This Is Some Funny Shit. Like, Did You Just Randomly Decide To Go A Ghost Concert Not Knowing Who They

Con Clavi Con Dio

I mean the veil is on a separate layer so I might as well show this to u guys…mountain’s little Romeo

Stealing stuff from the book of faces

To Bea Okay Pt. 1: The First of a Thousand Steps Forward

[A desperate young woman with nothing to lose accepts a job offer that's a little too good to be true. Or, how Bea came to work for the ministry.] Below the cut.

From the moment she's approached on the street, Bea thinks to herself that this has to be some kind of elaborate scheme; That the flyer she is holding in her hands is a one way ticket to losing her kidneys to some back alley surgeon, and that she should do herself a favor and throw it away.

But, looking up from the embossed print at the odd nun who had handed it to her, she just gives a noncommittal shrug and tucks it away inside of her tote bag along with all the other random bullshit she's been handed already.

Despite putting on her bravest, bitchiest face when approached by people trying to give her stuff like this, Bea's never been good at turning people down when they aren't put off by her obvious annoyance and discomfort, because, quite frankly, saying "No" has always been a difficult thing for her to do.

Now, standing by a dumpster, Bea reaps what she's sown and turns her tote bag upside-down, letting its contents filter out into the trash.

Not like she has anything important in there anyway.

Everything slips away just fine, except for that stupid fancy flyer the nun gave her -the cardstock much more rigid than the flimsy printer paper she's usually handed- which gets caught up in the handles of her bag, and when shaking it doesn't loosen it even an inch, Bea gives an irritated grunt and rips it from there herself.

Looking at the paper once more, Bea leans herself against the bricks behind her and takes a moment to actually read what it says again;

"Now Hiring: Year Round Groundskeeper, Inquiries Please Visit Our Community Outreach Post At The Nunnery On Maple View."

Huh.

Bea squints at the page searching for any fine print or any obvious red flags, going so far as to hold the flyer up to the sparse sunlight peaking through the clouds overhead, searching for... something.

And that's when she sees it, the faintest hint of a odd sigil that appears like a phantom as the light shines through the dense paper;

It looks like an inverted cross with a circle set around the bottom.

"That's..."

Lowering the flyer, Bea tilts her head back against the wall, thinking.

On one hand, this is obviously sketchy as hell, but on the other hand, perhaps not the organ snatching kind of sketchy she thought it was.

Or maybe it's just a very fancy organ snatching thing.

She pushes away from the wall and shakes her head.

Honestly, if this is some kind of cult thing, she should hand this in to the authorities, but Bea's never gotten along with cops, and even if she hasn't done anything illegal in... about a year or so?

Yeah, she's not risking getting stuck in jail overnight.

But checking out a possible cult in the city using a groundskeeping job as a scam to draw in someone desperate enough to go for it?

Color Bea impressed.

And fucking desperate as shit.

If the offer turns out to be legitimate, cult or no cult, Bea's been looking for an opportunity like this.

Finally, a fucking chance of not sleeping in her car!

Erm... maybe.

Looking at herself in the window of an empty store front, Bea's not exactly the kind of person you'd want to hire on the spot; She's not big or tall, she's sturdy, compactly built, but entirely unassuming dressed as she is now.

It doesn't help that her hair hasn't been washed in days, or that she hasn't been able to keep up with basic hygiene like brushing her teeth, but-

...She needs this.

She needs to get out of this hole she's dug for herself.

Pinching her eyes shut, Bea takes a deep breath, rolls her shoulders, and stands up straight.

Fuck it.

Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it... she's going to do it.

She's gonna do it.

She's going to go in and ask about the job.

.

.

.

Bea's not sure exactly what a nunnery is or what purpose it serves -beyond being a place where nuns live- but sitting in the hallway waiting to be interviewed, she can at least admire the nice architecture.

It's strange though.

The lack of crosses on the walls.

In fact, there's not a lot of religious iconography anywhere in this front room, not that she minds really.

Bea's never been exceedingly religious; She wasn't brought up going to church, even if her mother had been raised Catholic, she, too, seemed disinterested in continuing on with her faith.

Not that she could really blame her.

Life had not been kind to her mother, and as a result Bea's hadn't turned out much better, but a small part of her has always held onto the hope that things could get better... even if things had really gone south for her over the last couple of years.

Lifting her head from her lap, Bea surveys the others waiting in the hall, folding back into herself just a little when she realizes she's the only woman here.

This sort of thing doesn't exactly surprise her all told, but it does make her a bit less confident that she'll even be considered for the job.

By and large people hiring for landscaping work or other jobs requiring physical labor prefer to hire men, even if Bea has the experience and know how, some folks are just set on the idea that someone like her can't -or even shouldn't- be working in this field.

She'd gotten enough "well meaning" lectures from older men about how she wasn't built for this kind of work, that she should stop cutting her hair, that she should smile more, and-

"Beatrix Milne?" A gentle voice calls, drawing her from her internal ramblings.

She stands and is greeted by a sweet looking, elderly nun, who gestures smoothly for her to approach and enter the room to her right.

Inside the room, sits an older woman dressed in mostly black with a brown shawl draped over her shoulders, grey and blond hair tied back in a tight bun that makes Bea's own head ache from the tension present there.

"Have a seat." the woman smiles, and Bea does what she's told, moving her tote bag into her lap so it doesn't catch on the arm of the chair, "I have to say, this is a refreshing sight, I've seen thirty men so far... It's nice to see a young woman like yourself applying for a position like this."

"I... Mn." Bea bites her tongue, unsure of how to feel about that statement, opting to simply nod instead, "I've worked similar jobs in the past, so I thought I would apply."

"Experience is a desired trait." the woman chuckles, tenting her fingers on the desk, "Introductions first; I am Sister Imperator, I am, as my title might suggest, the mother superior of this particular nunnery, though perhaps not for much longer..."

She gives a somber smile.

"And you are?"

"Beatrix Milne, or just Bea..." she says, "When you say that..."

"My health is in decline." Sister Imperator supplies, answering Bea's unfinished question, not seeming in the least bit offended by it either, "I intend to retire soon, and return home to the countryside, which is why I am hoping to hire a new groundskeeper; The property maintained by my family is quite large and difficult for someone such as myself to tend to, even with the help of the other residents of the property, only a handful of them are skilled in art of horticulture and understand the balance between beauty and the thoughtful maintenance required to care for the surrounding green spaces..."

"Additionally, there are tasks that need to be done that require the knowledge of how to use highly specific tools and machinery that I would not risk allowing an inexperienced individual using for fear of damaging it or themselves." she explains, "I also do not enjoy pulling them from their studies to work outside..."

"Studies?"

"Part of the property houses a school of sorts, a small one, but a school nonetheless, where individuals come to study specialized fields of science, literature, etcetera... I often rely on volunteers among these students to help maintain the property alongside our current gardener." she says, leaning back in her chair, "Our gardener is a diligent, hardworking fellow, but he oftentimes bites off more than he can chew, and he bears other responsibilities that take him away from the property for long periods of time, which makes it difficult to maintain things properly."

"...So you'd be hiring me to pick up his slack?" Bea questions, and Sister Imperator gives a little laugh and shakes her head.

"In a way, yes, but I really much prefer having someone else who's capable around when he is not, or perhaps when more than one set of hands would come in useful." she replies, "Making one person work to maintain nearly fifty acres of land would be cruel, even if a little over half of it is woodland."

"Fifty acres..." Bea tries to imagine it, but the sheer size is difficult to comprehend based on a number alone, so she tries to visualize it using a similarly large unit to help; Football fields.

As Bea sits doing the mental math of football fields to a single acre, Sister Imperator continues on explaining the details of the job.

"-Of course, I understand if you would be worried about leaving behind friends and family here in the states."

"Oh, uh..." Bea blinks back to the present at about sixteen football fields, "...No, not really."

"Oh?"

"I'm not in contact with my family, and I'm new to the area, so I don't really know anyone here." she admits easily, "I can pick up and go pretty much anywhere."

And that...

That really makes the older lady grin.

"Really... Well, I have to admit that that puts you ahead of some of the other candidates." she shuffles some papers in front of her, "...If I were to offer you the position now, how soon would you like to start?"

Bea stares.

"...As soon as possible... if p-possible?" she gives a nervous laugh.

Sister Imperator stands and rounds the table in a singular, swift motion, hand grazing the table top as she heads for the door.

Bea gives a nervous squeak when she opens it to step outside, but then the woman opens her mouth and-

"I've decided on a candidate, thank you all for your time, you are free to leave now."

The door closes again.

"Now then..." she says, gliding back around the desk and taking a seat once more.

"Let's discuss the finer details of your new job."

What.

"...What?"

Anyone with an ounce of common sense would have left that interview thinking it was shady as hell, but Bea?

Bea leaves the nunnery not thinking about much at all.

Actually, as she drifts through the door, the first thing that filters through her mind is how hungry she is.

There had been little candies on the desk during the interview, and she'd eaten one or two while waiting for Sister Imperator to come back with the necessary paperwork, and when she got caught popping a third in her mouth, the older woman had slid the bowl a little closer in a subtle, encouraging gesture.

Bea twirls one of the wrappers between her fingers.

"Maybe it's actually poison." a small part of her brain frets, but Bea just hums, thinking about what she can afford to eat that will actually be even remotely filling, "...It's sweet though."

.

.

.

Bea's never been on a plane before, and after being on one for nearly eight hours, she's come to the conclusion that she's never getting on another one ever again.

What little pride and dignity she might have had prior to boarding that wretched contraption is flung out the window as soon as she's firmly on the ground, curling into a tight ball.

If it weren't for the modicum of shame she feels -combined with a touch of nausea- she would have stayed there.

It sucks that for some things you have to experience it first to know how much it'll mess with your stomach, but, hey, now she knows.

Scrambling back to her feet, Bea parks her carryon beside herself and tugs on the coat she'd bought in anticipation of this trip; It may be decently warm inside the airport, but she can see the snow coming down outside, and she'd rather not freeze while waiting for her ride to arrive.

The ministry -the organization Sister Imperator works for...? Runs...?- had arranged to send a car to pick her up at the airport, which had been nice of them, especially seeing as Bea wouldn't know how to ask for one, let alone give the driver proper directions, because she doesn't exactly speak Swedish.

Yeah, somehow an old lady she's never met before, who possibly runs a cult, convinced Bea to travel to Sweden of all places on a whim.

Despite the obvious red flags, the prospect of being in a foreign country where she doesn't speak the language, and the voice of reason screaming at her NOT to do it; Bea did it.

She's always been this way truth be told, ever since she was a little kid, she knows she shouldn't but she does it anyway, because marching into Hell feels different than stumbling into it, even if she could have taken any other option.

At the end of the day, Bea supposes, she just wants to see what will happen.

She's the type of person who doesn't want to get involved with gossip, and yet needs to know all the details, and sometimes that requires her to get involved to some extent...

Although in this case, knowing that this could all be some ploy to drag her into something shady and illegal, the thought that echoes most prominently in her mind is...

"The worst they can do is kill me."

And in some strange way she finds comfort in that.

That, ultimately, coming here, she's accepting that as a possible outcome... and she's okay with it.

She's okay with the idea of dying.

Perhaps that's something she should be worried about.

But for now?

For now she waits for the car to take her somewhere far, far away...

Does baby Dew ever get his languages mixed up at all? I love that he knows them all but I just wonder if when he's little he can't really get them out right?

Very quick short little thing!

Cw: sick baby Dew

Dew had fussed all night, warm with a fever and uncomfy. Mountain had stayed up with him, pacing the halls or rocking in a rocking chair, swaddling him or leaving him in just his thin jammies…

But nothing worked.

His little cheeks were red and he was obviously exhausted but he couldn't sleep.

He kisses the top of his head as the sun rises, waiting for anyone to come take the baby so he can shut his eyes for a little while. Swiss answers the group chat first, letting Mountain know he's on his way.

“Swiss is coming, honeybee.”

“Duele…” More tears gather in his eyes. (Hurts)

Mountain cocks his head. “I don't know what that means, I'm sorry.”

Dew sniffles, rubbing his eyes and pressing his ear closer to Mountain's chest, whimpering and sniffling.

Swiss knocks once before quietly entering the room, eyes soft when he spots Mountain still standing and swaying with the baby.

Dew reaches his arms out and snuggles up under his neck as soon as Swiss takes him.

“He's still warm and hasn't slept.” Mountain squeezes the back of his neck, groaning at the tension.

Swiss kisses him quickly. “Get some sleep, Mount.”

Swiss carries Dew down the hall to his room, humming as he walks. Dew squirms against him, clearly uncomfortable and Swiss wishes he could read his mind.

He gets his record player going, hoping the music will help him settle a bit but his little face is still twisted and red, dry tears on his cheeks.

“Fa male. Brutto…” His voice is weak, exhausted and the words are jumbled and slurred, still mostly babbling but Swiss knows he's trying to say something. (Hurts bad)

“What was that, amor?”

But he doesn't repeat it, his lower lip wobbles and he cries again, twisting his head and pressing tight against Swiss' chest. He sighs and bounces him gently, hating that he can't just help him.

He keeps him close, singing and bouncing him until Phantom runs into his room with their jacket on.

“Are y-you ready?”

“Oh bug I'm sorry, I forgot!” He had promised the little quint they'd go on a walk on a rainy day so they could splash in puddles.

“Oh…s’ok…”

“No, give me just a second. I promised I just forgot. Dew doesn't feel well so I was just a little distracted. Let me text Rain real quick ok?”

Swiss lays the baby on the bed, keeping his hand pressed against his little chest. Phantom climbs up beside him, frowning at Dew's sad eyes.

“D-don’t be s-sad Dew!”

Dew sniffles. “Ant…”

The little quint cocks their head, trying to focus on why Dew's upset but it's hard to control their magic when their little.

“Ok mi amor, Rain's going to look after you for a bit.”

“Mor.”

“Yeah, he's on his way.” He smiles and kisses his forehead.

Phantom manages to pull a tiny smile from the baby before Rain shows up. Dew's little fingers are curled around two of Phantom's, holding onto them while they talk just to distract him from his discomfort.

He turns as soon as he realizes Rain is there, sleepily reaching out. His eyes are red and puffy and Rain scoops him up quickly, holding him close and rubbing his back.

“He's still fussy.” Swiss lets him know as he adjusts the baby in his arms.

He presses his warm little face against Rain's cool neck. “Mor…tut weh.” (Hurts)

Rain glances at Swiss who just shrugs. “He's been saying stuff but it's nothing I can recognize.”

He nods and kisses the top of Dew's head, saying goodbye to Swiss and Phantom. He shushes the baby softly when he whimpers as they are walking, humming until he settles a bit.

Rain rocks him in the chair for a while, hoping the gentle motions will ease him into sleep. He's quiet for a bit before he cries again, big tears rolling down his cheeks as he presses his ear tight against Rain's chest, his little fingers clawing at Rain's shirt.

He pulls out his phone and texts Aether, getting an almost immediate response to bring Dew down to him.

“We are going to go see Aether, amour.”

Dew sniffles, blinking his big sad eyes up at Rain. “Daidí…”

“Yeah baby, we're going to go see him.” He promises as he stands from the chair, patting Dew's back as they leave the room to go to the infirmary.

Aether is waiting by the door when they make it down and Dew reaches for him as soon as he sees him.

“Daidí.”

Aether holds him tight. “Dia duit mo ghrá.” (Hi my love)

Dew fusses again. “Gortaítear…” (hurts)

“What hurts?”

Rain flinches just slightly. “He was trying to tell us that…” He shakes his head and rests his hand on the baby's back. “I'm so sorry, Mon amour, I didn't know what you were saying.”

Aether touches his shoulder. “It's ok, Rain.”

They get Dew in one of the rooms and Aether lets his magic work, seeking out the pain to soothe it, finding an ear infection. He keeps the pain down and eases back the fever.

His eyes brighten as soon as the pain fades. Rain relaxes when Dew claps his hands.

“That's better, hm?” Aether smiles, wiping Dews face with his sleeve, brushing the remaining tears away.

He points at his ear. “Ow…bad ow!”

“I know, I'm sorry. But it'll be better now.”

Rain sits beside them in the bed, shaking his head fondly. “You've got too many languages in that little head of yours.”

Dew just giggles, clapping his hands again. They chat for a while, letting Dew relax with Aether until sleep finally starts to catch up to him. He rubs his eyes, snuggling closer into Aether.

“I've got to get back to work, firefly.” He kisses his forehead. “If he starts fussing again, text me, I'll come up to see him.”

“Thanks Aeth.” Rain leans against him for a moment before picking Dew up carefully, smiling when his sleepy eyes find his for a second before closing again.

He carries him back to his room and settles on the bed with Dew up on his chest now soundly sleeping. He texts the group to let them know, sending a picture of the sleeping baby along with it before he lays his hands on Dew's back and shuts his eyes, focusing on the rumbly little purr in Dew's chest.

This is the scariest thing I've seen today

Smth about copia literally being the metaphor for death on a pale white horse who brings hell with him is so funny. Like have you seen this dude

Available for pre-order on Apple

The band Ghost is so fucking funny to me. Their frontman currently looks like this:

Or some version of a horny goth clown, but the guy underneath it has got the wettest saddest eyes I've ever seen. Just look at him:

This man admits to being very sensitive and cries at the drop of a hat.

He has a wife and kids.

He wears the costume because he doesn't like the way he looks on stage as a rockstar.

He treats the audience like his children. They're officially called the children of Ghost for that and also because of the play on "children of god."

The band literally fucks around on stage while riffing this badass music. They go through physical comedy skits every concert like the three stooges. For example:

Two demons throw guitar picks at each other when they get angy.

One guy grinds and licks the stage like a cat in heat.

One of them shakes their tits at goth clown man and scares him shitless.

One of them twirls goth clown man like a ballerina as he dances by them.

Several of them slap goth clown's ass when he waddles by.

He created the band to make people happy, to celebrate being a fucking weirdo because he always felt left out, and to make fun of Christianity because it makes people feel bad. He lost his older brother, and it tore him up so bad that the music he made as a result launched him into a worldwide music career.

This man ends every concert "ritual" with three things:

1. Be nice to each other

2. Help each other

3. Go fuck yourself

(Literally and figuratively)

Their music is 70% "fuck me I'm so horny", 10% "I love you so much" and 20% "ethereal badass metal".

Look at how much fun he's having, dude.

It's literally just a rock band filled with the nicest people on earth wearing costumes like a Shakespearean play. And all they do is make up funny little lore stories and serve cunt.

Mushy May Day 5 - Animals (Aether/Dew)

Day 5! Honestly shocked I made it this far. As always, thanks to @forlorn-crows for organizing this and to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!

Day 5 - Animals (Aether/Dew), no warnings, 1093 words

Aether is wrapping up his shift in the infirmary when he gets the text, mood lifting the moment he sees Dew’s name pop up in the notification. It had only been a few days since the band went back out on tour, and Aether was already missing his little fire ghoul something fierce.

When he opens the message, he’s greeted with a photo of Dew dressed in full costume, holding up a tiny orange kitten in his hands. Dew has sent a handful of other photos, all of the same kitten. Eating treats out of his hand, playing with a little catnip mouse, curled up and asleep in his lap. In the background he can see the rest of the pack sprawled out on the carpet of the green room with a tiny army of kittens and puppies.

Papa must have arranged for an animal rescue to visit the venue that day. Those were always some of their favorite days on tour, Aether thinks nostalgically. It was a great way for them all to de-stress after weeks on the road cooped up in the tour bus or boring hotel rooms. Getting to spend the day with playful little puppies and curious kittens did wonders for everyone’s morale. Dew especially. He was always the last ghoul to give up whatever animal he’d been cuddling with for the duration of the visit. 

Aether’s phone dings, and with it another handful of kitten pictures, along with a message from Dew.

His name is Chicken Nugget!!!

Aether smiles to himself. Three whole exclamation points? Dew must be having a good time with the animal rescue’s visit. He can’t wait to hear about it during their nightly call.

Aether texts back and tells him so.

Dew answers with another picture of himself holding Chicken Nugget up to his face, the tiny little kitten mid cheek-rub against the edge of one of Dew’s bug-eyed helmet goggles. 

Aether sets the photo as his phone wallpaper immediately.

That night when they talk, Dew can’t stop gushing about the kitten.

“Aether, I’m in love,” Dew says dramatically.

Aether gasps in mock outrage. “Wow, should I be jealous?” he answers.

Dew snorts. “Yes actually. I wanted to take him home so bad, but Papa said absolutely no way, no pets on the tour bus. I guess he has a point though,” Dew concedes, sounding more than a little bit sad about it.

“We bonded though, Aeth!” Dew exclaims, excited again. “He picked me over everyone else and he looked so sad when I had to give him back. I felt like I was abandoning him...” Aether can just hear the sad little frown on Dew’s face through the tone of his voice.

He listens to Dew talk about Chicken Nugget for the rest of their call. The fire ghoul has always been a little animal lover, but this is the first time Aether has seen him get so attached. It’s completely adorable, Aether thinks, though he’s sure that Dew will have moved on from it in a day or so once they get back out on the road. 

He’s completely wrong. Dew brings up the kitten every night during their calls for weeks. Worrying about what will happen if he doesn’t get adopted. Worrying about what will happen if he does get adopted, that he couldn’t trust just anyone with his little Chicken Nugget. 

Another month passes and Aether can hear the exhaustion in Dew’s voice building each day. It’s the first time since they’d been summoned that they’d been apart for so long.

“Lonely out here sometimes,” Dew says one night as he dozes off in his bunk on the phone with Aether. “Miss you…” he trails off. 

Aether’s heart aches. There’s still months of touring left. It’ll be nearly winter before he and Dew are reunited. That night, Aether makes a decision.

In the morning, he’s convinced himself he knows what to do. First things first, he has to make a few phone calls. He takes out his cell phone and dials.

Papa? Dew’s not around you right now, is he? Good. Can we talk?

An agonizing two months later and Aether finds himself standing anxiously outside the abbey, waiting for the tour bus to finally come rumbling down the road. To deliver his precious pack and beloved mate back into his waiting arms.

Dew is the first one off the bus, and he flies into Aether, nearly knocking him down in the process. He takes Dew’s bags in one hand and Dew’s hand in the other and leads him into the abbey, listening to him talk about the long flight and the even longer bus ride back home.

Once they’re inside, Dew makes a beeline toward the kitchen. But before he can escape, Aether tugs him back gently by the hand.

“Come here, I want to show you something first,” Aether says softly.

“Aeth, can’t it wait, I’m freaking starving,” Dew answers, rubbing his stomach to emphasize his point.

“Nope, can’t wait.” Aether takes Dew by the shoulders and steers him down the hall towards their shared bedroom. “Come with me.” 

Dew looks back at him suspiciously, but lets Aether guide him toward their closed bedroom door. When they get there, Dew turns the knob and opens the door slowly, unsure of what he’s going to find there waiting for him.

And then he sees it. A tiny little orange ball of fluff curled up in the middle of their nest. Dew gasps, immediately covering his mouth with his hand when the sound wakes the kitten from his nap. Chicken Nugget takes one look at Dew, stretches out his tiny paws, and lets out an excited little mewl.

Dew rushes over to the bed, scoops up the kitten, and cradles him to his chest before turning to back Aether with wide, glassy eyes. “How did you?” Dew’s voice cracks just a little bit.

Oh Satan, if Dew cries, he is definitely going to cry too, Aether thinks to himself in a panic.

“Don’t ask, it was a giant pain in the ass though,” he laughs, wiping a stray tear threatening to spill from his eyes. He pulls Dew in, careful not to squish the little purring kitten between them, and kisses his forehead. “He’s here now though. He was waiting for you. Both of us were waiting for you.”

Dew lets out a sob, and that’s it, Aether is crying too. Chicken Nugget, on the other hand, couldn’t be happier, purring away and kneading Dew's sweatshirt with tiny little claws.

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