#shitty ghoul ficlet

[moony-ghoul]

phantom found home within the ghouls

not just a physical home but they feel at home with their ghouls

they feel at home when they watch mountain cook, it’s like he’s dancing, every step so precise. he thinks every step out so thoroughly and it pays off every time. ant didn’t understand what love tasted like until they tried mounts cooking

they feel at home when they wake up in swiss’ bed. strong arms wrapped around them, every point of physical contact feels like being basked in sunlight. he’s usually still asleep when ant wakes up and they enjoy the time memorising every freckle dusted on swiss’ face

they feel at home when aurora brushes their hair. they stay up way too late, some 90s movie plays in the background while they pamper each other. rory goes through her collection of nail polish and picks the perfect colour so they can match, she rakes her claws through their hair to distract them while it dries

they feel at home when rains back is pressed against their chest. rain grips the controller for dear life, tongue poked out between his teeth. the pair stay on the couch for hours in silence, the only sound coming from the tv, the games usually violent but ant finds it so peaceful

ants feels at home with their ghouls

they feel safe

they feel loved

[everybodyshusband]

Situations have occurred. i’m dealing with it normally.

just thinking. the ghoul tour bus.

busses are top heavy, they roll easily, especially on corners. and with all those energetic ghouls jumping around on the moving bus after an adrenaline-filled show…

mentions of blood, injury, and (NON-major character) death under the cut

It had been a tight corner, and the driver hadn't braked in enough time, leaving the bus to tip over and slide along the road for metres and metres before slowly skidding to a halt. The screaming had stopped once the bus ceased its sliding, but the smashed windows and broken interior wouldn't stop groaning and shattering, even once the crash was over.

Rain had climbed out of the wreck first, miraculously uninjured, and was now sitting with their knees drawn up to their chest, rocking back and forth, staring unblinkingly at the broken, side-turned tour bus. They didn't seem to be injured, just non-verbal and shivering from the shock, but that didn't ease Aether's worry at all.

Aether had been next out, scraping his arm on a piece of jagged glass as he clambered out as quickly as possible. He'd wrapped a pillowcase around it in a makeshift tourniquet. The wound wasn't too deep, but he wasn't going to take any chances; not when he had an entire busload to look after and account for.

Cumulus had been out fairly quickly, too. She'd crawled out through the shattered windscreen past the unconscious driver. She did her best to pull him out of his seat in case anyone could help tend to his wounds, but stumbled back in shock once she saw the damage to his face. A plate-sized shard of glass was sticking out from his face, and he wasn't breathing. It was much too late to help him, Cumulus knew, but she did her best to drag the driver out of the seat regardless; it would be better if anyone else crawling out of the same place she had didn't have to bear witness to the driver's bloody, cut up face. Upon finishing her task and finding Rain and Aether safe and accounted for, Cumulus was now helping Aether to climb back in and search for the others while she stayed with Rain, placing a blanket gently over their shoulders.

Reentering the bus, Aether had found Sunshine and Cirrus curled up around each other, squished up behind a couch that had fallen over them. Sunshine's leg had been trapped underneath the couch, and Cirrus seemed to have a mild concussion, but aside from that, the two of them seemed to be alright. Aether helped them to climb out of the bus and requested that—if they felt up to it—they help Cumulus in breaking away the rest of the windshield to create a larger space for the rest to crawl out from.

Swiss, and the band's two newest additions were the next to be found. The three of them had been curled around each other as the ghoulettes had been, except none of them were conscious. Alive, breathing, but unconscious. Aether shouted for help, and to his surprise, it was Copia who came crawling through the wreckage to aid him in dragging his partners to safety.

Copia, like Aether, seemed to be fine. His most obvious injury was a small cut trickling blood, just above his eyebrow. He may have had a limp as well, Aether thought, but it was hard to tell, especially given that both of them were dragging the unconscious bodies of their friends out of a broken, wrecked bus, meaning neither of them could stand properly and have a decent view of the other and their injuries.

As Aether and Copia dragged the ghouls from the bus, Dewdrop appeared, covered in blood, limping, and clutching his arm to his chest. "Aeth," he started, sounding completely wrecked, his voice shaking with emotion. Aether felt his heart split open in terror. "Aeth, I- I can't find Mountain."

"What." His voice sounded hollow, even to his own ears.

"I- I can't find him. We were sitting next to each other, he- he should have been right next to me, but..."

Aether hands the task of ghoul-carrying over to Copia and turns to Dew, taking him in properly. Along with the injuries Aether first saw, the fire ghoul clearly has some kind of head injury, since Aether can clearly see the blood matted in his hair and dripping down one side of his face. It's obvious Mountain and Dew were sitting on the side the bus rolled onto and got the worst brunt of it.

"Dew, you go and climb out of the windscreen. 'Lus and Copia will help you, okay?" Aether instructs, moving further into the bus as he speaks. "I'm going to find Mountain."

As Aether walks further and further into the wreckage, he's struck by just how serious their crash was. The furniture is piled high on the wall-now-floor of the bus, and almost every window on that same side that Aether can see is smashed. He's suddenly struck with the knowledge of just how lucky they are that everyone in their pack survived. Except for...

No. Aether will find Mountain. The earth ghoul will be fine. He has to be.

After what feels like hours of frantic searching—in reality, it’s probably less than ten minutes, but time goes fuzzy when Aether panics—Aether finally spots Mountain's uniform jacket. The arm of it is peaking out from the smashed window. The rest of it is under the weight of the entire bus. He can't see an arm inside the jacket, which is a good sign, but Aether can't stop himself from panicking anyway.

He screams when he finally spots Mountain.

Mountain's body? No. No, it's Mountain. He needs to be alive. He needs to be.

The earth ghoul is lying on his side, on the very back bunk, facing towards Aether. His face is bloodied and bruising already, and the rest of him doesn't look much better, even hidden under his clothes. Aether yells for help. He doesn't want to risk moving Mountain in case he causes even more damage.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to worry for too long. He barely registers the paramedics pushing past him to get a proper look at the injured earth ghoul, or the kind person who helps him to stumble out of the bus after they carry Mountain out on a stretcher. He thinks the others are talking to him once he crawls out, but he can barely focus on anything, let alone the worried voices and faces of his packmates.

Later, when it's known that everyone is safe and accounted for, Aether doesn't really remember the rest of that day. Only worry, fear, worry, hospital, sleep, worry. Mountain will heal, the doctors assure them all. He's attained serious injuries, but he will heal, and in a few months, he'll be almost back to normal.

There's a collective sigh of relief, and although the doctor continues to list Mountain's injuries, none of them are really listening to her anymore; too relieved that their earth ghoul will eventually be okay.

[p1nkcanoe]

finding new fanfiction to read can be tricky, especially when you’re just going off of titles and vibes. lucky for you, I’ve put together a shitty directory organized by kink and some other potential eye-catching topics… so without further ado, I present p1nk’s smutty fic directory (not to be confused with my masterlist, of course)

if you’re looking for…

monsterfucking

then check out voulez-vous (rain x dew)

size difference

saut dans le vide, my lover is for you (mountaindew)

cornflower blue (swiss x phantom)

scheming ghouls

the ghoulettes make dew pretty in line my eyes and call me pretty (dew x ghoulettes)

pleader gets hot in the library (swiss x phantom)

aether unleashes chaos in the den with love like ghosts (swiss x mountain)

mount thinks he's slick in ace up my sleeve (mountain x phantom)

rain and swiss try something new in the pleasure in deprivation (rain x swiss)

and we can’t forget about picture this and its sister series, the polaroid collection (swiss x everyone)

ghouls in love

once twice melody always has my heart (rain x dew)

cornflower blue, lovey-dovey ghouls and size kink (swiss x phantom)

ghouls being weird...

phantom is a voyeur in the moon doesn't mind (phantom, copia x cumulus)

swiss does not play that damn guitar... (swiss x guitars???)

uhhh... mountain + footjob... who let the dogs out (swiss x mountain)

something normal* for once

aurora and swiss grinding gets a little hot in fever (swiss x aurora)

secondo requests a little company from one of his ghouls in dreamy bruises (mountain x secondo)

mountain's a brat in asphalt meadows (mountain x aether)

rain proves that it's possible to be a gamer and also fuck in mice on venus (rain x cirrus)

mountrora butterfly series is the fiction of speed (mountain x aurora)

*normal: not too weird, kinky, or intense. but let's be fr, none of these are necessarily "vanilla"

shorter works

i have a ficlet collection

[forlorn-crows]

Hey Crow! :D I think this might be my first time sending you a ficlet request, how fun! I feel like your style would scratch a specific itch I have so well ❤️

So listen, I've been having this persistent migraine for *days*. It's not constantly blasting me with pain, sometimes it lowers into just a fuzz for a few hours and I think it's gone but then it builds back up and it smacks me in the face again. I'm very tired of said migraine loop and in need of my projection ghoul going through it and the pack helping them. May I please request Swiss dealing with a shitty headache and getting some comfort from someone? Any other ghoul is fine, or a group of them, all good, I just want my projection boyo being comforted and cared for. Can be gen, can be smutty cause Satan knows some fun play time can take your mind off of a headache alright, it's up to you.

If that's something you'd be interested in wreiting of course, no pressure!

Mushy May Day 11: Unspoken 'I love you's

a little quip about Swiss' raging headache coming up! featuring Aether and Sunshine. what says 'i love you' more than helping your packmate ease their pain without being asked?

Pairings: Aether/Swiss/Sunshine

Words: 715

Swiss grumbles in Sunshine’s lap, begging her thighs to smother him so he doesn’t have to feel the incessant throbbing behind his eyes anymore. He claws into his own hair as a spike of pain sears through his right temple, knocking his breath right out of his chest. 

Sunshine gently pries his fingers out of his hair and redirects them to latch onto the hem of the blanket scrunched around his shoulders instead. She pets his hair with soft, flat palms, offering what little warmth she can conjure. 

“Fuck,” he hisses in their infernal language, the curse sounding more like a hex on his tongue. 

“That bad?” Aether asks from the hallway. When the waves of pain emanating from his packmate started branching off in sulfuric tendrils across the void, the quintessence ghoul roused himself from the comfort of his bed, unable to relax while Swiss was suffering. 

Sunshine nods. Her expression is one of empathy and concern, eyebrows upturned as she regards Aether across the room. “Going on hour three, now,” she says, still running her hands across Swiss’ tight curls. I’m trying, she mouths with a sad smile. 

I know, Aether mouths back, genuine. 

“Brain feels like it’s in a fist fight with my skull,” Swiss mumbles. 

Aether motions for Sunshine to let him switch places with her. She settles on the other end of the couch, lifting Swiss’ feet into her lap. 

“You’ve just got such a big one,” he jokes in hushed tones. “Okay, marshmallow,” he soothes as Swiss grumbles at the displacement, “there you go.” 

Swiss buries his face into Aether’s lap just as deeply as he had with Sunshine. The quintessence ghoul runs a hand down his neck, running between his shoulder blades and back up again in long, slow motions. 

“These bodies of ours,” he begins quietly, “are fragile. The magick that runs through all of us, in each varied way, hits a limit, in which it has nowhere productive to go.” Aether’s fingers sparkle with that telltale ultraviolet hue, floating just under the base of Swiss’ skull now. “So it manifests as pain. You’d do well to let that glamour go sometimes, give that soul a little more room.” The words are targeted at Swiss, but it serves a gentle reminder for all of them, really. 

The multi-ghoul sighs heavily as Aether brings his hand to the crown of his head, pressing gently with his fingertips. Sunshine tentatively rubs little circles into his calf muscles. She observes the way Swiss’ shoulders melt into Aether’s lap at his touch, quintessence seeping into the pain-filled crevices of his brain and scooping it out with its magick tendrils. He groans with relief, tail finally uncurling from around his own thigh. The spaded tip falls limp to the floor with a soft thud. Sunshine can’t help but trill happily at the sight of Swiss finally relaxed. 

“But,” Aether continues softly, “we can’t face the burden of pain alone. As I’m sure Sunny already told you, marshmallow.” The ghoulette nods in agreement, having done her best to usher a curled-up multi-ghoul into her lap after breakfast once he started wincing.

“I know,” Swiss whines, voice muffled by Aether’s legs. Aether just chuckles, continuing to massage his magick along his scalp, trailing down his neck and shoulders every so often. But he knows there's an unspoken thank you in there somewhere.

The three sit in silence, Aether and Sunshine running their warm loving hands over their packmate until a low purr kicks up in his chest, the multi-ghoul finally and truly relieved. 

“Hey Aethe,” Sunshine chirps inquisitively after a while. 

“Hey Sunny,” he parrots back.

She giggles. “How come you call Swiss ‘marshmallow’?” Swiss snorts a laugh in Aether’s laugh. 

“Well, couple years ago there was this little packet of hot chocolate in one of the hotel rooms—you know, the drink Papa likes to carry around during the winter time and insist it’s actually coffee?” Sunshine nods. “I don’t know why I noticed it. But the brand was ‘Swiss Miss’.”

“The kind with mini marshmallows,” Swiss chimes in. 

“So,” Aether gestures vaguely, “marshmallow.”

“So dumb,” the multi-ghoul mumbles amusedly.

“I think he secretly likes it,” Aether stage whispers across the couch. Swiss shakes his head in defiance, rubbing his face in the quintessence ghoul’s lap, but Sunshine can hear him holding back laughter. 

[sageofthestarz]

It's Alright

A small RainDrop ficlet of how Dew is after Aether leaves the Abbey, and who helps him

-

This takes place in my own version of the ghost universe and is purely for my self indulgence :)

Dew barley spoke to anyone, going through the motions rather then living the few weeks after Aether left. Even to Rain, he barley gave him the time of day waving him off make sure all of Rains things were out of his room and staying out.

He was snippy, only coming to the new summoning because Sister ordered it, scowling as Phantom and Aurora made their way. Growling as Phantom looked around the room and looked to him as the first. The younger ghoul having a scared look almost like he wanted to bolt out of there, scrambling back on the floor Dew only rolling his eyes as Cirrus fussed at him for scaring him, both Mountain and Rain going over to calm the new summon down. Dew didn't understand why it stung to see Phantom cling to Rain like a life line. Rain more then happy to comfort him. Why did it make his chest hurt so much.

He left seconds after slamming the door behind him leaving out of the Abbey completely, walking down to the lake and taking time, a few hours alone. The other ghouls were preoccupied with the two new ones. It was fine. He was fine. He didn't need them, couldn't need them. He was fine.

He wasn't.

He was overwhelmed and upset and wanted nothing more then the comfort of his pack, the one he wished was his mate. He couldn't though. Couldn't bring himself to ask. To rely on them, not anymore, not when that's the reason Aether left him. He couldn't take that again, not with any more of his pack. He can take this on his own, he's fine, they have enough stress on all their shoulders, everyone is busy, everyone has their own shit to deal with they don't need a Fire Ghoul who still acts like his pathetic Water Ghoul self. He needs to get over it. Will get over it.

He is fine.

It takes weeks for him to crack. He was right in the sense that everyone busy, but that doesn't mean they don't notice how he doesn't show up sleeping in the common rooms anymore, isn't planning weekly movie nights, no impromptu ghoul piles, no nothing. He shows up for what's required. Rehearsals, meals, sounds, fitting, all the sort but once it's done he goes back to his own thing. Rain tries to talk to him, tries to bring back his Dewdrop, but Dew just snaps at him. Practically barks in rage when Rain calls him Dew telling him how that isn't his name, the hurt in his voice is all Rain needs to hear to know what's going on.

Rain grabs his wrist and even with a bit of a bitch fit on Dews end he drags him to Rains room, locks the door. He puts on a record quietly, one of calling classical that he always put on for their naps together before shutting the lights off and pulling Dew into his bed.

Dews dead on his feet watching Rain do this, shoulders dropped and just not willing to fight anymore. Allowing Rain to pull him into his bed, into his chest. It doesn't take long before the flood gates are open.

Dews apologizing over and over, knowing how shitty he's acted towards everyone. Rain let's him get it all out, telling him how he can go apologize to them later. Dews afraid. Afraid Rain will leave all the same, that he's being too much right now, he's trying to pull himself together but the soft sweet words Rain tells him, coaxing it out of him makes it impossible. He feels safe there in Rains arms. He hates how much he wants Rain. Wants to be his mate. Rain deserves so much more then him. He's forever grateful to him though. The small acts the water ghoul does mean so much to him.

Dew calm down after while, head pressed in the crook of Rains neck, taking in his scent. Laying together in silence for awhile, Rains hands combing through Dews hair, taking notice to how much he hasn't been taking care of it. It's dry, tangled making him frown slightly. Rain combs it out, taking his time as he braids it, a light purr in his chest the whole time. It's the one noise Dew focuses on when he closes his eyes, taking it in, soaking up any once of comfort Rain gives him. He's tired. So tired, in so many different ways. They both needed this. Each other, this time to just relax there. It doesn't take long before both of them have dozed off, the first peaceful sleep either have gotten recently.

[pinkiepiebones]

anyone else in the “desperately trying to fit the square peg of canon into the round hole of headcanon” seat? Also is there a way to say that without it sounding dirty?

Anyway. Have a ficlet.

Special Ghoul’s black eyes were almost impossibly wide. His curved talons pressed against the portion of his face plate where a mouth should have been were he human.

“Oh, babe,” he cooed (well, not so much ‘cooed’ as ‘telepathically boradcast the sensation of making a cooing sound and thanks to his damaged telepathic membrane the sensation registered as auditory speech to the listener,’ but that’s a lot to type).

Copia faltered. “You don’t like it?”

In the time it took for Copia to speak, Special’s glamour rippled up. His grey featureless face becoming pale peach and freckled, with a crooked nose and soft lips, his horns melted away, his feathers shorted into an approximation of human hair, his black eyes turned human and impossibly green, and worried eyebrows knit into existence above them.

“Oh no, no no babe! I love it!” He flicked his wrists and his talons receeded, turning into stubby human nails, his dark grey scales brightening to pale peach.

”It’s just- y’know surprising, is all. You been gone ages at that secret hospital-spa-whatever the fuck, and… yeah.”

Copia nodded, but his shoulders slumped. Clearly this was not the welcome home he had expected. Special, his ghoulfriend of thirty fucking years, reacted to his new nose and jawline like a child who had just opened a shitty birthday present.

Copia was fully ready to go sulk in his bedroom when Special’s shapeshifted palms carefully framed his face. The ghoul was standing almost nose-to-nose with Copia, his eyes darting all over, assessing. Special’s tail wagged slightly.

“I’m sad they took your moustache and the side-thingies,” Special said softly.

“But I’m glad you didn’t dye your hair like you mentioned in your texts,” he said, moving one hand to run his fingers through Copia’s greying hair. ”And I’m glad you didn’t get these-“ he softly drew the pad of his thumb over Copia’s forehead and down the outside of his left eye- “ironed out. I like your wrinkles.”

Special leaned up to kiss Copia’s nose and the Papa jerked back. “Sorry, sorry, I just-“ He gave Special a nervous smile. “The nose is still really sensitive. So’s the jaw.”

Special dropped his hands to Copia’s shoulders, still looking his boyfriend over. The hint of a smirk played at his shapeshifted lips.

”Got any sensistive parts that are safe for me to kiss?”

Copia grinned placed a gentle kiss on the ghoul’s soft forehead. “Maybe, maybe… I’m tired from my travels, though, so-“ He let out an undignified yelp when Special suddenly scooped him up as if he were an empty bag and not a full grown man.

”All that spa shit and you’re still tired? Well, I’ll take you to your room then, and you can have more cat naps while I curl up on top of you like the old times. No, no talk, is only casual intimacies now.”

[chupacabrasmustdie]

Today started off extra shitty, but the excellent @bugsieplusone​ made it a 100 times better with the following ficlet. Total OC kissing week material, starring her sole survivor, Molly Gould, and my shitty fictional prodigal son Ned Johnson (cue my 12-yo self squeeing like an excited idiot on the train). Thank you so much <3

Thundering footsteps come from the bottom of the hill. Molly incredulous that the Brotherhood have made good on a promise. Preston nudges her in the side. Creepy Croup manor, besieged by feral ghouls from a ferry run aground. The settlers unable to handle it call on the scant resources of the Minutemen, but they’re busy fighting fires elsewhere. Two soldiers in power armor approach. “Ned is the name, killing feral ghouls my game,” Ned says. Danse rolls his eyes, Molly supresses a laugh.

“You look familiar. Do I know you?” Molly says and tilts her head. Red hair, freckled, ginger haired and green eyes. If they were side by side you’d think they could be siblings. Up close though, his jaw is jutting and square, where Molly’s is fine and pointed. His eyes of green have a sparkle of mischievousness where her eyes of grey blue are layered with sadness. Still, the spark of recognition sees her remembering a time before the war, one where she laughed and danced.

Danced. Now she remembers. She thought he was rude. “How much do you weigh?” he asks as he grabs her hand and pulls her onto the dance floor. He wears baggy pants and a loose shirt, Nate, his commanding officer gives Molly a wink and nods. “Just watch out, Johnson here is a two legged animal on the dance floor.” The freckled soldier makes her giggle like a teenager, his arms tight around her torso. When he swings her into the air she’s never felt lighter.

His feet move as if they’re on air, as if the troubles of the world live in another universe. Molly soars like a paper plane as he Lindy whips her around then moves into a Texas Tommy. “Life don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing,” he says as the music breaks for the next song. Molly extends her hand and he looks at it and laughs, takes it and pulls her close and pecks her on the mouth. “You’re a real swell gal, Mrs Gould.” She leaves the dance rosy cheeked and light headed.

“All of them? The whole boat load?” Molly says. “Yes Ma’am,” Danse replies. She looks to Preston and shrugs, the job done easily. They stay and Molly catches Ned on the porch as Preston organises supplies with Danse. “I know you,” she says. “You dance well.” He stares at her and laughs, “There was a star danced, and under that was I born,” he replies. Molly laughs and a sudden wooziness hits her at the memory. As they leave Ned turns to her, “You’re a real swell gal, General Gould.”

[vhyral]

Blooded Hands, Bleeding Hearts

How do I do this?

Pairings: Anna Hawke x Fenris, Reyna Hawke x Orsino, Garrett Hawke x Anders, Vatriel Mahariel x Zevran Arainai

Worldstate: Vatriel Mahariel is the Hero of Ferelden and Warden Commander, Garrett, Reyna and Anna Hawke are the three older siblings of Carver and Bethany Hawke with Reyna being the Champion of Kirkwall

Setting: Garrett and Anna Hawke have accompanied the Inquisitor to the siege of Adamant Fortress. This ficlet follows the party’s last moments in the Fade and the aftermath of the battle. Fenris and Anders arrive in Skyhold, seeking their respective Hawkes.

Words:  4775

Her hands are slick with red, her daggers slowly sliding out of her tightly clenched grip. The ghouls- no, the demons- whatever the corpses with the milky eyes and the black teeth are, they melt into nothing once slashed open and leave scars on her as farewell gifts. The Fade-air is thick and liquid when she breathes between strikes, clinging on the rogue’s clothes and dumping her hair.

It is not made to be breathed by creatures of flesh and blood, Anna Hawke thinks. It feels like she’s choking on honey.

“We cannot delay!” Cassandra’s voice echoes, after the last of the demons has been reduced to dust. “It knows we’re here.”

The Inquisitor scrambles closer, the little elf’s features drawn as she speaks with the warrior, casting worried stares towards the kneeling Warden ahead. She whispers and motions and the Seeker grunts. Two minutes, she issues and joins Blackwall at his rounds, circling their perimeter, their boots sloshing through the muddy, ankle-deep waters. Meanwhile, the bald mage walks to the Inquisitor and leans closer to her as if to share a thought. The wild boy with the hat- Cole- trips right behind him, tagging at his robes. Solas’ eyes have been sparkling with awe non-stop, even when they meet with the Fade horrors. Anna frowns and turns to her brother.

Garrett is at her side like always, his armor glinting under the dim green fade-light. He has been there since they fell into this pit of magic and uncertainty, guarding her back, and for a second, between the smoke and the smell of his thunderbolts scorching the stones near her feet, it feels the faintest like Kirkwall, like the life they had built with blood and sweat before being forced to flee again.

“I never thought I’d miss the smell of Darktown’s sewers yet here we are.” She gives him a tired smile and Garrett shines her one of his own, crooked and soul warming.

"Don't let Varric hear you say that." he laughs.

“I’m literally right over here, Hawke.” The dwarf rolls his eyes at them from where he had perched himself during the fight, on top a nearby rock. A fade-rock. It would not surprise Anna if it sprouted legs and began crawling around with the dwarf riding it like a mighty stead carrying him into battle.

"We will be fine.” Garrett promises, scratching at the remnants of a demon’s claws on the dark metal around his neck. “But we have to move. Soon.”

Further down the narrow path, the Warden Commander is on her knees, her elven lover’s arms around her, holding her close, holding her stable. Her own hands squeeze over her lower abdomen, paperwhite and trembling as she heaves.

"Visiting." Fenris says to the guard that stopped them underneath the Inquisition flags, right before they crossed the huge wooden doors. Behind him, a man is yelling to another guard, trying to gain access to the castle for his goat while a gilded wagon attempts to drive through the doors only to be stopped by flailing Inquisition soldiers.

Morning had already passed when he and Anders had caught the first glimpse of Skyhold from across the rocky mountain landscape, the snow on its tallest towers thick and glistening to the evening sun. The Grand Gates of the stronghold were still wide open when they reached them, letting the colorful, loud crowd of soldiers, merchants and refugees come and go under the watchful eyes of the guards.

"We were invited by Varric Tethras. Here."

The letter comes out neatly folded if not a bit worn out from use- a pretty stellar condition after having travelled half of Thedas in the chest pocket of his cloak. The other man's eyes flutter quickly over the few written lines, straight to the signature at the bottom of the page. There isn't much for him to skip and after weeks of reading it by the campfire, Fenris knows each word by heart.

Broody, it reads, I tried to convey your words to our dearest Hawke. I truly did, once. I'm sorry but for all my charms, Stabby seems to be having none of it- the answer is still no. The hiss I received must have been the shortest conversation I've have had since the Seeker ceased attempting to communicate with me with grunts. The Inquisitor says any friends of mine are welcome in Skyhold- Chipper's a good kid but unless you want your head shaved by an angry redhaired, I'd advise you against accepting any kind of invitations for this part of Thedas.

Then a scratched up line, like someone had snatched the parchment up and managed to scribble a few words before the letter was retrieved. Fenris, the big cursive letters almost screamed with her voice, you over worrying fool! We’ve talked about this. Extensively. I am a grown ass woman and I PROMISE I will roast you with red peppers if I see one lock of fucking white hair around-

These words he read every night before going to sleep. She had not written to him after reaching Skyhold. Too dangerous, too easy to get stolen and Anna never had enough patience to slap down a code instead of her bare thoughts. There was a huge smudge of inked fingertips after her scribbles and above Varric’s signature and the guard’s eyebrow raises noticeably when he reaches the part.

“Master Tethras is usually in the Main Hall this time of the day.” Fenris accepts the letter back with a nod and folds it carefully, slipping it back over his heart.

“He’s not here.”

The elf is stomping around in circles in front of the table one of the kitchen servants guided them to when they asked for Master Tethras. It is small and round, made of well polished pine wood and placed strategically in front of one of the Hall’s many fireplaces. Varric isn’t there but his papers are- stashed parchments, books, ink bottles and more pens than one single dwarf could possibly use neatly organized in one corner.

Anders, strangely, has claimed for himself the seat closer to the fireplace. He is now deftly swirling a pen between his fingers, making its short, black feather jolt and shed a little. His hood has been thrown back- leaving it on would attract more eyes than taking it off, he scoffed when Fenris grimaced. True, with the poor excuse of a beard he has grown around his chin, comically resembling Garrett’s- Fenris had tried not to snort the first time he had seen it-, his golden hair cut short and greying, the mage looks roughly ten years older and is hardly resembling the man that once set Kirkwall- and perhaps the whole of Thedas- on fire.

“You’re… feigning calmness.” Fenris side eyes him. Anders had been restless during their ride through Ferelden, pushing his horse forward to lengths he usually wouldn’t try to reach, spending nights awake and staring at the fire flakes as they rose towards the night sky. Now, he sits idly back on the chair, seemingly relaxed. Yet, after a second, more careful glance, it is obvious that he’s doing a shitty job at concealing it- the mage’s shoulders are visibly stiff and his features drawn, lips pressed together as he keeps his eyes squarely on the pen.

“It’s called keeping a low profile.” he murmurs, stealing a glance around the main hall. People had stared for a bit when they had first entered but visitors are nothing new for Skyhold and after an hour, they now are as good as another piece of decoration. “They’re in an emergency meeting and since you didn’t want to give your name and we can’t quite give mine, we weren’t even announced. No one's going to come running out of there to meet us any time soon.”

Fenris lets out a groan. They are so close, this waiting is killing him. The rumours have been bad but the uncertainty they carried is the worst of it all and the elf can feel himself almost vibrating where he stands, his hands flexing from and into fists at his sides.

The Champion of Kirkwall has fallen. Hawke is dead.

Both Anders and him had walked the long way to the Inquisition’s stronghold with one thought tormenting them every passing hour.

Which Hawke?

The ‘Champion of Kirkwall’ had been left as an open term on purpose, for safety, and they had all agreed to it. It was once the title Reyna Hawke carried, her legacy from almost being impaled on the Arishok’s spear during what now was one of the most widely known duels in Thedas. Yet even in the very city of Kirkwall, the title had been changing hands from one day to the other- after all, there were three Hawkes with exceptional abilities and where Reyna would clean a street in Hightown from thieves, Anna would locate someone’s lost kid the next day and both deeds would be deemed as done by the Champion. When they fled, rumor mingled with gossip and the Tale of the Champion, expertly written as to not give out much about the Champion’s family, had obscured the fact that there were more Hawkes running around Thedas than anyone could ever handle.

But Reyna never set foot in Skyhold, both of them are sure about that. The last letter that had arrived with her sand colored hawk barely a month ago spoke of Antiva and a small, sunny room rented near the Port. It spoke of the sudden decline of Orsino’s health and her reluctant- yeah, right, Anna had laughed- decision to aid the elder mage until he overcame his illness. Thus, only two Hawkes had ever arrived at Skyhold, no matter how strongly Fenris had opposed to the idea when Anna had come to him to talk. And now, someone is supposedly dead and he can feel his chest hurt every time he catches himself wishing that it isn’t her.

He scans the grand hall around him. Dust is dancing in the sunlight pouring in from the huge glass windows, swirling over the lit torches lining its walls. An elf in scout armor is walking their way and he takes a step to the side, placing himself in her path.

“Serah.” he calls. She blinks his way, one of her ears twitching over short, red hair. He gives her a second for the usual quick scan of his face. Her eyes widen the slightest to his tattoos and Fenris asks.

“Where to the Ambassador’s room?”

“What are you planning to do?” Anders is on his feet and following him closely as Fenris walks with long, sure strides across the Hall.

“I’m going to announce myself.”

“It’s impossible to outrun that!”

There’s blood running down Cassandra’s forehead as she yells, her eyes stuck up and glinting dangerously under the green Fade fires. The smell of sulfur is on the air, burning their noses, the hissing of raw Fade energy hissing at the edges of their hair, remains of the recent battle against the Nightmare.

“Go!” comes a hoarse order from behind their backs, “I’ll keep it busy.”

“Have you gone insane?!” Anna has never heard Zevran’s voice ring as thickly and ominously as right now. He grabs the Warden Commander’s arm when she swirls around, his fingers closing in what looks like a death grip. “We’re going.” he growls at her.

“Since when are you making my decisions for me, Zevran?” she hisses back, trying to shake his hand off but the muscles on the Crow’s arm flex and he tags her closer instead, her boots splashing through the murky waters. She glares daggers at him and he shakes his head.

“Since you, my dear Warden, seem to have lost your good judgement.”

“This is NOT the time for this!” Cassandra howls at the same time as a bellow crashes into their ears- the demon is recovering and it will soon be coming for them.

“Knives and fire and steel that cuts, too real, too solid, permanent, burning! Gut them, burn them, chain them up and drink them dry!” Cole wails and then doubles down and holds his head, grunting in pain. The Inquisitor rubs a comforting hand down his back.

“I can give you at least five.” Mahariel insists. “Run and you’ll make it. I have fought uglier things that this in the past.”

“Andraste’s flaming underpants, Vatriel-”

Thunder booms behind them and Anna jumps.

“If you could hurry it up a bit, thank you very much.” Garrett huffs from their rear guard. He raises his arms above his head and lets lightning rain down upon the few demons that have found the courage to slither through the scorched battleground from before and come after them. “I mean it’s not like we have a giant spider coming for our sorry asses here or anything. I can handle this, sure.”

Anna turns around, teeth tearing at her lips as she adjusts the grip on her carved knives. Her muscles still feel sore from their recent fights as she steps towards the demons, melting into the shadows. All she wants is warm food and cold beer and to put her feet up in front of a fireplace without something being out for her neck.

“Go back. To being. Fucking mist.” she hisses as she plunges a dagger deep enough into a ghoul’s eye, it sinks to the hilt. An arrow zooms by her ear as Varric falls into work alongside them.

“I can put up a shield.” she hears the Inquisitor’s voice. “It can hold for a while until you all get out of here and I’m a fast runner-”

“Not open for discussion.” the Seeker cuts her and Lavellan groans.

“Cassandra-”

“A barrier could indeed be held for longer than usual here in the Fade.” Solas offers. “But to risk sacrificing you would be ill adviced if not mindless.”

“This is the Wardens’ fault, all of it.” The Commander’s voice sounds adamant. “No, Zevran. This is MY responsibility.

“It is not even just YOU that would have to stay back anymore!” the Antivan snaps. Anna throws her dagger to a nearby crawling spiderling. It hits it square between its open jaws and it evaporates with a screech. “Good riddance, you freaky nug.” Garrett laughs. “Good one, kid.”

“Sir? Sir, please! You cannot go in there!”

Josephine finds herself at a loss when the strangers first storm right through her doors. She has no meeting arranged for the next three hours and the Council is not yet done. She had briefly returned to her desk to fetch a couple of official documents when the door had swung open, smooth on well oiled hinges. It hits the wall behind it with a bang, making her jump and sending several of the parchments she had been carrying to the floor.

“This area is off limits!” she states now, sharpening her tone and stepping forward to quickly slip her body in between the unknown pair of men that rushes inside and the inner door that leads to the War Room. A flutter of her eyes and the scout that had arrived seconds earlier to deliver a report quietly excuses himself back to the Hall. Hopefully the guards will be here soon enough. “You can’t just barge in here like this, gentlemen, please. We can talk this out.”

“Apologies, Serah,” the elf at the front stops a few steps away from her and speaks, looking her square in the eyes, “but we have come to see the Hawke siblings.”

His pupils are big, expressive and brightly green, mesmerizing as he firmly holds her gaze, and Josephine gives him a quick appraisal now that he is finally standing still instead of marching towards her.

“I’m afraid the Council is private-” she begins.

And then she sees them, where they’re poking from his scarf, around his neck and up his chin, the white tattoos with the faint blue iridescence that curl against dark skin. The ambassador knows better than to let her surprise show- she lets the initial rush of adrenaline of having this very elf right in front of her, here in Skyhold, pass. The man behind him shifts on his feet and Josephine eyes him carefully. He is wearing a hood that partially hid his face but she can make out the tiniest hint of blonde. She inhales sharply- if that is who she thinks he is, Cassandra won’t be happy at all.

Then comes dread- they are here for a reason. They are here for Hawke.

“Serah Fenris. Serah.” she motions towards the chairs of her office. “If you have a minute.”

“Go!”

Varric’s face is a mess of pain, loss and bitter understanding. “Garrett.” he croaks.

“The woman is with child, Varric.” The tall man rolls his staff in his hands before looking up, clear blue eyes meeting with the deep green of the Warden Commander. “And who’s better suited to fight in the Fade than a mage?”

“My brother,” he says loudly for her to hear, “he’s a Warden. If you meet Carver Hawke, let him know that his brother was very proud of him. Tell him his brother loved him, dearly, deeply, always.”

“That should embarrass him out of his grief pretty quickly.” he chuckles.

“No! Garrett!” Anna lunges herself at him, a hand grasping his wrist, the other one closing into a fist around the fabric of his garments. “This is bullshit!” she roars. “You’re not staying here! I’m not leaving you in this hell!”

She glares at him and Garrett gives her a small, weary smile- his free hand finds its way to her cheek and cups it softly- he smells of blood and sweat and ash but so does she and it’s a familiar smell.

“There’s no other way.” His voice is soft. “We will never outrun the Nightmare.”

She can feel a lump forming in her throat, the familiar pressure behind her eyes. She grits her teeth instead and shakes her head violently, scanning the area around them. They can hide, they can split up and try to confuse it, she can knife the demon in its blasted, cursed eyes-

His hand, still warm on her cheek, tags gently, guiding her eyes back on his face, keeping them there. Garrett’s cheeks and forehead are smeared with black and his lower lip sports a blood red cut- his breathing is hitched but he’s smiling softly at her and the rogue feels her chest constrict.

“There’s no other way, Anna.” he breathes. His forehead comes to meet with hers and her hands let go of everything to come cup his temples, her fingers hooking into his hair. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry it came to this. You’ll have to explain to Reyna, Bethany… to Anders-”

“I’m staying.” Her voice is ragged, her lips dry. “If you’re staying, I’ll be with you to the end.”

“Anna…”

“No, no!” she hisses. “You get to throw your life away but I can’t do the same for you? I’m staying, Garrett. You are my- I’m not going, I’m not losing you.”

Varric’s voice is hoarse behind her. “Kid…”

“Varric.” Her heart is fluttering like a caged bird now- her body trembles in the thought of what’s to come and then steels, warms up and tightens as she turns to face the dwarf. She didn’t come seeking death but leaving Garrett behind feels like a death in its own and she won’t have it. In a corner of her mind, somewhere, a small voice whispers- maybe with the two of us, we can win, we can make it, the two of us, together.

“You have to write to him.” she tells the dwarf. “Fenris. Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I love him, now and forever.”

Varric’s face twists into a mass of pain to her words, his knuckles turning white where he holds Bianca. “Kid,” he shakes his head, “not like this.”

Something explodes in the distant and the ground underneath their feet shakes, the rumbling that echoes through the air growing louder instead of dying down. Anna unsheathes her knives as Blackwall lets out a war cry.

“We don’t have any more time!” he yells. “We have to leave. NOW!”

“And so, we’re out of time.” Garrett huffs.

“Wha-”

She turns- and then her limbs suddenly feel heavy, getting glued into place with every muscle that she tries to move.

“Garrett!’ she croaks bewildered. “Garrett, what-”

His hand is pointing towards her, lit with arcane energy and deep lines form on his forehead as she stares at him. Light pillars flicker around her and that’s when she realises the spell being cast on her.

“Spirit Cage?” she shouts. “Spirit Cage, on ME? Garrett! Let me go! Let me go right now!”

“Varric!” her brother yells instead. “Blackwall! Get her out of here, NOW!”

“No! NO!” The men’s hands are on her shoulders then, around her waist, pulling her, dragging her with them and Anna struggles against the invisible ropes that keep her arms from pushing them away, her legs from kicking. She’s being carried away and for every second passing, Garrett’s getting further away as he flexes his arms and firmly grabs his staff.

“Garrett!” she screams. People are yelling around her as they run. Blackwall is grunting under her weight and Zevran’s voice is encouraging his wife forwards from somewhere at the head of the line but all Anna can see is the tall man they’re leaving behind, the glinting of the ice blue gem of his staff, like a beacon in a sea of green.

“GARRETT, NO! NOT LIKE THIS! GARRETT!” Her throat feels like being teared up from the inside out. “GARRETT!”

At the distance, her brother looks back one last time and his voice carries over the ominous rumble when he yells.

“I love you.”

The words reach her just as the monstrous demon breaks through the hill hiding them from its view all this time. It comes with its million legs thrashing and an explosion of flying rocks and fire and Garrett turns to face it, small in the distance and with his armor shining with swirling mana.

She doesn’t feel remorse when the spell loosens and she beats against Blackwall’s helmet with all the strength she can find in her, when she kicks Varric in the shoulder while trying to break free. She doesn’t see the rift’s edges when they jump through it and crash against hard stone, knees and elbows bleeding as they scrape against the floor.

She only keeps on screaming as she’s held back from jumping back in, someone’s arms around her own, Varric’s hands against her chest as the Inquisitor stands and waits for a heartbeat and then for some more and when no one comes through, she finally raises her hand and blinding green flashes.

She screams harder than ever when he can’t hear her anymore.

“… Kid?”

Anna jumps, knocking down one of the flags the Inquisition advisors use to pinpoint missions on their map.

“Shit.” she mutters and reaches down. The damned thing has rolled further down the war table and she gets on her knees to get it. “Fuck.” she repeats. “Sorry.”

She straightens back up and catches the Inquisitor stealing a glance at her. Lavellan’s eyes are clouded but she averts them fast when Anna stares back and turns to where Leliana and Cullen are bickering.

“You ok?”

Varric usually doesn’t participate in Council meetings- a case has come up deeply connected to Kirkwall though and his presence has been requested. He has not taken the task with joy but he has come nonetheless. Anna knows he is here mostly for her. He has been trying to be in her immediate perimeter ever since they returned from Adamant Fortress.

She wishes he didn’t.

“Are you?” she rumbles.

Pain flashes across the dwarf’s face and the rogue feels the sting of her words coming right back at her.

“Damn it, Varric.” she sighs. “Sorry. I… don’t- this… it’s difficult.”

“I know.” He scratches his chin, absentmindedly staring at the advisors and the Inquisitor trying to find some middle ground over a mission. “Believe me, Kid, I know.”

“Did you write? To everyone.”

He shakes his head.

“The words won’t come.”

How do you write about something that doesn’t feel real? Several days have passed and still, whenever she manages to make herself faint, late at night, she wakes up the next morning with a few blissful seconds where everything feel like just another dream. Where Garrett bangs on her door with plates full of pancakes. Where Dog and her are a warm mess on her bed, the mabari drooling on her hair. And then, Garrett never comes and Dog is old and a world away from her, with the other half of her heart, and she has to truly wake up and keep on going, living, in a world with muted colors.

She has to write to Fenris, to let him know that she is alive, that she is ok. She knows but her fingers refuse to ink the words and the parchment is waiting half empty on her desk.

“What is taking Josephine so long?” Leliana wonders from the other side of the table. “It has been ten minutes already.”

“I should go check.” the Inquisitor turns. “Maybe she needs some help.”

There it is, a window out of this room, away from talks for future expeditions- all she wants at the moment and so Anna sets the little flag back on the table. “Let me. I could use some fresh air.”

“Ask her to bring all recent correspondence with Duke Dumont, yes?”

“No, not you, Varric.” Cullen calls when the dwarf motions to follow her to the door. “We just got to the requests from Kirkwall, we need your assistance.”

Varric shrugs, gives her a strained look and drags himself back to the war table, looking not pleased at all. Anna on the other hand rather prefers this turn of events- he is so stricken with grief and she can’t deal with this right now. She needs space.

“Later, Varric.” she waves, letting the doors close behind her.

She is glad no one has fixed the hole in the wall between the war room and Josephine’s office. She gives herself a second to stand before it, letting the setting sunlight blind her eyes and the breeze caress her face. It almost feels like a touch across her cheek.

“Josephine?” she calls, pushing down the handle to the dark door leading to the ambassador’s office. “Leliana is looking for you- oh, visitors. Excuse me-”

One of the men standing over Josephine’s desk is covered from head to toes, a dark cloak around thin shoulders and his head hidden underneath a hood. He is hunched over the various papers and talking to the ambassador with a low voice- tension is radiating from where his hands have clutched the rim of her desk, bony fingers white from his tight grip.

It feels fishy and she discreetly moves one hand to the dagger at her waist. The man standing next to him, clothed in similar travelling clothes and with white hair caught into a tight ponytail, turns sharply the moment her voice rings across the room.

Anna takes it all in at once, in a moment- the green of his wide eyes, the arch of his nose. The red ribbon keeping his hair in place. The glint of sharp teeth when he opens his mouth.

“Fenris?” she manages before going airborne, strong arms closing around her waist and burning hot lips crashing onto her own and he breathes his next word right into their kiss.

“Anna!” he growls. “Anna, Anna, Anna!”

Her own hands find his back instinctively, nails digging in and holding on to him desperately- the kiss is long and fiery, an explosion of colors and rapid hearbeats and for a glorious moment, she forgets everything that isn’t him. It leaves her heaving for air when he finally puts some space between their faces, both of them breathing hard into each other’s arms.

“You’re here.” Fenris whispers feverently, one hand reaching up to smooth her hair, guiding her head to rest against his neck. “You’re here, you’re safe.”

The rogue nods, her throat blocked for a moment. She can smell the road on him, the dust and the horse hair and underneath all that, his aroma that reminds her of nights under the sheets and warm arms around her back. Her eyes burn and she pushes against his chest a bit- she wants to see his eyes again, his face, him.

“How?” she croaks once words finally seem to return as an option of response. “What are you doing here?”

Fenris’ expression clouds to her question and his eyebrows lower menacingly over his eyes, a hint of anger finding its way to his now tightly pursed lips, to the sharp line of his jaw. His hand finds the side of her neck and squeezes firmly.

“What was I doing away from here is the right question. We heard the rumours, Anna. I thought you were dead!”

“I’m not dead.” she shakes her head. “I’m not…”

We?

“Anna?”

She freezes. It is the voice she dreaded to hear. Not here, not yet. She is not ready for this.

She looks behind Fenris, where the cloaked stranger has let his hood fall back over his shoulders. Golden hair shine under the last sun rays and she spots the red scarf around his neck.

“Where is Garrett?” asks Anders.

@forthelifeofoneburglar, @notyourinquisitormate, it’s been a while so here it is again. I’m almost done with the second part so I thought I should remind you you should reread it before the next assault of angst.

[moony-ghoul]

moon, my love, what gets ant really going? what makes him leak???

hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehheheheheeheh

ant didn’t think they had any weak spots for a while, they liked praise and degradation, they liked getting tossed around, getting tied up, the usual things. there wasn’t really anything that got to them in a way that stood out

swiss had them pinned to the bed, one hand holding their arms above their head, the other had a bruising grip on their hip, thrusting into them hard and fast

this was normal. the press of swiss’ broad chest against their back, his hushed words in their ear in between panting and low moans

“so good baby- fuck- so fucking good for me”

ant feels the swell of their impending orgasm building in their gut, soon swiss will wrap a hand around their throat and shift them onto his lap when he cums deep inside, ant quickly following him

it’s their routine and its so fucking good, no complaints from either party on that one

ant prepares themself as swiss’ thrusts become more erratic and their moans crescendo, their orgasm builds and builds as they wait swiss’ silent permission

but it never comes

ant looks back at swiss confused as his movement comes to a stops, his cock still throbbing inside them. the glint in swiss’ eye makes ants heart drop to their dick

swiss’ claws drag bluntly down ants back, light red lines forming on the white side of the ghoul. he places a kiss between their shoulder blades, right where both colours meet

“you’re so pretty you know?” he mumbles, more soft kisses along ants shoulders

they whine lightly in response, dick dripping onto the blanket below, “swiss- please move”

“i wanna hear you say it, tell me you’re pretty, baby” his breath is hot against ants ear, shiver running down their spine

swiss starts moving again, slow and deep and so fucking precise that it makes ants head spin

“s-swiss-“

“cmon say it, you’re so pretty, you know it. tell me how pretty you are, princess”

something snaps in ant as swiss accentuates his words with each thrust and they’re suddenly crashing over the edge, cumming over the bed with an overtly feminine moan

their legs give out without swiss holding them up, not caring about their mess squelching against their stomach

ant slowly comes back down to earth to the feeling of swiss rubbing circles into their sides and the sound of him giggling in their ear, his still hard cock now resting against the small of their back

“what?” they try to snap at him but it comes out croakier than they’d like

“just didn’t expect that to set you off so fast”

they groan and go to cover their face with their arm but swiss grabs them, “nuh uh no hiding from me, princess”

ant winces as their spent dick kicks

they’re stuck in a horny hell from then on out, it feels close to blackmail. swiss almost gets off on how much a reaction he gets from such a simple word

“good job, princess” and a slap on the ass after a ritual almost makes them eat shit as their knees buckle

ant wandering into the kitchen extra sluggish to be greeted with swiss handing them a cup of coffee and a kiss on the head, mumbling “for my pretty princess” wakes them up more than any amount of caffeine could

they take their hand at domming one night, tying swiss to a chair and teasing his slick cock with their mouth

“cmonnn,” he whines “suck me like you mean it, princess”

ant swallows swiss down so quickly he screams

its awful

ant loves it

[moony-ghoul]

moony zoomy can i pwease have your thots abt swissphantom they mean sm to meee <3

lately i’ve been thinking about ant getting sick for the first time topside and while on tour and just how miserable they’d feel and how swiss would instantly be in mama mode

emetophobia warning below the cut

ant wakes up feeling gross, everything hurts and they’d do anything to crawl back into their bunk and cry out all the pain

they drag themself through the day much quieter than usual, trying to hide their wince at every movement. the ritual is hell and it takes everything in them to not collapse on stage into a messy sobbing ball of ghoul, their joints scream at them, their skin prickling with sweat under the heavy stage lights despite how cold they feel

swiss’ hand finds their back once they make it off stage, ant tries to not flinch away from the contact to their already hypersensitive self

“just gotta make it to the hotel, bug” swiss whispers into their hair, planting a kiss along with his words

they give a small nod in response, brain too exhausted to find any words

ant sticks themself to swiss’ side throughout the car ride, headphones on, hoodie pulled tight in an attempt to block out as much noise as possible. swiss wraps an arm around them as they curl into his chest

the second their hotel door shuts behind them ant lets their glamour drop with an exhausted sigh, tail immediately wrapping around their own leg

a wave of nausea rolls over them and they make a b line to the bathroom

they’re vaguely aware of swiss behind them as they collapse in front of the toilet, gaging loudly and painfully as the contents of their stomach come back up. they’re not sure how long they spend in front of the toilet, swiss feels his heart break with each defeated whimper and cry that comes out of ant

“im dying” they whine, stomach cramping again as the seemingly never ending foul bile fills their mouth again

“oh baby” swiss rubs small circles onto their back, “it’ll be over soon, we’ll get you cleaned up and we can have a sleep. you’re being so strong, bug”

ant doesn’t feel strong as they let out yet another sob, too tired to fight their body to keep their sounds to themself

at some point swiss gets up and grabs a wet wash cloth to cool the back of ants neck, it helps, their entire body is on fire. by the time their stomach settles they feel disgusting, face wet with tears, body covered in a layer of sticky sweat and a gross taste residing in their mouth

swiss places a kiss on their shoulder, they’re sure they look as bad as they feel but when they meet swiss’ eye hes still smiling at them like they’re the most beautiful creature on earth

“you ready to get cleaned up?”

ant nods weakly

“okay do you want me to help or you think you can do it on your own?”

they don’t give a verbal response but their tail wraps around swiss’ forearm and that’s as much as he needs to help the small ghoul to their feet

there’s so much love in swiss’ actions that ant feels like they’re being swallowed with it. he holds their face gently to brush their teeth, he scratches lightly at their scalp as he’s washing their hair, gives them a slight squeeze as he’s drying them off

swiss dresses them in all his own clothes, grey boxers and an old souvenir aquarium shirt from a date with rainy many years ago, they’re both well worn and hang loosely off of ants much smaller frame but they’re soft and smell like swiss so they have no complaints

ant curls around swiss once they’re in bed, resting their head on chest, the spade of their tail slips between their lips and they nibble on the thick skin. swiss wraps an arm around their waist and carefully massages their still aching stomach

swiss loads up a movie for some white noise, ants brain is too foggy to figure out what it is. they’re engulfed in swiss’ scent as sleep slowly starts to drift then away

he smells like coffee and woodsmoke

he smells warm and strong

he smells like home

[moony-ghoul]

Gibve blankie Dew thoughts

Plez? 🥺

YEAH YEAH YEAH BLANKIE DEW

it all started with dew collapsing into rains bed one night. he was exhausted, stressed out of his mind preparing for tour and the anxiety that comes with performing every night. despite how many rehearsals they do our shows they perform getting actually on stage is a big mental game for dew

and tonight he was too tired to keep playing

so naturally he treated himself to an unholy amount of mounts stash and crept in to spend the night cuddled up with his favourite water ghoul

rain doesn’t hear him enter, sitting on the edge of his bed, back facing the door and changing the strings on his bass. dews arms snake their way around his waist

“hello there” rain smiles down at the fire ghoul nuzzling his thigh. dew reeks of weed, making rain slightly annoyed he didn’t offer to share any

“let me finish up with this and we can cuddle okay?”

dew whines dramatically, throwing himself into the pile of plushies on rains bed

“you don’t love meeeee” he cries, throwing himself around like a kit throwing a tantrum

rain rolls his eyes, hiding his smile “i’ll only be a second, gotta have this ready for rehearsal tomorrow”

dew mumbles something rain doesn’t quite get, shoving his face into a dragon plushie. rain tries to go back to his instrument but is interrupted by dew poking him in the side with his toe

“could not go” he mumbles again, nuzzling into the plushie

rain turns to look at the fire ghoul, his face is obscured by the dragon but his shoulders are tense

“you know we can’t, dew.” rain sighs, rubbing dews calf softly “we leave in a week and phantom still needs help, we have to-“

“I KNOOOOWWW” dew whines again, throwing the dragon plushie at rain with very little force considering his hazey state. “…i’m sorry” dew says almost immediately after, voice soft again, “… can i- can.. you please uh give him back”

rain places his bass on the floor, he can finish it in the morning right now his ghoul needs him. he picks up the dragon and gives it back to dew before wrapping his lanky arms around him, trying his best to shield dew and his new friend from the world

they lay like that for a while, dew hugging the dragon close to him and rain holding him close to his chest. dew starts to purr softly

“so” rain starts, “do you wanna talk about it?”

dew rubs the soft dragon against his face again, “s nice”

“sorry?”

“dragon” dew states like its obvious “nice texture”

rain doesn’t end up getting his answer, but he knows dew well enough to figure it out in his own, even if dew is insistent on jumping around the topic of his stage anxiety

he wants to help, he hates seeing his ghoul hurt, but he’s truely at a loss. the next few days pass and dew only gets more stressed and more tense, the only time when rain gets a glimmer of his dew again is late at night when he stumbles into rains room stoned and picks up that same dragon plush

dew let’s put chirps and purrs as he runs his hands along the fluff of the toy. he sleeps with the dragon sandwiched between his face and rains chest. rain has no idea how he breathes at night like that, but if it makes dew happy he doesn’t think too strongly on it

their last night in the abbey comes around quicker than any of the ghouls wish. dew has been on edge all day, brows stuck in a furrow and lip trapped between his teeth. he doesn’t even smoke that night, he stands in rains doorway stone cold sober

dews eyes dart over the bed quickly, anxiously

“where is he?”

without context rain would have assumed dew was talking about an actual living, breathing kit

rain grins cheekily at dew. “i have a present for you”

“where is he?” dew asks completely ignoring rain

“you reminded me of something,” rain ignores him back, picking up the box hidden under his bed and handing it to dew. “it came with it when i first brought it, but i didn’t like the texture as much as you seem to”

dew looks between rain and the box, trying to figure out the catch. a cautious hand slowly removes the lid, he’s met with the dragon and a plush baby blanket, seemingly made of the same material

rain can’t read the emotion that flashes across dews face, he meets rains eye, the anxiety still sits there

dew takes a shakey breathe before speaking

“i don’t need-“

“do you want it?” rain stops him, “you can take them on tour if you want, they’ll fit in your backpack i already checked”

dews hands shake when he finally picks up his new gifts, he holds them to his face and takes a deep breath in

when he exhales he grins at rain, his adorable crooked fang grin. rain watches as the anxiety melts out of his ghoul finally

“they smell like you”

[moony-ghoul]

Blankie dew is still in my thoughts!!!!!!

lucky for you it’s still in mine too

dews grateful to finally have a night in an actual bed after weeks of uncomfortable bus bunks, even if that bed is in a hotel, even if his roommate of the night is phantom.

ant has a sleep talking problem. back in the abbey it’s not that bad but on the road nobodies sleeping well so it’s only gotten worse. dew drew the short straw when it came to picking room arrangements for the night meaning he’s stuck sharing a bed with the chatty ghoul

they both get settled in and dew goes downstairs for a smoke before they go to sleep

however, once he’s back in their shared room he feels like he’s gotten the wind knocked out of him. sitting perfectly folded on the bed is his blankie with dragon resting on top

ants sprawled out across an arm chair not looking up from their phone while it feels like dews entire life is flashing before his eyes

he doesn’t know if he should bring it up, almost like not mentioning it would make ant not notice the soft green toy and blanket. realistically dew knows they know, he didn’t bring them, he made sure they were safely in rains bag

dews stuck frozen in the doorway trying to make sense of the situation in front of him when ant finally speaks up. “you good?”

ant speaks so casually as of dew isn’t considering diving out the window to avoid even further embarrassment. they follow dews eyeline to the pile on the bed

“you seemed stressed,” they shrugged, “i asked rain for it. it might help you sleep better”

“he” dew corrects before he can catch himself, immediately wishing the earth would swallow him while and take him back to the pit

ant smiles softly at dew, not that he’s looking at them anyway, eyes still glued to dragon

“i get why you like him, he’s real soft”

“how did you- i never-“

“i saw you once,” ant explains not letting dew finish, “after a show a few weeks ago, you’d been on edge all day, went through ��bout a pack and a half. you didn’t seem like yourself until you had that blanket in your hands”

dew finally makes his way over to the bed slowly, running a cautious hand across the fabric like it might fall apart if he’s too rough. ant has a similar approach to dew

“its okay to need a bit of extra comfort sometimes, ya know? no need to be embarrassed about it. shits just stressful and that’s okay”

tears start to blur dews vision, he doesn’t really know where they’re coming from, be it a level of shame finally be lifted off his shoulders or ant showing so much care and love in a simple action

or maybe the exhaustion is just finally getting to him

“t- thank you” it’s a choked off whisper, half getting caught in dews throat

“anytime man”

[moony-ghoul]

ant hurt/comfort with literally any ghoul pls lol i’m just sad and want ant to be held and told he’s good ! :(

okay time to finally tackle this one after it deleted itself last time i wrote it

BACK AT IT W MY FAVS

ants exhausted to put it simply

they felt it in their bones, a constant ache. they can’t remember when they last slept or when they had a meal, opting for quick bites when they become available

the ripped callouses on their fingers sting every time they move, reopening when they sit down for their 4th rehearsal of the day

but they can’t stop

aether left impossibly big shoes for them to fill, putting in any less than 110% effort isn’t an option. ant knows that they’re hurtling towards burning out. they don’t care. they don’t have the choice to not be perfect

it’s been months of pushing themself further and further. it started as hiding away for a few more extra minutes of practice by themself, that quickly turned into waking up in the middle of the night to strum out a few songs, and before they even had time to realise they seemed to be in a constant state of rehearsal. they skipped out on dinners out, skipped out on going to some shitty bar in whatever city they were in, they hid themself away every time.

if they were going to fuck up again they don’t want the other ghouls to see it

ant doesn’t feel conscious anymore, they never know if they’re actually on stage or not, they don’t know what city they’re in - hell they don’t even know what country they’re in anymore

their fucking hands keep shaking

it’s fucking everything up for them. they can’t play well with shakey hands. it causes an even heavier weight to settle in their chest

so they start planning

they’re gonna get to the hotel around 2am, then they have the next day off, then bump in at 10am the next day, then sound check at 2- or was it 1? are they gonna be in costumes for it? they’ll have to ask copia. will he be mad that they don’t know the schedule? what if-

a large hand covers theirs where it’s balled into a fist on their thigh

swiss’ head is still leaning back against the torn leather seat of the van, ant thought he was sleeping

“i can hear you thinking”

“sorry”

their voice sounds wrong coming out of their mouth, too small and broken

“it’s okay.” swiss gives their hand a light squeeze, “we’re gonna bump up together tonight, you can tell me what’s going on in ya head once we’re there”

ants throat goes dry, the weight on their chest doubles

the drive to the hotel goes quicker than they would’ve liked. the countdown to having to talk with swiss keeps ticking down

is swiss angry at them? why else would he want to talk? what have they done wrong?

the pair unpack in silence, usually ant finds this comforting now it just serves as a reminder of the impending doom

they wait for him to finish up his shower, resting against the headboard with their knees tucked tightly to their chest. some movies playing on the tv but they’re staring through it

ant doesn’t hear the click of the bathroom door, only coming back to earth when swiss’ hand lands on their leg

his smile is soft, it makes ant just collapse onto his chest and cry out all the exhaustion. but they don’t, they don’t know swiss’ intentions, this may all be a trap

swiss breaks the silence first

“what’s going on with you?”

his voice is gentle, like he stalking to a child. it makes ants head spin, they’re trying to understand the situation in front of them, trying to keep themself a step ahead of swiss but that’s very hard when they don’t know what’s going on

“…what?” they huff out in an almost laugh

“ant,” swiss says much more sternly this time, “somethings not right with you”

fuck

FUCK

that’s what this is about

he’s noticed. swiss has noticed. he knows how shit ant is, as a musician and as a ghoul. did copia set this up? is this how they’re planning on sending them back? because they’re not as good as aether

“you keep doing that”

can swiss hear their thoughts? is it some strange multi ghoul talent they don’t know about?

“doing what?”

“you keep disappearing, like you’re stuck in your own head.” swiss let’s out a shakey sigh. “let me in. please? i want to help you”

swiss’ hand rubs small circles into ants ankle, slowly breaking down the walls ant has built up so perfectly

“i- im fine-“

“no you’re not. you keep hiding away, you’re not eating, i doubt you’re sleeping either. i know you think nobody’s noticed but i’ve noticed. i see you, bug, please just let me in”

ant feels the dam breaking in their chest first, all that pressure that’s been building slowly cracking, once it does there’s no way for them to build it back up

their head falls to their knees as their sobs shake them. swiss’ arms wrap around them, glamoured nails scratch fully up and down their back

“i-i-i’m j-just so *sob* tired”

“i know, baby, i know. you’ve been working so hard, we all see it”

ant somehow starts crying harder, letting their knees fall and wrapping their arms around swiss’ waist, tears staining his shirt

after a few minutes their tears start to slow. somehow they feel even more exhausted than they originally were

swiss pulls them away from his chest, holding their head ever so gently, wiping tears away with his thumbs

“i just wanted to be good” ant whispers, “as good as aether”

ant watches as something in his expression shifts, he looks almost hurt?

“are you kidding? you’re already amazing, even at your first rehearsal you blew us all away. you’re not aether, but you’re you. you’re trying to compare land and sea here, bug. you’re a beautiful musician, you drive me crazy every night watching you, you captivate an audience in a way i’ve never seen before. stop trying to be aether and be phantom, cause you’re pretty fucking cool”

if ant had any tears left they’d definitely be crying again. instead they wrap their arms around swiss’ neck, tackling him into a tight hug, almost knocking him off balance

they mumble ‘thank you’s and ‘i love you’s into swiss’ hair before he repositions them to lay down

ant doesn’t let go of swiss for the rest of the night, falling into a very much needed sleep

[moony-ghoul]

some angst with ant and rain,, mean cold rain saying something that hits ant a little too hard and sends him spiraling :( maybe misdirected anger or maybe ant fucked up !

i was thinking about this exact situation yesterday but in a more nsfw context

(transmasc rain, mean rain goes too far)

ant was in a push and pull. they feel like they’re floating only to be violently dragged back down to earth with every agonising grind on their dick

their hands tied up behind their head keeping them trapped, connected to the headboard

they’ve already cum once, but that could have been hours ago, they’ve lost sense of time. the only tether to reality they have is where rain is touching them. his fingers digging into their waist, their dick buried in his wet cunt, the slow movement of their hips threatening to push them over the edge

“rain- rain- please i’m so- i’m gonn- fuck”

rain stops moving and glares down at them, “have some self control, darling.” he leans back, digging his claws into ants thighs for leverage and starts riding him in earnest

“you don’t get to cum until i do”

the change in angle is too much for ant. the clear view of themself sliding in and out of the water ghoul, his soft tits bouncing with each movement and the sounds fuck the light moans coming from rain mixed with slick soaked skin hitting each other

it’s all so much

it’s too much

ant tries to warn rain but it’s mumbled with the sobs racking through their chest as they cum

their relief is quickly ruined by the panic building within them

rain stopped moving, they don’t know when, their eyes are tightly squeezed shut

“imsorryimsirryimsorryimsorry”

tears flow strongly down their face despite how tightly their eyes are shut. another sob rips through them as they feel rain get off them and the bed. they can’t hear his movements over the sound of their own crying

“worthless”

the word feel like getting torn open with a knife

“i-im not i-i-i tried to-“

“worthless slut with a useless dick”

ant doesn’t even know where in the room rain is standing, his voice seems to echo inside their brain

their apologies fall out of their mouth on repeat but they don’t hear it. they try to curl in on themself, rope burning their wrists as they turn to their side

pain sparks in their shoulders as they struggle to free themself. did rain do this on purpose? tie them in such a way that they can’t free themself? or maybe they really are so useless that they just can’t figure it out

they can’t breathe

their skin is too tight

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

something snaps above them and they suddenly have free movement over their arms again

finally they open their eyes. blurry through the tears rain kneels next to them on the bed, one hand holding rope shears and the other rubbing small circles into ants hip. nothing but love and concern covers his face, all the bite from moments ago gone

“can you talk to me, bug?”

ant shakes their head softly, still shaken by the sudden turn of the scene

“that’s alright, love. i’m going to hold your hands, okay?”

rain takes the ghouls hands in theirs, removing the access rope from their wrists and rubbing smoothly over the angry red marks left behind

“i took things too far without checking in on you first and you got hurt and words can’t describe how sorry i am. you’re incredible, you did such a good job for me and you really tried hard, i know. you have nothing to apologise for.”

a fresh round of tears start to fall on ants cheeks, quickly wiped away by rain

“how about we go have a shower and i’ll order us some food? you can stay here tonight, we’ll watch a movie or something. how’s that sound?”

ant smiles softly, “good” their voice is still weak, but there nonetheless

rain kisses their hairline softly

“i love you. i love you so much, my lil love bug”