#lament ghoul

[luminary-rainchii]

got dragged back into the ghost fandom, and now I’m making ghoul ocs again

Lament (They/He)

[ghcstcd]

Dew does have a cute little tattoo. Right above his tail, originally of his water element. Strange enough, it changed with Dewdrop's element to represent fire.

[trueebeauty]

Question!

What webtoons have you read and have written for? I'd like to make a request if that's alright.

of course, here's a list of all the webtoons I've read and currently reading + some anime as well! also if anyone would like to give me recommendations to read or watch webtoons, animes, movies, or tv shows... please feel free!

𝐖𝐄𝐁𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐍 - 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐌, 𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐘, 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐓, 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃, 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐔𝐁 𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎, 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐎, 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘, and 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍’𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓...

𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐄 - 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄, 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍, 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐎, 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄, ��𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍, 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐙𝐄𝐔𝐒, 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇, 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑, 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐀, 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑, 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑, 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘𝐔, 𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐎’𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌, 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐎 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋, and 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒... (i might be missing a couple, but feel free to ask)

[raspberryzingaaa]

Dude the amount of people lamenting that trump didn't get killed is grotesque. An innocent bystander in the crowd Did get hit and killed. Can yall stop being ghouls and think before you post for Once?

[gravehags]

Phantom ghoul begging to breed you but Mountain having to be there to keep him under control so he doesn't accidentally hurt you

Just big ghoul keeping small ghoul in line teehee

OOH BABY

mountain easing phantom’s cock inside you, far too slowly for the smaller ghoul’s liking, and gently telling him watch how she stretches around you, how perfect she is for you. phantom nods frantically, regarding your flushed face and the way your mouth hangs open in pleasure. gently, bug. show her how good she’s making you feel. you yourself nod encouragingly, biting hard on your lower lip. phantom’s hips slowly begin to jerk - sliding himself in and out of you with pathetic little whimpers while mountain stands behind him holding his shoulders. he adores you so much and all he wants to do is take and take and take and make you his. you’re keening and arching so beautifully beneath him, the sight makes his vision go spotty and his head swim. a little harder now, bug, she can take it. the next time he pushes into you it’s with such force it moves you up the bed and makes you cry out. again, you pant, nodding deliriously to mountain, do it again honey that was so good. phantom soon sets a pace, rough but nothing you can’t handle, rutting into you with snarls and moans on his lips. you know exactly what he could do to you if beloved mountain wasn’t there to guide him and that makes you wild. his hips snap brutally against you, spurred on by the pretty little noises you make. you feel so good, bug, you cry out as you make eye contact with mountain. he himself looks hungry beyond belief but still he attends to his duty, fingers digging into phantom’s shoulders. when you start to clench around him, phantom begins gasping as if he’s desperate for air. gonna knot her, mount, he whines, fuck baby you want my knot? want me to fill you up with my kits? that alone has you careening over the edge, crying out a litany of yeses. you already feel the base of him fattening, locking inside you and you throw your head back with an exhilarated laugh. good boy, mountain coos into his ear, placing a little kiss on his bare shoulder. the way he stretches you and his sweet little whimpers are enough to rocket you into your second orgasm. beautiful, mountain says, breathing heavily through his nose, so beautiful taking his knot like this. go on, bug. fill her up. the command is all phantom needs as he paints the walls of your cunt with his seed. you’re so deliciously full and for a brief moment you lament your different biologies. finally, mountain lets him go and he falls forward to collapse on you, your name a prayer on his lips. mountain disappears momentarily and you’re content to stroke phantom’s sweat-damp hair as he slowly deflates inside you. when mountain returns, he’s bearing a warm wet rag and easing the smaller ghoul off and out of you. as he collapses on the bed next to you, mountain dutifully runs the rag between your legs to clean up the mess. when he leaves again for a moment, you turn to phantom and his anxious gaze. did i do good? he asks. did i hurt you? you smile. you were perfect bug. so good for me. wasn’t he a good boy, mount? the tall ghoul re-enters the room with two glasses of water which he sits down on the bedside table. mountain makes a noise of affirmation and smiles, sitting beside the two of you. when he moves to leave both you and phantom make noises of dissent as you reach for him. with a grin that shows his sharp teeth he begins to strip down and slips into bed beside phantom. your turn next, mount, phantom murmurs, half asleep. mmhmm, you agree, just as sleepy, you can show bug how a professional does it.

[goddessesofeverything]

Your Song Fills the Empty Cracks in My Bones

Skully J. Graves x GN!Reader/Yuu

Yeah...The New Guy got to me...

If you'd prefer to read it on AO3, it's there too :3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/59525989

Halloween Town was alight with fright and mischief as its denizens eagerly buzzed around preparing for their cherished holiday. As the town’s band prepared a jaunty tune to liven up the spirit, they paused seeing a certain newcomer swiftly make their way right toward them. A jittery gait to his step, they watched him as he halted just a couple feet away. 

“Esteemed musicians of Halloween Town!” Skully J. Graves greeted with a bow. He pushed his glasses back up his nose as he rose. “So sorry to trouble you in the middle of your work, but might I inquire if you happened to spot one of the lovely dears that accompanied me pass by this way?”

The musicians looked to each other, not quite sure how to answer. 

“Ah, pardon me. I meant the one usually accompanied by the small cat.”

“Ohh…” the musicians nodded in understanding then. “Your little friend went that way,” the saxophonist jabbed a thumb to the direction of the town’s entrance gate. 

“Thank you!” They curiously watch as Skully bowed again, before speeding away to the gate. Through his glove, he lightly bit his nail as he waited for the gatekeeper to let him out of town. The musicians commenced their performance after he left. 

“To think of just walking out at such a critical time,” Skully muttered. “What could they possibly be doing…!”

Skully overheard his traveling companions mention that their “Ramshackle Prefect” was nowhere to be found after completing some of their given tasks. There’s still so much to be done, though! They couldn’t just simply up and flit away when Halloween was only days away. He made it his own mission to find the Prefect and hurry them straight back. I mean, it also wouldn’t do to wander off alone, of course. 

As he made it to the graveyard by Spiral Mountain, Skully began to hear something odd carried through the wind. At first, he thought he somehow heard the musicians back in town. But, no. It sounded like someone singing. 

Lala…lalaa…lalalalala…

Was it the screaming pumpkins? As he got closer to the mountain, the bespectacled boy realized someone was standing at its peak. What were they doing…

Ah. He could hear it more clearly now. The figure on the mountain was singing. He did not hear any lyrics. The tune carried vocally—melodic and haunting. 

He could see now. The Prefect was alone, vocalizing next to the moon. 

Perfect. Now he just needed to call to them, and bring them back to town. Yet, as Skully tried to make his way to do so, something itched at him. Something was against him doing it. He watched the Prefect be completely absorbed in their own world. Their voice carried out in a soft vibrato, and produced a sweet, yet melancholic tune. It was quite beautiful. 

…It couldn’t hurt to let the Prefect finish. 

Skully didn’t consider how awkward he must look watching from below. He couldn’t really care. Not when he was enraptured by this impromptu performance. 

The Prefect’s silhouette was captured so enchantingly under the moonlight. Like a shadow on the moon taking the form of a lone, dark ghoul. Lamenting its sorrows to the piercing night. It only added to their loveliness. All the while, their voice carried through the graveyard, sharing its woes to the beyond. Skully, though, was the only one with the honor of being a living, breathing soul among them. Captured by all the Prefect gave them. 

Yet, it was over before it even began. With a final note, the Prefect had already ended their song. Skully sighed in bliss as the proverbial curtains drew to a close. But, that felt much too fast! Perhaps he could request another…

Both Skully and the Prefect were snapped out of their trance with the familiar bark of a certain ghost dog. 

Adrenaline kicked into Skully, and he dove behind a gravestone large enough to hide his tall figure. Zero whooshed past him, barking for the Prefect’s attention as he floated up the mountain. 

“Hello, Zero!” the Prefect cheerfully greeted the ghost dog. Skully peeked from behind the grave to continue watching the two. Zero was enthusiastically nuzzling into their affectionate pats. “What brings you here?”

“Bark bark!” Zero gestured his head toward the town. 

“Oh, are people looking for me?”

“Bark!” Zero nudged at the Prefect. 

“Okay, okay, boy!” They spared one last glance to the moon, before a small sigh escaped them. “Guess I gotta go back now…?” 

The Spiral Mountain unfurled itself so that the Prefect could walk down. With a kind smile, they thanked the animated mountain, and quickly made their way down the mountain. Skully shied away into the shadow of the gravestone, watching on as the Prefect followed Zero back to town. 

As the duo trotted away, Skully let out the breath he subconsciously held onto. Leaning back against the gravestone, he grasped at his chest, feeling his heart flutter in a flurry of emotions. 

Could it be…

He just emulated his beloved idol! To be captivated by the sweet, solemn music as the one who’s captured your heart serenaded you atop the Spiral Mountain…It’s just like the stories said! Skully could feel his face warm in elated joy. His hands made their way to cover his cheeks, and he lightly bounced in place like a giddy school girl. Truly, his lovely dear was a blessing—inadvertently granting him a chance at recreating such an iconic moment in his own story. Does that mean he was the esteemed Sally to the Prefect’s Pumpkin King? Or was it the other way around?

Doesn’t matter!

Rejuvenated by his self-affirmations, Skully readjusted his glasses and suit, and began a cheerful gait back to town himself. Plucking a dark rose from a lone bush on the way. He had to thank that sweet, lovely dear for the performance of a lifetime, after all. One he so gladly was a part of, whether they knew it or not. 

It must’ve simply been meant to be. 

[atomicbland]

Just A Mirage

Hello I'm outting myself as the ──★ ˙🍓anon from @ghoulphile. Anyways they've inspired me to fall face first dip my toe back into writing and might as well share the brain rot with the class. This is my first time writing smut or anything relatively like this so any questions comments critques are welcome! I dont bite unless you want me to

pairings: cooper howard x fem!reader rating: 18+ MDNI! warnings: bondage, degradation, pet names, mentions of age gap (obviously), Cooper Howard being a jackass in general, canon typical chem use, smoking AO3 Link

You were tired, thirsty, and hungry. Your rations had been finished earlier that morning though it was not by your hand. The tall ghoul who looked like he had walked right off the set of one of those western movies with his cowboy hat, ragged leather duster, and shotgun strapped to his back had stolen the last of your food and water while you stepped away to relieve yourself. You had come back to him chewing on your stash of jerky while letting his scruffy companion, “Dogmeat”, drink straight from your water flask. You learned quickly that no matter what, he’d treat the dog better than you. He kept you on a leash, his lasso was tied around your waist and tethered to the weapon belt that might as well have been fused into his skin. Anytime you weren’t keeping pace he’d give a rough tug of the rope, causing it to bite into your belly. Argued it’s easier to keep track of you that way. 

While you lamented over the loss of your food and water and debated if hiring the old ghoul was a smart choice something catches your attention stopping you in your tracks. Along the edge of the tree line, you spot the remains of what looked like a house, bigger than any house you’ve come across. The roof and windows were still somewhat intact and something that looked like brick peeked through the vines that had taken over the structure. You felt the bite of the rope at your stomach. 

“Now, I done told you what’ll happen if I gotta tug this damn rope again…” the Ghoul threatened from in front of you.

“I saw someth-”

“You ain’t seen nothin’,” he spat. “A mirage. Just that pretty lil’ head of yours playin’ tricks sweetie.” He tugged the rope again, urging you to move along not even bothering to look in the same direction as you. 

Sweetie. Whenever he called you that you could feel the heat of a thousand rads shoot through your body, making your blood boil. 

“Maybe my mind wouldn’t be playing tricks if I still had my food and water!” You didn’t budge, refusing to play his stupid game. You were in charge, hiring him to escort you to the Old World Wall safely. 

He turned to face you, his eyes hidden by the brim of his hat but his features were twisted into a scowl. “What was that lil lady?” 

He didn’t scare you. You cleared your throat. “I said. I NEED water. You don’t get any caps or vials if I’M dead!” He stays silent, still glaring. A month's supply of vials upon arrival was on the line and he knew it. You point towards the treeline. “I saw a house over there. We're out of rations and it's getting dark. Can we at least set up camp there?” 

His answer is wordless, whistling a command to Dogmeat to run ahead to the house. He gives another tug at the rope, commanding you to follow behind him, a cautious hand at his holster. 

The inside of the house was far nicer than the outside led you to believe. While everything appeared to be overrun by nature the original bones were still there. Holey yet plush couches formed a sitting area around a fire pit that recessed into the tattered wall. The floorboards creaked and moaned under the new weight as the three of you walked around making sure the area was clear. Dusty paintings littered the walls, images nearly impossible to make out in the dim light. 

“Now smoothie,” the Ghoul started, taking a quick break to puff his inhaler, “I’mma take you off yer leash and scope the perimeter ‘fore we hunker down.” 

You nod, happy to have some relief from the scratchy fibers of the rope and to get some sort of break from your freakish travel partner. Not that you didn’t hate him but the way he spoke and stole from you did wear on your nerves. All of the stupid pet names that cowboy gave you did something to you. You couldn’t place it, a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach, a milder feeling of what he did when he’d make a pass at you. And despite how much he annoyed you, you found him strangely attractive. On those sleepless night when you were sure he was sleeping, you’d study his features, imagining his strong hands around you as he pulled your hips down onto his, his cock hitting your core just right making your back arch and pulling the same loud cries of pleasure you had heard him pull from others in the adjacent room of whatever hostel would allow a ghoul and his dog. 

The smell of viscera and tobacco cloud your senses, and you feel a gloved hand around the back of your neck, ripping you back to reality. “And be good for me while I’m gone.” The heat of his breath travels down your neck and straight between your thighs. 

You watch as he slinks away, stopping at the crumbling doorway—a dark shadow masking the top half of his face. “Oh and sweetheart,” he pulls a cigarette from one of the pockets of his duster, lighting it before he continued, “be a doll an’ rangle somethin’ up for dinner. Ain’t much in the mood for ass jerky t’night.” He flashes you a smile from underneath his hat before leaving, Dogmeat happily cantering after him. 

The house is larger than it looks on the inside and despite its current state of ruin, you could see it in all of its glory, like one of those fancy houses you see in the movies. People smiling and laughing around a table piled with food, dressed in the most beautiful clothes that shimmered against the light. Women with beautifully painted faces and clean, perfectly styled hair. Those movies always made you wonder about the world before the bombs, before everyone wanted to kill everyone else, before the fear of radiation. 

You find your way into the kitchen, cracked black and white tiles decorate the floor, dingy teal cabinets matching the Atomic Queen appliances hug the walls. You take care to peek behind every cabinet door checking for any food or water that might have been missed by whoever came through here last. You manage to find some unlabeled booze and canned food tucked behind the remains of some long abandoned animal nest, while it isn’t much at least you’ll be able to eat tonight. In another cabinet you find some Sugar Bombs, the box is dented and beat up but surprisingly unopened, lucky you. 

You move towards the back of the kitchen, finding yourself in a small dark room. The smell of mildew and rot is so strong your stomach would've turned if it wasn't already empty, it's so bad you couldn't bother to examine the shelves that lined the wall. You make a mental note to ask the Ghoul to check for loot, of the two of you, he had the stronger stomach to rifle through damn near anything. Pushing through the door to the other side, fresh air greets you, a welcomed relief to your lungs. The very last dregs of sunlight shine through the windows that made up the roof, tall green trees kiss the glass in a desperate attempt to break free. If it wasn't for the roof you would've sworn you accidentally found your way outside. 

With one hand on the holster of your knife you creep with the brick of the wall at your back, slowly examining the plants in front of you. You recognized a few, Daffodils, Marigolds, even Tato vines. However a majority were new to you;  large flowers the size of your head, and plants that seemed to grow from the roof. You spot some pear and apple trees with the largest fruits you’ve ever seen further into the room. As you found your way to the perpendicular wall, you noticed that it was made of a giant window. You remember seeing building plans for something similar in a pre-war book years ago, a glass house that kept the plants inside at the ideal temperature. For whatever reason the plants in this glass house were thriving on neglect, carrying on with life as if the bombs never dropped. 

BANG! 

The sound makes you drop to the ground, covering your head. Whatever it was you just hope it was coming from the Ghoul. 

Just as you're about to get up, something catches your eye. You crawl towards the brush to get a closer look, little red fruits perched on vines decorated with white flowers cover the dirt by your feet. You pluck one, rolling it between your fingers the skin is rough, yellow dots littering the surface of the red flesh. The sweet scent of the fruit travels to your nose and entices your palate you know better than to put anything in your mouth. Instead, you procure the small tin that you use to store food from your bag and fill it with the mystery fruit. 

BANG! 

Hastily you shove the container back in your bag, whatever was going on outside had you a fair bit more concerned now that you could hear Dogmeat barking wildly. You quickly get up and make your way out of the glass house, through the dark storage room, and past the kitchen. Not stopping until you've collided with a large solid mass, sending a plume of dust into the air as your ass hits the cushion of the couch. 

“You’re ‘sposed to say ‘scuse you after runnin’ into a fella sweetheart.” 

You look up, your eyes meet the dark shadow of the Ghoul's from under his hat. Yellowed teeth show through as he grins wide. You look down to see in his gloved hand are two Rad Rabbits, in the other an unopened can of purified water. Relief washes over you, knowing that your dinner would be more than just Cram and Sugar Bombs. 

“I believe a thank you's in order.” His stupid handsome grin growing even wider. Clearly proud of himself despite him having taken down much harder prey. 

You glare at him before softening, in some way, you feel like this is his way of apologizing for earlier. Any time he pissed you off he would at least make up for it with his actions. Stolen stimpak? Within the next day, you'd find it replaced along with a bag of RadAway. A few bottle caps would find their way into your bag too, when you brought it up to him he'd deny it, telling you to keep a better eye on your shit.

“Thank you,” you pause, it just dawned on you that you didn't know his name. He was the Ghoul, the Cowboy, your escort across the wasteland. But no name to attach to him. You fish for a polite title for him, and if you knew him better you would've punctuated your gratitude with a kiss, yet the older man didn't seem like one for physical contact. “Thank you, Sir.” Is what you land on. 

His smile fades as if your gratitude offends him and he tosses rabbit carcasses into your lap.

“Make sure Dogmeat gets her fair share. She found ‘em after all.” He says, patting the mutt beside him before making his way to the firepit, and lighting another cigarette. 

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

So of course we've all seen the smut where the ghoul eats you out while on your period...... and my question is this...... do you think that is strictly the ghoul thing? Because of the cannibalism? Or did Cooper prewar already have his red wings? He seems the type to do ANYTHING to make his girl feel better if you catch my drift. Just a thought 😂🤭

It's absolutely not just a cannibalism-related thing; while, ironically, I don't really see Prewar!Cooper Howard as someone who would really enjoy the iron-heavy taste of blood/very rare meat/game-type meat all that much, you are 110% correct in saying that he would do anything to make his partner feel better.

Plus, he's just a munch in general. If he wants to eat pussy, he wants to eat pussy now, not in 4-7 days. It being a little medium-rare doesn't bother him at all.

I didn't intend for this to end up this long. I just sat down to answer this ask real quick and suddenly I had like 2,500 words. I guess you could call it a spiritual prequel to "Bloodletting".

There are a lot of things you don't enjoy about being a person who menstruates. There are also a lot of things you don't enjoy about living in California, namely the summers with their unforgiving heat and brain-frying sun.

Menstruation in the California summer is downright unfair.

After a long day of enduring your body's seemingly intense resentment towards you, you feel disgusting when you finally make it to the home you share with your fiance and immediately drag yourself into a scalding hot shower. Cooper often likes to joke that you're trying to boil yourself in there, playfully chastise that it isn't good for your skin, but the way the heat seeps into your sore muscles is like a siren's call. Once the tap runs cold, you begrudgingly dry yourself, pulling your damp hair up and away from your neck and shoulders before rummaging through the medicine cabinet for something to hopefully ease the ache in your cramping abdominal muscles.

Too tired and sore to worry about scrounging up any food, you throw your still lightly-damp, nude body into your unmade bed and pull the top sheet around you. Normally, the thing would be nicely made before you left the house for the day, but since Cooper left long before you and it fell to you to do the making today, it simply hadn't happened. Cranky, you offer the sleeping dog curled up at the foot a few scratches on his sweet head before closing your eyes and getting in a short, fitful nap.

The familiar jangle of Cooper's keys in the front lock tugs you out of the dreamless void you'd fallen into at some point, and you smile briefly as you hear Roosevelt scuttle off from where he'd been watching over you towards the door. After a moment, you can hear the garbled greetings the older man gives his furry companion, the first step in his homecoming routine, with which you are now intimately familiar. The next step is to shed his boots and jacket, then to drop his keys and the mail on the small table inside the door.

"Honey?" he calls, footsteps moving your way. The two of you spoke on the phone around lunch and he had received a rather generous earful of your complaints.

"I'm here." you respond, turning to face the ceiling groggily as he enters.

"My poor sugar." he laments, the mattress sinking on one side as he sits down beside you, one warm hand patting your back sympathetically. Roosevelt sits briefly beside the bed, watching you curiously, but Cooper dismisses him to his bed in the living room softly, and the dog obeys quietly. "I'm gonna hop in the shower real quick. Can I get you something to take first? Or the hot water bottle, maybe?"

"I already took something, I'm just waiting for it to kick in." you reply, eyes closed as you try to soothe your abdominals with the warmth of your bare hands. "I would take the hot water bottle if you're offering, though."

You cuddle the warm sack of rubber he fetches for you, holding it snug against your stomach under the top sheet as you listen to the sounds of him quickly hopping into and out of the shower. When he emerges, you can see a faint amount of steam seep into the bedroom, as opposed to the thick clouds that typically roll out when you're finished.

"Feeling any better, sweetheart?" he asks, leaning down to kiss at your bare shoulder.

"Eh, sort of." you respond, smiling at the feeling of his lips on your back. The tickling feeling combined with the smell of his body wash encompassing you makes you clench a little, which both fans the low-burning coals in your gut that always smoulder around him and makes another cramp rip through you, sending you whining.

"Aww, poor thing." he coos, petting at your leg and knee. "Did you try anything else?"

"The stuff I took earlier is working okay, and the water bottle is nice." you say, setting the thing aside as you sit up to look at him. There's just a touch more white in the salt-and-pepper of his sideburns now than there was when you originally met him, but you find it very appealing. "I just wish everything wasn't so tight and tense, you know?"

"I hear you." he says, lips moving along your forehead. "I could try making you feel better, if you'd let me."

You chuckle in response, tossing yourself down flat in a dramatic display of exhaustion.

"If you can figure out how, be my guest."

Your words bring a massive grin to his face, and suddenly he's planted himself down between your knees, hands running along your inner thighs and rapidly up towards your mound.

"Cooper, what're you--" you begin, but he cuts you off with a gentle shushing and a light massage to your tight thigh muscles.

"Just lie back and let me help you." he says, lying down flat with his shoulders right even with your knees. He peppers kisses from your navel, down the little trail of soft, downy hair that leads to your mons before ghosting his lips back and forth, back and forth across the skin. It raises goosebumps on your skin almost instantly in anticipation.

"Honey." you huff as another cramp balls up in your middle at the sensation. "Don't tease."

"M'sorry, my girl." he apologizes. "I'll make it better."

Only a moment later, you're crying out as he spreads you open gently with his hands and finds your aching little bud with the tip of his tongue. He doesn't like rare meat all that much, from what you've seen, so you're not sure how crazy he is about the taste of blood, but he doesn't hesitate to slide his tongue fully along your wet, sensitive slit, using the wriggling muscle to worship every inch of you until your vision is full of stars.

The tension in your abdomen increases as he brings you closer and closer to orgasm, your legs quickly moving up to wrap around his head of their own accord, holding him tight in place with his lips and tongue against your clit. Eventually, you feel his fingers gently swiping around your entrance, and the gasp that leaves you when he slips two of them inside of you is echoed by a low groan from your partner. Your hands are knotted tight in the disheveled sheets, your hips bucking and grinding against Cooper's face like they have a mind of their own.

The rhythm he's playing against your bud increases as you whine and cry out his name again, and by the time he's made you cum for the third time, he's visibly grinding his hips against the mattress, licking and sucking at your skin until you tug on his hair for mercy.

His lips and chin are streaked in scarlet as he pulls himself back up, grinning down at you as he pivots to settle on his hip beside you, his warm, softly calloused hand hand still stroking your thigh lovingly as you ride out your last few scant shivers.

"Feel any better now?" he asks as he takes in your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. You roll your eyes playfully, kicking softly in his direction, only to be undercut by him seizing your foot in his hand and peppering it with kisses, making you squeal with laughter.

"Alright, I feel a lot better." you admit when you finally calm down. You sit up a ways, nuzzling beneath his chin, planting wet kisses there and feeling him shiver in response. "But I still think you should have to split these stupid things with me. Or find a way to stop them, maybe. Write some scientists a check or something."

"Oh, I can stop them, sweetheart." he says bawdily, tucking his chin to tease your throat with his tongue as your hand moves to rest on his cheek. "For about a year, a least."

The hand resting on his cheek moves to the back of his head, threading into the thick, dark hair there and gently pressing there to usher him down towards you until your lips meet once more. He knows this is a hot button for both of you, and you want to chastise him for being such a tease. However, your mind is too foggy.

As he leans further towards you, tongue pushing deeper into your mouth, your hand is finally able to find what it's been seeking. His erection is already throbbing in your grip as you stroke him through his boxers, a groan seeping through his nostrils as he pulls back from your kiss. Despite this, you hook your leg around his hip the best you can, attempting to tug him back down between your legs.

"Coop." you whisper, pushing your hips at his.

"You don't have to do that, sweetheart." he says, eyes clenched as tight as his sudden grip on the bed sheets curled around his left hand. You know he wants to fuck you, that he needs to cum after everything he's given you; the evidence is in your hand. However, you also know he'll deny himself for your sake.

"Let me take care of you." you whisper, lips tracing along his throat as your hand continues to work him, concentrating your movements towards the tip and earning a genuine whimper from him. The throaty, vulnerable sound from him makes your entire gut clench, and your lips latch onto his stubbly throat, your tongue lathing his freshly bathed skin.

"I took care of you because I wanted to help you feel better. I don't need anything in return." he replies, his voice low and quiet as he strains to keep it even.

"I want you to feel better, too."

Your hand is fully stroking him again, and by the time you notice the growing wet spot near your hand, he's leaning down and forcing his tongue back into your mouth, sighing contently as he pulls himself back between your legs. One hand softly kneads your left breast, his weight balanced on his elbow and knee as he works his shorts down, kicking them off the foot of the bed absentmindedly.

A subconscious sigh leaves you as you drink in the sight of him, his leaking cock laying, flushed red and painfully hard, against his toned stomach. Trying your best to ignore the way he smirks at you, easy as you wrap your legs around his hips, his hand moving between you to guide himself teasingly along your entrance. You sigh his name when the head of him finally catches and sinks fluidly into your warmth.

Your tense pelvic muscles ache in protest for a passing moment as they adjust to him, to his weight pressing into you, but as you breathe deep, the stretch eases away some of the strain, leaving you sighing with relief as he begins to gently fuck you.

He's soft and slow to begin with, watching your face closely as you adjust to him, burying his face in your neck and latching onto it with his lips as you finally take him to the hilt.

"Oh, Cooper." you sigh, gripping hard at his shoulders as you grind your clit against his pubic bone, the soft texture of his pubic hair adding to the mountain of sensations he's making you experience. "I needed this so bad."

Your admission seems to only fuel him, groaning as his fingers move to strum at your clit again, pressing practiced circles around the swollen little nub just like you'd shown him to do. The rough feeling of the small callous he has on his trigger finger drives you absolutely mad with pleasure, making you tighten around him as you cry out.

"Fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day." he confesses in a low, hushed tone as his hips continue to slap against yours, still mindful of where his weight is placed over you, but growing steadily more forceful in his movements. Soon, he has you built up into a sweaty mess, crying out for more of his touch, more of him in general as he holds your hips tight.

"I'm gonna cum, Coop." you pant, face red hot and damp as the rest of you as he continues to work back and forth between your thighs. The sudden feeling of his white teeth, sharp and strong, digging into the crook of your neck makes you whimper, and the sound seems to teleport him right to the exact same spot you're in.

"Shit, me too." he hisses, lips and tongue still attacking your neck as his hips quickly lose their rhythm, driving hard into you once, twice, three more times before he pulls back and shoots his load all over your soft stomach, growling like a wild animal as jet after jet of thick, sticky cum coats your flushed skin.

Once you've both come down from your high, you wiping pitifully at your sweaty face as he extracts himself from you as gently as possible, hand threading through his damp hair, you both chuckle, lying on your sides facing one another at the foot of the bed, catching your breaths. He grabs for your hand like he always does after you make love, holding it snug in the palm of his own as you bask in the afterglow.

The only difference now is that there's an engagement ring on your hand for him to play with. Seeing it on you seems to make him swell with pride, and that makes you feel warm inside.

"How does a nice, hot bath and some takeout sound?" he asks eventually, running his lips along your forehead as his hands massage at your lower back.

"Sounds amazing." you smirk, pulling back a few inches to look at him mischievously. "But I already had a super long, hot shower when I got home. Is double dipping allowed?"

Smirking at your coy playfulness, he pulls you up into his lap and snug against his chest, both of you wincing slightly at the slick, wet feeling of the mess all over both of your stomachs. The man never fails to produce quite a bit.

"Normally, I'd say no." he fires back matter-of-factually. "But considering the circumstances, I'll allow it this one time."

"You did make quite the mess." you chastise, but your words are quickly interrupted by him quickly snatching you up, hefting you into the air as he takes a moment to balance you both before making his way into the en suite bathroom.

"Well, one could argue that the mess is at least partially your fault, but I'm willing to take responsibility for my part and help tidy you up." he chuckles as he carries you towards the tub. "I'm very thorough in my cleaning."

"Promise?" you chuckle suggestively.

"Promise." he winks.

[zomboivex]

Hi there! Hope you are doing super well. I have a HC request. How would Jin, Romeo, Ritsu, and Taiga; react to hearing MC singing and playing an instrument? Like a guitar, piano or harmonica.

Anyways! Stay hydrated and be sure to eat. I look forward to reading your work.

The Sound of Music

How Jin, Romeo, Ritsu, and Taiga would react to hearing my any musical talent from MC.

.・✫・゜・。. .・✫・゜・。. .・✫

Fingers would position themselves at the ready. Each key hit with the varying intensity needed- soft subtle tunes carrying through the building you called home. The piano, when you first found it, had been quite dusty. Clear that no one had paid it any mind for some time. Your hesitation to actually take a seat and play clad with the trepidation of each note that carried out from your delicate touch.

The build up from each key growing louder as you found a budding confidence within you. It had been some time since you last played. Since you last found any joy in music. Especially since you first came to Darkwick with the newly placed curse. That fact weighing heavy on your chest. But.. your time was nearing an end. The anomaly inside you growing- gnawing and chewing away at your own consciousness. Each day becoming that much harder to push through. So.. the least you could do was pour your heart out through the sound of music.

Each note carrying the weight of your feelings. Even if no one were here to listen, you hardly cared. It was a mournful song for yourself. Lamenting over what was to come. What had passed. What will never be.

Engrossed in your own melody, you wouldn’t hear the footsteps approaching from behind you.

𝓙𝓲𝓷 𝓚𝓪𝓶𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓲

Hands appeared beside you, the slender fingers carefully pressing onto the keys to complement the melody you were so carefully crafting. The subtly of your duet echoing up through the high-rise ceiling, reverberating throughout the Clementia halls. The two of you made quite the pair on the piano, the melody coming to its end before your eyes met the Frostheim Captain. His gaze icy and unwavering.

A nervous chuckle worked its way from your lips. “I wasn’t expecting any visitors.”

Jin’s gaze piercing through you before his answer, which came out in an assured mumble- what an odd combination, “I didn’t expect you to know how to play.”

Anxiously, you would look back at your fingers. The tips resting gracefully atop the keys. Long slender ones reaching over to now place gently over yours, pressing down as a few notes rang out in response.

“When did you learn how to play?” The question must have caught Jin by surprise because he would let his eyes rest to his hand resting on yours.

“Does it really matter?”

Maybe it didn’t. You asked to try and get to know the ghoul before you just a little more. But he didn’t seem too keen on giving away more information than necessary. Why would it matter, anyways? You wouldn’t exactly be around to remember the details, anyways. Not with the curse transforming you as it was.

“You play nice.” Your words quiet. Topic shifting from your question.

A smirk, albeit small, formed on the male’s lips as his hands pulled from yours, resting in position as he began to play once more. Your fingers going to match the duet. Notes of musical splendor dancing between the two of you and throughout the room and no words shared. There wasn’t a reason for either of you to say much else, enjoying the simplicity in the moment, instead. Let things be as they were. Enjoy what you could while you were able.

𝓡𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓸 𝓢𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓹𝓲𝓾𝓼 𝓛𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓲

You continued to play, the tempo picking up and crescendo building as the climax of the song began to take off. You were fully engrossed in the music you were creating, lost in the melody that carried your thoughts to a world with less worries. A more carefree time- before you had been cursed. Every ounce of feelings poured into each brushing of the keys until the music would lull down and stop.

A soft clap followed by their own build up as you felt your body stiffen up. Turning your head, you were greeted with a gaze that could pierce through your soul.

“I didn’t expect you, of all people, to know how to play. Color me impressed.”

Your posture relaxed slightly. Romeo wasn’t one to give compliments. So it was odd he found himself here, in Clementia, listening as you play. This time, you were acutely aware of the approaching footsteps as Romeo would come closer- now standing behind you.

Fingers brushed along the keys, the melody carrying your melancholy throughout. Gentle. Soft. Sad. The notes each heavy on your heart before the lilting sound came to a natural end. No clapping followed this time. Only silence.

A reminder that Romeo was there when he spoke, “You’re not allowed to give up, BB.”

Ah. There it was.

“Who’s going to be the one to help me keep that BTH in check!? And don’t even suggest Shinjo! He’s almost worse! I can barely keep it together! So you’re not allowed to turn into that thing! Do you understand me!?” The histrionics following as his words echoed throughout the cathedral of Clementia.

You couldn’t find your voice- letting Romeo on his tirade of colorful words before he finally seemed to stop, voice catching in his own throat. His emotions on full display. He always was one to make his displeasures known. But you were surprised he actually cared.

“I understand.” You respond back quietly, turning once again to look back at the Sinostra student. His eyes aching and the threat of tears lingering. So unlike him. And yet- perfectly like him, at the same time. “We still have time.” You reassured him. You reassured yourself.

𝓡𝓲𝓽𝓼𝓾 𝓢𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓳𝓸

The entrance of another was not lost on you, your playing coming to an abrupt halt as your gaze would turn to look over at the approaching figure. Ritsu Shinjo. The last person you had ever expected to see visiting you.

His expression was that always confident gaze- unwavering in the assuredness of his entire being. You had grown fond of this aspect of Ritsu. If you had any doubts, they were quashed when you saw how sure of any outcome Ritsu was. Never faltering. It had given you your own strength to pursue breaking your curse. Even now, with the end nearing, you still found yourself feeling hopeful with how sure he was.

“You play well. As expected of my partner.” The words of praise reaching you. And you couldn’t help but to smile at them.

“It’s just a small hobby. Nothing to boast of-“ you tried to remain humble.

To which Ritsu immediately would call you out on, “Why be shy about it? The world should know just how great you are!” He definitely seemed confused on the matter. Why wouldn’t you want everyone to know?

But the thought was banished when your hand gently pat the seat next to you. “Do you play, Ritsu?”

The paralegal would, with poised posture, sit beside you as you had requested. Hands covering over the keys before giving that trademark grin of his, “I do.”

And then he’d press down, an elegant melody following. One you barely recognized. But the strokes were simple and easy enough to follow along so you’d let him take the lead.

The two of you would play together, your trepidation of each note clear while the radiant confidence from Ritsu would guide you along. Eventually, the song would reach its conclusion and, ever so gently, you felt a brief touch to your hand. The ghoul having brushed his fingers softly to the top of your hands before retracting. As if he could only interact momentarily. And- for a second- you thought you saw a hint of melancholy in his eyes. Brief. But it was there.

Perhaps Ritsu wasn’t as confident in the outcome as you had been hoping he’d be.

𝓣𝓪𝓲𝓰𝓪 𝓗𝓸𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓫𝓪𝓶𝓲

“The fuck is this?” A familiar voice spoke out, your hands pausing and head whipping around. Surely, you were just as confused as Taiga was. After all, what was he doing here? Of all the people to walk in on you- it had to be him.

“Taiga, what are you-?” Before you could continue asking, the ghoul would lazily plop down beside you on the bench. His eyes landing on the keys. For a moment, you thought that the two of you would have a moment. His own hand hovering over as if ready to press down. Did Taiga know how to play…?

This thought was quickly banished when the loud mashing of notes caused your ears to ring and eyes to squint. The abrupt noises ending as quickly as they had started and wild eyes meeting yours.

“How’d you make it sound so good?” Another mash of keys as if to emphasize his question. A bit of a smile tugging at your lips in response.

Fingers going to delicately take their place before softly pressing down. Once. Twice. Then you’d speak, “You press gently. Slow.”

Taiga observed for a moment before he’d go to place a finger on the key, pressing down as the string would vibrate to create a softer sound than before. A few soft taps. And then he’d stop, watching your hands.

“Show me how you made music.”

You would oblige, going to begin a softer melody. Taiga watching and observing. He would never remember how to play. But he wanted to remember how you played. So he would etch the melody you presented into his mind as best as he could.

𝓑𝓸𝓷𝓾𝓼

𝓗𝓪𝓻𝓾 𝓢𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓪

You had been practicing for hours, it seemed. The instrument firm in your hands as fingers plucked at strings. Thankful you lived alone in Clementia. Not because of shame but it made practice less distracting. The twinge of strings resounding throughout as your banjo played its bop. You had been engrossed in what you were doing- the gasp that followed shocking you as your eyes widened to meet equally (and surprisingly widened) eyes. Ones you had never seen before. Though you looked away quickly- afraid to make contact for long. Your cheeks burning.

“You know how to play banjo!?” The words excited as they left the ghoul in question.

“Y-yes.” You stammered.

Haru would give a toothy grin. In true Sims fashion, he would produce his own banjo from his pocket. And he would begin to play. Your nervous demeanor melting as you’d soon join in. And the both of you joyously playing the banjo together in Clementia halls.

.・✫・゜・。. .・✫・゜・。. .・✫

Thank you so much for your patience! I hope this is satisfactory for you. I’m not really much of a music person, myself. But I still had fun writing this.

[anonwyvern]

I’ve seen posts from over the years lamenting on the fact that our favorite seven-foot-tall ghoul has very little backstory, but you know, it’s probably one of my favorite things about him.

Sure, I totally get why some want to have the whole nine yards of his past (particularly with his contract) but I think it’s super fun to instill your own thoughts and theories because there’s essentially nothing there. He has just enough to build on, and I think it’s fascinating to see everybody else’s takes on his past and the utter confusing contradictions of his whole brainwashed contract definitely-not-a-slave don’t look a gift ghoul in the mouth sort of aspect. I’m pretty sure there was a post floating around at one point where even his creator had said he kept it open and vague for somewhat of that reason, and I personally think that’s cool af.

[ringmaster-midori]

At The Tipsy Capybara Tavern in Willowside, Demetrius the tavernkeep tended to a stewpot of horse-bone stew supplemented with some local weeds that had been growing inside the town's defense wall. He sighed and shook his head as he finally gave in and added finely minced leather from some old belts for added protein. "This food shortage is killing us," he lamented to himself, "literally!"

The mayor's advisors and aides hunched over one of the tables, updating maps and notes with the latest information regarding the xulgath siege. One young man looked up hopefully as the leathery smell from the stewpot filled the common room, but hope gave way to culinary despair, and he returned to his papers, clutching at his grumbling belly.

The front door opened, letting Midori inside. Her once-red fur had been drained of its color, leaving it snowy white save for the dark circles around her eyes. Her cloak and scout gear had splatters of blood and dirt but otherwise remained undamaged.

Weak shouts of "Midori!" came from the mayor's people.

Demetrius eagerly shot out, "Didja bring back any meat this time? Any food at all?"

Midori shook her head. "No, not this time, sorry. At the dino corrals, the tyrannosauruses ended up eatin' the brontosauruses, so we had to cheese it outta there amid all the chaos. An' at the gug huts...well, nobody should be eatin' ghoul meat...an' we let the gugs escape to go back underground to the Darklands."

Petunia Sunnyridge, one of the mayor's aides, snapped, "Aren't you finished out there yet? The mayor is not pleased with the speed with which you are handling your tasks!"

"Look, Petunia," Midori, her patience wearing thin, shot back at the middle-aged halfling woman, "we just need to clear out the last corral or whatever full o' demon dinosaurs an' xulgaths, then we're comin' back to rest up for the night an' replenish our spells so we'll be prepared for the assault on the massed xulgath army out there. One more day! Give us a break, gods damn it!"

The kitsune sighed and turned to the tavernkeep. "Any booze left?"

Demetrius shook his head. "Nope. I had to add the last of it into the stewpot for the calories. Our reserves are bone-dry. Can I get you a bowl of stew?"

Midori sniffed the air and grimaced. "Hard pass. Save it for the townsfolk."

The blonde halfling interrupted, "Booze? Drinking instead of fighting? Get back out there! Lives are at stake!"

Midori rounded on her, "Hakuna your tatas, lady! I'm here to talk to somebody I met who's willin' to help us all out with the siege. Cayden H. Cailean in a chicken basket! Have some patience! She should be showin' up here any minute now."

@chainxdancer

[coffeeghoulie]

23 and gimme some aether Swiss YASSSS

Ghostober Day 13: Impact Play

Much thanks to @kroas-adtam for putting Ghostober together <3

Prompt from this list: #23- "Don't be gentle with me— I like it when you're rough."

Pairing: Aether/Swiss

Aether realizes Swiss is a masochist, and takes full advantage of that fact.

Explicit, 1k. Contains spanking and manhandling.

Divider by @wrathofrats <3

There's an almost manic glint in Swiss's eye as Aether drags him backstage by the wrist that makes something inside him burn. All things considered, he shouldn't be; Swiss hadn't exactly done anything wrong. Off the books, yes. Wrong? Not at all.

But it hadn't stopped something wicked flaring in the center of Aether's chest when Swiss had hopped off of his platform and slid on his knees under the pyrotechnics. The way he had jolted and hips bucked when the sparks hit his skin, sleeves rolled up, was now burned into every part of Aether's brain.

Not to mention the way he'd pressed the body of his guitar into his hips, chest heaving as he tipped his head back almost orgasmically.

The moment bows end, Aether's pulling Swiss back towards the bus, growling through his glamour low in his throat. "The fuck were you thinking?"

Swiss barks out a laugh, eyes still wild with adrenaline. "What do you mean? I'm fine," he says, dodging roadies as Aether drags them back to the bus. "Look."

Aether looks at Swiss's still glamoured, bare forearms. There's no welts, not even a reddened spot where the sparks had hit. He laughs, low and rumbling. "I'm glad you're alright, sparkler, but that's not what I was asking."

Amethyst eyes drop down to the bulge tenting Swiss's uniform pants. Swiss's grin falls, arm tensing under Aether's iron wrought grip. "Oh- Aether-"

"What, Swiss?" Aether croons, low and dark and laced with the threat of his magick. "Tell me why you looked like you were about to blow on stage in front of all of those humans."

Swiss, for once in the few years Aether's known him, doesn't have an answer. But he can feel the multi-ghoul's heart rate start to spike, warm spice arousal flooding the air around them. "Surely it wasn't being watched?" Aether says, circling around what he knows is the truth like a shark.

He shakes his head, stumbling up the stairs to the bus, straight back to the little bedroom at the back of the bus. Aether almost laments how much it'll reek of sex when they're done, but remembers it always does after a show night, and shrugs, shutting the door behind him. "It was the pain, wasn't it?" Aether rumbles, and the way Swiss's eyes light up in anticipation and the tiniest bit of fear goes straight to Aether's cock.

They both strip quickly, cringing only a little at the heap they leave their uniforms in, at the way their boots thud against the wall. But the lust and adrenaline quickly overshadow all of that.

Aether pushes at Swiss's shoulders, sending him face first into the mattress with a soft groan. His glamour melts away just so he can hitch his tail up over his hip teasingly, propping himself up on his forearms as he peers over his shoulder at him, eyes glittering metallic. Swiss's scent is so much stronger like this, now that he's completely bare, and Aether takes a deep breath with a groan.

"Just asking for it, aren't you, sparkler?" Aether rumbles, big hands running up Swiss's flanks, laughing under his breath at the way the spade of his tail twitches. He drags his hands back down, letting his blunt nails drag reddening lines along his sides.

"Mhmm," Swiss hums, dropping lower until his back is in a pretty arch. He shifts his hips, and Aether swallows hard, smacking the side of his ass in warning.

It doesn't work quite as intended. Swiss just arches a little higher, tail twitching where it's hitched up, and he moans low in his throat. "C'mon, big guy. Don't be gentle with me— I like it when you're rough."

Aether laughs, low and rumbling, and grabs at Swiss's ass, blunt fingers dimpling the charcoal grey flesh. "Oh, I'll be rough, sparkler. Need you to listen to me and I'll give you exactly what you want."

He grinds forward, rutting his cock along the cleft of Swiss's ass. The sheer force behind it shoves Swiss's chest further into the mattress, but he makes no complain, just moans again. Aether spanks him again, grinning as his skin flushes in the shape of his handprint.

It makes something feral burn in Aether's ribcage, pounding in time with his heart. They're still soaked with sweat from the Ritual, and as soon as Aether realizes that, there's a flash of memory, of watching Swiss violating his microphone stand, grinding against it like a whore.

He grabs Swiss harshly by the hips, hauling him up until Aether can turn him, sitting at the foot of the mattress and draping Swiss over his lap. Aether gets a glimpse of pretty gold eyes rolling back into the multi-ghoul's head.

Swiss humps forward almost involuntarily as Aether smacks his ass again, the sound echoing around the tiny bedroom. He moans sharply, between the impact and the way the hard line of his cock presses into Aether's thick thigh.

"I think this is all I'm giving you tonight," Aether leans down, getting a handful of Swiss's locs and gently pulling them out of his face. "Spank your ass until you make a mess of yourself."

Swiss groans, fingers tensed into the sheets as he braces himself. As his head hangs, he pulls at Aether's gentle grip in his hair. "Fuck, Aeth, I am so fucking down, you have no idea."

Aether grins, his gold fang flashing in the low light. "You know what to say and do if that changes?" His tone settles into something colder, something he usually reserves for Rain's brattiest moments.

Swiss shudders as Aether's voice flows through him, the same way he does when he's dosed with quintessence, but there won't be any magick until they're done, soothing the worst of the ache. "Fuck," Swiss gasps under his breath, pressing his hips hard into Aether's thigh in search of pressure and friction. "Yes, sir, I know what to say to stop."

"Good boy," Aether croons, genuine and kind. "Now, count for me."

[yumeaoka-chan]

Hunger Pains

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Reader/ Ghoul! Hobie x Human! Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Tags: Tokyo Ghoul au, Blood, Ghoulified Hobie, no physical description of reader, can be read as gender neutral reader, scared reader, badass Hobie (I'm really not good at writing fight scenes, ugh), cursing, death (not as bad as you think), lovesick reader, lovesick Hobie, hungry boi Hobie, "The lion falls in love with the lamb" basically

Summary: You go to visit Hobie after not hearing from him for weeks.

A/N: Credit for the lovely banners goes to @the-shroom-garden !!! Late entry for week 3 of Octobie, I'm sorry @the-kr8tor 😭🤚 I got sick outta nowhere, so I'm currently laying in bed as I post this😔 I was going to write a Baldur's Gate 3 au but, the angst potential of Tokyo Ghoul kept screaming at me😭🤚

Taking a deep breath, you knock softly on the door, the houseboat calmly rocking on the water.

“Hobie? Are you in there?” You call out, a frown forming on your lips as you notice no lights are on inside. It's eerily quiet, especially at this time of night. You knew you should've waited until the morning. Tears sting your eyes and you inhale shakily, trying to will the feeling away. Hobie has been distant lately, almost as if he was avoiding you. If you call, he doesn't pick up. When you went to his band practice, his bandmates claimed he wasn't there. And when you went to his favorite hiding spot, the rooftop of a small local music shop that overlooks the city, he was nowhere to be seen.

Just when things were going so well, you thought to yourself as you slowly made your way off of his boat. You and Hobie had been friends for what felt like forever, being together through most of Primary school and all throughout Secondary. Even now, while you are enrolled in college, you two are thick as thieves. Throughout the years, your fondness and admiration of him had slowly formed into adoration and, dare you say it, love. You were in love with him, had been in love with him for quite a while. And just when you had worked up the courage to tell him how you feel, he practically ghosts you.

Walking through the shortcut through the alleyway to get to your dorm, you don't notice the set of eyes watching you from the rooftops, too busy lamenting over Hobie and what you could have done to push him away. The late night streets are silent, not a single soul out due to the frigid cold of the winter breeze. Shivering, you pull your jacket tighter around your body, sniffling from the cold or tears, perhaps. As you trudge on, you suddenly hear something behind you. The faintest of footsteps, the most quiet of chuckles. The very sound makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, goosebumps raising on your arms. Taking a steadying breath, you keep walking, albeit quicker than before. No good would come of acknowledging the sound, that much you knew.

The footsteps draw nearer still, making your heart begin to pound in your chest. Your pulse quickens, your breath hitches, and you suddenly forget to remain calm. Zipping and darting through the deserted streets of London, you try to lose your pursuer through the series of backstreets. Fear grips your chest as you hear the footsteps grow even closer, the chuckles now turned into cackles. How could you be so stupid? Walking around this late, knowing full well that they lurked in the shadows. You want to cry when you slam into a tall metal gate, hurriedly looking over your shoulder. That's when you see him. Tall and broad and practically frothing at the mouth, the long blue appendage coiled around his arm gleaming under the light of the moon. His grin is unhinged, eyes glowing red with pulsing veins surrounding them. When they meet your gaze, you can see the eagerness in them. It makes you let out a fearful cry as you scramble to climb over the gate.

A hand suddenly grips your foot, making you slip and cut your palm open on the sharp metal. You let out a hiss and you struggle to free your foot, fear clawing its way into your chest. The ghoul behind you inhales deeply, salivating at the scent of your blood oozing down your arm.

“Been so long since I had such a good looking meal. I'll savor you, little lambchop.” He cackles as he wrenches you away from the gate with one strong tug. You yelp as you fall down harshly onto the ground, your nose the first to collide onto the asphalt. Head swimming from the impact, you hardly register the crimson dripping from your nose, eyes blearily looking up at your captor with horror. And as he pried open his dripping maw, you could see your life flashing before your eyes. Every joyous moment, every harsh disappointment. And yet, no memory shined brighter than those that involved Hobie. You were going to die before ever getting to reveal your feelings to him. Lips wobbling and tears falling, you gazed at the face of your demise and whispered the one you wanted to see most.

“Hobie…” Just as quick as those words left your lips, the ghoul in front of you was viciously ripped away. Eyes wide with shock and disbelief at the sudden rescue, you blink up at the figure suddenly standing above you. His back was turned to you and sprouting from it were eight long, sharp, spider leg like tendrils. They were as red as the darkest of wines and glowed brightly, illuminating the alleyway. Squinting your eyes, you could see the faint outline of his head, the hair on his head making you gasp. Not just the hair, the clothes too. The leather jacket on his back and the boots that adorned him were all too familiar. Sitting up a bit, your lips tremble as you utter his name.

“I-Is that you… Hobie…?” Hearing his name on your lips is like a godsend everytime, but not this time. Not when you're shaking like a leaf from fear. Hobie grits his teeth as he turns to look down at you, hearing the sharp intake of breath you make when you see his eyes. One brown and one a glowing red, angry red veins surrounding it. He gives you a placating smile before turning his head back to glare at the ghoul that's now standing across from him. The taller man snarls, spit flying from his lips as his coiled appendage glows brighter.

“You filthy One-Eyed! That's my dinner! I called dibs!” Crouching low and spider-like appendages curling around his form, Hobie glares harshly at the other.

“Touch a hair on this one's head and I'll fuckin’ kill you”, he utters lowly, voice on the edge of a growl. The taller ghoul cackles and points his finger at Hobie, eyes wild and sharp with mania.

“That right? I'll just devour you before I feast on the lambchop's flesh then!” With a roaring shout, the crazed ghoul rushes at Hobie, his sharp coiled appendage aimed straight for his chest. Fury rumbles in his chest as Hobie dashes forward to meet him, his deadly appendages shooting forward to harshly stab the ghoul's shoulder. The broad man howls with pain before twisting his body free of them, arm moving to swipe at the other's chest. Wincing as he feels it slice through his shirt and graze his skin, Hobie uses his appendages to propel himself into the air, before viciously bringing them down onto the man's head.

The fight goes on for several minutes, your eyes darting to and fro as you try to spot Hobie in all the madness. They're both quick and every blow you see him take makes you grip your chest, scared that he'll die in this violent whirlwind. Your heart hammers in your ears and it feels like the bloody battle drones on for nearly an hour. There's dust as they kick up and crack the asphalt beneath their feet, making it impossible to see through. Stumbling on your feet, your ears pick up the sudden wail of pain that rings in the air. It's silent then, the dust slowly clearing.

Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly walk forward, stepping closer to where you can hear the sounds of harsh panting. Just as you step into the circle of dust, you see a glowing red eye staring back at you.

“Don't!” Hobie's booming command rings in your ear and your body seizes up almost automatically. As the dust finally starts to settle, you can see how he grips his right side, blood flowing through his fingers. His other hand is held out in your direction, palm facing you in a clear indication for you not to come any closer. Hobie's face is scrunched up in a painful grimace as he watches concern flit across your features. He adamantly shakes his head, feet slowly backing away from you.

“Don't”, he says, softer this time, like he can't mask the agony that colors his voice. “P-Please just… don't…” He can't take it, can't take how good you smell. How good your blood smells. Skin that he knows would be so soft beneath his fingers, so giving as his nails dig into your arm, leaving marks that would never fade as his lips descend onto your neck. Hobie closes his eyes as the very image seers inside of his brain. It's so vivid that he can almost taste it, taste the way your skin gives beneath his teeth as he gorges himself on the divine banquet that is your flesh.

“No, no, fuck, no…”, he mumbles to himself, hand that was held out to you now gripping his hair. He tugs on the coarse hair, biting his lip so hard that he breaks the skin. “Not Star… Not my Star…” Because how could he ever think to harm you, his Star, his light in this oppressed world? Just the fact that he even imagined tainting you, defiling your body with his disgusting, atrocious hunger… Tears slip down his cheeks as he feels the gaping blackhole in his stomach nag at him, begging him to feast on you, the one he loved most. Because what is love if not to consume and be consumed in return?

You weren't blind to his internal conflict, seeing the way he leered at you before stumbling back, farther away from you. Taking a step forward, you're careful to avoid stepping on the body of the dead ghoul in front of him. Hobie's head shoots up and it makes your heart ache, seeing the waterfall of tears cascading down his cheeks. He's shaking his head furiously as he stumbles back slowly and you steel your resolve, even as he yells and curses at you. Shouts of “No, stay back” and “I'll hurt you, please stay back” ring in your ears and with a heavy heart, you press on. Hobie's back is pressed against a brick wall by the time you come face to face with him, his lips trembling and long legs shaking slightly.

“Hobie”, you breathe out softly as you press a shaky hand against his cheek, making him shudder. “Hobes… Is this why you've been avoiding me…?” His face twists into a visibly pained scowl as he clenches his eyes shut. Taking a careful breath, he slowly nods his head. Fear releases its icy claws from your heart, leaving only tenderness and concern for the man before you. You wait patiently as he calms his frantic breathing, the appendages surrounding him slowly retreating into his back. When he looks at you again, you see his brown eyes glistening, the hunger still lurking beneath the depths of his lipid pools. You give him a small smile, acceptance shining in your soft gaze.

“Tell me everything. From the beginning, okay?” Is what you whisper to him. Hobie can't help but bask in the bright light, the shining beacon that is you. It's then and there that he's determined to find a way to put that sickening hunger to sleep for good, his love for you stronger than his beast.

“It's… a long story, love…”

[miasmaghoul]

Okay, you said you wanted non-sexual prompts, so if this is a no thats totally fine. Could you write like casual piss? I don't know how to word this. No smut involved, just domestic? If that makes sense...

anon please know that the phrase "casual, domestic piss" has been on repeat in my weird little brain since i first read this, and also that i had an idea for it immediately

god i am such a pissboy smh

anyway, here, have some soft rulti ft a little casual, domestic piss.

what a sentence.

Rain is not what you could call a morning person.

He never rouses before noon, at least not willingly, and even when he is awake he simply migrates. Shuffles out of bed and drapes himself dramatically over a sofa to doze back off until someone pays attention to him. Trying to wake Rain up before he's ready is a futile task at best, and at worst a bite risk. Generally this isn't much of a problem - mass is in the evening, there are no strictly scheduled mealtimes or chores, so Rain is free to be as slothful as his heart desires.

Even rehearsal doesn't usually interfere.

On an average day, any practice happens whenever the ghouls feel like it. There's no rhyme or reason to it, really; sometimes they have creative energy that needs expressing, sometimes Dew gets a bug up his ass about working on a solo and drags along company, sometimes Mountain gets in one of his moods and hauls Rain over his shoulder for an impromptu...rhythm session.

Point is, it's not really something that's planned. More of a casual affair, something they do every day but never the same way twice. Again, this works out perfectly for Rain. There's never a rush to start the day, and the others know by now not to expect him at anything close to a reasonable hour.

The issue arises when tours approach.

Unfortunately (for Rain), Copia has proven to be a morning person. Rain (somewhat) silently laments that fact every time Sister Imperator announces a new leg, a new cycle. Every time, Rain hopes it'll be different. That Copia will suddenly despise the idea of singing with the morning sun, that he won't expect them to be up and ready to go by 9am, can you imagine?

(It should be noted that Rain is the only ghoul that actually minds this.)

Alas, this never proves to be the case, and as soon as his phone chimed with the notification of an Imperator meeting Rain knew that his beauty sleep was soon to be severely compromised.

"Next week," Copia had said after Sister Imperator laid out the proposed itinerary. "Next week, on Sunday, we will resume our standard rehearsal schedule."

He'd handed out a list of thirty songs to each of them, a not-so-short list for the ghouls to study and provide input on. An opportunity for them to put together their own setlists to compare and contrast them with one another.

Rain had used his sheet of paper to hide his frown, dreading the fact that Sunday was only five sleeps away.

"I know that face," Swiss had teased when they left the meeting, looping a strong arm around Rain's shoulders. "Someone's being a pouty princess again."

Rain had given him a hiss, but Swiss just grinned at him in that very Swiss way and, well, Rain can never stay mad at him anyway.

"Not all of us look good with eye bags like yours" he'd grumbled, a statement that had wrung a loud ha from Swiss.

"I dunno," he'd snickered, ducking his head to knock his horns with Rain's. "You look pretty damn good when I tire you out."

Rain had rolled his eyes so hard he'd gotten dizzy, but it wasn't an accusation he could deny.

He also couldn't deny Swiss the opportunity to prove his point, and as they lay in the afterglow Rain gives a mighty yawn.

"This's bullshit," he slurs against Swiss' chest, nuzzling into the spot that smells the most like pepper and whisky and old weed. "Who even gets up that early?"

"Most of the abbey is up at dawn," Swiss chuckles, settling into Rain's lanky hold. "You're the exception to the rule, starfish."

Rain would argue, but then Swiss' purr kicks up and he's sinking his fingers into his sweat-damp waves and Rain feels little desire to do more than enjoy the way Swiss envelopes him. The way their skin sticks together with drying sweat, among other things. Swiss had given him a courteous cleanup where it mattered, but Rain's entirely too wiped out for a shower. Wonderfully sore all over, drained, and way too dehydrated to stand up for very long.

He doesn't mind it though - not when it makes him smell like Swiss too.

"Whatever," he grumbles, grabbing the covers and tugging them up over his shoulders. "S'still bullshit."

He's been fighting to keep his eyes open for the last twenty minutes or so, drifting on casual conversation and the brush of Swiss' fingertips along his bare back. Now that they're finally settling in Rain finds himself fading by the second.

"Don' wake me up'n the morning," he adds with another yawn, and the last thing Rain hears before all goes quiet is the raspy little laugh Swiss gives in return.

The next thing he hears is rushing water, creaking pipes and the telltale twitter of birdsong.

It feels like no time at all since he sunk into the peaceful realm of sleep, but when he dares to crack an eye Rain finds himself assaulted by rosy sunlight. Morning. Early, by the look of it. Rain shuts his eyes tight and groans.

"Finally," a deep voice hums, clearly amused. Footsteps pad across the floor and Rain feels the mattress dip behind him. "I've been shaking you for ten minutes."

Swiss reaches up to scratch at the base of one of Rain's horns, affectionate. Rain makes an unhappy sound, as close to a real whine as he ever gets, and Swiss gives his shoulder a squeeze.

"Why 'm I awake?" Rain hates his morning voice, all thick and inelegant. "Did I sleep 'til Sunday?"

"If that's what it takes to get you out of bed," Swiss chuffs, reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind Rain's ear. "Let's go, up 'n at 'em," he encourages, regardless of continual grumbly protests. "You might as well get used to existing before lunchtime while you can."

"This is torture," Rain complains, tucking his knees up towards his chest. "Inhumane."

"Good thing we aren't human, I guess."

Rain cracks an eye open just to shoot Swiss' blurry visage a sideways glare. Swiss winks as he lifts the covers just enough to lean down and press a kiss to Rain's shoulder. He rests his chin there after, gives him a warm smile.

"C'mon, raindrop," he lilts, sneaking lithe fingers under the covers. Dragging them along the nape of Rain's neck. "I'm drawing you a bath, surely you can forgive me."

Ah, that would explain the water he can still hear. Rain blinks at him, sluggish.

"Remains to be seen," he grouses, "but it's a start."

Swiss flashes him a grin, and then those warm, cozy covers are ripped from Rain's naked body with no ceremony. He yelps as the chilly morning air hits his skin, more awake than he ever intended to be and scowling at the other ghoul.

"Oh don't make that face," Swiss teases, reaching down to give Rain's nose a gentle flick. "C'mon, I put that weird shit you like in the tub and everything."

Swiss holds Rain's ankle, rubs his thumb over the bony ridge of it while Rain sniffs at the air. Picks up notes of rosemary and peppermint, citrus and rose. The bath salts Mountain had gifted him for Yule, an energizing scent that's sure to chase the exhaustion from his muscles.

Still, he can't give in that easily.

"Fine," he pouts, stretching his legs and not at all adoring the way Swiss' fingers glide along his skin. "But only if you carry me."

The words earn him an extreme eye roll, but Swiss can't hide his amusement. He heaves a mighty sigh, cracks his neck and knuckles, and Rain most definitely doesn't watch the muscles in his arms and chest flex.

"As you command, princess."

Swiss says it with an exaggerated bow, and then he's scooping Rain up with no further preamble. Rain snickers, looping his arms around Swiss' neck and nuzzling into his shoulder. He's warm and solid, comfy, and if the walk to the bathroom was more than ten steps Rain could very easily drift off again.

As it stands, he's being set down far too soon for his liking, letting out a squeak when his bare ass meets the cold marble of his vanity. Swiss kisses him on the forehead when Rain frowns once again, giving his stomach a little tickle just to make him squirm.

"You want it hot or scalding?" Swiss asks as he strides to the tub, steam wafting around him. Rain stares unabashedly at his ass, eyes tracing the obvious bite mark he left there the night before.

"Boil me like a lobster," Rain sighs, stretching his arms over his head and trilling at the way his spine pops. Swiss gives him a thumbs up, twisting the faucet knobs while Rain yawns. "How much salt did you put in?"

"Enough to make you smell like the greenhouse for a week," Swiss replies, testing the temperature and only hissing a little at the heat. Rain takes a deep breath, taking in the herbal steam and letting it soak into his skin. "Mount'll be all over you."

"Don't sound so jealous," Rain says with a sleepy tilt, scratching at his chest, "you can share me once in a while."

Swiss snorts as he wipes his hand on the bath mat, turning back with a lazy smile on his face. Rain blows him a kiss while he swings his feet, ankles crossed, and doesn't complain when Swiss crowds him closer to the mirror ar his back. Palms planted on the vanity so he can lean in and nose at Rain's temple.

"You assume I want to share," Swiss rumbles, possessive fangs grazing Rain's jaw. It gives him the shivers in the best way, but Swiss doesn't push further. He steps back so Rain can see the sparkle in his golden eyes, the wrinkles at their corners. He's beautiful, and if Rain were in a more giving mood he'd say so. As it stands...

"You can cope," he mumbles, nose in the air, and earns another eye roll. Rain sticks his tongue out at the other ghoul just because he can, reaching for his comb to try and work out some of the knots Swiss gifted him last night. Before he can grab it, though-

"Ah," Swiss interrupts, batting at Rain's hand. Rain raises a brow as Swiss picks up the comb instead, moving to stand in front of him again. "You're playing princess this morning, remember?" He twirls the comb between two fingers, the same motion he does when he steals Mountain's sticks. "Lemme take care of you like one."

Swiss offers a roguish wink, and while some part of Rain knows that an offer like this - especially from Swiss - always comes with caveats, he can't find it in himself to argue. Blame it on sleep deprivation (nine hours isn't nearly enough), but all he can do is hum and nod.

"If you insist," he yawns, leaning forward to rest his cheek gainst Swiss' pecs, "but don't be surprised if you put me back to sleep."

Swiss' laugh resonates through his skull, dull claws scratch at his scalp, and the purr that kicks up in Rain's chest when he begins to comb is one he has no control over.

Swiss talks to him while he works, picking out every tangle he can find. Talks about everything and nothing, from the places they'll be playing this next tour, to the fitting for their new uniforms. Rain hums where appropriate, but mostly he drifts. Basks in the scratch of Swiss' chest hair against his cheek and the care with which he fixes his hair. It can't take more than a few minutes, but it feels like forever in the best way.

"Alright," Swiss eventually murmurs, stroking delicate fingers through Rain's knot-free waves. A delightful feeling that could put Rain back to sleep all on its own. "Ready for the bath, your highness?"

Rain huffs out a soft laugh, nips at his chest just hard enough to make Swiss jump. He's woozy when he sits up, half present and more than a little floaty, so relaxed he may yet melt into the sink beside him. He yawns again, smacks his lips while Swiss twirls a curl around his finger.

"Mm," Rain hums with a bleary blink. He reaches up to sling both arms around Swiss' neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss. "Almost," he sighs against Swiss' mouth. The other ghoul pulls back, gives him a quizzical look. "Gotta pee first," Rain elaborates, shooing Swiss away. "C'mon, lemme up."

"Nah," Swiss replies, waving a hand, and it takes Rain a second to register it. He grins again, happy as a clam, and then he's hoisting Rain up by the backs of his thighs and all Rain can do is scrabble at his back with a yelp, clinging.

"What the -"

Before he can get the words out, Swiss is setting him down again, right in front of the toilet. Lets Rain get his feet under him, holding his hips until he's balanced, and then he's pressing a quick kiss to his horn. Rain blinks up at him, opens his mouth to speak, but then Swiss is turning him on the spot. Snuggling himself right up to Rain's back and hooking his chin over his shoulder, dragging the tip of his nose along the shell of his ear.

"As you wish," he croons, low, and Rain chuckles. Leans back into that broad chest and moves to aim at the bowl, eager to empty himself so he can finally slide into the herbal soup Swiss has so lovingly prepared.

Swiss grabs his wrist before he can manage it, though, and Rain just stares at it. Blinks. Swiss lifts his hand to his lips, kisses Rain's palm.

"Uh-uh," he breathes, warm against his skin, "I told you, sweetheart," another kiss, to the inside of Rain's wrist, "lemme take care of you."

Rain shivers at the feel of a large hand coming to rest low on his stomach, the one holding his wrist guiding in to rest over Swiss' own hand. Rain stares down at them, laces his fingers with Swiss', and heaves a deep sigh when Swiss' other hand slides over his hip. Tracing the line of his happy trail with two fingertips, until he reaches the soft swell of Rain's cock.

Swiss takes it in hand, aims, and Rain feels the strangest bloom of warmth in his chest.

"Go on," Swiss encourages, kissing the hinge of his jaw, "when you're done I'll even scrub your back."

"You'd do that anyway," Rain replies, and Swiss gives him a half shrug.

"A little incentive never hurts."

Rain snorts, but doesn't feel the need to argue. He takes in the way his cock looks in Swiss' hand, pale against his skin, nothing sexual about it regardless of their position. Of the way he can feel every inch of Swiss against his back, warm and comfortable and familiar. It's intimate, to be sure, but in a context Rain isn't sure he's ever felt before.

Rain offers a pleased sigh when the last drops hit the water, lets Swiss give it a couple shakes, and then he's turning in his arms. Planting a kiss on his stubbled chin.

He gives Swiss' hand a squeeze, presses it into his belly, and both of them groan when the first few dribbles leak out. It's no time before Rain can let go fully, a steady stream of relief, silly giggles escaping him when Swiss moves his dick around to draw shapes in the water. Swirls and circles and a their initials, because Swiss doesn't know how not to be a sap.

"Better?"

"Better," Rain smiles, wrapping long arms around Swiss' waist. "Now get me in that tub, I'm sick of being sticky."

Swiss laughs, gives him a squeeze, and this time Rain's expecting to be lifted.

"Such a princess," Swiss complains, lowering him into the steaming bath, and Rain groans. Swiss ruffles his hair, wasting no time in sliding into the tub behind him.

"Guess that makes you my prince," Rain mumbles, resting back against him the moment Swiss settles, and the pleased purr that rattles through his chest is almost enough to turn it into a jacuzzi.

[dreamscapesofimagination]

I'll Say I Was Overthinking

A/N: Part 2 of the Alan drabble!

Summary: Being involved with anomalies was not conducive to peaceful dates, a fact that Alan laments when you are injured on his watch.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, cursing, body horror, fluff, Alan beating himself up as usual, kiss to shut someone up.

—------------

It had taken a couple weeks to get the R&R permit approved- and Alan had insisted that your first date not be on campus.

Maybe he was going overboard, but dinner and a movie off campus (and therefore away from a certain meddlesome vice-captain) was a must.

You weren’t complaining.

He had picked you up from your dorm, and you had nearly tripped over your feet at the sight of him in a nice button up and slacks- two things you were not sure he even owned (he didn’t- Tohma had insisted upon providing clothes once Kurosagi has let the date slip.)

He had complimented you, cheeks pink as he scratched the back of his neck.

Your dress was simple, nothing over the top, but you loved its fit and from his expression you could tell Alan had too.

Dinner had gone well, Alan slowly becoming more comfortable as the night went on- and you’d be lying if you said his smile didn’t make your heart flutter.

That's what crossed your mind when you both had rounded a corner, only to be faced with this.

Mottled flesh, an entirely too human face- too many teeth and a too wide smile.

You froze- heart pounding. You had ended up ahead of Alan as you chattered away about your excitement for the movie he had planned.

Far enough ahead that he was helpless as the anomaly smacked you aside.

“No!” his shout was futile as he watched your body hit the alley wall and crumple.

You lay there wheezing, brain slowly processing the scene.

Snippets.

Alan’s pipe appearing in his hand.

The anomaly making its way toward you.

Alan launching in front of you, blocking your body.

A horrible, mocking laugh.

Your vision swam, and as shock wore off you began to feel the deep pain in your body from where you had hit the wall, and you were faintly aware of the taste of blood and bile in your throat.

Alan was fighting it- but seemed to be doing little damage.

Groaning, you staggered to your feet, leaning over as you emptied the contents of your stomach.

Lurching forward, you gripped Alan's arm.

His eyes shot to you, “what are you doing?”

“Your stigma-” you coughed, wincing as a bolt of pain lanced your head, -”use it”

His eyes glanced over you, frowning in concern at your state.

“You can hardly stand!”

“And if I don’t help you we are both going to die! Stop arguing with me and just hit the fucking thing!” you snapped, gripping his arm harder to stabilize yourself.

The laughing anomaly lurched toward you both, interrupting his chance to argue further.

Alan adjusted his grip on the pipe, fixing the anomaly with a harsh glare.

He raised the pipe, bringing it down as the anomaly lunged, and you watched the creature's head give way beneath the iron.

It fell to the ground, and the resulting tremble caused you to stagger.

Alan caught you, shouting your name as your vision faded.

~~~•••~~~•••~~~

Quiet voices were the first thing you registered- along with the sterile smell.

Mortkranken’s infirmary.

“Like I said, you need to let someone examine you. She is stable- the last thing she needs right now is you collapsing because you had an injury and didn’t let us treat you. Taking more attention off of her than is necessary would be foolish, Mido.”

“I’m fine, regardless, I’m a ghoul. If something was wrong it’d be pretty damn clear.”

You cracked your eyes, wincing at the glare.

Alan swam into focus, glaring at Jiro, whose face was impassive.

Jiro’s arms were crossed, and the bags under his eyes were more defined than normal.

“Ghouls can still die, Mido.” Jiro left with that scathing retort before his eyes landed on you.

“You’re awake.” Alan’s head snapped around, and he quickly rushed forward.

“You okay?” his eyes were wild with concern.

You cracked a small smile, “I’ve been better.”

“Ah-hem.” You looked past Alan, and met Jiro’s gaze.

“Please let Jiro look you over?” you asked, bringing a hand up to grasp Alan’s for a moment.

His cheeks flushed at the contact.

“Can I do my job?” You giggled at Jiro’s mildly irritated tone.

“Go. I’ll be okay.”

Alan hesitated for a moment before nodding.

Jiro led him out from the curtained off “room” you were in.

You laid there, taking in the sounds of machines and the smell of alcohol.

You shifted, sitting up with a groan as you searched for water, throat scratchy.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Alan sounded panicked when he came back in to see you moving.

“I need some water.” you said, voice hoarse.

“I brought some,” Jiro entered behind Alan, carrying a cup.

He handed it to you, all but rolling his eyes at the Vagastrom captain.

“Your boyfriend is fine, from what the very limited exam he let me do showed.”

You could practically hear the eye roll in his voice.

“Is she going to be fine?” Alan snapped.

You sipped your water, relishing how soothing it was.

Jiro fixed Alan with a tired glare before directing his statement toward you, “You have a broken rib, concussion, and some nasty contusions, and hitting the wall dislocated your shoulder. I got the shoulder back in place, and your chest is wrapped to prevent your rib from moving too much. It will be awhile before you can function at your full capacity- even with the anomalous medicine we have.”

He cracked a small smile, “if you need anything, just call. You can go back to your dorm as long as you have someone who can keep an eye on you. And I will be coming by in the mornings to check on you.”

“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” Alan said quickly, carefully grasping your hand.

Jiro looked at him for a moment before nodding.

Fifteen minutes later, you were slowly staggering back to your dorm.

Alan’s arm was wrapped around you, and a bag of medical supplies was on his shoulder.

Silence passed between you- and you weren’t too disappointed due to the dull throb with every step and breath. You didn’t think you could manage words very well.

At your door, Alan froze.

You looked up at him, seeing the set of his jaw.

“Alan, what’s wrong?”

You watched a muscle feather.

“I shouldn’t be the one doing this.”

You frowned, turning to fully face him.

“What do you mean? If you don’t want to, that's fine, I can call Jiro and go back to the infirmary.”

Shaking his head, Alan said, “it’s my fault you got hurt. If I had been faster, more aware, then you would be okay. I’ll just make things worse.”

He avoided your eyes.

“This was a bad idea, it would be best for you to go to the infirmary so I don’t get you ki-”

A surprised grunt left him as you yanked him down by the collar and pressed your lips to his.

After a moment, the stiffness left Alan’s body, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you like you were porcelain as he finally reciprocated the kiss.

They broke away, and she was sure the flush on Alan’s face matched her own as he blinked owlishly at her.

“What- what was that for?” he stammered.

You giggled at his shell-shocked expression.

“Alan, I kissed you because I like you,” you cradled his cheek with your good hand, “I would not kiss you if I thought you got me hurt. Now will you please accept that it's not your fault so we can go inside and shower?”

His eyes widened even farther, “Like?”

You tilted your head before realizing what he meant.

“No! Not together- as incredibly attractive as I find you I think sex would kill me right now,” Alan stood straight, face and neck bright red.

Laughing, you said, “I will probably need your help though- if that’s okay?”

Alan cleared his throat, “I said I would take care of you, and I will.”

You blinked at the seriousness in his voice.

Alan was nothing if not committed, and you knew that if he was around you would be taken care of.

[cissa-calls]

Countdown to Coven of Chaos: Day 586

Wanda: “Where’s Agatha? She said we would watch a scary movie to celebrate Friday the 13th”

Y/N: “Maybe she got caught up with a ghost! Or a ghoul? Or a banshee shrieking about tragedy soon to come?! IS IT HER MOTHER???”

Wanda: “Sweetie, I think you’re getting too wrapped up in the spirit of the night. She’s probably just-“

Agatha, leaping from the shadows: “-LAMENTING EVANORA’S REVENGE”

Wanda and Y/N: *shrieking in terror*

Agatha: “Oooo did I scare ya?? I must have gotten you GOOD”

Wanda: “Agatha?! Why-“

Y/N: “-let me handle this one Wands.” *walks up to Agatha and leans in real close* “if you step outta line one more time Harkness, I will scratch your Stevie Nicks vinyl”

Agatha: “NO”