spiritsirenscreamer - Tumblr blog

[spiritsirenscreamer]

Sweet fuckballs.

I haven't been very active here.. WELP. IM ALIVE. WORKS BEEN BEATING MY ASS.

[spiritsirenscreamer]

ⓘ You can Bite your Friends.

[spiritsirenscreamer]

Yes, yes we do.

I desperately need someone to animate Lucifer from hazbin hotel dancing to single ladies by Beyonce.

Please.

I beg of you.

(Tumblr, do your thing. Pls.)

[spiritsirenscreamer]

I desperately need someone to animate Lucifer from hazbin hotel dancing to single ladies by Beyonce.

Please.

I beg of you.

(Tumblr, do your thing. Pls.)

[spiritsirenscreamer]

CALL IN SICK

Soft!Task Force 141 x Reader  

A/N: This is my first fanfic and the characters might be too OOC. I hope is good.  

ALSO: I sprinkled some praise ;3  

Word Count: 3.2k  

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After a mission gone wrong in an undisclosed location Task Force 141 is forced to stay in a safe house, a cabin, in the middle of a dense forest and high between the mountains. It is no task for the team but unfortunately for you. You were injured.  

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Ghost and you were paired together on this mission. It was supposed to be a “quick in and out” mission but as you were following behind Ghost; and heard him say something on the radio. You could not hear what he said. Your radio had been broken by getting hit by the butt of a gun but nothing you couldn’t handle you took care of it no problem. As both of you entered the room, the door suddenly slammed behind you and the lights were shut off leaving you on a disadvantage you were surrounded by armed men and Ghost was the first one to react, shooting with precise accuracy men started to fall left and right. Using the flashing lights, movement, and your hearing, you followed in suit shooting with Ghost, you were already pulling the trigger before you can properly aim, and the room quickly became deathly still, before you could even get out a sigh of relief it came out as a gasp of pain. You were attacked from behind because you felt it before you saw it. With his aim, Ghost’s shot went straight through the head. "Bullseye!" You called out watching the body slumped near your feet. You gasped at the shock at how much effort you needed to speak. Looking down at your hand pressing on the side of your torso seeing how both your shirt and hand start turning into a deep red. Ghost is on you, lifting your shirt enough just to see how bad your wound is. "I'll live. Been through worse," you say nonchalantly trying not to make it sound like a big deal. "Captain, Scorpion has been stabbed and her wound is not life-threatening but needs medical attention." A line of 'what's' responded to Ghost. "Repeat that again Ghost." Soap said. "Scorpion has been stabbed but she won't die" Repeated Ghost. "I won't die but Holy Jesus! It hurts like a motherfu--"you groaned out and getting cut off by Price announcing, "Everyone regroup on the Eastside of the church." Ghost motioned towards you moving to wrap your left arm around his shoulders and with his sheer size you are lifted enough for you to start to tiptoe when walking. Flinching and wincing every few steps, you start leaning most of your body weight onto Ghost. "Atta girl almost there, we just need to cross the hallway, so we can patch you up." Ghost said with a hint of concern. You would tease him about it if the doors adjacent to the hallway toward the church hadn’t busted open to show a very panicked Soap. "They're here!" Soap yelled back to the team, took your right arm, wrapped it around his shoulders, and put pressure on your wound, causing you to hiss out, "I thought you could handle it." Soap teased. "Shut it." You remarked back. Now with the height difference, they are basically dragging you down the aisle toward Gaz and Price. They laid you down on the floor. "I thought it wasn't going to be this bad," Gaz gasped after looking at your gash, blood was still spilling at an alarming rate "This needs medical attention, and we need to return to the medic-bay." "About that..." Price uttered, catching the attention of everyone "Our exfil can't be processed due to our location and weather." “What the hell! What do you mean by that!” Soap shouted. “Have you seen the weather outside? It is a blizzard out there!” Price countered, pointing out through a broken stained glass. A voice was heard on Price’s radio, “Price, this is Laswell we have noticed movement towards your location. Estimation around 50-100 men. Unless you want your team to perish, I say you start moving toward the safe house up north-west from the graveyard.” “Copy that Laswell. Gaz try your best to stabilize Scorpion so we can all move out. I know that you are more than capable of neutralizing the enemy, but I don’t want another injury if we don’t have a fast form of transportation out of these mountains.”  

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No matter how much you get them you’ll never get used to the feeling of someone stitching you up with no anesthesia still sends a shiver down your spine. You were grunting as Gaz tried to make the process less painful and fast as possible. Lifting your uniform enough to have your midriff exposed so he could wrap the medical gauze around your body. “Come on. Up you go!” Soap grunted as he pulled you up onto your feet. “Careful with her if not I'll do you worst than what she has!” Ghost grunts out before turning back to you “Are you okay?” he asked in a hushed whisper. “I’m okay. We need to move out before the weather gets worse,” you replied. “Can you walk without support?” asked Gaz with outstretched arms as if you were to fall without notice. “I think I can manage.” you breathe out walking with a limp “Yeah...yeah, I think I can manage. Price how long is the walk," you questioned. “Walking? Oh, Sweetheart from here to the safe house it's going to be a hike.” Price chuckled, removing his gaze from the stained glass, and turned to face you. “If you can’t handle it, I can always carry you like a princess and I’ll be your prince in shining armor.” Soap teased with a wink. Chuckling to yourself, you playfully punch his shoulder as a form of saying you’re going to be okay, and you were going to stick to yourself, and you start following behind Ghost and out the door walking through the graveyard with unmarked tombs.   

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“Facken Hell” Soap grunted, he was the first one to complain about the freezing weather as you and the team struggled to push through the almost knee-high snow. Ghost was at least kind enough to go in front of you unintentionally making a small path and making it a bit easier for you to walk. You have never been more grateful about his size more than today (not that you’ll ever admit it) and even with his help you still staggered behind. You haven't even started walking for 30 minutes and you felt like you just ran a marathon. You tried to even out your breathing thinking that you might be overreacting. You started giving yourself little motivation so you could keep up with the team. That was before your side felt like it was on fire, your body slowly started to get warm, and you started to slow down into a stop.  Gaz noticed that you had stopped walking and turned back to you. “Are you doing alright?” he asked, slowing his pace to stand next to you. “As much as I want to say I’m fine. I’m starting to feel a little lightheaded” you replied with gasps in between, holding your head with a hand on your forehead. You wanted to start walking again but your whole body seemed like it was underwater even though Gaz was next to you his voice started to sound muffled and far away. You decided that you wanted to push more, and you didn’t check your stepping and your foot slipped on a rock causing you to lose your balance. You were not able to stop yourself from both cushioning the fall and tumbling down a steep trench that you hadn't noticed until now and you landed face down and you swear you felt like someone has pressed a branding iron on your wound. You used the last bit of energy to roll yourself over onto your back staring up at the soft pearl clouds blanketing the whole sky, the subtle flickering of the snow glistening as they twisted and turned with their slow grace down to earth. It was a peaceful sight other than the blinding pain your body had to currently endure. Your vision was fighting to stay awake slowly blinking as 4 dark figures were running down the hill towards you, a stark contrast on the untouched snow. Price was the first one in your line of vision holding your head and through your blurred vision you see his mouth moving but you can’t hear anything other than the ringing in your ears. You try to focus your eyes on him, trying to understand what he is shouting to the rest of your team then your eyes started straining signifying that you were slowly losing your fight on staying conscious, letting your head loose, it tilted away from Price as you closed your eyes for a well-deserved break into the darkness.   

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A pounding in your head disrupted your sleep causing you to groan softly against a mattress. You slowly stretch yourself enough to feel the rough texture of the mattress grinding on your soft skin. You were relishing a few seconds to yourself before a cry broke out from your lips causing you to sit up quickly and your hands flying to the side of your torso.  As you were cradling your wound, a pair of hands were suddenly pushing you down by your shoulders. By instinct you tried to look for a way to defend yourself, that was until the hands on your shoulders managed to push you into the mattress, a soft shushing caught your attention. “Hey! Take it easy. Look at me. Breathe. It’s just me, Soap.’’ You relaxed on the mattress and looked around at your surroundings. It seems that the team had settled down into an abandoned cabin that consisted of a fireplace that was still covered in dust, probably not used in years and especially not now. You guessed because the smoke might give your location away if you were to build a fire. The lack of light caused you to try and look outside through the snow and frosted-covered glass plane, but it was still enough to confirm that it was dark outside. “What happened? It was barely noon last time I remember,” you asked absentminded. “Well... We heard that you started to slow down, and Gaz went to check on you and he did nothing to stop you from falling off the cliff.” Soap explained, raising his voice towards the end. “Hey! It just happened too fast and-” Before he could finish Soap hit him on the head and he sat down next to him leaving you alone and he started continuing what he was saying “You took a nasty fall and hit your head and you seemed out of it. Nothing big though, you’re just going to have to deal with a migraine for a while and you managed to rip your stitches apart. Gaz was able to secure them again, but you were out like a light. Ghost piggybacked you all the way over here!” he laughed.   

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You nodded slowly, seemingly lost in your mind. “She seems dazed, guess that fall took a lot more than we thought” Price noted watching as you weakly started to stand and slowly made your way to where Gaz and Soap were sitting and plopped down next to them.  Groaning out softly you curiously looked at your puff of condensed air. They all watched in silence as you giggled like a little girl then a shiver rolled down your spine you then did the unthinkable, since Soap was the nearest to you sat and curled up between Soap’s legs and cuddled your head into his shoulder. It seemed that the whole room froze towards your actions. You aren’t usually like this with your tough demeanor, you usually never asked for help, and even on the rare times you do ask for help you’ll be embarrassed and cuss them out as if the problem was somehow caused by them, and it was (at least to the team) weird to see you open to your actions.  You felt him tense up against you raising his hands as if he was being held at gunpoint, he was about to push you away until he hears you softly whine something he wasn’t going to hear if you weren’t so close. “Gosh, you’re so warm it's so cold in here.” You pulled up your hands to your mouth and let little puffs into them and rubbed them together.  You’re slowly settling down to rest again until Ghost’s voice broke the silence “You haven’t eaten all day. You need to eat something before sleeping again without food you won't heal as fast.’ You turned to face him as he sat silently in a dark corner and slightly opened one of your eyes and sheepishly shook your head saying no. “Jesus Christ you’re burning up there, lass, aren't you?” His hand suddenly came to rest on your forehead and Price gently rubbed the back of his hand onto your cheek muttering more to himself, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear “She’s running a fever.”  “Here make her drink a lot of water.” Ghost urges holding out a bottled water; Price takes the bottle from him and extends it to you. You once again shake your head. “Don’t you back away. Come on. It's just water.” ”Don't wanna” you replied. “Would you drink if I help you?” You said nothing this time. Price takes your silence as a yes. Confused, he carefully tested the waters by slowly tilting the bottled water to your lips allowing you to take small sips. After you finished half of the bottle he praises “That’s my girl.” He closes the bottle, places it on the floor, leans back, and sits silently.  After a few minutes, everyone continued to settle down, especially Soap since he was busy embracing and enjoying your warmth then one by one started noticing that your breathing came out as deep breaths. Gaz suddenly perks up and says, “She still has to eat too” Once again all their attention was now on you. Everyone stares at Soap and expects him to do something “What? Do you really think I’m going to wake her up just for her to eat?” he said defensively, subconsciously pulling you tighter into his chest and embrace.  

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“You know we have to.” Ghost sighs. “Not even 5 more minutes.” Soap said while shying away from the harsh stares of the team. Ghost forces Soap’s arms away from your body slowly and gently shaking your shoulder to wake up. You stirred from your short-lived slumber and looked up at him confused. He crouched down to your eye level and whispered “Luv, you must eat something before going back to bed.” “But I’m going to get cold though.” “Here you can have my blanket.” Price immediately covers you in the soft material that seemingly had his scent covered all over the blanket. He gently started pulling you away from Soap which had begrudgingly agreed to let you go. Price starts getting an MRE out of his backpack opens it up for you and puts it in your hands.  Your head jolted back in disgust upon seeing and smelling the MRE, and you pushed it back to Price “Eww I don’t want to eat that it looks horrible,” you replied with a huff and tried to cross your arms over your chest before Price forces them down once more and he responded, “Come on, sweetheart you know you have to eat at least something”. “Do you have anything that tastes better than that?’” you pleaded. “I think I might have something you like!” Gaz exclaims while reaching into his backpack looking for something and he pulls out a Chocolate bar. Your eyes sparkled when your eyes landed on the candy. You moved to the outstretched hand with the candy, your hand was barely closing on the sugary goodness before it was snatched away by Price. You softly gasp and shockingly look at Price, your eyes begging for an answer. He just smirks and holds the bar next to his face and simply tells “I promise to give it to you once you have finished your food.’’ “Promise?” “I promise in fact I’ll help you” Price said as he continues to sit directly in front of you, place the chocolate bar next to him and scooped a spoonful out of the MRE and holding it a mere inches away from your mouth. “Don’t be shy, open up”. You became rigid as you noticed that you are in the middle of attention, and you knew that Price is stubborn enough not to have it your way and as you open your mouth to eat what was on the spoon a small involuntary ‘ah∼’ squeaked from you. You looked down embarrassedly and chewed slowly. You could hear the stifled laughs from everyone as your face turns bright pink. Price once again hold out a spoonful toward you and shook your head in denial. Price once again holds up the chocolate bar and teasingly said “Come on, Princess if you want this you must finish.” You closed your eyes, swallowed your pride, and ate more. The whole process went on in a somewhat comfortable silence. You got used to the routine so much that you started to nod off bit by bit until Price startled you when he shoved the chocolate into your hands and softly muttered “You did such a good job, Princess.”   

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You stared happily at the chocolate on your hands and before you could open it, you sneezed and broke into a coughing fit. You tried to huddle yourself tighter into the blanket, but it didn’t stop you from shaking like a leaf. A small commotion broke out but once your coughing fit calmed down you realize that you have been picked up and carried by someone you only noticed once you suddenly felt a wave of warmth spread through your body that you, in fact, are laying on top of Ghost. Once you settled down in that conclusion you tried to scramble away from him, before he held you down by hugging you and squeezing you closer to him. You noticed that he wasn’t wearing his protective gear, you felt some but not all of it under his hoodie that you didn’t notice that he was wearing because he was sitting in the dark up until now. Your head was placed directly on top of Ghost’s chest, and you can hear his heartbeat quicken just a little. The rhythm of his heart and the warmth of his body slowly coaxed you closer to a deep slumber. Your eyes fought to stay awake until a heavy hand slowly petted your head and dragged down your back. You slowly relaxed into his strong embrace and unconsciously rubbed your nose into his chest until you found a comfortable place for your head to rest.  Unknowing to you Price, Gaz, and especially Soap gave Ghost the most hateful stare they could muster but Ghost simply shrugged as he continued to comb his fingers through your hair.   

Silently wishing that the night would last forever just to have you in his arms. 

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[spiritsirenscreamer]

Had a bit of fun today with drawing Prequelle!Aether.

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WELL. UH. IS THAT A GOOD THING??????

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It's my 2 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

Well.

Didn't think I'd been on here for two years but here we are!

[spiritsirenscreamer]

your dash has been blessed by cardinal copia today. Reblog for your mutuals to be blessed as well.

[spiritsirenscreamer]

Happy Spooky season!!

Commission. Do not use!

[spiritsirenscreamer]

Ghoul tails and puppy paws

age regression is a coping that can be both voluntary and/or involuntary it is entirely safe and reccomended by therapists if they believe it would be effective for said person but as mentioned for some people it is entirely unpredictable, if this makes you uncomfortable please carry on elsewhere thank you <3

1000 words on the dot!

Depressed phantom? Phantom is age regressed, phantom uses they/them pronouns, swiss uses he/him but thats only this one, we love our swiss gendered ghouls

Happy ending of course cause im a man of hurt comfort 🤠

Based on the pictures of phantom with little sunshine 🐶

"Buggy you know the answer, i want to appease your wishes but what about the clergy, the other ghouls" a shiver runs down his back at the thought of sister imperator "and seestor" he mumbles her title not wanting to give it a second thought.

♤

Papa can we keep little sunshine? " phantom who was all but big right now pleaded, following papa copia around like a lost puppy themself, their hands behind their back holding their own tail just under the spade.

The quintessence ghoul nodded dejectedly "yes papa" they mumbled wandering off.

They're not exactly sure why they felt so distraught after such but something in them felt sickeningly cold, a longing for a friend or companion, the warmth of a little sunshine.

They'd been slower more downcast, especially for a little ghoul who was bouncing off the walls 24/7 when they realized their own presence in the church wasn’t as truly temporary as previously stated.

It may had not been noticed by the crowd but the other ghouls even with their glamor up could feel a deep frosted alone feeling eating its way into phantom, the way their mind had ate at itself when they had first been summoned under the terms of temporary, their friendship with this puppy was deeper seated than just wanting a cute pet, this was a longing for someone who felt like them, for a puppy who radiated the same dejected cold feeling when people would pick up her litter mates not even giving her a second glance, how she stayed to the back of their little fenced in area keeping herself away from the puppy cuddle pile.

They were lost, almost stumbling over their own feet and the music at their fingertips, their glamor almost slipping at the same time as them almost into their headspace as their mind ate away at them.

By the time the show was over all they wanted to do was pick up their little friend and hold her, it wasn't a want it was desperation, they*needed* to hold her.

Papa was nowhere to be found, of course he wasn't, why would he be when he has a regressing ghoul begging for a companion that no one here understood the connection between, it was surreal, all stumbly and depressed they helped or at least tried helping pack up the equipment, trying to keep their mind occupied.

"bug, hey little quint- go say goodbye to your puppy friend, the people are packing up and letting us say goodbyes, c’mon baby-bug" swiss had come up behind them with his chest to phantoms back, giving them sorta a hug where swiss' left hand came around patting phantom in the center of their chest while swiss craned his neck to look somewhat through the mesh peripheral vision areas on the goggles.

Oddly enough this statement felt like it was being burned into their being, having a chance to say goodbye hurt so much more than the empty feeling of no second chance to see her, but they couldn't help it, thats supposed to be their best friend.

Their feet aimlessly trace them in the direction of the people with the puppies and kittens, swiss following them closely already aware.

Phantom walking over to the puppy-pen their little friend nowhere to be seen, their breathing picks up and their mind becoming spotty, looking around at all hands in the area for the sunshine, where is she, why does it feel like they're a planet quickly falling out of revolution of its sol, shes nowhere, maybe they're giving her another bath?

Their mind going a million miles an hour, they longed for their friend, one of the lovely ladies from earlier walking over noticing phantom by the black horns of their mask, "you here to say goodbye to the critters?" She smiled

Without caring if their voice came out how it does when they are little they mumble out "sunshine?" It sounded like a beg if you could see their eyes they would be big and full of agony and they're on a collision course with the abyss.

"Im so sorry, she was just adopted maybe five minutes ago" she says with sympathy

Their world us shattered, send them back to hell for all they cares, they cant breathe, the pits would do nothing to thaw the now set permafrost in their chest.

"Is there any other that you'd like to say goodbye to?" A careful smile with the absolution of sorrow painted in her gaze, he stumbles back into swiss' chest "hey buggy, its okay, come on baby" swiss whispers to deaf ears.

They're devastated, but alas theres nothing that can be done, for once they’ll let themself feel this, let it sink in, it's not like there was much of an option to begin with.

Once back to the tour bus they don’t even bother taking off their boots or helmet, all the buzzing commotion can wait, everyone can continue as their world sits in a slow muddled pause, they climb into their bunk curling up into a ball, hiding away from the potential ghoul piles, taking them self out of the limelight, the clergy would pay no second glance, maybe this is what it actually feels like to be temporary.

Their glamor fallen and little mind soaked in sorrow, the spade of their tail pressed against the muzzle, the only thing keeping them from crying out.

The curtain to the bunk being slowly opened and yet little bug squashed by the world they payed no mind to words or hands or little puppy paws.

Puppy paws? Gloved hands reaching over phantom putting the sunshine between them and the wall of the bunk, all senses are lit a blaze a revolution, of shared happy whimpers between to two little friends, their mind warm, safe, permanent because forever is only as ling as it needs to be, and this little ray of sunshine is his clarity "my sunshine" they smile

[spiritsirenscreamer]

Papa(i cant decide what number 1-4) : angry at his lover, because she avoids him..

Reader in her bedroom: p-please love...kill me i have a fever

https://themidult.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/painting-woman-ill-sick-fluey-unwell2-800x500.jpg

(sorry for the link im too shy to send this ask as me, but i think its kinda funny)

ghosting | papa x gn!reader

I could not decide on a Papa either, so I kept it as neutral as possible and (I hope) you can all imagine the Papa of your choice :) and anon, you need not be shy, I am so grateful for your ask <3 (and pls let me know who you are, so I can thank you in virtual kisses)

summary: your papa thinks you're avoiding him but once he finally finds you, he realises that he got it all wrong.

content: 2.5k words, sick care, some suggestive remarks, fluff mostly

masterlist – Ao3 link

✦ ✧ ✦ 

Papa scoffs into his afternoon coffee, nearly spilling the hot liquid all over his papal robes. Still nothing. He’s staring at his phone, the screen cracked from when it slipped out of his pocket while he fucked you on his desk two days ago. And yet he can clearly make out the two blue hooks indicating that you’ve read his message from this morning.

What he also sees is that there is still no reply. Your silence, your absence, the uncertainty – it drives him mad. He is so used to having your undivided attention, seeing your name pop up on his screen with a frequency that keeps him from getting any work done as of late. Not your name, though, no. He saved you under “amore mio” a long time ago. Not that you’re aware of it just yet, but his feelings for you have long since surpassed mere lust and friendliness.

His mind constantly wanders to you. Knowing your schedule by heart, it is easy to imagine what you’re doing, what may have you so distracted. Right now, you should be helping in the gardens, sweaty and panting from the exertions in the warm afternoon sun. He knows how pretty you look like that, even more so when you’re sprawled out underneath him as he gets lost in the soft curves of your body. He yearns to lick the salty sweat off your heaving chest, to hear your whimpers as his lips leave not a single inch of your skin untouched.

Alas, he is stuck in his office, brooding over paperwork.

He’s trying hard to concentrate on the words in front of him, not to stare at his screen all day like a depraved, starving man. Impatient, he even set the phone to vibrate but despite knowing he’d get a notification if you texted him, he taps the screen every two minutes to check. Just to make sure he doesn’t miss it. 

Oh how he’s longing for even the most delicate touch, a simple kiss on his cheek as you tell him to take it easy today, your hand squeezing his across the table. You used to do that, visit him in his office at least two times a day. Not always innocent. Actually, very rarely innocent. He can almost hear the echo of you screaming his name for half the abbey to hear. And yet, you have not been anywhere near these four desecrated walls in almost two days. Not since the last time you were intimate with him.

Why won’t you reply? A flash of doubt and a pang of anger. Could you be getting tired of him? Did he come on too strong? If that were the case, you should tell him. He’s a busy man, you of all people know that, and yet here you are practically ghosting him, as the younger Siblings call it. By now it’s almost dinner time, you must have had a chance to at least type in a yes or no. Papa knows if he can’t see you tonight he is going to lose his mind. He needs the confirmation or he’ll be nervous and distracted for the rest of his day.

Generous as he is, Papa gives you another hour, finishing up the dreadful paperwork before he has a quick dinner of reheated pasta from the day prior. It tastes like nothing to him and the emptiness of his quarters only adds to his foul mood. His eyes are still trained on his phone, the battery still half full, unused with the lack of texting. The only time his screen lights up this evening it’s to remind him that his screen time has gone up by eighty percent over the past week. It seems like that’s an issue you’re solving for him right now.

Papa knows he cannot go another night without seeing you. He needs to confront you, ask if you really lost interest or if you just need more space. Whatever it is, having clarity will be easier to bear than silence.

Entering the dorms is always risky business. People gossip, someone is going to see where he’s knocking, and while everyone knows the two of you are… something, he’s not keen on everyone speculating about why you’re suddenly on cooldown.

But when he knocks, nothing happens. He repeats the motion, rapping his knuckles against the wood three times, louder now. Nothing. He hears music, some sort of electronic beats, the tunes wafting over from another dorm room. A party, surely. Yours however remains eerily quiet. In a last attempt to find out if you’re even home, he tries the door.

It is unlocked, so you must be home. For a moment he considers leaving again but then a painful thought hits him: If you’re home, not opening up… it means you’re avoiding him. Clearly. 

What crime did he commit to deserve your ignorance? His anger propels him to enter, despite knowing he’s invading your privacy. But he cannot go back to his quarters without confronting you, not when he’s already in such pain. He’s feeling the anticipatory grief over losing you and it’s all because he let his guard down way too fast, leaning into your kindness, your loving nature. He always had a feeling that this was too good to be true, that despite thinking this time would be different, he’d end up in pain. Everyone just wants the sex, the fun, not the commitment that being with a Papa, maybe even loving a Papa, meant.

Fiddling with the doorknob, he feels awful for even thinking these things. You never gave him reason to doubt you, but it is just so easy to slip back into his old insecurities. Certain that he’s just seeing ghosts, Papa pushes the door open silently.

Upon entering the small antechamber that leads to your bedroom, he hears you moaning. He hears the rustling of sheets, the mattress creaking. A loud fuck.

Papa stops dead in his tracks, nearly toppling over as a wave of nausea hits him. For a second, his worst fears and his deepest insecurities melt into one big gooey ball of panic. He wants to be sure that what you have is special, but you never openly decided to be exclusive, that you wouldn’t see other people. He’s been meaning to ask, to tell you how he feels… too late, it seems.

But no. He soldiers on. If anyone else dares to touch you, they will receive all of his demonic, unholy wrath. He has a whole company of ghouls who would love to get a taste of human flesh again, if need be. Papa opens the door to your bedroom, anxious but driven, ready to face whatever lies behind. And he does find you in bed like he expected, only… you’re alone.

You don’t even look up. Are you sleeping? The room is stuffy, curtains closed and all he hears is your whimpering.

“Hello?” he asks quietly, his heart hammering in his chest.

“P-papa?” 

Your voice is barely audible. His anger turns into concern as he hurries to your side, sitting down at the edge of the bed. Immediately you reach for his hand in an attempt to squeeze, but it seems like you’re too weak to clench your muscles.

“Kill me, Papa. Release me from this torment,” you whine. “Please.”

“Tesoro, what is going on?”

You groan in reply, a sound only made more horrifying by the soreness of your throat. You sound like a dying animal and if he’s honest, you kind of smell like one too. He wonders how long you’ve been in this position.

“I am dying,” you whisper.

“What happened? Are you injured?”

He’s scanning your body but most of it is covered. Before he can pull away the duvet, you try to squeeze his hand yet again, this time with more vigor.

“S-sick,” you choke out. “The flu.”

“The flu?”

Papa ignores the bad conscience that’s settling in his mind and gives into his worry. He jumps up, opening the curtains and the window to let in some fresh air. You hiss like you’ve been burned, despite the sun already setting. Disregarding your complaints, Papa finds a thermometer and pain killers on your bedside table.

“We need to check if you have a fever, tesorino, can you open your pretty mouth for me?”

You giggle at his words. “I’m too sick for that, Papa.”

“You clearly have a fever if you think I’m going to laugh about this right now,” he states, removing his gloves and throwing them aside. His scowl is not in earnest, he’s not annoyed, of course, but he needs you to know your health is paramount.

“You’re so dramatic,” you whisper but you let him slot the thermometer between your lips anyway.

“I am dramatic? Who’s been locked inside their room like they have the plague without replying to my texts?” 

Papa presses the backs of his hands to your hot cheeks, acting like a mom who doesn’t trust the thermometer. You’re burning up, worrying him even more. Your skin is ashen, hair tousled, and he can see you shaking slightly.

At his words, your brow furrows. “I texted back,” you say, words muffled by the device in your mouth.

“You did not, amore. I have been wondering what I did to upset you so,” Papa admits. “I thought you were avoiding me. Ghosting me, as they say.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and as soon as Papa pulls out the thermometer, forehead scrunching up as he reads the 38.9°C, you start babbling.

“I was not, Papa. I would never. I was so sad I could not see you.” You swallow, groaning as the pain in your scratchy throat hits you. “Can you check my phone? I dropped it.”

Papa finds it under your bed. He lets you unlock it and you’re right, you did reply, only you never hit sent. I am sick in bed, Papa. I miss you too, but I would not want you to catch the flu. ♥︎

“I would never avoid you on you purpose,” you whisper, looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

He bends down to kiss your feverish forehead, feeling the heat against his lips. “I know that now, amore, don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I ever thought such a thing.”

“Amore?” you ask, grinning through a thick layer of haze. “That’s new, Papa.”

He can practically feel his cheeks turning rosy under his paint. “You know I like you, gioia mia, that is not new.”

“But amore is not just liking, right? It’s–”

“You have a fever, dolce. I need you to take the ibuprofen. Where do you keep your glasses?”

You pout at his interruption and with one last look at your puckered lips, he jumps up, avoiding not only your question but also the intense urge to kiss you. You’re in no condition to have a deep conversation right now. He searches the cupboards in your tiny kitchenette until he finds a glass he can fill with water. By the looks of it, you have not eaten all day, it’s far too clean.

“I don’t know if I can swallow,” you whine upon his return.

“We both know you’re very good at swallowing, amore. Open up.”

You frown without any real intensity and it’s an adorable sight, even in your messy, unkempt state. “I thought we weren’t joking about this.”

“It is allowed when I do it,” Papa says, practically shoving the pill into your mouth. “Drink, amore. You need liquids.”

You manage to swallow and the water feels like honey but only for a moment before the pain returns and your throat protests wildly. Even so, your mind still clings to his words.

“Papa,” you whine, reaching for his hand as soon as he’s set down the glass.

His mismatched eyes flicker to yours, still worried. “Yes?”

“You never answered.”

“We should talk about this tomorrow, sì? When you feel better.” At your sad expression he gives your hand a comforting squeeze. “I will go find some soup for you now, some other medication.”

“But I don’t want you to leave.”

“I will come back, dolce, you don’t make that pretty head worry too much, eh?” 

You whimper dramatically. “But what if I am dead by then?”

Papa sighs but it’s followed by deep chuckle as he playfully rolls his eyes at you. “You win, amore, I will text one of the ghouls.”

As soon as the text is sent, Papa closes the window again and starts to undress. From your position on the bed you’re watching him like a hawk, pulling a fuzzy blanket over your mouth to hide your grin. He can’t help but find it endearing and suddenly he feels even worse for assuming the worst today. Once he’s in his briefs and undershirt, he crawls into bed behind you, pulling you close. You’re a little sweaty, not exactly smelling fresh, but he doesn’t mind. Feeling your warmth, having you tucked against him, it’s all he really needs. 

And as his heart does a flip, racing thanks to your proximity, he gently cups your cheek. “Do you think you can give me a kiss, amore?”

“But you’ll get sick,” you whisper, the protest dying as soon as he tilts your chin up.

His lips graze yours, softly pressing in more and more until you melt against him. Even your lips are warmer than usual and he keeps it chaste, breaking away to look into your eyes again.

“Papas don’t get sick, eh?” He gives a tender kiss to your forehead, gently running his fingers through your hair before they settle on your back. “Now, you wanted an answer.”

Your look is pleading and it’s like your shining eyes are trying to lure the words right out of him. He wonders how he ever worried you may not feel the same when it’s written all over your face. His nerves start showing then, fidgety fingers drawing tiny patterns on your back, and he can feel your hands pressing into his chest, gripping at the fabric of his shirt.

“I love you,” he finally says. “You are my amore, my love. Tieni il mio cuore in mano. Please, I want to ask you to be mine.”

“I love you, too.” A big grin spreads out on your face. You lean in to kiss him again, softly moving your lips against his, and you stay impossibly close as you whisper. “And I am yours, forever, if you are mine.”

Papa smiles against your mouth and for a moment he forgets that you’re sick and kisses you harder. When he breaks away, you’re breathless, coughing softly, but he can tell by the happy look on your face that it was worth it.

“I am yours, amore,” he says. “I am yours forever, if Satan allows me.”

You settle against his solid chest, warm cheek pressed to the skin just above the neckline of his shirt. After today, your Papa vows to take better care of you, to trust you fully and cast any doubts aside as soon as they arise. And so he wraps his arms around you even tighter, whispering soft praises  into your hair until you’re finally asleep again, the only sound in the room your soft and even breathing.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

non vedo l’ora di baciarti – I can’t wait to kiss you

tieni il mio cuore in mano – you hold my heart in your hand

[spiritsirenscreamer]

My favorite type of Mountain picture: when he’s got his mouth closed but you can still see the pink of his inner lip. Very fun mouth shape.

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It's giving 💅💅💅

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I LOVE MY OC WITH MY WHOLE HEART AAAAAA

[spiritsirenscreamer]

One of my friends refering to swiss and terzo: "Which one is the baked potato and who's the mozzarella stick?"

Me without thinking: "swiss is baked cause of Sodo and terzo is mozzi cause of Omega."

My friend started to wheeze because that fuck's dirty minded. Then I got a chicken nugget thrown at me for that which landed under the car. Rip McDonald's Chicken nugget #485828479994827. You will forever be missed.