Hi Moon!! I Had Some Soft Thought About Baby Dew And Cumulus And Thought I Could Share It

Hi moon!! I had some soft thought about baby dew and cumulus and thought I could share it <3

We all know Cumulus crochets, (if I remember right LOL). So, I present you. Baby dew curled up in her lap, sleepy as she crochets a blanket with him, humming softly and rocking In her rocking chair.

I loved this 🩷🩷

He'd been fussy all day. He'd been held captive in silence by flashes of memories she wishes she could wipe from his mind.

She's been rocking him for hours now it seems, his eyes shut with a pinch between his brows. He whimpers when he drifts back to sleep, immediately plagued by painfully images again.

Cumulus runs her fingers through his hair, whispering softly to keep him at least somewhat present with her. She hates it, the thought of him trapped somewhere dark and painful. She would happily fight her way through the pitch dark black of his mind, would gladly carry ever single heavy thought that ever crossed his precious mind if it meant he never hurt again.

She holds him on her lap in the den, nestled in the comfy rocking chair by the window. Swiss is in the kitchen cooking, his voice carrying out to them as he sings.

Cumulus has him propped up against her shoulder, his nose in her neck and his little fingers mindlessly playing with her curls as she works on her latest crochet project.

Occasionally there's a sad little whimper and he tenses against her and her heart feels snapped in half.

"Du är i säkerhet. Jag är här med dig." (You are safe. I'm here with you.)

Swiss hits a high note and Cumulus can picture him dancing around, singing into a spoon and she can't help but laugh at the ridiculous creature she loves so much, his warmth felt even when he's not right beside her.

Her heart jumps when Dew laughs, it's only small, one tiny little noise but she knows it means he's coming back to her.

"He's silly isn't he, baby?"

He squirms until she moves him. His back is pressed to her chest and he watches her hands while she crochets.

He points at her hands. "Dat?"

"Crochet hook."

His fingers find the soft ball of yarn tucked against the side of her leg. He squeezes at it, liking the soft texture under his fingers.

"Mjuk..." (Soft)

"Very good. It's very soft!"

He leans back again, relaxing against her. She hums while she works, pausing occasionally to press a kiss to the top of his head.

He rubs his eyes, yawning and tipping his head back looking up at her with big sleepy eyes.

"Swiss?" She calls out, running her fingers over Dew's face to keep him settled while she slightly raises her voice.

He pokes his head from the kitchen. "Yeah?"

"Can you make Dew a bottle?"

"Yeah of course!"

She tucks her crochet stuff away and gets him more comfortably situated in her arms. He holds her eyes, blinking slow while she hums and traces the shape of his face with her fingertips.

He giggles sleepily when her fingers move under his chin, the tickly feeling making him bunch up his shoulders.

He grabs hold of her hand, holding her fingers. "Mamma."

It still hits her as hard as it did the very first time he said it. To know he trusts her with such a high title, with something that used to cause nothing but pain. She was safe, she was what that title was supposed to be. Warm, loving, protective. It wasn't something she took lightly, it was something she cherished, something that meant the world to her.

"Here ya go." Swiss appears at her side, holding out the bottle.

"Thank you."

He bends to kiss Dews forehead and kisses Cumulus' cheek before wandering back off.

He nuzzles against her chest with his bottle, eyes heavy.

"Vila min älskade. Mamma är här." (Rest my love. Mama is here,)

Thinking about writing some mountain hurt/comfort..

I guess it’s time I make an intro here!

My name is Frosty, Frost, maybeeee bubbles. I occasionally lurk in people’s ask box’s, or I write things myself!

I use He/they pronouns, and I am a MINOR. If you don’t want minors on your page and you see me, please tell me!

I also write things! I’ll write pretty much anything, BUT I do NOT write NSFW things. I draw the line at light making out. I like to write about the band ghost, my hyperfixation :3

Thats all! Thanks for reading and have a great day <33

If I, after finishing my mountian WIP wrote some check please stuff would yall read it?? It’d involve chowder as the main character

Some mountain angst below the cut(??) @cptsylok helped fuel this. Not proofread, about 400 words. No comfort for now. Maybe soon

They’d not gotten a plate for him. This was the third night. After one time you can blame it as an accident. After the second, you start to doubt it. The third.. that’s when you start to know. That’s fine, he’d just get himself one.. except, like the other nights, no seat was left. In his seat was the new summon. Mountain could feel the tears in his eyes as the formed, before he turned on his heel, to head the greenhouse. At least they couldn’t take that from him, right? His one solace, the earth. Right? The greenhouse he had.. was his solace.

Wrong. He trudged through the woods, angry. Anger burned through him at what he’d saw. Dewdrop. Dewdrop and Aether in his greenhouse. Not the communal one, not the one for the siblings, not the one for the ghouls. The one that was just for him, the one everyone knew was his and to ask before they went in. They hadn’t asked. He was fuming, the normally stoic earth ghoul fueled with anger. A burning rage inside him, like a fire. Soon, he was by the creek, far from the ministry, the abbey. From his pack. He found a soft spot on the earth and let out a whine, his stomach folding in half from not eating. He started to cry.

His pack had forgotten him.

They had taken over his space.

He wasn’t there and they didn’t know.

Mountain was sick of it as his ears folded down, he started to cry.

And no one heard.

It hurt. It hurt him to be igorend. No one realized that with sunshine and aether leaving, he was just as affected. It was all either about dew or the new summon. Phantom. He seemed sweet. Mountain couldn’t blame him.

His head felt fuzzy. He drifted off to sleep, and no one would notice his absence in the common room. In the halls, in his room.

No one would notice. No one.

Hey, reblog this if you’re ok with mutuals messaging you and stuff!

Asking for my sanity :]