#@ghuleh-recs for the divider!

[wrathofrats]

Mushy May Day 10- quiet nights

Aethers overwhelmed in the infirmary. Omega and delta calm him down.

Thanks to @forlorn-crows for the prompts this month!

Aethers eyes stung.

He stared at the speckled white countertop while delta whizzed past him once again to check someone’s beeping iv. His head felt fuzzy, his vision felt far away. A pressure behind his eyes he could only hope wasn’t any real tears, just exhaustion. The sterility of the air made his stomach turn, an absent thought granted to wonder when the last time he ate was.

“Hey, are you doing alright?”

A large hand rested on aethers back. Omegas voice was comforting, almost too much so. Enough that the pressure behind aethers eyes only deepened as he attempted to blink away whatever tears were forming. It shouldn’t be overwhelming, just the knowledge that omega recognized his emotions and cared, but aether can barely speak beyond the handful of napkins that felt wadded in his throat to express that he was ok.

The silence was enough for omega. He remembers his first couple months topside. Always either touring, practicing, or attempting to tend to any sick or wounded siblings. A constant rotation of activity and need. Delta also barely held it together as well when he was first thrown into the rotation of being a quint, mostly being sent down to help in the morgue. Hes always been better with them anyways.

But staff was short, and something was going around the abbey. It was just a couple minutes past midnight before they all had even gotten the chance to breathe. Aether felt as if he was holding constant pressure on a wound. Enough attention and force to hold the blood in, until it eventually stopped. The moment to calm down leaving it to bleed freely.

The beeping from down the hall stopped. Silence fell over the wing as static rushed to fill the space in aethers head.

“Just take a second aether, sit down” omega pulled out a chair and lightly pushed on his shoulder to get him to sit. Aether played with his hands nervously in his lap. He feels like he had forgotten something, like there was a mistake he missed, like there had to be something else to do.

Delta soon walked back to take his own seat in the nurses station, giving omega a concerned look over aether state.

“Jellyfish, can you grab aether some water?” Omega said quietly over his shoulder “and maybe one of the expired granola bars”

“I’m fine omega” aether finally spoke, looking up at the older ghoul. “Just a long night, I can handle it”

“It’s ok if you can’t”

Omega pulled up another chair into their little triangle when delta handed him the small snacks. It was a nice peaceful moment between them, omega wondered how many times they’d been able to sit together without it being band or work related.

“You haven’t drank any water in 5 hours. You’re upset because you’re dehydrated and hungry” delta mentioned matter of factly. Aether had to snort at the bluntness, taking a small swig of his water.

“Again, I’ll be ok. I’ll get used to it, a lot happened tonight but it’s fine” the granola bar made him cringe. The spoiled plastic taste on his tongue making him take another larger drink of water. He would have to tell papa later they needed a better supply of food back here, though he’s sure the others have mentioned it.

“Even delta still can’t handle it aeth, that’s why we banish him to the morgue. So we definitely don’t expect you to be ok with everything so soon” omega joked, sending a lighthearted smile to delta.

“I thought they sent delta to the morgue because he made the siblings uncomfortable?”

“They did” delta said

They couldn’t help but all giggle with each other, half a joke and half a truth, but delta never minded.

“You’re doing great, kid, just know that. I’m proud to have you here with us. Besides, the siblings love you”

“They do?” Aether asked

“Yeah, one earlier said that she wanted you to take her temperature with your-“

“Delta” omega warned

#@ghuleh-recs for the divider! #I love delta #mushy may #delta au where he’s fine just a bit off putting #he’s a fucking creature I need to write regular delta more #the band ghost #ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #fanfic #wrath writes #omega ghoul #delta ghoul #aether ghoul #mushy may 2024

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 6: "You're Blushing"

Aeon and Swiss wake up after the first time they spent the night together.

Mushy May is put together by the lovely @forlorn-crows, and the divider was made by the wonderful @ghuleh-recs

This one does get a little suggestive, but other than that, no content warnings

The light filters in through the gap in the blackout curtains, a strip of sun landing square over Aeon's eyes. They whine, shifting as they wake, hissing when they open their eyes, the long injured one stinging in the light.

Aeon turns, burying their face into the warmth underneath them to try and hide from the rising sun when they realize it. Their mattress is a lot warmer than it normally is, even after a full night's worth of their body heat warming it. They open their eyes for real and just barely manage to bite back a squeak.

Swiss's staring down at them, golden eyes half-lidded and almost glowing in the early light, his bottom lip pinned between his fangs. He's been watching them sleep on his chest for Lucifer knows how long. "Mornin', buggy. You sleep well?"

Aeon feels a shudder run down their spine, all the way to the very tip of their tail, at the gruff sound of his voice, raspy with sleep. "Mhm," they hum, all of the memories from the night before filtering into their brain as they wake up a little more.

The way Swiss had wrapped his big hands around their hips. The just this side of pleasant soreness between their thighs. The ache of bruises on their neck and collarbone, trailing down their chest. The way he had made them show him just how flexible they were. The way both of their bodies are still bare, their clothes tossed in a haphazard pile on the floor.

A peal of laughter breaks Aeon out of their reverie. "Oh, I know what you're thinking about. You're blushing, buggy."

They dive back down, burying their face against Swiss's chest as they try to hide the way their face is flushing, probably nearly fluorescent violet at this point. His hand rests at the small of their back, his chest rumbling as he laughs softly.

"Aw, buggy, you slept so good you forgot, huh?" he croons, running a knuckle along the shell of their ear; it flicks against their head.

"Shuddup," they whisper, his chest hair coarse against their cheek. He smells of cinnamon and cloves and honey, and it's so intensely Swiss Aeon could almost cry.

"Nah, you're pretty when you blush. Wanna see it more."

"You're a sap, you know that, Swiss?" Aeon complains, though there's the obvious undercurrent of laughter in their tone.

"Course I do," he says, hand skating up their back to card through their dark hair. Aeon chuffs, shuddering as he gently rakes his claws against their scalp. "No point in hiding how I feel, bug."

He reaches with his other hand, carefully taking their chin between his fingers and tipping their head up. Aeon sputters before he catches their lips with his, soft and tender. When they break, Swiss pushes a strand of hair off of their forehead, and the look on his face is so fond it makes Aeon's chest hurt.

Aeon stretches, tail curling up like a cat as they bare their fangs in a yawn. Swiss curses as he yawns, Aeon's yawn contagious. His hand slides down their back, fingers just barely brushing the base of Aeon's tail. They jolt as electricity races up their spine, almost as if he had dosed them with quintessence, before bursting into laughter.

Swiss grins, nose crinkling up as he smiles. "Thank you for letting me into your bed, Aeon," he says, suddenly serious, but still smiling. "For letting me stay the night."

They chuff, ducking back down to tuck their face into the crook of his neck. He smells the sweetest here, skin warm with sleep. "Would you wanna stay?" They stammer, the blush coming back in full force; they bet Swiss can feel just how hot their cheeks get.

He tilts his head, rubbing one of his horns against Aeon's. "'Course I'd wanna stay," He hums, chuffing into their dark hair. "I had a good night last night, I'd like to do it again."

Aeon's tail wraps around his shin, squeezing the muscle gently, and their eyes flick up to meet his, one violet and the other a milky white. The spade of their tail taps against the mattress. "Me too."

Swiss doesn't reply, just stares down at the quintessence ghoul clinging to his chest, that same warm smile that makes Aeon feel like they're going absolutely insane.

He growls playfully, and Aeon yelps as they're flipped, Swiss leveraging his weight to pin Aeon on their back underneath him. Their chest heaves, staring up at him with wide eyes.

There's a glint in the multi-ghoul's eyes, and Aeon doesn't have a moment to process before Swiss lunges down, blowing a raspberry on the hinge of their jaw, just under their ear.

Aeon cackles, batting at his shoulders as he presses playful kisses up the line of their jaw. They can feel the scrape of his stubble against their skin, the way his cheeks dimple as he can't stop smiling. They don't mind waking up like this. They want to do it again, and again, and again, as long as Swiss will have them.

The way he's kissing them makes them think he wants it just as much.

#god i love swiss/aeon so unbelievably much #this made me giggle out loud writing it #dot's writing #mushy may 2024 #swiss ghoul #aeon ghoul #phantom ghoul #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #swiss/aeon

[iamthecomet]

𝔐𝔲𝔰𝔥𝔶 𝔐𝔞𝔶 𝔇𝔞𝔶 𝔒𝔫𝔢: ℭ𝔲𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔄𝔤𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫

Pairing: Raindrop Rating: G Words: 885 Mushy May prompts by @forlorn-crows Divider by @ghuleh-recs

Rain finds it hard to look at Dew when he’s like this. Hyper focused. Hands full. A little furrow dug in between fair eyebrows. Tongue pinned between his fangs, poking out just enough. Corners of his lips pulling down as he really gets into it. The world dissolving around him. 

It makes Rain want to kiss him. Or strangle him. Both. He should look away. They’re doing the sort of parallel play that they always do after a tour winds down. Instrument maintenance in an otherwise empty practice room. Dew cleaning and restringing guitar after guitar. Making little changes to help him out next time–things that are still fresh on his mind since they’ve only been home a few days. 

Dew’s sitting on the floor, cross legged. Guitar on his lap. Fingers flying over the frets. Headphones on–whatever he’s playing piped into his head alone. Rain gave up on his bass a while ago. It’s restrung, it’s clean. He has other things he could do–practice. Work on the little things he kept fumbling over. Start plucking out new bass lines for the album Papa says they need written write away. But he doesn’t bother.  He can’t imagine anything else he’d rather do than watch Dew. 

Dew’s one crooked fang digs into his lip when he really concentrates. He’s bent over the guitar now, head bobbing. Foot bouncing where it’s trapped beneath one of his skinny thighs. 

Rain loves to watch him play. He doesn’t get to often. Even when they practice it feels like a performance. And Rain has to focus on hitting all his marks, and not falling up the stairs, and not fucking up the song. And Dew–in those cases–isn’t like this. Isn’t small and quiet and himself. He is a persona on stage–most of it true to life, but this feels more genuine. 

And, he’s fucking adorable. The fans will never see him like this–Dew would see it as a weakness. Rain thinks that’s stupid but secretly he’s glad he gets to call this version of Dew his. 

He stands–he can’t help it. Can’t wait anymore. He puts his bass away. Dew doesn’t notice or look up–engrossed in his guitar, in the music. Head swaying, whisps of long golden hair coming loose from the bun at the back of his head to fall over his cheeks. Rain sits down behind him. Brackets Dew with his legs, careful not to bump the guitar as he does. He presses his chest right up against Dew’s chest, hands slipping down to rest at Dew’s waist. Gentle. 

He smells like weed and cinnamon. Rain inhales. Dew leans back against him a little. That’s the only indication Rain gets that Dew knows he’s there at all. That’s ok, Rain doesn’t really want attention. He just wants to watch. 

He hooks his chin over Dew’s shoulder and casts his eyes down. Watches those lithe fingers fly over the frets. Rain can hear the headphones now–can tell he’s practicing Phantom of the Opera solos–a song they’ve never even played live. Leave it to Dew to be the over achiever. Rain turns his head to look at Dew’s profile. Sharp cheekbones. Furrowed brow. A little peek of pink tongue sticking out between his fangs–both of them really digging into that bottom lip now. 

Rain wants to press his thumb to it–pull it free. But that seems–invasive. Distracting.  He nuzzles against him instead, tucking his face into Dew’s neck and shuffling as close as he can, like he wants to crawl into Dew’s skin with him. 

Dew picks up a raspy purr. It’s quiet–but Rain feels it. He’s not even sure Dew knows he’s doing it. Satanas he’s adorable like this. It’s unfair. Criminal. Rain can’t stand it. 

Before he realizes he’s doing it he’s opened his jaw and clamped down on the juncture between Dew’s neck and shoulder. He can’t help it–he doesn’t even know why he’s doing it. He just knows if he doesn’t put Dew in his mouth and rattle him around like a chew toy right now he’s going to lose it. 

Dew jolts.  “What the fuck, dude?” 

Dew stops playing, rips the headphones off, he looks down at Rain. Furrow in his brow gone now–instead his eyebrows are up by his hairline. The puzzled look on his face doesn’t help. Rain bites down a little harder before he gets a hold of himself again. 

“Sorry,” Rain mumbles, unlatching his jaw to talk. He wants to dig in again. Wants to sink his teeth in and carry Dew around in his jaw for the rest of eternity. 

“You bit me,” Dew laughs. He’s looking at Rain like he’s lost his mind–maybe he has. But the way he reaches over to tuck a dark curl behind Rain’s ear makes the water ghouls heart swell. Doesn’t matter if Dew thinks he’s insane, because Dew loves him all the same. 

Rain nuzzles against him again. “You looked cute,” he mumbles.

Dew blinks at him, that little crease in his eyebrow comes back as he works it out in his head. But he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t stop purring. If anything, he leans more of his weight onto Rain. Rain’s purr kicks up in return. 

Dew sighs. “Just…not so hard next time.” 

Rain huffs out a little laugh, “no promises.”

#Comet writes #mushy may 2024 #Raindrop #Rain ghoul #Dewdrop ghoul #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fic #the band ghost fanfic

[gravehags]

your sin, your preacher

Pairing: Papa Emeritus II x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: jealousy, possessiveness, rough sex, tender love confessions

Words: 1,618

Summary: You really should be used to this kind of thing by now but watching him with others never fails to make your blood burn.

a/n: AHA REMEMBER ME have a horny secondo fic based on a dream i had several weeks ago that i can no longer remember any of the pertinent details to. anyway cheers i did not intend for this to get so sweet at the end but i can't help myself. tender bitch disease status: terminal.

divider by @ghuleh-recs

It wasn’t like it was the first time you’ve felt that pang of jealousy when the two of you were out but Sathanas did it sting.

The two of you are currently in Secondo’s bedroom both silently undressing after a Ministry event at a favored local club. All the upper clergy were present that night with only a handful of siblings - you being one of them. But you know you’re no ordinary sibling. Everyone knows you’re no ordinary sibling. Papa Secondo’s favorite. Papa Secondo’s mistress. Papa Secondo’s faithful little lap bitch. You’ve heard it all at this point and none of it really bothered you. What did however, despite internally chastising yourself every time it happened, was your reaction when you’d see others hanging all over your lover. And oh, did they hang. Painted lips close to his ear, promising him a night he’ll never forget as hands slide along his inner thigh. You had been speaking to Cardinal Copia that evening, the two of you complaining about your dislike of the music and the volume at which it was being blasted, when you saw a woman in a short dress, hanging on his side, her hand dangerously low on his belly. Secondo didn’t acknowledge her - instead electing to continue his conversation with Papa Terzo - but his disinterest didn’t stop her from continuing the path of her red-clawed hand. When she cupped your lover’s clothed cock, bile rose in your throat until the observant Cardinal took it upon himself to step in front of you and break your line of sight. You should be used to it by now, you chastised yourself, it’s part of the job. All part of the game he has to play. 

Yeah well it didn’t mean you had to like it.

Having stripped yourself of your clothing and jewelry, you silently grab your nightgown - a short black silk sleep chemise gifted to you by the man watching you carefully from across the room - and head towards the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind you. As you diligently remove your makeup you wonder if he could sense your irritation, feel the ugly green jealousy seeping off of you through the wall that divided the two of you. You wouldn’t be surprised, he’s always been startlingly good at seeing what you try your best to hide. Face washed, teeth brushed, you slip your nightgown over your head and loosen your hair with a sigh. With your hands on either side of the sink supporting you, you look up at your reflection. 

He chose you.

You smile at yourself and push yourself off the porcelain and put your hands on your hips.

But it doesn’t hurt to remind him.

Turning around you shut the bathroom light off and open the door. He’s already in bed, mismatched eyes watching you like a hawk as you pad across the rug and fling back the luxurious sheets to climb in beside him. You don’t have to say anything as you lie on your back with your eyes shut and simply wait. He’s predictable like that. And before long, you feel a long, elegant hand slide across your belly and up to your breast. You pretend not to notice him even as dextrous fingers circle your nipple. When he pinches insistently, hard, at the bud you finally let your eyes fly open and as soon as you do, he’s upon you. He doesn’t kiss you but instead drags his crooked nose along your neck and inhales deep.

“Amore…” he breathes and you can smell the expensive whiskey he drinks on his breath mixed with the mint of his toothpaste. “You looked delicious tonight.”

“Did I?” you ask, attempting to sound disinterested even as heat and slick pools between your thighs. “Kind of you to notice.”

That makes him pause and you seize the opportunity to flip him onto his back and straddle his hips. He’s half hard between the two of you and you know he can feel your wetness as you pin his forearms above his head. There’s a fire in his eyes now and you grind down on him with a sigh.

“Diavoletta mia,” he growls, “you play a dangerous game.”

“Oh?” you idly lift your hips and grab his cock to tease the head at your soaked entrance. Your hands are no longer holding him down but he obediently stays in place, electing instead to watch you sink down on him with a groan.

“Fuck,” you breathe, eyes rolling back at the way he stretches you. Frantically your hands search for the hem of your nightgown and in a smooth motion you lift it over your head and fling it aside. When his eyes meet the sway of your breasts you can’t help but smile with pride. You’ve never seen him look at anyone else with that gaze. Slowly, your hips begin to undulate as you slide off of him then take him back in. When his hands twitch you have to laugh - you know all he wants is to place them on either side of your hips and guide you.

“Ah, ah–ah!” The chastisement loses its bite when on the last syllable, his hips thrust upwards to fuck into you. He’s smirking at you now and with your brows furrowed, you take your hand and wrap it around his throat.

“So dominant, agnellino mio,” he taunts, “tell me does it lessen the sting of seeing that woman with her hand on my cock tonight?”

Your jaw drops and your face flushes in anger as you squeeze on either side of his throat. Bastard. Ruthlessly you begin to ride him, watching even as his iron control slips with each clench of your cunt. 

“You’re–lucky–” you pant, flinging your hair back, “almost went home with someone else tonight. That–Cardinal Copia–is such a sweet man. I’m sure he would treat me right. Might–might even be able to fill me better than this too.”

You knew you’d gone too far even as the words left your mouth. With a roar, Secondo flips you onto your back and with one large hand, effectively pins both of your wrists above your head. You’re about to throw a retort back at him when he slams inside of you with such force your head nearly grazes the headboard. All you can manage to is moan, higher and higher, as he pounds into you at a bruising rate.

“Never–forget–amore,” he snarls in between thrusts, “you are mine. You are mine and I am yours, capisci? This body–ah–this body is yours. This–ugh–soul is yours. This bed is ours and this cock is yours.”

Your lips form the words but no sound manages to come out - how could it at the rate he fucks the breath from your lungs? - so you nod frantically, tears sliding down your temples. The pleasure is bordering on pain but you don’t even care, how could you when you feel so deliciously used? When your spine begins to tighten and you feel your body bend off the mattress, you come with an exaltant scream of his name, cunt spasming around the thick length of him. If he was wild before, feeling and hearing your pleasure makes him positively feral, grunting and swearing profusely. When his previously precise thrusts become erratic, his hips stuttering, you know he’s close and so you end his suffering and sweetly clench around him once, twice, thrice and he comes with a hoarse shout, pumping rope after rope of seed into your cunt. When he finally relinquishes his grip on your wrists your hands immediately cup his cheeks and drag him down for a fierce kiss. He remains inside of you as his body sags and leans into your touch, momentarily breaking the kiss to pant into your mouth and nudge your nose with his.

“Amata mia, amata cara ragazza…do not ever doubt your Papa’s fidelity. I am yours, mi hai sentito? Only yours.”

With one final, uncharacteristically soft kiss he slips out of you and collapses to the side. You lament the loss of him inside you but your heart is so full to bursting tears begin sliding down your face once more.

“Secondo?”

"Sì, bellezza mia?”

“I love you.”

Those words were rare to pass between the two of you and always have been but you have never felt it more fiercely here, in this moment, as your body aches beautifully from his touch. You dare not look at him, instead choosing to stare at the coffered ceiling of the bedroom as tears continue to pour freely. There is a moment, then another, and you realize he’s staring at you so you finally turn to meet his gaze and oh, what you see there makes you gasp. Those mismatched eyes you love so dearly regard you with such raw feeling a hiccup bubbles in your chest. Gently, he reaches up and with two fingers, brushes the hair out of your eyes, followed by your tears.

“I do not know why the Unholy Father has seen to bless me in my old age but cara…you are my greatest treasure. Dolcezza mia. The words do not do how I feel justice but I will say them all the same. Ti amo.”

When you were watching siblings of sin grind on each other to the tacky thump of club music earlier that evening you had never anticipated this is how your night would end. You’ll pay for it tomorrow - you both will - your body bruised and used and his knees and back aching. No matter, you think as you curl your body into his, hand carding idly through the dark hair on his chest. Anything would be worth this.

#papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo x reader #secondo x female reader #papa emeritus ii x female reader #papa emeritus ii #secondo #secondo emeritus #papa secondo #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

[ramblingoak]

Napping in the Clouds

This is for @megachaoticstupid who wanted a nap in my Steampunk Verse between little Copia and his big brother Secondo 💙

Huge thanks to @tasty-ribz for the art and to @ghuleh-recs for my steampunk dividers!

This technically takes place after Building A Family but it can be read on its own. There are also two other fics in this universe: Capitano Copia and Clockwork Friends.

Warnings: angst pertaining to Copia's time in an orphanage and Secondo's feelings towards his family otherwise it is very soft and fluffy, sfw, 2,600 words

They were running out of clocks.

Secondo brushed the toe of his boot against some of the debris on the floor.  The delicate metal parts scraped against the polished wood and he winced briefly at the scratch left behind.  Not that it mattered, Emeritus Manor had countless rooms that hadn’t seen a soul in years.  No one would care about the condition of the floor in some dusty study.  Secondo couldn’t even remember if he’d been in this room before.  Copia however had clearly been busy exploring.

Busy doing other things too.

“He’s up to three rats now.”  Alpha’s voice preceded him as he appeared out of the shadow in the doorway.  “And some toys.”

“Aren’t the rats toys?”

“No.”  Secondo turned with a raised eyebrow at the sharp quality of the ghoul’s voice.  To his credit, Alpha lowered his head briefly in apology before looking back up with a smirk on his face.  The red eyes of the demon glowed with mischief as he answered.  “They’re not toys at all.”

Copia was singing when he finally tracked him down.

He had a strong voice for his age.  Strong and bright Italian words drifted down the hallway and Secondo felt such an intense moment of something that he had to pause before he turned the corner to confront the boy.  Music hadn’t traveled the corridors of the manor for a long time.  Not since Terzo had decided he’d rather spend his time in the sky.

Or, as was the case lately, in prison.

Secondo turned the corner to find Copia hunched over something in the middle of the hall.  Parts and tools were spread out around him as well as what he assumed were the little clockwork rats Alpha had watched him build.  He was content to stay back and listen to his song but one of the rats twitched and turned his way.  Copia instantly quieted down, his head snapping back and his eyes widening as soon as he saw Secondo.

“I’m sorry!  I’ll put it back together!”

Copia stumbled onto his feet, grabbing an armful of parts and quickly going over to the quiet clock.  The rats were right at his heels save one.  This one went right for Secondo, pausing at his boots and gazing up at him.  There was a blue glow right below its chest, bright enough to illuminate the little creature’s eyes.  It was something that had Secondo holding his breath, memories of his own childhood here springing to his mind.

Memories of what he used to be able to build.

“What’s his name?”  His little brother turned his way, a small screwdriver clamped between his teeth.  Secondo crouched down slowly, not wanting to scare the rat away.  “Your friend, does he have a name?”

“Brizio.”  Copia timidly walked his way, the other two rats never straying far.  Only one of them had the same glow as the one Secondo was studying.  “I named him after a friend.”

“Friends are important, where is this friend now?”

“I-I’m not sure?  He was at the orphanage with me and got adopted…”  He dropped to his knees and reached a finger out to gently touch the rat’s back.  “I miss him.”

Secondo stayed silent as he watched the boy fidget, his little fingers tapping along his knees.  He could see a bit of himself in the boy’s features, the eyes being the most obvious thing.  The Emeritus family having had the white eye for generations at this point.  Nihil always claimed it was a gift but most of his sons at some point had considered it a curse.  Primo had hated it enough to replace it with one of his “enhancements”.

A tiny hand on his knee pulled Secondo from his thoughts.  Copia was looking up at him, his eyes wide and his face unsure.  

“It’s ok to miss friends and loved ones.”  He bit his lip for a moment, a memory from his own life here as a child coming forward in his mind.  “I used to have a pet rabbit, she was a gift from my mother.”

“What was her name?”

“Snowbell.  Because of her fur.  All white, beautiful and soft.”  He couldn’t help but smile softly, thinking of that first day he met Snowbell.  When his mother brought her into his room in her arms.  It was one of the last times he saw his mother healthy, before everything in his life changed.  He was so lost in his memories that he missed Copia saying something.  “What was that fratellino?” 

“Fratellino?”  Secondo found himself staring into a familiar set of eyes.  They shimmered in the gas lamps in the hallway, unshed tears threatening to drop.  “Are you…you’re one of my brothers?”

“Si, I am Secondo.”  He smiled when Copia reached a small hand up and Secondo gamely shook it.  “Primo is here as well, although he is rarely seen.  He likes to spend his time in his lab.”

“Do you have a lab?”

Secondo placed a hand on the floor to brace himself and then moved to sit cross legged.  Copia stayed close, his hand never leaving Secondo’s leg, almost like he was afraid that if he let go he’d lose the older brother he just found.

“I do, although I don’t use it as much anymore.  My study is where I spend most of my time, usually reading or designing things.”  Copia cocked his head and guessing the question he was about to ask Secondo continued,  “Designing things for my airship.”

“You have an airship?!”

The sheer joy on Copia’s face was infectious and he couldn’t help but match it,  “I do!  Secular Haze is her name.  She’s the fastest ship in the skies.”  Secondo made a show of looking around to see if they were alone,  “But don’t tell your brother Terzo that, ok?”

“Is Terzo here too?”

Secondo winced and gave a slight shake of his head,  “Unfortunately Terzo has landed himself in prison.”  Copia’s eyes widened comically, but he moved his head closer when Secondo leaned in.  “Piracy.”

“Wow!”

Of course to a child that was exciting and Secondo tried not to let his face fall and ruin the mood.  But Copia didn’t know what it was like dealing with the worry of how long Terzo would be gone this time.  About what sort of damage his ship Mummy Dust had taken.  Mostly though he was worried about what the city would find in the airship.

And what that would mean for the whole family.

He cleared his throat, taking a quick look around the hallway before leaning in close to Copia once more,  “I have an idea.”

“We ride around in your airship!”

“We will fratellino, I promise you that.”  Copia beamed up at him, following Secondo and standing up as well.  “But first we should clean this up, find something to eat and then maybe have a little tour of the manor, yeah?”

“Oh, yes!  Per favore!  Alpha showed me around a little but Papa Nihil caught us and made him take me back to my room.”

“Nihil is a dickhead.”  Copia’s little gasp had Secondo chuckling and he knelt down before the boy, his hands resting on his tiny shoulders.  “I will show you all the secret passageways, all the hiding spots.  I will show you how your brothers and I avoided him when we were your age.”  He stood up again, winking when he held out a hand for Copia.  “We still use them even now.”

He squeezed Copia’s hand when the boy reached out and then led him over to the silent grandfather clock.  Without direction Copia knelt down and began to put the old thing back together, his fingers quick and precise.  The little rats whirred at his feet, Brizio even picking up small gears and bringing them over to the boy right as he needed them.  Secondo chimed in whenever Copia held up something with a questioning look, helping the boy find where the part belonged.

When Secondo saw Copia’s triumphant grin as the clock came to life and a series of chimes rang out in the hallway he knew then and there that the boy was where he belonged as well.

From that day on Copia, and his rats, were rarely away from Secondo’s side.

Alpha and a few of the other ghouls had cleared out a space in Secondo’s study for the boy.  An area where he could work on whatever he desired, where he could build whatever he wanted, and Secondo was there to watch.  To lend a hand whenever Copia needed it.  It was amazing to witness the ease in which his fratellino could create things.  Amazing to see the familiar blue glow in each creation.  It was a special kind of magic the world didn’t see much of these days.

Secondo took a sip of his drink and continued to stare into the fireplace.  His study was quiet today save the crackling of the fire.  It was strange how fast he had gotten used to Copia’s chattering, to the sounds of the boy working as well as the sounds of his rats running about.  Copia loved to sing as well and Secondo found it hard not to join in when he did.  They made him ache for a home he had barely known but one he hoped to build here for himself and Copia.

Perhaps for Primo and Terzo as well if they wanted.

His ghouls had taken Copia out to see Secular Haze, something that the boy had been begging to do ever since he found out she existed.  He had also begged Secondo to come with but he couldn’t bring himself to go.  It had been so long since he had seen her, since he had last sailed through the skies on her, that the guilt for leaving her dormant was too heavy.  

He wasn’t even sure he could sail her again.  Wasn’t even sure if she’d let him.

“Papa?”  Secondo startled at the old honorific from Alpha, a title no one had bothered to use for years.  “We’re back.  Copia is in his room, he wanted to see you but he was asleep on his feet.”

“What did he think of her?”

“He was amazed, running around to study every part of her.  Asked a million questions.”

“I’m sure he did, I’ll have to dig out her plans so he can look at those.”  

Alpha stepped into his line of sight, the tall ghoul moving close to the fire and staring right into it.  He was far too close to the fire than most could handle but each ghoul had a specific element they called their own and fire was as natural to Alpha as breathing.  There was a tenseness to the ghoul’s shoulders, like he was debating whether or not to say something.  When he finally turned around Secondo set his glass down and crossed his arms.

“Is there something else?”

“Some of those questions were about you.”  Secondo shrugged, not really surprised at that.  The boy always had lots of questions for him.  Recently he had been mostly focused on the story Secondo told him of his rabbit, Snowbell.  “About what you were like at his age.”

“Too smart for my own good and desperate for someone to notice.”  

He froze after the words left his mouth, surprised he had said something so personal.  Although it didn’t really matter, Alpha had been there when he was young and angry at everyone.  Lost in the Emeritus Manor without another Emeritus in sight.  Nihil annoyed that Secondo even existed and Primo gone all the time for whatever reason.  

“I told him you were lonely.”

Secondo couldn’t shake Alpha’s comment.

The old ghoul was right, he was lonely.  It was just an odd thing to think about considering he’d felt that way most of his life.  While Primo had eventually warmed up to him, and Terzo had moved into the manor not long after Secondo did, they never truly felt like brothers.  Each was different enough in their attitudes and abilities that it had been hard to bond. 

It didn’t help that Nihil always tried to make things a contest between the three of them.  Who could develop something better, who could build something faster, who could propel the family further?  Those were the things Nihil cared about and if one of them failed at any of those aspects, or anything else, he was quick to lose interest and ignore them.  That in turn made the brothers quick to ignore each other, something that was easy to do in such a big house.

He got up to throw a few more logs into the fire, easing back into his chair as the loud popping sounds from the wood filled the room.  It was funny how quickly he had gotten used to Copia being in here because it already felt strange not to hear him tinkering away at something.  Ever since he had visited the airship he had been spending more time in his room.  Alpha said he was fine, just busy working on something.  The ghoul wouldn’t elaborate any further and when Secondo had finally decided to go to the boy himself Copia refused to even open the door.

Perhaps Copia had already grown tired of him.  The thought hurt and Secondo quickly took a swig of his whisky, wanting to bury that idea as deep as he could before it started to hurt worse.

“Fratello?”  Copia’s little voice had Secondo coughing mid swallow, the whisky burning his throat when it went down the wrong way.  He leaned forward with his arms on his legs, trying to catch his breath.  A small hand started to pat his back, the boy’s voice frantic when Secondo continued to cough.  “Are you ok?  Should I get Alpha?  Please don–”

“I’m ok, I’m ok.”  Secondo turned and placed a hand on top of Copia’s head, lightly ruffling his light brown hair.  “You just startled me, that's all.”  

He turned and set his glass down on the nearby table before looking at Copia again.  The boy had something in his arms, an object made of gold metal with a familiar blue glow shining bright in its chest.  At first Secondo thought it was Brizio but when he looked closer he realized the ears were much longer than what he was used to.  The body shape was different too.  Secondo straightened up in his chair abruptly, his eyes widening when he realized what it looked like.

“I made you something.”

It felt good to be in the sky again.

It felt good to have his ship under his feet, his ghouls at his side and the Secular Haze racing through the clouds.  This is where he belonged, the sky had always felt more like home than the ground.  The hum of his ship resonated through his bones and he didn’t realize how much he had missed it until now.  This partnership between him and the machine he had built.

The body next to him shifted and he looked down at a familiar mop of brown hair, his fratellino fast asleep at his side.  A small fist was latched onto his shirt, machine grease tucked under his nails like always.  Nearby Secondo could hear the familiar sound of small metal feet running about, the gentle whir of Copia’s creations ever present.  

When he looked over he met the gaze of one such creation Copia had made for him.  A gift that Secondo would cherish always, just like he planned to always cherish the small boy who made it.  Snowbell’s ears clicked as they moved around, the mechanical rabbit rearing up onto its hind legs when two of Copia’s rats ran by.  It soon dropped back down onto its feet, chasing after them around Secondo’s cabin. 

He leaned back and closed his eyes, soaking in the sounds of his ship around him.  Soaking in the warmth of being with his family, both old and new, as he began to drift off to sleep.

He didn’t feel lonely anymore.   

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

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#copia fanfiction #secondo fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #steampunk copia

[midnight-moth]

Mushy May 2024

Midnight Snack - Aether/Dewdrop

Thank you to @forlorn-crows for organizing Mushy May for the second year in a row!

Divider by @ghuleh-recs

CW: hurt/comfort, it’s a little sad!

681 words below the cut (ao3 soon)

Aether’s view is suddenly smothered by fabric that scratches at the speakers of the cellphone that was once aimed at Dew’s sleepy but handsome visage.

Now the phone is flipped and he can hear muffled yawns through the sound of shifting fabric.

Aeth huffs a laugh, “We can hang up now, I know you’re tired.”

“No!” His voice is as petulant as it is worn with exhaustion.

The phone is straightened and he can see Dew’s droopy eyelids again.

When they focus on the screen again they go impossibly wide.

“No Aeth! That’s not fair!”

Aether smiles mid-slurp. “Hey, it may be midnight on that tour bus but here it’s dinner time.”

“Okay fine, but did you have to eat that? My favourite!”

Aether taps thoughtfully on the laminated cardboard of the ramen cup he’s cradling against his chest. Flaming hot, fires of hell, burn your face off flavour. All of the names Dew’s given it because he can’t yet read Korean.

He does feel a certain kinship with the raging fire-eyed chicken on the packaging. But maybe Aether had that package thrown at his head when he pointed at it and said “That’s you!”

“NOT A CHICKEN!” Dew shouts across the room from where he’s ducked behind the counter, weary of ramen cup shaped revenge.

Instead he hears the flick of the kettle being turned on, paper being peeled back, packets torn, and his mouth begins to water.

He considers emerging so he can bite right into the round cake of dried ramen noodles, as is customary. His ears prick at the sound of a very crunchy chomp and decides he has no choice.

And then…

“Firefly, you still with me?” Aeth drags out the yyyyy in a sing-song voice that makes Dew’s chest ache.

“Clearly not.” His eyes are closed now, but not with sleep. With something heavier.

“Well, if you are awake enough, go look on the top shelf of the pantry.”

Sounds hopeful, so Dew readies himself to be upright. The phone goes dark again against Dew’s palm as he swings his sore legs over the edge of the bunk and hops down.

Aether hears him pad quietly to the tiny kitchen, and then the squeaking hinge of the cupboard. And then a cascade of thuds.

In the distance he hears a shut the fuck up that sounds a lot like Cumulus.

When Dew sets the phone upright again, he is clutching several packages of flames of the volcanos of satans rage noodles to his chest.

That's thanks enough for Aether. He can see Dew struggling to process a tirade of emotions that is far too much for a sleepy ghoul at midnight.

Dew cracks open a bottle of water and peels back the lid, but before dousing the noodles he takes a big bite of the dried noodles, crumbs fly everywhere.

“Mount’s gonna get you for that. You know he hates crumbs in the upholstery.”

Dew just grunts softly in affirmation. He knows what'll happen if he opens his mouth right now. So he keeps it clamped shut, tight enough to make his teeth hurt.

He continues preparing the noodles, irrespective of the heart burn he’ll get when he lays down. Aether continues slurping and watching.

Finally Dew’s face is obscured by the steam wafting up from his midnight snack, and it’s fogging up the front camera just a little.

He opens his mouth to take a bite and what he thought would happen, happens.

“Dew…”

“Aeth, so help me fuck, DO NOT SAY A WORD. Just eat these noodles with me in peace.”

Aeth smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Okay, we’ll just eat.”

“Good.”

“You know, with that look on your face, you like like the spicy chicke…”

“FUCK OFF I’M NOT A FUCKING CHICKEN!!”

It is said with no real venom though, Dew would give anything to be called a spicy chicken. To be chased around the kitchen again while Aether makes bok-bok-bok noises at him, digging fingers into his ribs and making him laugh until he cries.

“Love you too, Dew.”

#I’m sorry for everyone’s feelings #Aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #mushy may 2024 #moth’s mushy may 2024 #nameless ghouls #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost #cw hurt/comfort #midnight moth writes #please consider reblogging #Aether x Dewdrop #Dewther

[revengeghoulette]

Matcha Latte w/ Rose

Part 1: The Meet Cute, Barista Swiss x Professor Mountain

Part 2 3

Playlist: The Rosy Crown

I’ve had this idea written down since February, because a friend made me a matcha latte with oat milk and a splash of rose and I was like yup this is definitely Them. I also definitely did not describe my dream of owning a book & coffee shop.  No mentions of matcha this part, but definitely next part. Divider by @ghuleh-recs

@divine-misfortune bc i really enjoyed your tags :) @obsidianghoul, @gottagho-st @foxybouquet @rainsbasspick @hypnoneghoul bc Swissalps

Slightly edited, might go back in and edit some more

Swiss works at a quiet little bookstore and coffee shop owned by an elderly couple. They’ve been training him to take over the business since they're too old to be doing this sort of thing, and want to leave it to a local who will take care of their business. He’s always wanted to be a businessman and run a little local shop. A safe space for all the so-called weirdos in the community, especially the college kids trying to figure out who they are. Fresh baked goodies round the clock, fresh coffee, a bookstore with an upstairs quiet area for studying with sleeping pods in case anyone needs a place for the night, or just needs a nap. 

Once he officially became the owner, he changed its name to Rosy Crown Bookshop and Cafe. He hired a few teens, a handful of part-time college kids, and his friends Mist and Sunny, who help run the bookshop side of things and do other management stuff. 

Swiss enjoys working as a barista and running the cafe. He enjoys seeing all the new faces at the start of the semester, but mostly, he enjoys the fact that his coffee shop is the go-to study place. He also hosts study sessions, trivia nights, and other little destressors for students. During midterms and finals, the cafe would be open 24/7 for those procrastinators and extreme studiers. Mist, Sunny and Swiss don’t mind staying open for them and working long hours. 

The start of a new semester was around the corner. New faces were slowly starting to roll in, exploring the bookshop, trying the seasonal drinks, and a few asking for employment. Many nervous freshmen calm down after chatting with Swiss, knowing they have a safe space to come to for studying.

Swiss was finishing opening the coffee shop when he walked in. He’s tall, slender, wears glasses, tousled reddish brown hair that matches the autumnal leaves outside. Swiss was taken aback by this beautiful man… wait no. Ghoul? There’s a certain scent to him. He was too distracted to notice that he was ringing the bell for assistance. Snapping out of it, Swiss walks behind the counter to take his order. 

“Hi, welco-” Swiss starts, but never finished.

The man looks up the menu, only to say “12 oz drip coffee.” 

Swiss is shocked at the man’s abruptness, “oh sure, name?” 

“Mmmm…ark. Mark,” the hottie answers with some hesitation. 

Swiss smiles because it reminds him of those customers that like to make up names for their orders like Obi Wan or Rapunzel, “Mark?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, ca-can we rush this? I’m late for my first day,” the ghoul man stammers out

“You got it!” 

Swiss turns around to fill a cup with drip coffee. Before handing the cup over, he scribbled out a little message on the sleeve, “Good luck” 

“Here you go, on the house,” Swiss slides the coffee across the counter. 

“No, I have to pay,” he insists, fishing for his wallet in his messenger bag. 

“Mark, I’m serious. It’s on the house. Now go before you're even more late,” Swiss shoos him away playfully. 

The day goes on smoothly, but Swiss couldn’t get Mark’s smile out of his mind. 

“Whatcha doin’ there Swissypoo,” Mist pokes Swiss while he’s staring off into the distance as she wraps her apron around her waist. 

“Huh? Oh, nothing,” Swiss tries to play it off. Mist chuckles because she doesn’t believe him, but won’t push it. 

The entrance bells ring announcing the arrival of a customer.  Swiss stands up a little taller, and dusts off his apron. Mist looks between the customer and Swiss. There’s something there, so she hangs back, refilling the caramel sauce squeeze bottle, watching them interact. 

“Hi, welcome back,” Swiss smiles at the man. 

The man in front of him looks almost embarrassed, apologetic, “Hi, I’m- uh, sorry about um earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand,” he brushes him off. 

“I’ve felt bad all day so I thought I’d come and buy a little celebratory pastry,” the stranger flashes him a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little bit. 

“How did today go?”

“It was actually pretty good, thank you. Can I get a slice of the carrot cake please. Can you make it to go?” 

“Absolutely,” Swiss grabs the slice and places it on a box, scribbling ‘For surviving the day’ on the lid before handing to him, “Here you are.”

“Thank you! I’m Mark, by the way. I know I told you earlier, but I wanted to properly introduce myself.”

“Nice to meet you, Mark. My friends call me Swiss.” Swiss extends his hand for a hand shake and Mark meets his hand, static shocking both of them. 

Mist was right, there was something there. She was definitely going to question Swiss once this guy leaves. 

“What the fuck was that?” Mist pushes Swiss to the back of the house, slapping his arm. 

Laughing, Swiss pushes Mist away by pushing her forehead, “What do you mean?”

“Dude, sparks were literally flying. C’mon spill.” 

“Nope! My shift is over, BYE!”

With that, Swiss takes off his apron, and leaves the shop. Mist is flabbergasted by what just happened. 

Mark came in every morning that week to get coffee before jetting off to work. Everyday Swiss would write a little something on the sleeve of the coffee cup, or on the napkin with his pastry. Mark has never mentioned them, but Swiss is hopeful he saw them. 

It’s Saturday, and he’s not expecting to see Mark, but it’s a nice surprise to see him walk in and take a seat at one of the corner tables. After setting his bag down, he walks up to the counter. 

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Well, hello stranger. Can I get you your usual?” Swiss asks as he’s about to turn around. 

“No, actually. I was wondering if you could make me your favorite drink. I don't usually drink like those fancy coffee drinks, but my TA was giving me shit for always drinking the same thing, so I wanted to explore different caffeinated drinks, I guess, and I didn’t know where to go, so I figured since we kind of have a rapport I could ask you. Oh my goodness, I'm rambling, I'm sorry!” 

Swiss smiles kindly at him, chuckles a bit. “TA? Are you a teacher?” 

“I’m a professor at the local university,” Mark explains. 

“Emeritus Tech? I graduated from there! But yes, why don’t you go sit down, and I'll make you something” 

Mark takes a seat and pulls out his laptop and a book. Swiss returns with a latte. 

“This here is a vanilla latte. Everyone says ‘it's basic,’ but it’s a good beginner coffee drink if you’re just starting to explore the coffee world. You can change the flavoring and the type of milks used. It’s vanilla flavoring, a shot of espresso, and milk with some foam on top,” Mountain lifts an eyebrow at the design on top, “It’s a swan,” Swiss answers his unspoken question, flashing him a smile, “I used oat milk because I find that it gives it a creamier, slightly thicker consistency. Enjoy. I’ll make my rounds.” 

Swiss leaves Mark to his own devices, but he watches him from behind the bar. Mark takes a cautious sip from the mug, closing his eyes and savoring the taste. He didn’t know coffee could taste so good. He just stuck to drip, because he was too scared to order or make different drinks. 

As the afternoon crowd slowly started to leave, Swiss began cleaning around, organizing shelves and restocking books and coffee supplies. Mark’s eyes would often wander to Swiss. He’d catch him dancing, humming to himself, reading the summaries of books before shelving them. Mark was entranced by Swiss’ silly little shenanigans.  

Mark stayed late to finish his lesson plans. Swiss occasionally brings him water, or a sweet treat against Mark’s wishes, but he still eats them. Mark wraps up his plans, grabs his things and leaves, waving goodbye to Swiss. 

Swiss switches off the open sign after staying open an extra hour just for him. He grabs a rag and a bin to clean off the table Mark was sitting at when he finds something scribbled out on a napkin. 

“Thank you for all the notes on my coffee and pastries. Call me -M” with his number written below. 

A giant smile forms on his face, he looks at the note again because he doesn’t believe it real. He’s so happy and excited that his tail unglamours and wags with happiness. 

From across the street, Mark watches as Swiss’ tail wags, admiring the dimples on his face. He’s so beautiful, Mark thinks. 

Swiss finishes closing duties and gives Mark a call after locking the door, to keep him company while he walks home. 

“Hello?” a groggy voice answers 

“It’s Swiss, sorry is this too late? I can call at a different time.” Swiss starts to panic, scared he woke him up. 

“No, no. It’s okay. I was just dozing off on the couch. I- I, thanks for calling, I-” Mark breaks out into a quiet giggle, “Oh this is dumb, but I wanted to hear your voice,” Swiss blushes hearing Mark say that, “Oh, also, you have a cute tail.”

“Wait. You saw that?!” Swiss is shocked. He thought he was alone, or at least, didn't think anyone would be paying attention to him. 

“Sure did, and my name's Mountain, not Mark, and I also have a tail.”

Swiss is relieved by the confirmation that he’s also a ghoul. 

“Mountain… I like it. It suits you.”

They talk as Swiss makes his way home, and late into the night, way beyond their bedtimes, and fall asleep on the call. 

After that phone call, Mountain went to the coffee shop every day before and after work. He’d sit in his usual spot and do some grading, or read a book while waiting for Swiss to get off work. 

Mountain’s become a regular, and the employees start to recognize him and his order, as well as some of his students. The coffee shop has become a secondary office where students stop by just to ask him clarifying questions, or sometimes they’ll set up a meeting to discuss larger topics. 

He’s met Sunny and Mist during the shift overlap, and they sometimes sit with him to keep him company when work is slow. They all know they’re ghouls living amongst humans. 

Sunny loves to discuss books. Keeps him updated on the latest book releases and also customer drama. Mountain is a big time consumer of customer drama. In return, he gossips about his students.

They’ve also discussed hosting some sort of reading or book program in collaboration with the bookshop. Talks about hosting Q&A’s with a variety of subjects have come up. 

On a quiet Friday night, when Swiss’ shift ends, Mountain walks him to his apartment as per the routine now. Once at the entrance, Swiss turns to him and meets his eyes. 

“I want to ask you something,” Swiss starts. Mountain waits for him to continue

“Would you, maybe, want to go out with me?” 

Mount eagerly smiles and nods, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask, and if you didn’t do it this weekend, I was going to ask. Yes, Swiss, I’d love to go out with you.” 

“Would you wanna come in? Stay the night perhaps? We can watch a movie, and have some frozen pizza? Neither of us have work tomorrow, and we can sleep in?”

“I-” Mountain starts, but is met with Swiss’ puppy eyes, “I can stay, yes.”

Swiss sighs in relief, grabbing hold of Mountain's hand, guiding him inside the building while rambling on about tonight's plans. Mountain laughs, squeezing Swiss hand a little tighter, sending a little thank you to whatever god made this happen.

Part 2: The Date... coming soon.

#swissalps #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #coffee shop au #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfic #ghost band #nameless ghouls #mist ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #revenge works #matcha latte w rose fic

[ghoul-slime]

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.

#mushy may 2024 #dewther #aether/dew #aether x dew #aether/dewdrop #aether x dewdrop #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #ghost band fanfic #ghoul-slime fic #ghoul-slime mushy may 2024

[sisterprocrastinator]

MUSHY MAY 2024

Prompts from the awesome @forlorn-crows

I'm really late to the party for day 13 (see my name for reasons 🤷‍♀️), but I've repurposed a oneshot I wrote for the 'Just Wanted to Hear Your Voice' prompt.

Dew and Aether

Phone sex

NSFW 18+

Around 2k words

Dew is away on business helping Terzo and has been teasing his mate Aether with selfies all day.

Thanks again for the divider @ghuleh-recs

Read below or on A03 and check out my other Mushy May chapters on AO3 here

Reblogs are very much appreciated, please and thank you 🖤

Aether's phone vibrated in the pocket of his uniform jacket and he studiously ignored it. He knew who it would be.

Swiss glanced over at him and smirked. The two of them were out in the city on business with Papa who was currently in an important meeting. Aether and Swiss were acting as his bodyguard bookends.

Throughout the day, Dew had been sending Aether pictures. They’d started off innocently enough. Dew and Mountain were accompanying Terzo on a trip to conduct some Clergy business in Greenland. The messages had kicked off with scenic selfies or interesting things that they’d seen on their travels. As the day had gone on though, the selfies had become a little bit more... intimate.

Swiss had figured out something was up and he’d been studying Aether's reactions every time the phone vibrated. He could tell that the multi ghoul was itching to say something about it. Papa was too engrossed in his meeting to notice, thankfully.

It was almost dinnertime and the meeting finally began to wrap up. Aether was glad they would be heading home soon because his head was starting to throb with the energy he’d used being in the human world. Humans in larger numbers were extremely draining to his quintessential self.

They got settled in the car and Swiss began the drive back to the Abbey. Aether was in the back with Papa.

“Are you going to check your messages, Aether?” Swiss said with a shit eating grin. Aether glanced up and met his eyes in the rear-view mirror. He scowled and just about managed to stop the growl that rose up. “It might be something important,” the multi ghoul said with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“It can wait,” Aether snarled.

He felt Papa’s eyes on him.

“He is right. It could be important,” Papa said, oblivious to the situation.

"It's fine, Papa," he said, feeling his annoyance rising.

Aether sank down into his seat, muttering under his breath. He turned towards the window and tried to think of something other than the bathroom mirror selfie that Dew had sent him just after lunch. He’d had his shirt pulled up, holding it between his fangs to show off his lean stomach. The hand not holding his phone had been inside his pants. The caption had read:

Prepping for later...

Viewing that picture was the moment that Aether had realised he was going to have to ignore his mate’s messages for the rest of his shift because he would have been next to useless to Papa otherwise.

He and Dew had scheduled a video call for later once Terzo and the ghouls had settled at the small abbey they were staying at.

Aether went through the motions once he was dismissed for the evening, getting changed out of his uniform and into a pair of loose blue pyjama pants. It was warm in the lair so he left his shirt off. He ate dinner with the others and then they went their separate ways.

He settled down on his bed, leaning on the pillows propped up against the wooden headboard, legs stretched out and ankles crossed.

Aether grabbed his phone and finally opened the messenger app, smirking as he scrolled through the chat. The further down he went, the more risqué the pictures became. There were a couple from the bathroom of the plane, teasing shots of bare flesh. A few more from the room he’d been allocated, the room that for some reason seemed to have an abundance of mirrors which Dew had taken full advantage of.

Another message flashed up on the screen, swiftly followed by a short video and Aether barked out a laugh.

Been too busy to play today? Pity. I see you watching me. Have had to take matters into my own hands...

The video panned over a series of polaroids that had been laid out on top of the covers of the bed in Dew's temporary room. All of them were of Aether and every single one of them was absolutely obscene.

Aether fired off his own message.

Some late night art? A little too crude for my tastes, but the subject is pretty.

The green camera icon lit up and Aether answered the call. He grinned when Dew’s face appeared, a mock frown creasing his brow.

“Well I didn’t know you were so highbrow, Aeth. I would have chosen something more classy for my travel wank bank if I’d realised. I thought you were into smut. And keep your hands off that pretty ghoul. He is mine,” he growled. "Actually, second thoughts, maybe you should use your hands on him."

Aether laughed and Dew grinned back at him.

“It’s nice to see your face, Dew. I was getting a little bored of looking at your abs.”

Dew snorted and he shifted position.

“You missed me really. How was your day?”

The screen pixelated and then froze. Aether thought the call would drop but it came back to life again.

“Bad signal?” Aether asked. Dew rolled his eyes and nodded. “It would have been okay if I hadn’t been distracted all day. But I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Poor baby,” Dew said, mischief sparking in his eyes. “Did my holiday snaps make you lose your concentration?”

Aether sighed.

“Maybe.”

Dew frowned when he heard the weariness in Aether’s voice.

“What time is it there?” he asked.

“Just after nine.”

“It’s after midnight here. The others are asleep.”

The screen froze again and the call finally dropped. Aether cursed but almost immediately got an incoming call from a foreign number. He answered.

“Relying on the old fashioned technology, huh?”

Dew laughed down the line, husky and quiet.

“Apparently so.” He sighed and Aether heard him shifting position. He must have been sitting on his bed too. “Anyway, what are you wearing?”

Aether snorted.

“Not much.”

“Send me a pic.”

“More fuel for your wank bank?” he said dryly.

“Humour me.” Aether stretched out his arm and took a selfie, sending it to Dew's phone. The other ghoul chuckled after a moment when it finally came through. "Ugh the internet is so slow here. Oh, I like those pants. Do you know what would make them better though?”

Aether heard the sounds of fabric rustling and Dew hissed. He smirked, knowing exactly what Dew was doing and the semi that he’d had since he’d opened up their chat turned to a raging hard on when he pictured it.

“No, Dew, what would make them better?”

“If you came in them like a horny little teenager.”

“And how exactly am I going to accomplish that, Dew?” Aether said, voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m sure I can guide you through it. Maybe if you do exactly as I say, the next picture I get will be messier.”

Aether huffed a breath and Dew took in a shaky one.

“What are you doing, Dewdrop? It sounds like you’re struggling a bit with something there.”

“That would be telling,” he said. “Put the phone on speaker.” Aether did as he was told and put it down on the bedside table. “Now, those hands? Put them to good use. I want you to trail them over your skin. One of them is going to touch your body the way I touch it. You’re going to imagine that’s my hand and my claws raking along your torso. You’re going to be gentle and you’re going to be slow.”

Aether put his right hand on his neck, tilting his head to the side and stroking the skin reverently, fingers trailing along his jaw and down the column of his throat.

“What about my other hand, Dew?” he asked hoarsely.

Dewdrop chuckled down the phone.

“I want that other hand inside those pants and wrapped around that fat cock of yours.”

“So demanding,” Aether said as he trailed his left hand down over his pectoral.

He skimmed over his abs and his hip, sliding his fingers under the waistband of the loose pyjama pants.

He closed his eyes and sighed when his hand closed around his cock. It was throbbing in time to his heart by now and he gripped it, giving it a long, lazy stroke.

“Tell me what it feels like,” Dew said.

Aether concentrated on the feel of his calloused palm against his velvety flesh. He groaned as he twisted his fist around the head and then moved it back down again to the base a few times.

“So fucking good,” he breathed out.

“Where’s that other hand?” Dew said shortly.

Aether was circling his nipple with his claws right then and he moved his hand to stroke along the skin of his stomach.

“On my stomach, stroking. Feels nice.”

Dew hummed his approval, breath coming out heavier now, pants and groans coming through the phone.

“I can’t wait too much longer. You need to hurry up. Grip yourself tighter. Imagine it’s me, imagine my fangs on your skin as I’m stroking you.” Aether took a shuddering breath and it hitched as he pictured Dew doing just that. He bit his bottom lip and a little snarl escaped him. “Oh yeah, like that. Make yourself feel good, so fucking good.” Dew gasped and made the whining sound that he often did when he was about to lose it. Aether could feel himself getting closer to the edge by now too, sweat had broken out on his skin and his heels dug into the covers below him. He groaned again. “Put that other hand to better use.” Dew’s voice was strained now, barely above a whisper. “Use it on your balls. Squeeze them, do it the way I do.”

Aether did as Dew said and reached inside the pants, left hand working himself faster. He was almost there, but when he grabbed his balls with his right hand and squeezed, hard, the effect was instant. It tipped him right over. He gritted his teeth in a snarl and arched his back, ropes of cum pulsing out of him as he worked himself through it.

Through the pounding of blood in his ears he heard Dewdrop snarl as he finished himself off also. He heard his name on the other ghoul’s lips and he huffed out a breath as he came back down to earth.

“Fuck,” he gasped, chuckling when he glanced down at himself and saw the wet patch at the front of the flannel.

He really did feel like a horny teenager.

Aether shifted back onto his elbows, tipping his head back and looking up at the ceiling.

“I need that picture now,” Dew's voice cut through his post orgasmic haze.

He sounded wrecked.

Aether grabbed his phone and took another selfie, the same position as the one before.

He hit send and sighed.

“Happy?”

It took a moment but Dew groaned.

“Look at that. Dirty boy. I love it.”

Dew cursed under his breath and the sound of a door opening drifted out of the phone.

“Fucking hell, Dew, can you keep it down?” Mountain's gruff, sleep addled voice cut through. “Oh my fucking Satan! What the fuck, Dew? I need to bleach my fucking eyeballs!”

Dewdrop was cackling and Aether could only imagine the scene that Mountain had just walked into. Dew, naked on his bed, cock probably still in his hand and surrounded by his private collection of pictures of Aether. He snorted a laugh and heard the door slamming.

“Maybe you should fucking knock first, Mountain!” Dew yelled after him. He sighed heavily and Aether yawned. “I should let you rest. I could hear how tired you were just before. Has Papa given you the day off tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m going to sleep in. I think I feel the need to take some arty photographs during the day though,” he said with a grin.

Dewdrop laughed and the sound gave Aether peace.

“Well, I look forward to seeing your creative side. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow so I’ll be sure to sneak a peek when I can.”

“Good night, Dewdrop,” Aether said sleepily.

“Night, sweet. Love you,” Dew said. “Oh, by the way, leave those pants on to sleep in. I want you reminded of me as soon as you wake up. Make sure you mess them up again in the morning.”

Aether chuckled.

“You’re such a filthy little shit, Dew.”

“I know," he said unashamedly. "You love it.”

He hung up and Aether grinned. He couldn’t wait until Dew was back. He had some things in mind to repay the favour already.

If you enjoyed this, check out my AO3 page for more Ghost works.

This fic is a rework of a oneshot featuring my original character ghouls Quinn and Air.

For more of their smut, here is my Quair Oneshots fic where this one originally appeared 🖤

#mushy may 2024 #mushy may #smut #dewther #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #the band ghost #ao3 #ao3 writer #nameless ghouls #ao3 fanfic #ghost fanfiction #sister procrastinator #18+ content

[forlorn-crows]

𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒚 20: 𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈

pairing(s): mountain/sunshine words: 597

Sunshine pushes the seeds into their little cups of dirt, wriggling happily where she’s sat on top of the workbench. Mountain’s favorite playlist to work to plays over the little speaker in the corner of the greenhouse, and she jabs her finger into the soil in time to the music. A cool breeze seeps in from the open doors, fresh and floral spring air intermittently cutting through the humidity as they work together to prep herbs and pepper plants. It’s easy; no place she’d rather be. Sunshine croons along with the rich tenor voice of the song, tail thumping against the leg of the table. 

The song fades out and another one begins, the bass plucking out a simple two note rhythm. Mountain perks up from his soil mixing station, looking over to Sunny with a goofy grin on his face. She knows the song, and his routine to it, but it doesn’t make her any less giddy. He sways his hips when the guitar comes in, walking over to her as he snaps his fingers perfectly on beat, miming the drum opening and crooning (slightly off key but still on beat):

I’ve got sunshi-i-ine . . . on a cloudy da-a-ay. He holds his hands out to her. When it’s cold outsi-i-ide, I-I’ve got the month of May. His hands are gritty as she takes them, hopping off the bench and smiling big. 

I. Guess. You’d. Say. He leans in, pressing their noses together. What. Can. Make. Me feel this wa-a-y? He grabs her by the waist, pulling out a giggle as he pulls her into the middle of the room, right into a patch of dappled afternoon sun.

My gi-i-irl . . . talkin’ ‘bo-out my gi-i-irl.

My girl! Sunny jumps in. I’ve got soooo much ho-oney, the bees envy me. She mimes the trumpets in the background with fingers in front of her mouth.

I’ve got a sweeter so-o-ong, Mountain continues, than the birds in the tre-ees. 

We-e-ell. I. Guess. You’d. Say. He lifts her up by her bum, bouncing her to the words as he sings them into her jawline. What. Can. Make. Me feel this wa-a-y? 

Sunshine giggles ferociously and kicks her feet. His scruffy beard tickles her neck and she squeals: “Mount!” 

My gi-i-irl . . . talkin’ bout my gi-i-irl. The earth ghoul spins her around and peppers her in kisses—big, noisy ones that tickle her skin even more. His voice cracks as he tries to hit the high notes on the ooh’s, to which Sunny shakes her head at him, presses their foreheads together, and teasingly sings the correct notes against his lips. He chuckles and pecks at her lips. The instrumental bridge slows them down, and Mountain places her back down onto the ground. But he doesn’t let her go, taking her hands instead and pushing and pulling them in alternating directions with a silly flair. 

“How’re you so perfect, my sweet, sunshine-y girl?” he asks her.

Sunny rolls her eyes and smiles. “Do you like me or something?” she jests. 

“Maybe just a little.” He lifts one of her hands and kisses her knuckles. A little olive blush graces his cheeks, and it’s the cutest thing she’s ever seen. 

Sunshine tugs her hand back when he doesn’t stop kissing it, yanking him back to their task. “Come on, loverboy, we’ve got seeds to plant, yeah?”

“Do you want to switch for a bit? I know that,” he gestures to her stack of seedling trays, “gets tedious after a while.”

“You just want to stare at my ass bending over the soil bags.” 

Mountain just shrugs. “Guilty.”

𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✿ divider by the wonderful @ghuleh-recs

#mushy may 2024 #the band ghost fanfic #sunshine ghoul #mountain ghoul #the band ghost #mountain/sunshine #sunshine/mountain #mountain x sunshine #sunshine x mountain #ficlet #mushy may

[wrathofrats]

Mushy may day 3- massage- pebble and ivy

As always, thank you to @forlorn-crows for the prompts!

Ivy gives pebble a massage

(No warning apply but know it’s slightly horny, and there’s sex jokes in it so. But otherwise it’s cute and fluffy as mushy may should be)

The rich smell of dirt wafted off of pebble as he walked past Ivy in the common room. Omega would have a fit if he saw pebble flop down onto the couch with dirt from the greenhouse still speckled on his clothing, but with the way pebbles back and legs ached, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Remind me to dump the recycling bin in earths room again” pebble winced as he attempted to relax his sore muscles into the back of the couch. “Hopefully picking everything up will make his back hurt as much as mine”

“Pulling weeds im assuming?” Ivy asked, leaning over to rest his head on pebbles shoulder.

“Earth apparently found out I fucked alpha in the chapel again, and for some reason that’s considered ‘blasphemous’ and ‘frowned upon’”

Ivy snorted at pebbles annoyance. It was almost a routine at this point, pebble would do something stupid and earth would send him to pull weeds until it was decided he had learned some kind of lesson. Which, in pebbles defense, whoever was the one watching him was awful at determining when he had learned a lesson considering he was doing this almost weekly at this point.

“Does this mean you’ll stop fucking alpha in the chapel?”

“Yeah I’ll start fucking you in there instead” pebble grinned, chuckling as Ivy tried to hide his blush in his shirt. He could vaguely hear him complain about also not wanting to pull weeds, muffled and whiny.

“Can’t do much though until my back stops hurting”

Ivy perked up a bit, turning his head back to the side on pebbles shoulder. He remembered hearing air offer to give earth a massage when he was feeling sore, though judging from the sounds that came from their room that night he wasn’t completely sure they were telling the truth.

It was an option though. He had some eucalyptus and mint salves that earth had taught him to make. He uses them on his hands after a long day of playing, keeping one in his band bag during long sessions.

“I could give you a massage if you want, see if it helps any of the soreness” Ivy offered, reaching down to play with pebbles fingers.

“Yeah? Is that all you’re going to do to me honeysuckle?”

Pebble can’t help but to cackle as Ivy swats at his arm, righting himself to push up from the couch. He rolls his eyes, offering his hand out to also pull pebble to stand with him, intending to bring this back to his room.

He gratefully takes the hand and groans standing up. It’s dramatic, as pebble always tends to be. Ivy tries to stifle his laugh to not encourage his antics, but he wouldn’t want him any other way.

“How do you want me sweetheart” pebble teases, sitting on the side of the bed and grinning widely.

“You have to stop hanging out with alpha” ivy pushes back on pebbles chest to force him to lay down, reaching to grab the aforementioned balm from pebbles nightstand. It really should be his at this point, considering how most of the items are ivys anyways. “Roll over onto your stomach, take your shirt off”

“Never compare me to that freak again” pebble grumbled, dramatically sighing as he rolls over and shucks his shirt off to throw onto the floor.

Ivy climbs onto the bed haphazardly, throwing his leg over pebbles hip to sit in the small of his back. He takes a dollop into his hands, rubbing it around in his palms to warm it up a bit. The smell is soothing, fresh and slightly minty, filling the room with the calming aroma.

As much as he doesn’t want to give in to pebbles god awful flirting, he has to admit to himself that he’s hard to resist like this. Miles of skin laid out in front of him, slightly shiny still from the sweat of working outside. He was beautiful, breathtaking. Even when he’s dirty and tired, Ivy can’t stop himself from staring at him with adoration.

He starts on pebbles shoulders, rubbing the essential oils into the tense muscle.

“Fuck baby, I knew you were good with your hands but Christ-“ pebble groans into the pillow. Ivy works down his sides, kneading into the soft flesh. He takes his time over the spots that seem more tight than others, making an attempt to soothe over any knots. Pebble tries not to straight up moan, cursing at how it feels to have his back finally relaxed.

“Is it working?” Ivy asks, a genuine concern in making sure pebble is doing alright, and that this has some other effect than making him turned on. Pebble nods, melting into the bed as Ivy rubs over the lower part of his back muscles.

“You’re doing amazing” pebble sighs

“Does anything else hurt?”

“I think my dick also might be sore ….”

“….. roll over”

#I love them can you tell #I adore them so much #@ghuleh-recs for the divider! #the band ghost #ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #fanfic #wrath writes #mushy may #ivy ghoul #pebble ghoul #mushy may 2024

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 19: Confessions

Aether doesn't know much about fire or water courtship rituals. Ifrit's there to knock some sense into his head.

Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the divider

this one is a doozy, I wrote this in pretty much one sitting yesterday and it's like four pages? turns out i have a lot of dewther feelings. Contains some (resolved) miscommunication, water/fire hybrid Dew, the first time I've ever written Ifrit, and some of my fire ghoul lore

Aether is, admittedly, not used to other ghouls. Quintessence packs run small, a tight-knit family group at the largest. But this is something else. Ghouls of every element, even some hybrids, all of them mostly cooperating and coexisting as a larger pack than Aether's ever known. He spends a lot of his first few months close to Omega's side, seeking comfort in his fellow quintessence ghoul.

There's one ghoul, however, who's intrigued him from the moment he was pulled from the summoning circle. Quite literally too. There had been hands on his wrists, pulling. One had been Omega, hands that felt familiar even as a stranger. But then the other wrist, fingers almost dainty, barely able to wrap all the way around.

He had looked up, and if the summoning had knocked the breath from his now-corporeal lungs, Aether found it impossible to breathe.

There was a water ghoul standing above him, silver, pin-straight hair falling over his shoulders, almost obscuring the teal gills that line his neck. He's slight, and was staring with wide, bright blue eyes down at him, a hazy lavender coloring his cheeks.

Aether had swallowed hard, tried to shut his mouth because he knew he was staring. But the water ghoul was staring too, and Aether was helped to his feet by the others. Omega had asked his name, draped a purple, starry blanket around his wide shoulders, and with one more glance at the water ghoul, had lead him from the summoning chambers.

He sees him around the pack den, standing alongside a water ghoulette and a fire ghoul who's almost as broad as Aether himself. He learns his name is Dewdrop, that Mist is teaching him bass so he can go along with the Ghost Project to support the third Emeritus brother when they leave on tour again. He watches the way Dew's fingers fly over the fretboard, the way steam curls from his gills when he's stuck on something frustrating. Dew's beautiful, and Aether feels eyes on his back when he's pretending not to stare himself.

They dance around each other for weeks, sharing glances and brushed touches between the den and the practice room, the uniform fittings and Masses.

And then things start to change. Dew actually starts approaching him, asking to practice together, rhythm guitar and bass. Aether's a little too quick to agree, anything to spend a little more time with the little ghoul he's way too infatuated with.

Aether still remembers the first time Dew cornered him after practice, grabbing his hand and unfurling his fingers, intense eye contact as he pressed something hard and smooth into his palm, closing his fingers around it before darting off after Mist. The ghoulette had glanced between the two of them, a smile that was a little too smug and knowing for Aether's taste on her lips.

He looked down into his palm, finding a pretty piece of stone, so dark it's almost black, glittering with quartz all throughout, worn down smooth by water. Aether furrowed his brow, turning the pebble over in his fingers, before taking it back to his room, setting it on a shelf above his desk.

The pebble quickly became part of a collection, various colors and shapes decorating just about every surface in his bedroom. They're all beautiful, and Aether finds himself turning them over in his hands, wondering why Dew's only giving them to him, not sharing them with the rest of the pack.

This continues, even as the Ghost Project sets out to tour. Dew keeps giving him little gifts, pressing them into his hand. The first time they get to stay overnight at a hotel, instead of cramming themselves into tiny bunks on the bus, he and Dew are assigned together. Or maybe, Dew bat his lashes at Terzo and got him to reassign keys. If he did, Dew will never tell. Regardless, they head up the elevator together, bags slung over their shoulders.

Aether slips the keycard into the lock, pushing open the door to a room with two queen beds. Altogether, not a bad hotel room, but he's nearly dead on his feet after that night's Ritual.

"May I make you a nest, Aether?" Dew asks, setting his bag down on the hotel dresser, beginning to rifle through it for a clean set of clothes.

Aether yawns, jaw popping with the force of it. "That sounds great," he says earnestly. "How about I strip my bed and we use both sets of bedding? Make it extra comfortable."

Aether just barely catches the way Dew's eyes light up like neon signs at his words, and the little ghoul nods eagerly. "Go shower, and I'll get it taken care of."

"Thank you, waterlily," Aether says, unable to stop himself from tucking a strand of silver hair behind Dew's finned ear, watching fascinated as that lavender blush spills over the ridge of his nose, the sharp lines of his cheeks.

Aether rushes through his shower, exhaustion bone-deep. He doesn't know how Omega did it for so long. His body aches to flop down into a nest, and he's honestly excited to not have to sleep alone.

He gets out of the shower, roughly toweling off and changing in his haste. Aether steps out of the bathroom, the mirror foggy with steam, and watches curiously as Dew weaves sheets and blankets and pillows together methodically. Eventually, Dew seems satisfied with his work, curling up in the pile of bedding, patting the mattress next to him.

"Come on, big guy, get in here," he demands, but his finned tail is wagging behind him, mussing up the blankets.

He chuckles, climbing into the nest next to Dew, who's quick to curl up against his side, purring like a storm. It's very comfortable, and Aether's happy to have an armful of ghoul, the two of them quickly succumbing to sleep.

The habit keeps, Dew worming his way into Aether's bunk on the bus, insisting they're roomed together for each hotel night.

Dew gets clingier after they start sharing a bed. Aether's not complaining, not by any means, but Dew's always been a little aloof, a stoic little thing. He's close physically, but Aether can feel the way his friend is beginning to drift away mentally, even as they sleep pressed together from torso to tailtip.

It takes a couple of weeks before Ifrit raises an eyebrow as he takes note of their sleeping arrangements, the way Dew's plastered to Aether's side for what feels like every waking moment, every unconscious one too.

He pulls Aether aside backstage one night, and Aether goes willingly. "What's up, big guy?" he asks.

Ifrit scratches at his undercut, his shoulder length hair tied back so he can shove it into the balaclava later tonight. "Aeth. Aether. What do you know about fire ghoul courting rituals?"

Aether's brow furrows hard, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's a little out of nowhere," he sputters. "I mean, nothing, really. I mean, are you asking?"

Ifrit throws his head back in a laugh. "No, I'm not asking for myself, if that's what you're putting down. Me and Zeph are good, not looking for a third quite yet," he chuckles, clapping Aether's shoulder before his expression turns serious, a rare occurrence for the fire ghoul. "Okay, how about this. What do you know about water ghoul courting?"

"Courting?" He can feel the blush spilling across his cheeks as a face flashes in his mind out of his control. Silver hair, teal fins, bright blue eyes. Aether swallows hard, meeting Ifrit's expectant gaze. "Nothing. I barely met any water ghouls in the Pit, wasn't really in a position to learn that part of their culture."

Ifrit nods to himself, taking a deep breath through his nose. He settles both of his hands on Aether's shoulders, leveling him with a look. "Aether, I'm gonna be blunt and I need you not to freak out on me. Dew thinks you're courting him, and he's trying to court you back."

Aether's heart stops, trying to form words but just sputtering. "I didn't- I'm not- How?"

"He's not just water. He's a fire hybrid. I don't know too much about the water courting, but I'd be willing to bet he's been giving you stones?"

Aether blinks dumbly at him. "Yeah, he has. They're all over my room in the den."

"Yep, that'll be it, I think. But the part I know more about are fire rituals. Did he offer to make you a hearth?"

"Dew's never mentioned anything about a hearth, Frit," Aether says, feeling the warmth of his palms as they hold his shoulders still. "I don't know what that is."

"It's a courting nest, Aeth," Ifrit sighs again. "Did Dew offer to make you a nest?"

He blinks up at Ifrit, realization beginning to dawn on him. "He did."

"And you offered your bedding in response, didn't you?"

"I- I did. I offered to strip the other hotel bed to make a nest with," he says, suddenly finding the skin around his glamoured nails incredibly interesting.

"Aether, listen to me," Ifrit says, tipping Aether's chin up to make him make eye contact. "You need to talk to Dew. Tonight. Clear this all up. He's upset because, to him, you reciprocated his intent and now you're giving him the cold shoulder."

Aether opens his mouth to reply, but then there's a call of a half an hour until places. They glance at each other, nowhere near ready, panic filling both of their eyes. "Talk to him," Ifrit stresses as they part, scrambling to the dressing room.

The Ritual, all things considered, goes fine. Aether knows that Dew knows he's looking at him, sees the glint of blue eyes behind the silver mask that obscures the rest of his features. He can't look away. Aether hits his marks, plays his part, but he's staring at Dew, with everything Ifrit told him swirling though his mind like his quintessence.

They step off stage, the ghouls all filing back to the dressing room, sweaty and exhausted. "Dew," Aether says, just loud enough to be heard. The water ghoul whips back, eyes shining through his mask.

"Aether?"

He takes a deep breath through his nose, trying to steel himself. It smells like metal, the mask humid with his breath even through the balaclava. "I need to talk to you. Could we find somewhere quiet?"

Dew blinks, the rest of his expression hidden, but Aether, in tune with these kinds of things, can almost smell the apprehension. "Sure. What about?"

"Just-" Aether stops himself. "Not here, come with me?" He holds out his hand, still so strange looking under human skin. Dew's chest heaves as he breathes, considering, before placing his hand in Aether's.

Aether finds an empty room, dark and quiet, herding Dew inside before shutting the door behind them. He finds the light switch, old fluorescents flickering to life. Aether reaches up, grabbing the chin of his mask and pulling it up and off of his head, shoving his balaclava down.

Dew's quick to follow, and once his face is revealed, Aether gets a good look at the almost nervous expression written there, on the most beautiful ghoul he's ever seen, even soaking wet and ruffled. Locks of silver hair stick to his forehead with sweat, and he aches to reach out to tuck them back in place. "Aether?"

His shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath, stepping heavily into Dew's space, guiding him to stumble quickly backward until his back hits the wall. Dew's expression hardens, but Aether can taste the undercurrent of fear of being cornered by a much bigger ghoul, caged in by his big arms.

"Hey, Dewdrop," he whispers, voice as gentle as he can make it. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Dew's brow furrows, staring up at him. "You didn't know wh- umph!"

He gets cut off by Aether's mouth on his, the bigger ghoul lunging down to catch Dew's lips in a desperate, hungry kiss. The smaller ghoul squawks in surprise, before melting completely into it. His arms come up and wrap around his neck, clinging to him, human nails digging into his shoulders even through the cassock.

They part, vessels aching for air, eyes wide as they stare at each other. Dew starts laughing incredulously, narrow chest heaving. "You're fucking kidding, Aether, thought you were leading me on."

Aether leans in, pressing his forehead to Dew's. "I didn't know you were trying to court me. I didn't know I had accepted a hearth."

"I mean," Dew stammers, that lilac blush flooding his cheeks again. "If you didn't actually want me to court you, you can forget it happened, I can-"

"Dewdrop," Aether whispers, taking the point of his chin carefully in his fingers, making him meet his gaze. "What about the last five minutes says I don't want this?"

He shrugs, still pinned to the wall. Instead of answering, Dew tangles his spindly fingers in his mohawk, pulling him down into another kiss. And Aether is happy to indulge him.

#this one is like. double the length of the majority of my fics for this month #damn #anyways idk how i feel about how i wrote ifrit #it's time for me to write honeymoon phase dewther lmao #and if the tenses are all fucked up you didn’t see anything #mushy may 2024 #dot's writing #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #dewther

[iamthecomet]

𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘺 𝘋𝘢𝘺 𝘛𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦: 𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦

Rating: M (nothing explicit on screen but the thoughts and intentions are there) Pairing: Aeon/Swiss Word Count: 847 Mushy May by the beloved @forlorn-crows divider by the amazing @ghuleh-recs

Swiss’ hand is warm and heavy where it rests on Aeon’s thigh. Innocuous to the crowded bar around them, but Aeon feels every twitch of Swiss’ fingers. He tries to focus on his drink–something syrupy and much sweeter than it sounded on the menu. It's hard though when all he can think about is the feeling of Swiss’ thumb sliding up and down just above the seam on the inside of his thigh. 

He's wearing jeans. But he might as well be wearing nothing for how electric this feels. 

Swiss is engaged, fully, in a conversation with Cirrus, and Aurora is saying something to Aeon that he can't quite hear over the blood rushing through his ears. 

He takes another sip of that sickly sweet drink. All the astringent bite of alcohol covered by the taste of something artificial that makes his skin crawl a little. 

He has a lot to learn about life topside. About his vessel. About what he likes and what he doesn't. Above all else he is built to chase pleasure. To drown himself in hedonism until it consumes him. He wants nothing else. He could order another drink. Find something he likes better. But that easy, temporary, pleasure is dwarfed by the way it feels when Swiss touches him. 

What had started as a small pocket of warmth in his gut when Swiss put his hand on the small of his back earlier, has grown into an inferno. 

Swiss tips his head back and laughs at something Cirrus says, and Aeon knows he's staring, but he can't help it. Can't take his eyes off of deep brown skin, And the bluntness of Swiss’ cheekbones or the way his eyes crinkle in the corners. 

Aurora nudges him. “Are you listening?” 

Aeon shakes his head. “Honestly? No. Sorry. What?” 

Aurora rolls her eyes. “I asked if your drink is good.” 

He shrugs. “It's too sweet. You'd like it.” 

He pushes it over to her, watching only long enough to see her take a sip and hum happily. 

“Want me to get you something else?”

Aeon shakes his head. “I'm fine.” 

He's already looking at Swiss again. Watching him tell a story. His free hand moving wildly as it gets more intense. The hand on Aeon's thigh squeezes. The thumb digs in just a little. Aeon gasps. 

Of all of the things he wants to try–this is the most pressing. He wants to know what that hand feels like on bare skin. Wants to feel the burn of those thick fingers inside of him. Wants to know what it feels like to be pinned beneath the solid weight of Swiss’ body. 

He wants to know what Swiss sounds like when he cums. 

He's not inexperienced. He's been topside for months. But between being new and learning all the songs and preparing for tour, there hasn't been as much time for Aeon to get as acquainted With Swiss as he'd like. The blow job in front of the altar after mass barely counts. He's sick of waiting.

He wants it all. 

Swiss looks over at him like he can hear Aeons thoughts. Eyes narrowing into mischievous slits when he catches sight of the flush on Aeon's cheeks. 

The hand squeezes again. More intentional this time. And slides higher until Swiss’ thumb is dragging over the growing bulge behind Aeon's zipper. 

“You want something, bug?” 

“I want to go back to the hotel,” Aeon says it a little louder than he intends to. Aurora laughs into her drink, eyes bright as she looks at the two of them looking at each other. She nudges Aeon’s leg with her knee playfully and he ignores it–fully engrossed in the amber of Swiss’ eyes–the barely human color he picked for his glamor. As he watches he seems them flash, a quick show of their true gold and amethyst and Aeon can feel himself get harder against his zipper. 

Swiss smiles at him, easy. It’s not his usual hungry grin and it makes Aeon’s stomach swoop. There’s softness in it that is unexpected, but very welcome. And Aeon knows Swiss will take care of him–that they will be slow and methodic and they will bathe in each other’s pleasure until they can’t keep their eyes open. 

“Lead the way,” Swiss says, and Aeon practically springs from his chair–maybe too eager but he can’t help it. His pants are tight, and when Swiss sets his hand on his lower back again–warm and solid. Guiding him toward the door, Aeon feels like he might literally swoon.  Swiss laughs at him, just a little chuckle that feels warm and good natured. Laced with excitement over Aeon’s excitement. 

Swiss kisses him softly on the temple as they slip through the bar’s front door without saying a word to the rest of their packmates. The air outside is warm and damp, and Swiss’ hand slides a little to the side to rest just above Aeon’s hip. 

He doesn’t let go until they're in the hotel room. After that–his hands have much more interesting places to be. 

#comet writes #Aeon ghoul #Swiss army Ghoul #Phantom ghoul #swisstom #aeon/swiss #swiss/aeon #nameless ghoul fanfiction #ghost fic #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfic #mushy may 2024

[gravehags]

the potential of you and me

Pairing: Phantom x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: peeping tom behavior, masturbation, soft dom reader, phantom being a little freak (affectionate), not a lot of dialogue

Words: 1,701

Summary: It's not the first time he's watched you and he hopes it won't be the last.

a/n: listen sometimes people (me) are horny and love some light perversion. i just rewatched the boy and if you know you know. dedicated to @forest-rot

divider by @ghuleh-recs

He doesn’t mean to start doing it.

It just sort of…happens.

The first time it occurs is not long after he is summoned as he is walking down the hall, passing an open doorway when he hears noises. Silently, he creeps to the edge of the doorframe and looks in one of the seminar classrooms, where he sees two sisters of sin tangled together. The moans coming out of the both of them go straight to his cock and as he watches them lick into each other’s mouths, he gently presses the heel of his palm into his groin. The way it makes him feel is…jarring, and when a loud moan of his own comes unbidden from his lips, the sisters jump apart and look in his direction. Luckily he’s quick and quietly bolts back the other way, comically cupping the bulge in his pants.

The second time happens within the ghoul den. The smell in there has always been overwhelming for him, and when his pack members are in rut? The ghoulettes sequester themselves to their collective room to take care of each other, far too dangerous to be wandering the halls and some ghouls do the same, such as Rain and Mountain. Swiss on the other hand, with his easy toothy grin, is shameless about his. One evening Phantom hears whimpers and groans coming from the communal living area and immediately his cock stirs to attention. Getting up and creeping down the hallway he pokes his head around the corner and has to bite down on a gasp. Stretched out on the length of the couch, all lithe body and limbs, is Swiss. His sleep pants are pulled down over his hips and his eyes are shut as the long fingers on his right hand are wrapped around his cock. Phantom’s mouth waters as he watches the rhythmic stroking of Swiss’ hand - the way he takes the time to rub the head and spread the pre around the length. When the other ghoul brings his hand up to his mouth and spits in his palm, Phantom’s hand flies to his own cock, now leaking against his underwear. The way Swiss’ back arches and hips flex is hypnotic and, feeling bold, Phantom takes out his dick and mimics the taller ghoul’s movements. He nearly bites through his bottom lip as he stifles his moans at the new sensations, instead letting Swiss do the moaning for the both of them. If Swiss can hear the wet rocketing of Phantom’s hand around himself in the dark, he gives no indication as lazy streams of filth pour from his lips. Phantom comes first, hips stuttering into his hand as his spend shoots across the hardwood floor. He doesn’t stop rubbing himself though, not until Swiss paints his own chest with cum and licks the remainder off his fingers. The post-orgasmic haze Phantom comes down from doesn’t last long, as he’s filled with panic and scurries back down the hall to shut himself in his room. When Dewdrop comes out of his room the next morning he steps in the sticky remains of Phantom’s cum, cussing loudly. Phantom avoids all eyes that morning, but he swears he sees Swiss wink at him at one point.

And from there he’s lost. Any and every spare chance he gets he’s looking in windows, peeping through cracked doors, anything to chase that high. Ghouls, ghoulettes, siblings, it doesn’t matter he’ll watch anyone do anything. 

But his favorite is you.

He watches you all the time. And not just in…compromising moments. He likes to hide behind the stacks in the library to observe you sitting at a table and taking notes for rituals. The way your pretty hands flip through the pages of an old book and eyes focus on the text, brows furrowed. He likes to watch you in the dining hall, laughing and talking to friends while eating. He watches you curled in bed, fast asleep on your side and breathing deep as he sits silently perched in the chair opposite your bed.

He likes when you shower best.

You always leave the door open, he likes to think you do it for him, and you let the steam build up in the small room. When you slowly begin to strip your habit off, he sighs into your empty bedroom, the sound drowned out by the flow of the water. You’re still in your underwear, checking the temperature, and he’s already half hard. He’s seen many people nude by now with his new fixation but the curve of your hips and belly (so soft, he thinks, you must be so soft) draws his eyes and inch by inch his gaze travels your body. When you finally slip out of your underwear, he can’t help the whimper that escapes him as you delicately step into the powerful stream. You’re washing your hair tonight, he knows this, and delights in the way the soaked strands cling to your shoulders and back. His eyes follow your hands as you dole out your shampoo and scrub it into your scalp, head tilted back so he can see the pretty line of your neck. You diligently complete your hair routine and reach for a small purple loofah and your body wash (rose and lemon, he would recognize the smell of you anywhere), pouring a generous amount out. It’s when you begin to move the sponge over your skin, suds forming, his mouth goes dry. The way the soap sheens on your skin, the tender, slow attention you pay to your breasts and the way the droplets slide down them has his hand palming the bulge in his pants. You’re thorough in your scrubbing, and he lets out a gasp when you reach between your legs. He panics for a moment when he realizes you’re now washing all the soap off of you - he hasn’t had enough time. But you linger under the water for a moment as he tentatively frees his cock and spits into his hand, just like Swiss taught him. When your fingers trail slowly, sensuously up the swell of your hip, across your stomach to tap along your sternum, his stomach does a backflip. He knows exactly what you’re doing tonight.

He can hear a soft hum, even over the din of the shower as you toy your nipples to hardness, biting down on your lower lip. His hand slowly slides over his cock to match your unhurried pace. You look so beautiful like this, so raw and open for him with your head tipped back, it makes him lightheaded. When you pinch at them, with surprisingly hardness, your hips buck forward and his do the same. Slowly your fingers creep back down your body to slip through the hair at the juncture of your thighs and move along your slit. He pauses for a moment, worried that the sound of his heavy breathing and equally heavy moans will be detected, but you don’t hesitate. The noise that comes out of you when you run your fingers against your clit makes him collapse against the doorframe, hand pressing against the head of him. Your touches are firm and just a little bit frantic as your body twitches and spine bends underneath your ministrations. He’s trying his best to keep his pre from dripping onto your bedroom floor, but part of him wants it to happen - to leave a piece of him with you. His concentration is blown as a long, low moan echoes in the bathroom and he gasps as he watches you sink two fingers inside your cunt.

“Fuck yes,” you groan and his cock twitches in his fist, “so good, mmm I love your hands.”

You could be talking about anyone - a sibling, a Papa, another ghoul - but he doesn’t care. In his head it’s him you’re thinking about as you fuck yourself at a steady pace and he does the same. Your moans are getting higher, louder and he knows you’re close so he thrusts into his fist at a faster rate. He can see the slick on your fingers, can smell you, and it makes him grunt and growl. 

“C’mon baby,” he hisses, “please, please, please. I need it.”

When you come around your fingers, crying out, and your body bows to the pressure of your orgasm, his hips jolt forward and just like that second night watching Swiss, he cums in ropes along your floor. He should be filled with panic as his hips continue flexing into his fist, wanting more, but he has barely realized you’ve turned the shower off and stepped out. When the door opens and you see him doubled over on himself, softening cock in hand you…laugh?

“Made a mess of my floor, huh?” you purr, adjusting the towel wrapped around you. He’s speechless, still holding himself with eyes wide.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, finally coming to his senses and frantically tucking himself away. For the first time he’s filled with immense embarrassment at finally being caught but you just look at him with a sweet smile on your face.

“Don’t worry, you can clean it up,” you say, “I’ll watch. And then you can tell me how long you’ve been watching me, hmm?”

“I–I haven’t–”

“Did you think I didn’t see you in my bedroom the other night?” you ask, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re quiet but not that quiet. Lucky for you I like it.”

The flush that spreads over his cheeks is ridiculous and you giggle, tapping your foot next to the offending spots on the floor.

“Come on, filthy boy. Hands and knees, put that tongue to work. I want to see that floor shine. And don’t get back up until I tell you.”

With that, you unwrap the towel from your body and neatly toss it in the hamper as he lowers himself to the floor. Staring at your feet, he tentatively wraps his hand around your ankle and slides it up your calf. When he looks up at you, eyes filled with wonder and desire, you smile down at him, stroking his hair. Slowly, he lowers his mouth to the floor and with a tentative lick, begins to scoop up his seed.

“Right where you belong,” you hum.

Right where I belong, he thinks, the salt of his release tangy in the back of his throat.

Right where I belong.

#phantom x reader #phantom x female reader #phantom ghoul #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

[ramblingoak]

A Nap With The Captain

This is for @primosfiore who wanted a nap with Capitano Copia from my Steampunk Universe, Clockwork Hearts 💙 You do not need to read the other stories in this verse before this one!

Cardinal Copia x gn!reader

Other tales from the Clockwork Hearts universe: Capitano Copia, Clockwork Friends, Building a Family and Napping in the Clouds.

Warnings: none, sfw, 1k words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!)

He smelled like smoke and engine oil.

You had given up trying to get him to clean a bit before bed a while ago.  More often than not Copia was so exhausted after working on his airship The Impera all day that he’d barely manage to get his boots off before falling into bed.  Your bed, specifically.

Today was a little different though, the sun was still shining through the windows of your cabin when there was a quick knock on your door.  The knock was your only warning before Copia stumbled in looking like he’d stuck his wrench into the shining blue core of the ship.  You both were still for a beat as you blinked at each other.  Copia may have had the habit of barging into your cabin mostly unannounced but he was always willing to leave if you told him to.

Not that you ever did.

“What happened to you?”  Copia’s only response to your question was a grunt.  He continued to stand in place, his eyes looking a little unfocused as they watched you.  “Copia?”

“There might have been a little…explosion.”  Alarmed, you rushed up from your desk to check him over.  He weakly batted at your hands when you poked and prodded at him.  “Sto bene, I’m fine!”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”  He sighed but stopped fighting you, his cheeks pinking up a bit when you swept your fingers across them.  You gently pulled the goggles off his head, trying not to laugh when his salt and pepper hair stuck up every which way when they were gone.  “You need a shower.”

Copia rolled his eyes, reaching up to take your hands in his.  He brought them to his mouth and began pressing kisses into your knuckles.  “What I need is some sleep.”  He turned your hands over to press a kiss into each palm and then moved lower to kiss where your pulse was strong on the inside of your wrists.  “Preferably with you at my side.”

“Is that an order?”  You rolled your eyes at the raised eyebrow on his face and then corrected yourself.  “I’m sorry, is that an order Capitano?”

“Sì!  The very highest of orders.”  

He dropped your hands and immediately went over to the small bed along the wall.  You shyly looked away, expecting him to work on removing some of his clothes but when the bed springs creaked noisily you looked back to see him sprawled across your bed fully clothed.

“Hey!  Ugh Copia, you’re getting everything dirty!”  He mumbled something in Italian as you unbuttoned his vest, turning away from you so he was facing the wall.  You straightened up to glare down at him, annoyed at all the grease and dirt you could already see on your clean blankets.  “At least take your damned boots off.”

His only response was more grumbling so you took them off yourself, wrinkling your nose and quickly dropping them to the floor when they were off.  Copia was already still, his quiet snores filling the room when you took a step back from the bed.  It was rare to see him so peaceful.  Ever since you had met him he always seemed to be on the move.  Whether it was strolling along the deck of his ship or elbow deep in some machine or even following you around like his little clockwork rats followed him, Copia was rarely still.

It made moments like this special.

You took a few steps back from the bed, wincing when the floorboards creaked under your feet.  While he napped you could work on the new engine designs.  Everything needed to be reimagined and rebuilt, parts needed to be bought, parts needed to be stolen…there was so much to do.  Too much to do and precious little time to do it in.  But Copia needed this, he needed rest.  You would never deny him that.

“Are you staring at me while I sleep?”

His voice startled you and when your eyes focused on him again he was looking over his shoulder grinning like an idiot.  

“More like glaring.  You’ve gotten grease over everything.  Again.”

“A little grease never hurt anyone.”  He rolled onto his back and held a hand out, his gloved fingers wiggling in your direction.  “Come here.”

“Copia I have to finish this.”  

“And you will, but right now you should rest.  With me.”  When you remained unmoved he stuck his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.  “Per favore.”

You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t.  And not just because you did really need to finish the diagram you were working on but also because whatever was developing between you and Copia was filling your head and heart with all sorts of ideas.  Ideas you weren’t sure could ever actually happen, not with so much on the line right now.  But maybe that was reason enough to let whatever was going on develop.

Not knowing what tomorrow would bring was reason enough to take a chance.

“Alright, fine.”  

His glove was warm under your hand when you let him tug you into bed.  He scooted over just a bit more, enough to give you some more room but not enough that you had no other choice but to be pressed against him.  Copia was humming a jaunty tune as you got settled, your head finally resting on his shoulder and one of your arms wrapped around his waist.

“See?  Questo è buono.”  He took your hand resting on his stomach in one of his and gave it a squeeze.  “Good, right?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, burying your nose in his shirt and collecting yourself before you answered, “It’s very good, Copia.”

“Ah ah, it’s Capit–ai!”

He jerked away when you pinched his side, giving you the same look that used to scare you but now it just made you smile.

“My apologies.”  You rubbed your hand over where you pinched him and his body soon relaxed again, his eyes once more beginning to droop.  “It’s very good, Capitano.”

His lips pulled up in a soft smile but you could tell he was already falling asleep.  You shifted a bit next to him to get comfortable again and it wasn’t long before you were joining him.  The hum of the ship and the sounds of his breathing following you into your dreams.

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

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#copia x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #copia fanfiction #steampunk copia #clockwork hearts #oakie's writing

[midnight-moth]

Mushy May 2024

Massage - Mountain/Phantom

Thank you to @forlorn-crows for organizing Mushy May for the second year in a row!

Divider by @ghuleh-recs

No CWs - 761 Words below the cut or on ao3

“Okay. Enough’s enough! If you ingrates want me to keep cooking for you, you need to stop losing or stealing all my damn utensils.”

Mountain is yelling at no one in particular, as he tries to fish cooked noodles out of the pot with a fork. He grunts in frustration as they continue to slip off and back into the boiling pot of water.

“So much for the environment I guess.” He pulls a colander out from the cupboard and slams the door so hard it makes the rest rattle.

He wanted to reuse the pasta water to blanch the spinach for his sauce. But now it’s swirling down the drain along with his patience.

He is missing his largest whisk, a meat tenderizer, a rolling pin, and now, his spaghetti spatula. Who knows what else. He’ll find out when he looks for it in the usual place and comes up empty handed.

Mountain turns his head in the direction of a tail swishing low across the floor, Phantom, hovering in the doorway.

“Can I help you, bug?”

“I just heard some slamming, and I wanted to see if everything’s okay?”

“Sweet of you to ask, bug. I’m just missing some of my cooking stuff.”

“What kinda stuff?”

Mountain rattles off names for items that Phantom doesn’t think he’s heard before. Mountain reads the confused expression on his face and begins to describe the objects and their uses.

“Oh, oh nooooo.” Phantom rubs his hands together nervously, staring at Mountain’s feet.

“What is it? Lemme guess, Swiss. He’s been hiding things on purpose to fuck with me. Or Sunshine? April Fools was over a month ago...”

“No… it’s not that. Just … wait.”

Phantom zips off down the hall and returns a few moments later. Mountain whips his head around as a bunch of objects clatter onto the granite.

“I’m sorry!” Phantom yelps, as if he’s been struck.

Mountain pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing out one prolonged, exasperated breath through his nose. “Do I even want to know? Do I need to sterilize these? Or should I just burn them.”

“No! Nothing like that!” Phantom offers no further explanation, he just stands there red-faced and horrifically embarrassed.

“So then, why did you have all that?”

“Well, it’s just, my guitar is heavy, and my back was really starting to hurt. But I didn’t wanna say anything. Cause - I didn’t want them to think I couldn’t do it.”

Mountain refocuses his efforts on sounding less irritated. “What does that have to do with a rolling pin?”

“I was just trying to - well - lemme show you.”

Phantom takes the rolling pin and stands in front of the wall, uses his tail to shove it behind his back, wedging it between himself and the wall.

Mountain watches incredulously as he bends his legs and uses the thing to steamroll his back. It must feel good, because his tail starts thumping on the ground like a double kick on a bass drum.

“Oh, bug….” He still can’t quite figure out what the whisk or the meat tenderizer would accomplish, but he gets it now.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve put it back. I did put most of it back. I just… these were the best. And I forgot.” He really does sound guilty, as evidenced by the wobble in his voice and the way he won’t meet Mountain’s eyes.

“You know any of us would’ve helped you if you had asked? But…” the unspoken second half of that sentence is that Mountain knows better than anyone how hard it is to ask for help, or admit one’s pain and suffering.

Mountain tosses the useless fork in the sink and closes the gap between them in one elongated stride.

“Sit.” Mountain gestures to one of the stools flanking the counter.

Phantom hops up, awaiting a lecture, or some form of admonishment. Instead, Mountain’s large hands start kneading away. Practiced fingers that have worked countless loaves of bread, rolls, homemade pasta, and quite a few ghouls, melt the tension and untie the knots in his overworked muscles.

“Oh my godddddddddddddd!” Phantom’s spine goes limp, but his tail thumbs twice as fast and loud as it had with the rolling pin.

Mountain pauses, hands hovering over hunched shoulders “Too much pressure?”

“No, it’s just so much better than that fucking rolling pin!”

Mountain bites back his laughter, his past irritation also down the drain along with the pasta water. He keeps kneading and rubbing until Phantom is more pliable than most of the dough, and ghouls he’s worked on the kitchen counter.

#mushy may 2024 #mountain ghoul #phantom ghoul #aeon ghoul #the band ghost fanfic #nameless ghouls #moth’s mushy may #midnight moth writes