#ngl i wrote this with my dear husband in mind who said he loves enemies dew/aeon haha

[ghoulangerlee]

Mushy May 9 - warming them up

Aeon and Dew navigating the beginnings of their relationship - this is set somewhat shortly after Aeon takes Aether's place in the band. As per usual, my Aeon is pre-summoned, works between the grounds and the infirmary and was hand picked by Aether himself to take his place.

this was a last minute thing so aldkjf please enjoy? <3 special thanks to @forlorn-crows for putting this together. I was too shy to join in on the fun last year.

-

Aeon's hands are a strange amalgamation of warm and cold; his fingertips frigid like ice while his palms get tacky with sweat.

He thinks its mostly to do with his dual lineage; earth and quintessence.

It had never been much of an issue before joining the Ghost project full time; his hands spent most of the time buried in dirt in the gardens or sorting through tools and packaged first aid products in the infirmary.

Playing guitar, by extension, sometimes kept his fingertips from going icy, somewhat numb with it—but it wasn't an all the time thing, he thought, maybe when they'd start the tour, playing outdoors in the sun, he wouldn't have to worry about it, but in the somewhat frigid practice rooms at the church—

"Aeon," Dew's voice is sharp, cuts through his thoughts as he hits another sour chord, "Pay attention, we're trying to get through a new song," he says, trying for patience but coming across a bit mean instead.

Aeon's good at compartmentalizing, mostly, he had to be in the pits, and it's carried over through his summoning and his duties at the church, so when he catches Dew's tone, somewhat annoyed at him, he turns and looks at the fire ghoul, curls his fingers around the neck of his guitar, "Fingers are cold," he says, "Hard to feel where I need to go if I can't feel anything," he shoots back, somewhat snippy.

It's been building between them, since Aether's announcement and him bringing Aeon aboard—he'd searched him out before he'd actually told anyone about his plans, offered up his place and well, Aeon had always loved music, so why wouldn't he take the opportunity?

Dew had been mostly unhappy about it, he wasn't outward about his dislike most of the time, but he made it known in other ways—but again, Aeon had picked up on it after a couple of times, Dew's unhappiness.

He'd even asked about it, but Dew had just waved him off, said something bullshit about creative differences—whatever that meant, and continued on with this somewhat one sided feud.

And well, Aeon hadn't been trying to replace anyone. He'd made it very clear at the beginning, that Aether had asked him to step in, this wasn't Aeon shoving Aether out of the spotlight.

Dew's eyes dart from Aeon's face down to his hands, the dusky color of his skin not giving away the tingling coldness in his fingertips, before Dew's lips curl up into something unpleasant, just as his eyes do something complicated that Aeon can't quite place.

Silences stretches over the practice room, the others had sort of shuffled off to the side, watching carefully, making sure there wasn't anything bad happening, but for the most part keeping out of it, trusting the two of them to deal with their shit in a decent manner.

And then, Dew finally sighs and pulls his guitar off, moving across the room to place it down carefully, "Let's take a break now. Reconvene in about fifteen minutes," he says, his voice tired, so tired.

Aeon removes his guitar as well, placing it down with care—it had been Aether's, one of his spares, a rush of magic woven into the strings, a good luck charm for him, and he rubs his hands together, moving to go take a seat on the low stage, letting his legs dangle off of it.

The others clear out, though Aeon can see that Swiss stops by Dew, leaning down to speak into his ear, but when Dew's eyes go hard, Aeon focuses on something else, rubbing at the tips of his fingers individually to try and coax warmth from his palms back up into the stiff joints.

"The coldness is part of your nature," Dew says, stilted and jerky, he's standing just in front of where Aeon's sitting now, arms crossed over his chest, "Quintessence, right? Aether said you were half that at least, probably why it's just your fingers that get the worst of it."

Aeon watches him warily, flexes his fingers a bit, though the feeling doesn't seem to come back any, "Just my fingers," he says, "Sometimes my elbows and knees, but moving around helps keep that from happening," His fingers stop for a moment, and he tilts his head, "What is your problem with me."

A pinched expression takes over Dew's face again, his brows furrowing a bit, "Change this close to a tour has me on the edge," he says, it's robotic and somewhat a lie and he can tell the exact moment that Aeon sees through it.

"I'm not trying to replace Aether," he says, "I'm not trying to step in and step on anyone's toes. I'm just here to play some music for the band and for Papa. I'm doing Aether a favor while he takes some time away." He presses his lips together, "Whatever is going on with the two of you, I'm not going to be an outlet for your anger. Not if we're supposed to work together."

Dew makes a somewhat frustrated noise and rubs both of his hands over his face, "There's no fight," he says, "I'm dealing with this, whatever it is, but Aether and I have been on stage for many, many years and this will be the first time that—"

He breaks off, but Aeon knows where he's going with it, can smell the way his scent sort of goes sad, at the prospect of leaving behind someone so important, "Ah," he says, trying to tread carefully, "I don't think taking out your...misplaced feelings on me is how to get over it though?"

He's always been blunt, but even he winces at how blunt he sounds, the words slipping out before he can stop them and he expects a push back, for the sadness to bloom into anger, but Dew just snorts softly, amused.

"The mouth on you," he says after a moment, shaking his head, "But, as much as it pains me to admit, you're right." he moves closer, sits down on the stage beside Aeon—there's space between them, and Aeon feels a bit on the edge.

"Can I?" Dew asks, holding his hands out expectantly, wiggling his fingers towards Aeon's hands, "I'm not going to bite, even if my previous attitude says different."

Warily, Aeon offers one hand as a sort of peace offering and Dew just snorts, grabbing at his wrist and tugging it closer—there's a brief rush of brimstone before the warm tips of Dew's fingers make contact with Aeon's cold skin; almost instantly, warmth seeps into him.

"Oh," Aeon says, looking down at where Dew's got their hands in front of him, each fingertip pressed together as he gently pours magic into him, "Neat trick."

"Aether gets cold hands too, not just his fingertips, so I guess you might be a little lucky you don't have to deal with the whole thing, but we figured this out shortly after my transition. Fire magic heats up quicker and neutralizes the quintessence that causes the cutoff." Dew says, his voice low and slow, almost like he's lost in thought.

"So its a magic thing?" Aeon asks, he's offering up another olive branch, another token of peace, "Is there a way to uh. Help? Other than the fire."

Dew shrugs and lets go of Aeon's wrist slowly, allowing the other ghoul to pull his hand back, easily offering up the other one, "Might have to ask Aether. You're used to using mostly earth magic, right? That's what I can smell on you. Maybe if you give your quintessence an outlet more, it'll gather up in your joints less."

Aeon hisses at the rush of heat into his cold fingertips, shoulders sinking as he relaxes into it; "I'll talk to him," he mumbles, "Not too good at the quintessence stuff, but I suppose I could try it out." He hums, wiggles his newly warmed fingers. "Thank you."

Dew looks up from where he'd been focused on Aeon's hand, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"For warming me up," he says, rolling his eyes, "And I guess, for finally talking to me about the shit in your head." He nudges his knee into Dew's, "I know I'm not Aether, but I'd hope that my time in the band could be something fond to look back on one day too?"

"Oh," Dew says, licks his lips, seemingly out of words, "I, yeah. I think so. I think we can create something good with this."

The answer comes out a little weird, but Aeon feels Dew's fingertips press tighter against his own and Dew's knee come to rest against him and it sort of dawns on Aeon then, a secretive sort of smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he presses his knee back into Dew's, a hesitant step towards a new beginning.

[sapnapsdummy]

— first burn

pairing: fundy/dream

genre: angst w/ no happy ending

warning(s): swearing, cheating, usage of fire to burn things

summary: when dream cheats, fundy decides that enough is enough.

note: lmao fundy angst is my favorite ngl,, this is also posted on ao3 !! this is based off of first burn from hamilton so i suggest you listen to that while you read !!

the cool night air slowly crept into the room as fundy opened the window. a small sigh left him as he gazed up at the night sky, goosebumps making their way up his arms. he stayed like that for a moment or two, allowing himself to pretend that what happened didn’t happen and that it was just like any other night. any other night, fundy would have made sure the children ate, put them to bed, and wait for dream to get home from work.

except, it wasn’t like any other night.

tonight, it was dream who was putting the children to bed.

and fundy?

fundy was trying to figure out how he was supposed to go on about this, after all, there isn’t really a step by step manual on what to do when your husband decides to tell the whole world about the affair he had behind your back.

especially when he told the whole world before he even uttered a single word about it to you.

fundy blinked away tears as he turned away from the window, looking around the bedroom that had once brought him a feeling of warmth and secureness, now nothing but a constant reminder of what occurred when he was not there.

the bed that he used to collapse onto after a long day, relishing in the smell of his husband’s cologne, the same bed he and his husband had spent some nights reading bedtime stories to the children on, was now just the place his husband took that wench onto and did… things.

it no longer brought back fond memories, only feelings of bitterness, humiliation, and anger.

so much anger.

as he thought about it, fundy grew more and more emotional. emotions of every sort were hitting him one after the other, like truck after truck was just ramming into his body, pushing him further and further towards the edge.

how could he? was fundy not good enough? had he not been a loving enough husband? he tried his hardest to make dream happy, he really did. he kept the house clean, made sure there was always a homemade hot meal on the table when he got home, spoke very highly of him when people asked and yet, he picked him.

he picked george.

what did george have that he didn’t?

hot tears were now streaming down fundy’s face, feeling like small droplets of lava on his skin.

he was so tired of crying, so so tired.

fundy bit his lip as a thought crossed his mind, debating on whether or not it was a good idea. he didn’t want to throw a temper tantrum. he didn’t want to act childishly. he had to be the bigger person here. he didn’t want to act like dre-

“snap out of it, fundy! you have the right to react however you want!” he whispered to himself, making his way over to the bed that now disgusted him so much. the floorboards creaked underneath him as he crouched down next to it, reaching under the bed and slide a box out from underneath.

the contents of the box rattled as he picked up and set it on the small ottoman that sat at the foot of the bed. picking up that box had always made fundy feel as he did when dream had first started courting him. he used to feel so free, so in love with the man he called his husband. now, however, all he felt was deep dread and hurt.

fundy’s heart clenched as he slowly opened the box, a choked up sob escaping his mouth. countless letter accompanied with various things like pictures and keepsakes sat in the box, stacked into neat piles. fundy’s throat seemed to be closing up, his breathing becoming more and more ragged the longer he stared at the contents of the box.

“no,’ he thought to himself, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a few deep breaths, “i can do this. i need to do this. i have to do this.”

fundy shakily set the lid of the box down next to it, rapidly blinking to prevent any tears from slipping out his eyes. he sat still for a moment, just gazing into the box. he clenched and unclenched his hands a few times before hesitantly picking up the envelope on the top of the pile.

he turned it over, examining dream’s handwriting, reading the address over and over. it read the address of his father’s home, where fundy had spent this past summer with the children. the same summer dream had done what he did with him. with george.

fundy wrinkled his nose in disgust, thinking about the way his heart had leaped when he saw that letter arrive.

how naive of him.

with a few quick deep breaths, fundy slipped the actual letter out of the envelope and set the envelope on the table. he bit his lip before finally opening the folded piece of paper and reading it.

my dearest, fundy,

oh how i wish i could’ve ran away with you and the kids for the summer. i miss you all so much but, as you know, duty calls. how’s grayson? is he still bullying toby and tommy? are those two still holding hands all hours of the day? how are you, my love? are you getting along okay? i miss you so so much, my dear fundy. i cannot wait for your return with the children next week. i’ve written you twice since i last saw you and with every letter, my heart becomes heavier and heavier. i love you very much, trust that i am longing for the man i call my husband. adieu, best of husbands and best fo men. embrace all my darling children for me.

ever yours, dream

fundy swore he felt bile creep its way up his throat before he swallowed. the tears that he thought he was able to stop for now were now flowing freely, pulling a few broken sobs out of fundy.

he slammed the letter on the table and stood up, going straight to the small trash can in the corner of the room. he hurriedly dragged it over to the table before plopping back down in the spot he was sat in previously.

he sat there for a single moment, letting himself feel the hurt, anguish and just downright betrayal before he grabbed the letter along with the envelope and held it over the candle on the table.

the flame caught the paper within seconds and fundy let out a small sigh as he watched the letter that he had once cherished so much, burn to nothing but ashes.

before the flame could burn his hand, he let the burn piece of paper drop into the empty tin bucket, watching it burn before he turned back to the box.

repeating the process, fundy picked up another envelope. he examined it, opened it, read the letter, then burned it, dropping all of it into the trash can.

it all brought him a strange feeling of contentment and relief.

that feeling, however, was quickly yanked away from him as his husband entered the room.

“the children are asleep for now, the twins kept asking for you- what- fundy what are you.. what are you doing?” dream asks, stopping a few yards away from the table fundy was sat at.

fundy stayed quiet for a bit, still reading the letters and burning them, before looking up at the man.

“you know, i saved every single letter you wrote me. from the very first one all the way to the one i received before the end of summer. from the moment i saw you, i knew you were mine, you said you were mine, you said you were mine, and i really thought you were mine.” fundy mumbled quietly, lighting yet another letter on fire.

dream stayed quiet, opening his mouth to speak a few times only to shut it, choosing to stay quiet. he didn’t know what to say, he didn’t want to hurt fundy any more than he had already.

“do you know what alex said when i told him what you’d done?” fundy asks, humming when his husband shook his head, “he said, “you’ve married an icarus, he has flown too close to the sun.””

dream blinked back the anxious tears that pushed at the back of his eyes and went to take a step forward, intending on trying to console the man he had hurt, only to be interrupted by fundy again.

“don’t,” fundy said sternly, putting a hand up, “take another step in my direction, i can’t be trusted around you. don’t think you can talk your way back in my arms, clay.”

clay.

fundy never called him by his name.

he had only done so once before.

on their wedding day, during their vows.

“i’m burning the letters you wrote me, as i’m sure you’ve noticed. you can stand over there, if you want.” fundy whispered, waving in the direction of the bed as he resumed reading and burning the letters.

“f-fundy, please, just let me-”

dream, again, was cut off by fundy.

fundy puffed out a small laugh, the letter in his hands crumpling as his grip on the piece of paper tightened out of anger.

“i truly don’t even know who you are anymore, clay. i have so much to learn, nut for now, i’m rereading your letters,” he holds a small stack of 4 letters he had just read over the flame, watching the ember lick at the aged paper, “ and watching them burn.”

“fundy, seriously, i’m so sorry! i shouldn’t have done it and i should’ve told you myself! i just.. i just wasn’t thinking right, they were accusing me of fraud and-”

“you published the letters he wrote you. you told the whole world how you brought this man into our bed, in clearing your name, you have ruined our lives, clay! how do you not get that?!” fundy screamed, slamming his hands on the table.

fundy got up, almost laughing quietly to himself.

“i.. i had to! they were accusing me of fraud and-”

“heaven forbid someone whisper “he’s a part of some scheme,”” fundy yells, “your enemy whispers, so you have to scream!” fundy yells, getting closer and closer to dream with every word.

dream subconsciously took a step back, almost as if he were scared of his husband. he wasn’t, he was sure he wasn't, but fundy was.. different now. fundy laughed an empty laugh, gripping his ears, tugging them in frustration.

“w-wait- don’t do that- your ears are sensi-”

“shut up.”

fundy grinded his teeth together, finally meeting dream’s eyes again.

“i know about the whispers, and believe me, i see how you look at sapnap.”

dream fell silent.

he reached to grab his husband’s hand, flinching as fundy snatched his hand away from him.

“don’t! i’m not naive, i have seen men and women around you. don’t think i don’t see how they fall for each and every one of your charms,” fundy yelled, biting his lip as his voice lowered to a small whisper, “they fell.. they fell just like i did.”

dream felt sick to his stomach. he felt as if his insides were twisting and turning, his hands becoming shaky and clammy.

“you’ve practically thrown it all away, clay!” fundy screamed, stomping back over to where he was, picking up a large stack of letters as holding it over the fire, dropping them into the trashcan.

“now you get to watch it all burn!”

a few tears fell down dream’s face, his knees feeling weak.

this is what he had done. this was his doing. this was the result of his selfish acts.

“and when the time comes, explain to the children the pain and embarrassment you put their father through! fuck, clay, when will you learn? they are your legacy, we are your legacy!”

with tears blurring his vision and the need to spite dream fueling his anger, fundy became careless as he set letter after letter on fire, not even bothering to read any at this point. his carelessness quickly lead to his sleeve catching fire, pulling a gasp from the both of them.

“fuck, fundy, hold on!”

dream quickly grabbed a nearby vase, pulling the flowers out of it. he quickly moved towards his husband, going to throw the water on his whimpering form, but stopped when fundy put his good arm out in front of him.

“don’t.. don’t give me your pity water!” fundy yelled, wincing as he quickly ran to the bathroom attached to the bedroom.

he soaked half his shirt as he shoved his arm under the tap, shivering at the feeling of the ice cold water.

dream was gobsmacked, watching as fundy quickly changed his shirt, roughly wiping away the tears that started flowing again involuntarily.

he looked at dream, making eye contact with him for a second. a soft look flashed through his eyes before he squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling calmly.

fundy calmly walked passed dream, not sparing him another glance.

“if you thought you were mine.. don’t.” fundy said before leaving the room.

leaving dream by himself.