Drunk Ghouls (Frostheim Part 1; Jin Kamurai and Tohma Ishibashi)
starting this off by saying THIS WAS SUPPOSED 2 BE LOW-EFFORT! A FEW PARAGRAPHS PER CHARACTER AT MOST! why do i do this 2 myself. note that these will probably vary in length per character bc i want 2 try. 2 keep it short. (update: i failed.)
woke up at 4:48am with a dry mouth thinking about haku nibbling my ear. anyways. that snowballed in2 this. enjoy.
a/n: also. side note that’s completely irrelevant but. im. so sick. of there not being enough words within language 2 express feelings i want 2 convey in my writing. does anyone else have that issue or am i just insane?? i complained about it 2 my therapist and she said “well. you know. you can make up words. shakespeare did and he really was ‘just some guy’.” and you know what. i might start fucking doing that. if some english white boy with black teeth and homosexual urges can make up words then so can i. i spent hours looking 4 a word that meant “to reluctantly pity someone/thing” but apparently that is a word that does not exist and im frustrated because saying “you felt reluctant pity towards [subject]” does NOT hit the same as “you felt [epic awesome word meaning ‘to reluctantly pity someone/thing’ here] towards [subject]”.
ok. im done. sorry.
summary: the ghouls are drunk. you are tasked with taking them back to their dorms.
cw: the ghouls are drunk!!!! some angst (?) in jin’s part, improper use of medication in tohma’s part, drunk ghouls, some fluff. never proofread, as usual. might be slightly ooc bc im never confident writing these ghouls and these are. unusual situations for them.
JIN:
Quite frankly, you don’t know what he was doing at Rui’s bar. And you don't care. You might be a little bitter that your initially relaxing evening got turned into yet another errand for the King of Frostheim. But, whatever. There was nothing you could do about it. If you didn’t bring the King back to his castle, who would?
He can hardly manage to support his own weight, so he's mostly leaning on you. You would've suggested he use his sword, but no chance were you going to let him swing that thing when he couldn’t even stand upright. He's quiet for most of the walk back. He'd occasionally groan in response to a killer headache, or gasp if he felt like he was going to vomit, but otherwise, he hardly made a sound. He kept his breathing even and his expression seemed quite flat. You wouldn't know he was drunk if he wasn’t tripping over the stone path and leaning his weight over you.
When you finally make it to Frostheim and into his bedroom, you haphazardly shove his limp body off your shoulder and onto his bed, on which he collapses without much complaint. You'd wanted to purposely ignore the state of his room so you wouldn't feel any semblance of pity towards him and reluctantly end up cleaning. You figure you could at least close his curtains so he isn't rudely awakened by the sun when it rises. But if you're being honest, you might want to leave them open so he gets his morning interrupted to rectify your interrupted evening.
Just as you’re about to head over to his curtains, you feel a hand close around your wrist. With an iron grip, Jin yanks you onto his bed. In moments, you find yourself wrapped up in his embrace, your cheek awkwardly pressed against his chest and your arms stiff at your sides, held there by his grip. You struggle, already aware that you don’t stand much of a chance, but protesting anyway. “Can you let me go?” Your words are unfortunately muffled with half of your face pressed into his chest. You don’t want to sound combative in the event he gets annoyed and you have to deal with annoyed drunk Jin instead of just drunk Jin, but you’re tired, it’s late, and you can hear the call of your bed in the chapel. It has never been more alluring.
Jin hugs you tighter to his chest in response, curling himself around you. You still, realizing that this may be a case where struggling will only make the “knot” tighter. “...No.” You feel his lips move against your hairline, making you shiver slightly. “Stay here.”
An order from the King is an order that you have the rare privilege of ignoring. You suppress your urge to struggle against his grip and use your words instead. “...I have classes in the morning.” The most basic excuse ever, but maybe he’d care about your education. “I’m still not well-versed in anomalies yet, and I only have so much time to learn—” Jin growls at the implication of the curse eventually ending your life, “—and I don’t want to fall behind.”
Jin is silent for a moment, and his grip loosens just slightly. It’s not enough to escape, but it allows you some wiggle room. You try not to move, remaining still. He appears deep in thought. If you play your cards right, maybe you’d get back to the chapel sooner than expected.
Unfortunately, luck is not on your side. Jin ends up pulling you closer, and you’re right back to square two, his body curled around you and you pressed against his front. “You will have time.” He speaks against your hairline again, his warm breath puffing against your forehead. You muse that you’re lucky you can’t smell the booze on his breath. You helplessly sigh, yielding to his grip and loosening your tight shoulders. You weren’t going to be free anytime soon. You’re submitting yourself to your fate when he adds “...I’ll hire you a tutor. Stay here.”
For a moment, his offer strikes you as thoughtful. But then you’re reminded that the reason you’re here is because he refuses to let you go, which isn’t very thoughtful. Regardless, with his arms cinched this tight around you, you couldn’t complain much for fear of him squeezing the life out of you a bit too early.
You grumble, but ultimately relent, unable to fight against his superhuman strength and his ability to solve all his (and your) problems with money. You lay there, not reciprocating his affection but not resisting it either, becoming less and less sure of how much time has passed. You wish you had access to your phone or something to keep you busy. You were too awake, pressed flush against the King of Frostheim, whose body temperature was quite warm from an entire evening drinking and whose light cologne was beginning to tickle your nose. You were overly warm, wiggling your nose to keep from sneezing, and craving your bed. This was becoming miserable.
Jin’s breathing slowly becomes even. You know it would be rash to assume he’s fallen asleep, but if he’s distracted enough, maybe you could slip away. As you start to move a little bit, trying to very gently shimmy yourself out of his grip, you hear him murmur something.
“Please…”
You freeze. Was he still awake? You can’t look up, still pressed to his chest and your head directly underneath his, but you can listen. You stay still, hoping by some miracle he falls back asleep. His breathing sounds uneven again and you can hear his heart loudly thumping against his ribcage.
“Just stay here with me… Just a little while longer…”
Something in you lurches suddenly. That’s right. The great Frostheim King has experienced a deep loss before. You weren’t there to witness his reaction when the news got out, but you had heard about it. The loss of a parent was something one tended to carry for the rest of their life, especially if they were close.
Idly, you wondered if he feared the rumors the news attempted to spread. His mother had succumbed to a hereditary illness. Did he fear that one day, he, too, would have to watch his world crumble around him, unable to make sense of anything anymore? Did he fear that his cognitive function would rot along with his ability to express emotion properly? Did he fear the loss of himself as much as he hated the loss of his mother? Did he see himself in that grave instead of his mother?
A begruding empathy fills you. You didn’t like how Jin called you “servant”. You didn’t like how Jin found it perfectly acceptable to order you around. You didn’t like how he would interrupt your routine simply because he believed his needs mattered more. And yet. Your thinking reminds you that he’s still human. You aren’t sure if it’s this fear that drives him, or if it’s what keeps him awake at night and makes him sleep through the day, but it’s still a fear, isn’t it? A real, reasonable fear. He’s still a human. A human who made a deal with a demon and proceeded to devour said demon, permanently changing him, but a human nonetheless. The fear was real and it was reflected in his heartbeat, still thumping loudly against his chest.
You sigh, relaxing into his grip again. Slowly, you lift one of your arms as best you can under his iron grip and place it on his side, minimally reciprocating his grip. Maybe some comfort would do him some good, even if lackluster.
He seems to relax into your touch almost immediately. You still aren’t sure if he’s awake or not, but his grip gets more comfortable, though not any less tight. You sigh again, considering this a half-victory at best.
As you relax into his chest, you note his heartbeat slowing down. His breathing slowly becomes even again. You don’t really want to smile at having successfully calmed down Jin himself, but you allow yourself a small curve to the corner of your lips.
Eventually, his steadily beating heart and even breathing lull you into a peaceful doze. At least with his head above yours, maybe he’d be the first to suffer the morning rays.
TOHMA:
Seeing Tohma drunk is like learning vampires were real. You’d never completely written off the possibility, but learning it’s a concept with genuine merit instead of a mere myth is more jarring than you’d expect. And lugging Tohma across campus back to Frostheim proves to be quite challenging. His days in Vagastrom were well-reflected in his crushing weight, and his particularly long legs made it hard to maneuver yourself and him simultaneously in a way that prevented either of you from toppling over. Next time, if this ever happens again, you’re getting a wagon. Lugging a long-legged beefcake across campus wasn’t doing wonders for your back.
He hardly makes any noise, and seems more uncomfortable than anything. He doesn’t resist your help, but squirms uncomfortably when you try to support him at his waist, and winces at any loud noise on campus. You wonder if something’s wrong with him, but can’t be bothered to pay too much attention when you’re already breaking your back trying to get him back to his dorm.
When you finally tumble inside his room at Frostheim, he shrugs himself off of you, cradling his head. You’re offended for a few moments at his lack of thanks, but you notice his stumbling beeline towards a pill bottle on his dresser. Time seems to slow as you recognize the medication. Alprazolam. The same medication Leo exposed Tohma for taking regularly. It takes a moment for the dots to connect, but once they do, a small surge of panic shoots down your spine. He probably shouldn’t be taking those, not after drinking alcohol.
“Tohma—”
Too late. He gulps a few down—dry, at that—and promptly shuffles over to his bed. He crumples onto it and eases himself onto his side, pressing his fingers into his temples, his face twisted into a pained expression. You groan inwardly.
You have half a mind to drag him off to Mortkranken to see Yuri—or Professor Nicolas, at worst—but your back hurts at the mere idea of that and you were sure Yuri would be less than happy to see another Frostheim student in need of treatment at his dorm. You watch him carefully, peering at his unmoving form. If you were lucky, maybe you wouldn’t need to. Ghouls heal quicker, and hopefully the effects of the alcohol would wear off faster. Regardless, you couldn’t leave him alone, lest he spontaneously stopped breathing due to the combined effects of the alcohol and the medication. So it looks like you’re stuck here for a while.
Tohma hardly seems to notice that you’re in the same room, and barely responds when you hesitantly seat yourself next to him. The smallest flicker of acknowledgement in his expression, and that’s it. His eyes are screwed shut, and his usual sardonic smile is long gone, replaced with a pained frown. Witnessing Tohma’s emotions clear on his face was an unusual sight, but you’re aware he can probably feel your gaze, so you turn away. You make sure to glance at him on occasion, ensuring his body still rises and falls with his breathing.
You aren’t sure how much time passes as you sit there, watching Tohma out of the corner of your eye. But after some time, he slowly relaxes, the tension melting from his expression and lifting from his shoulders. He gradually takes on a more relaxed position, moving his hands from his temples and blinking his eyes partially open, his lips slightly parted with light exhales. He doesn’t move much apart from that, still in a fetal-like position.
Trying not to disturb him too much, you lean over him just slightly, checking his complexion. His gaze slides over to you, though he makes no other move to acknowledge you. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem any paler than he usually is. His breathing has remained steady. You assume the Alprazolam kicked in at last, but it appears some of the alcohol is still in his system, what with the slight pink flush on his cheeks, and his bangs sticking to his forehead. You find yourself reaching out before you know it, but quickly retract your hand. Surely he’d be fine. Maybe you were overthinking it.
You turn away and breathe a sigh of relief. You’re readjusting your position, wondering if you should leave or not, when a gloved hand takes hold of yours. You turn to Tohma questioningly, but you don’t resist as he pulls your hand towards him. You freeze up when he places a chaste kiss to your knuckles, before the ghost of his usual, haunting smile reappears on his face. You pray internally that him kissing your knuckles wasn’t a sign of impaired judgement and rather an honest reaction. You’d prefer that over really having to drag him to Mortkranken. “Thank you for taking the time to look after me, Miss Inspector. I apologize that you have to see me in such a state.” Well, at least he doesn’t sound out of breath. That must be a good sign. And, finally, you’d got your thanks.
You simply shake your head, signaling to him not to worry about it. You stretch your hand in his grasp and press your thumb into the center of his forehead. As if on cue, the flimsy smile he put on melts away, replaced by a more neutral, calm expression. You think you might prefer him like this.
You can’t very well leave with his hand still around yours, but you aren’t actively complaining. You had already accepted you would be here a while. You yawn, feeling your own exhaustion catch up with you. You stretch, or at least, do the best you can with one of your hands held hostage.
Tohma speaks up again. “May I make a selfish request, Miss Inspector?”
You turn back towards him curiously. The look in his eyes is surprisingly earnest despite the lack of any active emotion twisting his face. You would think he was about to confess something serious, with the way his blue eyes seemed to zero in on you. “Yeah?”
He doesn’t respond immediately, instead pulling your hand closer to him again. For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss your knuckles again, and you stiffen, preparing yourself. However, Tohma flips your hand so your palm is facing up, and gently places his cheek within your palm. You look at him questioningly, not pulling away. You wonder if this is better or worse than simply receiving another kiss to your knuckles, because you’re honestly not sure. Any more signs of this and you might actually haul him to Mortkranken.
“I’m terribly sorry to be requesting so much of you. But if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you could stay with me tonight.” You’re partially caught off-guard by his bold question and partially wondering how he manages to maintain such eloquence when drunk and under the influence. You try not to let too much of a blush color your face, turning away from him slowly to make it look like you’re mulling the question over. The warmth of his cheek in your palm was surprisingly soothing. The weight of him was already becoming familiar. It was strange.
Well, not much point in resisting this, anyway. You’d already accepted you’d be here a while.
You sigh, tilting your head towards the ceiling before slowly leaning back and easing yourself onto his bed next to him, letting that be your answer. You think you feel the gentle press of lips against the corner of your palm, but you pretend to ignore it, even as your cheeks color.
If you both fell asleep like this, hopefully he’d still be breathing by morning.
if i made up new words using my limited knowledge of latin, french, and creole and put their definitions in my masterlist and used them in my writing would that be too much. am i crazy.
ok real quick: in case it wasn't like. glaringly obvious. tohma's written to have anxiety here. i know he claims to take those pills for headaches BUT i wouldn't be surprised if he has some level of anxiety.
OK ANYWAY i wrote these two fics bc i felt inspired. drunk ghouls. what might they do? kaito and luca will come out but i have no idea when. and then ill move on 2 vagastrom.
shameless note as per usual that i love likes, but especially comments, tagged reblogs, and asks detailing how much you liked my work! let me know if you enjoyed it!
songs i listened 2 while writing this:
here (in your arms) - hellogoodbye (cute song about falling in love and enjoying the time you spend with said person in their arms. felt fitting 2 the theme.)
anyway 僕に大切にされてね came on shuffle the other day and I immediately got brain worms so here’s what I think the ghouls would do if you’re over at their dorm late but have something on early the next morning.
How would they ask you to stay?
It’s 2am and you’re half-lying on his bed, wearing a spare set of his pajamas. His covers are pulled up to mid-thigh. The warmth of his body seeps through the bare inches of space between you.
You’ve been talking about your pasts and your futures, quiet conversation slipping around everything but the present until you reluctantly pull back slightly, and say, “I have to get up early tomorrow.”
He looks at you then, blinking like he hasn’t realised this moment would come to an end eventually.
His fingers brush yours under the covers.
Jin’s fingers curl loosely around your own. Don’t go, he says. There is no resonance of power behind his words, no ring of authority, just something soft, raw, open. He shifts himself closer, silk slipping on silk, so that he’s fully lying down next to you, and you feel the lightest of tickles as his bangs brush your forehead. His breath ghosts across your cheek. Stay.
Tohma stills. Of course, he murmurs. You’re busy. But you feel him shift his body anyway, rotating himself so he’s resting on his elbows, looking down and over at you. It takes most of your self-control to stop imagining what he would look like looming over you instead. But stay, won’t you? It’s a lot closer if you leave from Frostheim instead.
Kaito blinks again, then jerks his hand back. Ah, of course you’re busy! You’re the inspector, after all! You don’t miss the quick flash of disappointment before he beams at you again, all sunshine and bright in the cold of his room. He makes no move to get off the bed, though, and neither do you – you bite back a smile when he flashes a glance at you again, almost guilty. You sure you can’t stay?
Luca pulls away slightly. He was already a gentlemanly distance away from you on the bed, of course, but the silent shift backwards almost feels like a permission to leave. Before you can swing your feet off the bed, however, his fingers curl around your wrist. I do wish you could stay.
Alan sits up. His grey sleep shirt is wrinkled from where he was slouched against his pillows, half-turned towards you as you talked. He shifts his hand from where it is burning in gentle touch against yours, and runs it through his hair instead. I’ll walk you back, he says, gruffly, but neither of you move from under the warmth of his covers. Neither of you want to.
Leo snorts. Cancel, he suggests, blithely. What can be so important that you’d have to leave this early? What can be so important that you’d have to leave his side? He hooks his pinky into yours. You’re already wearing my pajamas. You can use my bathtub if you need to shower later. You can borrow a uniform from me tomorrow if you need to. What for go back to your crappy old dorm?
Sho frowns. He takes your hand in his own, thumb brushing over the top of your knuckles. What do you have on? When you tell him, he tugs you closer to him, making you roll onto your side so your faces are barely inches away from each other’s. That sounds stupid, he murmurs. His eyes flicker away from your lips. Tell you what, if you stay, I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow. Deal?
Haru groans and throws his head back. Don’t remind me, he mumbles to the ceiling. You see his mental to-do list slowly getting longer as he comes back down to reality, cataloguing all the tasks around Jabberwock yet to be finished, but he suddenly looks over at you. His hand brushes yours again, almost shy in the way it lingers. I can wake you up at sunrise. Stay the night?
Towa pouts immediately, and rolls over so quickly he almost flattens you underneath him. His arms snake around you as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. He smells like earth, like rain, like the way flowers kiss the ground as they wilt. Don’t leave, Dandelion. His arms tighten around you. Don’t go.
Ren frowns, and suddenly the warmth of his hand milimetres away from yours disappears. He crosses his arms tightly, looking out the window. Is it that Vagastrom mission? he says. There is something in his voice you can’t place, but his face is turned too far from you for you to figure it out. Just leave early tomorrow, what’s the big deal?
Taiga blinks, and there is a dip on his side of the bed before you feel his head resting on your shoulder. My, my, kitty-cat, he drawls. He intertwines his fingers with yours, turning your hand this way and that. Trying to escape me early? He knows you’d never, but he turns to press his nose to your shoulder. Bet they’ll text you tomorrow morning to cancel, anyway.
Romeo huffs. What for? then, That’s stupid, when you tell him. You can’t read his facial expression from under the pale white clay mask he has on, but the warning look that flashes in his eyes is full of affectionate disdain. Go late, he tells you, then waves off your protest. We still have sheet masks to do after this, or your skin is going to crack and you’re going to waste all my effort–
Ritsu nods, and you see him blink away the dredges of drowsiness from the corner of his eyes before he turns to you. It’s late, he agrees, voice soft, raw. His hand does not move from where it is frozen against yours, touch melting against your fingers in hope that you will not notice. Perhaps… perhaps next time we can schedule this for when we have nothing on the next day.
Subaru starts. Of course, he says, and bows his head. I’m sorry to have kept you so late– The warmth of dim lamp light frames the smooth of his cheek, the curve of his fringe, but does nothing to hide the way his eyes soften when you assure him that no, you did want to stay for as long as you did, you want to stay longer, in fact– Stay, then, he murmurs, sudden and fierce. Please.
Haku laughs, warm and low. What for? When you tell him he just hums. I’ll walk you there tomorrow. His fingers brush against yours again, then curl around your own, steady, sure. When you look over at him his eyes glow gold in the gentle leftover of moonlight that has diffused through the rain and spilled in through his screen door. It wraps you in starlight, in muted resin, in the irresistible want to have this moment with him last forever. It’s late, princess, he says, softly. His lips brush your ear as he leans in. Stay with me.
Zenji makes a noise of surprise, eyes flickering out the window of the cathedral to look at the moon. Oh, of course, my dear, he exclaims, and hovers slightly above your bed. I completely lost track of time, it was so entrancing just talking to you… He worries noisily after you and your schedule for a moment before he pauses, wringing the doll between his hands. If you don’t mind… can I… can I stay?
Ed yawns and stretches. You humans and your schedules. You’re always so busy with things so insignificant… He leans over, gazing at you through half-lidded eyes. His pale face is lit only by the cold white of his iPad screen, now left forgotten in the space between you. He searches your face for a moment, before saying, Wouldn’t you rather stay with me?
Rui jerks back, then forces a chuckle. Sorry I lost track of time, you know I don’t really sleep… You bite your lip. The warmth of his hand, even if it was through the blanket and his glove, felt so real, so– Rui extracts himself from under the blanket. The laugh he gives you as he shifts away is pained, almost, but hopeful. It’s a long walk back from Obscuary to your dorm, though. We’ve got so many guests rooms… Stay, won’t you?
Lyca scrunches his nose. Fine– he starts to say, but stops. He glances at you, almost shy, before his eyes dart back to the soft of his covers. You watch him twist the blanket between his fingers for a moment before he grumbles, still not looking at you, What do you have so early, anyway? Just ask that blonde gigolo to do it for you.
Yuri sniffs. He sneaks a glance at you, almost as if he is calculating how much you mean it, how probable it is that you’d leave his side. Walking back to the health hazard you call a cathedral will take far too long and take too much of your precious sleep time, he decides, then shifts so the flush climbing up his ears is nearly completely submerged under his own covers. Stay, he huffs, and shuts his eyes tight. Goodnight.
Jiro glances over at you. And? He watches impassively as you try to explain that you have to leave now so you’d get enough sleep, before a small smile creeps up his lips. His pinky brushes yours again, a little less accidental, a little more warm. You can just stay in Mortkranken, he says. We’ll just wake up earlier tomorrow to make up for it.
first time trying this hc format 0: kinda like the prose this time ngl lmk what u think!
In regards of the Trump government scraping all trans inclusion in its queer information portion of its websites I have made this thing. Spread the word. Don't let them pretend we never existed.
Does anyone else remember when Elon was like "if anyone knows how to end world hunger for 6 billion USD, I'll fund it" and UNICEF was like "we're going to spend a month to make a plan to end world hunger for 6 billion USD and Elon is going to fund it" and Elon was like "actually, nah" and then bought Twitter instead?
I think that was one of the worst things I'll ever see in my life.
I still think that should be the thing for which he's the most famous. It should be brought up every time he's mentioned. In any news article, any interview, any history book. "Elon Musk, who was offered a chance to end world hunger and turned it down." Put it on his fucking gravestone.
"Mister Zhongli broke out in quiet laughter, immediately covering his own mouth and curling in on himself slightly, turning away from him as his shoulders shook and he struggled (and failed) to keep it all in.
Ajax stared, winded and stupid, his chest suffused with warmth as the man tried to reel in his fit. As he uncurled from himself, the strangled laughter escaping in breathy, giggly snickers. As he seemed to force his shoulders to stop shaking, straightening up, angling himself more back towards facing Ajax like before.
As the laughter subdued, reduced to hiccup-y chuckles, his eyes closed in crescent moon shapes as his hand holding the little leaf remained against his lips, in a regal press of his knuckles now instead of the instinctual palm that flew up before."
CAN WE PLEASE HAVE A DRAWING OF THAT?? I LOVE THEM SO MUCH TWT
one drawing was not enough my brainworms needed most of the sequence
yousharknotpass
origamiaround
2087
kianamaiart
stormborns
areudirty
