the bus to drop them near a hiking trail for Mountain to wander off into the forest, he was diligent in trying to find something for everyone. For Rain it had been simple; they would go to the coast. Dew had known what to expect this time, opting to go off separately with Aether before he even caught a glimpse of the terrifying mass of water that was the ocean.
With his orca hat jammed down tight over his ears against the bright sunshine, Dew had led Aether through the warm streets of the seaside town they found themselves in, following the scent of fried food and sugar until he found an ice cream shop. Once day he would try to conquer his fear of the sea, he told himself, but for now this kind of beach day was so much more fun. Laughing at Aether when he got chocolate on the end of his nose before promptly doing the same thing to himself gave him a feeling of levity that he had been missing as of late. Something about the brisk sea air refreshed him, washing away many of the stresses that had been following him.
Dew couldn’t even find it in himself to be frustrated when they met back up for dinner and saw Rain wearing a nearly identical hat to him, only this one was blue with a shark embroidered on the front. Instead, he found himself oddly endeared by the way the water ghoul had refused to take it off and had continued to wear a delighted smile throughout the entire meal. After all he had put him through, it made Dew happier than he had expected to see the water ghoul also getting to enjoy all of the high points of touring.
That feeling didn’t even fade when Rain had outright trilled in delight, a distinctly un-human sound, when a mountain of seafood was delivered to their table. He had set about using his strategically unglamoured claws as crab-like pincers to dissect the pile of shellfish in front of him. A few months ago Dew was sure he would have scoffed at his overtly ghoulish behaviour, rolling his eyes and making some snide comment.
Now though he found himself watching the water ghoul chirping happily as he uncovered new morsels and popped them delicately into his mouth with a strange fondness. His delight at something that must have been so familiar to him in the Pit and yet now rendered him a fish out of water must have been infectious, because Dew saw his own small smile mirrored on the faces of almost everyone around him.
“Having fun there, Rainbow?” Swiss chuckled from beside Rain.
His laugh only grew stronger when the water ghoul’s eyes flickered up to him in a hurry, pupils blown having clearly forgotten his surroundings until that moment. He nodded quickly, glancing down at the pile of decimated crab parts on his plate before holding an uneaten leg out to Swiss in silent offering.
“No no, you have it.”
Dew told himself that he shouldn’t be jealous of their sweet interaction. After all, there was clearly something between Swiss and Rain, something the pair of them both deserved, and after all he had put Rain through he didn’t deserve his bitterness and misplaced envy barrelling in to ruin everything.
He easily scraped another mussel free of its shell with his own claw, before dousing it in the peppery sauce that had made Copia cough and splutter and tossing it into his mouth. Rain really was onto something here with his continued avoidance of human cutlery, he thought. Their claws were perfect for this.
Perhaps Copia was trying a little too hard to make sure his ghouls were having fun and not putting enough thought into his own well-being, because it wasn’t long before the stresses of the tour seemed to be getting to him. Dew had been able to tell for the last few rituals now that he was getting tired, all of his energy going into their nightly performances leaving him more and more exhausted after each one was finished.
It all spilled over one ritual when Copia had a string of missteps after another. First of all he had forgotten the words – not that uncommon for him, but he hadn’t recovered as quickly as normal – and then he had dropped his microphone. When he mistakenly cut short one of his chats with the audience, leaving the ghouls scrambling back into position sooner than planned, Dew knew he needed to step in.
From the slump in his posture and the way his shoulders began inching up towards his ears, it was clear that the Cardinal was swiftly getting overwhelmed. Dew made a beeline for him, still playing all the notes, to check in and offer a much needed distraction. Sensing his approach, Copia turned to face Dew with a pleasantly surprised smile. As he switched from singing into the unknowable void of the auditorium to singing to his ghoul, Dew saw him relax at last, the change visible in every fibre of his body. Pleased with the effect he was having, Dew sidestepped closer before laying his head on Copia’s shoulder.
The shake of laughter was clear in the Cardinal’s voice as he stretched out an arm to hug the ghoul, before reaching up to pat him on the side of the head as Dew pretended to nuzzle at him like a cat. After everything with his pack, Dew was glad he was at least able to provide comfort to someone, rather than just proliferating unease and distrust amongst his fellow ghouls.
During the bows, he once again headed straight for the Cardinal, wrapping his arms around his waist. Not having to camouflage his delight and keep singing now, Copia made a big show of pulling him in for a proper hug, pressing a kiss to the side of his mask as the audience screamed their goodbyes.
“Thank you, my ghoul.” He whispered against Dew’s balaclava, in the approximate place where he thought the ghoul’s ear must be.
After that, Dew made a point of wandering up to him during rituals. It was something the Cardinal appreciated more than he could ever let on with words alone, yet which his actions and posture screamed in gratitude for.
Dew was never fully able to accept any growth in his character that his more thoughtful actions might suggest though, always finding himself more caught up in his shortcomings. They weren’t even always intentional, but he every time he saw Cirrus frown slightly and Cumulus bite her lip at something he said, or heard Rain fall quiet at his presence, he couldn't help but feel like he was continuing to let his pack down.
He felt it again more acutely than ever on another of their hotel nights. Mountain and Swiss had found that Ifrit’s favourite herb was sold freely in the city they were in for the night, and had invited him to join them on the small balcony attached to their room for a smoke after the ritual. Dew had in turn reflexively asked Aether to join too. They had known there was no point in asking Cumulus or Cirrus; much like Zephyr, they had shown no interest in smoking. Dew assumed it must be an air ghoul thing.
It was only once the four were assembled that Dew realised the only ghoul not invited was Rain. An intense feeling of guilt coursed through him knowing the water ghoul was just down the corridor, presumably all alone. Dew couldn’t help but think of how that must feel for him, and once the thought had entered his head it wouldn’t leave him alone. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much – he hadn’t deliberately tried to leave Rain out – and yet it continued to haunt him, even as Aether wrapped a heavy arm around him and sent him a questioning look through slightly squinting, red-rimmed eyes.
“Rain’s not here.” Dew said quietly by way of an answer. “Shouldn’t someone go ask if he wants to join too?”
Aether only shrugged, dismissing Dew’s suggestion. It was a strangely callous response for the normally empathetic quintessence ghoul, so Dew supposed he must be overreacting, or at least overcompensating for his earlier behaviour towards the water ghoul, perhaps.
He took another drag of the slightly sweet smoke and tried to distract himself by leaning back against Aether’s chest. The quintessence ghoul, already three sheets to the wind, greedily held him tighter, squeezing him in that way that made Dew feel slightly feral with how much he liked it. The tiny tinge of fear that came with knowing Aether was so much physically stronger than he let on lit the fire that simmered deep in his gut, warming him from the inside out.
Despite his lack of sobriety, Aether’s move seemed calculated, like he knew exactly what he did to Dew. Whatever the reason, it was enough to bring Dew’s mind back to the ghoul behind him and the contrast of hot smoke with cool night air. They both know what having a hotel room for the night meant, and the anticipation alone was enough to take his mind off of Rain and the others entirely.
.▽⋆.*⛧༺▽༻⛧*.⋆▽.
Down the hallway, Rain was feeling strangely jealous. It wasn’t that he felt left out by the other ghouls necessarily – he wasn’t really interested in joining them anyway, and Cumulus had already given him an open invitation to join her and Cirrus for the evening – but more specifically that Dew was with them and not him.
Why was he feeling so possessive all of a sudden? And over the fire ghoul, to boot? He had less than zero claim on him and Dew still clearly disliked him, even if he was trying to make up for his past actions.
As he was settling in for an evening of stewing in his confusing and unwelcome feelings, a too-loud knock on the door startled him. The owner of the knuckles didn’t wait to be invited in, the door bursting open to reveal Cumulus in the doorway, hands on hips. Behind her hovered Cirrus, who at least had the grace to look slightly embarrassed of her mate’s unannounced entrance.
“Come on! Up!” The shorter ghoulette bustled in, scooping Rain off the bed by his armpits with surprising strength. “No sulking alone allowed!”
Rain wobbled as he landed on his feet, allowing himself to be dragged down the corridor and bundled into the ghoulettes’ room. To his pleasant surprise, they appeared to have already set up for a movie night, having ordered food from room service and hooked Aether’s laptop up to the hotel room television. The screen was paused on the opening scene of some fluffy rom-com they had all seen before, one that was among Rain’s favourites. Aether had a lot of that sort of movie saved, and Rain was glad they had chosen one of them rather than the more vulgar short films the ghoulettes had developed a strange fascination with.
“Didn’t you want to join the boys, Raincloud?” Cirrus asked, cracking open the hotel’s mini-fridge, which Copia had explicitly told them not to take anything from, and scooping out every single miniature alcohol inside.
“They didn’t ask.” Rain shook his head, hoping he sounded casual and unbothered, trying to ignore the glance that passed between the air ghoulettes. “How’d you know I wasn’t with them anyway?”
“Our balcony connects to theirs. We couldn't hear your voice.” Cirrus shrugged. “So we assumed.”
“You’ll have more fun with us, anyway!” Cumulus hopped up onto the bed and crawled to sit slightly behind him.
He knew what she wanted and swung his legs out in front of himself accordingly, letting Cumulus manhandle him until he was in the perfect position for her to braid his hair with a delighted trill. Her deft fingers were soon buried in his curls, mostly gently, but occasionally pulling slightly in impatience when they tangled in a particularly stubborn knot. Rain wondered if this was why Cirrus kept her own hair shorter, lest she become a permanent test subject. He couldn’t complain though; Rain not-so-secretly loved how both of them never failed to make him feel special, pretty even, and tonight was no exception.
The taller air ghoulette did eventually join them on the bed after placing three glasses full of a suspiciously-coloured concoction, that both looked and smelled like the entire contents of the minibar topped up with cola, on the end table within their reach. He had been right to join them, Rain thought, as Cirrus wound her tail around Cumulus’ and started the movie. The pair of them were so easy to feel relaxed around, their own little bubble effortlessly expanding to include him in a way that never made him feel pressured in any way.
They had worked out he wasn’t interested in having the sort of relationship with them that Swiss had quite quickly after he was summoned, but seemed just as delighted to spend time with him either way. They were a breath of fresh air, blowing away the cobwebs of confusion that had surrounded so much of his early days topside and that lingered even now.
Rain could sense that there was more to their requisition of him into their room than them simply not wanting him to be alone, but he refrained from saying anything about his feelings on the matter. He knew if he were to complain about feeling left out that Cirrus would make a bigger deal out of it than was necessary, and he didn’t particularly want either of their individual brands of sympathy to disrupt what had turned into a surprisingly fun evening. The alcohol made all of them find the inane human movie seem far more entertaining than it surely was, and Rain surprised himself with the sound of his own carefree laughter, something that had been a scarcity for far too much of his adult life.
Eventually Cumulus decided her art project was complete and released Rain, who was starting to fall asleep from the soothing motion of her fingers. Not long after, his yawns started to become contagious and he excused himself back to his own room, despite Cumulus and Cirrus’ protests that it was barely even late, and he could sleep over if he wanted to. The warmth that the ghoulettes had filled him with drained away all too quickly as he slipped beneath too-cold sheets, making him doubt his decision to leave. Rain wished even more that he had stayed when he began to hear noises through the wall his room shared with Dew and Aether’s.
Rain huffed to himself as he heard another breathy moan echo through the thin walls, punctuated by deep grunts that surely must belong to Aether. They must have turned in early too. He was certainly no stranger to hearing his pack in their more private moments – on the bus they all had a polite agreement that any noises made behind closed bunk curtains simply did not exist – but something tonight made his blood run sour in his veins. The jealous feeling from earlier returned with a vengeance, seeping its way into every turn of thought his mind tried to follow to escape it. It must be the alcohol, he reasoned; hearing the pair make far more lewd noises than these had never bothered him before.
You could have had this with Swiss, if you could just get over your stupid soul mark, his brain reminded him.
That was the final straw. Rain threw himself back out of bed and slouched to the bathroom, turning the bath taps on with enough force that the water splashed back up at him, soaking his pyjamas. He growled to himself as he hung them on the towel rail. Maybe it wasn’t Dew and Aether specifically that were annoying him; maybe he was just in a generally irritable mood as the bone-deep exhaustion of tour began to eat away at him.
Despite his tiredness, Rain took a long, long bath. Unglamoured at last, his fins could float freely in the warm water and his gills gratefully flared, gulping down oxygen after far too long trapped beneath suffocating human clothing. The feeling of stretching out, combined with the head rush the oxygen gave him, made Rain feel a little better. Hotels with bathtubs had been rare; he should’ve taken advantage of there being one here sooner. Tonight, it came with the added bonus of not having to listen to the noises coming through the wall, as the echo of gently splashing water off tiled walls drowned out all other sounds.
Rain let his mind drift as his limbs did in the water, questioning all that had been bothering him throughout the weeks of tour before attempting to set the thoughts free to float away by themselves. It had been a meditative process that worked for him in his darkest days in the Pit, and while it felt less effective now than it ever had before, he still appreciated the process.
Before too long his thoughts began to float off in a different direction, towards the ghoul that had held them in a vice grip as of late. Rain forced himself not to dwell on why exactly he was thinking about Dewdrop, the ghoul who had made it quite clear he could take or leave Rain as a packmate, and instead consider him more neutrally if he was going to think about him at all. It wasn’t hard; all facets of the fire ghoul apparently held equal fascination in Rain’s mind.
One thing that regularly leapt to the front though was Rain’s more recent attempts to emulate some of Dew’s milder behaviours on stage. He had hoped that he could start to curate his own exaggerated personality for the crowd to quickly identify him by, as the others seemed to have done. Dew was the obvious ghoul to copy in that regard; that was clearly why Rain’s mind had chosen to latch onto him as a role model. Whatever the reason though, the fire ghoul truly was a master of his craft topside, both in his proficiency with his instrument as well as his performance on-stage.
Rain’s own confidence under the bright lights had been slowly and steadily growing, helped along by the encouragement that only the appreciative screams of their audience could give, and yet he still wished he could transfer some of the assertiveness he found there into the rest of his life. He knew everyone’s stage persona was a greatly exaggerated one, even Dewdrop couldn’t manage to pull off his nameless ghoul character for long when he was alone with his pack, as much as it might sometimes seem like he was trying to. It was clear they shared some similarities though, so Rain had been considering what aspects of his own personality he could dial up for the crowds.
He didn’t think he could ever work up to the sheer level of bratty that was Dewdrop dragging his guitar across the stage by its neck at the end of a ritual, or really hope to take on any of his other gremlin-like behaviours – the time he had appeared behind a distracted Copia to leer at him with his tongue out and make the man jump came to mind – but he wanted to at least try. On the occasion that Dew loped up the stairs at the back of the stage he would often make a point of interacting with the ghoulettes, fist-bumping with Cirrus. Maybe Rain could start there; he already spent enough time hovering up there near Mountain.
Lost in his thoughts about future rituals, Rain didn’t realise how much time he had allowed to pass until the coldness of his bathwater pulled him back to reality. It was late by the time he reemerged into the bedroom, towelled off but still lacking dry pyjamas. Thankfully, it was also late enough that Dew and Aether seemed to have finally gone to sleep.
Alone under the cold and now uncomfortably rumpled sheets, Rain couldn’t stop himself from once again feeling the unpleasant prickling of guilt running along his spine, joining the existing green threads of jealousy. He had imposed upon Cirrus and Cumulus’ alone time for almost the entire evening. Even if they had been the ones to invite him in, Hell knew that they were probably just as keen for the night out of the bus as Dew and Aether had been.
A part of him debated going to find Swiss: no matter the situation, Rain knew that the multi ghoul would let him in without any questions or expectations. It really was late now though, late enough that Swiss would almost certainly be sound asleep, and the thought of disturbing yet another pack member with his problems felt like too much for Rain to bear.
Eventually his exhaustion won the battle against his racing mind though, and Rain fell into a dreamless, but not particularly restful, sleep.
With all the effort Rain had been putting into performing and the drastic change to his life that being topside in general had been, let alone taking the added stresses of touring into account, the water ghoul was also not faring well by the last few dates of the tour. With the final dates taking place back in Europe, Rain was also suffering the combined effects of jet-lag and dehydration from the flight. He had survived the first few recovery days only by reminding himself that he could finally count on his fingers the number of dates remaining. They all passed in a blur, one ritual blending into another as he threw all of his energy into the few hours when he was performing before crashing after the show, hard.
That was until two nights before their final ritual. It was their last hotel night and last free evening in the human world before they would be back at the Abbey for a while. It wasn’t that they would be trapped there once they were back, so much as that the inconvenience of leaving was enough to put even most siblings with driving licenses off of attempting it. With no ritual the following day and no bus call later that night, the humans and ghouls alike had all planned to make the most of the night. Rain however found himself in no fit state to leave the room, let alone go out drinking or partying or whatever Cirrus and Swiss had been enthusiastically plotting on the bus back to the hotel.
The human diet, particularly the often hectic and unhealthy one on busier tour days, was too alien for Rain to feel like eating much, and when he did he often found the food too salty and strange for it to sit well with him. He was positive he was missing some vital vitamins by now, only he had no idea what they were. The only thing that he felt could truly save him now was a long stint in the lake, except that was was still hundreds, or even thousands, of miles away.
Along with the various deficiencies he hadn’t been expecting, Rain also hadn’t expected to be so dehydrated. He was a water ghoul; he hadn’t even known that that was something that could happen to him. Rain almost felt like he was desiccating before his eyes; his scales starting to peel and his skin getting increasingly dry and itchy. He knew a bath would help, a rare as it was to have one while out on the road they had helped up until now, but he was struggling to find even the strength for that.
Even back at the Abbey Rain had struggled to adjust to needing to drink; it was something that just happened naturally in the watery part of his home in the Pit. He struggled with the physicality of it here, often dribbling down his chin and especially so with his unfamiliar human tongue. Often he still also forgot to drink entirely, not understanding the thirst his body felt even once he had moved past his initial embarrassment of drinking around the others. At least in the Abbey he had been able to absorb water through his skin and gills, spending untold hours in the lake, the bath, or even the shower.
Out on tour however he had been too shy to shower when there was any risk of the pack catching a look at his soul mark, the huge mar ruining his otherwise statuesque body, and often too tired to spend the hours in the shower back at the hotels that his body needed. He knew he should be taking better care of himself and asking for help when he struggled, but all of his packmates were tired too. They didn’t need to be worrying about him on top of their own concerns, so Rain would say he showered at the venue or in the tiny shower on the bus when pushed, depending on who asked.
“You look terrible.” Dew said bluntly, but not necessarily unkindly, as they gathered in the lobby.
Rain knew it already; he was slumped over the handle of his suitcase, looking like he was one small breeze away from falling onto the floor. Aether shot Dew a warning look as Rain’s lip curled slightly in protest, too weak to even muster a growl, before he rested the back of his hand to Rain’s clammy forehead, humming lowly as Rain felt the tell-tale prickle of quintessence probing around.
“You feel terrible too, actually.” Aether smiled wryly. “Have you drunk anything today? Did you shower?”
Rain shrugged slightly, just waiting for the moment he could collapse into bed.
“I think so?”
He had gotten so used to saying whatever he thought the right answer was to questions like that, but this time he sensed that Aether wasn’t going to fall for it. He had been on the receiving end of enough appraising looks from him to guess that the quintessence ghoul recognised his own behaviour as being similar to Dewdrop’s, particularly in his apparent reluctance to change near his packmates. He seemed to know better than to push Rain unnecessarily and to just pay a little more attention instead.
“You should stay in tonight,” Aether said firmly, “drinking and going out won’t make you any better. We need you in one piece, even if there is only one ritual left! Would you like me to–”
“I’ll be fine.” Rain interrupted. Having the pack gathered around muttering in sympathy was one thing, but spoiling any of their evenings by having one of them stay with him was another. “Go, have fun. I’ll take a bath, or something.”
Aether looked like he wanted to argue, but agreed with a sigh.
“Eat and drink something first at least? Please?”
“Okay.” Rain agreed quietly, hoping he could then finally slink off to his room and wallow in peace. He really should drink some water, have a proper bath, but he was so tired that all he wanted right now was a nap.
“Come on Rainbow! Let’s get some food into you, that’ll have you feeling better!” Swiss slung one arm around his waist, far more gently that usual, and took hold of Rain’s suitcase with the other. “When I’m not feeling well, I’m usually just hungry. A burger oughta do the trick; one with cheese and fried onions and dripping with–”
“Okay, we get it!” Snapped Dew.
He didn’t seem angry at Rain for derailing their evening like he would have expected though. In fact, Dew seemed almost pained by the sight of the sick water ghoul, if the empathy burning in his eyes and the pinched look on his face was anything to go by.
Rain finally ate something hot and greasy, following Swiss’s suggestions and nodding at whatever he pointed at on the hotel’s restaurant menu. He forced himself to eat even though every mouthful was a struggle, but the encouraging and relieved smiles of his pack meant he was able to eat almost half of the plate in front of him and drink two glasses of soda that Aether promised would rehydrate him faster than water alone.
When the time came for the rest of the pack to go out into the city as planned though, both Swiss and Aether were once again reluctant to leave Rain by himself.
“Please, just go,” he begged as they all hovered once more in the lobby, blocking the entrance and starting to frustrate the other guests coming and going, “I’ll order room service if I’m hungry again. I just want an early night.”
The concerned frowns didn’t seem convinced, but Rain could see the longing for a night off lurking behind their worry.
“Besides, Copia gave us all cell phones right?” Rain omitted the fact that he had absolutely no idea where his was, or if it had even made it as far as this country.
“Rain’ll be fine, you lot should go,” Dew added quietly, not the ally Rain expected to find himself with, but a welcome one nonetheless, “I’m not feeling it either, I think I ate too fast. I’ll keep an eye on him yeah?”
Seemingly that was the push the rest of the pack needed to finally begin drifting out the door towards the taxi rank. They all felt better knowing that there was someone back at the hotel with Rain, even if that so happened to be Dewdrop.
“Thanks.” Rain muttered as they headed towards the elevator banks, starting to feel like he had the beginnings of indigestion too. The swooping feeling the lift gave him as it swept them upwards didn’t help either, and he was glad to step back onto the firm ground of the corridor soon after.
“Sleep well, Rain,” Dew’s smile and tone seemed genuine, like he too really was concerned for his flagging packmate, “I’m gonna have an early night, but I’m just next door if you need me, ‘kay? Only one more ritual to go now.”
“Yeah.” Rain forced himself to smile, although it felt more like a grimace. “Night, Dew.”
Rain entered his room fully intending to try and take that bath now he was feeling a little more awake. He sat on the edge of his bed to take his shoes off – he had overbalanced enough times already to know that he lacked the grace of Dewdrop, who could somehow step out of his and send them flying into the nearest wall without missing a step. As he bent down to reach them though, he felt his blood rush to his head and his stomach turn violently. Rain bolted for the bathroom in a panic.
Meat was a new part of his diet, something he kept forgetting he wasn’t accustomed to since so many of his pack ate a lot of it, Swiss especially. Salt too was something he had always absorbed the right amount of through his saltwater environment and not something he had expected to also get through his food. None of his pack had really anticipated his problems either; the shift to human food was a known problem with water ghouls, and yet with Dew standing in previously it wasn’t something many of them had remembered or even thought about. Rain’s body made it quite clear to him now though, reprimanding him for not taking better care of it.
That was how Dew found him: heaving over the toilet, hair barely held back in the elastic from the ritual earlier. He bolted in looking half asleep already, hair rumpled and in an oversized T-shirt, clearly borrowed from Aether, and Rain was so relieved to see another ghoul that he barely registered any of that, or that he was the one ghoul he would least anticipate helping him without prompting. If he had been in a more lucid state, Rain might even have realised that it was the first time he had seen Dew’s arms uncovered.
“Rain!”
Rain struggled to focus his eyes on Dew’s panicked voice or on the arms moving towards him. He saw two blue flashes as Dew grew close, his eyes struggling to adjust their focus now he was in front of him.
“Hey, hey, you’re alright.”
Coughing pathetically, Rain felt as warm hands scraped the tickling hairs off his clammy neck and gently rubbed at his back. Everything felt blurry still, his whole body screaming in protest at being made to remain conscious.
“Here, have some water.”
Rain couldn’t even find it in himself to care that he dribbled as he rinsed his mouth out, a sure sign that he was just as unwell as he feared, not even when he felt Dew gently press a towel to his lips to catch the drips.
“Stay there. I’m gonna start running a bath.”
As if he could go anywhere: just sitting back on his feet felt like a herculean task to Rain. He didn’t feel as sick anymore, but he was so far from feeling good that it scared him. His whole head felt fuzzy as the spluttering of the taps turned into a roar and the bathtub began to fill, his vision a blur of white and blue and the heat-haze of lingering nausea around the edges.
“Why’re you ‘ere?” Rain slurred, squinting in the bright white of the bathroom as he tried to focus on Dew.
There was something about him that a more primal part of his mind wanted him to look more closely at, but his eyes didn’t seem to be cooperating.
“I stayed behind, remember? The others are all out some bar.”
“No… Not that.” Rain frowned in confusion as he tried to pull words together. “Why’re you in here now? With me?”
“You’re sick.” Dew busied himself with the hotel toiletries as he spoke, studiously examining the small bottles rather than turning to meet Rain’s gaze. “I’m taking care of you.”
That didn’t answer Rain’s question, but he assumed his mind was just as shaky as the rest of his senses seemed to be right now. One became clearer though, the scent of crisp eucalyptus permeating the air as Dew poured the entire contents of a miniature bottle into the water.
“Are you okay to stand? A bath will help, but I don’t think I can take all your weight, especially with it being slippery in the water…”
Dew’s hands flapped anxiously while he spoke, his tail curled anxiously around his bare ankle, and Rain fought the clouds over his head to nod and accept the hand the fire ghoul held out to him to help pull him to his feet. The bath behind him was deep and full of bubbles, tempting enough that, combined with the rejuvenating scent, Rain found the strength to lean on the sink and begin to peel his pyjama pants off. He paused with his shirt though; Dew might be being nice right now, but who could say how he would react to seeing Rain’s horrid soul mark in the flesh for the first time. No, he would just have to bathe with his shirt on.
“You need help with your shirt?”
Rain shook his head vehemently, wincing as it hurt and the dizziness returned.
“Please Rain, it’s dirty,” Dew almost begged as the water ghoul stepped shakily but determinedly towards the tub, “I don’t care what’s under it, I promise! You’ll feel better with your gills out.”
He had a good point, Rain thought. He looked up from the frothing waters – they seemed easily deep enough to reach up to his neck if he slouched in the large bathtub – meeting Dew’s stricken gaze. The fire ghoul seemed to get the message, turning to look into the corner.
“If you slip I’m not taking the blame from Aeth.” He said, with enough of his normal tone that Rain couldn’t help himself from smiling. As uncharacteristically nice as Dewdrop might be right now, it was strangely reassuring to hear his usual bite still there.
Quickly, Rain pulled his shirt off over his head before slipping into the water. The bath was warm, almost too warm, but it was just what he needed, its comforting ripples caressing him and welcoming him back into his element. The bubbles indeed easily reached his collarbones, and he slumped down low enough for the water to touch the gills along his neck. They flared open happily, even in the hot sudsy water, and Rain closed his eyes. The feeling of his fins and tail finally being supported by something other than dry air, his parched gills and flaking skin greedily drinking in the water around them; it was enough to begin to finally wash away the clouds of sickness that had engulfed him.
“Can I look again?” Dew’s voice came quietly from the corner. Rain had almost forgotten he was still there, and was touched that he hadn’t taken the quieting splashes as a sign that he could turn back around.
“Yes.” He whispered, eyes still closed. The words came out strangely as the sounds of his vocal chords echoed out through his gills into the water as well as his mouth, sounding like they were being spoken through a harmonica.
Slowly, Rain began to come back to himself, cracking his eyes open to see Dew kneeling awkwardly beside the tub. In his hand he held a small plastic cup that had come with the room, the twin of the one he had drunk out of earlier.
“Here, let me help you,” Dew gestured to Rain’s neck and ears, “your skin’s peeling.”
Rain resisted the temptation to duck down under the water. He knew what the delicate scales on his neck and joints looked like right now; they were greying, ugly things, not the vibrant jewels they had once been. Dew didn’t seem to though, meeting his gaze calmly and hopefully. He nodded his assent. The feeling of the warm water cascading over the few parts of him sticking out of the water felt nice, as did Dew’s fingers on his scalp when he eventually began washing his hair. He let his eyes fall shut again until Dew had finished.
When he opened them again though, Dew having returned to absentmindedly pouring water over his shoulders again, he saw the fire ghoul staring at him intently. Rain’s first instinct was that he must be repulsed by him, looking at his flaking skin or more likely his soul mark. He had certainly made enough derogatory comments about water ghouls and soul marks in general in the past for that to be the case. A quick glance told him that the bubbles were still camouflaging it well though.
No, Dew was instead staring hard enough to burn a hole in Rain’s arms, still floating on the surface of the bathtub. Oh, so it was just his general dislike of water ghouls them. He pulled them deeper under the water until the glow of the marks was diffused and dulled by the bubbles. They were already much dimmer than normal thanks to the lack of care he had given to his own well-being recently, definitely not something to be proud of at the moment, not like they had been when he was young and optimistic.
As he was stewing in self loathing, hating himself for not taking care of himself and for his horrid soul mark, he finally noticed what he now realised his subconscious had been trying to direct his attention to ever since Dew burst into the room. The fire ghouls arms were glowing blue, shining with vibrant teal swirls where they were wet from where he had carefully been pouring water up and over Rain’s peeling shoulders and neck.
Glowing arms.
Blue.
His arms were glowing blue like a water ghoul, the same shade as his own marks, and more importantly, with the exact same patterns.
Rain might not have the widest breadth of knowledge, especially of topside matters, but if he knew one thing he knew water ghoul markings. The patterns they formed told a unique story of the ghoul they belonged to, like fingerprints, no two identical. And Dew… he was not a water ghoul.
Those marks though… They were exactly where Rain had caught himself when he fell, right after Dew had said those words he knew so painfully well. While his sight may have been fuzzy and blurry before, now Rain saw everything with perfect clarity.
It had been Dewdrop all along.
The ghoul who had spoken those words weeks previously in the practice room. Who had been here since before Rain came topside, enjoying the life the water ghoul hadn’t even known he could dream of. It was him. It had always been him.
The whole time Rain had been in the Pit, suffering because of a handful of words burned into his chest. Ostracised by his family, losing all of his friends. It was all because of Dewdrop. It was all his fault.
Dew, who was still staring at him, his eyes glued to Rain’s arms that had floated back up to the surface of the water. Matching the marks on them to the ones on his, if he hadn’t done so already, undoubtedly.
“Go.” Rain croaked out. “I’ll be fine. Leave now, please.”
Looking dazed, Dew stumbled to his feet. As he did so, it was as though he realised for the first time that his own arms were uncovered, the marks on them on full display thanks to Aether’s short-sleeved shirt. He clutched at them in a panic, fruitlessly trying to hide their vibrant colours and lights, but it was too late.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Rain let the angry tears flow.
