#abbey lost and found

[mancer-in-the-abbey]

This thought has been rotating this in my, MODERN GHOULS (plus Aether) AND HOW THEY ACT IN A FIGHT LETS GO

Dewdrop: Strike hard, strike fast, don’t get hit, that’s the motto. In a brawl scenario he is the first to hit under the belt, dude LOVES to fight dirty and he’s hella resourceful. He doesn’t take hits as well as he used to before the elemental transition, but he’s been working on increasing his speed to make up for it. You cannot and will not see him coming if he decides to deal the first hit, Prefers hand-to-hand (claw-to-claw?) combat over ranged fighting or straight elemental fighting due to a harder time accessing his fire power, but when he does MANNN is it a DELUGE of fire. The whole house is burning down.

Aether: In a brawl scenario, being as big and physically strong as he is makes him excel at disbanding/de-escalating. Aether is really good at taking a punch and being just completely unfazed by it, which is useful in getting people acting a fool to knock it off. If it’s real life or death, though? Ohhhh buddy you done fucked up the minute you messed with the guy who stitches people back together with magic on the regular. If he can do that, how easy do you think it is for him to UN-stitch someone? He doesn’t even need to raise a fist for you to be done for.

Phantom: Phantom, I think, is flight over fight in most ways. If someone wants to start something, he just goes invisible and nopes out of there. Having said that, if he IS stuck in a fight, is the KING of improv. Where Dew can walk into a room and come up with 10 different ways the objects in it can kill a man, Phantom can be handed an object, ANY object, and he will make it work. Not necessarily out of skill, but just sheer blind panic and the need to arm himself. Real scrappy, that ghoul… he has thrown a knife at a toaster for going off too loud and scaring him.

Rain: Rain has VERY good control over his element. If he has a choice between fighting on land a fighting in or near water, he’s taking the water option. That said, water is slightly harder to come by in everyday life unless one is just constantly carrying a bottle of water with them at all times. That is, unless you want to burst the water pipes of a building, which he HAS done once by accident and it was VERY expensive to fix. Anyway, lucky for him Rain does tend to just carry water on him anyway. Man needs to be hydrated, and it also functions as his built in self-defense. You trying to fight? Get geysered with a Stanley Cup, idiot. Assuming water ISN’T an option at all, though, Rain is a biter. You will lose a finger and he will tell you what hot sauce he’d pair you with after. Just for the extra psychic damage.

Swiss: Call my man Rocky the way he didn’t hear no bell, Swiss is RELENTLESS. Stamina in fucking SPADES, it don’t matter how many hits he takes, he will Not! Go! Down! Him and Phantom are similar in that they’re both survivors by any means necessary. In Phant’s case, it made him the master of Ending Situations Fast. In Swiss’s, though, it’s made him durable as an anvil and persistent as a lion. Combine that with whatever element is closest at hand and he’s a force to be reckoned with. And if he has the time to get really creative with his elemental powers? Buddy, you are not leaving that fight the same man you came in, if you leave at all.

Cirrus: Girl was a brawler back in the pit, so to me fighting as a way of life followed her onto the surface. Every bit of her is a weapon. Her hands? Weapons. Her arms? Weapons. Legs? Weapons. Face? Weapon. She is so light on her feet, you will not be able to land a single hit on her. She can blow you off-balance or keep you at arms length, always giving her the upper hand in confrontations. She also knows how to handle actual weapons really well. It’s a hobby of hers, swords are her favorite for sheer cool factor but give that woman a quarterstaff and she will go to WORK.

Cumulus: That is a woman who has a mean, right hook, I just know it in my bones. She enjoys learning self-defense from Cirrus, though more for the exercise than the fighting capability. Cumulus, like Aether, is more a lover than a fighter. However, should the need arise, she is more than capable of stopping a brawl in its tracks. You wanna throw hands? Bam! Sudden atmospheric pressure migraine! What are you gonna do now, idiot? It’s a good way to get all parties involved to scatter fast, leaving her with a quiet evening to herself.

Aurora: Ranged! Fighting! Queen! Someone let her watch Hunger Games and she has been perfecting how to hurt people from a distance ever since. Her aim started out shaky but has gotten SCARY good, she can hit you in the head with a fastball special from a sports field away. Also, she uses her Quintessence powers to manipulate light. Usually this is just for doing cool tricks and making the space look pretty, but she WILL flash-bang you if provoked.

Mountain: Don’t. Just don’t! Mountain may be a gentle giant these days but he wasn’t always. If you like your bones where they are, just don’t fucking bother! He will avoid conflict if it is at all possible, but if he thinks you might be an actual threat to his family, there is nowhere on the continent you will be safe!



[sophiasharp]

Swiss: *enters the kitchen at 2am for some water*

Dew and Mountain, both hunched over a pack of Kraft singles like it’s an animal carcass:

Swiss: … *slowly walks back into his own room*

[ghostchems]

hello my darling. i see your requests are back open… 👀 i've got a prompt for you if you so wish to write it… reader has been dead for decades, aimlessly wandering the halls of the ministry where no one has ever seen her, heard her or even felt her… until one day, she's walking (or y'know… floating…) through the halls and someone is walking towards her. He stops in his tracks and stares straight ahead. Then she realises…

he's staring at her… Choose a papa, any papa! Whoever you would like to write, if you choose to write it! 😘

a/n: almost 1k words of some sweetness. after reading the prompt i KNEW i had to pick Cardinal Copia 🥹 bee. thank you SO much for sending this in. hit me right in the dang feels

Loneliness has driven you to the busy corridors of the Abbey. Despite the clergy members quite literally seeing right through you, their presence around you is enough to alleviate the void inside you. You’ve had to make do over the decades but even after all of the disappointment there is still an unwavering flicker of hope that you’ll make some sort of contact. Who knew it would be impossible for a ghost to be noticed in a Satanic Ministry? Many attempts have been made, ranging from morose to macabre (floating candles vs. severed limbs) but to no avail. Perhaps there’s something wrong with you. Is your spirit not dark enough to be seen? You remember how you died and decide that can’t be the case.

You gave everything for The Olde One. The Ministry was a very different place back then.

You’re lost in the endless abyss of your thoughts until there’s a shift in energy around you. Something new. Someone new. The wisps of your ghostly train curl towards the ceiling behind you and gust of warm air blows your hair out of your face.

Oooh. A Cardinal. It’s been ages since there’s been one here, the last one being in 19—

Is he looking at you?

There’s no way but… his gaze is fixated on the space you occupy, eyes wide. He bears the Mark of The Olde One — just like the Papas, but even with the Eye no one has ever seen you. He picks up his pace, walking to you with such purpose. You feel an excitement you haven’t felt since you were alive but it’s quickly replaced with crippling anxiety. In a fit of panic you poof out of the corridor and reappear deep into the underground archives, far far away from any person. But the new Cardinal saw you. He really did. After vying for this for so long… you aren’t ready for it.

***

You’ve meandered further into more densely populated areas of the Abbey over the last two weeks after taking some time for yourself to come to grips with the fact that he saw you. Problem is now the Cardinal is nowhere to be found. The longer the week stretched the more you began to believe it was over — he must have only been visiting for the day and thus your chance at talking to someone other than yourself for the first time in 55 years has slipped through your fingers. But that same hope you’ve clung to keeps you pacing and wandering day after day, hoping to catch of glimpse of his black cassock.

One late night you find yourself perusing the library, hovering around the new releases aisle (you like to see how ridiculous the names of romance novels have gotten). The further you get down the aisle the thicker the air becomes around you, the familiar buzzing in your ear from the first time you saw him. There’s a dim light coming from one of the nooks. You steel yourself, you’re going to make yourself known like you planned. Glowing brighter than you ever have before, you float toward the light. How can a ghost have anxiety? You’d think all of those feelings would be gone but somehow you feel like you’d throw up if that were even possible. You reach the outside of the nook and suck in a sharp breath before peering around the corner.

His duochromatic eyes are on you instantly.

“Per favore — please, do not run away again.” He sounds quiet, sleepy but polite and he extends a hand out to you. “I was worried I would not see you.” You blink at him as you reveal yourself fully to him, his gaze taking you in.

“You… you really see me?” Your voice cracks, your ghost trail wiggling with how charged you are emotionally.

“Yes. I do.” The Cardinal stands, his hand still out to you. “I, ehh… I’m the new Cardinal, Cardinal Copia. What is your name?”

My name?

“You’re… you’re the only person who’s ever seen me.” Not an answer to his question at all but your brain is broken. All that time you spent hoping for this…

“Oh. Oh, poverino.” His fingertips graze your hand and you jump — he could feel you too? “Ah! I am sorry! Ehhh… what can I do? How can I help you?” Copia shuffles on his feet anxiously, making sure to keep a safe distance so that he doesn’t startle you again. Your guise is crackling, vibrating with energy, more than you’ve ever felt before. He seems… delighted by your prescience and it makes you feel warm.

“H-how? Cardinal, how?” You push in closer to him, wisps brushing against his cassock.

“Non lo so. I’ve… I’ve just always been able to.” He gives you a sad smile. “I eh… had some weird “imaginary friends” growing up. But please, you must… you must have a lot to say after spending so long only listening.” Copia may have the gentlest voice you’ve ever heard. You want to hug him especially since something about this feels deeply personal to him…but you compose yourself and instead take him by the hand as you sit on the corner of his desk.

“What do I even say now?” You laugh to yourself. “I’ve been so worried about ever being heard that I haven’t thought about what to say. What do you… want to know, Cardinal?” Even now you’re feeling shy.

He gingerly rests his hand on top of yours, a warmth spreading through you that you’ve never experienced before.

“I’ve wanted to get to know you since I saw you, fantasmina. Please, tell me about you.” Copia squeezes your hand with a kind smile. Speechless. You take a deep breath and nod.

You’ll tell him.

You’ll tell him everything.

[recklessfiction]

The Many Happenings within the Palace

The Queen has given birth to a wolf. Her screams had echoed through the halls, only to be joined, after a moment, by the high, pitiable cries of the animal. He is a good lad, named Roderick by his grandfather. You wonder at the father, who, indeed, it could be, as the king died many years prior and was, decidedly, not a wolf.

A lord from a neighboring kingdom visited in the winter. His manner was jolly and his behavior most cordial. Many a lady had their eye on him, and you could see, through his swagger, that he knew it too. His face did nothing to deter them, as you had perhaps thought a skull might, but the ladies saw no issue with his lack of flesh. Indeed, they seemed to find the empty pits of his eye sockets most appealing.

A witch has put a curse on the princess. She sings, night and day, for hours on end, standing at the window of her boudoir. At first it was pleasant, a sweet voice rising over the city. All would stop to listen, enraptured by the sound of her songs. Then the fighting broke out, among heroes and kings, their minds lost to her voice like she was a siren. War would have broken out had the Queen not stepped in. The princess still sings, but her voice has become a mere croak and painful to hear; you cannot imagine the pain she goes through. The physician says she has done such damage to her throat that she will soon lose the ability to speak entirely if the curse is not reversed. You are still looking for a knight brave enough to go after the witch.

You have been given a quest to gain the favour of a dragon. On paper, he is no king, not even an earl or a lord, however he has claimed much of the land to the West as his own and the people have made no move against it, rather they seem to have accepted their strange new ruler with open arms. The Queen has asked you go to him, present yourself as an emissary of this court and ingratiate yourself with him. It is expected that you will be gone for some time but you have yet to start packing.

As it so happens, the court's jester, Harriett, has just pronounced herself to be Bjorg, the great goddess of Death. She did so during the new wolf-prince's christening, bursting into flame during a comical rendition of Ave Maria. Her face after this was a struggle to look upon, but her quips, though spoken with the voice of a dying old man, still had the court in shambles.

Another man has been lost to the woods, an old farmer just down the road from the Monastery. You saw him standing at the treeline when you went to look into it, but you did not dare approach, not when he was looking at you in that way, and certainly not when you saw the child standing just behind him. You told yourself you would not fall for their tricks, their temptations, again. But their attacks are beginning to move dangerously close to the Abbey. You will need to mention it to the Queen and the Bishop before you leave.

The Lady Carolina has finally presented herself to the court! You had heard that she had arrived perhaps four months ago, a ward of the Queen but no one had seen her. She had arrived in the dead of night and had been hastily brought to her rooms. There has been no concrete word of why she had come, only gossip to which you pay no mind. A fortnight ago, she joined in the anniversary celebration of the King's death. She is just as you thought she might be; lovely and with eyes that, while bright and bewildered, were intelligent and watchful. The rumours of her bright blue feathers and fine golden talons were not amiss either and you found yourself watching her for much of the night. It is a shame you will be gone on your quest before you have another opportunity to be introduced but perhaps when you return, you might inquire as to her health.

[gravehags]

the burn between our hearts

Pairing: Ghouls/Ghoulettes x f!Reader

Rating: Mature

Tags: ghouls doing ghoul shit, depression, tender emotions, surprise papa

Words: 2,524

Summary: You have never felt so lost, so empty before, and you are unsure if what's wrong with you can ever be fixed.

a/n: THIS IS IT the final installment of the ghoul bicycle series. I have had so much fun writing this and who knows, might be tempted to write a little more if inspiration strikes me. See end of post for another note.

~~~

33 days.

It’s been 33 days since you’ve seen or heard from any of the ghouls.

You spent the first two and a half weeks of that in your room, sobbing wildly in bed while Sister Marguerite sat next to you rubbing your back and murmuring words of comfort to you. Truth be told, the steady presence of the middle-aged sister provided a warmth that you desperately needed. She never spoke ill of the ghouls and what they had done to you, instead telling you to be patient. That the Unholy Father always provides. That there’s always more to a bad situation than it seems. All difficult words for you to believe when your heart had been shattered the day after you had left Aurora’s room. Your mind was torn - on one hand you had come to expect this: being cast aside once they were done using you. On the other hand…you really thought you had something special with them. From your first time with Swiss to your last time with Aurora and every interaction with every ghoul in between, you felt like you were finally home. That you had finally found your place in the Ministry, by their sides.

Or not.

After most of your tears dry and your depression lets up to the point where you can leave your bed, you become angry. Fucking infuriated. Even before they were your lovers, they were your friends. And they just ditch you and act like you don’t even fucking exist anymore? Fuck that. One evening, you get so mad you stride down to the ghoul den and begin banging on their bedroom doors, cussing and cursing their names. How dare they treat you like you’re disposable? But that’s been the story of your whole life, you suppose. Everyone gets tired of you eventually. With one last slam of your fist against the wall, hard enough to bruise and shake Cumulus’ door, your tears begin to slip out once more.

“FUCK YOU!” you shout, unsuccessfully holding back a sob. The silence in the corridor is deafening so you turn on your heel and leave without a glance backwards. You don’t see the door at the end of the hall cracking open and eyes watching you go.

You return to your chores in the abbey, ignoring the sneers and dirty glances your fellow siblings give you. You’re well aware you’ve been a nuisance to everyone, being holed up in your room and shirking your duties, and you're wracked with guilt. Sister Marguerite assures you sweetly that it’s okay, everyone goes through rough spells and your absence hasn’t caused any undue burden on the rest of the siblings but you have a hard time believing her. You attend your duties but without any real life in your eyes or spring in your step. When you cry, silently, every once in a while, your sniffles draw rolled eyes and scoffs. The siblings don’t say a word to you, until one day, the dam breaks. You’re in the library and let out a small, embarrassing sob as you shelve a book on love magic when a loud slam echoes throughout the library.

“You are so fucking ridiculous, do you know that?”

You don’t realize she’s talking to you until you turn slightly and see her searing gaze. It’s Sister Tamsin. You don’t know her - not really - but she’s well-liked by a lot of people in the abbey. She’s never spoken to you before this and you frantically wipe your tears as she walks closer to you. A small crowd has been attracted to the two of you now, multiple pairs of eyes shifting between you both.

“Acting this way because of the fucking ghouls. Like you’re supposed to be special or some bullshit. Honey, the ghouls fuck everyone. They can’t help themselves. All of us have had a ghoul proposition us at some point, you’re just the only one stupid enough to fall for it. They’re nothing but fucking animals–”

“They are not animals,” you say loudly in a shaky voice but Tamsin isn’t done berating you.

“--oh look at that! She finally uses her mouth to speak instead of just opening it for ghoul cock and cunt. Go on, sweetheart. Tell us all how those beasts love you so much. Their little whore. Their–”

The slap echoes throughout the large room, but both your hands remain clenched into fists by your sides. Looming over Tamsin’s doubled-over form is Sister Marguerite, looking like fury personified in her neat habit.

“You little cunt,” Marguerite spits, causing your eyebrows to raise. You’ve never heard her swear before. “You know just as well as everyone else in this room - in this whole abbey - how sacred the ghouls are. Summoned by our own Papa from the realm of the Unholy Father to help him spread the word of our ministry. And you dare defile their name - and the name of those they have chosen - for petty cruelty? You are nothing, Tamsin. A jealous little gnat. And rest assured, Papa will be hearing about this.”

No one in the room is stunned quite as much as you as Marguerite abandons the red-faced, humiliated Tamsin in order to come to your side and escort you out of the room with her arm firmly planted across your lower back. When you finally step out of the library, she shuts the door firmly behind her and grabs your biceps, pulling you into a hug.

“Enough is enough,” she murmurs, rubbing your back. “I’m relieving you of your duties for the day. Take care, hon. Go back to your room. I’ll be having a word with our Papa.”

With one last squeeze she hustles down the hall, skirts flying and you’re left shell-shocked in the empty corridor. You rub at your eyes with the heels of your hands before doing as she requested.

Three days pass.

Three days and not a single soul dares look at you sideways let alone speak to you. You notice, with a twisted sense of satisfaction, that Tamsin is nowhere to be found. Not in the library, not in the gardens - you haven’t seen her at mass or in the dining hall. When you quietly ask Marguerite about her she just gives you a beatific smile and says, “she’s no longer a problem for you.” Something within you warns you not to inquire further so instead you go back to your normal life. After you finish a shift in the kitchens for the evening, you step out into the cloisters and head for a small courtyard you enjoy. You plop down onto a stone bench with a heaving sigh, trying to ignore the constant ache in your heart as you breathe in the evening air.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your head whips to the side and when you see a figure dressed in a red tracksuit and the earnest face of Papa Emeritus IV you jump up.

“Papa!” you gasp, curtsying before him. “I–no! Please, sit.”

He lowers himself next to you, putting his gloved hands on his thighs and taking a deep breath.

“Nice out, eh?” he asks quietly. You’ve never seen Papa like this - out of the majority of his papal paints and elaborate robes - and you certainly have never spoken to him in conversation like this.

“Beautiful,” you say, folding your hands in your lap. His eyes lower to watch you rub your fingers anxiously and worry at your cuticles. Gently, he reaches over and places a hand over yours.

“I know you’ve been hurting, sorella,” he murmurs, thumb grazing over your knuckles.

“You…you do?” All of a sudden you’re filled with dread at the thought of your poor mental state and shirked duties being reported all the way to Papa. You open your mouth to explain yourself, to apologize profusely but he speaks first.

“My ghouls,” he begins, “are very peculiar creatures. They don’t take well to most humans.”

“Oh?”

“Sì, sì…they are very protective of each other and of me. And…they don’t take human lovers.”

“They…don’t?”

“Not at all, sorella. Which makes you a very peculiar creature yourself. Something that my ghouls noticed straightaway. Something that they have spoken to me a great length about.”

Your stomach does a backflip and he looks at you with his mismatched eyes.

“Sorella, they wanted me to tell you…it is time. Go to them. Go to the last door at the end of the hallway this evening. I apologize for not telling you more - telling you sooner - but they had much to accomplish and wanted this to be a surprise.”

Your heart feels as if it’s going to burst through your ribcage and tears form in your eyes as you regard him.

“Papa…” you say quietly, your voice cracking, “thank you. Ave Sathanas. Thank you, Papa.”

He smiles at you warmly, and reaches up to briefly cup your cheek before jerking his head towards the corridor behind the two of you.

“Go on, cara. They are waiting.”

Before you can doubt yourself, you plant a brief kiss on Papa’s cheek and scurry off. As you make your way on the familiar path to the ghoul den, your hands shake by your sides. What did Papa know? What did Marguerite know, always reminding you to have faith and patience and guiding you with a gentle hand? When you enter the corridor you force yourself to take a series of deep breaths. Swallowing hard, and guided as if by an invisible hand, your feet take you down the wide corridor, all the way to the door at the end. Your pulse thunders in your ears and after a beat, you raise your fist and knock twice before placing your hand on the knob and turning slowly.

What meets your gaze after the door creaks open instantly brings tears to your eyes.

They’re there - all ten of them - standing in various spots in the large room staring at you. When you choke out a pathetic sob, Swiss is by your side in an instant.

“Hey, babygirl,” he says quietly, hand rubbing between your shoulder blades. “Do you like it?”

When you look up at him quizzically, he gestures to the room. You hadn’t even noticed the setting for all the ghouls you adored so dearly. A bed - a ridiculously enormous bed - is pushed against the far wall. Surrounding the large piece of furniture is a collection of thick cushions and pillows of varying sizes, blankets draped here and there. A dresser stands by the opposite wall and a doorway leads to a darkened room you assumed to be the bathroom. Eyebrows drawn in confusion, you look around at them.

“I…I don’t get it.”

“It’s yours,” Cirrus says, stepping forward and taking Swiss’ place at your side. “It’s what we’ve been doing all this time. We can’t bring a mate into the den and not make them a nest.”

She says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world but your jaw falls slack and you hear Aether let out a soft laugh.

“Mate?” your voice is comically high pitched as your eyes dart from Mountain to Sunshine to Aurora, perched on the end of the bed.

“If you’ll have us,” Cumulus supplies quickly, “we’re not going to assume but…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You can’t suppress the hurt in your voice and all at once they jump up and crowd around you.

“Love, like Cirrus said, we couldn’t tell you until we made a proper place for you,” Rain says softly, soothingly, “that’s how it’s supposed to be. The pack has to provide for you.”

“We’re sorry we didn’t say anything, though,” Phantom supplies, wringing his hands, “it…it wasn’t right to make you hurt like that. I told the others, but–”

“--But it was better than making you feel like you’ve been strung along. We had to make our intentions perfectly clear by doing this,” Mountain says calmly, gesturing around the room.

“I thought…I thought you didn’t want me anymore. That you didn’t care about me. That you never cared about me. I–” your words break off in a loud sob that has you doubling over on yourself and the ghouls looking anxiously around the room at one another.

“Honey, I’m sorry. We’re so sorry,” Cumulus says as she steps forward to embrace you, “human emotions can be…difficult for us to understand. We’ve never done this before, you know that? We’ve been telling you for so long that you’re special, that you’re perfect. If we didn’t want you we never, ever would have made this for you. You’re the one. You’re the only one for us.”

When you pull back from Cumulus’ arms, uselessly wiping your tears from her shoulder, she cups your face in her palms.

“We adore you. All of us.” The others nod emphatically, all reaching out to touch you in some way. It doesn’t feel real to you, but you drink it in all the same. Gently, you let go of your anger, of your doubt, and allow yourself to be filled with the perfect, aching love that surrounds you in this room.

“Thank you,” you whisper, squeezing Swiss’ hand in your left and Aurora’s in your right. “This is…wow. All for me, huh?”

“All for you,” Sunshine confirms, brushing your hair away from your face. “Does that mean you accept our offer?”

You let them squirm, just a little bit by remaining silent for a few seconds. When the “yes” leaves your lips, the room erupts triumphantly and suddenly your face is being smothered in kisses. When Swiss picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bed, you can’t help but laugh, thinking of your first time. The ensuing days of celebration are filled with as much love as lust, your naked form barely allowed to ever leave the bed and always surrounded by the sounds of pleasure. You’re thoroughly exhausted by the end of the third day, abbey duties completely forgotten and body limp in the soft sheets. Gently, so as not to wake your pack, you raise yourself onto your elbows and look around the room. On your right on the bed is Dewdrop, snoring softly, while Cumulus curls up behind you. Phantom has found a spot at the bottom of the bed and Swiss and Aurora are intertwined on a cushion across the room. Cirrus, Sunshine, and Rain sleep soundly in a pile next to them while Aether lies curled into Mountain. You smile as you regard the forms of your lovers - all ten of them, you want to laugh - and lower yourself back down into the pillow. Cumulus stirs and murmurs something into your hair, and you reach a soothing hand back behind you to scratch gently at her scalp. Dew’s eyes open briefly, glowing in the dim light of the room and he gives you a sleepy smile. Leaning over, you place a soft kiss on his forehead and run your thumb along his cheekbone.

And for once in your life, here at the abbey or otherwise, you are at peace, you are held, and you are loved.

~~~

a/n: if you're wondering what happened to sister tamsin well. ghouls get hungry, don't they?

[pitviperofdoom]

So it's been a hot second since I took a break from my full series reread, but I found myself once again thinking about Outcast of Redwall and the raw deal that Veil Sixclaw got.

What kills me is that before the poisoning, the one thing Veil got in trouble for--the only thing, in fact--was stealing. This kid didn't even get into fights, he just stole food from the kitchens, which as Bryony points out is normal Abbey kid behavior. Another character shoots back that stealing is something most kids outgrow implying that the fact that Veil hasn't is suspicious, which is frankly a wild thing to say to the great grand-daughter of Gonff the Mousethief.

(In a kinder version of events, the adults in Veil's life might have shaken their heads with long-suffering fondness and remarked that he was following in his adopted ancestor's footsteps.)

The whole point of Redwall is that it's the woodland utopia where no one goes hungry and everyone has what they need, which is why kids stealing pies off the windowsill is no big deal... except when Veil does it, apparently. Veil's the one that gets physical punishment when he's suspected of stealing--not even proven! I can't recall off the top of my head any incidents in the rest of the series of corporal punishment in Redwall beyond idle threats that the kids know not to take seriously. But Veil gets scrutinized from the moment Redfarl and Skipperjo pick him up out of the mud and they and Bella look at this literal infant and say "oh yeah, he's gonna be evil for sure."

And then a thought occurred to me: it's generational trauma.

Most of the characters in Outcast are two generations removed from the characters in Mossflower. Bella of Brockhall is in both books. Verdauga and Tsarmina are still within living memory. Until the end of Outcast, as far as she knows, Bella lost her entire family to vermin warlords. Mossflower opens on a scene in which a ferret kicks in the door of a family of subsistence farmers, threatens their children with slavery, and takes all their food as taxes leaving them with none for the winter--and the Stickles were the last holdouts. The other farmers in the area had already run off to join the resistance at that point, so this kind of treatment was normal.

And we're left with a close-knit society of people who've grown up with this shared history, with a venerated authority figure who still carries the scars and memories of what they lost--and suddenly another warlord comes within a hairsbreadth of discovering the peaceful society they built in the aftermath, and leaves behind a starving neglected baby whose first impression is eating frogspawn in the mud and biting his rescuers while being the spitting image of the warlord they just narrowly avoided.

All of that gets thrown into this caustic mixture of fear and paranoia that gets projected onto a literal baby and results in their completely out of pocket response to a child taking food from the kitchens in the We Share Everything Abbey.

It also might explain why Bryony, who's young enough to be three generations removed and may have been born after most of the survivors of Kotir had already passed, is the only one who isn't scared and suspicious of Veil on sight.

[wrathofrats]

“Quit smiling at me, I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.” Alpha/omega ?

I miss the retired gay couple next door :(

I miss them too dw im obsessed with them

400 of just omega being really into bird watching and his husband

Omega came inside excitedly from the porch, scribbling furiously in his notebook. He almost seemed to be vibrating with excitement as he took the binoculars from around his throat and sat them on the counter.

Alpha sat on a stool, pushing a warm cup of tea to his mate. Oolong with an obscene amount of sugar, just how he had his coffee as well. It made alpha gag but it made omegas lips taste sweet afterwards, so he tried not to complain.

“And what’s for you so excited my love” alpha looked over his glasses, taking a sip of his own cup.

“I finally saw one! I can cross another bird off in my journal, I haven’t been able to in months” omega sighed, shoving his book towards alpha to show him the bird he had crossed off.

A wallcreeper, Tichodromidae. Usually mostly found in Southern Asia but sometimes wandered into their part of the abbey. Earth mentioned seeing one once. Only once. Omega had almost given up hope on finding one again.

Alpha smiled at him, looking at his notebook with messy cursive notes scribbled down in a hurry. Omega had doctors handwriting, that’s for sure, but after years of being with him alpha could mostly make it out.

“Did he land or just fly by?” Alpha asked, trying to take an interest. His gaze was soft but intense, like whatever omega was about to say would be the most important thing in the world to him.

Omegas a simple man. A handsome cozy looking fire ghoul in front of him who has never not looked adorable In his reading glasses and honestly it’s not omegas fault he gets lost in those fiery brown eyes really.

“He- um” omega started “he landed”

“You don’t seem so sure” alpha laughed. He was starting to get crows feet, which omega found a little ironic considering the grumpy old man usually only smiled and laughed with him.

“Quit smiling at me, I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.” Omega complained, snatching his book back.

“Can’t help it stardust. I just love you” alpha smiled

[lethalchiralium]

Window to the Abbey | Happiness Series

a/n: it’s been so long! i’m so excited for the next few chapters :) WE GET KÖNIG EVERYBODY IM SO EXCITED

warning: Children, Mellie is sick :(

summary: Winnie and Mellie are cautious of the two new operators in their house, Simon’s calling, and Mellie’s sick. To say you’re handling it with grace would be an understatement.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

By the time you had headed to bed, your kids were sound asleep. All of the people in your house were fed, but only Laswell would be staying up later than you. König and Roach were meant to be arriving past midnight, and as much as you wanted to stay up and greet them, your kids always run you down by the end of the day. You were running off of fumes by the time you had showered and brushed your teeth, the familiar motion of scrubbing them felt like a warming lullaby. As the swish, swish, swish of your toothbrush sounded in the bedroom, you searched Simon’s dresser for an old shirt to sleep in. It was sweet to see that he still kept his band t-shirts from when he was a young adult, even if he confessed to you that he didn’t much care for the music now. You plucked a worn one that you often found yourself sleeping in, the band name had been washed off after years of wear.

You returned to the bathroom, spitting out the toothpaste into the sink as your phone began to ring. You looked over to the tub where your phone was sitting on the ledge, seeing the caller ID. Simon.

“Everything right?”

“Right as rain.”

“Baby’s okay?”

You settled your hands on the sink before putting your toothbrush back into the cabinet. “Simon. The baby is fine. The girls are fine. I’m eating like I should, taking the vit-a-mins-“

“Vit-a-mins,” He mocked you, pitching his voice higher. “Don’t mock me. Laswell there?”

A laugh left your lips. “Yeah, she’s here. The girls warmed up very quickly since she brought at least a thousand dollars worth of presents.”

“I’m not going to ask.”

“How’re my boys?” You grabbed your hair comb, taking a piece of hair in one hand and starting to detangle it.

“Gaz and Soap are doing fine. Being annoying as usual. Cap lost one of his good cigars.”

“I’ll find him a new one. And how’s my husband?” You kept brushing your hair, exhaustion weaving its way through your muscles. It’s just two more weeks, we can do this.

“Tired. I want to be home with you.”

Your heart already felt bruised without him, him saying that felt like another hit. You gazed at yourself in the mirror, internally waving away the feeling that Simon would come through the doorway at that very moment. “I know. I’m so tired, this baby is already takin’ everything out of me.”

“Don’t be scared to ask König or Roach for help. John already drilled them about not saying no to you.”

Your heart swelled, a smile on your face now. What you did to deserve Simon and his team, you’d never know. “He didn’t have to do that, I’m an adult.” You then gave up on completely detangling your hair, just taking the brush through it enough before you put your brush down. There wasn’t anything you needed for the soldiers to do for you, other than keep your daughters safe in the walls of your home. Your fingers gripped onto the porcelain sink, fighting the sinking feeling of abandonment. Simon is coming back, you tell yourself. He would never leave you and your girls alone.

“Yeah, but you’re my wife. My pregnant wife.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest, happiness in your heart as you moved out of the bathroom but not before shutting off the light. You kept your phone close to your ear as you moved towards your bed. “Simon, I’m barely a month and a half along, I’m not a hormonal monster yet.”

“I still want you taken care of the way I want you to be.”

You moved into your bed, sitting up against the headboard. “You’re too good to me.” You pulled the blankets up to your stomach, the hand lingering on your belly before sliding over to Simon’s cold pillow beside yours. Your heart squeezed with a cold sensation that you didn’t dare place.

“I’m doin’ my best.”

“I miss you.”

A beat of silence then the sound of shuffling. “Miss you more. Can’t even sleep without you, jus’ keep tossin’ and turnin’.”

“I don’t even want to think about sleep.”

“You need to sleep regardless, I want you exactly how I left you, but with a bigger belly.”

You laughed a little, settling down onto your back. “I’m not gonna get big that fast, Simon. You’ll only be gone, what, two weeks?”

“Probably. I just… Don’t want to miss you growing my baby again.”

You tugged Simon’s pillow into your chest as you rolled onto your side, settling your cheek on the soft fabric. “You’ll be back in no time, I promise you’re not missing much.”

“Y/N?”

Goosebumps traveled up and down your spine, knowing he was being serious if he said your name. “Yeah?”

“Be safe for me, okay?”

“Always.” You answered, wanting to feel his heartbeat underneath your fingertips again. “Are you going to sleep?”

“I was gonna try.”

“Can you stay on the line ‘til I fall asleep?”

A deep and lighthearted chuckle sounded from your phone, but you didn’t feel embarrassed that you needed his comfort - you knew he loved you more than anything, he’d do anything for you. “Yeah, love. Jus’ close your eyes. I love you.”

A smile on your lips as you closed your eyes, letting the phone stay on his pillow, only a couple inches from your face.

“I love you too, Simon.”

There was just a small moment of his laughter before he spoke again. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be home before you know it.”

“Well, this is new.”

Mellie’s face was buried into your neck, little tears in her eyes as she curled into your chest. You have an apologetic look to König, the tall Austrian only blinked back. “I promise she’s usually friendly, I don’t know what’s gotten into her.” The man looked genuinely distressed, as if he did something wrong. You felt worried as soon as you saw that look in his eye, but you were quick to reassure him. “I’m sure she’ll get over it, she doesn’t quite like the masks. Simon doesn’t wear one around the house so she’s not quite used to it yet.” You looked down to Mellie and placed your hand on her forehead, feeling her skin be warmer than usual - that was probably why she wasn’t acting right.

He cleared his throat. “I-I’m sorry.”

You waved your hand, softly bouncing on your feet as your baby then gripped your hairs at the nape of your neck. “Ow- It’s fine, König. You don’t have to take the mask off if you don’t want, she’ll be fine.” You turned away from him, walking back into the living room from the kitchen. Laswell was standing near the window that displayed the garden, Roach was sat on the floor playing fire trucks with Winnie. Breakfast had come and gone, Mellie had woken up late and had not taken a liking to Roach or König. The little one was still quietly crying into your neck as you moved across the room to Laswell.

She had been on the phone almost all morning, voice low as she kept her eye on all entrances. But now, no phone was held in her hand, only her gaze upon the garden was holding her attention.

“Kate?”

She looked over to shoulder and a small frown appeared on her face as she saw the scared girl on your arm. “Aww, what happened?”

You smirked a little, looking down to Mellie. “She’s not a fan of Uncle König or Uncle Roach’s masks.”

Laswell laughed a little and you looked back up to her. “Anyway, what’s up?”

“Are you sure that nothing’s gonna happen?” Your voice lowered, your free hand coming to help wrangle your baby hairs from Mellie’s grip. “Are we safe here?”

The woman’s smile fell before she took a look outside, then back to you. “No. Anything can happen, no matter how secure the place is. König and Roach being here is a precaution, I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

You nodded before looking over your shoulder, seeing Winnie giggling as Roach crashed a toy car into the big building made of toy blocks. You turned back to Laswell. “Well, thank you for staying too. I was gonna ask if I could take Winnie out to the park later, maybe leave Mellie here ‘cause she feels like she’s running a fever.”

The woman pressed her lips together, looking to Roach and Winnie too before she looked back to you. “Roach and I will take her.”

You gave her a smile. “Thank you.” You moved back towards your couch, stepping around Winnie as she demolished Roach’s block house with her toy. Roach made a noise of surprise towards Winnie as you sat down, a small coo from Mellie drew your attention back to her. You looked down at her, hand instantly back on her forehead - she was very warm, that made you worried. Your eyes flickered upwards, seeing König standing in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes watching everyone in the room. “König?”

His back became ramrod straight as he answered, “Yes, ma’am?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s just Y/N. But in the very left top cabinet from the oven is the medicine cabinet, could you get me the baby Tylenol and the syringe beside it?”

The giant nodded, immediately disappearing into the kitchen as Kate softly laughed from the windowsill. You looked to her, she spoke with a laugh, “Your husband has them both terrified of you.”

Shaking your head, you sat forwards and rested a hand on Winnie’s head, patting it. Your daughter moved her head to look up at you with a smile before looking back at Roach. “He’s just cautious.”

“He is very intimidating.” König spoke from behind the couch, a large hand appeared in your vision with the things you asked for as you leaned back.

You grabbed them, not before saying, “Keep your hand there.” Mellie was still facing you, so you placed the medicine down in your lap before maneuvering her little baby hand to settle on top of König’s outstretched palm. You glanced up to the man before saying, “Simon holds her hand when I give her medicine.”

König made a noise of acknowledgment as you kept Mellie on your arm, moving your hands together so you could quickly draw the dose of Tylenol into the syringe. By the time Mellie raised her hand to look at who she was touching, you had squished her cheeks together so her mouth opened and squirted the medicine into the back of her throat. The little baby squawked and coughed, withdrawing her hand from König and rubbing her eye, softly crying.

You put down the syringe and pet her face, she only murmured at you before slamming her face back into your neck. “I’m sorry, honey, it’s alright.” You looked up to König, who was watching your daughter very curiously. “Thank you.”

He nodded in response.

Mellie hated baths when she was sick. The sweet little girl was crying, upset as you gently poured the lukewarm water over her back. The rubber duck she had in her hand was curled into her chest, her little throat sounding rough since she had finally stopped screaming. It was at moments like this where you wished Simon was there with you - his gentle hand would settle on Mellie’s back, the baby would immediately begin to calm down. But Mellie didn’t want you to rub her back, touch her head, or even hold her; she was getting too hot, trying to tear off her clothes as she screeched for her Dada. He had been gone for less than two days and you felt like you were already overwhelmed.

Winnie was always easy as a baby and Mellie seemed that way too, at least until Simon had to leave. He was almost never gone since the night he had came home and found you in bed, his two month old daughter on your chest. The longest he would be gone was one night but he had been back in the morning, bright and early. She’s always had him, you understood it will be hard since she’s too little to understand why Simon was gone. You kissed her warm forehead, careful to miss the sweet smelling soap on her head.

Winnie had gone to the park with Roach and Kate only a couple of hours ago, Kate saying that she was going to run Simon’s usual errands. Shopping, some paperwork, pick up dinner. Now, the only ones left in the house was König, you, and Mellie - your daughter wanted nothing to do with the gentle giant. You found him oddly sweet, he was insanely awkward for a grown man but sometimes that’s just how it is. It took you a while to break Simon of that shell.

Your daughter coughed a little, pulling you from your thoughts as you kept cupping water to wash off the sudsy soap from her little body. “Sorry, honey. Mama’s tired today, isn’t she?”

Mellie’s deep brown eyes stared up at you, red with tears as she sniffled a soft, “Dada.”

You cupped the back of her head, gently threading your thumb over her baby curls. “He’ll be home soon, my girl. It’s just me for right now, okay?” Your baby pouted a little, tears welled in her eyes and you were ready for another thirty minutes of screaming - but it didn’t come. Only soft little whimpers from her, you could almost hear your heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Dada.” She murmured, her free hand coming to make a grabby hand towards you. You instantly placed your hand in front of hers, letting her grip onto your fingers.

You gave her a small smile. “We’re done, baby. You feel a little better? We’ll get some medicine on your chest ‘n we’ll take a nap.” Mellie coughed in response, you looked away for just a moment to grab her towel that had printed ducks on it - Winnie had picked it out at the shop specifically for her baby sister months ago. You turned back to Mellie, plucking her from the water and wrapping her up, letting her still very warm forehead to rest on your cheek. You kept her balanced in your grip as you leaned down, pulling out the drain plug before moving to leave the bathroom.

You pulled the door open, feeling a slight breeze through the house that wasn’t there before you took Mellie to the bath.

König must’ve opened a window.

Your daughter had grown quiet with her wet cheek against yours, you kept her wrapped up when you walked across the hallway, the floorboards creaked underneath your bare feet as you opened the door to her nursery. The white curtains in front of her window were softly flowing with the cool breeze, you silently thanked König for opening the windows. The cooler temperature would make Mellie comfortable. You rested your baby on her changing table and was quick to put a new nappy on her, the little one looked up at you drowsily. You were quick to put her ducky towel over her little body to keep her warm as you opened a drawer or two in the table, looking for your little tub of baby vapor rub - something your mother swore by when she came to visit months ago. You weren’t very keen on using it unless either of your babies were incredibly sick, and the way Mellie was acting definitely made you feel like this cold was gonna be a bad one.

You put just a little smidge of the rub on her chest, rubbing it in and keeping an eye on her little face. “Look at Mama, bug.” Her eyes were staring right behind you, something she always did, but she didn’t look back to you. She turned her head the other way, looking at the wall. A sigh left your lips as you kept gently rubbing her chest.

She’s just sick, she’ll be acting fine soon.

You picked her up again, keeping her tucked into your chest. It was no use trying to put new clothes on her, all of the Riley girls strip off their clothes when they’re sick, no matter how old - you included. Mellie murmured against your chest, hands holding onto the shirt of Simon’s you were wearing. “We’re gonna go lay down with Mama this time, okay?”

She shook her little head into your chest as you moved out of her nursery and then into your bedroom, very easily holding Mellie with one arm as the other pulled back the blankets. You tugged Simon’s pillow to be in the middle of his side and then slid yourself in between the cold covers. You placed Mellie on her back, the pillow acting like a barrier between her and the end of the bed. Fortunately, Mellie didn’t like to move around when she was sick - she stayed in the same place, so it was easy for you to pull yourself under the covers and over her belly. Her hand gripped the sleeve of your shirt, tears welled in her eyes as she murmured some noises.

Your head settled on your pillow, you gently moved Mellie’s hand so you could move onto your side. Your hand then rested on her forehead, feeling her temperate had gone down a little but she was still warm.

“We’ll talk to Dad when he gets off work, okay?” You murmured, your hand then rested on Mellie’s stomach.

She cooed a little, a whisper escaped her lips, “Dada.”

You smiled at your baby. “Yeah, Dada. Mama’s gonna call and we’ll talk to him.” You reached your arm out and grabbed your phone, noting that the time was almost six. You unlocked your phone and shot Simon a text, hoping he’d respond soon. In the mean time, you put your phone on his pillow before curling up, watching little Mellie was she watched you. “We gotta wait, lovie. Sissy will want to talk to Dad too.”

She shook her head a little, a smile appeared on your face.

“Mmhmm. Dad’s working, he’ll call us in a minute.”

A thunder of footsteps could be heard downstairs as well as the distinct laugh of Winnie, you smiled. Winnie always found you when she came home, which would be perfect timing if Simon called. You turned over to look at your bedroom door, hearing her rushing footsteps as they approached your room before she burst in, her pigtails half undone and a huge grin on her face. “Mama!”

“Hi, baby!” You instantly smiled, putting an arm out to let her grab so you could pull her up - she helped pull herself up onto the bed and instantly fell onto your chest, forcing a loud “Oof!” from your throat. Her little head was shoved into your neck, arms around your chest as best they could as your one arm wrapped tightly around her. “Did you have fun, my love?”

Furious nodding ensued from your eldest daughter. “Uncle Roach fell off the swing set.” A giggle escaped her lips and a chuckle left yours as you looked down to her brunette hair. “And I got an ice lolly.”

“Did you thank your uncle and aunt?”

“Yes, Mama.”

You kissed her hair. “Good girl. I was seeing if Dad wanted to call, do you want to talk to him?”

She nodded into your neck, but gently pet her back as she mumbled, “I miss Dad.”

You sighed a little. “I do too.”

Winnie raised her head from your neck, a little frown on her face. “When is he coming home?”

Your hand was quick to pull the ties from her pigtails, unable to look your daughter in the face as you said, “Soon, baby.”

“Is Melsie sick?” The girl peered over you to look at Mellie, you looked too - the baby was gazing at both of you, a smile appeared on your face. Her little face looked tired, her hands resting on her own chest. “She looks sick, Mama.”

You sighed, your other hand coming to settle on top of your baby’s belly, she whimpered. You fully turned your head to look at Mellie, the little baby looking and feeling sick made you upset. Such a sweet little thing didn’t deserve to be uncomfortable and in pain. “She is sick, Winnie. Can you take my phone from Dad’s pillow?”

The older girl moved over your chest, stretching over her baby sister and then bringing your phone to rest on your chest. As you did, it began to vibrate - you pulled your hand away from Winnie to hold it and answer Simon’s call.

“Hi love.”

A squeal came from Winnie as she chirped, “Daddy!”

“Hi, Duckling. How are you?”

She giggled, taking the phone in her hands and she began to chat with her dad, telling him all about her fun adventures with her Uncle Roach and Auntie Kate. You watched her smile get wider with every second she talked to Simon, your hand went to settle on Mellie’s stomach. She whined a little, you glanced to Mellie but you couldn’t stop watching how happy Winnie was.

It reminded you of when Simon would call every night he could and read Winnie to sleep when she was two. She would be so happy to hear his voice when he had been physically gone for weeks, she would always react to his voice when he called since he had started when she was one. It was sweet, you couldn’t ever get over just how much your husband adored his daughters.

Mellie cooed a little, hearing Simon’s voice and letting out a small, “Dada.”

“Winnie,” Your hand reached out for Winter, who looked to you with a curious glare. “It’s Mellie’s turn.”

And there it was, Winnie’s signature pout. With her bottom lip pushed out and tears at the ready, she murmured, “But she can’t talk, Mama. I wanna talk to Daddy.”

“I know, but it’s been a few minutes.” You raised your chest from the bed, now able to swoop some curls around Winnie’s ear. “Mellie needs to hear from him too, even if she can’t talk back. Come on, now.” Winnie let out a grumble, you heard Simon’s deep chuckling as the phone was placed on your chest. “Thank you.”

You settled the phone near Mellie’s head as Winnie crawled over, curling herself onto Simon’s pillow as the baby cooed, “Dada.”

“Hi, Mellie.”

That spooked Mellie, causing her to take frantic looks around as she kicked out her feet. Her older sister laughed, watching her Melsie look for their dad.

“Dada Dada.” Your baby’s little head moved to look at you, one hand reached out for your face - you intercepted it with your own hand, a smile on your face.

“I bet she’s confused.”

You nodded to yourself before saying a soft, “She misses you, Si.”

There was a moment where you knew exactly how Simon would react to that, knowing he’d be sitting on his bed and clenching his blanket in his grasp, trying to stop the tears that have rarely fell in his home with you.

“I miss my girls.”

“We miss you too.” You looked to your phone, a part of you wishing that it was physically him instead. Hair tousled, eyes soft and smile wide - he’d be holding Mellie while she cried, gently talking to her to calm her down. He would be home soon, I felt it in my heart. I kissed Mellie before I reached for Winnie, kissing her forehead. “Just wanted to let the girls hear your voice, baby. We love you.”

“I love you too. I’ll be home soon.”

Simon stared at his phone, mask in hand as he sat in his curtain darkened office. The only illumination was his phone and his computer in front of him - he felt he deserved to sit in darkness until he finally came home to his girls, his daylight.

He flicked the small printed photo of his family in his free hand, it was the one he kept in his wallet.

“I know it’s early, but I’m gonna try and get them to sleep. Mel’s starting some sort of cold.”

Simon’s heart ached. He wished to be home that very second so he could scoop his little girl into his arms and love on her. “I’m sorry I’m not there to help.”

“You’re being a superhero, Daddy!” Winnie chirped, he could hear her smile. It hurt his heart that he couldn’t hold her either.

“Good night, my girls.” He spoke softly. “I love you.”

You whispered your good night and your love for him, all while Winnie pressed her face to the phone with giggles. The call ended, and Simon was left in a cold dark room, hours from home on a base that he’s only been twice before.

His eyes glanced over to his desktop, rereading the information on the target.

Last seen in London, UK three days ago.

Blond, green eyed, bulk build. Associated with Russian Mafia.

The photo box was empty. Every man who had eyes on him couldn’t get an image fast enough, weren’t skilled enough to see that he had slipped onto a train to Manchester to find his son. Simon could never know that his entire life hung in the balance of one man. And it wasn’t even himself.

He shut off his computer, sliding a hand down his face. He stretched back in his chair before he stood, still flipping the picture in his fingers as he made his way to his small cot. If he closed his eyes for a moment, even in the darkness of this already solitary office, he could imagine himself getting back into his bed. Under the soft sheets, arms curled around you and leg tucked in between yours.

He sat on his dark green canvas cot, toed off his already unlaced boots, and let his back hit the wall.

There were going to be many sleepless nights ahead of him, and it wasn’t even because he had to be awake and vigilant. It was because he yearned for you.

taglist (ignore that tagging hates me): @sigynxlokiwifelover @lumpypoll @multitargaryen @chloeforde @blueoorchid @vir-tual @lolis-pikt @theverycelestialgemini @simpingforleoandnico @prodyng @royalty-purple @projectdreamwalker @tiredweeb7

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[daredvssy]

Insatiable

I've been really struggling to finish writing anything over the past few months, but this idea has been consuming me ever since the copia rizzchat on twitter was discussing it. So, for your enjoyment- approximately 1500 words of Copia being a 🐱 eating fiend. If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here.

Ship: Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Rating: 18+!!!!!! No minors PLEASE!

Wordcount: 1530

Warnings: smut, f!receiving oral sex, overstimulation, dom!copia

Throughout the course of your relationship with him, you had come to know that there were a lot of things to love about Copia. He was an incredibly hard worker, who had earned every bit of power allowed to him by his position as Papa; and it was a role that he excelled in. He could command large crowds with ease, and there were very few at the Ministry who would not bend to his will should he decide he wanted something.

 Despite this, he was still an awkward, rather silly man, constantly making you laugh at his antics. He was extremely kind hearted. He cared very deeply for those who looked to him for leadership within the Ministry. You had no doubt he would do almost anything for any of the siblings who lived at the abbey. 

His love for his pet rats was one of the things that had drawn you to him in the first place; you had never seen anyone who treated the small creatures with the reverence he did. He was an incredible listener too; you could always tell you had his full attention whenever you spoke to him. 

As a partner he was as close as a person could get to perfect, as far as you could tell. He always found ways to let you know he was thinking about you throughout his busy day, and no matter how much he had on his plate he always made a point to set aside time to spend with you. 

Yes, there were plenty of reasons to love Copia. Though right now, one of those reasons had your attention more than all the others: the man was a pussy eating fiend. 

At any possible opportunity he would be in between your legs drinking you down like he needed it to survive. He'd go for hours if you let him, making you cum over and over until you had nothing left to give. It was almost like he was doing it solely for his own benefit, and your pleasure was just a fortunate side effect of him taking what he wanted from you. 

Today he seemed particularly desperate for you. He had been working you over for what felt like an eternity. After he gave you not one but two mind-shattering orgasms with no signs of stopping you had made the mistake of reaching down to push his head away reflexively in your overstimulated state.

Doing so had lost you the privilege of having your hands free. He had tied your hands to the headboard above you and was back between your legs, sucking on your clit as though his life depended on it. 

You looked down at him as he worked his tongue around your sensitive nub. His hair was disheveled, and there was more of his papal paint smeared on your thighs than there was left on his face. While you were fully naked and vulnerable, exposed to him, he had only partially undressed; his jeans and vest had been discarded on the floor, but his shirt hung from his frame unbuttoned. He was rutting against the bed through his boxers as he ate you out, little grunts of pleasure escaping him as he worked. The sight of him like this would have been too much for you even if he wasn’t currently latched onto your overstimulated clit. You thrashed against your restraints, bucking your hips involuntarily. 

"None of that, dolce," he snarled, pinning your hips to the bed with an iron grip before returning his attention to your drenched core, shoving his tongue deep into your cunt. 

A pathetic, keening noise escaped you, your eyes rolling back in your head as he worked his tongue within you, his nose stimulating your clit just enough that you found yourself rapidly approaching your third orgasm of the evening.

"Oh, fuck Papa," you whimpered, the overwhelming sensations making your legs start to shake.

"That's it, tesoro, come for me again," he instructed, pulling back for a moment before returning his attention to your clit once more, sucking around the sensitive bud. 

You were almost instantly thrown over the edge, your back arching and a stream of incoherent babbling escaping you as your mind went fuzzy with the overwhelming pleasure. 

Copia diligently worked you through your orgasm, continuing to suck on your clit as you came down from your high. As the haze of your orgasm cleared, you came to the horrifying realization that he still wasn’t done with you yet; the feeling of his mouth against you sending bolts of sensation through you like a hot knife. 

You once again thrashed helplessly against your restraints, crying out as you fruitlessly attempted to clamp your legs shut to stop his onslaught. He was having none of that though, and your efforts were met with a snarl as he wrenched your thighs open once more so he could continue. 

"Papa, Papa please, please Papa" you begged him, your voice hoarse as your eyes began to well with tears. He leaned back for a moment to consider you, giving you a momentary reprieve from the burning pleasure he was giving you. 

"Do you need to use your word, amore?" he asked, considering you seriously. 

"No Papa," you replied, tearfully but honestly. 

"Then you will give me one more," he said sternly, beginning to lightly apply pressure to your oversensitive clit with his gloved thumb. Your hips stuttered involuntarily in response, your body unsure if it wanted to move closer or further away from his ministrations. 

"I don't know if I can Papa," you whimpered, practically panting at this point. 

"You want to be good for me, yes? You want to please me?"

"Yes Papa."

"Then you will do as you are told," he demanded harshly, leaning in to lick you with a flat tongue. 

You whined in response, but didn't argue the issue any further, trying with all your might to relax into the sensation of his tongue laving over you. He continued lapping at you in broad strokes. Normally this would only serve to tease you, but in your current state even that was almost too much, you had to fight to keep yourself still for him. Your efforts did not go unnoticed. 

"You're being so good tesoro," Copia praised you inbetween licks. His praise reignited something within you, and you could feel something begin to build slowly in your core. 

"Oh, Papa," you whined, fully overwhelmed. "It's so much."

"Shhh, I know, dolce. Don't worry, Papa is going to help you," he said in mock sympathy. He brought two of his gloved fingers up to your opening, easily sliding them up within you. You cried out, clenching around the intrusion as he began to slowly pump them in and out fluidly, grazing your sweet spot each time. 

As he returned to lapping gently at your overstimulated clit, he gradually began to increase the speed at which he worked his fingers in and out of you. Very suddenly, you felt as though you were right back on the edge; the burning, gentle lapping of his tongue against your clit and his talented fingers repeatedly brushing up against that spot inside you proving to be just what you needed to get there. 

"Are you going to come for me now, dolce?" he asked, already knowing the answer.. 

"Yes, Papa, yes," you practically sobbed.

"Good, you're doing so good. Let go," he encouraged in a low, soothing voice. 

You didn't fall off the edge so much as you were yanked over, set fully adrift by the burning pleasure that ran through your full body as you clenched around his fingers. 

As you came back down to Earth you were vaguely aware of Copia releasing a shuddering moan against you; he had come against the bed from how he rutted against it as he had tormented you. You let out a weak whine at this realization. 

Copia only took a moment for himself to recover before he was crawling up the bed, reaching over you to release your wrists from their restraints. You let your arms flop back against the bed, feeling boneless after how he had worked you over. 

"You did so well for me my dear, so very good," he praised, brushing a stray hair back behind your ear. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and you hummed a happy sound into the kiss. 

As he pulled back, breaking the kiss, a small smile graced his expression, his eyes shone with adoration as he studied you for a moment. 

"How do you feel, amore?" he asked. 

"So good. And so tired," you mumbled, a sleepy grin plastered to your face.

"Is there anything you need, tesoro? Anything I can get you?"

In lieu of a verbal response you reached for him with grabby hands. He quickly got the hint, moving to lay beside you with an arm raised in offering. You wasted no time in snuggling up to him, burying your face in his chest as he brought his arm down around you to hold you.  You drifted to sleep in his arms, feeling sated, happy, and safe.

[v-ternus]

pebis 8=D

pebis you say? boy do i got a treat for you

// The new ghoul was certainly… something, and he’s sure clueless to what he does to a certain earth ghoul //

Corruption kink, praise, size kink (if you squint) and a nice handy in the common room for you to indulge in :)

Aeon loved his new pack, loved the way they took him and Aurora in so quickly. He especially loved the way they shared parts of themselves— Rain taught him how to swim, Cumulus and Cirrus spent a day watching the sky and clouds with him, showing him how you could tell storms were coming in. Probably the most nerve wracking of all, Dew showed him how to build up the campfires when they wanted to enjoy the cooler summer nights outdoors. Fires hurt, he had murmured when his hand got a little too close to the growing flames. He got to learn the word burn that day.

Besides the accidents with fires and forgetting that he can't breathe underwater, (thanks Rain), his favorite thing was what Mountain had to show him. 

He would’ve guessed that he’d show him the gardens around the abbey, or even take him for a walk through the forest that borders the land– something with his element, like the others had done. Instead, Mountain had led him into the common space one day and told him to get comfortable on the couch. He did as he was told, put himself down with his legs crossed under him and found a blanket to put down on his lap. Mountain was still in front of the TV when he heard a beep and quiet whirring. 

“It’s a console,” Mountain said, and Aeon could only give him a dumbfounded look. “This one’s a PS4, Swiss has an Xbox. You play videogames on them.” 

Aeon chirped, mumbled ok as Mountain started up Spiderman before handing him the controller. Mountain had shown him all the controls, taught him how to swing through New York and be the ‘friendly neighborhood Spiderman’.

Ever since that day, it's become their thing. Every Tuesday after they’ve finished their chores, they’ll play one of the handful of games that sit by the TV. Some days they pick a shooter, or maybe an RPG, sometimes even an old school player versus player. Whatever it is, Aeon always has fun, and Mountain always gets a kick out of watching his bug like eyes that stay trained on the colorful screen.

Today was no exception. Mountain already had Call of Duty started up as Aeon finished his work. 

“Zombies?” Aeon asked as he walked in and dumped himself onto the free space next to Mountain on the couch. Mountain didn't answer, didn't need to. He just picked the mode and handed Aeon his controller. Their afternoons were always easy like this, with little words spoken besides when they were deciding on a game. 

Besides the groaning undead and hellfire sounds of bullets and grenades, they were quiet, both lost in the world. 

Until they weren't. 

Between rounds, when no shots were echoing through the room, Aeon could hear it. 

Mountain’s little coughs, muffled groans and heavy breaths. 

“You ok Mount?” He asked before the next hoard of zombies came around, only giving a passing glance out of his peripheral. He should’ve known then, when Mountain took awhile to offer a noncommittal grunt. Yeah, —m good.

It only got worse from there. The earth ghoul seemed more and more restless with each round. He kept rearranging himself, tugging on his pants, stretching his legs. 

The new ghoul had had enough. He quit the game, quickly before Mountain could realize, set his controller on the table and turned to face him. 

“Come on,” he whined, drawing out the words like a child. “Tell me.”

Mountain sighed heavily as he set his controller down and rested his arms on his knees, hunching himself over the tent in his pants that’s been quickly growing ever since they started. 

He keeps his eyes trained to the floor, knowing that fully taking the little ghoul in would have him aching for friction. With a wave of his hand, he finally breaks the silence, “—m hard.”

He can feel Aeon’s questioning gaze on him, like it’s burning a hole through his body. The words are too slurred, mumbled dismissively. He knows Aeon didnt hear him, so much to his dismay, he repeats himself. 

“Im hard,” he says, clearly this time, finally finding the strength to look at Aeon— what a mistake. He takes in the sly tilt of his head, swallows up the look on his face. He can see the gears turning behind the soft lilac eyes that still feel like they’re staring daggers. 

“Hard?”

“Hard.” Mountain mouths through gritted teeth, growing harder as the seconds go by. He’s sure he’d find a sticky mess right over his tip if he looked down. 

“An erection. Stiffy. A hard on, if you will.”

The words float in the air, heard, but not understood. Once Mountain realizes, shame washes over him. Mountain shouldn't be enjoying this the way he is. 

“What does it mean?” The innocence all but knocks the air out of his lungs, and so does the notion of explaining an erection. Where does he start? What words can describe it?

Oh yeah. It just happens because all I can think about is the way my fingers could touch if I grabbed you by the waist. My dick starts to ache when a sliver of your skin shows as you reach for something on the table. No biggie really. 

“It uhhhhh… happens when I'm attracted to someone.” Worst fucking choice of words ever. Literally anything else would’ve been better. But he’s thinking with his other head now, there’s no room for anything more coherent— what’s said is said. 

“Attracted?” Satan below this ghoul was going to kill him. He’s gotta be playing dumb, right?

“Yeah, attracted,” He tries to breathe, tries to put his urges to the side. “Means I like them.”

Aeon moves closer to Mountain, till his knees are pressed to his outer thigh. He sits back on his haunches and rests his hands palm side down on his legs. His excitement is palpable, Mountain can almost taste it. 

“Does that mean you like me?” His voice pitches up, animated and fun. Mountain can only nod. He should use his words, lie and tell him no, but he cant figure out why his tongue wont move. Regardless, the answer had Aeon sporting a wide grin, he’s got pride written across his features. Mountain likes me! His inner voice cheers. 

“Then I can help you, right?”

Oh the doe eyed innocence. Too kind for his own good. He shouldnt ruin him. Not like this. But he’s too sweet. Mountain has no choice, he cant help it. 

“Yeah, want me to show you how?” Aeon nods enthusiastically and Mountain finally relaxes and leans back onto the couch, spreading his legs just so. His problem is obvious now, pressed up tight against the seam of his boxers, pre leaking through and darkening the light wash of his jeans. Aching to have Aeon’s pretty hands wrapped around him. 

“I need help pulling it out bug,” he feigns incompetence as he stretches his arms over the arm and back of the couch. 

“Undo my pants for me,” he says gently. Aeon reaches over and gets to work, moving deft fingers over stiff denim. Its weird undoing pants from this angle, and Mountain is loving the struggle. 

“Pull my boxers down,” Obedient as the day he was summoned, Aeon follows. He hooks a finger under the waistband and slowly pulls down and out of the way, just enough for Mountain’s dick to spring out and curve against his stomach. The pre that smears onto his shirt is a problem for later. 

Mountain finally gives himself relief, wraps his hand around the base and holds gently. It's just enough to take the edge off. He looks at Aeon who’s fixed on the way his hand holds his cock. 

“Give me your hand little one,” he takes Aeon hand in his free hand and laces their fingers together, his hand almost covering Aeon’s entirely with the way its spread across the back. 

“Ready?” He asks, as if Aeon is the one that needs to be ready. Mountain thinks he might cum the second he brings their hands down. 

He was dangerously close to his prediction, the little warmth from his hand against his aching cock was better than he could have imagined. It had his stomach in knots faster than he’d like to admit. 

Stilling himself, he drags their hands along slowly, wanting to savor each touch, twisting over the ruddy tip that’s been leaking pre. 

“It’s sticky,” Aeon remarks the first time his fingers glide over Mountain’s slit. It’s cute really, the way he remarks so simply.  

“Yeah bug, it’s cause you’re making it feel really good.” A pit of guilt brews in Mountain’s gut, he shouldn't be doing this, not when the ghoul is so fresh, but it’s not his fault Aeon always eyes him up. It’s certainly not his fault the little ghoul has him chubbing up in his pants whenever he’s around. 

“I can do it on my own I think.” Aeon looks at Mountain with a slight smile, and Mountain answers by just taking his hands away. Wordless, easy, just like their regular Tuesday afternoons. 

He watches in awe as another slight hand wraps itself around him and strokes just as slow as before. Any other day he’d be upset with the teasing, but today? He’ll let the young ghoul do as he pleases, he is just learning after all.

Unknowing as he is, he’s doing well, very well. He knows how tight to squeeze, knows that Mountain loves to have mean fingers press into the spot right under the head, as if by magic. Maybe it is, he thinks, but Mountain sets that thought aside for later. 

He’s never fought this hard to not cum. He doesnt want it to be over, no matter how much he aches and throbs. The only things he lets free are the sweet sounds that are being drawn out of him. Aeon responds with hums, and before long, he’s purring, rumbling in his chest. 

“Do you like touching it, little one?” He studies the focused look on Aeon’s face. 

“I think so… I can feel it moving.” Moving, Mountain laughs, knowing his cock has been twitching in Aeon’s soft grip for what feels like hours. Each time he looks down, he feels himself throb with the way his hand barely covers half of his length. 

“It feels very good bug. You’re doing so well, being so helpful.” He chokes on the last syllable as Aeon thumbs at the slit, letting a string of pre stretch as he pulls away. There’s more now, slick dripping down onto his pants. He could practically hear everyone’s teasing if any of them came waltzing into the common room. 

Almost wetter than a water ghoul Mounty, all ‘cause the new ghoul has his hands on you.

Dirty Mountain, ruining our new summon like this. What would Papa think?”

Letting Aeon get you like this for all of us to see? Doesnt take much to undo you sprout. 

The thoughts get him too close to the edge, the fire growing in his gut burning too hot. He’s not going to last much longer at this rate. His eyes drift shut as he tries to pull himself back from plummeting to his finish. 

“Mount, why is it bigger?” 

Oh whatever peace he found is quickly washed away. Mountain peels his head off of the couch to look at Aeon, before letting his eyes drift down. 

“This…” Aeon’s voice trails off as he cups the base of Mountain’s cock where his knot is starting to form. “Bigger”

Fuck. It's not something he thought he’d ever have to say out loud. He’s not even at his fullest yet, and it's already filling Aeon’s hands. He tries to not think about how good it’ll feel when he squeezes it, but he can’t help but thrust up into the pressure that threatens to push him over the edge.

“Its my knot. Helps me stay inside, helps me stay close when I like someone.” The words arent perfect ,not by a longshot, they barely scratch the surface of what it is, but it seems good enough for Aeon who just hums as he keeps working his hands over Mountain's cock. 

“Would you like to knot me?” That’s it. 

“Someday little one,” he doesnt mean for it, but it comes out ragged, louder and harsher than before. He swears he sees worry, maybe even fear splash across Aeon’s face. He wears it so well. 

To hell with drawing this out, he thinks, he needs to finish. Desperately wanting to paint his spend on the fingers that hold him so tenderly, he finds the words to get Aeon just how he needs him.

“Help me with this first hmm?” Aeon nods as Mountain reaches for him and gets him to straddle his legs. He wraps his hands Aeon’s and fucks into their grip, twitching as Aeon squeezes on the down strokes. 

“Keep going just like that,”

“Watch it, watch how good you’re doing” He’s rambling and he doesnt care. He needs it now, worse than ever. He brings a hand up and cradles Aeon’s face, dragging his slick covered thumb across flush skin. He looks at him like he hung the stars. Mindlessly, he leans forward for a kiss, its soft and slow. He can tell Aeon doesnt know what to do, but it just makes it that much more enticing. 

“Put your hands around my knot little one, hold it nice and tight for me. Can you do that?” 

“I’ll try,” he mumbles against Mountain’s lips. His hands find their way around the growing base of Mountain’s dick and squeezes, just like he said. He watches as a hand keeps stroking, making wet noises as another pays special attention to the head, and before long, white ropes of Mountain’s cum coats their fingers and drips down his length

Mountain cums with a sharp breath. He’s sure he blacked out with the way his ears are ringing. As if by magic again, he can feel Aeon tightening and loosening his grip, milking him dry, making sure to get everything he has to give. 

“Good boy, Aeon” he says as he throws his head back, breathless and floaty, leaving the curve of his neck open to the ghoul in his lap. Curious, Aeon drags his tongue up the damp skin and groans at the taste of Mountain. If Mountain wasn't already sitting, the feeling would've had him dropping to the floor. 

“Can I taste it?” Aeon asks as he holds his messy fingers up between them, wet with pre and striped with cum. 

Mountain goes stupid and gives a quick grunt. Yes please, he practically screams the words in his head. He feels his dick pitifully try and fill out again as Aeon mouths at his fingers, sucking the cum off and taking in the heady taste of Mountain. 

Mountain watches as Aeon swallows him down.

“Salty”

[mancer-in-the-abbey]

So quintessence, right? I know that we as a fandom play fast and loose with what quintessence does and what quintessence ghouls are capable of. So far I’ve seen healing, telepathy, mind control/hypnosis, calming emotions, even body modification.

And yet, I also see quintessence characterized with having to do with stars and space and shit. Hell, I myself love the starry aesthetic with the quint ghouls.

So having said that, might i suggest a different avenue that Quintessence magic might manifest: gravity manipulation

Consider Aether’s little hops he does getting higher and higher in the air the more excited he gets!

Consider Omega making gravity push harder on himself so he can win a bet against Alpha who is fruitlessly trying to knock him over!

Imagine sleeping in the same bed as Phantom and waking up in the middle of the night to find your cuddle buddy floating 5 feet in the air, having taken all of the blankets with him!

Quintessence gravity shenanigans. Work with me on this, i think I’m onto something

[sophiasharp]

Thinking about how much of an anomaly Swiss is and how much I love Jack of All Trades characters.

Because ghouls that are an even split of all 5 elements, up until Swiss, had been unheard of. Sure, hybrids are a thing that happen sometimes, just look at Sunny and Aurora, but all 5?

It had been previously theorized by the Ministry that the max amount of elements one ghoul could possess on the surface was 3; any more and the body would begin to deteriorate due to the strain of containing that much conflicting elemental power. That’s not to say such ghouls COULDN’T exist down in The Pit, but they likely wouldn’t survive the journey to the surface.

Which brings us back to Swiss. Swiss, the living contradiction to all the Ministry thought they knew. Swiss, the type of ghoul never before seen on Earth or in Hell. Swiss, who could light your smoke one minute and chill your drink the next.

However, such great power has its limits. For example, while, yes, he could do both of those things one after the other, he is incapable of doing them both at once, forced to focus on one element at a time.

His natural abilities are also not quite as strong as those of someone born purely of that element. In order to reach even close to that level requires an intense amount of concentration and energy that simply isn’t sustainable for long periods of time.

This limitation gets to him some days more than others. Some days, he feels more like a cheep knock-off of a ghoul than anything else- like someone’s amateur interpretation of one. It’s an easy argument to make, given that’s how he survived in The Pit: pretending to be a full elmental ghoul and joining an established pack until the truth caught up with him and he was forced to leave and wander till the cycle could start anew.

Even though it’s been years now since he’d left The Pit and found a family that accepts him for exactly what he is, it still gets hard some days not to feel like somewhat of a fraud- like he’s tricked them all into loving a version of himself that was somehow better than he really is and it’ll only be a matter of time before they find him out and it’s back to square one down in the hellfire below.

Thankfully, his pack has gotten good at noticing when he’s too far in his own head and can remind him of just how sincerely loved and appreciated he is. It’s most days now where he gleefully tousles Rain’s hair with a gust of wind before warming up the coffee that had gone cold in its pot. It’s most days where he good-naturedly pesters Mountain in his greenhouse while going from plant to plant to water them and offer some earthly coaxing of growth. It’s most days where he can tune into the same quintessence frequency as Aether and Aeon and make sure neither were overextending themselves.

Yes, Swiss would say he is very proud of what he could do for his pack.

After all, a Jack of all trades and master of none is far greater still than a master of one.

(It appears my brand new side blog has been immediately yeeted into the shadow realm upon creation so I’m having to repost this here 😅 if you didn’t know, I’m moving my ghost headcanons to @mancer-in-the-abbey . Idk when it’ll get to see the light of day but hopefully it will soon!)

[ragequeen94]

NSFW of the Papas looking their virginity?? ....don't judge I'm a simple ho w simple dreams. ❤️❤️❤️

You are doing the dark lords work

CW ... not all of these are happy and cute. I am an angst master so... you know. Enjoy.

Primo

Primo lost his virginity in a ritual. It was his choice. He had been asked if he had wanted to pledge himself to the church now that he was a young man. It was the choice of all, not a requirement. He had been paired with a sister who was a little older than him, so was experienced and kind, she had made him feel safe under the statue of Lucifer with Lillith. She had held him and let him take his time. Nothing but kindness and love and passion. He loved every second. And in the morning she had been so sweet to him, she had sat with him at breakfast and giggled and pet his hair. The other girls of the abbey fawned over him, now that he had opened himself up to carnal blessings it was open season. No one was ever as special to him as his first, and he liked that he had had the experience and done it on his terms, and he loved that he was blessed to have the option. Now he worshiped at the altar of Babylon often, almost every night, and sometimes he was blessed to be chosen as the first for someone the younger congregates, and he treated them, man or woman, with the same care and love he had been given. Love begets love, this are the teachings of his church.

Secondo

He had been born angry. He got it from his mother, he was sure. At least thats what Primo had said, their mother had a vengeful temper. He wouldn’t know. Whatever anger she had when she had birthed him she had put it into him, and then left him. His life was a weird mix of rage at the world and rage at himself. So when he was too young he went out on his own and found himself someone who didn't care how old he was, or if he was okay, or even his name. The night he lost his virginity he hadn’t even been kissed, not for real. A sleazy tumble with a drunk woman in the bathroom of a bar. He had returned home even angrier than before, he took it out on his brothers for a while, then everyone else. He didn't know why he had this anger, he didn't know why he always hurt, he didn’t know why he couldn't let himself cry. He didn’t know why no one wanted to hold him. 

Terzo

Terzo put himself in situations he wasn’t always ready for. He would man up and then dig himself a deeper hole. Its how he was. So when he at the age of 16 found himself in a room of giggling sisters. He steeled himself and flirted back with the women. They were dancers in his brothers show, Papa Primo. The sisters had snuck the cute little brother into their changing room and offered him wine and chocolate, he had fed them strawberries and whispered to them in italian. The American girls loved when he spoke italian. He literally rambled nonsense and they blushed and twirled in their skirts. Then one of them had taken his jaw in her hand and kissed him, then giggled like it hadn't happened, then another girl did the same thing. She kissed him and giggled, he turned back around and the first girl had taken off her shirt, she grabbed his hand and put it on her breast. The girls were giggling, he was shaking. One of the girls climbed on top of him and pushed him on his back. It kept going like that, and he didn’t want it to stop. At least that's what he thought, he still wasn’t sure… but he had been scared and confused and embarrassed. Backstage at his brothers concert, with girls way more experienced than him, playing their games. They probably didn't even think about how young he was… 

Copia

Copia was way older than he would like to ever admit. If someone asked him he’d say he lost his virginity to his girlfriend when he was 18 in an uneventful romp after a teenage sweetheart romance. 

The truth was he was a virgin until he was 29 years old. At first it hadn't seemed like a big deal, he was pretty isolated in life and a lot of the people around him were older, way older than him and weren't interested in anything romantic he might have to offer. Then when he was a little more free he had tried a few times but his awkwardness and immaturity hadn't been too attractive, and he was a little but to unaware of his introvert behavior to realize when he was ignoring someone. He was so focused on his church duties by his mid twenties that sex seemed like some weird concept. He read about it, spoke about it; but for some reason it was this kind of… other worldly thing that happened to other people or in fantasy. he felt things like lust obviously, it was a major cornerstone of everything he believed in… but he had never practiced it. His loneliness was the worst part. As he neares thirty he longed to hold someone in his sleep, To have someone card their fingers through his hair, to be kissed on the cheek. He found himself starting to look at the congregation in a way he hadn't in a while… he just wasn't sure how to get someone to… like him. He knew as cardinal he could probably just ask any sister to join him in his bed and it would happen… but the guilt of the power dynamics stopped him. He hid himself away but desired to be pursued. It didn't help that he lied to anyone who did inquire about his sexual history. He told them the teenage story and admitted to it having been a while. So no one knew he even had a virginity to claim.

But none of that mattered.

Because Papa Secondo had degreed the church start celebrating Lupercalia again, in the way of the old tradionions to honor his ascension. And it involved the members of the clergy authority to perform a rather tedious sex ritual. 

No one asked copia if he was comfortable or interested and he was too anxious about the while thing to speak up in his defense. So he found himself dressed in a red robe, naked, at an altar with a naked woman in a mask Spread before him and the entire congregation. He thanked hell below that he had caught Terzo swallowing some blue pills before the ritual and had been offered some without being asked. His cock was more than ready, and to be honest it was better if he didn't take too long. He wasn't the first man to have offered unholy communication at the altar of Babylon that night… and wouldn't be the last. He wanted it over.

So he did his duty. His virginity gone, to a mystery woman he would never know, and who would never know what she had taken, infront of everyone he had ever known. He cried himself to sleep that night… hugging his pillow to his chest.

[thelampisaflashlight]

The ghouls, but I revamped my headcanons about them, because why not? Let's go.

-Aether, Dewdrop, and Mountain were brought into the church around the same time, but Dew arrived first, making him the "eldest" of the three ghouls... while also, coincidentally, being just slightly older than both Aether and Mountain in actual age as well.

Of the three of them, Mountain is the peacekeeper, Aether, much to the shock of many, is the troublemaker (he enjoys picking fights with people who are being jerks), and Dew is the thinker.

-Cumulus and Cirrus were summoned around the same time Swiss was brought into the pack. Having been raised on the surface by his mortal father, Swiss didn't really have much of a connection to his demonic side until he found the church, but even then, he had a lot of trouble adapting to life there.

Thankfully, both of the ghoulettes were more than happy to take him under their wing and teach him all the fun parts of being a ghoul.

He looks up to them in the same way one might look up to an older sibling, and he treats them both with respect as both his mentors and his friends.

-Rain was summoned during a rare thunder snowstorm towards the end of winter, which resulted in him developing an odd ability to control electricity. Usually, lightning is seen as a fire/air based element and can only really be harnessed by multi-elemental ghouls, like Swiss or Aurora, but Rain is, in so far as he knows, pure water.

He mostly uses this ability to hunt fish in the lake, charge his phone or laptop, or as the occasional self defense mechanism, because why would he throw a punch when he can effectively taser someone with his fingers?

-Dew, like Swiss, was born and raised on the surface, and grew up leading a normal, human existence until he fell to his death while lost in the woods surrounding the abbey during a thunderstorm.

His death lead to him landing himself in Limbo, where he was given a second chance at life (at a cost, of course) and learned of his demonic inheritance.

Unlike Swiss, who found comfort in discovering his ghoul side, Dew felt deeply conflicted by it and did not immediately join the church, though he was allowed to stay largely because Terzo saw promise in his abilities (musically and magically) and encouraged him to stay.

-Aeon goes by both Phantom and Aeon, but it depends on who he's talking to/who is addressing him, kind of like how you might go by your middle name with friends, but your parents call you by your first name.

For things like ministry paperwork and meetings with important figures, he's called Aeon, but amongst the pack, he's largely called Phantom or Tom-Tom as a nickname.

However, the name Aeon is also used by ghouls that are considered his "seniors", such as Aether and Omega who held his station before him, and Dew, because he refuses to call him Tom-Tom (and because he's old, but don't let anyone hear you say that).

-Cumulus is one of the only ghouls that maintains a home away from the abbey during the off season, and, as of right now, none of the other ghouls have been invited to stay there. It's nothing against any of them personally, Cumulus just likes having her own space that's truly hers, and she spends so much time around the others normally that she needs a break from them sometimes.

-Similarly, Dew has a habit of "wandering off", though he's usually just off on vacation, and, when in doubt, can typically be found simply by asking where he is.

Usually, he's not far from the abbey, as he tends to keep to his "territory" like a cat left to roam, but on the rare occasion he's broken containment (left the country entirely) he's like a ghost.

And lastly;

-Cirrus has been known to hang out in one of the many cemetery plots on the abbey's grounds, and has befriended an alarming number of spirits, who often tell her secrets and information about people who currently live on the grounds or passed there in some form or another.

Because of this, Cirrus knows things that could be devastating if revealed, so she has to be careful about not letting slip information that wasn't given to her by either the individual themselves and/or is already "common knowledge".

She's on incredibly bad terms with some of the abbey's residents as a result of letting slip personal details about their lives, even if she meant to use it as a means of defending them, and it has made it difficult for her to make friends outside of her packmates, which in turn results in her befriending more inhuman entities and ghosts.

[cryinglightning64]

Hope Is Lost

Summary: You left home to get away from the normalcy, only to end up in a foreign country not knowing that the world was beginning to end.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female (sorta nun) reader

A/N: this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic bc i cant seem to find any about him in france and if you have found any tag me plss 😭 i had to resort to making my own instead. lmk if anyone is even interested in a part 2 this is basically just a teaser i promise it will have smut if 1 person interacts with this. even if nobody interacts ima still post part 2 bc wtf am i doing hoarding this in my notes app.

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The first time you saw him you had a strange feeling about him. As if you knew who he was. As he floated on top of the boat that seemed to be capsized, a measly tied rope that hardly held his body to the boat, you weren't sure what his name was, but you had a gut feeling, you knew it had to be him. You thought back at the drawing that Laurent had made, two weeks ago.

You followed him, watched as the man washed up on the shore, confused, but seemingly determined.

The sisters might be right, you thought to yourself. Isabelle might be right.

You met Isabelle after the world began decaying, finding refuge at the convent. It wasn't really your first choice, staying at the convent, but in this world, beggars can't be choosers. You thought maybe immersing yourself into religion might help take your mind off everything that happened to you, everything going on outside.

Many of the nuns at the abbey didn't see you as one of them, despite you being there longer than some of them. You never were religious like the rest of them, which made everyone turn their heads away from you. Religion came easy to them, meanwhile with you, well, you hadn't given it much thought.

To this day it's still in the back of your mind, chipping away at you, the guilt of not being a big enough believer in God. How could you believe in a higher power if this is what the world has succumbed to? How could anything good let all the people you loved, cared about, die such gruesome deaths? Always a constant back and forth battle you had going on in your mind.

Sister Isabelle confided in you, telling you about Laurent, and how she needed to find someone to deliver him to Paris. The whole messiah thing seemed like such a crazy thing to wrap your head around, but you still offered your help in anyway you could. After all, you knew she would do anything for you and the rest of the nuns. That and you needed to get out of France. It was your one chance, you finally had a good enough reason to leave the abbey and try to

find your way back home.

Hanging up the small poster of the Union Isabelle made, you watched as the man with the wings on his back took an abandoned boat as his shelter for the night. Hopefully he would still be there by the time you got back tomorrow.

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"Isabelle, I am telling you, I saw him." you pleaded. The drawing sat in front you two on the table, barely visible due to the small lantern you held up.

"Je t'ai dit de ne pas y aller seul," Isabelle whispered, "I told you not to go alone out there, what if he had seen you? Or followed you?"

"He didn't, okay? Please Isabelle, I know what everyone here thinks about me and my faith, but I know it, he's the one that can help us take Laurent." you spoke quietly but urgently, as to not wake up the rest of the sisters.

"No, we know nothing of this man, maybe he is already out there walking amongst the dead, or worse, he might just be here to steal from us and kill us all. You will not go back out there, especially alone, do you understand?" Isabelle spoke, her hand coming to rub her forehead, smoothing the frown lines forming.

Sighing, you nod your head, peering down at the drawing.

"Good, now get some sleep." Isabelle turned away, heading back to sleep.

Even if deep down, you didn't believe that Laurent was the messiah, and that the man in the boat was the man from the drawing, you still had the need to find out more about this man.

The next morning you came back to where you had last seen the man, hoping he was still out there.

You watched and followed as he got up and began packing his things, setting out to wander the land.

You also saw how he had got himself into trouble with the young woman and older man, seeing how he fought off the men from the Pouvoir des Vivants, as best as he could. You watched from a distance until you saw how they robbed him blind, injuring him long enough for them to get away.

You ran up to him, kneeling before watching him pass out from the blows to the head and quite probably the dehydration.

You carried, or more so, dragged his limp body to your small carriage you brought with you, hoping he wouldn't be what Isabelle said he might be.

You were dreading having to explain to Isabelle why you had brought this man to the abbey after she so explicitly told you not to engage with him, let alone bring him into your homes.

"Qu'est-ce que je t'ai dit? Why did you have to bring him back here?" Isabelle raised her eyebrows at you as she held the hot poker towards his arm.

"Perdóname, no supe que hacer, I had no choice he was injured" you said and you rounded to the opposite side of the bed.

"Hold his arm down, and cover his mouth." Isabelle said as she looked at you with a glare you were sure was the maddest you have ever seen her.

He screamed and writhed and she held the hot metal to his arm where the undead had burned him with acid.

His grunts and pained yelling made something inside you feel horrible, the pain he was in almost made you feel as terrible as it seemed to pain him.

His anguished face combined with the peaceful singing of the nuns down the hall swarmed your senses, until he coughed and passed out once more.

"Listen to me, I know you didn't mean for all this to happen, I get that, and I understand he was hurt. But you better pray that he will be able to deliver Laurent, it's what he needs, deserves." Isabelle said after she wrapped the man's arm, who you had come to learn his name was Daryl Dixon.

"I will, Isabelle. I'll make it my life's mission to get that boy to Paris." you said quietly as to not wake up Daryl, who had begun to snore softly in the bed below you.

"Very well. Now help me prepare the bath for him, he's going to need it once he wakes up." Isabelle walked away to fetch a kettle of water to fill up the bath.

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a/n: yall pls dont be mad i tried my best i know its shitty writing but i dont have anything to lose.

also im open to suggestions or if you guys wanna see a certain trope or scene play along u tell me ill do my best to make it come true on paper 😪

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

Love, Eternal // [Part IV]

Pairing | Phantom x Sister!Reader

Word count | 1385

⚠️ Warnings | Reader uses she/her pronouns, (y/n) is used once. There is a ritual scene. TW for murder ghouls, blood, injuries, assault, violence, and death.

Plot Summary: Today was Phantom's summoning day, a special occasion akin to a birthday. Eager to surprise him with a homemade cake, you realize you're missing ingredients and head into town. On the way back, you encounter trouble with some members of the Catholic church that changes the course of your life in the Ministry - and with Phantom - forever.

A/N: I TOLD YOU IT HAS A HAPPY ENDING! This is the last part! Thank you so much for reading this far, I hope it was an enjoyable read. Much love 🖤 xo Emery

[Prev]

Phantom returned a short while later, Swiss and Dew silently trailing him. The poor ghoul was absolutely overcome with grief. Once he found you in the driveway, he could immediately smell the putrid odour of the men who did this to you, their scents still fresh on your beaten body.

When he left the Ministry he had no thoughts but revenge. It was easy for him to pick up on their scent once he was outside, his abilities and senses heightened in his manic state. 

Swiss and Dew knew better than to interrupt a ghoul on a warpath, so they kept their distance, allowing Phantom to do what needed to be done. Sometimes his packmates had wondered how he ever survived in the pit, his trademark traits of being approachable and kind didn’t fly down there.

However, as his fangs elongated and his claws unglamoured, Phantom was quickly proving to all that he was a ghoul from hell after all; mindlessly pulling the first unfortunate soul apart with ease, Swiss and Dew watched proudly as the young ghoul forced the vile human to choke on his internal organs.

Phantom had begun his hunt.

Walking slowly back to the Abbey, Phantom began to come back to earth. His mind was riddled with thoughts of what he could have done differently; maybe he shouldn’t have skipped so many lessons with Aether to spend time with you, maybe he should’ve asked Omega more questions about what his Quintessence could do before he was sent away.

Lost in his thoughts, he began to weep. The thought of losing you and ultimately failing his older brothers, the thought of realizing you were his mate and never getting the chance to tell you. It was almost too much for Phantom to endure.

The blood smearing across his face as he wiped away his tears only made him cry harder. He was covered in as much blood as you were, the only difference being none of it was his. What’s done was done. He was a murderer now. No better than the vermin he just effortlessly dispatched. Phantom knew they would get a special greeting in hell, and that fact brought him a fleeting sense of relief.

He needed to see you one last time. He made his way back up to the main ritual room where he knew Copia would still be with you, but he never could’ve imagined what would be waiting for him once he got there. Rain and Mountain were already inside, the arrangements long forgotten. Dew and Swiss made their appearances known as they stepped behind the young ghoul who had been stopped in the doorway.

“I need to see her, Papa. Please. Just once.”

Copia silently signalled Dew and Swiss closer. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Excuse me?” The fury in Phantom’s eyes quickly returned.

Copia knew better than to get in the way of an angry ghoul, learning his lesson as a child growing up with Alpha, but he stood fast. “Phantom, there’s something you need to know–“

However, the young Quint was hearing none of it as he pushed past Copia and wiggled out of his brothers' grasp.

What he found as he entered further into the room was exactly what he expected: you. What he didn’t expect to see was you… alive? This must have been a dream. He shut his blood stained eyes once, and then twice. You were right in front of him, now sitting between Rain and Mountain in the same place he watched you die - where he felt you die.

What he felt now was something familiar, yet completely new.

Rain had already washed the blood off your face and found you one of the ghoulette’s spare outfits while Mountain had tied up your hair in a ghoulish fashion. Phantom’s brain couldn't compute what he was seeing as he moved cautiously toward where you sat on the ground, still too weak to stand.

Your skin had turned to a violet grey, similar to Phantom’s. Your nails had grown into beautiful claws, and fangs extended where your canines used to be. Your hair turned to a dark blue that almost matched Rain’s, with lighter patches of skin decorating your hairline and cheeks like scales. Phantom noticed your ears were sharp and pointed like Dew's, with the skin at the tip a dark red.

Phantom fell to his knees in front of you, speechless and in awe.

“How–” 

It was like he was looking at an angel gifted from hell. You were one of them now. His beautiful ghuleh, with pieces of all the brothers who helped save you.

When you looked up at Phantom from your place between the two ghouls (who were now your brothers too), Phantom couldn’t contain his tears any longer. Though these were not the tears of sadness and grief from before, these were tears of bewilderment and relief. He didn’t notice at first, but you had the same lighter patch over your eye as he did. Your left eye was a gorgeous shade of ice blue, contrasting the darker grey of the other one. It reminded him of Papa.

“Phantom?”

You were taken aback slightly at the sight of the friendliest ghoul you knew, kneeling in front of you covered in blood from head to toe. He chuckled slightly at the lisp you had when you called his name, not used to your fangs yet. You had extra long ones too, thanks to Swiss. If he was in any other situation, Phantom would've found it incredibly hot.

“If I had known, I would’ve washed up.” He said, looking down at his bloodied attire. His brothers moved aside so Phantom could wrap you in a hug that he never wanted to leave, eager to have your new scent permanently etched onto his soul. “I’m here. I’m never leaving you again.”

The two of you sat like that for a while, your newly heightened senses almost becoming overwhelmed with 5 ghouls and Copia all in the same room. However, if you focused on Phantom, everything felt calm and quiet. You felt safe, wondering if this is how he felt every time he was with you.

You didn’t really know what happened. One minute you were struggling to breathe outside after getting ambushed, the next you had died. Rain and Mountain gave you the Coles notes version of what happened when you awoke. None of which you remembered. You don’t remember much of your time in the pit either. There were ghouls everywhere and it was warm, but not unbearable like you had come to fear it would be. There was one thing you did remember from your time down below though…

“Hey,” you said, as you pushed Phantom off you to look him in the eye. Normally that would’ve been impossible, but you’d worry about that weirdness later. “The devil says Happy Birthday.”

Phantom smiles wider than you have ever seen and places his forehead on yours before desperately, but lovingly, crashing his lips on yours.

“Let’s see Jesus do THAT.” Dew blurts out, completely ruining the tender moment, but not a soul in this room could care as everyone lets out a laugh.

“My dear ghuleh,” Copia says softly, approaching as Phantom helps you to your feet. “You don’t have to choose right now, but in light of your new situation, if there is perhaps a new name you feel is better suited? I can make arrangements on your behalf.”

“Eris.” You spoke as you leaned into Phantom’s touch. “Like the goddess of chaos, cause that’s exactly how this all feels.”

Copia smiled warmly, “Then welcome back to the Ministry, Eris.”

Standing behind you, Phantom cradled you protectively in his arms, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “It’s perfect.”

Copia and your new family left you to get reacquainted. You returned the affection as you twisted to hug your lover once again, relishing in the sweetest scent you had ever experienced as you began to involuntarily rub your cheek over his chest. You were starting to realize what the ghouls meant about the scent thing, Phantom’s was intoxicating and you never wanted to leave. It was like he was made just for you.

“So… I guess no cake then, huh?” Phantom snickers as he leaves soft kisses behind your ear before continuing down your neck.

You quickly pulled away from his embrace. “That was supposed to be a surprise!”

His hands interlocked and rested along the base of your spine. His amused gaze lovingly met the look of disappointment on your face before you let out a frustrated ‘ugh!’ and headbutted his chest.

“Ow!” He yelped. “Sweetheart you’ve got horns now, and apparently Dew gave you some flippin’ pointy ones too.”

“Oops.”

You looked up at Phantom sympathetically, your tail suddenly making an appearance and wrapping around his leg.

“You got my tail though,” he winked.

“My darling ghoul, you have all of me. My heart, my life, and my love, eternally.”

[Prev]