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gravehags · 6 months

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Phantom ghoul begging to breed you but Mountain having to be there to keep him under control so he doesn't accidentally hurt you

Just big ghoul keeping small ghoul in line teehee

OOH BABY

mountain easing phantom’s cock inside you, far too slowly for the smaller ghoul’s liking, and gently telling him watch how she stretches around you, how perfect she is for you. phantom nods frantically, regarding your flushed face and the way your mouth hangs open in pleasure. gently, bug. show her how good she’s making you feel. you yourself nod encouragingly, biting hard on your lower lip. phantom’s hips slowly begin to jerk - sliding himself in and out of you with pathetic little whimpers while mountain stands behind him holding his shoulders. he adores you so much and all he wants to do is take and take and take and make you his. you’re keening and arching so beautifully beneath him, the sight makes his vision go spotty and his head swim. a little harder now, bug, she can take it. the next time he pushes into you it’s with such force it moves you up the bed and makes you cry out. again, you pant, nodding deliriously to mountain, do it again honey that was so good. phantom soon sets a pace, rough but nothing you can’t handle, rutting into you with snarls and moans on his lips. you know exactly what he could do to you if beloved mountain wasn’t there to guide him and that makes you wild. his hips snap brutally against you, spurred on by the pretty little noises you make. you feel so good, bug, you cry out as you make eye contact with mountain. he himself looks hungry beyond belief but still he attends to his duty, fingers digging into phantom’s shoulders. when you start to clench around him, phantom begins gasping as if he’s desperate for air. gonna knot her, mount, he whines, fuck baby you want my knot? want me to fill you up with my kits? that alone has you careening over the edge, crying out a litany of yeses. you already feel the base of him fattening, locking inside you and you throw your head back with an exhilarated laugh. good boy, mountain coos into his ear, placing a little kiss on his bare shoulder. the way he stretches you and his sweet little whimpers are enough to rocket you into your second orgasm. beautiful, mountain says, breathing heavily through his nose, so beautiful taking his knot like this. go on, bug. fill her up. the command is all phantom needs as he paints the walls of your cunt with his seed. you’re so deliciously full and for a brief moment you lament your different biologies. finally, mountain lets him go and he falls forward to collapse on you, your name a prayer on his lips. mountain disappears momentarily and you’re content to stroke phantom’s sweat-damp hair as he slowly deflates inside you. when mountain returns, he’s bearing a warm wet rag and easing the smaller ghoul off and out of you. as he collapses on the bed next to you, mountain dutifully runs the rag between your legs to clean up the mess. when he leaves again for a moment, you turn to phantom and his anxious gaze. did i do good? he asks. did i hurt you? you smile. you were perfect bug. so good for me. wasn’t he a good boy, mount? the tall ghoul re-enters the room with two glasses of water which he sits down on the bedside table. mountain makes a noise of affirmation and smiles, sitting beside the two of you. when he moves to leave both you and phantom make noises of dissent as you reach for him. with a grin that shows his sharp teeth he begins to strip down and slips into bed beside phantom. your turn next, mount, phantom murmurs, half asleep. mmhmm, you agree, just as sleepy, you can show bug how a professional does it.

#mountain ghoul #phantom ghoul #nameless ghouls #nameless ghouls x reader #phantom ghoul x reader #rachel writes

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atomicbland · 4 months

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Just A Mirage

Hello I'm outting myself as the ──★ ˙🍓anon from @ghoulphile. Anyways they've inspired me to fall face first dip my toe back into writing and might as well share the brain rot with the class. This is my first time writing smut or anything relatively like this so any questions comments critques are welcome! I dont bite unless you want me to

pairings: cooper howard x fem!reader rating: 18+ MDNI! warnings: bondage, degradation, pet names, mentions of age gap (obviously), Cooper Howard being a jackass in general, canon typical chem use, smoking AO3 Link

You were tired, thirsty, and hungry. Your rations had been finished earlier that morning though it was not by your hand. The tall ghoul who looked like he had walked right off the set of one of those western movies with his cowboy hat, ragged leather duster, and shotgun strapped to his back had stolen the last of your food and water while you stepped away to relieve yourself. You had come back to him chewing on your stash of jerky while letting his scruffy companion, “Dogmeat”, drink straight from your water flask. You learned quickly that no matter what, he’d treat the dog better than you. He kept you on a leash, his lasso was tied around your waist and tethered to the weapon belt that might as well have been fused into his skin. Anytime you weren’t keeping pace he’d give a rough tug of the rope, causing it to bite into your belly. Argued it’s easier to keep track of you that way.

While you lamented over the loss of your food and water and debated if hiring the old ghoul was a smart choice something catches your attention stopping you in your tracks. Along the edge of the tree line, you spot the remains of what looked like a house, bigger than any house you’ve come across. The roof and windows were still somewhat intact and something that looked like brick peeked through the vines that had taken over the structure. You felt the bite of the rope at your stomach.

“Now, I done told you what’ll happen if I gotta tug this damn rope again…” the Ghoul threatened from in front of you.

“I saw someth-”

“You ain’t seen nothin’,” he spat. “A mirage. Just that pretty lil’ head of yours playin’ tricks sweetie.” He tugged the rope again, urging you to move along not even bothering to look in the same direction as you.

Sweetie. Whenever he called you that you could feel the heat of a thousand rads shoot through your body, making your blood boil.

“Maybe my mind wouldn’t be playing tricks if I still had my food and water!” You didn’t budge, refusing to play his stupid game. You were in charge, hiring him to escort you to the Old World Wall safely.

He turned to face you, his eyes hidden by the brim of his hat but his features were twisted into a scowl. “What was that lil lady?”

He didn’t scare you. You cleared your throat. “I said. I NEED water. You don’t get any caps or vials if I’M dead!” He stays silent, still glaring. A month's supply of vials upon arrival was on the line and he knew it. You point towards the treeline. “I saw a house over there. We're out of rations and it's getting dark. Can we at least set up camp there?”

His answer is wordless, whistling a command to Dogmeat to run ahead to the house. He gives another tug at the rope, commanding you to follow behind him, a cautious hand at his holster.

The inside of the house was far nicer than the outside led you to believe. While everything appeared to be overrun by nature the original bones were still there. Holey yet plush couches formed a sitting area around a fire pit that recessed into the tattered wall. The floorboards creaked and moaned under the new weight as the three of you walked around making sure the area was clear. Dusty paintings littered the walls, images nearly impossible to make out in the dim light.

“Now smoothie,” the Ghoul started, taking a quick break to puff his inhaler, “I’mma take you off yer leash and scope the perimeter ‘fore we hunker down.”

You nod, happy to have some relief from the scratchy fibers of the rope and to get some sort of break from your freakish travel partner. Not that you didn’t hate him but the way he spoke and stole from you did wear on your nerves. All of the stupid pet names that cowboy gave you did something to you. You couldn’t place it, a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach, a milder feeling of what he did when he’d make a pass at you. And despite how much he annoyed you, you found him strangely attractive. On those sleepless night when you were sure he was sleeping, you’d study his features, imagining his strong hands around you as he pulled your hips down onto his, his cock hitting your core just right making your back arch and pulling the same loud cries of pleasure you had heard him pull from others in the adjacent room of whatever hostel would allow a ghoul and his dog.

The smell of viscera and tobacco cloud your senses, and you feel a gloved hand around the back of your neck, ripping you back to reality. “And be good for me while I’m gone.” The heat of his breath travels down your neck and straight between your thighs.

You watch as he slinks away, stopping at the crumbling doorway—a dark shadow masking the top half of his face. “Oh and sweetheart,” he pulls a cigarette from one of the pockets of his duster, lighting it before he continued, “be a doll an’ rangle somethin’ up for dinner. Ain’t much in the mood for ass jerky t’night.” He flashes you a smile from underneath his hat before leaving, Dogmeat happily cantering after him.

The house is larger than it looks on the inside and despite its current state of ruin, you could see it in all of its glory, like one of those fancy houses you see in the movies. People smiling and laughing around a table piled with food, dressed in the most beautiful clothes that shimmered against the light. Women with beautifully painted faces and clean, perfectly styled hair. Those movies always made you wonder about the world before the bombs, before everyone wanted to kill everyone else, before the fear of radiation.

You find your way into the kitchen, cracked black and white tiles decorate the floor, dingy teal cabinets matching the Atomic Queen appliances hug the walls. You take care to peek behind every cabinet door checking for any food or water that might have been missed by whoever came through here last. You manage to find some unlabeled booze and canned food tucked behind the remains of some long abandoned animal nest, while it isn’t much at least you’ll be able to eat tonight. In another cabinet you find some Sugar Bombs, the box is dented and beat up but surprisingly unopened, lucky you.

You move towards the back of the kitchen, finding yourself in a small dark room. The smell of mildew and rot is so strong your stomach would've turned if it wasn't already empty, it's so bad you couldn't bother to examine the shelves that lined the wall. You make a mental note to ask the Ghoul to check for loot, of the two of you, he had the stronger stomach to rifle through damn near anything. Pushing through the door to the other side, fresh air greets you, a welcomed relief to your lungs. The very last dregs of sunlight shine through the windows that made up the roof, tall green trees kiss the glass in a desperate attempt to break free. If it wasn't for the roof you would've sworn you accidentally found your way outside.

With one hand on the holster of your knife you creep with the brick of the wall at your back, slowly examining the plants in front of you. You recognized a few, Daffodils, Marigolds, even Tato vines. However a majority were new to you; large flowers the size of your head, and plants that seemed to grow from the roof. You spot some pear and apple trees with the largest fruits you’ve ever seen further into the room. As you found your way to the perpendicular wall, you noticed that it was made of a giant window. You remember seeing building plans for something similar in a pre-war book years ago, a glass house that kept the plants inside at the ideal temperature. For whatever reason the plants in this glass house were thriving on neglect, carrying on with life as if the bombs never dropped.

BANG!

The sound makes you drop to the ground, covering your head. Whatever it was you just hope it was coming from the Ghoul.

Just as you're about to get up, something catches your eye. You crawl towards the brush to get a closer look, little red fruits perched on vines decorated with white flowers cover the dirt by your feet. You pluck one, rolling it between your fingers the skin is rough, yellow dots littering the surface of the red flesh. The sweet scent of the fruit travels to your nose and entices your palate you know better than to put anything in your mouth. Instead, you procure the small tin that you use to store food from your bag and fill it with the mystery fruit.

BANG!

Hastily you shove the container back in your bag, whatever was going on outside had you a fair bit more concerned now that you could hear Dogmeat barking wildly. You quickly get up and make your way out of the glass house, through the dark storage room, and past the kitchen. Not stopping until you've collided with a large solid mass, sending a plume of dust into the air as your ass hits the cushion of the couch.

“You’re ‘sposed to say ‘scuse you after runnin’ into a fella sweetheart.”

You look up, your eyes meet the dark shadow of the Ghoul's from under his hat. Yellowed teeth show through as he grins wide. You look down to see in his gloved hand are two Rad Rabbits, in the other an unopened can of purified water. Relief washes over you, knowing that your dinner would be more than just Cram and Sugar Bombs.

“I believe a thank you's in order.” His stupid handsome grin growing even wider. Clearly proud of himself despite him having taken down much harder prey.

You glare at him before softening, in some way, you feel like this is his way of apologizing for earlier. Any time he pissed you off he would at least make up for it with his actions. Stolen stimpak? Within the next day, you'd find it replaced along with a bag of RadAway. A few bottle caps would find their way into your bag too, when you brought it up to him he'd deny it, telling you to keep a better eye on your shit.

“Thank you,” you pause, it just dawned on you that you didn't know his name. He was the Ghoul, the Cowboy, your escort across the wasteland. But no name to attach to him. You fish for a polite title for him, and if you knew him better you would've punctuated your gratitude with a kiss, yet the older man didn't seem like one for physical contact. “Thank you, Sir.” Is what you land on.

His smile fades as if your gratitude offends him and he tosses rabbit carcasses into your lap.

“Make sure Dogmeat gets her fair share. She found ‘em after all.” He says, patting the mutt beside him before making his way to the firepit, and lighting another cigarette.

#the ghoul #cooper howard #cooper howard smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul smut

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 2 months

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So of course we've all seen the smut where the ghoul eats you out while on your period...... and my question is this...... do you think that is strictly the ghoul thing? Because of the cannibalism? Or did Cooper prewar already have his red wings? He seems the type to do ANYTHING to make his girl feel better if you catch my drift. Just a thought 😂🤭

It's absolutely not just a cannibalism-related thing; while, ironically, I don't really see Prewar!Cooper Howard as someone who would really enjoy the iron-heavy taste of blood/very rare meat/game-type meat all that much, you are 110% correct in saying that he would do anything to make his partner feel better.

Plus, he's just a munch in general. If he wants to eat pussy, he wants to eat pussy now, not in 4-7 days. It being a little medium-rare doesn't bother him at all.

I didn't intend for this to end up this long. I just sat down to answer this ask real quick and suddenly I had like 2,500 words. I guess you could call it a spiritual prequel to "Bloodletting".

There are a lot of things you don't enjoy about being a person who menstruates. There are also a lot of things you don't enjoy about living in California, namely the summers with their unforgiving heat and brain-frying sun.

Menstruation in the California summer is downright unfair.

After a long day of enduring your body's seemingly intense resentment towards you, you feel disgusting when you finally make it to the home you share with your fiance and immediately drag yourself into a scalding hot shower. Cooper often likes to joke that you're trying to boil yourself in there, playfully chastise that it isn't good for your skin, but the way the heat seeps into your sore muscles is like a siren's call. Once the tap runs cold, you begrudgingly dry yourself, pulling your damp hair up and away from your neck and shoulders before rummaging through the medicine cabinet for something to hopefully ease the ache in your cramping abdominal muscles.

Too tired and sore to worry about scrounging up any food, you throw your still lightly-damp, nude body into your unmade bed and pull the top sheet around you. Normally, the thing would be nicely made before you left the house for the day, but since Cooper left long before you and it fell to you to do the making today, it simply hadn't happened. Cranky, you offer the sleeping dog curled up at the foot a few scratches on his sweet head before closing your eyes and getting in a short, fitful nap.

The familiar jangle of Cooper's keys in the front lock tugs you out of the dreamless void you'd fallen into at some point, and you smile briefly as you hear Roosevelt scuttle off from where he'd been watching over you towards the door. After a moment, you can hear the garbled greetings the older man gives his furry companion, the first step in his homecoming routine, with which you are now intimately familiar. The next step is to shed his boots and jacket, then to drop his keys and the mail on the small table inside the door.

"Honey?" he calls, footsteps moving your way. The two of you spoke on the phone around lunch and he had received a rather generous earful of your complaints.

"I'm here." you respond, turning to face the ceiling groggily as he enters.

"My poor sugar." he laments, the mattress sinking on one side as he sits down beside you, one warm hand patting your back sympathetically. Roosevelt sits briefly beside the bed, watching you curiously, but Cooper dismisses him to his bed in the living room softly, and the dog obeys quietly. "I'm gonna hop in the shower real quick. Can I get you something to take first? Or the hot water bottle, maybe?"

"I already took something, I'm just waiting for it to kick in." you reply, eyes closed as you try to soothe your abdominals with the warmth of your bare hands. "I would take the hot water bottle if you're offering, though."

You cuddle the warm sack of rubber he fetches for you, holding it snug against your stomach under the top sheet as you listen to the sounds of him quickly hopping into and out of the shower. When he emerges, you can see a faint amount of steam seep into the bedroom, as opposed to the thick clouds that typically roll out when you're finished.

"Feeling any better, sweetheart?" he asks, leaning down to kiss at your bare shoulder.

"Eh, sort of." you respond, smiling at the feeling of his lips on your back. The tickling feeling combined with the smell of his body wash encompassing you makes you clench a little, which both fans the low-burning coals in your gut that always smoulder around him and makes another cramp rip through you, sending you whining.

"Aww, poor thing." he coos, petting at your leg and knee. "Did you try anything else?"

"The stuff I took earlier is working okay, and the water bottle is nice." you say, setting the thing aside as you sit up to look at him. There's just a touch more white in the salt-and-pepper of his sideburns now than there was when you originally met him, but you find it very appealing. "I just wish everything wasn't so tight and tense, you know?"

"I hear you." he says, lips moving along your forehead. "I could try making you feel better, if you'd let me."

You chuckle in response, tossing yourself down flat in a dramatic display of exhaustion.

"If you can figure out how, be my guest."

Your words bring a massive grin to his face, and suddenly he's planted himself down between your knees, hands running along your inner thighs and rapidly up towards your mound.

"Cooper, what're you--" you begin, but he cuts you off with a gentle shushing and a light massage to your tight thigh muscles.

"Just lie back and let me help you." he says, lying down flat with his shoulders right even with your knees. He peppers kisses from your navel, down the little trail of soft, downy hair that leads to your mons before ghosting his lips back and forth, back and forth across the skin. It raises goosebumps on your skin almost instantly in anticipation.

"Honey." you huff as another cramp balls up in your middle at the sensation. "Don't tease."

"M'sorry, my girl." he apologizes. "I'll make it better."

Only a moment later, you're crying out as he spreads you open gently with his hands and finds your aching little bud with the tip of his tongue. He doesn't like rare meat all that much, from what you've seen, so you're not sure how crazy he is about the taste of blood, but he doesn't hesitate to slide his tongue fully along your wet, sensitive slit, using the wriggling muscle to worship every inch of you until your vision is full of stars.

The tension in your abdomen increases as he brings you closer and closer to orgasm, your legs quickly moving up to wrap around his head of their own accord, holding him tight in place with his lips and tongue against your clit. Eventually, you feel his fingers gently swiping around your entrance, and the gasp that leaves you when he slips two of them inside of you is echoed by a low groan from your partner. Your hands are knotted tight in the disheveled sheets, your hips bucking and grinding against Cooper's face like they have a mind of their own.

The rhythm he's playing against your bud increases as you whine and cry out his name again, and by the time he's made you cum for the third time, he's visibly grinding his hips against the mattress, licking and sucking at your skin until you tug on his hair for mercy.

His lips and chin are streaked in scarlet as he pulls himself back up, grinning down at you as he pivots to settle on his hip beside you, his warm, softly calloused hand hand still stroking your thigh lovingly as you ride out your last few scant shivers.

"Feel any better now?" he asks as he takes in your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. You roll your eyes playfully, kicking softly in his direction, only to be undercut by him seizing your foot in his hand and peppering it with kisses, making you squeal with laughter.

"Alright, I feel a lot better." you admit when you finally calm down. You sit up a ways, nuzzling beneath his chin, planting wet kisses there and feeling him shiver in response. "But I still think you should have to split these stupid things with me. Or find a way to stop them, maybe. Write some scientists a check or something."

"Oh, I can stop them, sweetheart." he says bawdily, tucking his chin to tease your throat with his tongue as your hand moves to rest on his cheek. "For about a year, a least."

The hand resting on his cheek moves to the back of his head, threading into the thick, dark hair there and gently pressing there to usher him down towards you until your lips meet once more. He knows this is a hot button for both of you, and you want to chastise him for being such a tease. However, your mind is too foggy.

As he leans further towards you, tongue pushing deeper into your mouth, your hand is finally able to find what it's been seeking. His erection is already throbbing in your grip as you stroke him through his boxers, a groan seeping through his nostrils as he pulls back from your kiss. Despite this, you hook your leg around his hip the best you can, attempting to tug him back down between your legs.

"Coop." you whisper, pushing your hips at his.

"You don't have to do that, sweetheart." he says, eyes clenched as tight as his sudden grip on the bed sheets curled around his left hand. You know he wants to fuck you, that he needs to cum after everything he's given you; the evidence is in your hand. However, you also know he'll deny himself for your sake.

"Let me take care of you." you whisper, lips tracing along his throat as your hand continues to work him, concentrating your movements towards the tip and earning a genuine whimper from him. The throaty, vulnerable sound from him makes your entire gut clench, and your lips latch onto his stubbly throat, your tongue lathing his freshly bathed skin.

"I took care of you because I wanted to help you feel better. I don't need anything in return." he replies, his voice low and quiet as he strains to keep it even.

"I want you to feel better, too."

Your hand is fully stroking him again, and by the time you notice the growing wet spot near your hand, he's leaning down and forcing his tongue back into your mouth, sighing contently as he pulls himself back between your legs. One hand softly kneads your left breast, his weight balanced on his elbow and knee as he works his shorts down, kicking them off the foot of the bed absentmindedly.

A subconscious sigh leaves you as you drink in the sight of him, his leaking cock laying, flushed red and painfully hard, against his toned stomach. Trying your best to ignore the way he smirks at you, easy as you wrap your legs around his hips, his hand moving between you to guide himself teasingly along your entrance. You sigh his name when the head of him finally catches and sinks fluidly into your warmth.

Your tense pelvic muscles ache in protest for a passing moment as they adjust to him, to his weight pressing into you, but as you breathe deep, the stretch eases away some of the strain, leaving you sighing with relief as he begins to gently fuck you.

He's soft and slow to begin with, watching your face closely as you adjust to him, burying his face in your neck and latching onto it with his lips as you finally take him to the hilt.

"Oh, Cooper." you sigh, gripping hard at his shoulders as you grind your clit against his pubic bone, the soft texture of his pubic hair adding to the mountain of sensations he's making you experience. "I needed this so bad."

Your admission seems to only fuel him, groaning as his fingers move to strum at your clit again, pressing practiced circles around the swollen little nub just like you'd shown him to do. The rough feeling of the small callous he has on his trigger finger drives you absolutely mad with pleasure, making you tighten around him as you cry out.

"Fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day." he confesses in a low, hushed tone as his hips continue to slap against yours, still mindful of where his weight is placed over you, but growing steadily more forceful in his movements. Soon, he has you built up into a sweaty mess, crying out for more of his touch, more of him in general as he holds your hips tight.

"I'm gonna cum, Coop." you pant, face red hot and damp as the rest of you as he continues to work back and forth between your thighs. The sudden feeling of his white teeth, sharp and strong, digging into the crook of your neck makes you whimper, and the sound seems to teleport him right to the exact same spot you're in.

"Shit, me too." he hisses, lips and tongue still attacking your neck as his hips quickly lose their rhythm, driving hard into you once, twice, three more times before he pulls back and shoots his load all over your soft stomach, growling like a wild animal as jet after jet of thick, sticky cum coats your flushed skin.

Once you've both come down from your high, you wiping pitifully at your sweaty face as he extracts himself from you as gently as possible, hand threading through his damp hair, you both chuckle, lying on your sides facing one another at the foot of the bed, catching your breaths. He grabs for your hand like he always does after you make love, holding it snug in the palm of his own as you bask in the afterglow.

The only difference now is that there's an engagement ring on your hand for him to play with. Seeing it on you seems to make him swell with pride, and that makes you feel warm inside.

"How does a nice, hot bath and some takeout sound?" he asks eventually, running his lips along your forehead as his hands massage at your lower back.

"Sounds amazing." you smirk, pulling back a few inches to look at him mischievously. "But I already had a super long, hot shower when I got home. Is double dipping allowed?"

Smirking at your coy playfulness, he pulls you up into his lap and snug against his chest, both of you wincing slightly at the slick, wet feeling of the mess all over both of your stomachs. The man never fails to produce quite a bit.

"Normally, I'd say no." he fires back matter-of-factually. "But considering the circumstances, I'll allow it this one time."

"You did make quite the mess." you chastise, but your words are quickly interrupted by him quickly snatching you up, hefting you into the air as he takes a moment to balance you both before making his way into the en suite bathroom.

"Well, one could argue that the mess is at least partially your fault, but I'm willing to take responsibility for my part and help tidy you up." he chuckles as he carries you towards the tub. "I'm very thorough in my cleaning."

"Promise?" you chuckle suggestively.

"Promise." he winks.

#feeling this big time right now #thank you anon #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard smut #prewar!cooper howard #cooper howard headcanons #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

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zomboivex · 1 month

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Hi there! Hope you are doing super well. I have a HC request. How would Jin, Romeo, Ritsu, and Taiga; react to hearing MC singing and playing an instrument? Like a guitar, piano or harmonica.

Anyways! Stay hydrated and be sure to eat. I look forward to reading your work.

The Sound of Music

How Jin, Romeo, Ritsu, and Taiga would react to hearing my any musical talent from MC.

.・✫・゜・。. .・✫・゜・。. .・✫

Fingers would position themselves at the ready. Each key hit with the varying intensity needed- soft subtle tunes carrying through the building you called home. The piano, when you first found it, had been quite dusty. Clear that no one had paid it any mind for some time. Your hesitation to actually take a seat and play clad with the trepidation of each note that carried out from your delicate touch.

The build up from each key growing louder as you found a budding confidence within you. It had been some time since you last played. Since you last found any joy in music. Especially since you first came to Darkwick with the newly placed curse. That fact weighing heavy on your chest. But.. your time was nearing an end. The anomaly inside you growing- gnawing and chewing away at your own consciousness. Each day becoming that much harder to push through. So.. the least you could do was pour your heart out through the sound of music.

Each note carrying the weight of your feelings. Even if no one were here to listen, you hardly cared. It was a mournful song for yourself. Lamenting over what was to come. What had passed. What will never be.

Engrossed in your own melody, you wouldn’t hear the footsteps approaching from behind you.

𝓙𝓲𝓷 𝓚𝓪𝓶𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓲

Hands appeared beside you, the slender fingers carefully pressing onto the keys to complement the melody you were so carefully crafting. The subtly of your duet echoing up through the high-rise ceiling, reverberating throughout the Clementia halls. The two of you made quite the pair on the piano, the melody coming to its end before your eyes met the Frostheim Captain. His gaze icy and unwavering.

A nervous chuckle worked its way from your lips. “I wasn’t expecting any visitors.”

Jin’s gaze piercing through you before his answer, which came out in an assured mumble- what an odd combination, “I didn’t expect you to know how to play.”

Anxiously, you would look back at your fingers. The tips resting gracefully atop the keys. Long slender ones reaching over to now place gently over yours, pressing down as a few notes rang out in response.

“When did you learn how to play?” The question must have caught Jin by surprise because he would let his eyes rest to his hand resting on yours.

“Does it really matter?”

Maybe it didn’t. You asked to try and get to know the ghoul before you just a little more. But he didn’t seem too keen on giving away more information than necessary. Why would it matter, anyways? You wouldn’t exactly be around to remember the details, anyways. Not with the curse transforming you as it was.

“You play nice.” Your words quiet. Topic shifting from your question.

A smirk, albeit small, formed on the male’s lips as his hands pulled from yours, resting in position as he began to play once more. Your fingers going to match the duet. Notes of musical splendor dancing between the two of you and throughout the room and no words shared. There wasn’t a reason for either of you to say much else, enjoying the simplicity in the moment, instead. Let things be as they were. Enjoy what you could while you were able.

𝓡𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓸 𝓢𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓹𝓲𝓾𝓼 𝓛𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓲

You continued to play, the tempo picking up and crescendo building as the climax of the song began to take off. You were fully engrossed in the music you were creating, lost in the melody that carried your thoughts to a world with less worries. A more carefree time- before you had been cursed. Every ounce of feelings poured into each brushing of the keys until the music would lull down and stop.

A soft clap followed by their own build up as you felt your body stiffen up. Turning your head, you were greeted with a gaze that could pierce through your soul.

“I didn’t expect you, of all people, to know how to play. Color me impressed.”

Your posture relaxed slightly. Romeo wasn’t one to give compliments. So it was odd he found himself here, in Clementia, listening as you play. This time, you were acutely aware of the approaching footsteps as Romeo would come closer- now standing behind you.

Fingers brushed along the keys, the melody carrying your melancholy throughout. Gentle. Soft. Sad. The notes each heavy on your heart before the lilting sound came to a natural end. No clapping followed this time. Only silence.

A reminder that Romeo was there when he spoke, “You’re not allowed to give up, BB.”

Ah. There it was.

“Who’s going to be the one to help me keep that BTH in check!? And don’t even suggest Shinjo! He’s almost worse! I can barely keep it together! So you’re not allowed to turn into that thing! Do you understand me!?” The histrionics following as his words echoed throughout the cathedral of Clementia.

You couldn’t find your voice- letting Romeo on his tirade of colorful words before he finally seemed to stop, voice catching in his own throat. His emotions on full display. He always was one to make his displeasures known. But you were surprised he actually cared.

“I understand.” You respond back quietly, turning once again to look back at the Sinostra student. His eyes aching and the threat of tears lingering. So unlike him. And yet- perfectly like him, at the same time. “We still have time.” You reassured him. You reassured yourself.

𝓡𝓲𝓽𝓼𝓾 𝓢𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓳𝓸

The entrance of another was not lost on you, your playing coming to an abrupt halt as your gaze would turn to look over at the approaching figure. Ritsu Shinjo. The last person you had ever expected to see visiting you.

His expression was that always confident gaze- unwavering in the assuredness of his entire being. You had grown fond of this aspect of Ritsu. If you had any doubts, they were quashed when you saw how sure of any outcome Ritsu was. Never faltering. It had given you your own strength to pursue breaking your curse. Even now, with the end nearing, you still found yourself feeling hopeful with how sure he was.

“You play well. As expected of my partner.” The words of praise reaching you. And you couldn’t help but to smile at them.

“It’s just a small hobby. Nothing to boast of-“ you tried to remain humble.

To which Ritsu immediately would call you out on, “Why be shy about it? The world should know just how great you are!” He definitely seemed confused on the matter. Why wouldn’t you want everyone to know?

But the thought was banished when your hand gently pat the seat next to you. “Do you play, Ritsu?”

The paralegal would, with poised posture, sit beside you as you had requested. Hands covering over the keys before giving that trademark grin of his, “I do.”

And then he’d press down, an elegant melody following. One you barely recognized. But the strokes were simple and easy enough to follow along so you’d let him take the lead.

The two of you would play together, your trepidation of each note clear while the radiant confidence from Ritsu would guide you along. Eventually, the song would reach its conclusion and, ever so gently, you felt a brief touch to your hand. The ghoul having brushed his fingers softly to the top of your hands before retracting. As if he could only interact momentarily. And- for a second- you thought you saw a hint of melancholy in his eyes. Brief. But it was there.

Perhaps Ritsu wasn’t as confident in the outcome as you had been hoping he’d be.

𝓣𝓪𝓲𝓰𝓪 𝓗𝓸𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓫𝓪𝓶𝓲

“The fuck is this?” A familiar voice spoke out, your hands pausing and head whipping around. Surely, you were just as confused as Taiga was. After all, what was he doing here? Of all the people to walk in on you- it had to be him.

“Taiga, what are you-?” Before you could continue asking, the ghoul would lazily plop down beside you on the bench. His eyes landing on the keys. For a moment, you thought that the two of you would have a moment. His own hand hovering over as if ready to press down. Did Taiga know how to play…?

This thought was quickly banished when the loud mashing of notes caused your ears to ring and eyes to squint. The abrupt noises ending as quickly as they had started and wild eyes meeting yours.

“How’d you make it sound so good?” Another mash of keys as if to emphasize his question. A bit of a smile tugging at your lips in response.

Fingers going to delicately take their place before softly pressing down. Once. Twice. Then you’d speak, “You press gently. Slow.”

Taiga observed for a moment before he’d go to place a finger on the key, pressing down as the string would vibrate to create a softer sound than before. A few soft taps. And then he’d stop, watching your hands.

“Show me how you made music.”

You would oblige, going to begin a softer melody. Taiga watching and observing. He would never remember how to play. But he wanted to remember how you played. So he would etch the melody you presented into his mind as best as he could.

𝓑𝓸𝓷𝓾𝓼

𝓗𝓪𝓻𝓾 𝓢𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓪

You had been practicing for hours, it seemed. The instrument firm in your hands as fingers plucked at strings. Thankful you lived alone in Clementia. Not because of shame but it made practice less distracting. The twinge of strings resounding throughout as your banjo played its bop. You had been engrossed in what you were doing- the gasp that followed shocking you as your eyes widened to meet equally (and surprisingly widened) eyes. Ones you had never seen before. Though you looked away quickly- afraid to make contact for long. Your cheeks burning.

“You know how to play banjo!?” The words excited as they left the ghoul in question.

“Y-yes.” You stammered.

Haru would give a toothy grin. In true Sims fashion, he would produce his own banjo from his pocket. And he would begin to play. Your nervous demeanor melting as you’d soon join in. And the both of you joyously playing the banjo together in Clementia halls.

.・✫・゜・。. .・✫・゜・。. .・✫

Thank you so much for your patience! I hope this is satisfactory for you. I’m not really much of a music person, myself. But I still had fun writing this.

#tokyo debunker #tdb #jin kamurai #romeo scorpius lucci #ritsu shinjo #taiga hoshibami #haru sagara #I had to with Haru #but he’s such a joy #vexanswersasks #vexiswritinghere

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anonwyvern · 3 months

Text

I’ve seen posts from over the years lamenting on the fact that our favorite seven-foot-tall ghoul has very little backstory, but you know, it’s probably one of my favorite things about him.

Sure, I totally get why some want to have the whole nine yards of his past (particularly with his contract) but I think it’s super fun to instill your own thoughts and theories because there’s essentially nothing there. He has just enough to build on, and I think it’s fascinating to see everybody else’s takes on his past and the utter confusing contradictions of his whole brainwashed contract definitely-not-a-slave don’t look a gift ghoul in the mouth sort of aspect. I’m pretty sure there was a post floating around at one point where even his creator had said he kept it open and vague for somewhat of that reason, and I personally think that’s cool af.

#I’m writing this under the influence of nasty Covid #so I might be slightly delirious #I’ve seen awesome takes of his past through fics and they were all a pleasure to read #keeps it from getting stale I feel like #charon fallout #fallout ghoul #fallout 3 #fallout #charon fo3

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coffeeghoulie · 6 months

Note

T4T swisstom with 20 for the kiss prompts if you comfortable with it

pls and thank you (your writing is amazing)

Thank you so much, and thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy this!

#20: Kiss on a scar from this prompt list

It's sticky and hot, middle of July heat making everything miserable. Even with the air conditioning cranked, the ghouls lament their normal piles, breaking off into pairs or alone. (Rain, however, whines with frustration when most of his mates aren't keen on cuddling together, his lower body temperature making the summer heat much more bearable.)

Swiss and Aeon find themselves on one of the couches in the common room, comfortably high and plastered together. Swiss, part fire, runs a little warmer, but Aeon's too clingy to really care. They chuff, rubbing their cheek against his chest, the scrape of his coarse chest hair just on the right side of too much stimulation.

Swiss raises his head lazily, gold eyes locked on them. "You comfy, bug?" He says, voice languid and slow.

"Mhm," Aeon hums, tongue too heavy in their mouth for longer answers. "You're pretty."

"Hmm?" Swiss says, a purr kicking up in his chest. Aeon giggles, pressing their face closer to him. His heartbeat thuds against his ribs, and Aeon lets their eyes shut, feeling it pulse against their cheek.

"Said you're pretty," Aeon repeats, rubbing their face against him like a cat. Their nose runs along the well-healed scars under his pecs, and they can't help themself but to press a kiss to the long line of faded scar tissue.

Swiss laughs, the sudden motion jolting them. "Nah, you're the pretty one, bug, you're all starry and shit."

Aeon whines, curling closer to him as their tail finds his, spiraling around it. "Not fair that you're good sweet-talkin' while you're high."

"Got lots of practice," Swiss coos, hand coming up to run through their sweaty hair. "Besides, you're doing pretty good at it too."

Aeon lifts their head, their purple eye meeting his gold, both of their pupils inky and swallowing up most of their irises. "Yeah?'

"Yeah," Swiss confirms with a little nod.

Aeon preens, giggling as they settle back down against Swiss's bare chest. They press little kisses under his pecs. "The best pillows," they declare, startling another laugh out of Swiss. The flash of teeth is a victory. "Switties."

"Dork," Swiss's hand skates up their back, skin clammy with sweat, fingers playing with the hem of their binder.

"Your dork," Aeon counters, mouthing at his chest, the barest hint of fangs against his skin. "'M your dork."

Swiss sits up a little, just enough to kiss the sweaty hair between their horns. "Yeah, bug, you're my dork. I'm not your chew toy though."

"Aw," Aeon whines, leaning back to prop their chin up on his chest, pouting as they make eye contact again. "Thought you liked it."

Swiss throws his head back and cackles, and Aeon can't help but laugh along.

#dot's writing #swiss ghoul #aeon ghoul #kiss prompts #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction

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miasmaghoul · 8 months

Note

Okay, you said you wanted non-sexual prompts, so if this is a no thats totally fine. Could you write like casual piss? I don't know how to word this. No smut involved, just domestic? If that makes sense...

anon please know that the phrase "casual, domestic piss" has been on repeat in my weird little brain since i first read this, and also that i had an idea for it immediately

god i am such a pissboy smh

anyway, here, have some soft rulti ft a little casual, domestic piss.

what a sentence.

Rain is not what you could call a morning person.

He never rouses before noon, at least not willingly, and even when he is awake he simply migrates. Shuffles out of bed and drapes himself dramatically over a sofa to doze back off until someone pays attention to him. Trying to wake Rain up before he's ready is a futile task at best, and at worst a bite risk. Generally this isn't much of a problem - mass is in the evening, there are no strictly scheduled mealtimes or chores, so Rain is free to be as slothful as his heart desires.

Even rehearsal doesn't usually interfere.

On an average day, any practice happens whenever the ghouls feel like it. There's no rhyme or reason to it, really; sometimes they have creative energy that needs expressing, sometimes Dew gets a bug up his ass about working on a solo and drags along company, sometimes Mountain gets in one of his moods and hauls Rain over his shoulder for an impromptu...rhythm session.

Point is, it's not really something that's planned. More of a casual affair, something they do every day but never the same way twice. Again, this works out perfectly for Rain. There's never a rush to start the day, and the others know by now not to expect him at anything close to a reasonable hour.

The issue arises when tours approach.

Unfortunately (for Rain), Copia has proven to be a morning person. Rain (somewhat) silently laments that fact every time Sister Imperator announces a new leg, a new cycle. Every time, Rain hopes it'll be different. That Copia will suddenly despise the idea of singing with the morning sun, that he won't expect them to be up and ready to go by 9am, can you imagine?

(It should be noted that Rain is the only ghoul that actually minds this.)

Alas, this never proves to be the case, and as soon as his phone chimed with the notification of an Imperator meeting Rain knew that his beauty sleep was soon to be severely compromised.

"Next week," Copia had said after Sister Imperator laid out the proposed itinerary. "Next week, on Sunday, we will resume our standard rehearsal schedule."

He'd handed out a list of thirty songs to each of them, a not-so-short list for the ghouls to study and provide input on. An opportunity for them to put together their own setlists to compare and contrast them with one another.

Rain had used his sheet of paper to hide his frown, dreading the fact that Sunday was only five sleeps away.

"I know that face," Swiss had teased when they left the meeting, looping a strong arm around Rain's shoulders. "Someone's being a pouty princess again."

Rain had given him a hiss, but Swiss just grinned at him in that very Swiss way and, well, Rain can never stay mad at him anyway.

"Not all of us look good with eye bags like yours" he'd grumbled, a statement that had wrung a loud ha from Swiss.

"I dunno," he'd snickered, ducking his head to knock his horns with Rain's. "You look pretty damn good when I tire you out."

Rain had rolled his eyes so hard he'd gotten dizzy, but it wasn't an accusation he could deny.

He also couldn't deny Swiss the opportunity to prove his point, and as they lay in the afterglow Rain gives a mighty yawn.

"This's bullshit," he slurs against Swiss' chest, nuzzling into the spot that smells the most like pepper and whisky and old weed. "Who even gets up that early?"

"Most of the abbey is up at dawn," Swiss chuckles, settling into Rain's lanky hold. "You're the exception to the rule, starfish."

Rain would argue, but then Swiss' purr kicks up and he's sinking his fingers into his sweat-damp waves and Rain feels little desire to do more than enjoy the way Swiss envelopes him. The way their skin sticks together with drying sweat, among other things. Swiss had given him a courteous cleanup where it mattered, but Rain's entirely too wiped out for a shower. Wonderfully sore all over, drained, and way too dehydrated to stand up for very long.

He doesn't mind it though - not when it makes him smell like Swiss too.

"Whatever," he grumbles, grabbing the covers and tugging them up over his shoulders. "S'still bullshit."

He's been fighting to keep his eyes open for the last twenty minutes or so, drifting on casual conversation and the brush of Swiss' fingertips along his bare back. Now that they're finally settling in Rain finds himself fading by the second.

"Don' wake me up'n the morning," he adds with another yawn, and the last thing Rain hears before all goes quiet is the raspy little laugh Swiss gives in return.

The next thing he hears is rushing water, creaking pipes and the telltale twitter of birdsong.

It feels like no time at all since he sunk into the peaceful realm of sleep, but when he dares to crack an eye Rain finds himself assaulted by rosy sunlight. Morning. Early, by the look of it. Rain shuts his eyes tight and groans.

"Finally," a deep voice hums, clearly amused. Footsteps pad across the floor and Rain feels the mattress dip behind him. "I've been shaking you for ten minutes."

Swiss reaches up to scratch at the base of one of Rain's horns, affectionate. Rain makes an unhappy sound, as close to a real whine as he ever gets, and Swiss gives his shoulder a squeeze.

"Why 'm I awake?" Rain hates his morning voice, all thick and inelegant. "Did I sleep 'til Sunday?"

"If that's what it takes to get you out of bed," Swiss chuffs, reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind Rain's ear. "Let's go, up 'n at 'em," he encourages, regardless of continual grumbly protests. "You might as well get used to existing before lunchtime while you can."

"This is torture," Rain complains, tucking his knees up towards his chest. "Inhumane."

"Good thing we aren't human, I guess."

Rain cracks an eye open just to shoot Swiss' blurry visage a sideways glare. Swiss winks as he lifts the covers just enough to lean down and press a kiss to Rain's shoulder. He rests his chin there after, gives him a warm smile.

"C'mon, raindrop," he lilts, sneaking lithe fingers under the covers. Dragging them along the nape of Rain's neck. "I'm drawing you a bath, surely you can forgive me."

Ah, that would explain the water he can still hear. Rain blinks at him, sluggish.

"Remains to be seen," he grouses, "but it's a start."

Swiss flashes him a grin, and then those warm, cozy covers are ripped from Rain's naked body with no ceremony. He yelps as the chilly morning air hits his skin, more awake than he ever intended to be and scowling at the other ghoul.

"Oh don't make that face," Swiss teases, reaching down to give Rain's nose a gentle flick. "C'mon, I put that weird shit you like in the tub and everything."

Swiss holds Rain's ankle, rubs his thumb over the bony ridge of it while Rain sniffs at the air. Picks up notes of rosemary and peppermint, citrus and rose. The bath salts Mountain had gifted him for Yule, an energizing scent that's sure to chase the exhaustion from his muscles.

Still, he can't give in that easily.

"Fine," he pouts, stretching his legs and not at all adoring the way Swiss' fingers glide along his skin. "But only if you carry me."

The words earn him an extreme eye roll, but Swiss can't hide his amusement. He heaves a mighty sigh, cracks his neck and knuckles, and Rain most definitely doesn't watch the muscles in his arms and chest flex.

"As you command, princess."

Swiss says it with an exaggerated bow, and then he's scooping Rain up with no further preamble. Rain snickers, looping his arms around Swiss' neck and nuzzling into his shoulder. He's warm and solid, comfy, and if the walk to the bathroom was more than ten steps Rain could very easily drift off again.

As it stands, he's being set down far too soon for his liking, letting out a squeak when his bare ass meets the cold marble of his vanity. Swiss kisses him on the forehead when Rain frowns once again, giving his stomach a little tickle just to make him squirm.

"You want it hot or scalding?" Swiss asks as he strides to the tub, steam wafting around him. Rain stares unabashedly at his ass, eyes tracing the obvious bite mark he left there the night before.

"Boil me like a lobster," Rain sighs, stretching his arms over his head and trilling at the way his spine pops. Swiss gives him a thumbs up, twisting the faucet knobs while Rain yawns. "How much salt did you put in?"

"Enough to make you smell like the greenhouse for a week," Swiss replies, testing the temperature and only hissing a little at the heat. Rain takes a deep breath, taking in the herbal steam and letting it soak into his skin. "Mount'll be all over you."

"Don't sound so jealous," Rain says with a sleepy tilt, scratching at his chest, "you can share me once in a while."

Swiss snorts as he wipes his hand on the bath mat, turning back with a lazy smile on his face. Rain blows him a kiss while he swings his feet, ankles crossed, and doesn't complain when Swiss crowds him closer to the mirror ar his back. Palms planted on the vanity so he can lean in and nose at Rain's temple.

"You assume I want to share," Swiss rumbles, possessive fangs grazing Rain's jaw. It gives him the shivers in the best way, but Swiss doesn't push further. He steps back so Rain can see the sparkle in his golden eyes, the wrinkles at their corners. He's beautiful, and if Rain were in a more giving mood he'd say so. As it stands...

"You can cope," he mumbles, nose in the air, and earns another eye roll. Rain sticks his tongue out at the other ghoul just because he can, reaching for his comb to try and work out some of the knots Swiss gifted him last night. Before he can grab it, though-

"Ah," Swiss interrupts, batting at Rain's hand. Rain raises a brow as Swiss picks up the comb instead, moving to stand in front of him again. "You're playing princess this morning, remember?" He twirls the comb between two fingers, the same motion he does when he steals Mountain's sticks. "Lemme take care of you like one."

Swiss offers a roguish wink, and while some part of Rain knows that an offer like this - especially from Swiss - always comes with caveats, he can't find it in himself to argue. Blame it on sleep deprivation (nine hours isn't nearly enough), but all he can do is hum and nod.

"If you insist," he yawns, leaning forward to rest his cheek gainst Swiss' pecs, "but don't be surprised if you put me back to sleep."

Swiss' laugh resonates through his skull, dull claws scratch at his scalp, and the purr that kicks up in Rain's chest when he begins to comb is one he has no control over.

Swiss talks to him while he works, picking out every tangle he can find. Talks about everything and nothing, from the places they'll be playing this next tour, to the fitting for their new uniforms. Rain hums where appropriate, but mostly he drifts. Basks in the scratch of Swiss' chest hair against his cheek and the care with which he fixes his hair. It can't take more than a few minutes, but it feels like forever in the best way.

"Alright," Swiss eventually murmurs, stroking delicate fingers through Rain's knot-free waves. A delightful feeling that could put Rain back to sleep all on its own. "Ready for the bath, your highness?"

Rain huffs out a soft laugh, nips at his chest just hard enough to make Swiss jump. He's woozy when he sits up, half present and more than a little floaty, so relaxed he may yet melt into the sink beside him. He yawns again, smacks his lips while Swiss twirls a curl around his finger.

"Mm," Rain hums with a bleary blink. He reaches up to sling both arms around Swiss' neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss. "Almost," he sighs against Swiss' mouth. The other ghoul pulls back, gives him a quizzical look. "Gotta pee first," Rain elaborates, shooing Swiss away. "C'mon, lemme up."

"Nah," Swiss replies, waving a hand, and it takes Rain a second to register it. He grins again, happy as a clam, and then he's hoisting Rain up by the backs of his thighs and all Rain can do is scrabble at his back with a yelp, clinging.

"What the -"

Before he can get the words out, Swiss is setting him down again, right in front of the toilet. Lets Rain get his feet under him, holding his hips until he's balanced, and then he's pressing a quick kiss to his horn. Rain blinks up at him, opens his mouth to speak, but then Swiss is turning him on the spot. Snuggling himself right up to Rain's back and hooking his chin over his shoulder, dragging the tip of his nose along the shell of his ear.

"As you wish," he croons, low, and Rain chuckles. Leans back into that broad chest and moves to aim at the bowl, eager to empty himself so he can finally slide into the herbal soup Swiss has so lovingly prepared.

Swiss grabs his wrist before he can manage it, though, and Rain just stares at it. Blinks. Swiss lifts his hand to his lips, kisses Rain's palm.

"Uh-uh," he breathes, warm against his skin, "I told you, sweetheart," another kiss, to the inside of Rain's wrist, "lemme take care of you."

Rain shivers at the feel of a large hand coming to rest low on his stomach, the one holding his wrist guiding in to rest over Swiss' own hand. Rain stares down at them, laces his fingers with Swiss', and heaves a deep sigh when Swiss' other hand slides over his hip. Tracing the line of his happy trail with two fingertips, until he reaches the soft swell of Rain's cock.

Swiss takes it in hand, aims, and Rain feels the strangest bloom of warmth in his chest.

"Go on," Swiss encourages, kissing the hinge of his jaw, "when you're done I'll even scrub your back."

"You'd do that anyway," Rain replies, and Swiss gives him a half shrug.

"A little incentive never hurts."

Rain snorts, but doesn't feel the need to argue. He takes in the way his cock looks in Swiss' hand, pale against his skin, nothing sexual about it regardless of their position. Of the way he can feel every inch of Swiss against his back, warm and comfortable and familiar. It's intimate, to be sure, but in a context Rain isn't sure he's ever felt before.

Rain offers a pleased sigh when the last drops hit the water, lets Swiss give it a couple shakes, and then he's turning in his arms. Planting a kiss on his stubbled chin.

He gives Swiss' hand a squeeze, presses it into his belly, and both of them groan when the first few dribbles leak out. It's no time before Rain can let go fully, a steady stream of relief, silly giggles escaping him when Swiss moves his dick around to draw shapes in the water. Swirls and circles and a their initials, because Swiss doesn't know how not to be a sap.

"Better?"

"Better," Rain smiles, wrapping long arms around Swiss' waist. "Now get me in that tub, I'm sick of being sticky."

Swiss laughs, gives him a squeeze, and this time Rain's expecting to be lifted.

"Such a princess," Swiss complains, lowering him into the steaming bath, and Rain groans. Swiss ruffles his hair, wasting no time in sliding into the tub behind him.

"Guess that makes you my prince," Rain mumbles, resting back against him the moment Swiss settles, and the pleased purr that rattles through his chest is almost enough to turn it into a jacuzzi.

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #a full fic actually but oh well #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #rain/swiss #rain x swiss #rulti #this is weird ngl #but have it anyway

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dreamscapesofimagination · 1 month

Text

I'll Say I Was Overthinking

A/N: Part 2 of the Alan drabble!

Summary: Being involved with anomalies was not conducive to peaceful dates, a fact that Alan laments when you are injured on his watch.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, cursing, body horror, fluff, Alan beating himself up as usual, kiss to shut someone up.

—------------

It had taken a couple weeks to get the R&R permit approved- and Alan had insisted that your first date not be on campus.

Maybe he was going overboard, but dinner and a movie off campus (and therefore away from a certain meddlesome vice-captain) was a must.

You weren’t complaining.

He had picked you up from your dorm, and you had nearly tripped over your feet at the sight of him in a nice button up and slacks- two things you were not sure he even owned (he didn’t- Tohma had insisted upon providing clothes once Kurosagi has let the date slip.)

He had complimented you, cheeks pink as he scratched the back of his neck.

Your dress was simple, nothing over the top, but you loved its fit and from his expression you could tell Alan had too.

Dinner had gone well, Alan slowly becoming more comfortable as the night went on- and you’d be lying if you said his smile didn’t make your heart flutter.

That's what crossed your mind when you both had rounded a corner, only to be faced with this.

Mottled flesh, an entirely too human face- too many teeth and a too wide smile.

You froze- heart pounding. You had ended up ahead of Alan as you chattered away about your excitement for the movie he had planned.

Far enough ahead that he was helpless as the anomaly smacked you aside.

“No!” his shout was futile as he watched your body hit the alley wall and crumple.

You lay there wheezing, brain slowly processing the scene.

Snippets.

Alan’s pipe appearing in his hand.

The anomaly making its way toward you.

Alan launching in front of you, blocking your body.

A horrible, mocking laugh.

Your vision swam, and as shock wore off you began to feel the deep pain in your body from where you had hit the wall, and you were faintly aware of the taste of blood and bile in your throat.

Alan was fighting it- but seemed to be doing little damage.

Groaning, you staggered to your feet, leaning over as you emptied the contents of your stomach.

Lurching forward, you gripped Alan's arm.

His eyes shot to you, “what are you doing?”

“Your stigma-” you coughed, wincing as a bolt of pain lanced your head, -”use it”

His eyes glanced over you, frowning in concern at your state.

“You can hardly stand!”

“And if I don’t help you we are both going to die! Stop arguing with me and just hit the fucking thing!” you snapped, gripping his arm harder to stabilize yourself.

The laughing anomaly lurched toward you both, interrupting his chance to argue further.

Alan adjusted his grip on the pipe, fixing the anomaly with a harsh glare.

He raised the pipe, bringing it down as the anomaly lunged, and you watched the creature's head give way beneath the iron.

It fell to the ground, and the resulting tremble caused you to stagger.

Alan caught you, shouting your name as your vision faded.

~~~•••~~~•••~~~

Quiet voices were the first thing you registered- along with the sterile smell.

Mortkranken’s infirmary.

“Like I said, you need to let someone examine you. She is stable- the last thing she needs right now is you collapsing because you had an injury and didn’t let us treat you. Taking more attention off of her than is necessary would be foolish, Mido.”

“I’m fine, regardless, I’m a ghoul. If something was wrong it’d be pretty damn clear.”

You cracked your eyes, wincing at the glare.

Alan swam into focus, glaring at Jiro, whose face was impassive.

Jiro’s arms were crossed, and the bags under his eyes were more defined than normal.

“Ghouls can still die, Mido.” Jiro left with that scathing retort before his eyes landed on you.

“You’re awake.” Alan’s head snapped around, and he quickly rushed forward.

“You okay?” his eyes were wild with concern.

You cracked a small smile, “I’ve been better.”

“Ah-hem.” You looked past Alan, and met Jiro’s gaze.

“Please let Jiro look you over?” you asked, bringing a hand up to grasp Alan’s for a moment.

His cheeks flushed at the contact.

“Can I do my job?” You giggled at Jiro’s mildly irritated tone.

“Go. I’ll be okay.”

Alan hesitated for a moment before nodding.

Jiro led him out from the curtained off “room” you were in.

You laid there, taking in the sounds of machines and the smell of alcohol.

You shifted, sitting up with a groan as you searched for water, throat scratchy.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Alan sounded panicked when he came back in to see you moving.

“I need some water.” you said, voice hoarse.

“I brought some,” Jiro entered behind Alan, carrying a cup.

He handed it to you, all but rolling his eyes at the Vagastrom captain.

“Your boyfriend is fine, from what the very limited exam he let me do showed.”

You could practically hear the eye roll in his voice.

“Is she going to be fine?” Alan snapped.

You sipped your water, relishing how soothing it was.

Jiro fixed Alan with a tired glare before directing his statement toward you, “You have a broken rib, concussion, and some nasty contusions, and hitting the wall dislocated your shoulder. I got the shoulder back in place, and your chest is wrapped to prevent your rib from moving too much. It will be awhile before you can function at your full capacity- even with the anomalous medicine we have.”

He cracked a small smile, “if you need anything, just call. You can go back to your dorm as long as you have someone who can keep an eye on you. And I will be coming by in the mornings to check on you.”

“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” Alan said quickly, carefully grasping your hand.

Jiro looked at him for a moment before nodding.

Fifteen minutes later, you were slowly staggering back to your dorm.

Alan’s arm was wrapped around you, and a bag of medical supplies was on his shoulder.

Silence passed between you- and you weren’t too disappointed due to the dull throb with every step and breath. You didn’t think you could manage words very well.

At your door, Alan froze.

You looked up at him, seeing the set of his jaw.

“Alan, what’s wrong?”

You watched a muscle feather.

“I shouldn’t be the one doing this.”

You frowned, turning to fully face him.

“What do you mean? If you don’t want to, that's fine, I can call Jiro and go back to the infirmary.”

Shaking his head, Alan said, “it’s my fault you got hurt. If I had been faster, more aware, then you would be okay. I’ll just make things worse.”

He avoided your eyes.

“This was a bad idea, it would be best for you to go to the infirmary so I don’t get you ki-”

A surprised grunt left him as you yanked him down by the collar and pressed your lips to his.

After a moment, the stiffness left Alan’s body, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you like you were porcelain as he finally reciprocated the kiss.

They broke away, and she was sure the flush on Alan’s face matched her own as he blinked owlishly at her.

“What- what was that for?” he stammered.

You giggled at his shell-shocked expression.

“Alan, I kissed you because I like you,” you cradled his cheek with your good hand, “I would not kiss you if I thought you got me hurt. Now will you please accept that it's not your fault so we can go inside and shower?”

His eyes widened even farther, “Like?”

You tilted your head before realizing what he meant.

“No! Not together- as incredibly attractive as I find you I think sex would kill me right now,” Alan stood straight, face and neck bright red.

Laughing, you said, “I will probably need your help though- if that’s okay?”

Alan cleared his throat, “I said I would take care of you, and I will.”

You blinked at the seriousness in his voice.

Alan was nothing if not committed, and you knew that if he was around you would be taken care of.

#tdb #tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker imagines #tdb imagines #tokyo debunker x reader #alan mido imagines #alan mido x reader #alan mido

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cissa-calls · 11 months

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Countdown to Coven of Chaos: Day 586

Wanda: “Where’s Agatha? She said we would watch a scary movie to celebrate Friday the 13th”

Y/N: “Maybe she got caught up with a ghost! Or a ghoul? Or a banshee shrieking about tragedy soon to come?! IS IT HER MOTHER???”

Wanda: “Sweetie, I think you’re getting too wrapped up in the spirit of the night. She’s probably just-“

Agatha, leaping from the shadows: “-LAMENTING EVANORA’S REVENGE”

Wanda and Y/N: *shrieking in terror*

Agatha: “Oooo did I scare ya?? I must have gotten you GOOD”

Wanda: “Agatha?! Why-“

Y/N: “-let me handle this one Wands.” *walks up to Agatha and leans in real close* “if you step outta line one more time Harkness, I will scratch your Stevie Nicks vinyl”

Agatha: “NO”

#Y/N SNAPPED and said TORTURE #also yes agatha loves Stevie nicks she’s literally the white witch #wandavision #agatha harkness #house of harkness #agatha all along #hahndavision #house of harkness counter #marvel #wanda maximoff #agatha harkness x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #coven of chaos counter #coven of chaos #incorrect marvel quotes #agatha: darkhold diaries #Darkhold diaries #Darkhold diaries counter

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thekidsfromyestergay · 1 year

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Idk who needs to hear this but. If you're drawing Frank don't draw the "red bars" (aka the rising sun flag) tattoo. If you're drawing or cosplaying fun ghoul do not add the motif to the back of the jacket. Do not lament the fact that it was covered, do not call it cool, do not use that visual under any circumstances, even outside of this specific fandom context. Articles on its meaning available here and here. Your "accuracy" is not more important than victims of imperialism.

#this is not a 'if youve ever done this even if you didnt know the history youre evil' post #this is just a psa to yknow. not do that again

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ramblingoak · 4 months

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A Few Scratches

Mushy May in Lucifer's Hollow: Day 18: Holding Hands

Copia x Aether

This fic is set in an alternate universe in a town called Lucifer's Hollow. It's sort of like a Satanic version of a Hallmark town. For Mushy May I'll be using the prompts to post little snippets of life for the humans and ghouls that live there 💙 Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together!

~ ~ In Lucifer's Hollow Copia teaches history at the high school and Aether is a firefighter. ~

Warnings: some whump here, mentions of injuries from a car accident, but it's mixed in with some mushiness, sfw, 960 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!)

The steady beep of the monitor was the most reassuring sound Aether had ever heard.

So was the feeling of Copia’s hand in his, the skin soft and warm. He hadn’t been able to let go since the doctors had let him in the room. Aether hoped Copia could feel it, he hoped that despite how scared he was still his presence was soothing in some way. He knew Copia was going to be fine despite the stitches on his forehead and the cast on his leg. The doctors had reassured him multiple times they were only keeping him overnight as a precaution but Aether still hadn’t been able to shake the fear that was making his chest feel tight.

It was different when it was someone you cared about, someone you loved. Aether cared for everyone in their town whether he knew them or not but Copia was different. Copia had quickly become everything to him and when he’d gotten the phone call from the hospital that afternoon it had felt like his entire world was crashing down around him. Without Secondo there he might not have made it to the hospital.

He dropped his head down onto the bed, taking deep breaths to try and relax. Copia shouldn’t be here. He should be at home singing to ABBA in their kitchen or in his office lamenting the essay writing skills of his students. Aether was never going to forgive himself for not driving him to work that day. His other hand clenched in the bed sheets and if it wasn’t for the calming hand on his shoulder he probably would have started tearing them up.

“This isn’t your fault.” Aether shook his head against the bed before sucking a breath in through his teeth and straightening up. Through the tears in his eyes he saw Secondo standing there, a cup of coffee in his hand. “Stop blaming yourself.”

“The only reason he was driving was because I locked my damn keys in my car.”

“Something we’ve all done before and something Copia has done many, many times.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that the one day I don’t take him to work this happens.”

“If you’re going to blame anyone you should blame that turista idiota. Accidents happen.” Aether didn’t respond so Secondo dropped a hand onto his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Especially to my fratellino, as you know.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, thinking back to the first few times he had met Copia. Both due to the man getting distracted and setting his kitchen on fire. Satanas, he loved this man so much. A sob escaped him and he leaned forward again, this time laying his head on Copia’s chest. Beside him Secondo was a silent sentry, one hand still resting reassuringly on his shoulder as he cried. Aether stayed that way until he began to feel fingers carding through his hair.

“Aether?” Copia’s voice was quiet but strong. When Aether lifted his head Copia’s hand fell from his hair and cupped his cheek instead. “Stai bene, tesoro?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He sniffled and scrubbed a hand over his face, grabbing Copia’s hand in his when he was done. “How are you doing?”

“Like someone ran a stop sign and destroyed my car.” Copia tried to sit up but immediately stopped, groaning as the movement jostled his leg. “And me.”

“Non essere un bambino, fratello.” Secondo smirked down at his little brother and took a sip of his coffee. “It’s just a few scratches.”

“Come closer and I’ll give you just a few scratches.”

“Cumulus has your car at her shop already. I’m sure it’ll be good as new soon.” Aether squeezed Copia’s hands, bringing one up so he could place a kiss on the back of it. “You on the other hand need lots of rest.”

A soft snore was his only answer so Aether let go of one of his hands, gently lowering it onto the bed. He adjusted Copia’s blankets, smoothing out the wrinkles as best he could.

“If he wakes up again, tell him I will check on his rats.” Aether looked up at Secondo and nodded, feeling incredibly thankful to have this man as not just his boss but his friend. The man gave him a stern look but Aether didn’t need to focus on his quintessence to feel the emotion behind it. “Follow his lead and get some rest.”

He nodded, watching Secondo leave the room and close the door quietly behind him. Copia was snoring softly, the pain meds thankfully doing their job. Aether fidgeted in his seat briefly before deciding he didn’t care if anyone got mad at him for what he was about to do. He let go of Copia’s hand long enough to untie his boots and then climbed onto the bed next to him, taking care to avoid jostling his leg and where Aether knew the bruises were.

When he was settled he took Copia’s hand again, smiling when he felt him squeeze it briefly. His tail moved on its own accord, wrapping around Copia’s leg and making the man snort in his sleep. Aether shushed him when his eyes blinked open and he mumbled something in Italian.

“Go back to sleep, love.”

“Mmm, don’t leave.”

“I won’t, I promise.” Aether kissed Copia’s cheek and then rested his head next to his on the pillow. “I’ll take care of you forever.”

“Forever, eh?” Copia yawned then, wincing when it bothered a small bruise on his cheek. “I like the sound of that.”

He was snoring again shortly after, his head turned slightly towards Aether’s. The ghoul couldn’t help but kiss the tip of the nose he loved so much before settling down again.

“Me too.”

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More fics in the Tales From Lucifer's Hollow masterpost

#copia x aether #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #tales from lucifer's hollow #mushy may 2024 #oakie's writing #nameless ghouls #copia fanfiction

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