#ghoulish repost

[ghoul-ish-art]

Gonna repost this from a while ago. I still really like the concept :D

[always-just-red]

I NEED some angst+comfort with Zayne PLEASE. It could be anything, the reader being run over in front of him, him being stressed about work and being mean to the reader... Literally anything

This was my first request, so thank you so much! I started this last night with a cup of tea and an "I'm sure I can manage some angst for Zayne, why not?" sort of attitude, and it culminated with me evil laughing to myself at 3am. Enjoy I guess? 😭

Reserved

Zayne x Reader ❄

Summary: You've been looking forward to this dinner with Zayne for a week, but it seems he has other priorities.

Genre: angst, SO MUCH angst (but sshhhh... we save it with some comfort... 👀)

Warnings/Additional tags: established relationship, fluff, uses of y/n, reader is feeling neglected, Zayne gets a tiny bit mean

| Word count: 1.2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Zayne… c’mon. Let’s go.”

You feel like a child, whining for what feels like the hundredth time in the last half hour, but you’ve little else left to do. You’re perched on Zayne’s desk, having long ago lost respect for the sanctity of his workspace, and you pout as you stare down at the phone in your palm. The screen is lit up by a reminder you’d set a week ago: Reservation. The Cerulean. 8 o’clock.

It’s 8:25, and you’ve snoozed it five times already— each time more pointedly than the last.

“Just a minute,” Zayne mumbles.

“You said that an hour ago!”

The man hums in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t look up from his computer. His face is bathed in the ghoulish light of the screen, his glasses shining as he dips his head— just a fraction— to glance at the paperwork spread before him. You give him his minute: let second after second tick by, though you mark each one with an idle tap on the desk’s cold surface.

A murmur: “Stop that, please.” His patience is thinning too.

You’re feeling petty, because you’ve been listening to the patter of his keyboard forever and it’s driving you insane. You purse your lips and tap louder. One second. Tap. Two seconds. Tap. Three. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Stop it.” Zayne’s hand catches yours, his grip soft, but his face stern.

And he still won’t look at you.

He releases your hand, and his dutiful fingers are back to their post, pattering away. With a huff, you come away from his desk, stalking past him to the window, where you fold your arms and study the barren street below. The view is obscured by the dark and the drops of rain that carve hazy trails down the glass. You can just about make out a couple, emerging from the hospital’s entrance. No uniforms. A patient and their other half, and they’re leaning on each-other— no— pushing each-other, competing for the cover of an umbrella that’s much too small. They’re laughing, you think.

Your chest aches.

“Zayne,” you press.

His chair rolls back, wheels harsh on the floor, and he’s standing, logging out of his computer with a final, few clacks. “I’m done,” he snaps, but his tone says otherwise. He tugs his coat from the back of his chair. “We can go.”

…

You sit on the edge of the wet pavement, rain seeping from your hair and soaking the fabric of your clothes. You should be cold, but you’re not. You’re nothing. Your eyes are cast downwards and all you see is grey, though it’s illuminated by an orange glow.

Behind you, light bleeds through the windows of a busy restaurant. Zayne is still in there, playing diplomat. Playing doctor: always trying to fix things.

Your phone buzzes, and you slip it from its home in your coat pocket. There’s a message: having fun? Then another: ur welcome, miss bodyguard.

Rafayel. He knows a guy who knows the guy who owns this place, so you’d called in a favour. You and Zayne had been drowning in work for a week: him, overwhelmed by new patients at the hospital, and you, out hunting the wanderers that had put them there. Linkon is getting worse. Everything is getting worse, and you just wanted one, single night for yourself.

Well, not just yourself.

The monotonous drum of the rain breaks to the creak of an opening door, but you don’t react. “Y/N?” Zayne sounds far away. “Where did you— Y/N!?”

Footsteps echo on the pavement behind you, splitting puddles, and the orange light is gone. You’re trapped by a shadow that’s talking, speaking your name, but you pretend you can’t hear it. Let him say it a hundred times. A thousand; you can wait.

“Just a minute,” you lilt, your voice dripping spite.

You’re going to sit here for an hour.

“Y/N…” The doctor is oh so patient. “Please get up. You’ll catch a cold if you—”

“Good!” you spit, rounding on him. “Then why don’t I check myself into the hospital? Maybe then you’ll actually think about me once in a while!”

Zayne is towering over you: a small, wet, pathetic little thing, but you still make him draw back. His virescent eyes are wide, his lips parted ever so slightly. He almost always knows what to say, but this is an exception.

After a long moment, he moves around you. Slowly, he lowers himself to sit at your side.

“Do you have any idea,” you start, staring out across the slick road, “how selfish you make me feel? How much I hate myself when I… when I ask you to…”

The confession catches in your throat. It hurts, but you force it out anyway:

“What you do is so important, Zayne. You’re saving lives. You’re giving people back to their families, their loved ones, and you’re amazing for that. I think you’re amazing for that. But I miss you. It feels like I have to share you with the rest of the world, and I know I have no right to ask it, but sometimes? Sometimes I just… want you to be mine.”

You’re looking down, now. Hugging your knees— burying your face, so he won’t see you cry. There’s rain and salt in your mouth, and you wish he would say something. Anything. 

You have to wait a few seconds, but then you feel it: something heavy being draped over your shoulders. His coat. Then his arm is around you, drawing you close, closer, until you’re nestled against his chest.

“You have every right to ask,” he soothes, his tone so warm when it’s compensating for the rest of him. “I am yours, Y/N. I will always be yours.”

“But your work—”

“Can wait,” he finishes for you. “I know I forget that sometimes. And I’m sorry. But you?”

He lifts your chin, gazing down at you with something you can only describe as adoration.

“There is nothing in this world more important to me than you.”

Your heart flutters at the words and the feathery touch of his thumb on your cheek, wiping away a tear. It’s futile in a downpour, but it still makes you smile. Rain is spattering on your forehead, some dripping from his now-soaked hair, and you laugh as he tries to dry your face with his sleeve.

“You’re important to me, too,” you manage between chuckles, “and I’m sorry, too.” Your cheeks are flushed, even in the cold. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“No.” A statement: not up for debate. Zayne untangles your limbs from his as he helps you stand. “We have a reservation.”

“We had a reservation. They gave away our table, Zayne.”

“Did they?”

There’s a hint of smugness. “Wait… what did you—”

He nods at the restaurant, and you follow his glistening gaze to where a waiter is holding the door— a menu clutched above his head, shielding him from the rain. He’s looking back at you. Waiting.

“Rafayel isn’t the only one with friends in high places,” Zayne smiles, leaning down to speak into your ear, and it makes you shiver. “The head chef is a friend of mine. I saved his brother’s life, you know.”

[dollfacefantasy]

Beginning to Slip

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader

summary: after watching one of the scream movies, you have some fun with toji and a ghostface mask

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, cnc, size kink, knife play, face slapping, degradation, dacryphilia, mentions of murder and death and ghostface stuff

word count: 3k

a/n: um i had to repost cause if issues with tags. but yes i did write one like this for leon a few months ago but idgaf 🤪 i hope everyone enjoys <3

It had started normal enough. A regular night shared between you and your boyfriend, watching movies in bed as you often would do when you both had the spare time and lack of energy for anything else. After scrolling through the tv for a while, you came across one of the new Scream movies.

“Ooh, I haven’t seen this one yet. Wanna watch with me?” you’d asked him casually, sparing a little glance in his direction.

Toji looked at the screen, scanning the description with mild interest. He shrugged. He’d never shared your affinity for horror, never really saw the appeal of slasher movies, but if it put you in a good mood, why would he say no?

You pressed play and tossed the remote to the side. Your head rests on his chest, splitting your hearing between the actors talking and the steady beat of his heat. He absentmindedly strokes your head. You’re quiet for the first couple scenes. That is until you hear the iconic voice crackling through the opening girl’s phone.

“Why does the killer voice get less hot every movie?” you ask.

A simple, innocuous question. One you had posed to other people when you had watched the film before this one. But to Toji, it isn’t just a passing remark. He raises an eyebrow and looks down at you.

“Hot?”

A smile grows on your lips as you meet his eyes. “Yeah, hot,” you laugh.

“Isn’t it supposed to be scary?” he teases.

“Yeah… but that’s what makes it hot,” you respond, your smile widening, “The voice, the knife, the stuff he says. I don’t know. It’s just kinda…” You squirm a bit, trying to communicate your desires through motions rather than figure out the proper wording.

“Kinda what?” he continues affectionately mocking, “You got a thing for masks too? Want me to rough you up a bit?”

You laugh a little more. “Maybe I do.”

His eyes widen with slight curiosity, but he plays it off in the moment, making a joke of how he didn’t know you were into that kind of thing. But the comment stayed with him. It replayed in his head even after the credits rolled and you fell asleep in his arms. It was still with him the next morning when he woke up.

Toji was by no means innocent. He was familiar with all this kinda stuff. He understood the appeal. That wasn’t what had his mind lingering on the idea as he showered and got ready for the day. He just never expected you, his girlfriend who’d always been so gentle, to want to get rough.

He wasn’t against the concept though. Not at all. Visions of you flooded his mind. You completely ruined beneath him, face wet with tears and drool, hips bruised from his fingers. He was so not against it he had to jerk off in the shower. Thanks to his overactive imagination though, it didn’t take too long. As soon as he got out and dried off, he ordered one of those masks.

He felt silly in the days after, painfully aware of how eager he was for it to arrive. When it finally arrived, he knew it was worth it though. He pulled it out of the bag, letting the black cloth fall into place. The ghoulish face stared back at him as if it knew what it was about to be used for.

That very night he intended to use it. He waited till the evening when you were sprawled across the couch relaxing. Then he snuck off to the bedroom and got dressed up. Donned in his normal black shirt with gray pants, he peered into the eyes of his reflection as he pulled the mask over his head. It sat flawlessly, the fabric pooling around his neck perfectly.

The last item he needs sits inside a drawer on his side of the bed. The knife. He’d had this part handled long before he knew you’d be into it. He takes out his favorite one, the one he knows will look prettiest pressed against your flesh. As he watches it glimmer in the dim light of the bedroom, he knows he’s ready to go.

He struts into the living room, pausing several feet away from you and allowing you to just take it in. He feels a pulse within the confines of his jeans as your eyes sparkle. You sit up slowly, looking him up and down.

“Toji?” you ask, “What… what are you doing?”

“You said you had a thing for masks and knives, yeah? Well I know you got a thing for me too,” he says as he begins to approach you.

He sees how your pupils lock onto the reflective blade. Holding the handle, he points it at you. The flat of the cool metal rests beneath your chin. He applies pressure and directs you to look up at him.

“Do you wanna try this out?” he breathes.

Timidly, you nod.

“I wanna hear you say it,” he says.

“I wanna try it out,” you answer.

“You want me to be rough?”

Another nod.

“How rough?”

“As much as you want,” you say so quietly it sounds close to a whisper.

He stares down at you for a moment, thinking over your answers. His thoughts smash into a mental wall when he hears your next sentence.

“Want you to make me cry,” you say. You’re looking up at him with doe eyes too. How could he resist this offer?

After a few moments of contemplation, he swipes the blade away from your jaw. “Should I give you a head start?” he asks simply.

A chill fizzles down your spine. He didn’t even need a voice mod. He already had the voice of an apex predator. You shake your head at his question, causing him to smile beneath the mask.

“Make the first move then, bunny,” he says.

As quick as you can, you scramble off the couch, ducking under his large arm. He chuckles while making a grab for you. You nearly trip but manage to make it to your feet and bolt down the hallway.

He spins around and follows, hot on your tail. He doesn’t have to run, his long legs carry him fast enough with a simple stride. The thrill of adrenaline pumps from your heart and out through your veins. You dash around different pieces of furniture, trying to prevent the heavy footsteps behind you from getting too close.

You come to a crossroads when the path ahead splits between another hall and the staircase. Without a second thought, you sprint up the stairs in the direction of the bedroom. It was pure instinct, but you know this game is about to reach the main part when you see his body fill the doorway. His chest rises and falls with his breaths. You can feel his eyes on you even if you can’t see them. Like a gazelle caged in with a tiger, you know there’s only one way this will end.

“Up the stairs instead of out the front door,” he tuts with a shake of his head, “An amateur mistake. One that dumb little girls like you always make.”

He stalks closer to you, and in-turn, you back away. Your steps continue until your back bumps the wall. He’s closing in, nearly close enough to pin you to the wall. As a last ditch effort, you dart to your left in the direction of the bed. In your mind, you were going to hop over the mattress and manage to speed past him back out the door.

You don’t get that far because he grabs one wrist and then the next and slams you face down on the bed. With your arms pinned to your back, all you can do is wriggle to try and find a way to slip out. He puts a stop to your squirming quickly though, jerking your wrists upwards and causing you to yelp in discomfort.

“Calm down, angel face. I’m not gonna hurt ya. Not until I have my fun at least,” he purrs.

He runs the tip of the blade along your skin peeking out from where your shirt had risen. There’s not enough pressure to draw blood, only leave you with a sting of anticipation. A shaky sigh leaves you, but you're careful not to move and send the knife piercing through your flesh.

“That’s better,” he hums before pulling the knife away and placing it to the side. 

He releases your wrists as well, planning on removing your top next. You don’t make it that simple though. Your arms stretch forward and claw at the blankets to try and drag yourself to the other side of the mattress.

It takes him no effort to wrangle you back into position. His frame is so much larger than yours, it’s like he’s covering every inch of you. Anywhere you try to move, he’s already there. His fingers wrap around your limbs and encapsulate them completely.

He wrestles you still and whips you around onto your back. One of his hands comes up to your throat and sharply jerks your head, bouncing it off the cushioned surface below you.

“That’s a fight you won’t win, little brat,” he breathes as the eyes of the ghostface mask watch your figure.

You resign to be still for a few moments, only minorly fidgeting as he peels your shirt off you. He takes his time. Each second another inch of your body is exposed to him. He drinks in the revelation of your form. He’s so focused, so calculated with his movements that he doesn’t see your arm swinging at him until it collides with the side of the mask, almost knocking it loose.

To him, it was absolutely nothing. He doesn’t even falter. It registers in his mind in the same way a kitten batting its paw would. He stares down at you with a wild grin on his face underneath the white plastic.

His hand leaves your throat and grips your jaw, straightening you out before landing a firm slap on your cheek. He almost breaks and lets out a laugh at the way your hips jump from the contact. He gives you one more on the same cheek before lowering himself closer to you. You feel the cool smoothness of the knife dragging up your stomach and between your breasts as he speaks.

“Count yourself lucky it’s only my hand I’m using,” he taunts before using his free hand to tap your face once more.

The combination of the hits with the low thrum of his voice had you dizzy. Your head feels foggy in the best way as your heart beats faster and your chest rises and falls quicker with your increased breaths. The knife trails along your collarbone. You can feel a light scratch as he presses slightly harder than before. Still not enough to have you spilling crimson, but the right amount to have your panties sticking to your cunt from arousal.

“You gonna be good for me now, or do I need to give you a better reason to be?” he asks, voice right next to your ear. Your blood was running hot as you could hear him breathing under the mask, feel him hard and pressed against your thigh.

“I’ll be good,” you agree. Your voice comes out soft and hazy. He smirks at the state you're in from just a few smacks.

He backs off, rising to his feet again at the side of the bed. He tugs his own shirt over his head and tosses it to the side before dropping his pants. You can nearly feel your eyes dilate as they take in his appearance. No matter how many times you saw it, it never got old. Each ridge and dip in his muscular abdomen and chest looked so familiar but thrillingly new. His cock was a whole other story. The sight of it hanging between his legs had you drooling in more ways than one.

Reaching forward, he yanks you closer to his body by your hips and then tugs your pants off. The forming pile of clothing on the floor grows as he discards them there.

You’re now splayed out on the bed, left only in your panties. He can see the slick that’s soaked the middle of them. Slowly, he grabs the knife again and brings it between your legs. You whimper as you feel the edge of the blade slide up against your clothed center. Your jaw drops and your legs tremble. You stay perfectly still, your eyes trained on the veins on his forearm as he maneuvers the weapon.

“You’d look beautiful covered in red, babydoll,” he 

It glides up the thin cloth between your legs and over your pelvis. The tip catches on the elastic waistband. You bite your lip. Your pulse becomes audible to you as the fabric lifts from your body, hooked on the shiny metal.

“Toji,” you whimper. You see the mask tilt up a bit as he glances at your face, but he says nothing. Until the garment snaps, tearing on the sharp point as the pull becomes too taut.

“You’d be the prettiest one yet,” he murmurs, “All marked up. No mistake about who you belong to.”

His fingers come up to the split in your underwear. He rips it in half like it’s nothing, drawing a gasp from you. The shreds of fabric hang from your legs, and he doesn’t bother removing it any further. Enough of you is accessible for his purposes.

Cupping his hands behind your knees, he pushes your legs up beside your stomach. He can’t get enough of how your pussy glistens and drips for him. He drags two fingers through your folds before gripping his cock and stroking it a few times. He lines up at your entrance and looks down at you for a moment.

“You ready for me, doll?” he asks.

But before you can answer, he shoves himself all the way inside, filling you completely with one stroke. The motion tears a loud cry from your lungs while a cruel laugh comes from him. You try to muffle it by covering your mouth, your own palm flying to your lips. He rips it away though and pins it back on the mattress as he starts thrusting. 

“Don’t try to keep that shit from me. The sounds might be the best part,” he grunts, “I’d bet you’d sound the same if I was slicing you up instead of just fucking you stupid.”

Your eyes roll back as another moan springs free. Constant whimpers come next, intermingling with the creak of the bed. He’s not giving you time to adjust like normal, he’s getting right into it, hard and fast.

His skin slaps against yours, and you grip at his biceps, nails digging into the skin. His head tilts back as he sighs at the small stings. One set of fingers dig into your leg with a bruising hold while the other hand returns to your throat. He holds it, using it for leverage to continue drilling into you with no mercy.

It’s ruthless. You’re left gasping for air as your body bobs with the force of his movements. Your walls tighten up and release, struggling to accept the size of him still. Only the cusps of words can breach your lips. Nothing coherent makes it through.

Tears prick at your eyes as everything else in the world fades to the background. Your lashes flutter as you try to keep them in. They finally spill as his hand connects with your cheek again in a small tap.

“I asked you a question,” he growls into your ear.

“What?” you whimper as warm beads roll from the corners of your eyes, down your temples.

The sight of your glossy eyes looking up at him is almost enough to push him over the edge but he refrains and keeps slamming into your wanting hole.

“I asked if you were crying yet, but I think you have that answered,” he says.

“Oh,” you whine simply.

Your cries become more audible while your lips remain permanently parted, an endless cycle of mewls and whimpers seeping out between sobs.

You’re trembling and sucking him in more than before. His head has dropped to the crook of your neck as his breaths have morphed into harsh puffs. You’re both close and each of you knows this.

Your shaky hand rises to the back of his head, pushing the mask up over his head and letting his smooth black locks fall free. The mask falls off him onto the bed as he brings his head up to look into your eyes.

“Wanna see you when you finish me off,” you choke out.

He grins when hears that and presses his sweaty forehead to yours. “Any last words?” he asks.

One final shake of your head, and you explode from him. You scream as the pleasure courses through you. He locks his digits around you and presses his face harder against yours. The only time it was ok for your sounds to be hushed was when it was caused by his lips on yours.

He keeps fucking you hard and fast, only cumming himself as the overstimulation begins to set in for you. His cum floods your insides as he groans into your mouth. His body continues to roll rhythmically through the whole thing.

When he is done, he practically passes out on top of you. You push on him a little bit but not too hard. Being pinned beneath him was far from the worst thing in the world. He doesn’t move though. You’re kinda shocked he even pulls out with how unresponsive he was to you at the moment. You only know he’s still conscious from the tender way he holds your waist and the kisses he’s lavishing on your neck where his fingers had once been.

You decide this position is as good as any and lazily grab the tv remote which laid in its usual spot next to your pillow. With a few clicks of a button, you’ve got the first Scream turned on. You wrap your arms around Toji and nuzzle his head in return, content to drift off tangled together to the sounds of Drew Barrymore being slaughtered.

[rain-loves-scallops]

This is a repost of my first teaser fanfic about newly summoned Rain. I think I know where I want this to go.

The new summon

Chapter 1

The day Rain was summoned, it was like taking a fish out of the water to let it die. Everyone who was gathered around the Summoning Portal witnessed as an enormous wave came crashing, followed by an array of magnificent dark blue fins speckled with blood red, a long tail that was lashing everywhere and webbed hands adorned with deadly sharp claws that were trying to cling to anything they could.

Then the sounds came. Choking, wheezing as the water ghoul was suddenly finding himself on dry stone. His gills were fluttering wildly as he was trying to learn to breathe out of the water he had been carelessly swimming in mere minutes ago, his body painfully contorting as it slowly dried out.

As he saw the poor creature flopping, choking and wheezing like a freshly caught fish, Cardinal Copia wondered if he had made a mistake in the incantations. His first impulse was to take a step forward, laying what he wanted to be a reassuring, comforting hand on the ghoul’s shoulder. He let out a yelp as serrated teeth suddenly planted themselves into his flesh, the ghoul’s jaw locking, menacing growls now coming from his throat and chest. Mismatched eyes met blown out pupils, the dark blue color of the irises almost invisible.

This moment was, for Copia, totally silent. There was only him, the feral water ghoul, and that unbearable pain into his hand that only got worse and worse. The ghoul had a death grip onto his flesh. And yet, he couldn’t stop looking into the creature’s eyes. From the primal reaction of biting, one could have expected anger and rage to be the cause. But Cardinal Copia only saw fear into the new summon’s eyes. Fear and incomprehension. Then, in a blink, the sounds came back, rushing into his ears. The ghoul’s constant deep growling, the screams of the members of the Clergy who were there as witnesses and the ghouls who were also there to protect the Cardinal in case something went bad.  

Suddenly, someone grabbed the new ghoul by the maw, forcing them to open their mouth to release the Cardinal’s hand, who retracted it with a yelp. He looked up to see who the saviour was and saw it was Aether, who was now speaking to the new summon in ghoulish, which seemed to calm them down enough for their eyes to turn back to normal while Aether’s eyes were deep purple as he was using his Quintessence to calm the new ghoul who had now stopped growling menacingly.

The two ghouls were looking at each other, Aether still softly speaking, the new ghoul listening and gradually, their body relaxed, and, slowly, their fins, scales and predatory claws retracted, leaving place to a beautiful androgynous body. Two legs seemed to emerge from where there was a long tail adorned with those huge blue fins and the new ghoul brought them up to their chest, wrapping their arms around it in a protective gesture. Their tail also wrapped around their body and they started to shiver from the coldness of the Abbey. 

One of the Clergy members slowly came over, handing a blue blanket to Cardinal Copia and a handkerchief. He carefully wrapped the blanket around the water ghoul’s shoulders and the handkerchief around his bleeding hand.

“Is he….she… uh.. okay ?” He asked Aether, who looked back at him before addressing the new ghoul again in ghoulish.

“He. He is okay, and he is sorry for the bite. All of this took him by surprise and it was a reflex.” The quint answered the Cardinal while rubbing the new ghoul’s shoulders on top of the blanket. He got up from where he had been kneeling and helped the newcomer up. 

“You should go to the infirmary to get this cleaned, stitched, and get your vaccination updated.” Aether told the Cardinal, who nodded. The water ghoul turned to look at him, androgynous face looking worried and sorry.

“I… I did not mean to cause this..” he spoke carefully, the gift of tongues seeming to catch on him with a bit of tardiness. His voice was deep and soft.

“Do not worry, my ghoul. This isn’t the first time it happened. Now go with Aether. He will show you the ghouls’ living area and explain what is expected of you.” Copia answered and watched as the two ghouls left the chapel, along with everyone who had assisted to the summoning. The cardinal looked down at his pulsating, still bleeding hand and saw that the edges of the bite were turning green. The new ghoul was venomous.

“Merda…” he swore under his breath.

[ghostwoe]

the sandworm

beetlejuice.

notes — female!reader &. this was previously posted upon my blog before i restarted it, so here’s a repost as it has been asked for!

masterlist

THE FAMILIAR — slithering sound echoed throughout the wooden floorboards as y/n sat on top of her comfy mattress and slipped on her favorite shoes after she had gotten herself ready for the day. a giggle escaped past her lips as she felt the familiar heavy weight go across her covered feet as her e/c irises peered down upon the black and white sandworm.

“hey there buddy!” she called out with a soft grin upon her face before she continued talking to the sandworm, “it’s been awhile since i’ve seen ya. you wanna tell me what happened to you?” she questioned out loud as she gently moved the sandworm off of her shoe and walked over to her closet to figure out what jacket or hoodie would feel the most comfortable with the outfit she had previously chosen.

“i’d choose the black and white stripe one, toots.” an unfamiliar voice called out with a giggle following after it as the owner realized that the woman had frozen in her place. “i’m just hearing things.” she muttered to herself as she stared at the black and white hoodie with a small grin, subconsciously agreeing with the voice that she heard and slipped it on.

she spun around on her heel with a big grin, ready to show her little sandworm friend that she’s had since she was a child that they were matching only to turn around to see a ghoulish looking man in front of her.

a gasp escaped past her lips as they made eye contact and a piece within her felt strangely at home. “well, i damn near got myself hitched to come into the mortal world but thank hell i didn’t.” the man licked his palm and slicked his chaotic yet fluffy hair back as a grin etched itself onto his face.

“didn’t realize i was destined to be with such a babe!” the man bellowed with a giggle as he began to prance around her bedroom to get a better look than he did before. “excuse me- sir, what?” y/n asked with curiosity and confusion in her tone as she watched the man inspecting her bedroom that she’s had since she was a mere child.

“oh come on now, babe, isn’t it obvious? you got yourself universally attached to one hell of a ghoul, one of the most eligible ghouls.” the green haired male boasted as he stepped closer to her and slid his hands around her waist. her e/c irises locked onto his jacket and realization dawned upon her.

“the sandworm! you’re the fucking sandworm!” y/n nearly screamed as she realized and playfully hit his chest causing him to laugh at his destined one’s actions. “my entire life and you sat there not saying a damn word to me, making me think i was crazy at times when i was talking to a goddamn sandworm!”

the ghoul had laughed once more and brought his hands up to cup her face with a large grin upon his own. “babe, i’m the only one that can call you crazy? and i’m crazier than you.”

oh did juno lose her mind even further once she came to the realization that beetlejuice had finally met his one, let alone the fact that she was mortal.

[here-under-blasphemy]

Ghoulish melodies

NO REPOSTING

[streetlampjazzman]

🎺 Repost of this OC who's name i wanna change because Vincent is the default name for everyone's first OC.

[Basics]

• Vincent Thompson, also known as "Vinnie" or "Tommy Gunn", is a strandwolf demon and the gatekeeper of Hyena Territory. A trumpeter and former mafia gangster, he is an unsociable yet altruistic friend of Angel Dust.

[Appearance]

Characteristics:

• Vincent is a humanoid strandwolf hyena-demon who sports a slender figure and charcoal grey fur. In contrast to the rest of his body, the insides of his ears are gunmetal blue and his calves, chest, and forearms are a lighter grey. His forearms are covered in black stripes.

He has gunmetal blue like his eyelids which are connected to his thin brows, and his eyes are upwards slanted; The left eye has a light blue sclera, a black iris, and a white heart-shaped pupil, and his right eye has a white sclera, a light blue iris, and a black pupil. The tip of his nose is black and he has sharp, off-white teeth with a singular golden tooth on the right side of his mouth.

• Vincent's hair is woodsmoke black with a few thin white streaks and is styled into a classic 1930s gentleman's haircut, which is connected to the thick mane on the back of his neck, giving the illusion of a mullet.

Clothing:

• Standing 9'0" feet tall, he wears a brownish-yellowish flat cap, a white short-sleeved button-up shirt, a navy blue tie, a brown plaid waistcoat, buckskin-colored pants, black gloves with golden fingertips, and brown shoes with deep brown soles.

Full Demon:

• In full demon form Vincent is 12'0" ft tall and has an emaciated and ghoulish figure. The scleras of his eyes glow and he has a long, damaged tongue which hangs from his drooling mouth. His fur becomes more shaggy and spiked, and he can only communicate through growling and low-pitched clicking sounds.

[Personality]

• Vincent is known to behave acerbic, irritable, remote, and borderline apathetic. He doesn't like to be bothered and constantly goes out of his way to avoid making new friends. Additionally, he's quick to become snarky and blatantly mock others. Though, he tries to stay composed for as long as possible. His first impression usually leads his peers to believe that he's heartless and bitter, however that isn't completely the case, as on multiple occasions Vincent has helped strangers in need without a favor in return or particular motive besides just wanting to help.

Vincent also has a close friend referred to as Bella Bella, who he is often seen spending time with outside and inside of work at the jazz club. Bella is a waitress and she always bakes Bundt cakes for Vincent, his favorite snack.

• Vincent's views on romance has been warped by the couples he was surrounded by when growing up as a human, and he isn't very interested in it, though he can tolerate playful flirting. He sorta takes pleasure in rejecting others because he knows he wouldn't do well in a relationship and is proud of himself for not letting peer pressure get the best of him.

• He prefers to stay inside hyena territory at daytime but usually goes out on the city to cause chaos at night which he calls "sophistichaos".

Occasionally, he relaxes and decides to just sit on a bench and play his trumpet or catcall other demons. He also only does this outside of hyena territory, since he knows that their leader doesn't tolerate chaos.

[Likes]

• Bundt cakes.

• Dancing.

• Gloomy Saxophone.

• Electroswing.

• Complimenting to bypassers.

• Playing card games.

• Scaring people.

[Dislikes]

• Overlords.

• Red-on-Red outfits.

• Waiting on things.

• Cockroaches.

• The concept of porn and strippers. (But he respects the workers.)

• People assuming things about him and declaring their claims as facts.

• When people say he has a mullet.

[Background]

• He was from Boston, Massachusetts, when he was alive.

• He then moved in with his aunt and uncle at age 12, whom of which were just as bad as his parents; always having sex in while he's present in their small.. one bedroom apartment, being physically abusive to each other, disappearing for days straight, and generally not paying much attention to Vincent's existence.

• Vincent took care of himself by going out and stealing things that he needed.

• At age 16, he was taken in by a mob boss who he met while trying but failing to purchase whiskey in a bar.

He then traveled to New York with this mob, but while a part of the mob, Vincent's suggestions and smarts were often brushed off to the side by the other gang members, ultimately leading to quite a few failed missions.

• He was killed in 1936 by a shot to the left eye from a rival gang member after he saved a friend from being killed by them.

[Abilities/Skills]

• Enhanced hearing.

• Stealthiness.

• Bristling fur.

• Instrumental talent (Ex. Saxophone & Trumpet)

[Facts]

• His Boston accent is extremely thick.

• He starts to drool when he's chewing on things.

• He has a habit of being a bit of a stalker. (He's like "No, I don't follow you around everywhere, but I memorized the license plate of that car you got out of 3 weeks ago because I was standing across the street".)

• He puts on a charming facade to try and lead antagonist demons into the Hyena Territory to have them eaten by the spotted hyenas.

• He spaces out when sitting in front of heaters.

• He struggles with saying "Thank you" and "I'm sorry" even when he wants to.

• Can never sit correctly in chairs, will always have his legs in some weird position.

• He tends to lash out on people randomly or become aggressive when he's having bad mood swings or very exhausted, but he usually tries to make up for it immediately afterwards.

• He complains about Angel hanging up photos of Fat Nuggets all around his apartment whenever he lets him stay over for a while, but he doesn't actually care, he just likes to complain.

• He preferred Angel's original, mafiaso look in comparison to the newer, modern one, but he accepts him regardless.

• He definitely canonically kins Jax from The Amazing Digital Circus.

Art block sucks. 😞🤲🏽💕

[a-neverending-story]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒?

repost, don’t reblog.  bold what consistently applies, italicize situational.

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.  jaw clenching, hands balling into fists, teeth grinding, yelling, going non-verbal, stuttering speech, rushed speech, slow concise speech, rambling, quiet, arms crossing, shaking head, tearing up, animated, expressionless, projects, internalises, vents, withdraws, passive aggressive, direct, physical outbursts, verbal outbursts.

𝐉𝐎𝐘.  easy smiles, fighting back grins, suppressed laughter, loud laughter, giggles, chuckling, smirks, whole body laughs, covers mouth when laughing / giggling, throws head back when laughing, slaps leg, touches people around them when laughing, looks down when laughing, looks for eye contact when laughing, sparkling eyes, bubbly happiness, quiet subtle happiness, obnoxious happiness, wants to spread joy, quietly savours joy.

𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒.  crying, bottling it up, seeks distractions, wallows, meditates, trains and processes, avoidance, seeks out comfort, withdraws, talks it out, internalises it, sad smiles, depression naps, uses alcohol, uses drugs, seeks out sources of joy, fidgets with sentimental item, sits in silence, broods, gets moody, wants someone to share the misery, tries to hide negative emotions, nurtures others to make themselves feel better.

𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓/𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄.  blushing, looking away, rubbing at back of head, covering face, laughing nervously, laughs it off, overthinks, lets it go, self-deprecating humor, deflects, gets irritated, smiles, withdraws, crossing arms over stomach, crossing arms over chest, hands in pockets, shoulders sinking, shrugs, falling into silence until comfortable again, talking a lot to compensate.

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓.  avoiding eye contact, shoulders sinking low, head hanging down, crying, chest aches, lashes out, internalises, apologises, deflects, communicates, withdraws, grand gestures for forgiveness, accepts fault easily, punishes themselves, martyrdom, victim complex, guilt complex, healthy conscience, internalises even after forgiveness, seeking redemption, moves on easily, denial, lack of guilt / conscience, sorry they got caught more than caused harm, can’t handle knowing they hurt others.

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑/𝐀𝐍𝐗𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘.  trembling, crying, sarcasm / sass to cope, rambles, goes silent, gets angry, fidgeting, clenching jaw, picking at nails, chewing at lip, pulling at clothes, adjusting jewellery / clothing, swallowing thickly, eyes widening, over-reacts, under-reacts, calm, logical, panic, irrational, overthinks, carefully analyses, talks to themselves, breathing exercises, flight, fight, withdraw, fawn.

tagged by: @exsecrabar & @sonnengekuesste tagging: @shadowpunk , @nuit-sanglant , @primalofdarknessandlight , @breakingtaboos , @ghoulish-blood , @flying---castle , @trauma-report & You!

[rabenschwcrz]

A VERY DESCRIPTIVE PROFILE OF YOUR MUSE. Repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc. if you fail to achieve some of the facts, add some other of your own!

NAME: Michael Corvis

ALIAS/NICKNAMES: Mika; Valravn (norse myth.), Vengeance, the Raven Phantom

AGE: "28"

SPECIES: revenant

SEX: male

NATIONALITY: finnish-american

FAMILY: Tobin Corvis† (younger brother, murdered by Gabriel's men); Lahja Corvis née Heikkinen, Theo Corvis (parents)

INTERESTS: revenge; music, art & photography, collects vinyl records, likes goth aesthetics, hardcoverbooks, black candles, sandalwood scents

PROFESSION: former musician; singer (and occasional bassist) of the band 𝖓��𝖈𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖘

BODY TYPE: athletic lean

EYES: light blue, slightly glowing in the dark

HAIR: neck- to shoulder-length curly, black hair

SKIN: fair to very fair, could be mistaken for a vampire

FACE: people would call him "a pretty bastard"; has an objectively really beautiful face

POSTURE: dramatic, if there's such a thing - definitely his former stage persona

HEIGHT: 5'11'' (180cm)

VOICE: very deep toned and pleasantly resonant voice

SIGNATURE OUTFIT: everything black; leather trousers, tight fitting longsleeves, silver jewelry

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: Anne Stirling† (fiancée, murdered by Gabriel's men)

COMPANIONS: a supernatural Raven; a huge bird, significantly taller than a common raven. Practically he has no name but Michael calls him "Varis" which is finnish for crow/raven. His eyes glow red when he 'connects' with Michael.

STRENGTHS: sees in the dark, superhuman strength and speed, is already dead and therefore can't be killed with common weapons

WEAKNESSES: has one (would be fatal if anyone finds out)

SMOKE/DRUGS: heavy smoker; did all sorts of drugs in the past

FRUITS: blueberries, blackberries

COLORS: black, silver; loves the color of the nightsky and especially moonlight

DRINKS: (was) a coffee junkie

ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES: everything crystal clear and strong

DRIVER'S LICENSE: yes

tagged by: @vasted (thank you!) tagging: @lxstinechxes @mano-derecha @venomouserpent @ghoulish-blood & anyone who wants to

[artpigeons]

Tell us more about the song you reposted and know by heart :)

oughooogh okay so it's based on a poem by adam oehlenschläger (1779–1850) - or rather, it's the last third of that poem put to music.

the poem's about thor and loke (and thor's two servants, the human children tjalfe and his sister røskva) getting lost and accidentally wandering into hel's domain on their way to jotunheim

and i love this poem so much, because it takes the super interesting lore and figures from norse mythology and imbues it with the drama and emotion of the romance period oehlenschläger wrote it in!

like, loke is the father of hel, and once they all realize they're on course to meet her, he kinda freaks out and wants to leave. but thor gives him this great rousing speech about how he has nothing to be ashamed of wrt her, because she serves and important role and she does it well; she punishes cowards in death, which thor thinks is very noble despite the grimness of her duty.

so they go in, and obviously her spooky domain is described in great detail, and they meet her - this is the point of the poem where the song starts, at all the gnarly descriptions of hel and her punished dead.

and thor is being clever, right, and wants to get on her good side, so he quickly starts yelling at the dead "this is what happens to every woman too afraid to follow me! this is what you get for being cowards in life, for being too afraid to go to battle! wow hel you punish these people so justly, well done"

(my favourite line is, literally, "you were created to tremble, so tremble for all eternity". very stern, i love this romance interpretation of viking-age virtues!)

so they basically ask hel for directions, and she tells them where to go and tells thor to fuck off, since "it blinds [her] to gaze upon the rosy glow of [his] health"

and the poem ends with a small verse about how the walk past hel is so heavy for loke that he has to close his eyes, but she looks at him and sighs heavily.

with all the implications that they're both kinda heartbroken that she's stuck in this nasty hellish place punishing the dead and that both of them kinda lament the familial relationship they don't have.

anyway the poem is super beautiful, and the song is too, even if i wish she'd included more verses - i think something's a bit lost without thor's rousing speech to loke. however! myrkur has such a beautiful voice, and it's really fun to hear all the eerie descriptions of hel and her ghoulish halls sung so prettily :)

here's the actual song lmao, sorry for the longpost

[diamondxll]

rules: you can only say "guilty" or "innocent." you are not allowed to explain anything unless someone messages or asks you. repost, don't reblog!

asked someone to marry you? ⠀ • ⠀ INNOCENT

kissed one of your friends? ⠀ • ⠀ INNOCENT

danced on a table in a bar / tavern? ⠀• ⠀GUILTY

ever told a lie? ⠀•⠀ GUILTY

had feelings for someone you can't have? ⠀ • ⠀ INNOCENT

ever kissed someone of the same sex? ⠀• ⠀ INNOCENT

kissed a picture? ⠀• ⠀ GUILTY

slept until 5pm? ⠀ • ⠀ GUILTY

fallen asleep at work / school? ⠀• ⠀ GUILTY

worked at a fast food chain / restaurant? ⠀•⠀ INNOCENT

stolen something? ⠀• ⠀ GUILTY

been fired from a job? ⠀•⠀ INNOCENT

done something you regret? ⠀•⠀ GUILTY

laughed until something you were drinking came out of your nose? ⠀• ⠀ GUILTY

caught a snowflake on your tongue? ⠀• ⠀ GUILTY

kissed in the rain? ⠀• ⠀ INNOCENT

sat on a rooftop? ⠀ • ⠀ GUILTY

kissed someone you shouldn't have? ⠀ • ⠀ INNOCENT

sang in the shower? ⠀•⠀ GUILTY

been pushed into a body of water with all your clothes on? ⠀ • ⠀ GUILTY

shaved your head? ⠀ •⠀ INNOCENT

slept naked? ⠀ • ⠀ GUILTY

made a boyfriend / girlfriend cry? ⠀•⠀ INNOCENT

shot a gun? ⠀• ⠀ GUILTY

still loved someone you shouldn't? ⠀ •⠀ INNOCENT

have / had a tattoo /piercing? ⠀• ⠀ GUILTY

liked someone, but will never tell who? ⠀•⠀ INNOCENT

been too honest? ⠀• ⠀ GUILTY

ruined a surprise? ⠀•⠀ INNOCENT

been told that you're beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said? ⠀•⠀ INNOCENT

stalked someone? ⠀•⠀ INNOCENT

thoughts about murder? ⠀• ⠀ GUILTY

how about mass murder? ⠀•⠀ INNOCENT

cheated on someone? ⠀•⠀ INNOCENT

gotten so angry that you cried? ⠀• ⠀ GUILTY

tried to stay away from someone for their own good? ⠀• ⠀ GUILTY

thoughts about suicide? ⠀•⠀ GUILTY

had a girlfriend / boyfriend? ⠀•⠀ INNOCENT

gotten totally drunk during a holiday? ⠀• ⠀ GUILTY

tagged by: @c-haosphere

tagging: @dolce-fiore @ghoulish-desires @mexican-sin @moriiturus @filia-damnatorum @57waystomurdermen @seraphic-crimes

[awoken-artist]

Doodle Art I did for ghoulish-fantasies on Gaia Online on my Christmas Decore Tree event on GaiaOnline!

🌸🍡Please don’t steal and resubmit/repost my works without my permission! thanks!🍡🌸

🌸————————-{Credits}————————-🌸

♥ Artwork © by: @awoken-artist

♥  Avi Character is owned by: ghoulish-fantasies

​♥ Programs Used: Clip Studio Paint EX

[amaturedragcreature]

I was inspired to start this after seeing this post below.

So I started small with nail polish and little nail designs I did myself. There's still a long way to go, but that's why practice is important. By the way, any ghoulish related suggestions for nail art will be appreciated. Since that's the theme, I'll be starting off with.

[owilder]

Now, as I foray into editing the final three chapters of Book the First of my YA scifi/fantasy series, here is an excerpt from my most recently finished chapter tentatively titled An Oasis of Melted Snow:

The room was dark, lit only by a sliver of sunlight streaming through the curtain panels drawn over the windows and the soft glow of the television that Dieter sometimes snuck into the room to watch while his grandmother slept. He liked Bernd das Brot a lot and, as he grew older, he often wondered if his grandmother had kept the television tuned to KiKa just so he could sneak in and watch him. The television was muted now. Though Bernd’s lips were moving, no sound came out. It was as though the stillness and staleness of the room had stolen his voice. Standing in the doorway, coming up only to his father’s knees, little Dieter stared across the room at his grandmother, propped up against a mountain of pillows, staring back at him. He thought she looked like death, like a corpse, ghoulish with her wispy white hair, missing in some places, glassy eyes, and bony frame. Her teeth were sunk to the bottom of a glass of water beside the bed, drowned. His father held him by the shoulders and steered him forward towards the bed and the ghastly, ghostly figure bound to it. She smiled a grim, weak, toothless smile and, although her eyes held all the tenderness and love in the world, Dieter could focus only on that horrible smile until the levee of his terror broke, and his eyes overflowed with tears. How he ended up outside her room he could not remember. He doubted that he had run away, for his father’s hands had gripped his shoulders far too tightly for him to break free. Perhaps his father had carried him out. What Dieter did remember, distinctly, was the sound of his grandmother’s cooing sympathy and her appeal to his father not to be too harsh on a child so small – just before the back of his father’s hand crashed against the right side of his face. His father’s breath was hot against his ear as he hissed, “Do you see what you made me do? You stop your crying this instant, or I’ll give you something to cry about.”

        Dieter slid down to the ground. Why that specific memory had revisited him now, he could not say. Perhaps it was what Braham had said earlier about having no choice but to strike Dieter? He gazed up at the sky through the weblike fracture in the ceiling of the rock wall. The only other memory he had of his grandmother was her unwrapping a butterscotch and giving it to him, though he could not remember whether he had requested the butterscotch or not. Not long after he had burst into tears at his grandmother’s bedside, he recalled his mother holding him in her arms in a cemetery and all the mirrors in the house being covered; then no one ever mentioned his grandmother again, and the door to her room stayed closed, and Dieter no longer snuck in late at night to watch Bernd das Brot. That was eight years ago, Dieter knew. He remembered the date on the headstone.

- Part the Second, Chapter the Nineteenth, An Oasis of Melted Snow (C.R. Book the First: A New World)

(These sentences and all work related to it are copyright O. Wilder and are timestamped to prove ownership. Do not repost.)

[reverse-hermit]

gahh i hope yhe situation with the reposter gets solved! your art is beautiful and charming, it should get the proper credit it deserves (also...the tags on it were ghoulish :I sorry you had to deal with that)

thank you so much😭😭😭 this whole situation is so annoying but i really appreciate everyone helping me out🫶🫶

[delicourse]

do you have any tips for someone just starting to post their art? what platform do you prefer?

this is hard to answer since i started out a while ago when these platforms worked a bit different! it also depends on what you want as an online artist. community? commission opportunities? different sites will have different things to offer there. since i’ve been on tumblr for the longest time, and only started with twitter once tumblr goofed up, those are the only sites i can compare for now.

so a quick summary; tumblr being dead is kinda true. i have well over 17k followers but you wouldn’t be able to tell based on post engagement. but! if you do manage to get some traction here i find it to be the best site to just chill on. people are very open and unfiltered with art comments through tags, and asks are also common if you seem open to them! tumblr used to be THE site for fanartists imho, both for fun social hangout and for earning money. while things dont “trend” anymore, i do think people still sometimes go through tags of fandoms they care about. no clue how one would manage as an original content artist though.

twitter is where i get new audiences and actually grow. majority of my commission inquiries are from there too. overall its a great place where using trending tags work well! tags relevant to who u are(there are specific tags for promoting minority artists for example!) tend to actually get a lot of likes/retweets/follows from other artists! i rarely ever partake (i should but i always feel so embarrassed lol), but based on the few times i have gotten in with the hip trends, they DO work. also the comments and social interaction feel WAY more public - GREAT if you like feeling like a PR agent! - but kinda stressful if you’re socially anxious(cringe) like me. also other artists tend to be way more likely to interact with you too, so building connections is easier! (even i’ve had artists in my DMs on twitter, an impressive feat considering that im extremely unsociable online. it makes me blush!!!)

the general advice most people give is to get artist friends/connections and support them and be supported in return and grow together. seems great and also healthy probably, the whole “social community” thing! but i never talk to people ever so i just posted real hard and it worked, it just takes some time. also be prepared; nobody blows up in a month. be patient and have fun, post art for the hell of it. be consistent! i grow most when i post daily or weekly! also; post art on many sites. really. there isnt anything to lose honestly. i limit myself to two only because if i see another notification im gonna lose it❤️

anyway good luck!!