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spooky-pomegranate · 3 months

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Eyes on Fire (pt 2)

*Enemies to Lovers inspired by the Year Zero music video*

Papa Emeritus II x Reader (18+)Word Count: 3.4k (Part 1) (Read on AO3) (Part 3)

Summary: Hoping to escape the headaches of Imperatrix's life you spend time in a forbidden section of the Abbey. Meanwhile, a sleepless Papa Secondo goes for a walk in the early morning hours to clear his mind.

(Dividers by @wrathofrats)

There was only one place you wanted to be...

A place far away from Papa’s dining room, the bustling great hall, and the dormitories flooded with siblings preparing for a night full of debauchery and sin. You wanted to be in the one place that felt most like home with the people who felt most like family. So you climbed. Stride by stride you moved down ancient and worn stone steps covered in cobwebs and dust as you made your way toward the ghoul dens.

The Abbey had stood on the same grounds for hundreds of years. In that time many improvements had been made. A swimming pool was added in the 1890s, the great hall was expanded in the 1920s, and more recently the kitchens had gone under a total rehaul, with new top-of-the-line appliances and expresso machines flown in from Italy. But the one place the ministry hadn’t touched in all those years was the space below.

The basement of the Abbey was a restricted section for all siblings. Partially because it was a bit unsafe and partially because the ghouls were too much of a handful to be trusted with nice things. There was no electrical power down below. The stone walls in the basement were lit only by candle sconces that threw around long casting and eerie shadows. To those unfamiliar, the basement probably looked more like a crypt than it did a home for hell-spawn creatures. But the ghouls liked it that way and so did you.

At the bottom of the stairs, you snatched a candle from one of the wall scones. For some reason lately, there had been an influx of rats scurrying around the Abbey. The last thing you needed was to accidentally step on one. That might just send you to orbit.

By candlelit, you followed the halls through their maze of twists and turns before stopping in front of a massive set of wooden double doors. A large bronze knocker cast in His image hung from the center. You picked it up and slammed it against the splintering wood door three times.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“Yeah. Yeah,” you heard a familiar voice call from the other side. “Hold onto your granny panties would ya.”

The door groaned in a heavy sigh as it opened. A scrawny maskless ghoul stood in the entryway. Two white horns protruded from the crown of his head and ashen black skin covered his body. When his orange eyes met yours his spaded tail flicked from side to side.

“Hey! What’s up little snack pack?”

“Hey, Dew,” you sighed. “Can I come in?”

“Sure thing babe.” The fire ghoul bowed with a flourish and waved for you to enter. “Right this way little lady. You look like shit by the way.”

You rolled your eyes as you stepped past the ghoul. The main room of the ghoul den was decorated in what a generous person might call an “eclectic style.” Mix-matched furniture from varying decades was strewn around the room in random places. A few soft carpets were layered on top of one another to confront the cold that seeped into the stone floors during the winter months and much like the stairs leading to the basement, candles burned on the walls basking the place in a soothing warm and yellow light. It wasn’t beautiful. It wasn’t even that clean. But maybe because this was the only place in the Abbey that wasn’t dripping in opulence, it felt like being wrapped in a warm hug. And you needed that right now.

In the center of the room, Cumulus and Auoroa lounged on a lime-green sofa. On a small coffee table in front of them, snacks and drinks were laid out. They waved for you to join them.

“Hey guys,” you said, plopping down on the couch between them with a huff. Dew grabbed a guitar from a table by the door and sat in a chair across from you. Aimlessly he started picking at its strings.

“Hey, love,” Cumulus said smiling from your left. Like Dew, her skin was the color of burnt embers but her eyes differed. They were a beautiful soft gray. The same color as the sky before an evening storm or the pebbles on the beach by the lake south of the Abbey. “What are you doing down here? Shouldn’t you be in that shiny new suite of yours? Mountain told us it was real pretty.”

“Honestly today’s been a day,” you answered, sinking further into the couch. “Just wanted to hang out if that’s alright. Unless you guys had plans. Then I can fuck off.”

“Nah. No plans,” Aurora assured you, popping a chip into her mouth before offering you one. “We were just gonna practice for a bit. Unless you wanna talk about your day?”

“God no,” you answered, taking the chip. “Listening to you guys sounds really nice actually.”

“Oh thank Satan,” Dew huffed. Both Cumulus and Aurua shot the fire ghoul daggers and he stopped strumming the black and white guitar in his lap. “What?! Don’t lie you both wanna sing. You have been begginggggggg me to practice with you. ‘Dew please play with us,’” He impishly sang. “’Dew no one plays like you. Please Dew. You’re so talented with your fingers Dew.’”

“No one said that,” Aurura grumbled, throwing a chip at him. It landed squarely in between his eyes.

“Also we don’t sound like that. Plus if she’s having a bad day some humans like to talk about their feelings,” Cumulus added, picking up another chip and throwing it at Dew. “It’s called empathy dipshit.”

Dew stuck out his tongue and you laughed. You were surrounded by idiots. Sweet and loveable idiots. You were feeling better already. After a few more minutes of juvenile bickering, the hellspawns eventually settled down and started to play.

For as long as you’d known Dew he’d been a cocky shit, always bragging about his skills with a guitar. But as you listened to him play you knew he’d earned every brag he’d ever boasted. He was a magician with strings. Plucking and picking with a mesmerizing mastery that had to have been a gift from Satan himself. But the ghoulettes were just as spellbinding. Their harmonizing voices bounced off the high-bowed walls like sirens, lulling you into easy relaxation. At some point, you decided to crawl off the couch and lie on the floor, curling up in a pile of pillows and blankets and letting the music soothe you.

“That’s really pretty…” you murmured half-asleep, during a short break in the music.

“Mhmm. It is,” Cumulus purred from her spot on the couch.

“What’s it mean?”

“You don’t speak Latin?” Dew asked incredulously, before taking a long draw of some water Aurora had passed him.

You propped yourself up on your elbow and looked back at the fire ghoul. “Eh. I’m a little rusty.”

“Through hardships to hell.”

“What?”

“That’s what it means,” Dew answered, setting his water aside. “Per aspera ad inferi. It means through hardships to hell.”

“Oh,” you said shirking back to the floor and into your covers. It hadn’t occurred to you that this song might be incredibly personal to the three ghouls. They had quite literally crawled through hell to be here in this Abbey and serve the ministry. They had come from the real below.

“Did you guys come up with that?” You didn’t know much about their journey. You’d always assumed it wasn’t your place to ask or to know, but the song… it had been so haunting and yet… so strangely familiar. Even though you hadn’t understood the words, the music had clung to you. Like thick sticky syrup, it had swirled into your blood and mixed in your veins. You felt an inexplicable connection that was as old as time.

“No. We didn’t write it,” Cumulus said quietly.

“Who did?”

The three ghouls looked at one another. Seconds passed like minutes.

“Papa.”

There wasn’t much point in staying in the dens after that. You’d come down here to escape thoughts of Secondo only to be reminded of him all over again.

The climb back toward your suite didn’t take long. The Abbey was quiet this late at night. The hallways were empty of their regular hustle and bustle. Most siblings were asleep in their beds or tangled up in the sheets of another. You reached your door in record time. You pulled out your brass key and slid it into the door... but it was already unlocked.

You heard the crackling of your fireplace before you saw him. He was seated with his back to you in one of the tufted leather armchairs across the room. There were no lights on and you couldn’t see his face from the doorway, but none of that mattered. You knew who it was. Only one person owned the tense curve of those broad shoulders. It was him. It was Secondo. He was here in your room.

“Do I repulse you, sorella?” His voice boomed over the fire.

You froze in the doorway. Legs cemented to the ground, heart ready to bound out of your chest. What was he doing here? Had he come to expel you from the church? Was he going to smile as he tossed you out on your ass?

“Speak up sorella,” Secondo commanded. “I will repeat my question. Do I repulse you?”

“N-no, Papa,” you managed to squeak.

“Come here. I want to look at you while we have this conversation.”

Fuck. So this was it. The sadist was going to make you leave right here and now in the middle of the night. You moved across the room and into the dancing firelight.

After what had happened in the dining room you weren’t prepared to meet Secondo’s eye line again. So you delayed it. Slowly you looked him over, starting at his feet and working your way north.

Secondo wore a pair of black Oxfords, buffed and polished so pristinely that you saw your reflection staring back at you. A few inches higher black socks peaked out from underneath a pair of crisp black slacks. And on his steadily rising and falling chest, he’d opted for a button-down of a matching color. A black and emerald Grucifix hung from his neck. Head to toe he was dressed in black.

He looked like an undertaker. You closed your eyes. You weren’t ready to be laid out on his slab.

“You will answer me honestly, sorrella. No lies to your Papa.” It wasn’t a question but you nodded anyway.

You opened your eyes and looked at Secondo’s face. Since dinner, he’d washed away his sacred paints. A pair of dark aviators were perched on his crooked nose. He looked every bit like the Papa the siblings whispered about. An angry, bitter man, full of rage waiting for a spark to ignite his fire.

“You won’t partake in the offerings?” He questioned.

“No, Papa.”

“It is late, sorrella. I will not drag this out. Tell me your reason and do not lie.”

Secondo was right.

It was late. The clock in the corner of your room had finished its 24-hour cycle and the hours had reached into the early morning. But you were sick of having this conversation. You were sick of defending yourself. Fuck it. If Sister Imperator hadn’t told him you would—cards on the table.

“I don’t like to be so casual about who I have sex with.”

For a moment Secondo looked confused before he burst into a fit of laughter. Bending at the hip, he slapped his gloved hands on the arms of your chair. “Say that again sorella. That is the funniest thing I’ve heard all day.”

You wanted to slap him. Anger pooled in your stomach. Your fist clenched at your side. “I believe sex means something more when there’s more than just a physical connection.”

Secondo laughed again and you bit your cheek. “You know you sound like a Catholic when you say these things. ‘Means something more.’ Are you going to tell me that the next sister I sleep with I should marry and that I should make as many babies with her as possible?”

Secondo rose from the chair and stepped toward you. Inches separated you. You could smell his cologne. Rich and deep. Sacramental incense lingered on his clothes. He stared down at you over the ridge of his nose. His brows cast long, and angry shadows over his already glowering features.

“Do not confuse our rituals for something deeper, sorrella.”

“Of course, you would misunderstand me.”

The words slipped from your tongue before you could think twice. But you didn’t want them back. You meant it.

You’d seen Secondo.

You’d watched him as he moved through the Abbey every day and every night. He only ever thought of himself. He was a taker, never minding what others needed. What others wanted. So why would a conversation here and now be any different? Why would he consider any other person’s perspective but his own? He didn’t even remember what he’d said to you. How he’d hurt you.

“Watch your tone diavolessa,” he growled. “I am your Papa.”

Exactly right, you thought. You are my Papa but you are not my owner. My maker. My master. You have no right to claim me or to force me to do anything. I own my destiny. Not you. You took another step closer to Secondo, the front of your habit brushed against his dress shirt. Unafraid you tilted your chin up. Fire blazed in your eyes. Heat emanated from his chest.

“Apologies, your dark excellency. I will ask Sister Imperator to move me back to my former post in the gardens.” You didn’t want to give up your new apartment but you’d rather fight for lukewarm water in the communal showers than deal with him another day longer.

“That is…” Secondo paused and you closed your eyes bracing for the blow. Send me away. Do it. Send me back to the land of the undeserving and misguided. Do it now. I’d take them over you. I’d take anything over you. “Thatisunnecessary. I will see you tomorrow.”

Without another word, Secondo brushed past you and walked out your door.

There was no point in going back to his quarters. Secondo wouldn’t sleep. He hadn’t slept well in days. Tonight would be no different. There was too much on his mind.

He needed to clear his head.

So Secondo stepped out into the night.

The air was crisp and cool. Fall would be here soon and the flowers would shrivel. But for now, life still breathed in the grounds and the air still smelled sweet. Secondo followed the dirt path from the south entrance of the Abbey down to the gardens. His older brother had taken meticulous care of them since his retirement, practically spending every waking hour pruning and pampering his beloved piccoli fiori. Primo’s obsession had grown so strong that he’d even moved out of the Abbey’s suites and into a small log cabin on the edge of the ministry’s grounds so he could be closer to his work.

But Secondo hadn’t minded.

It made Primo happy and he could still find his brother for a chat whenever he needed to. If it weren’t for the early morning hour he would have sought out Primo for one of those talks now. The old man was more of a comfort than his father had ever been and his mind had been a mess for weeks. But the sun was almost up. Surely Primo in his old age was sound asleep somewhere. So Secondo chose to stroll the grounds alone and linger in the messiness of his mind.

He wandered through rows of vibrant roses and multicolored hydrangeas, passing various fruit trees and flowering cherry blossoms until he reached something he had not seen before. Underneath a centuries-old weeping willow, Primo had planted something new. In tightly packed rows narrow plots of spectacular white and pink flowers bloomed amongst leathery deep green shrubs. It was beautiful. The shrubbery looked like rhododendrons, but the flowers… Secondo had never seen anything like it. They resembled the cooper bells that hung in the Abbey’s highest towers.

He needed to smell them.

Secondo crouched down on the dirt path and reached for their pretty petals.

“Careful fratello.” Secondo quickly dropped his hand. “She is not so friendly this one.”

Clad in a red robe, Primo emerged from the dark path. His hands were clasped behind his back and he eyed his younger brother with a loving smile.

“Shouldn't you be asleep fratello?” Secondo asked, pushing off the ground with a groan that denoted his age and stood to his full height. “The sun will be up soon.”

“Ah, I was going to ask you the same,” Primo’s smile widened, strolling over to stand next to Secondo. “Do you like the fiori? They are beautiful, no?”

“Si. They are,” Secondo answered truthfully. “New additions?”

“Not entirely fratellino. Many moons ago these flowers used to surround our little Abbey. If you would indulge un vecchio uomo I would like to tell you their story.”

Secondo nodded, “Of course, Primo.”

The elder Emeritus led his younger brother to a stone bench under the willow tree. They sat down together. Secondo looked over the rows of flowers as his brother began to tell his story.

“Before you and I, walked these grounds there was a beautiful sibling who cared for the fiori and impianti. She came to the church with an extensive knowledge of botany and quickly thrived here. From the things she grew, she established the first apothecary in the ministry. She helped many siblings. She was happy and content. Eventually, she fell in love with a brother and he with her. But one day when the sister walked these grounds she witnessed a betrayal. Her mate with another. Her heart was broken. But the sister would not let this indignity stand. She introduced a colony of bees to the garden and let them feed on the nectar of these very beautiful fiori.” Primo’s gloved hand pointed to the rows of pink and white bell flowers in front of them.

“And then the ever-patient sister waited. She waited and pretended everything with her lover was bene, while in the night he continued to be with another. But after a time she returned to the garden and to her bees. She collected their honey knowing their nectar had been poisoned by these beautiful fiori. One evening the sister made her lover a pot of tea and added a spoonful of her wicked honey. As he drank the brother’s lips began to burn. Pain flamed his mouth and throat. He withered and convulsed in pain for hours. The legend diverges here. Some say the brother died. While others claim he recovered but fled the ministry in fear of his beloved’s vengeful wrath. In both versions of the tale these flowers were ripped from our grounds.”

Secondo sat quietly trying to make sense of his brother’s story. Ever since he could remember his elder brother had used longwinded tales to teach him lessons of the world or of the church. But tonight for the life of him, he could not figure out what Primo was to say. What did these poisonous flowers have to do with anything?

He was too tired. A puzzle was the last thing he wanted. He couldn’t hide his annoyance.

“Why are you telling me this brother?” Secondo asked exasperatedly. “You know I don’t care about these plants the way you do.”

“Ahh,” Primo hummed. “That may be true but tastes change fratellino. Things we once thought were insignificant can become valuable to us, no?”

“Primo I don’t under-”

“It’s nice to have beautiful things around, even if we cannot touch, si? Even if we cannot taste?”

Secondo raised an eyebrow. “What have you seen fratello?”

“It should not matter what I’ve seen. You must see for yourself.”

Secondo angered. Standing quickly he spun and stared down at his brother. “How quickly you forget what it is like Primo!” he shouted. “I need guidance. I don’t need this. I don’t know why I bother when you only speak in riddles.”

Secondo turned his back and stormed away from Primo, but before he got lost amongst the roses he heard his brother's voice.

“He has not forgotten you nor have I. Patience fratellino. Plans are already in motion. You will not be denied.”

(Follow along on AO3 here)

(Part 3) (Back to Part 1)

#secondo x reader #papa secondo #daddy secondo #secondo #secondo emeritus #ghost secondo #ghost #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost the band #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus ii fanfiction #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus ii x female reader #papa emeritus secondo

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ghoultrifle · 11 months

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gamer rain who also loves creating games. everything from coding to design, he has a knack for all of it.

for christmas he makes each of the ghouls their own personalised minigame :')

aurora gets an arcade claw machine simulator

dew gets his own version of pacman

mountain is gifted with one of those relaxing zen games that have pretty graphics

phantom gets a car parking game because he's obsessed with the idea of parking (it's the autism)

cumulus gets a lil jumpscare horror game like Granny

swiss receives a cookie clicker type game

cirrus is in love with the racing game she got

aether doesn't use technology so is given monopoly but each place is the location of somewhere they've made memories together

rain's love language is giving gifts and he's so damn good at it

#trifle rambles #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #ghoul hcs #rain ghoul #aurora ghoulette #dewdrop ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul

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tokyo-debunkers-headcanons · 5 months

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Frostheim Ghouls with a sassy gn! MC (+ tiny drabble)

JIN KAMURA

Personally, I think Jin would be surprised by their sass. It would piss him off for sure, but I think he'd find it refreshing....after a while. He don't take shit from anybody especially not some New 'honor student', certainly not at first but I think there's some heart under all that royal ice. He'd get used to it in his own way. (Now onto a short drabble.)

Jin glared daggers at his phone. He reread the message the new 'Inspector' sent him, only getting more annoyed with each glance. He had ordered the Inspector to come to his room. Not only did they take their sweet ass time to respond but they had the nerve to tell him that 'they were busy'. He was the king damnit! He had better things to do than wait for them to decide to text back or show up. He quickly sent a message to Tohma to check on them, make sure they didn't do something stupid again with the second year Ghouls. He ignored Tohma's smart-ass response in favor of laying back down. Having to bail out that damn Inspector was starting to be a real pain in the ass. He'd always come when things got rough however, not that he would admit it.

TOHMA ISHIBASHI

God! I think Tohma has been WAITING for someone to try him. He is a sass master and a known smart-ass. He KNOWS how to throw whatever sass MC gives him right back at them with flair. Even if they get along, he will always find some way to sass them back, even if it's subtle. (Drabble time!)

Tohma's practiced smile didn't falter for a moment when MC told him they knew how to play chess. If anything, it got even wider. He sat back up straight in his chair and gestured to the board, saying,

"Please do forgive my assumption. You have the starting move."

MC was no master at chess, but they knew the rules at the very least, so they thought it wouldn't be that hard....how wrong they were. In only a short while, Tohma had them in check, having quite a few of their pieces and even their queen. MC looked down at the board in shock, they looked back up at Tohma, his smile still present as he said,

"Forgive me. I thought you said you knew how to play,"

KAITO FUJI

I feel like Kaito's granny forced fed him some respect people soup every day when he was growing up, so I don't think sass would shock him that much until it was pointed at him. He gets SHOOK whenever gets sassed by MC, no matter how many times it happens. He always apologizes profusely, berating himself for being a moron out loud. He just really wants to get with MC and if being sassed is the price, mans will do his best to pay it, but he will blame someone else if he can get away with it. (To the drabble!)

Kaito went pale at MC's tone, he didn't mean to talk for them. Damn Luca couldn't read the room. He wanted to have lunch alone with MC but Luca had to butt in and tag along. When MC yelled at him he felt like a kid getting scolded by his Granny again. He took a breath and crossed his arms, apologizing to Luca. He turned to MC apologizing for speaking for them. Offering to buy them another crepe to make it up to them. In his mind however, he was already deciding his next move for anoyher chance.

LUCAS ERRANT "LUCA"

My best boy! (I'm not biased i swear/j) I honestly think MC would be more sarcastic than sassy to Luca. He's just doing his best and he wants his bro back. He 100% doesn't get social cues so it goes right over his head or he just takes it literally. He'll genuinely apologize for making them upset. He will also a deep bow and a small pack of biscuits as an extra layer to his apology. (QUICK ROBIN! TO THE DRABBLE!)

Luca paused, looking back at MC. It took him a moment to think about what they said, but even then, he didn't quite understand what they meant. He turned to them, asking,

"Did something I say upset you?"

Luca bowed deeply, keeping his head down as he said,

"If that is the case, then I apologize. If I ever say something insensitive again, please correct me. I hope you can forgive me."

He held out a small pack of biscuits with both hands, keeping his head down until either MC took the biscuits, accepted his apology, or explained that they weren't actually upset.

(There you have it folks. Honestly Kaito's is the weakest, I'm sorry. But someone's gotta start the headcanon train!)

#tokyo debunker #Frostheim #Jin Kamurai #Tohma Ishibashi #Kaito Fuji #Lucas Errant #Headcanons #Let MC be sassy #Tokyo debunker headcanons

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internetskiff · 9 months

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I don't know if what I'm saying is wrong but I keep seeing such weird Inscryption takes (mostly in regards to.. shipping???) pop up on my dash that are filled with such needless ridiculous vitriol that I find very hard to take seriously when the character roster is basically

- Asshole Gameboy

- An actual fucking forest deity from Slavic Mythology

- Granny Ghoul

- Magic Torture Bush

like r we really gonna be throwing stones at eachother over stuff like this, man?

Main point being I think some people take this game just a little too seriously when we're talking about a card game that has a fucking doomsday device priming code hidden within it's files and the four old people in charge are too busy using it to kill eachother out of pure petty drama instead of doing anything about it. Let people have fun with it methinks. Like I personally think Leshy and P03 are funnier as a divorced couple that hates eachother's guts but I'm not out here frothing at the mouth because someone likes to draw them in an active relationship. Literally all four of them are total weirdos that want eachother dead you can literally pair up any of them and make it work. It's whatever, man.

#inscryption #the scrybes #rambling #p03 #leshy #grimora #magnificus #btw if you try to turn this post into some kind of battle arena over this shit know that you are exactly the problem #i literally agree with some of your takes but you word it in such a hostile manner i feel like reconsidering #feel like i might be shoving my whole arm into a beartrap just by saying this but oh my godddd it's so annoying to read

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mariamakeslemons · 5 months

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I'm playing in @ghouljams sandbox, with a tiny, hurt child. She's a combination "normal" person and unable to see her own hurt.

I don't own Witch, that's Ghoul's OC/Reader insert. I do own Racheal/Lilac.

Racheal shakes as she hesitates to knock on the door. Granny told her that the witch living here may be her only hope of actually understanding the magic she has. But the witch here also has ancestral magic instead of having to rely solely on the magic her own body creates. Which Racheal has to do. Swallowing around the lump in her throat, the girl knocks on the door and flinches at the sound she’s made, clinging to her barely made grimoire tightly.

The door opens and the prettiest woman blinks down at her, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Are you lost, sweetie?” she asks Racheal. Squeaking, the girl shakes her head and hands the woman her Granny’s letter. The woman blinks before accepting the letter, frowning at the writing before turning back to Racheal with a smile.

“You might as well come in, okay?” the woman offers with a smile. Racheal nods and scurries in, glancing over her shoulder nervously. The woman hums and moves through her house with ease, leaving Racheal to scurry after her.

“So, how old are you, sweetheart?” the woman asks, as she opens the letter.

“…E-eleven, ma’am,” Racheal answers, flinching at the woman suddenly stopping in the hall. Slowly, the woman turns to look at Racheal, her hand moving to toy with the hagstone necklace she has.

“…Eleven,” she repeats, and Racheal can’t do anything but nod. Granny always said she was too stupid to start learning when everyone else started, because she couldn’t even tell what the difference between using lavender or using sage would do to certain spells as a five year old. The woman closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before a smile crosses her face.

“Well, let me finish reading this and we’ll start outlining what to do to help you,” the woman offers with a nice smile. Racheal perks up at that, eager to learn what she can and hopefully please at least one of her teachers.

“Y-yeah! That s-sounds like a plan!” Racheal agrees, flinching at her stutter. Granny told her proper witches don’t do that, but she can’t really help it. It just comes out. But, she thinks while looking up at the woman who only smiles at her excitement, maybe it’s just a coven thing.

“Okay,” the woman says after Racheal dropped off her meager belongings in the spare room she had pointed out (Racheal wasn’t really allowed too much, she was too stupid to own things according to Granny), “Let’s lay out some rules. One, I’m to be called Witch, okay? That is what the majority of people know me as, and it’s easier to remember than knowing my actual name.”

“Y-yes, ma’am,” Racheal agrees easily enough. That’s easy to remember. Miss Witch smiles at her, her eyes softening nicely.

“Now, I need to know your fae name,” she instructs, “Because that’s what I’ll refer to you in public with.”

“It’s S-Stupid,” Racheal answers. Miss Witch sighs and smiles, almost looking amused.

“I’m sure it’s not, sweetie,” she says, “You don’t have to be shy.”

“Oh, uh,” Racheal starts, realizing that Miss Witch didn’t understand, “N-no. I m-mean, my n-name. It’s Stupid.” Miss Witch freezes, her smile in place, but something brewing under her pretty eyes. Slowly, her face changes to something thunderous and Racheal shrinks on herself, waiting for the strike that’s sure to come. She’d deserve it, after all. She upset Miss Witch.

“No,” the woman says, startling Racheal, “I’m not calling you that. We’ll think of something else.” Racheal blinks at her, confused by her reaction as Miss Witch hems and haws over a thought.

“What’s your favorite color?” she asks suddenly. Racheal jumps, blinking at her in shock.

“…I can h-have one of th-those?” Racheal replies, stunned. She’d heard about that sort of thing, favorite things. Granny told her that only smart people could have them, that she’s too stupid to have any kind of preference. Miss Witch hums and nods, although something in her face tells Racheal that she’s angry. But, she wants to know what color is her favorite. And she really likes purples, especially light purples like…

“Lilac,” Racheal decides.

“Then, that’s what I’ll call you,” Miss Witch tells her. Racheal, Lilac, smiles and nods eagerly, only to jump at a knocking noise from what looks like Miss Witch’s backyard. The woman huffs, almost fondly, before patting Lilac’s head.

“Stay here, okay, sweetie? I need to speak with someone,” she tells Lilac with a smile. Lilac nods eagerly and stays right there, although she wonders if Miss Witch would be upset if she sat on the floor. She’s really tired from having to stay up to catch the train, then the plane, then the bus, then the other train. Maybe she can sit for a minute, then stand back up.

“I’m going to kill a fellow witch,” you chirp to Price, holding back every piece of rage you feel. He raises a brow at your declaration, surprised that you decided to greet him with that.

“Is it the little one in your house?” he asks, curious.

“No, she’s the reason why I’m ready to commit murder,” you tell him. The poor girl is too thin and small, obviously malnourished. Then there’s the stutter and that name. Oh, that name. And to top everything off, the witch who sent her wrote the letter like complaining about a stray animal that needs to be put down, not a child that needs to be guided.

“Deep breaths, love,” Price soothes, reaching across the bricks to grasp your hand within his. You comply, taking a deep breath before slowly letting it out.

“She’s eleven and, according to the letter, she barely knows what the herbs do, let alone any spells,” you tell him. Price freezes at that, obviously understanding what you’re implying. After all, witchcraft is a craft, one that must be started young to be able to use the magic safely and confidently. Most witches start by reading to their children from their own grimoire, teaching what a symbol or plant means and is used for.

“…A child,” Price sighs, smoke pouring out of his mouth like a waterfall.

“An abused child,” you correct, watching as he breathes out of his nose, hard. Smoke bursts out of his nostrils like a bull or a dragon, an anger burning in his eyes and you find yourself at ease.

The relationship between children and fae is always tricky. A child could be coveted or prey, depending on the fae in question. However, with Price’s reaction, you can tell he would rather burn down the world than harm a child. Perhaps it has to do with how children are easy prey, something that Price has told you was boring. Perhaps it has to do with what little you’ve found out about Ghost, the fae following L- no, she needs a different name… Pink? Sunny? Ugh, well, the fae that follows the Shop Keeper’s friend around.

“I’ll tell my boys to behave around her,” Price said, pulling you from your musing. He smiles, “That’ll spread the word that she’s under my protection.”

“You don’t even know her,” you argue without any heat. Price chuckles, leaning against the wall with that sly grin of his.

“You like her, pretty witch,” he purrs, sending a shiver down your spine, “That’s more than enough for me.” You huff, but the smile that fights its way on your face probably tells him how amused you are by his declaration.

“I should finish getting her settled in,” you tell him, brushing your hand against his own. Price catches your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’ll see you around then,” he promises, giving your hand a soft squeeze before pulling away. You turn back to your home and go inside, only to stop and sigh. Lilac is curled up on the floor, asleep, with her grimoire clutched in her arms. The dark circles under her eyes tell you how little sleep the girl gets and you feel another wave of anger threaten to drown you. How could anyone do this to a child, let alone one who so obviously wants to please? When you get the chance, you’re going to burn down the witch’s house and adopt the girl. Or, maybe help her find a family if you can’t.

#my work #captain john price #Witch #Price x Witch #Racheal Lilac #@ghouljams #I don't know what the fuck I'm doing with contacting people #TW: Child abuse #It's only a mention but still there

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mchib · 4 months

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I need some Rize and Shuu friendship headcanons!

thank u anon!

i want to say ive never written a fanfic or anything of the sort so im not experienced in that field of writing but i do like do do character analasys and like headcanoning things so feel free to share any opposing views!!

first and foremost i feel like they have a common character flaw that they expect nothing less of an extravagant lifestyle even though both of them attempt to uphold and fulfil this different ways i feel like they would find great company in like luxurious or over the top things and they could perhaps be one of the only people that dont harbor distaste or skeptical feelings towards each other upon learning of the others hobbies. they also have certain tastes and are both picky eaters in their own ways so i imagine a lot of discussions would be had about what characteristics make someone more tasty. that being said i think shuu would continuingly tell rize that shes way too messy and she should invest in self control or at least be more private about her eating habits lolol.

i also feel like they would find solace in each others company talking about like art and philosophy although i imagine shuu already had more than enough people to rant to i think that rize would definitely genuinely listen and engage. if they fought or had a disagreement i imagine one of them being stuck head first in a concrete wall and then shuu would refuse to to her for like a day and call her a barbaric hoodlum behind her back but no real feelings or resentment would comply. i feel like a normal person having a conversation with any of the two would somehow contain an interference of something along the lines of 'woah woah woah you cant say that man thats too far' because they both make pretty morbid jokes but if it were just the two i feel like they would feel as though they could freely speak their mind without anyone wondering how they were raised or what set of events led to such absurd jokes being recited in such grim circumstances.

i feel like shuu would feel sort of be offended meeting rize upon hearing that her insides were used to turn kaneki half ghoul as even when kaneki loses all sanity his and rize's personalities are not compatible in the slightest, and so before learning to get over it he would feel kind of awkward around her because he wants to be mad at her but he knows it wasnt her fault at the same time so hes trying to be civil about it. meanwhile she would think of him as an antisocial snob and try to brag to him about how she made something of herself without being spoon-fed and is able to manage her giant appetite while on the run from the ccg and ghouls alike.

when shuu is like in his terminally ill granny state i feel like she would stay by his side but also be discouraging saying stuff like 'men should suffer in silence' and 'a public execution would be more appealing'. i feel like when they go out together shuu would try really hard to convince her to clean up so they can look fresh as hell and go fancy places but rize always ends up consuming some random homeless guy on the street. rize gives off 'i want to be with the bourgeoiseses' vibes but when they come around she just doesnt want to put in the effort. 'just kick reason to the curb and come with me!' (can you tell i do lyric analasys).

i feel like rize would like use shuu's rich people resources to make stuff like lets pose a hypothetical that ghouls could eat cookies. rize would use shuu's kitchen and ingredients to make the most foul tasting cookies and then put a sticky note on them telling shuu not to touch. then he flips out. rize is also very not used to not having to do dishes or anything in his household so she feels weird about being emptyhanded while others make the food. she'll be trying to hide her pleasure with being treated with such luxury but you can definitely see her grinning at the dinner table. we know she has table etiquette from her and kaneki's date but whats to stop her from completely disregarding all manners when shes in the presence of ghouls? i feel like she'd be kinda gross the first few times over cuz men aint shit but she kind of grows into being at least presentable at dinner.

when they r in the car shuu wants to be passanger princess but he doesnt trust rize behind the wheel. hes not the hero we deserve, but hes all we have right now. irrelevant but if rize was driving she'd like crash on the highway for fun or something. she has a fake license that says something like risse kaminishi from district 12

ok thats all i can think of rn & sorry if i mischaracterized shuu im not nearly as much of an expert on his character but i do enjoy him a lot

#tokyo ghoul #not a character analasys i fear #felt goofy writing this but it was fun #rize kamishiro #shuu tsukiyama #tokyo ghoul re #headcanon #thanks for the ask!!#kudos 4 making me think about shuu #i have like 20 followers tho so ik who u are #:3

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ask-the-clergy-bc · 8 months

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Kinda random, but can you do the papas/ghouls with a sibling of sin who crochets (preferably nonrimantic/platonic relationship but you don’t have to) also hope you have a good day/week :)

Never be afraid to ask for platonic/friendship/non-romantic requests! I’m always happy to do them :)

Also, crocheting is the BEST! I’m so excited to do this!

I hope you enjoy and have a good night yourself ❤️

G/N Reader

Platonic friendship

Era V Ghouls

Fluff/light hearted prompt

Papas and Ghouls with a Sibling of Sin who Crochets

Papa Nihil: One of his most prized possessions is a vintage styled blanket you made for him. It’s a granny square blanket with trim, and in the warm colors you’d find in someone’s 70’s inspired house. It reminds him of the ones he used to love and it stays on the back of his couch. You have been roped into being his movie buddy. So while you both are watching cheesy horror movies, you share the blanket as he watches and you crochet more!

Papa I: Papa adores your crocheting! Most of your time spent together is basically you both doing a quiet activity while lightly chatting. You with your yarn and he with whatever task he’s appointed himself that day. He has commissioned you for pot cozies for his favorite old plants. They comically break up his dark decor, but he adores them. You even picked a yarn that feels good sensory wise on his hands! Whenever he finds old books about yarn and needlework he gives them to you. It actually got you into lace making as well!

Papa II: He has a reputation for being a luxury goods type of man, and many wrongly assume he wouldn’t like hand made goods. But Papa has a deep respect for any skill based craft. Depending on what you make may or may not interest him, but he admires your skill. You once crocheted him some very tasteful doilies. Papa uses them under his favorite bottles of alcohol to really bring out his display shelves. He has gifted you high quality wool yarn before.

Papa III: Acts like everything you make is divine. Because to him it is! Papa also has a deep love of craftsmanship. But be aware, he LOVES getting hand made things from you! Papa will happily commission you for whatever pops into his head. Or if you’re making something he will go, “I want one too! Make it in purple?” Papa delights in being a friend and patron of you, no matter what you make. His favorite is the time you made him a sweater for his birthday! He wore it all day and bragged about having a one of kind piece of art from you.

Papa IV/Cardinal Copia: Copia tends to get lost in watching you crochet. Like, he intensely watches your hands as you work. He can’t help himself, it’s so mesmerizing! He won’t admit how much he really wants stuff you’ve made. But Copia knows from experience how annoying it is to be pestered for your skill. He’s absolutely delighted when you make him a toy rat! It stays in his office on his desk so he can play with it while he’s thinking.

Aether: You convinced him to take up crocheting with you… and he LOVES IT! It’s actually thanks to you both that the band had those gold sweaters for the Christmas pictures back in the Prequelle days! You two had worked your fingers to the bone for MONTHS to get them ready! Aether finds a similar peace in crocheting the way he does with guitar. When he stayed back from touring he had more time to dedicate working with you. You even have your own sweater he made just for you!

Phantom: You have this chaotic ghoul so enamored with everything you make!! You even made him a tiny yarn ghost that he takes everywhere (affectionately named Phantom Jr.) you have tried to help teach Phantom how to knit with very little success. Oh well! He’ll just sit and watch you do it instead. Phantom always has questions and is just happy to hear you talk about it! Phantom Jr is placed in his front vest pocket at all times.

Aurora: Constantly begs you to go yarn shopping with her. Aurora actually has a brilliant eye for color and flair, so she happily picks out combinations to use for your projects. She became addicted to your work when you made her a pair of fingerless gloves so her prized claws don’t get caught. She introduced you to the rest of the band as, “my amazingly talented friend who made the gloves you’re all jealous of”!

Sunshine: Thinks you’re some kind of wizard, because how else could you do something so amazing?? Sunshine loves to sit with you and hold your yarn as you work. Sometimes they like to help and just untangle your yarn or re-wind some back into skeins. Sunshine is just happy to watch you make amazing pieces while they practice or do boring paper work next to you. They won’t admit they would love a fun hat from you!

Swiss: Has worn everything you ever made him and immediately shows them off. Swiss has mastered doing a fashion show walk as he models the newest hat you made. “Oh, is everyone jealous I have the newest crochet couture?” If you sell these he will tell EVERYONE! Thanks to him the whole band owns one of your hats!! He’s so proud of your skill and vows to get everyone in the ministry to adore your work!

Cumulus: You both accidentally became good friends thanks to your crocheting! You were taking commissions around the ministry to earn a few extra dollars and favors (as chores only gave you so much allowance). Imagine your surprised when THE Cumulus approached you with a want for a scarf. You ended up knitting the most gorgeous bean stitch cream scarf for her. While chatting during the commission times you both found you got along splendidly. Cumulus hasn’t let you out of her sight since, and wears her scarf every winter!

Cirrus: The pianist has made it her mission to stop others from pestering you for free crochet pieces. Specifically her fellow band mates. But Cirrus won’t lie and say she has a lot of pride in being able to say she owns one of your little crochet animals. You once made her a tiny yarn cat just because, and she adores it! When you both are hanging around you nearly cried seeing the little plush cat rest on her practice keyboard. According to Cirrus, that’s her song editor. Awww!

Mountain: You weren’t sure what he thought of, he’s always so quiet! You were surprised one day when he finally seemed to acknowledge your hobby by politely showing you a pattern. A yarn cactus plushie attached to a plush pot. Mountain explains he really wanted to see if you would make him something but felt too shy to ask. The drummer assuming that you made so many projects because you’re obviously swarmed by commissions! He was so grateful you made it and praises you for how well made it is. You were so flattered when he immediately showed the rest of the band what you made!

Rain: Adores anything cute you make! His favorite are the little animals you make from different patterns. Every time you find a new pattern he asks if you can make him one too! He has a whole shelf of small yarn animals and refuses to let anyone touch them. They are special because they are from you, one of his best friends! He especially adores the jellyfish with long yarn trails you made for his summoning anniversary.

Sodo/Ember: Thinks crocheting is badass but it’s a little low energy for him. He can’t watch you do it or it calms him down enough to want to take a nap (everyone begs you to keep doing it.) if you crochet around him and he’s tired enough he will just rest on you and sleep (with permission of course.) you have made him a hat to cover the time he broke his horn and Sodo refused to let anyone touch it. He has commissioned you to make gifts for the band many times!

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iamthecomet · 1 year

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Oh Comet,

I don't know why I am spending my Sunday evening thinking about ghoul balls, dicks and boobs just flapping and bouncing around but I here we are.

You know that when they're left to their own devices they run around the ghoul dorm naked as the day that they were summoned. Nudity is a normal thing for ghouls and they don't understand why some humans are so uptight about it. Dewdrop says that people are weird because "nobody is born wearing clothes". He has a point?

Unless it's practice time or he is out of the dorm for some reason Dew NEVER wears pants. You might find him in an oversized (someone else's) T shirt but that's it. No pants at all. If Imperator happens to walk into the dorm unannounced, he claims it is because he didn't feel like adjusting his tail.

Anyway, my point is that there are always balls and dicks and tits dangling and jangling in the ghoul dorm. If your sitting on the sofa in the common room at movie time and you turn around, you will most likely be eye level with Mountain's balls as he stands there behind you, one hand holding a bowl of popcorn as the other hand shoves handfuls into his mouth while he waits the next bag of microwave popcorn to be ready.

Sometimes the smaller ghouls (Dew, Sunny or Aurora) will climb up onto Cumulus and sit on her as if they are sitting in a Lay Z Boy recliner. They'll squish the back of their head or neck in between her boobs, like a head rest and nestle their butts down into her belly and thighs just like a comfortable chair. Pull up a blanket and within 5 minutes they're out like a light. They'll also sit on Aether that way too.

The funniest thing was that one night when Dew was sitting on Aeth as they both quietly read their books and ended up nodding off. One small ghoul using a larger ghoul like a chair, each with a book lying face down on their chest, reading glasses pushed to the ends of their noses, quietly snoring. Dew had a blanket pulled up on his lap like a granny and they both were wearing fuzzy slippers.

Swiss took a picture.

GREMLIN. Casual nudity ghouls my beloved! You know they genuinely don't care, barely even think about it half the time. It's an actual chore to get Sunshine to wear clothes at all ("they're so uncomfortable"). I think they do enjoy them from time to time for fashion reasons. They like to look good. But for comfort? Yeah, baggy shirts or sweaters with nothing under them. Sweatpants an no shirts. Just straight up nothing. You know Swiss has that photo locked an loaded too. Ready to send it out at a moment's notice for a variety of reasons. Aether probably has it as his phone background, honestly.

#comet comments #gremlin #shitghosting #ghoul headcanons #casual nudity ghouls #my favorite

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fallout-fucker · 1 year

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As much as I don't wanna take away from the 50's aesthetic of Fallout, a part of me wonders if any other country did progress past that era, mostly for the music and cultural movements. Like, how do we know the UK wasn't in a 70's hippie and/or 80's punk reminiscent era?

Sometimes I get this little headcanon that a lot of the same songs and music genres that came out of like the 50's-90's, perhaps even to the 2010's, still exist in the Fallout universe. Maybe not every artist, understandably, but a few? But the reason that there's only 50's music is that at some point a few decades before the Great War, America quietly and gradually banned the majority of music genres and songs because they didn't fit into the 'Clean, good, family-friendly' American culture they wanted. Also, it was a move the government made to control the populace. Take away art and music and things that could add to the already existent tensions due to the Resource Wars and such, and there are fewer things to stir the pot. If people aren't inspired by music and its influence, then maybe they won't be influenced to make a stand. It was a way to control them and keep them peaceful. Bring in more songs about love from the 50's, and people start settling down like in the 50's. Want people to embrace nuclear energy and robots, even if they're potentially a radiation risk? Atom bomb, baby! Have a few party songs, a few innuendo-filled songs (The Wanderer, Rocket 69), and one or two slightly political ones (Anything Goes), and they still think they have a choice.

The reason there's only a few songs in the games isn't just because they're the ones that survived the bombs, it's also because they're the ones deemed acceptable by the government and the rest were already destroyed. When I do think about this stuff, I always imagine people smuggling holotapes of music into the US.

Maybe Sole had a couple pirated holotapes? Maybe they never will again and that sucks. The 'Wealth might not even know there's other music. Perhaps Daisy heard some? Perhaps they try to remind one another how a particular song went, or what the missing lyric they can't recall is. They bond over hating the limited amount of songs now compared to what it was. It was bad enough when the US government discreetly banned ABBA, but now there's nothing. If Sole has to hear one of those songs again and nothing else, they'll go storming old recording studios and illegal Pre-War clubs themselves to find other music.

What I'm saying is, I would find it funny if the US is stuck listening to the same 40 songs, whilst people in other countries could be popping everything they have to Dancing Queen or Barbie Girl.

I like the mental image of someone fighting for their life against raiders to Gimme, Gimme, Gimme, or fighting glowing rats to Toxic by Britney Spears. What if Fallout-verse Taylor Swift is like 90-something when the bombs drop, and is now roaming the Wastes as a Little Old Lady Ghoul and the locals dub her as 'Granny/Grandma Ghoul'.

/Joke/Shitpost/

#Fallout #Fallout 4 #This isn't actually a headcanon I have I just think it'd be funny #Deacon needs to just play Somebody's Watching Me when he follows Sole around #Shitpost #Enjoy

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calder · 7 months

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Somewhere in America, a plain, able-bodied man of average build was selected for entry to the local Vault by the Societal Preservation Program. His name and history are lost to time. Shortly before the bombs fell, this chosen test subject heeded the instructions of Vault-Tec, and was able to reach Vault 77 safely.

At the end of the world, the unremarkable man approached the gaping maw of his new home, but nobody came to greet him. He called out, and, hearing no response, searched for signs of his new neighbors. In the second hour, he beat his fists against the indifferent Vault door in a display of despair, crying out for it to reopen. "You forgot all the other fucking people!!" he screamed in futility. As the bombs fell, his pleas filled the vacuous bunker, resonating weakly throughout its chambers, never to be answered.

Some time thereafter, the lonely man awoke to cries of regicide. The King had been found murdered in a grisly fashion, his head torn from his body. The dweller of Vault 77 called out to the merciful Lord, and the merciful Lord did not answer.[1] Losing his composure, he roiled in the throes of manic paranoia for some time.[1][3] The man could not imagine that Granny or Reverend Hound were capable of such a brutal act, leaving the Boy as the only possible culprit.[1] Soon thereafter, the dweller privately confronted the Boy.[1] Vault Boy not only confessed to the murder, but accused the man of being his accomplice. The dweller knew it would not be long before the sheriff-reverend would come for them both, and resolved to flee.[1] He made preparations to abandon the Vault, with no choice but to work together with the ruthless Machiavellian murderer who had decapitated his master.[1] The man was eventually successful in leaving the Vault. Having failed to protect the King, he wandered the roads as an unassuming rōnin for some time, developing his abilities.[1] The unforgiving wasteland offered no wild horses to break, so he forged a bond with a giant ant named Mr. Pinch, and rode around on it. Along his travels, he broke bread with a mysterious one-armed ghoul draped in the tatters of a Vault suit with no identifiable number.[1]

A friend to the meek folk, the ghouls, and the gentle beasts of the wasteland, he alone rose up against the tyrants of the region, and he alone reduced their works to bone and ash.[1] With Vault Boy as his right hand lieutenant, he stood in judgment of the wicked people of the New World.[1] Two hundred years later, guilty men speak in hushed tones of a mythical hunter of slavers, and the sight of his number fills their ilk with anxiety and superstition.[2] His legend haunts their oral traditions, as they dread ever more the merciless return of the stranger with no name.[2]

The location and living status of the dweller of Vault 77 are currently unknown.

#puppet man #fallout 3

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brothermouse-skeleton · 11 months

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Just a reminder, we can't do any Christmas stuff until Nov 2. Oct 31 is to honor the ghouls and goblins, piss them off and you'll be haunted all year. November 1st is Dia de los Muertos, when he honor the little Mexican grannies. They'll haunt you worse than the goblins.

#halloween #happy halloween #dia de los muertos #Christmas

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atwas-meme-ing · 2 years

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Just saw a comment on FB calling the 60's sitcom version of The Addams Family "the most functional tv family".

No freaking kidding! I mean, look at it: Gomez was treated as the head of the house. Morticia was supportive of Gomez, never put him down, respected his authority- and Gomez, at the same time, respected her boundaries ("Morticia, that's French!" "Gomez, later, we have an important matter here" "Ah, yes, later"). They supported each others ideas, goals, dreams, and rarely, if ever, called them silly.

Their kids were well-behaved, knew the rules, and followed them. Yeah, they did some really weird things, but they were not out of line with their family. They were taught to respect their parents, because their parents respected each other and their kids (this is a very important distinction, because respect is learned by watching, not by being lectured).

Anyone who came into their house was welcomed as family. Crazy old Uncle Fester, who arguably causes more trouble than any other single character in the show? Chide him a bit for threatening to shoot someone in the back, perhaps, but he still gets his own room. Grandmama needs someone to look after her in her old age? Set her up with a crystal ball and a gypsy tent in the living room so she can carry on her profession as a fortune-teller while still being surrounded by family. A detached hand that somehow managed to come to life has nowhere to go? Take him in and set him up with a system of tunnels under the house and boxes that open only from the inside so he has a private place to feel comfortable while still being a part of a family. Got a butler that looks a bit like Boris Karloff and is somewhat introverted and doesn't like to talk? Pay him well, give him decent servant's quarters, thank him for everything he does and let him know at every opportunity just how much he is appreciated, and give him as much time at the harpsichord as he wants (besides, he plays it beautifully and the whole family loves to dance). Heck, there were times that Lurch was treated like he was Gomez or Morticia's brother or something- I mean, there was a whole episode where Lurch's mother came to visit, and Gomez and Morticia pretended they were the servants- of their own house!!!

And then Cousin Itt has his own miniature room for whenever he comes to visit, and the entire family, instead of insisting that he try to get over his speech impediment, just learned how to understand him. Gomez made arrangements for his mother-in-law, Granny Frump, to get pampered beauty treatments at a high-class health spa, and insisted that Granny Frump was a lovely woman (and if you haven't seen that episode, Granny Frump was played by the same actress who played the Wicked Witch of the West). Morticia's sister Ophelia had a terrible habit of body-slamming Gomez, for whatever reason, and while Gomez didn't seem terribly fond of her (understandable), he never turned her out of the house, and he never said a bad word about her, because she was his wife's sister, and he loved and respected Morticia too much to disrespect her family.

And anybody that came into their house was treated just as well as the rest of the family.

It's never been expressly stated just what the Addamses are. Witches? Vampires? Ghouls? Maybe just a conglomeration of supernatural creatures? Whatever they are, they're one of the best examples of a loving, respectful family I ever saw.

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