#forest's favourite ghouls

[adarkenedforest]

Violently ripping off my jacket to reveal an 'I love my husband' t-shirt

[blingblong55]

Dogs, dogs and more dogs- 141

This is based on a request:

Hi! Can I request if tf141 with Fem! Reade who has a lot more than 4 of German shepherds. The men’s ask her why she has a lot til she answered “Because… they’re my family. They’re all I have left.” She explain She found them in the forest when she was younger and the dogs were puppies. Her family died from car accident. The men’s were so sad hearing her explanation and hug her.

F!Reader, fluff?, Platonic!Relationship

From the minute the men of the task force met you, you had at least one dog around you. Buddy, Ghoul, Beelz, and Cane. They had become the only thing in this world that saved you from what could've been your demise. The men never understood why you were so attached to those dogs. Always petting them, babying them and at times they'd sleep in your bed.

You had become a dog handler for the military, always been deployed with your dog. A year into your service, your first dog ever, Rocky, had passed away, he defended your comrades from an enemy soldier. Took you two months to even decided to work with another dog. And one faithful night, there they were, 4 month old puppies, cold, scared and alone.

Buddy was the first one to accomplish his training, he was specifically trained to detect explosives. He and Soap got along very well, soap helped you at time to keep Buddy in check, always hiding an explosive so he can find it. His name was given after you accidentally kept calling him that name. It was cute and simple, but he was fierce and a devil on the field.

Ghoul, was your second to accomplish his training. He was fast, always willing to jump to anything you told him to. He was trained to search and rescue. The soldiers on base loved him, because on the field he was scary, but once back at base, he was the sweetest and calmest of your dogs. It was funny yet it made sense when the dog got attached to Ghost. One time Ghoul took his dog bed to the front of Ghost's quarters and office door. Now if Ghost is somewhere and you haven't seen Ghoul, just look for Ghost and he'll be there too.

Beelz was your favourite, she was so soft to the touch and so amazing on the field. Her speciality was patrolling and attacking. Something a poor rookie found out one day. She was attached to you, mainly because her brothers were so tough to play with and you gave her spa days. On base if a soldier who had a sneaked out and was coming back to base late at night, they wouldn't fear the actual guards at gate, but they feared Beelz. She would growl and make a mental note to tell on the soldier to either you or Price.

Cane was the beast of them all. He was a smart dog, so the military training him in detection of explosives and search and rescue. He was the serious of them all. Had a whole grumpy personality, silent, sleepy when off duty and the most hard working one of them all. At times you thought he was the dog version of Ghost and Gaz. But he never got along with them, just you. If Belz wasn't around and it was you in your room alone, Cane would be there, letting himself get pampered. But that was only with you. At times, Gaz or Ghost, deepening who won that argument, would run around base with Cane.

One afternoon when the dogs had the day off, you had found yourself in the common room, surrounded by them all. You were all watching a motorsports event. Buddy resting his head on your stomach, Beelz by your side, Ghoul on your other side and Cane by your feet. The men of the task force walked in, saw the image of your dogs and you. The second Ghoul picked up the scent of the lieutenant, he got up and walked to him.

Soap took Ghoul's seat, "Hi, bonnie" he rests his head on your shoulder, taking the remote from you and turning the volume up. You hummed a hello.

Price sat on the other end, "I never asked," he spoke up, making Soap and you turn to him, "why have all these dogs?" he wasn't asking to be rude but out of genuine curiosity. You sighed, looking from Buddy to him, "They are my family," Soap nudges your side with his elbow, "apart from you all, of course." you looked back to the screen. "what'd you mean?" Gaz sat on the other sofa. "A few years ago, I found them in a box, left on the side of the road, my parents and sibling were killed in a car accident, I was going back to their house after the funeral when a puppy by the name of Cane made me stop."

The image was still here.

Cane was the protector of his siblings. He figured if the cars passed slower because of the deers that maybe they'd stop for him on the road. So he stood there until some car would stop. You had just say your final goodbye at the funeral, feeling numb and sick. You saw a figure standing on the road, small but it wasn't moving, your car stopped, got off the car and met Cane. He went to you, he barked and bit the sleeve of your arm, guiding you to the other three pups. In a dirty and dented box three puppies laid there, trying to keep the girl warm. You looked at Cane and then at his siblings, "Don't worry," you picked the box up, put it in the back seat and then picked Cane up. He sat on the passenger seat.

You sigh as you retell the story, "then it was us five and now it's us and you guys." you look up, Soap snuggling to your side, wiping his own tears away. Gaz sitting closer now, a small smile on him, Beelz had found way to him. Price gave you a nod, understanding what they meant to you now. Ghost , Ghoul and Cane all staring at you, funny enough, Ghost was making his adorable puppy eyes. You smile at the image forming in front of you, your own family. It wasn't just the girl and her German shepherds, it was the girl and her favourite beings in this world. The dogs and your men, what more could there ever be.

A/N: this was requested a while back, so apologies if it was barely made.

[st-danger]

Hello hello!

Penny for your thoughts on predator Aeon?

Ohhhhh here have some headcanons!

Aeon is very much a playful sort of ghoul. Likes to tease. Likes to have fun.

Likes to hunt.

Aether doesn't enjoy being chased. Mountain would rather do the chasing. Rain gets nervous, always, makes too many mistakes trying to get away and hide, so it's not as much of a challenge as Aeon would like.

Dew's a slippery one. Fast, incredibly graceful. Whereas Rain is almost guaranteed to trip on a tree branch or some detritus in the forest, Dew doesn't have that issue. What he does have, however, is a shocking lack of awareness when it comes to the feeling of quintessence; you'd think that for as often as he and Aether use that for the most unwholesome of purposes, he'd be a little more attuned to the feeling of magick prickling his skin. Aeon chalks it up to the way the adrenaline from being chased takes centre stage.

Regardless of why he's caught of guard by it every time, he is, and Aeon finds few things more delicious than getting into Dew's head. Rearranging what he sees. What he feels. Just enough warping of reality to confuse. Easy enough to make the forest seem darker. Easy enough to make it sound like there are footsteps from many directions. So easy to make him feel a phantom breath on the back of his neck to make him whip around to face nothing at all. Dew considers it cheating, always gets the most enticing drip of panic from his cursing when he realizes he's being toyed with.

All that adrenaline and will to fight and it never gets him anywhere for long. Sometimes he finishes the hunt quickly, other times he waits until Dew is panting and utterly exhausted, holds the back of his neck and fucks him into the forest floor with little ceremony. Shoves his face into Dew's armpit and smells him when he's sweaty.

Swiss is the other favourite.

Swiss feels the quintessence, and given that he's got a bit of his own threaded through him, it's easier for him to recognize and parse through what's real and what's simply being suggested. He's not immune, but it evens the playing field more.

To Aeon's delight, Swiss is a fighter. Aeon has to work hard to keep up with him, and work even harder to take him down. It's less playing with his victim and more of an actual struggle. Swiss is a lot stronger than he is, and there are only so many shadows for Aeon to hide in before he has to step out of them to finish the job.

The best thing he can do is draw it out.

Create a sense of dread. Wait. Get close enough to him, and give him an out because the sight of Swiss running from him, trying to escape him, gets him blindingly hard. Swiss is good about smelling like fear, too. It might be a game, but he can't stop the natural reaction being hunted elicits. Dew smells of panic, Swiss smells like fear. Aeon could asphyxiate himself on both.

Swiss fights. Aeon laughs and claws and shoves and bites, and Swiss will grab his hair. Slap him if he can.

The thing about hunting Swiss that Aeon likes best is that he doesn't always win.

It's a toss up if Swiss throws him down hard, pins him under thick thighs and wraps a hand around his throat, squeezing just enough to make his eyes grow big, make him struggle. Grinding down onto him, making sure Aeon can feel how hard he is. Demands Aeon open his mouth and show him that little pink tongue so he can spit on it and laugh at him with his legs kick uselessly under him. Tells him in a low, dangerous voice, better luck next time, kiddo.

[ligovskaya]

aether ghoul moodboard

this is my first post on here, still unsure if i should be doing this or not, but like i always say: no ragrets

this is how i headcanon our big boy aether

1st photo: leather jacket -> no explanation here, he seems like the type to wear leather jackets 24/7

2nd photo: winter forest -> i was talking to my friends about what type of weather/season of the year the ghouls would be and aether felt like winter

3rd photo: sketches -> he is an artiste

4th photo: cigarettes formed into a pentagram -> he's a smoker, let's be honest

5th photo: the one and only, aether -> one of my favourite photos of him

6th photo: tattooed hands -> he is covered in tattoos, head to toe

7th photo: an anatomy book -> he works in the infirmary, he has to know his stuff

8th photo: whiskey -> occasionally, he enjoys a strong glass of whiskey

9th photo: a motorcycle -> yall knew this was coming, he's 100% a biker

ghoul moodboards: 1/10 all photos were found on pinterest full list of moodboards

[chapel-of-rizztual]

I wrote this at 6am when insomnia was kicking my ass. Definitely not projecting.

Mountain stood at the kitchen window watching the sun slowly rise about the trees of the forest that surrounds the ministry. He was in a trance, the kettle he’d boiled long forgotten about and the mug in his hand remained empty. He looked down at the oven and the timer blinked 06:34 back at him. He sighs. No point in sleeping now, he had to be up a in an hour anyway to be on time for morning mass.

His insomnia had been flaring up recently, the past few weeks he’d been getting less and less sleep each night, which led to the last couple of nights where he’d been unable to sleep. Tossing turning in his bed, eyes heavy, unable to switch his brain off.

He’d given up trying to sleep tonight. His room felt too suffocating, too familiar, the endless tossing and turning had become boring.

He'd come down to the common room in hopes that a new environment would help but that was to no avail, he’d tossed and turned on the sofa as if it were his bed. It was starting to make his head hurt. Which led him to where he his now, stood in the kitchen, distracted by the sun rise in his attempts to make tea.

He’s been so distracted, so lost in thought that he didn’t notice someone had entered the room until there were two hand placed on his hips, making him jump.

“What are you doing up already?” Aether whispered to him, wrapping his arms fully around Mountain’s waist.

“Oh, I-um- I couldn’t sleep.”

Aether steps to side of him, keeping one arm around Mountain’s waist.

“Not sleeping good again?”

Mountain shakes his head looking down at the other ghoul. Aether takes in his appearance, eyes dull and bloodshot, dark circles set deep under his eyes making his skin look paler then it should be. His hair is a tangled mess, sticking up in every direction. Aether can he’s been restless all night.

“What are you doing up, anyway?” Mountain questions.

“I needed some water, couldn’t find the glass that’s usually in my room. I think Dew broke it and didn’t tell me.”

Mountain huffs a laugh. That sounds exactly like the small ghoul.

Aether takes the mug out of his hands and places it on the counter in front of both of them.

“You making tea, Sweetpea?”

“I was attempting, yeah, I got distracted.”

Aether takes a glass from the cupboard above them, fill it with water, and chugs it down in a matter of seconds.

“You still want tea? I can make it for you.”

“Yes please.”

It doesn’t take long for Aether to make the tea, picking out a blend he knows that’s Mountain’s favourite. Instead of placing on the counter like Mountain expects, Aether takes the mug in his right hand and grabs Mountain’s hand with his left, pulling him out the kitchen and in the direction of the ghouls dormitories.

Mountain makes a confused sound as Aether leads him in the direction of his own room.

“Gunna get you to sleep, sweet pea, don’t you worry about that.” Is all he says as he kicks the door open with his foot.

Mountain isn’t given a chance to respond as he’s dragged into the room.

It’s dark, not as dark as his room is though. There’s a small gap in the curtains making sunlight spill into the room. Mountain looks at Aether questionably.

“Dew likes to be able to see the moon, so I keep a little gap for him.” He explains.

Mountain nods as he looks to the nest on Aether’s bed where he sees the small ghoul, starfished in the middle. He’s snoring lightly, long hair flowing in every direction over the pillows.

“I leave for two minutes and he fully takes over.” Aether huffs a laugh as he places the mug of tea on his bedside table.

“How does someone so small mange to take up so much space, anyway?” Mountain replies, smiling.

“Don’t let him hear you say that, or that’s a sure fire way to get bit.” Aether smiles back at him.

Mountain giggles and watches as Aether nudges at Dew’s shoulder, telling him to roll over and make space.

Dew cracks his eyes open, squinting up at both of them, with a scowl on his face, but he does as he’s told and moves up, making space.

“There we go, hop in” Aether nods towards his nest.

“We have to be up in less then an hour, there’s no point in sleeping now, Aeth.”

Aether rolls his eyes.

“Just get in and stop making excuses.”

“We have morning mass, Copia-“

“Copia is currently sandwiched in between Cirrus and Cumulus, snoring his head off, and with what they did to him last night, he’s also not making to morning mass either. We can have a lie in for once.”

Aether doesn’t give the tall ghouls a chance to respond as he drags him into his nest, and situates him in between Dew and himself, back to Dew so he’s facing Aether.

Dew immediately curls and arm around Mountain, snuggling himself into his back, burying his face into the back of his neck with a small contented hum.

He’s a comforting warmth against Mountain’s back, making him melt into his embrace.

Dew rubs at Mountain’s belly, with a purr, kicking up his heat even more.

“He’s never normally this cuddly, especially on his own accord. I think I’ve heard him purr, maybe…twice? He questions.

“He can be really sweet when he wants to be.” Aether whispers. He’d be the one to know, the two are inseparable at the best of times. The only person Dew let himself be really emotionally vulnerable with was Aether.

There’s a light snore from behind Mountain, making both the ghouls giggle.

Aether pulls Mountain into him, letting him rest his head on his chest. He kicks up a purr, letting it vibrate

through his chest, in an attempt to soothe Mountain.

He runs a had through his hair, scratching along his scalp. Mountain visibly relaxes into the touch, a purr of his own vibrating through his chest.

Aether places several little kisses along Mountain’s hairline, going down his cheeks and places a kiss to his lips, making Mountain give out a little hum. As sneakily as he can he pumps his quintessence through his fingers, hoping some of it rubs off onto Mountain.

Mountain feels his eyes begin to droop.

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are, you know?”

“Shhh, don’t fight it. Just close your eyes and sleep.”

“Forgot about my tea.” He mumbles as he rubs his head along Aether’s chest, trying to get as much of his scent on him as possible,

Aether chuckles.

“I’ll make you some more when you wake up. I might even make you pancakes.”

“I want pancakes as well.” Says a small voice from behind them.

Aether laughs and Mountain huffs against his chest.

“I’ll make you both pancakes, but you have to go to sleep first, okay? I promise.”

“Deal.” Dew says, as he snuggles back into Mountain’s back.

Mountain can’t even respond properly, his eyes finally closing as he relaxes fully against the two ghouls.

“Whenever you can’t sleep, you come to me, okay? I’ll always help you, Mounty.” Aether whispers to him as he falls asleep.

The last thing he remembers as he drifts off is the loud , comforting, purrs of all three of them mixing together.

[sinon36]

Echoes of Salvation: The Deal (Part I). Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x afab reader  (Zombie AU)

Part II

The story starts after the dash.

Warnings: some gore, some mistakes, some bad writing (eh… we all have to start somewhere), not proof read, some independent woman surviving on her own without the need of help from men (cause I like self reliant women and people in general, they are a great inspiration to us all, really).

Disclaimer:

Dear readers,

Please be kind. This is my first fanfiction ever that I wrote and posted, so please be kind and overlook any potential inaccuracies, mistakes, grammatical errors as I’m not a professional writer and also English isn’t my native tongue. Though I have studied British English I am sure I haven’t really managed to accurately portray the British way of speaking, so please, feel free to point out anything that might poke you in the eye while reading this.

Also, I would like to tell you that this fan-fic is the love child of my obsession with our favourite masked man Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, and my love for anything zombie apocalypse or world-ending alternate universe or actual universe. Tbh If I wasn’t a poor student I would probably be a prepper, just like Frank from HBO’s TLoU. Most likely will be. I’m a little weird like that, you’ll see more in the future.

To close this little rant, I hope you’ll enjoy it, even if it’s short, I would really like to continue this if you deem it worth it enough. This will probably be a slow-burn kind of romance: 1. because I’m a sucker for the kind of slow-burn strangers/enemies to lovers fanfics, and 2. because it’s more realistic, let’s calm the whore-y instincts and be reasonable people that don’t climb masked 6-feet-tall strangers like trees.

With everything said I do not own the Call of Duty character Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley (*whispers*Though I wish I did*) BUT I do own this piece of fanfic. Please don’t steal it. Repost it but please do give credit to other people’s work. You may notice some similarities to other fanfics, cause duh, I also read a lot of that, (isn’t that one of the incipient stages to becoming a fanfic writer?), but I would really like to give a shout out to the fanfic author that really inspired me to put fingers to keyboard and a fanfic into Tumblr, please, *drum rolls* a round of applause for @nsharks with her lovely fanfic ‘Bleeding Blue’. She’s really wonderful and you should really check her out.

Have fun reading and don’t forget to leave a comment or a heart. I wouldn’t mind suggestions of what to name Simons’ daughter. That would really make my day 😊

P.S. Sorry to all the fishing loving people out there, what I said was based on my impression of the fishing experience and should be taken with a grain of salt.

            Yours truly <3

Synopsis:

It’s been five years since the outbreak happened. Five years ago, in London, a terrorist group released a virus in the city center. 24 hours later, people start developing flu-like symptoms. 48 hours later the infected turn into mindless ghouls biting healthy people and spreading the infection. Everything happened so fast. The army came in and tried to contain the outbreak but soon chaos engulfed the whole country. You learn that similar attacks happened all over the world: New York, Beijing, Moscow, Athens, and Tokyo. City by city, the whole world is ending.

You survived thanks to your mid-twenties life crisis that made you move into a cottage house by the lake in Lake District. The land you own is surrounded by thick lush forest that offers perfect cover for the tiny brick house that is your safe haven. With a water source close, off-the-grid energy, and a garden full of plants, fruit trees chickens, and whatnot, you live a comfortable life tucked away, far from the dangers of the cities. You are so far out of reach that in the past years you only saw a handful of infected, survivors that traveled far to escape and distant neighbours that got infected in the towns nearby. You can’t remember the last time you saw another person. But you are used to your loneliness. The end of the world brought only a mild inconvenience, now that you can no longer order things online and watch movies on Netflix or HBO. But with a library full of books, a homestead to keep you active and your Border Collie companion, Bellamy, life is good. Life is peaceful.

One day, while you are out fishing, a masked man, armed to the teeth and carrying a young girl in his arms threatens to kill you if you don’t provide him with medicine for his sick daughter.                     

-

The sky is cloudy above but some sunbeams break through to warm the crisp air this fine early spring morning. It’s a good time for fishing now that the water is warmer, they come closer to the bank in search of food. It’s a boring task after you arrange all your tools and launch the line in the water. It’s a game of waiting and watching for any small tugs or movement of the neon-coloured fishing line. You picked up fishing after a couple of months into moving here, when everything was a mess and so many repairs and renovations had to be made around the house. The guy from the tutorials you used to watch on YouTube talked about the calmness and relaxation fishing brought to him. Maybe you weren’t cut out to stand all day on shore and gawk like an idiot for hours at the thin plastic line submerged in the lake water. But you cannot deny the proud feeling catching a fish brought to you when the line finally went taught.

You try and ward off the boredom and instead try to focus on the warmth that spring brings after months of endless cold. The birds are singing in trees, preparing nests for future offspring, and the lake is calm, with bubbles on the surface indicating the abundance of fish. Life is good. Bellamy enjoys sunbathing next to you rolling in a patch of grass. Everything is peaceful. Nothing really happens here anyway. You close your eyes basking in the good feeling that overtakes you.

A branch snapping behind you wakes you from the meditation you have fallen into. You raise and turn from where you are crouched over your equipment. You come face to face with a strange figure.         

‘Show me yer hands’ he tells you in a thick British accent, eyes focused on you and handgun aimed at your chest. He wears all black and a haunting white skull mask. He is tall, at least 6 feet tall, body poised to kill. In his other arm, you can see a little girl hugging his neck.

You slowly raise your hands. At your foot, Bellamy growls baring her teeth at the stranger sensing danger. You shush her grabbing her by the caller to keep her from attacking the armed man. You stand still watching in apprehension as the man studies you. You look at the ground where you left your backpack and your hatchet.

‘Don’t even think about it’ comes the gruff order. You nod trying to convey that you understand the situation. ‘There’s nothing in that bag worth a bullet’ you tell him in an even tone despite fear creeping down your spine. He hums in agreement. ‘And if you wanted to kill me you would’ve done it by now.’ He watches you like a hawk its prey. ‘So…’ you pause carefully measuring your words, ‘what it is that you want from me?’ he gestures you to take a few steps back and you drag Bellamy by her collar.

He kicks at the backpack spilling the contents. A bottle of water and a half-eaten sandwich, a hunting knife, and a rectangular box in which you keep the hooks, lures, fishing lines, and other small fishing equipment. He turns his gaze back at you and nods toward your dog. ‘Put a muzzle on it or I’ll shoot it’. your blood runs cold at the thought of losing your sole companion. You scramble to untie the scarf you keep tied around your wrist that you use to wipe away sweat from your forehead. You wrap the piece of cloth around the dog’s snout tight enough to not slip away. Next, the dark-clad man tells you to pack your fishing gear and collect your backpack, with one hand keeping it outstretched to the side and the other one grabbing at Bellamy’s collar guiding her forward. ‘Move. Eyes forward. Any sudden moves and I drop you.’

He walks a couple paces behind you. For how big he is you can barely hear him walk on the path. You can feel his gaze burning in the back of your head and the gun pointed at your back. As you start down the path you can make out the roof of your small house. Once you get at the gate you stop. ‘open it’ he instructs. ‘The key is in my right pocket’ you say slowly gesturing to said pocket. ‘Mhm,’ you hear him grunt. You slowly release Bellamy and fish for the key in your jacket’s pocket. You slowly take it out and put it in the keyhole turning it and opening the gate.

The familiar sight of your front garden does nothing to appease you in this situation. Bushes full of colourful flowers hug the narrow path toward the house. The wind catcher hung above your porch clinks melodically as a gust of warm wind catches on it. you take a few more steps on the stone path before you and you hear the gate closing behind you. What once was your safe space now traps you in with a stranger ready to shoot you or worse.

‘Tie the dog to that pole’ he orders you again. On your right, there is a small pole stuck in the ground. He throws a roll of paracord next to you. You don’t move at first. You had never tied Bellamy down before. You can’t even remember when you last put a leash on her. She likes to roam free and run around. The click of the gun behind you tells you that you have no choice. You drop the backpack and start to drag her to the pole. She tries to resist but you shush her and urge her to move. Once you finish tying her you turn towards the stranger. He nods towards the house and you start walking hands raised on either side of your head. Once you open the door he urges you inside.

‘Where do you keep the medicine?’ he grumbles urgently. ’Bathroom.’ you nod to the right of your living room. ‘Go get it!’ you don’t wait around you spring toward the white door. After a couple of minutes grabbing most of what you keep in the over-sink cabinet you emerge hands filled with gauze of all sizes and different bottled pills. You return to find the man placing the girl on the couch. She appears to be asleep. You almost forgot about her. She looks about 8-years-old. Brown hair is chopped short in a pixie cut. She’s wearing blue-washed jeans and a dark green hoodie that’s too big on her.

You watch as he peels the hoodie from her limp body. Underneath she wears a striped t-shirt, but what catches your attention is her left upper arm. Red stained gauze is wrapped around. You are still in your approach keeping a safe distance. ‘Was she bit?’ the words rush out in apprehension. From where he kneels next to her his eyes snap at you. ‘No’ he denies the implication of your words. ‘Put that on the table and go sit by the door’ You do as you're told eyes darting between the girl and the man. You drop everything on the coffee table and go sit by the entrance door hugging your knees. You watch as he works on bandaging the kid. Your eyes are glued to the girl’s arm.

Even though you lived so far out into the wilderness you saw pictures on the internet of bites from the infected. You read the posts of the survivors and heard the news broadcast on all channels. Then everything went quiet. The cable didn’t work and your phone had no signal. You knew shit hit the fan and that it was serious. Then, a few weeks later you saw your closest neighbour, Neil, an elderly farmer who lived about half a mile further up the river’s bank, growling and stumbling trying to catch Bellamy who was running scared towards you. You tried to talk him out of the trance-like state but to no avail. He kept stalking towards you, ready to take a bite out of you. You tried to tell him to keep his distance and warned him that you would protect yourself. The rest was a blur. You faintly remember grabbing the hatchet that you used to cut down logs for your stove. And then the struggle with the man, Bellamy barking, you crying out pleas for him to stop. In the cacophony of noises, you hit him with the blade right in the neck. The next thing you knew, your neighbour lay in a pool of dark blood hatchet still. It took you a while to register what you have done. You just killed a man. You couldn’t forget the way he lay there, on the gravel, hands stretched outwards bloodshot eyes staring emptily at the sky. That was the first time you encountered an infected. You distinctly remember the fear and adrenaline that took hold of you. The feelings that gripped your heart so tight and that made you take a life take over you as you watch the little girl, possibly infected, unconscious but on her way to the same madness that turned Neil into a savage monster all those years ago.                                                 

'She's feverish. You got meds or something to bring the fever down?' his question brings down from your rising panic at the thought of being stuck inside with a possible infected. ‘There should be some anti-inflammatory pills and some antibiotics. They are out of date but they could still work.' He grabs hold of the med kit you brought. He sorts through the drugs checking the expiration dates. When he comes across the antibiotics, he studies the pack carefully, his eyes darting back and forth from the label to the girl. 'How much can I give her?' he asks with a hint of concern his stern facade crumbling slightly.

You look at him unsure what to say. Those pills have been bought before the start of the outbreak. You doubt expired drugs have any effect anymore. You refrain from saying that though. He is stressed, he might take his anger on you. ‘She’s a kid, you mumble, so, about half of each.’ He carefully considers his next action. ‘She’ll need water to take them, you add from down the floor. And some food…’ He nods in understanding. ‘May I?’ you don’t know why you offer this stranger help. First, he disturbs you from catching dinner, next, he threatens to kill you and your dog, now he takes over your house and medicine. But you can recognize the desperation in his look, the way he fumbles with the packaging. He is a parent trying to save his kid. Even though you don’t have any of your own you recognize the parental instincts, the same ones you exert on Bellamy.

He looks at you unsure of what to do. He surrenders in defeat and nods at you to go on. You rise to your full height, which doesn’t add up to much compared to him. You walk past them all the way to the back of the living room where you disappear behind a white door. After a couple minutes, you reemerge from the kitchen with a glass of water in one hand and a bowl of steaming vegetable soup you made this morning. You slowly approach the couch watching him for any sign that you might cross a line. Instead of any aggression he takes a step back and allows you to go closer to the girl. You place the bowl and the glass on the coffee table and kneel next to the couch.

The girl opens her eyes and looks at you with distrust. Like father like daughter… you think to yourself. But you try to smile at her try to reassure her. ‘I brought you some soup, love’ you say in your most sincere and kind voice. ‘You must eat a little and then take some pills that will make you feel better’. You try to persuade her. She stares at you for a minute then at the man. They are suspicious of you and they have all the reason to be. You are a stranger to them as much as they are to you. Funny you are in the position to try and win their trust in your own home. You take the spoon you brought for her and dip it in the bowl. You take a spoonful and hover it close to your face blowing a little over it and then you swallow it. You can’t help the little moan of appreciation for your own cooking skills. ‘See? It’s good.’ You look at her with a small smile.

You don’t know where this came from; you blame it on the 6-foot-tall armored stranger whose stare drives daggers at the back of your head and your desire to keep your head on your shoulders and all your blood in your body. You don’t outright hate kids but you were never good around them. With a sigh, she sits upright and takes the spoon from you. She eats slowly. You keep watching her. She is a pretty kid. She has blue eyes and freckles on her small button nose. You wonder if she looks anything like the man behind you. She is pale and sweat collects on her little forehead most likely from her fever. She eats half of the soup you brought her and then turns her gaze towards the man. He hands her the two halves of the pills. She takes them in her small hand and grabs the glass. She hesitates. ‘It’s okay’ you reassure her and with a nod, she puts the half tablets on her tongue following up with large gulps from the glass. She scrunches her little nose in disgust at the chalky taste. ‘Atta girl’ you hear him utter from behind you. ‘Now lay down and rest.' he says to the girl in a stern yet gentle voice. He watches her nod and lie back on the couch her eyes half-lidded. He sighs, 'Good for now. ' he mutters under his breath. His eyes are fixed on her as he gestures to you. 'Come with me.' You rise from the floor and follow him outside the front door.

He leads you outside. When you cross the threshold, he takes a deep breath and a look of relief washes over his stern features. He gestures for you to sit on the front porch with him. 'We need to talk...' 'Yeah' you say crossing your arms defensively over your chest and standing as far away as the length of your porch allows. you take a moment to study him as he fixes you with a cold stare. You notice the many pockets on his vest and belt. A patch on his chest reads S.A.S. He's ex-military, you muse. His uniform makes much more sense now. But the mask still unnerves you.

He leans against one of the wooden porch support beams right hand hovering on the pistol holster. You think it's an act to intimidate you, to remind you that he is still armed and ready to strike you down in your own home.  You stare at him a little defiantly. You’ll be damned before you let this weirdo intimidate you on your turf. He studies you from head to boots and back up. You sigh and square your shoulders showing him you are not afraid of him. ‘I’ve been watching you.’ He tells you in a matter-of-fact tone. You try to suppress the surprise on your face. You look down at his boots avoiding his icy gaze.

He’s been stalking you, and the realization dawns on you. You didn’t even notice his presence around the house. Stupid, you think to yourself, I’m growing complacent. But not even Bellamy caught his smell and she usually barks when someone or something comes close to the house. But earlier at the lake, he took you both by surprise. He’s good at keeping his presence concealed, you have to give it to him. You nod to yourself in understanding. He probably knows the layout of your house by now, he knows you are alone, and he waited for you to be outside and ambush you. You start imagining all the horrible things he could have done to you. But no, he instead approached you, gun pointed at you, nevertheless, when he could have already killed you and taken over your house by now. You hum and make eye contact with him.

‘Why keep me alive then?’ you ask him without beating around the bush. You study his mannerisms trying to catch something, anything to prove you he’s human. But he’s as unreadable as a statue. His gaze remains fixed on you, unblinking and stoic. You feel him studying you, taking in every detail of your person. He seems intent on reading into your every move.

In an even tone, he answers, 'Because you’re not a threat.’ His response catches you off guard, ego a little bruised at that, but you can’t argue with his logic. If he wanted to, he could have killed you by now, that’s for sure. You remain silent for a moment, processing his response. ‘But that doesn’t mean I trust you.’ He adds kicking off the beam and taking a step closer to you. He looks down at you tilting his head a little like a bird of prey watching a mouse, waiting for it to give chase and make the hunt more fun. You don’t give in to the urge to run inside and hide in your bedroom. Instead, you take a step towards him and look up at him ‘Because you need me’ you speak quietly. You can imagine a raised brow under that mask. You smile in triumph; even though he acts tough he needs help and all the intimidating façade was in a desperate attempt to get it.

‘I get it’ you continue having him figured out. ‘Your kid is sick and out there dangers are lurking at every turn. You need a place to stay until she gets better.’ You finish voicing your theory on why he’s really here having this conversation with you. His eyes closed in defeat. Gotcha, you smile even more widely at your deduction. ‘You can stay, you say as you turn and walk down the three steps of your porch heading towards the gate. ‘On one condition, you add stopping in your track. You turn fully towards him and he watches you curiously as if you’d have any power to demand him anything. ‘No harm comes to me or my dog’ you say remembering his earlier threats of him offing you both. ‘Do we have a deal?’ it’s not unreasonable, though it irks you that you have to bargain for your safety with a stranger. ‘Deal.’ He says in his usual gruff voice nodding to you in sign of respect for your demand.

‘Good’ you say as you stalk off towards where Bellamy lays muzzled and tied like a prisoner of war. You free her and she jumps at you happy to be in your proximity. She must have been worried sick here all alone. Poor thing. You then go to the gate and slide the too-large bolts meant to keep any unwanted guests outside. Or inside in your case. ‘And to think nothing interesting ever happens around her, right, Bell?’ your rhetorical question is met with a bark of agreement.

[moony-ghoul]

the ghouls favourite ways to jerk off

dew: in someone else’s bed, he likes being able to smell someone else in the sheets

phantom: pillow humping obviously even better if they can listen to rain and dew fucking through the wall

rain: he likes eyes on him wether that’s someone else from across the room or his own eyes looking back at him in a mirror

swiss: anywhere risky. the kitchen, the common room, the library, the chapel. anywhere he might get caught

mountain: in the forest. it’s an elemental thing and also he gets to be as loud and feral as he wants also helps the plants grow

cirrus: love love LOVES using someone else to get her off without touching them. her favourite is grinding on their stomach

cumulus: she’s a wand girly she loves her wand she has so many different head attachments for it

aurora: truely a pillow princess. if she’s horny no matter time or place there’s always someone more than willing to eat her out she also has sensory issues and doesn’t like the texture of cum/lube

[everybodyshusband]

Do you have any thoughts on regressed Aether or Mountain? *shoves a bikkie into your pocket and runs to work*

thank you for the bikkie, troob !! <3 and thank you both for the asks !! i'm combining your asks (i hope that's alright) and this'll be one big ol' post about my current hcs for regressed ghouls :D

(under the cut)

~

when he’s regressed, aether is maybe around 7-ish years old (he and mountain are the two ghouls that don't tend to regress quite as young as the others). he likes kid’s cereals and orange juice for breakfast, and he’s always ridiculously sleepy in the mornings (some things don't change; he's ridiculously sleepy every morning, especially when he isn't regressed). he pretends to be too old and mature to hold cirrus’ hand, but if she thinks he needs a hand to hold, she knows how to trick him into it (usually with a "oh, aeth, this movie's really scary, isn't it? can you hold my hand and keep me safe?" when the scarier scenes in his favourite movies come on). his favourite game is doctors, and all he needs to do to get a playmate is pull the cutest little puppy dog eyes on swiss before the multi ghoul is dramatically collapsing to the ground with a cry of "oh, no, doctor aether! i've got a boo-boo on my knee, can you fix it??"

mountain tends to regress to 10 or 11 years old. he still loves his garden, and could spend all day digging for worms and climbing trees all around the abbey's grounds. he could live off of those chocolates that look like rocks, but he also can, and will, with zero regrets, sneak into primo's garden and eat his vegetables right off of the plant (most of primo's broccoli plants have ghoul teeth-shaped bites taken out of them, right in the centre). his favourite days out are picnics in the woods, especially with rain and cumulus. they'll sit on the picnic blanket and make daisy chains for each other and mountain while the earth ghoul pretends to go on important expeditions around the forest (all within sight of his supervising ghouls, but don't tell that to mountain) and excitedly comes back every so often for a snack, a daisy chain, and to recount his adventures.

i've thought/written about regressed rain quite a lot, (and my hcs for them keep changing, haha!) but in my defence, he's just so stinking cute, and the rest of his pack thinks so too. they consistently regress to about 3 or 4 years old, and he is absolutely obsessed with dinosaurs. he doesn't actually know a lot about dinosaurs, but he can talk about how cool they are for hours and hours if he's asked. they love hanging out with swiss when they're regressed because they insist that "swissy" gives the best hugs and loves rain's dinosaur plushies the most out of everyone. he tends to get a lot of pain in his legs when he's small because he toddles around with his feet turned in and that position makes his legs hyperextend a lot more than usual, but not to worry! they have a special set of crutches they use when they're regressed that are covered in ribbons and dinosaur stickers and coloured foam to help keep them feeling small even when they're using adult sized crutches (if he's wandering around on his own, he tends to forget about the crutches, but if he's with the other ghouls, they'll usually remember for him). i'm sure there's more i could say about regressed rain but i'll leave it at that for now :)

dewdrop's regressed age is a bit of a mix. some days he's more of a toddler and other times he's an infant (he's also been known to regress to the same age as aether, but that hasn't happened very often). he's very clingy, always needing hugs or a hand to hold or a touch of some kind to be in a good mood. when he isn't regressed he has an oral fixation and that doesn't change when he's little; he loves his dummies and teethers (he has little dummy clips for them that slip around his neck so he doesn't have to worry about holding onto a soother when he isn't using it) and if he's ever without one then something's not right. when he's an infant, he loves cuddling with cumulus. he'll sit on her lap for hours and hours, cuddling up with her and sleeping for as long as she'll let him (he's a bit like a cat in that aspect; once he sits himself on her lap, cumulus knows she won't be able to move for a good few hours)

no one has a clue as to where swiss gets his energy from. whether he's an older toddler or a child, he loves moving around, especially dancing (when he's regressed it's less of a dance and more of a wiggle but shh). ...that's the extent of my current hcs for him really, the little guy just really loves to boogie KJSFHJKDH he also really loves squeezy yoghurts and fruit pouches

(i still don't know what to call him, but) the new ghoul regresses quite small. either a really young toddler or an infant. they're not a big fan of dummies/pacis (whatever you want to call them) but they love teethers. he'll sink his teeth into one of those bad boys and be happy for the rest of the day (they're one of those babies that barely chews on the teether. they'll just kind of have it in their mouth and gnaw on it softly with their mouth still mostly open). he also loves snuggling up with the ghoulettes, but he's quite attached to zephyr, too! they'll curl up in zephyrs lap and let the old air ghoul read to them softly until they fall asleep.

~

i think that's about it !! i've only thought about the ghoulettes and other era ghouls as caregivers rather than regressors, but if i come up with any regressor hcs for those guys i'll put them in the reblogs :)

[discountdemonwarehouse]

Weekend Relaxation

Papa has been dealing with a lot of pre-tour stress and takes his favourite toy(s) on a weekend getaway.

Reader X Papa of Choice. F!/AFAB reader, but tried to be vague in describing body stuff so you can switch it up in your imagination while you read if you aren't a vagina-haver <3

A03 Link

MDNI!!! 18+ below the cut.

~3200 words. Contains: - light rope bondage - use of sex toys for repeat orgasms - use of sex toys for light stretching - squirting/female ejaculation - nipple clamps - PIV sex - fingering - tiny bit of oral - use of ring gag - light dominant Papa - affectionate degradation in pet names

Relaxation Toys

            Papa loved toys. He specifically loved using toys on you, and making you his toy. Ever since he’d walked in on you looking at naughty things on your laptop in one of the library’s small study rooms. He’d stopped his apology mid-sentence with a knowing smirk, leaning over your shoulder to closer examine the content displayed on the screen, his cologne teasing you. His hand had pushed yours away when you tried to desperately close the laptop. “There’s no shame, we all have desires.” Your face had flushed with heat, and you had tried to shyly deny everything out of embarrassment at being caught. “Don’t lie to your Papa,” he’d purred. Your silence had been answer enough, his smirk growing. “Would you join me later, caro? I don’t have those exact things, but they can easily be acquired,” he’d promised. Heat had flooded you, and you found yourself nodding. “Bene. Until then,” his lips had brushed your ear as he spoke, sending a shiver through you. Later that night you had stood in front of his suite, hesitating to knock on the door when it suddenly opened to reveal Papa standing in a silk robe, that devilish smirk on his face. “The ghouls sensed you, caro. Come in.” And that had been the start of your relationship and exploring your most secret desires.

            The stress of planning the tour was coming to a head and Papa was in need of relaxation. What could be better for his relaxation than a weekend in a private chalet surrounded by forests with his personal toy? And that was how you found yourself kneeling on a folded blanket on the floor, secured to side of the daybed in the chalet’s office, gagged with a wand toy buzzing steadily between your legs. You shifted your hips as much as possible, trying to grind on the wand tied to your thigh for release after Papa had left it just strong enough to stimulate you but not enough to orgasm. “You must be quiet, caro, I have a bit more business to finish before our weekend begins,” he’d told you as he’d strapped the gag in your mouth, turned on the wand, and walked away. Papa had recounted your safewords and actions while he secured you, placing the very jingly cat toy in your hand to drop should you need to. You could hear him at the desk, talking on the phone, seemingly oblivious to the wet whimpering noises coming from you across the room. The sensations between your legs seemed stronger than before, and you shifted to try and increase the pressure just a little, hoping it would be enough. The tiny amount of pressure you gained drew a noise of pleasure from you, your hips rocking. Just when you thought you had found a good rhythm, the wand slipped just enough to ruin everything. A frustrated moan left you, and you heard Papa’s chair creak as he stood. You tried to look towards him, but couldn’t quite turn enough. “Yes, that sounds good… Thank you. Addio.” The call ended with a beep. His footsteps moved towards you until he stood before you. “You’re not being very quiet, amore mio. Think who may have heard you on the phone, hm?” His hand stroked your hair, then tipped your chin up to look at him, his thumb slipping through the ring gag to hold you in that position. “Or maybe that excites you? Hm? Did it turn you on thinking about how others might hear you being pleasured at my whims?”

His free hand reached down, turning the wand up a setting and ensuring it was pressed against you. You moaned, hips jerking and eyes closing at the combination of his words and the wand’s vibrations. Papa pulled his hand away from your face, wiping the saliva from his hand on your chest. His hand moved down to toy with your nipples, rolling them and pinching lightly. These combined with the wand’s higher setting and close contact to your core were pushing you closer to your first orgasm since he’d tied you to the daybed. Sighs of pleasure and a few small whimpers left you, your eyes still closed as you gave into the sensations. You barely registered a metallic jangle as Papa’s fingers tugged one nipple more firmly, the sensation heightening your pleasure. Pleasure-pain engulfed that same nipple, the clamp squeezing it tightly, sending a jolt right to your cunt. Your eyes opened to stare at Papa’s smirking face as you whimpered and groaned. “Good toys do as they’ve been told, caro,” he whispered, fingers tapping the clamp a couple times gently, sending another jolt through you. “If you can’t stay quiet, well…” His hand had moved to your other nipple, toying with it as you shook your head no. Soon that nipple also sported one of the silver metal clamps, another pained moan leaving you. The pressure from both clamps and the jolt that went through you as he tapped the second clamp was enough to tip you over the edge, crying out as you orgasmed. Papa chuckled, still flicking the clamps lightly as you came. “Now imagine if that had happened when I was on the phone, amore. What would they have thought?” Your chest heaved as you panted, shaking the clamps and making you whine. Papa’s hand slid down to your wetness, rubbing lightly before he brought his hand to his mouth to taste you. “Molto bene. Now then, I have one more phone call to make. Try to behave this time, eh?” He walked back to the desk, leaving the wand on the higher setting, knowing it was enough to make you cum again, especially with the clamps.

You tried so hard to be quiet, the wand torturing your clit while your trembling body and heavy breathing jiggled the nipple clamps. The next orgasm was already building, and you focused on not cumming, able to hear Papa talking to someone about important tour things. You tried to focus on deep breaths with the ring gag in place, head hanging forward. A line of drool hit your breasts, its warm cooling in the air and causing goosebumps to spread on your skin. There was a moan building in you as the vibrations finally brought another orgasm to the surface, and you worked hard to keep it as quiet as possible. “Hm? No, no, there’s no one trying to get my attention,” Papa assured the person on the phone. Whimpers of pleasure were the quietest you could manage as the orgasm subsided. The clamps had become a steady, duller ache occasionally made sharper by a gasping breath. You prayed to Satan and Lilith that Papa would be done on the phone soon; you weren’t sure how much longer you could stay quiet. You were so sensitive now, making the wand’s vibrations feel more intense. Shifting your hips now was an effort to relieve some of the contact, unlike your earlier mission on the lower setting. “Let me know what the fire marshal says. After this call I’ll be mostly unreachable until the end of the weekend, but that’s likely not an issue – I’m sure their office is closed for this kind of thing. Speak soon, goodbye.” As soon as you heard the phone beep to end the call, you let out a frustrated wail, trying to beg around the gag. “Oh my poor, pet… Are you sensitive? That’s only two orgasms so far.” Papa’s hand stroked your hair again, tipping your face up to his once more. “One more and then I’ll give your clit a break, sì?” You whined, but Papa’s only response was to turn up the wand.

Your body jerked against the bonds holding you to the bedframe, an unholy noise leaving you at the increased vibrations. The movement caused the clamps to shake on your nipples, adding to the overstimulation. A series of groans and cries rang through the room, you no longer cared if you were loud. Papa’s smirk only added fuel to the growing orgasm. He rubbed the saliva on your chest with his fingers, caressing your body lightly and avoiding the clamps. His hand eventually reached the wand, and he shifted the angle slightly, sending you into your third orgasm. Shaking and crying out, you pleaded with him for who knows what, almost screaming when his other hand removed the nipple clamps and prolonged your orgasm. He let your hips grind on the wand for a few moments before turning it off, stepping close to you as you shook. You pressed your cheek against his thigh, feeling the bulge of his cock. The two of you stayed that way until you’d calmed and were breathing more normally, his hands caressing you as he murmured reassurances to you. “So good, my beautiful toy, so, so good,” he crooned. You could feel your eyes watering a little, and wondered if your mascara was running yet – not that Papa would mind. He knelt to be at eye level with you, his mismatched gaze meeting yours, hands cupping your face. “Good, pet.” He kissed your forehead, then started to undo the rope holding the wand to your thigh. You gasped as his hand replaced the wand, gently stroking your soaked cunt. “You didn’t think we were done, did you, caro? I only said I’d give your clit a break.” You whimpered softly, trying to pout around the gag and failing. He smirked at you. “I have a new toy for you,” he said in a devilish tone.

Finished with untying you, he removed the gag before helping you up to lay on the daybed. Papa gently urged your thighs apart before leaning down to swipe his tongue across your thighs and sex, tasting you again. You shudder at the contact, sighing. He kissed your thighs once more before standing. “Keep your hands on the bedframe, I’ll be right back.” You nod, taking the respite to stretch your legs and flex a little after being restrained. The evening sun came through the window behind you, warming your skin. Papa soon returns, holding something behind his back, looking smug. “Do you know what I chose for us?” he asked coyly. “No, Papa.” There were too many options to choose from. He chuckled, one hand tossing a bottle of lube on the bed. “Lube?” you asked quietly; that wasn’t new. “No, caro… This.” Papa held up a small toy with a pump attached to it. Your brow furrowed as you looked at it, trying to recognize it. Papa’s hand took hold of the pump, squeezing a few times and causing the toy to grow in size. Your eyes widened in both surprise and excitement. “Where does that go?” you asked, feigning innocence. “Wherever I wish it to, amore.” He deflated the toy, then reached for the bottle of lube. “And where do you wish today, Papa?” “I think this little cunt of yours, so I know you’re ready for me when I fuck you senseless.” Your thighs rubbed together unconsciously, excitement tingling in you. Papa sat beside you, squeezing an amount of lube onto his fingers before stroking you, teasing your entrance. “How’s your clit?” he asked quietly. “Still tender.” He nods, leaving his fingers teasing your hole and spreading the lube around. A contented sigh falls from your lips; you loved him touching you, despite how often it was teasing – especially then, really. Papa teased you for a little longer before sliding two fingers inside you, curling them expertly against the perfect spot to make you moan.

He continued to finger fuck you, adding a third finger after a few moments. “I hope you’re ready, my precious plaything,” he murmured, picking up the toy and adding some lube to it. You were practically sopping between your own slick and the lube, the toy slid in easily. Papa worked it in and out of you a number of times, watching you sigh in pleasure. He palmed himself through his clothing for a moment before his hand reached for the squeeze bulb. The air hissed out of it as he squeezed a few times, and you felt the toy growing inside of you, filling you pleasantly. Papa stopped inflating it and wiggled the base of the toy a little, a smiling curving his lips as you moaned quietly. “You know this isn’t all I’m going to do with this, sì? This is nowhere near large enough yet.” He leaned forward and took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking firmly on the tender flesh. Your eyes drifted closed, only to pop open again as the toy inside you suddenly grew again, hitting that prime spot inside you. You let out a breathy moan of surprised pleasure, arching up to him. You clenched lightly on the toy, sending more ripples of pleasure through your body. The toy hit just right that with a good series of clenches you’d probably explode with orgasm. “You like that, eh?” Papa smirked, watching you. “Oh fuck yes!” You hissed quietly, distracted by the feelings in your cunt. “I’m going to take you to your limits, piccola troia,” he growled softly, the tone making you hornier.

The toy grew again with a few more pumps of the bulb, you were starting to feel a little overstuffed, but the discomfort eased in a matter of moments. You couldn’t stop a small groan as your hips instinctively rolled to escape the pressure, causing the toy to push on that sweet spot again. “Papa!” You gasped quietly, hands clenching on the frame of the daybed. “I think you can take more for me, no?” he asked, stroking your cheek. You nodded, you would try. He inflated the toy more and you groaned, legs pulling up, thighs pressing together. A few seconds passed and you whimpered at the feeling of being stretched. “You’re so good, pet, so good for your Papa…” He stroked your cheek a few times with his gloved hand, smiling at you. His other hand brushed across your clit and your hips bucked, causing the toy to hit your g-spot and you to cry out a little in pleasure. Before Papa you’d never dreamed of actually trying these things, and now you found yourself living out scenarios beyond your original fantasies. “I think your clit has had enough of a break.” Papa gently rubbed circles on it, his other hand reaching behind you. You moaned, hips gyrating towards his touch. “Feels so good, Papa…” “It’s not too much?” he asked, making eye contact, and checking in. You shook your head, “Green.” “Good.”

He smirked and you felt his hand leave your clit, quickly replaced by the wand toy on low. “Ah, fuck!” You hissed, pleasure washing over you. “Such a mouth, puttanella. I’ll have to use it later.” Your hips ground into the wand, your pussy clenching on the toy, your clit and g-spot working in tandem to drive you crazy. Unstoppable moaning came from your lips as you felt another orgasm swiftly building. “Papa, I’m gonna cum! Papa, please!” “Vieni per me.” You could swear he pushed the wand firmer against you, but it didn’t matter as your orgasm hit and you spasmed on the toy inside you. Your body shook and you yelled something as you came, feeling yourself gush. Papa laughed as he made a mess of you and the covers beneath you, helping you ride out the orgasm. You flopped back onto the covers, hands still on the frame, breathing heavily as he turned off the wand toy before petting your thigh comfortingly. “Do you like your new toy?” “Yes, Papa.” “Good. I do too. We might play with it some more this weekend.” You nodded in response, shifting a little as your body calmed down and the toy’s size became a little uncomfortable. Papa was able to read your face and reached for the bulb. “Let’s take this out now, caro. Ready?” He waited for your nod before slowly deflating the toy. The deflating caused a pleasurable jolt of its own and you gasped, hips jerking. “I hope you’re not too tired, because it’s my turn now. On your knees.”

Papa positioned you how he wanted you, kneeling and arms braced on the back of the bedframe, facing out the window into the woods. “I’m going to stuff you fuller than that toy, puttanella,” he growled in your ear. He rubbed his cock in your wetness, hitting your clit a few times, before thrusting into you to the hilt. You cried out, his cock dragging and hitting everything perfectly in your already sensitive state. He thrust slowly a few times before his hand fisted in your hair, arching your back as he pulled you back towards him. “Do you think you have another orgasm and squirt in you? I want you to flood my cock,” he snarled, snapping his hips into you. You moaned, trying to nod against his hand in your hair. “I think so, Papa.” “Let’s do better than ‘think so’, eh?” He railed you like that, hand drifting to rub your clit and hold your hips back against his. One of your hands braced on the bedframe, the other absently going to the window to help steady you, leaving a streaky print. You fucked back against him as best you could, losing yourself in the sensations of him. Papa ground out your name instead of a pet name, and you knew he was lost in it as well, desperate for the release he wanted for both of you. His hand left your thigh, and you heard the wand toy before you felt it pressed against you again. The fist in your hair pulled you further back, closer to his face as he leaned into you, lips on your ear. “I want you to drench my cock when you cum,” he growled, hips thrusting harder as he spoke. His words caused you to squeeze on him, making him gasp in pleasure and buck into you, hitting the sweet spot. A few more thrusts like that combined with the vibrations of the wand and you were thrown over the edge, body shaking, and your wetness soaking him. Papa’s pace picked up as you clenched around him, and after a handful of thrusts his cock jerked inside you, flooding you with his seed. A few slower thrusts as he dropped the wand toy, both arms wrapping around you and holding you to him. He peppered your neck and shoulder with kisses as he came down from his climax, still sure to hold you as you did the same. Soon enough he pulled back, just enough to help you lie down, cuddling you against him on the daybed. “I think we’ll need to reimburse the owners for this bedding,” Papa chuckled, a smirk on his lips as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Mm, probably,” you murmured lazily, still blissed out as your cheek rested on his chest. Your eyes fell on the handprint on the window, and you smiled slightly, “I’ll have to clean that window too.” “Might as well wait until the weekend’s over, amore, it may not be the only one.”

***

Italian translations: Caro - dear amore - love amore mio - my love Puttanella - slut/little whore (affectionately) Vieni per me - Cum for me piccola troia - little slut

~~~TAGGING~~ @fishwithtitz, @da-rulah

[buriedlove]

A Halloween party in a forest? It must be Eli’s turn…

Eli’s Halloween Party

Eli spun the decks in the heart of the forest, adrenalin pumping as he played some of his favourite tunes to a crowd of ghouls, goblins, and other creatures of the night. The forest was transformed into a magical wonderland, with decorations that transported guests to another world.

Towering trees were wrapped in glittering fairy lights, and giant mushrooms glowed with an eerie phosphorescence. Cobwebs hung from the branches like silver curtains, and bats fluttered overhead. Jack-o'-lanterns carved into all shapes and sizes lined the forest path, their flickering candles casting eerie shadows on the ground. Every detail had been planned by the Prince. Every decoration. Every drink. Eli knew how to throw a party that people would always remember, and this Halloween was no exception.

The party guests danced the night away under the canopy of trees, their costumes shimmering in the moonlight.

But even with the whole party happening in front of him Eli only had eyes for one person. The person he was really playing every song for. The person he’d hung every decoration for. He needed this to be their best night ever. He wanted every night with him to be their best night ever.

And as they smiled up at him, eyes sparkling, the crowd melting away around them, he knew that this was so much more than a Halloween party.

It was the beginning of forever.

[emeritus-fuckers]

pebble dating hc pwease :3

Why of course :D So excited to write something for Pebble - Nyx

Dating Pebble

He/him pronouns used for Pebble.

He's a very engergetic Ghoul. You notice him running around the Ministry, being mischevious. But he is shy around people he doesn't know, so you two haven't really talked yet.

But you could have sworn he often steals glances at you.

He has this ability to just appear from nowhere, which he does, often.

"Hi" He says with a large grin and tail swishing side to side. You jump sligthly but smile. You can see Terzo slipping away in the background, having probably been the one who nudged Pebble to speak to you.

"You wanna go on a date?" He asks trying to hide the slight blush. If you say yes he has the cutest most excited smile ever.

He'll take you on all kinds of cool and random dates.

It can range from taking you to see your favourite band to just going for a hike in the most beautiful forest.

If he takes you to a gig he will mostly watch the drummer and get really excited when they do something cool.

His tail will wrap around your waist pulling you close as he says in your ear "Did you see that awesome thing they did?" You nod, not wanting to dampen his enthusiam.

He then grins and kisses you on the cheek.

"Not as awesome as you are." It sounds cheesy but he means it, the look in his eyes is so genuine.

He is generally very romantic, will bring you back sweet little gifts whenever he is away.

Or he makes really comfy dens from pillows and blankets for you both to curl up in.

~

Written by Nyx. Edited by Nosferatu.

Taglist: @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @callmeicaro @thecuriouss @nuntia @dio-niisio @ethereal-maniac @mamacarlyle @mybotanicaldemise @igodownjustlikeholymary @natoncesaid @bloodmoon-bites

[rotten-hearts-sharp-teeth]

Building off of one of your tags, what is your favourite werewolf lore that you've incorporated, the one you love but couldn't use? And finally, the million dollar question: why didn't Millenium make more werewolves?

Do you suppose the curse wasn't contagious in the Hellsing Universe? The slim chance they couldn't get Hans to turn anyone into a werewolf? Or maybe Doc couldn't replicate it, despite being able to replicate vampirism?

Thank you for the ask! I've been meaning to write something for the werewolf lore in my AU but haven't had the motivation before now. Get ready, because we are about to deep dive into something I put entirely too much thought and effort into.

My favorite lore that I incorporated was actually the base for my story. As a paranormal romance reader, I enjoy the Fated Mates/ Mate Mark werewolf trope. There is something poetic and beautiful about being magically bound to the person you love for eternity. Unfortunately, I am also a horror media enthusiast :) I wondered how that would work if the werewolf you were bound to was actually the horror movie version. Bad boys in those types of stories always end up with a heart of gold, but what if they were not a good person? What if the monster was actually a monster?

An American Werewolf in London, Wolfenstein and Hellsing gave me my answer. Enter: Hans. Because there is no worse monster that I can think of than a n*zi werewolf.

One detail about werewolves that I absolutely love but wasn't able to use, is the brutal transformation sequence. I love skin ripping, bones snapping, graphic and gory transformations. I love the imagery of the beastly feral side literally ripping through the human visage. I couldn't use a damn bit of it though because HIRANO already set the canon for werewolves in the Hellsing universe 😒 but anyway. Mist shifting is nice too. I guess.

Ok! Now on to the big question. I would like to state that I am in no way bashing anyone who uses curse werewolves for their Hellsing AU. All werewolves are valid.

For me personally, I could not figure out why the third reich would go through all the trouble of making an army of artificial vampires when they had a perfectly good werewolf already under their control. If it was a curse or virus or something contagious, why only use one? It made no sense to me. Feral werewolves could have been dropped on the battlefield like ghouls. Virginal requirements (like vampires need) wouldn't have been an issue since they literally raised children to be soldiers. So, with those questions in mind, I decided to make my werewolves a different species. In my AU werewolves can only be born. They are not created and have never been human. That's why they are almost extinct and that's why my version of Hans behaves the way he does.

Now for some Midian history.

My werewolves are descended from an ancient species of shapeshifter that took the form of two apex predators during its time: dire wolves and early humans. This species went extinct of course, but their descendants spread out and became regional subspecies.

Hans is the last Werewulf. His species comes from the Black Forest of Germany and is where the legends originated. Werewulfs developed away from humanity, so they didn't need to appear that human up close. It's why Hans has such an inhuman mouth and lacks the ability to speak. He looks human enough from far away, but up close it is obvious that he is not. I have a long, extensive backstory on what happened to his pack and why he joined the war, but I think I'll save that for another time.

I will note that werewulfs cannot breed with humans. They are too far apart genetically.

Sabine is a Loup Garou and her genetics are a little more confusing. Loups developed closer to humanity and are more human passing than their German counterparts. Sabine's grandmother was a werewolf. Her grandfather was technically human, but carried a recessive werewolf gene that he passed on to her mother. Sabine's father was human, but Sabine ended up a very unlikely recessive werewolf. Her werewolf nature remained dormant until the ritual that bound her to Hans awakened that part of her. Sabine, like her grandmother, could only have reproduced with another werewolf or someone who carried the recessive gene.

So to sum it up, I do think the n*zis tried to make more werewolves. Once they found out it wasn't contagious, they formed the first breeding program. When that ended badly, they gave up on werewolves and focused their energy on something that they knew WAS transferable to human soldiers. Vampirism and the production of ghouls. The end.

[hypnoneghoul]

Mushy May Day 16. Weird/silly shared habits - SwissAlps

WC: 630

Read under the cut or on AO3.

Mountain loved spending time with Swiss not only because of his precious personality, but also because he was the only one to understand his elemental, hm, quirks.

Dew had Rain and Rain had Dew, the latter still enjoying water and being delighted every time he could spend a day at the lake with Rain. If Dew needed to focus on his fire, he had Ifrit and Alpha.

The ghoulettes had each other, plus Zephyr, Aether had Omega.

Mountain was the only earth ghoul left in the Abbey, his predecessor wanting to be sent back to the Pit after retiring from the Ghost project and having his wish fulfilled.

But then there was Swiss. He, in some way, was also alone with his element(s), as he was the only multi ghoul Topside. He liked tuning into certain parts of his essence to be able to fully understand one of the others, have some element-centric fun with them, or whatever.

But his favourite ghoul to do so with, was Mountain. The sheer amount of joy the earth ghoul emanated when Swiss would actually show interest in his plants, in walking for hours through the woods, in laying in high grass at one of the clearings in the forest, was addicting to him.

The others never exactly understood why, once in a while, Mountain would announce he was going out to return either at night or the next day. When it first happened with Swiss being a witness, he was immediately curious, and asked if he could join. Mountain was stunned and stuttered over his response that, yes, he would be delighted to have the multi ghoul go with him.

He warned Swiss that it would be boring, that he was going to take long and many more excuses that weren’t really excuses. Mountain really wanted Swiss to go with him, but he didn’t want to make the ghoul regret his decision. Thankfully, he replied to everything with an ‘I don’t care, I wanna go’. 

So, go they did.

Mountain led them out into the forest, then to the clearing filled with high but soft grass and tons of colourful flowers of all sorts. Swiss was, to say the least, amazed, and Mountain could barely contain his excitement for finally being able to spend time with someone who understood him.

Swiss asked the earth ghoul then, what he usually did when he came there, and Mountain just laid down in a starfish position, the grass nearly making him invisible with his green toned skin and horns, and Swiss didn’t wait a second before joining him. He settled in a similar position, bit to the side, and silence fell, only chirping birds, rustle of the trees and Mountain’s deep, rumbling purr could be heard.

Soon, though, the earth ghoul  started worrying his bottom lip between his fangs, a slight tinge of worry in his scent making Swiss perk up, “What’s up?”

Mountain didn’t answer, at least not with words. He just outstretched his long arm and pulled Swiss close to him, the ghoul immediately glueing himself to the bigger’s side, resting his head on his chest.

Hours passed, them two just laying together in the grass, purring, not caring about a single thing but nature surrounding them, and each other.

They, eventually, got back to the Abbey, and Mountain, though he didn’t need to, showed Swiss his appreciation for the time spent together in a way that was preferred by both of them over words.

It became their ritual, after that.

Every time Swiss would notice something slightly off about the earth ghoul, he dragged him out, or the other way around. Sometimes they are gone for a few hours, sometimes for over twelve, but noone ever worries for them. How could they?

[maplequeen94]

Okay have you ever bitten someone as an adult

have you ever found a dead body or its remnants

Favourite tea

Carrots or cucumbers

When was the last time you climbed a tree if you ever have

Would you beat you in a fight if you were fighting yourself from 5 years ago

Those are some oddly specific questions there Heam….you aren’t working for the Feds, right?

I’m willing to answer them on the basis of the honor system…just this once. 🧐

1. I almost said no until I remembered that I did in fact bite my friend for a Tokyo Ghoul photo shoot like, 7 or 8 years ago (They were Kaneki and I was Rize

Here’s the picture if you’re curious. I blocked out my friend for their privacy.

2. I’ve never found any HUMAN remains, but I’ve found plenty of animal bones. The coolest one I’ve ever found was a deer spine while my friend and I were taking cosplay pics of our OCs in the forest behind their parents house

3. Oh God 😖, I had to really think about this one because I’m actually not super picky when it comes to tea, but I got some tea from a local small business back in October that is 👌😩✨💕, but THIS ONE is my favorite that I got from them.

4. Carrots 🥕

5. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever climbed a tree now that I REALLY think about it. I wasn’t a super reckless kid growing up plus I get really bad vertigo if I’m too high up/ off the ground.

6. Lol no 😂, but me from five years ago couldn’t beat present me up either. Literally our fight would just be this the whole ass time:

[ligovskaya]

sunshine ghoulette moodboard

look at our cottagecore lesbian

1st photo: field of flowers -> imagine her frolicking through this field, giggling and laughing with the ghoulettes trying to catch her

2nd photo: outfit -> she's giving lesbian librarian in a small town

3rd photo: books -> she doesn't read much, but pretty floral covers have her heart

4th photo: another outfit -> she doesn't care that the dress is white, she's gonna wear it to the forest and get it dirty

5th photo: look at our sunshine go!

6th photo: flower crowns -> she's an expert in making flower crowns for her darlings, she matches the flowers to their outfits

7th photo: lemonade -> it's her favourite drink (she sweetens it too much, no one except her and dewdrop can drink it)

8th photo: picnics -> her favourite way of connecting with her beloveds

9th photo: swing -> a fairytale like swing where all her best ideas come to her

ghoul moodboards: 9/10 all photos were found on pinterest full list of moodboards

[shaykesqueer]

O Rose, Thou Art Sick

Chapter Four: You’re Only Human

Chapter Links | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | AO3

Summary: Mountain and Sunny want to take Fox on a tour of the Ministry gardens and show off their magic.

Word Count: 4.8k

Content Warnings: 18+. Sunny gets a little too rough roughhousing with some Siblings, but no one is hurt.

Notes: There’s a lot of flowers and plants in this chapter! This is where the metaphors and my endless gardening research gets real heavy. Also fall in love with Mountain and Sunny like I did?

The Ministry greenhouse was supposedly not very far from the Ghoul den, but Fox suspected Sunny and Mountain were taking them the long way round. The scenic route, they considered, as it was mostly through the forest that trailed beside the lake. Incidentally, the Ministry had an entire lake on the property. Sunny made lots of gleeful promises to the tune of taking them out there to swim and showing them her favourite spot in the mud to dig for worms. She had been particularly keen to tell them that in the late summer-time, there would be raucous parties out on the water and on the banks, held late into the night by the light of the fireflies. She said the Ghouls had done so every year since she had been summoned. Which had only been two, but her enthusiasm was unmatched. Mountain had also been quick to add that he liked it just as much when the lake was frozen over, and that it could be at any time of the year thanks to another Ghoul by the name of Cumulus. 

Fox quickly noticed that Sunny was the more talkative of the pair. She seemed to verbalise any thought that entered her head, no matter how flippant. Or terrifying. It wasn’t just that she didn’t appear to have a filter, so to speak, but it was as if she was just so excited to share each impulse that she physically couldn’t help herself. And next to very sweet, impulsive was definitely her defining trait. If the incident with the arm hadn’t proven that, then watching her roughhousing with some passing Siblings along the trail definitely did. No limbs were removed- this time - but there was some unfortunate clawing and hair pulling. In her defence, Sunny had fallen into a flurry of apologies once she’d realised what she’d done. She had combed her fingers through hair, petted heads, licked wounds, and nuzzled shoulders until she was convinced the Siblings were good as new. In her defence, the Siblings seemed to know just what they were getting into and they accepted her sorrys and kisses just as enthusiastically. Sunny’s excitability didn’t end there though. She had the obvious habit of losing her train of thought, with her attention constantly being pulled in so many directions at once like pieces of thread that frayed with every tug. Luckily, she had an endless spool. While listing off the best spots for undisturbed napping (an empty nook in the ossuary, under the library tables, and a hollow on the edge of the forest that she’d dug out all by herself) she muddled her words and trailed off no less than three times because she was busy trying to catch passing butterflies.

Mountain, on the other hand, was something of a gentle giant. Fox was beginning to think that he didn’t like them due to the fact that he’d been so quiet on the walk. Being famously unliked by many people in the past, Fox wanted to believe they were past letting that bother them. But seeing Mountain trail so far behind them, hardly moving sometimes, did make them feel a touch awkward. More than once, Fox turned back to see the Ghoul staring into the dense thicket of trees and so far away it almost looked like he didn’t tower over everyone. Fox even watched him pause to sit cross-legged on the grass, lost in whatever was floating around in that head. It wasn’t until Fox themself became distracted by an unknown flower and then became dwarfed by his enormous shadow that they realised the two of them would become fast friends. 

Fox held a sudden and vast respect for the Ghoul after he described the flora, explaining how and where it bloomed, how delicate it was to take care of. His voice was deceivingly soft and he spoke with such enamour that it was easy to share the enthusiasm he felt whilst telling Fox how to brew a very calming tea from the flowers, that was incidentally perfect to enjoy on rainy days. 

After that, Mountain was eager to point out each and every flower, tree, long grass, and mushroom, and relay his thoughts on them. Fox was more than happy to watch him become just as bouncy as Sunny while he did so. 

When they reached the greenhouse, Fox was surprised to see the state of it. They had assumed it was going to be an overrun mess of tangled vines and pocked leaves, divided by broken windows, dying from the inside out. To say it was in a fine condition was selling it short. It was a grand Victorian glasshouse, worked with webs of spindling iron atop hundreds of geometric panes, the building spanning a full acre at least. The interior was quite ghostly. It wasn’t abandoned, per se, just bare. Colder than it should’ve been, with only a few choice spots decorated with warm sun beams that curled around the pillars and walkways. Fox was surprised Sunny hadn’t mentioned this on her list of napping spots. There wasn’t a huge variety of plants, but they appeared to be well cared for. There was an abundance of tomatoes ready for harvest, along with freshly planted chilli plants, and slowly emerging carrots. Fox would’ve liked to see the latter in a slightly less heavy soil, but they were carefully planted and thriving nonetheless. The obvious pride of the greenhouse was the collection of sunflowers that decorated a small alcove. They came complete with tall artificial lights and strong scented soil that left wet dirt stains on Fox’s fingers. Someone was looking after these plants and taking great care in doing so. Fox suspected it was most likely a select few, Siblings or otherwise. Their chest twisted in disappointment, in shame for all this wasted space, haunted by dusty clutter. They were already conjuring up ideas on how to turn it into a verifiable oasis of fruit trees and orchids, cacti and begonias, a cloud of greens to go with those ripe vegetables. 

As it turned out, the greenhouse was only a detour on the journey the Ghoul pair had planned for Fox. When they’d originally left the den, Sunny had said she wanted to 'show them around' , having grown obviously tired of the other Ghouls’ obnoxious antics. She had been itching to leave and if Fox hadn’t been also, they were sure she would’ve yanked their hand off pulling them up the stairs. Along the trail, Fox was beginning to think that perhaps claims of the horrid state of the grounds had been greatly exaggerated- damaged and deteriorated seemed far too harsh to describe it. Of course, there was a definite weed problem, and the landscaping could use some seeing too. But it wasn’t unredeemable. At least, that is what Fox had thought until they saw what they were told was supposed to be a cemetery. It didn’t look so much of a cemetery as it did an overgrown, overflooded glen with bits of brick rising out of the ground. To say Fox was appalled was an understatement. Saying the land had ‘gone to shit’ was even an understatement. Between Mountain’s hurried steps and Sunny’s unusual quietness, they got the hint to not linger very long. Seeing even the Ghouls so ashamed of it was the real twist of the knife. 

Fox’s lamenting came to a halt very shortly. Down a number of twisting stone pathways and beyond a line of gnarled trees was the first real garden Fox had seen here. It was quite perfectly managed, circles of charming gravestones decorating moving water features and topiaries sculpted into huge, expressive faces. There was little in the way of actual flowers, but those that were there were all dark with splashes of pink and red, petals shaped like brushstrokes and all arranged in swirling, hypnotic patterns. There were also signs of life here. Siblings sat on the edge of fountains sketching and skimming the water with their fingertips, and there were several Clergy members strolling together as well. The state of it was enough to make Fox seriously doubt their need to be here for a moment. They learnt from Mountain that any Siblings scheduled to maintain this particular garden were either overly enthusiastic about it, so much so that they bordered on fanatical, or they were scared to the point of having a nervous breakdown. Either way, it usually ended in tears. The upper management ran a very tight ship on this particular garden and it was perhaps the most well looked after place on the exterior grounds. The beauty of it all was as impressive as it was intimidating and so Fox was filled with terror at the prospect of having to take over the upkeep of this one garden. There were plenty of shit-hole pieces of land around here but if they fucked up the nice one, dear God, they’d be flayed! What if the Clergy thought they couldn’t hack it? They didn’t know a lot about water features in all honesty- what if they broke something? A gardener they certainly were, but a sculptor? Of trees ? Any minute, the people around here were going to realise they’d made a mistake hiring them. Fox felt they were one out of season flower, one wrong type of soil, one light up a cigarette one morning and burn the whole forest down mistake away from getting thrown into the wood chipper. Before Fox tried to hide the feeling, there was nothing to hide but relief when they were assured by Mountain that the Clergy was so focused on this garden as more of a formality. This was Nihil’s garden, after all. From what Fox had gathered, Nihil was the grand patriarch of the Ministry. The Big Daddy, so to speak. He was also quite dead, but that didn’t seem to stop him from making appearances. Fox was somewhat unsure what that could mean, but they decided it was probably best to not go looking for things they did not want the answer to. 

On the other side of the garden was a second. The Ghouls told Fox that there were a total of five bordered gardens like these ones and that they were laid out sporadically along the grounds in no particular order. This garden belonged to, or rather was in honour of, a man named Secondo. Nihil’s second born son. Fox had asked what his first born son was named and upon learning it was Primo, they decided that Nihil was quite possibly a terrible and uncreative father. Secondo’s garden had a distinctly creepy vibe to it. Sinister wasn’t exactly the right word, it was more of a sadness. Just a bitter, impenetrable sadness. Fox supposed in a way it was quite sinister, in that respect. The main difference between this garden and the last was that this garden was engulfed by a thick canopy of tree branches, making the whole area so dark that it felt like walking straight into the night. Or it would if not for the streaks of sunlight spraying through the boughs. Fox imagined this was a very good place to come and cry. If a lover left, if someone died. Not that they would have need of such a place or for such a thing. The plants in the garden were doubly unusual; Fox recognised some of them but for the most part was quite in the dark. The beauty of the place was not lost on them though. They were informed after some time that nearly everything planted here was poisonous, which made Fox all the more impressed. Most of the plants looked healthy enough, and the sheer variety was staggering. Apparently, Primo’s garden was something of a herb garden, both in the literal and euphemistic sense, and signs were constantly being put up to deter Siblings from mixing the two gardens up. That job was promptly bumped up to the top of Fox’s list: make a much more obvious sign. 

Upon exiting, the sudden flood of light was blinding. When their eyesight finally came back to them, they squinted in confusion against the glare of the sun. “What’s that?” they asked, pointing towards a small incline across the grass. It was gated off and the only thing housed inside was what looked like a large inverted crucifix. It looked unusual against the bravado of the rest of the gardens and it hardly stood up to the interiors either, which were so far away at this point that there didn’t seem to be much use to it. 

“That’s Papa’s garden,” Sunny replied with a nod, to which Fox wrinkled their nose. 

“That’s a garden? I thought it was an empty construction lot,” Fox said. The closer they got to it, the worse it became. Despite the minimal plant life, which was comprised mostly of thorns and brambles and weeds, it felt less than barren. The inverted crucifix might have appeared sort of impressive from a distance but now that Fox was in front of it, it was rather small. There were a few other decorations, if they could be called that. There was a well. There were some stones. The best item by far was the ceramic goat head. It was also the gaudiest item. And the item with the worst paint job. “Is this what it’s supposed to look like?”

“Sort of,” said Sunny, who was sitting atop of the fence with her legs swinging underneath her. 

“What do you mean 'sort of’?” 

Sunny shrugged. “He likes it.”

“There’s no way anyone wants a garden with their name on it looking like this.” Fox idly turned a rock with their boot. It was a shame, really. It wasn’t that bad of a spot. Fox could envision wildflowers and strawberry plants, a grove of fruit trees, bleeding heart and mountain-laurel and lavender. It could be beautiful. It was more than telling that there was no response from either Ghoul. Mountain was busy fiddling with a stray vine that was wrapped around his fingers. Watching that was far more enchanting than the actual garden, but it seemed like rather unfair competition. Especially considering the small leaves that were miraculously flowering from the vine. 

Fox approached Mountain slowly, doing nothing to hide their amazement. It couldn’t be real, could it? It’s a trick. A good trick, but still a trick. It didn’t take long for Mountain to notice their stare and he turned to look up at them from his spot on the ground. For the first time, Fox gave him a really good look, considering his ghoulishness. He had strong, grecian features- a wide, flat nose and deep pink eyes, like a rabbit’s. His hair was a dark copper, more red than Fox’s, but his most striking feature were the horns rising up out from his forehead. They were broad and curled like a ram’s, but they twisted around dark and ashy like tree branches, peppered with fleecy green moss. He could’ve looked human. Could have, but didn’t. It wasn’t just the obvious fiendish horns, or the witchery. Like the other Ghouls, he had an atmosphere around him. It wasn’t as concentrated as the others Fox had noticed, not as obvious or easy to place. Dew’s was more of a warmth, a bonfire. The beautiful Ghoul (who they had been told was named Rain) was calming and bright like the moment a storm breaks. Sunny’s was the most infectious, all fireworks and pinwheels. But Mountain’s? It was like a song. A song on the wind that made the earth around him feel more alive. The most subtle, but the most convincing. Maybe it was magic. 

Without a word, Mountain curled his hand and beckoned for Fox to join him. They crouched over onto their knees, eyes set on Mountain’s enormous palm. A dot of purple broke through his skin and unfurled from the centre of his hand, the splash of colour sprouting upwards. It chased Mountain’s fingers, dots blooming into flowers on the ends of delicate ribbons of stem. Fox was entranced and they were sure there must have been stars in their eyes. They didn’t care, they couldn’t look away. Before long, Mountain’s hands were engulfed by flowers. Bushels of them danced over his fingertips, blooming in a trail up his arms. Before they could think not to, Fox reached out. But then hesitated, their smile faltering. With everything they knew having come into question of late, there may have been some hellspawn etiquette they were unaware of. It was more than likely either way, but they didn’t want to offend Mountain by showing interest in the flowers. Hesitation melted away quickly when the Ghoul gave them a gentle nod. The petal was soft between Fox’s fingers, as silky as they’d expected, and they laughed. “These aren’t even in season,” they said under their breath. 

“What are they called?” Mountain asked and Fox turned their eyes to him, frowning. 

“They’re crocuses,” they said. ”Do any grow around here in the winter, or the spring?” 

Mountain reached over his chest, arms creaking like the boughs of a great tree, and he plucked a flower from his shoulder. He held it up to his face and let the petals brush against his nose. He remained still for a moment before shaking his head. 

“You can make flowers that you’ve never seen?” Fox was stuck watching Mountain in awe, watching this utter giant of a Ghoul sat so soft and thoughtful, and swathed in strokes of caressing purple and yellow and green. “How?” they asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Mountain said. “It just comes to me.” Carefully, he held his arms out in front of him and overturned his palms. The flower petals swayed against the breeze, trembled and flitted on their stems, until specks of them began to break away. The flowers caught the wind and a curling wave of petals rose from the Ghoul, floating into the air like confetti. 

“That’s amazing,” Fox whispered, craning their neck back to watch the petals dissolve into the sky. Their attention dropped to stray strands of grass-like stems that fluttered to a nearby patch of earth. It was bare save for the specks of loose gravel and the new plants sweeping over the ground. “What about over there?” Fox pointed to the patch. It didn’t exactly look like the optimal place to grow, well, anything. But with the Ghoul’s magic coursing under the surface, Fox could only imagine what impossible, beautiful flora could spring forth and actually rejuvenate this garden. And within moments. 

Mountain laughed and it broke Fox’s wonder briefly. It was a kind laugh. Low and rumbling. He quickly explained that, as lovely an idea as it was, he wasn’t able to conjure plantlife from just anything. Only himself. His hands, his skin. With no effort at all, a cluster of tiny blue flowers bloomed upon the crown of Mountain’s head and ran in streams around the curve of his horns. Fox muffled a gentle laugh behind their hand and Mountain smiled in return. “You should ask Sunshine,” he said, arching an eyebrow past Fox to the Ghoul behind them. 

Sunny was still perched on the edge of the fence and she looked at Mountain with a playful scoff. “You know I’m still practicing,” she said with a shake of her head, her bright curls ruffling. She bounced off her seat and looked down at Fox. “I can only grow things a little bit.” Sunny folded her arms across her chest. 

After a pause, Fox stood up. They reached deep into their belt pouch and fished around at the bottom of the polyester until their fingers grazed the rounded corners of the card wallet they were searching for. “Could you make these sprout?” they asked gently. They pinched the sides of the wallet and tipped it over into their palm, five or six beige pebbles tumbling out. They were rose seeds. Seeds that Fox had collected from all over for so many years. It pained them to admit it, but it was their one horticultural defeat. They couldn’t cultivate roses. Not from seeds, not from scratch. And it wasn’t as if they hadn’t tried, of course they had! From makeshift milk crate gardens hanging off rusty window ledges to verifiable Edens in ever sustainable communes, they had tried. But it was always fruitless. They’d spent many a night beating themself up over the failure too. But, as proud as Fox was, they weren’t quite foolish enough to deny the help of magic wielding demons. For once, their roses might just have a chance. If Satan himself could pull this one off, Fox was willing to take a closer look at that dwindling faith of theirs.

Sunny bit her bottom lip and shot an apprehensive glance between Fox and Mountain, who was still folded upon the ground. Fox found it strange to see such nervousness cross her features, and they began to feel a little bad about causing it for a moment. But Sunny held her breath and scrunched her eyes shut and put her palm against theirs. Her hand was warm and only grew warmer the longer she held on. At first, Fox didn’t really feel anything. But as Sunny’s face smoothed out, her fingers arched as if she was conducting an orchestra and Fox felt pinpricks ripple over their hand. It only took a few seconds before she stopped, tentatively lifting her hands. 

And there it was. 

Sunny let out a burst of vibrant laughter and Fox gasped. Wispy green tendrils spiralled from each of the seeds, roots creeping, tangling. They couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that these rose pits that had been stuck and neglected for so long had sprung into seedlings in a matter of seconds. Fox was sure their mouth was hanging open cartoonishly, was sure their breath was caught in their throat, those stars in their eyes more like suns now. They laughed, they couldn’t help it, and their free hand went to Sunny’s shoulder and then her face. Fox could have kissed her. But then Fox looked around, head whipping in a desperate flurry. Before they could even fathom how lost Sunny looked, they were tipping the seeds into her palm, curling her fingers around them to keep them safe. 

“Keep an eye on these. I’ll be right back,” Fox rambled out and quickly made a break for the greenhouse. When they met the fence, they slung themself over and slid most of the way down the hill. Their soles ate up the ground beneath them until they could get their hands on trays and  flower pots nestled in corners of the greenhouse, packing them full of soil they gathered from an already open bag. In a narrow attempt at avoiding the garden gate, Fox skid on the dirt when they arrived back, kicking up a cloud of dust that spread over their clothes as they slid down onto their knees. There came a blur of feverish motioning alongside oppositely gentle potting, with all the care and caution as if Fox were performing a surgery. Once the seedlings were neatly tucked into the soil, packed in lovingly and sealed with a kiss, they finally caught a breath. 

“We could have roses in maybe a month,” they gasped out, leaning back on their heels. “Actual roses.” Fox looked up to their right where Mountain crouched beside them, clapping a hand onto their shoulder.

“Rose bushes? Here?” Sunny said and when Fox stood, they saw her looking around incredulously. 

“Not full bushes, not for a few years,” they replied. They understood, it was a little unbelievable to think anything could actually grow in this garden, other than tumbleweeds and disdain. “But these will bloom and we’ll get a whole plot out of them.” They would need attention, and lots of it. Fox wasn’t concerned though. There was no room for doubt when they were positively brimming over with excitement. Excitement and pride that lit a fire under their skin. With a clap bringing their hands together, Fox fell into an animated pace across the garden plot. They relayed plans, all tumbling out, spilling out of them as soon as they popped into their head and interspersed with thank yous to Sunny, who fawned over every fleeting pat to her arm. The first thing to go would be that well. Not only was it a waste of space, but the damn thing was falling apart! The entire left side was caved in, leaving a trail of dusty, broken stones, with cracks in them large enough to fall into. That’s where the lavender would go, Fox thought. And said, outloud. And there- bleeding heart. Right by the gate. Fox’s hand snaked a path across the ground, running along to an imagined burst of plum trees and berry bushes. It wasn’t until they reached one edge of the fence that they realised they’d been raving with abandon, and had gotten themself quite turned around. 

“But, uh, what do you think?” Fox asked with a stuttering hum, trying to laugh. Mountain, whose attention had been caught by a line of ants marching across the dirt, pulled a face. Fox picked up a loose stone from beside their foot and huffed before throwing it over the fence. Next to them, Sunny barked her own laugh and did the same. Hers flew even further. The arch of the stone brought Fox’s eyes back to the fence and they set their hands upon it. They shook it, gently. And it shook. Gently. Fox promptly became distracted with the thought that maybe they could get away with replacing the fence. Or some of it, at least. 

“I think,” Mountain began. “You should plant things that Copia likes.” 

“Who?” they said. 

“Papa.” Mountain finished with a nod and Fox sniffed. They weren’t quite sure whether it was a good or a bad sign, the Ghouls being on a first-name basis with the man. It was probably nothing to be troubled by, it should’ve even been expected. Perhaps their impression had been sullied by the way Terzo spoke about him. Which hadn’t been an awful lot, but Fox was surprised he hadn’t pulled a muscle after the one mention strained him so. Perhaps they were just annoyed themself at their idyllic vision for this garden slowly fading under whatever whims this Papa had. Or maybe they were annoyed they’d let themself get so carried away. 

Fox leant back against the fence. “What does he like then?” 

“Ask him yourself,” said Sunny. Fox followed her arm, her pointed finger over the fence, down the curve of the hill, and to a figure standing at the bottom of it. 

He was perfectly still and staring up at them, his hands hidden beneath the dark robe he wore. Fox’s brow creased, trying to see anything more than an outline of a man. They couldn’t tell what kind of expression he was holding, if any at all, and they could only make out the vague impression of his features because of his heavy skeletal face paint. It was almost ridiculous. Almost. If anything, it made him look surprisingly stately. As aloof as one could be while painted up like a halloween decoration. Fox felt uneasy, and it wasn’t just the innate foreboding of looking upon the Ministry’s figurehead, not just a pope but that of Satan himself. It was familiar. Disturbingly so. 

When they turned to look back at Sunny, her face was already split into toothy grin and she was practically trembling in anticipation. Her hand shot up straight in the air, as far as she could physically reach, and she waved. She waved in the broadest, the most enthusiastic, the most rip-your-arm-off-from-the-force-of-it way she could have possibly managed, and Fox paled immediately. They stuck a hand in the crook of Sunny’s elbow and pulled her arm down, embarrassment colouring their face once the Ghoul only laughed. Her smile never wavered, not even once. Why had they done that? Trepidation over having to meet the guy? Fox had survived both their meetings with Terzo and the Ghouls, and they had to admit they weren’t unhappy about the outcomes. So why were they nervous? No- shit- they weren’t nervous. They were just coming down from the high of getting those roses planted. 

“Does he like roses?” they said eventually, slowly, their words creaking out like they were hanging off dull hinges. They looked at Mountain, not too keen to light Sunny’s spark again. But Mountain shrugged, and Fox frowned. Copia was gone by the time they glanced back down the hill, with no trace of even a shadow, vanished as if he had only been a spirit. 

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