#mountain x cowbell

[miasmaghoul]

do you have any thoughts about mountains first time? doesnt have to be a whole ass prompt fill lol but who gets big boy?

(anon I regret to inform you that you sent this while i was disastrously high so you get a Weird One - warnings for terato/monsterfucking, mentions of blood (nonsexual), inhuman anatomy, scent kink, agendered character referred to as "it", use of cunt/clit to describe its anatomy, and some lore at the end)

I still have to finish that fic about his first time bottoming, that's with Omega. But his first time in general?

Well, technically...

Mountain was more feral than most when he was summoned, took a long time to settle into his vessel. He cost a number of siblings their lives before the higher ups decided it was a better idea to let him loose in a warded-off section of the forest. Let him work out the more animalistic traits in an environment better suited to his elemental nature.

He wanders the trees completely unglamoured, with furry, back-bent hooved legs and patches of moss, lichen and bark coating his limbs and torso. His antlers, still budding, grow faster like this and the trees in his path bear fresh gouges as a result. He hunts everything he can, tearing in with claws and elongated jaws alike. The scruffy mane of hair he sports lies matted with days worth of blood, sweat and grime, and it's the fourth night before Mountain finds his appetite sated.

Well, one of his appetites at least.

This new hunger is similar, but very different. He knows lust, of course - no being in Hell wouldn't - but ghouls don't have corporeal forms Downstairs. They feel things, sure, but in the way you "feel" and intense thought, or a specific fantasy. Like this, though, anchored to a physical being he's still learning the ins and outs of, the pressure sitting heavy between his thighs feels foreign. Foreign, but also hot and urgent and fuck he needs.

Mountain paws at himself with rough, inexperienced hands until the sheath between his legs starts to swell. The ghoul watches as it grows, chest heaving when the flared head reveals itself. Already slick and throbbing, Mountain's stomach clenches when every inch is finally exposed and the length of it pulses.

It's then that a certain scent makes his nostrils flare, his eyes go wide, and something deep inside Mountain goes achingly tight. It's not the first time he's smelled it since he woke in the forest, naked and groggy, but it's the first time he's felt the urge to find its source. Now that he does, though?

He needs.

Mountain crashes through the trees on instinct alone, panting and drooling down his chin no matter how many times his hooves catch a root or a row of thorns tears at his flesh. The scent grows thicker the deeper he gets into the dense wood; it's something raw, something syrupy sweet yet intoxicatingly bitter. Like burning leaves on a hot autumn day, rich and earthen but undercut with a sharpness that could only mean desire.

The closer he gets, the more he recalls smelling it before. He remembers catching it when he was savoring the spoils of a hunt, one he'd spent melting into the trees to stalk a particularly jumpy buck. Remembers waking up once, in a small clearing he'd thoroughly marked, only to find a second scent joining his own. Not covering his, not a challenge - though Mountain took great pleasure in...reclaiming his territory anyway. More like an invitation, one Mountain had had no interest in following at the time. That wasn't what he had needed.

Now that he's close to drowning in that scent, though, his cock dripping as it wags between his thighs, Mountain has no idea how he's gone so long without it.

He crashes through the branches of an overgrown willow, blood pounding in his ears and groin in equal measure, and the shiver that wracks him is one shared with the source of this intoxicating scent.

It sits in a nest at the base of the willow, one tucked into its roots and flanked by flowering bushes. There are enough gaps in the tree's limbs to let patches of sunlight filter through, dappling the creature before him.

The one currently on all fours, presenting its flushed, swollen cunt and staring over its shoulder and directly into the center of his brain.

It must be another ghoul, something distant tells him. He only has flashes of the time before the forest, but he can faintly recall a pair of...humans, were they called? They shifted before his eyes, one into a being of black fur and unnatural smoke and the other into scales and fins. They spoke the language of the Pit, and that's the only reason Mountain remembers them.

This one, this creature, looks similar to him, he thinks. He only has a few interrupted reflections in brooks and streams to go by, but it's legs are like his. Back-bent, hooved, but the hair coating them is jet black instead of his own sun-stained auburn. Their torsos differ too - where Mountain could blend in with the bark of any tree, it is instead coated in a combination of thicker fur and sleek black feathers that rustle like the leaves above. No antlers atop it's head, but instead a pair of segmented horns that curl against its skull. It's smaller than he is, more angular, and the few facial features Mountain can see are just as sharp as the talons it has dug into the soft earth.

It makes a sound then, a rattling hiss of a thing, and Mountain growls in response. It's automatic, as is the way he drops to all fours for his final approach. It watches his every move, unnatural eyes wide and growing blacker by the second, and Mountain flinches when it tips it's head and a scratchy voice fills his skull.

New, it rasps in a familiar but broken dialect, forked tongue flicking between it's lips. Maybe a ghoul? It's speech is odd. You're new. New smell. Different.

Mountain watches it's cunt pulse, a thick trail of slick dripping from its hole straight down the fat nub of its clit. That shiny length flexes, and Mountain's cock responds in kind. He snarls as he crawls up to the creature, licking his jaws. That incredible scent, so thick he can taste it, would be enough to drive anyone mad.

Could feel you coming. Could...in the roots and stones...

Mountain barely registers the words floating through his head, but he really likes the way they fade into an audible sharp trill when he buries his nose into the source of his torment.

The taste of it is beyond compare, and Mountain can't help but drag his face through its copious slick while he wriggles his long, thick tongue inside. Desperate to coat himself in it, ears filled with the unearthly sounds of the creature offering itself to him on a silver platter. His hips work in useless, uncoordinated humps, cock jabbing at thin air as that tight hole clamps down around his tongue, and the overwhelming desire he feels to be inside the being before him hits him like a punch to the gut.

You....watching me...

Mountain manages the message as he moves to bracket that smaller figure. It nods, shudders when he settles against its back, snuffling at the crook of its neck. Using his snout to nudge its head, force it to expose its throat so he can feel it thrum under his tongue.

Watched...hunt. Watched me...kill...

It gives a chirrup, and Mountain feels its short, raised tail twitching against his stomach. His cock jumps, the broad head smacking against its clit, and Mountain's growl shakes the earth itself. Those same stupid humps take over, and Mountain stretches his jaws to wrap around the back of its neck to force it still. He uses the last of his brainpower to throw a final thought into its mind.

Why...bring me...to you?

Mountain sinks his fangs into its throat just enough to get a taste of what lives beneath its skin, and as his eyes roll back the creature moans.

Different, it whispers back, canting its hips when Mountain mindlessly tries to line himself up. So long...since something was different...

Mountain's grunting like a disobedient dog, every thrust bumping his cock against its thighs, its tail, it's mound. So focused on getting it inside without releasing the creature from the cage of his limbs that the frustration only builds, his snarls becoming more and more bestial until -

The body beneath him arches as best it can, and as Mountain's aching cock finally squeezes between swollen lips to pop inside there's no way to know which of them is louder.

Mountain doesn't remember much after that.

One day, though, he'll learn the story of the feral ghoul who haunts these woods. The product of a botched summoning, it was always destined to become a creature of instanct. Tied to the realm Above only because its summoner still lives, left to its own devices where it won't pose a threat.

One day Mountain will learn the story of what used to be Cowbell, and when he does nothing will keep him from going back to those woods.

[emeritus-fuckers]

Hewlloww could you do the “a kink for every Papa” just with the ghouls? So a “kink for every ghoul?”

Have an amazing day you sweet human being. The papas love you <4

Decided to combine these two asks to make it easier on us because there's like thirty ghouls and we'd die if we tried this separately. there's a lot of color because i'm autistic and i deserve to color the post, that's a whole 30 ghouls. - rat

A kink for every Ghoul

CW: CNC for Chain.

Fire Ghouls

Alpha (he/him)

Alpha may not seem like it, but the threat of a knife in bed turns him on. The Fire Ghoul will fight you a bit, but just give in once he feels the bite of the blade in his skin. If you don’t slice him up like swiss cheese he won’t be happy.

Ifrit (he/him)

Ifrit has beautiful tits. Seriously, he’s about to bust out of that uniform of his. Because of those large tits... he is extremely fond of getting on his knees and letting someone fuck them. He loves fucking a nice pair of tits, sure…but it hits different when he’s the one covered in cum.

Sodo (he/him)

Sodo is a big enthusiast of making you bleed. It doesn't matter if it's with his teeth or claws. Obsessively eating you out on your period is also fair game. Just about anything that has to do with blood.

Blaze (he/him; Papa Nihil's Ghoul)

His name didn't come from nowhere. Blaze is a big fan of weed. And other drugs. Of course his favorite kind of sex is high sex. But, if you've got any aphrodisiac on hand, he's not gonna be fussy about that. He'll take it like a good boy.

Water Ghouls

Chain (it/ghoul)

Just by looking at it, you can tell that Chain is the kind of ghoul that loves CNC. Ghoul loves being the victim of it, or doing it to someone else. It prefers doing it to someone, though... It loves chasing you through the woods. Smelling your fear and excitement. Shoves you down and uses you as much as ghoul pleases.

Lake (he/him)

Lake might not seem like it at first, but he's actually surprisingly fond of making you squirm in pain. Biting, scratching, some light choking or using toys that will hurt you so good... Yup, you guessed it. Lake is a sadist. And a proud one, at that.

River (they/them)

They’re a whore. Plain and simple. Plenty of dirty dreams in that head of theirs... though they love when those dreams are made worse by someone fucking them in their sleep. Consensually, of course... enthusiastic consent, really. They return the favor as well... watching their partner wake up screaming in pleasure is always fun.

Cowbell (they/it)

They love seeing you in a blindfold. And other forms of sensory depravation, of course, but its favorite is taking your sight. They love watching you tremble and jump whenever it does anything. They loves seeing you squirm from the softest touches. After all, when you can't see, everything else is so much stronger.

Mist (he/she)

Tentacles, plain and simple. Fucking Mist is straight up monsterfucking, since he has tentacles coming out of her cunt. Wanna be egged with those tentacles of hers? All you have to do is ask and he'll stuff you full. Sleeping with Mist is an experience in itself. A rollercoaster of an experience, actually.

Rain (she/he/ve)

She's a very soft person in bed. He can get mean, yes, but ver preference is soft and loving. So soft and so loving, actually, that he wants you to cry from it. There's something so pretty in your tears that she can't resist overstimulating you just a little bit to see those tears again. Rain is definitely a dacryphiliac, though ve'll never admit it.

Storm (they/he; Papa Nihil's Ghoul)

Storm is generally very calm. That is, until they're in pain. Then he turns into a whimpering mess, begging for more, like a whore. C'mon. You know you wanna hurt them a little, don't you? Treat this masochistic slut the way he needs to be treated.

Earth Ghouls

Cliff (they/he)

Cliff is a very relaxed, pleasant dude. You'd think he'd be a nice, soft partner in bed, too, but in reality... They love having you tied up. Or cuffed, preferably. Just for a little, so he can rail you stupid enough to not be able to move in general. And then they take care of you, like the loving boyfriend that he is.

Pebble (he/him)

He doesn't really get bothered by his height, especially since it makes bottoming easier and Pebble is an absolute bottom. A cute one. He loves it when his partner (especially if it's the love of his life!) takes care of him. Certified pillow prince.

Ivy (he/xe)

Xe is likely the biggest fan of edging in the world. It's almost a necessity at this point. If it's a cock ring or just shoving him down and sucking him off until xe's whimpering so beautifully. Over and over. And over. Until those pretty eyes are overflowing with tears and just can't anymore.

Mountain (he/him)

Oh, such a innocent little lamb, isn't he? He just loves to be coaxed and taken by someone oh, so dangerous... loves to be corrupted. To be ruined. In both ways. He is the biggest squirmer. Will not stop moving until he's just too fucked out and too filthy. Ruin him and make this little lamb dirty.

Quake (they/them; Papa Nihil's Ghoul)

Quake is a very goofy, cheerful and energetic person, who very often just can't stay in one place for too long. That is, of course, unless you're on their lap, keeping their cock inside you. Then they just melt completely and stay put until you decide it's over. They will beg for just a few more minutes, though.

Air Ghouls

Eurus (they/she)

We all know she likes to stare. We've seen them in Year Zero and the studio recordings. Eurus loves to watch and stare. So of course, if you want to fuck someone else (which she's never opposed to, of course!), they'll request to watch. Won't even blink. She wants to see everything you do. Might jerk off in her seat as they observe their pretty darling railing someone else... or getting railed, preferably.

Zephyr (they/he)

Zephyr is possessive. Not just a little. They claim it’s instinct. However, nothing gets them riled up more than seeing the marks he left on your skin from your passionate late night sex. Though they get even more insistent on marking if someone else left their marks behind. Just as a reminder who you really belong to... and those bruises and bitemarks look so good on his lover.

Cirrus (she/ze)

Ze's a big enthusiast of using both her dick and her cunt (as well as mouth and those really well trained fingers) just to make you completely stupid. No matter what genitals you have, she'll fuck you brainless. And then ze's gonna coo at you, fawning over how cute you are when you're such a blabbering mess like that, and all of it just for her! Cirrus absolutely adores having you overstimulated.

Cumulus (she/her)

We all (well me) love her chest. So it's a very pleasant surprise to find out that they lactate with just a smallest bit of stimulation. If you really wanna drive her crazy, have your fingers or a strap inside her as you suck on her tits. Bonus points if you team up with Cirrus and then take care of our dearest Cumulus.

Tornado (ze/zir; Papa Nihil's Ghoul)

We can't talk about Air Ghouls and not have at least one of them mess around with your breathing abilities, now can we? Fortunately for us, Tornado loves breath play. Sometimes it's just a light squeeze. Sometimes you almost think this maniac will actually suffocate you. Ze knows your limits, though, so it never gets out of control. The thrill is a very nice bonus to fucking zir, though.

Quintessence Ghouls

Omega (he/him)

Look at him. Look at this huge motherfucker. Pretty much anyone is tiny compared to him. And he loves that. He loves seeing your stomach bulge when you're full of him. He loves seeing how you struggle to take as much of him as you can. He loves how your face ends up stuffed in his chest as you straddle him because of his stupid huge cock. The size kink is strong with this one.

Delta (they/it)

Delta admittedly jokes about their missing limbs. One of said jokes was how easy it’d be to tie it up... the day it goes from joke to reality? Oh they’re on cloud nine. Turns out it was very into doing shibari on others before the limb loss... turning the tables on them? Well... it has a very pleasant night tied up all pretty with nowhere to go.

Aether (he/him)

Listen. I've always said he's got arms made for hugging, hands made for choking and a cock made for warming. I stand by that. His hands look and feel like they were meant for your throat. And you love it. It's best while he's got you in a reverse cowgirl position in front of a mirror, riding yourself stupid as he lightly squeezes your throat. But he's not picky. As long as you let him choke you a little.

Phantom (he/they/xey/it)

Spiritually, Phantom is a bit like a puppy when it comes to excitement. He gets really excited and it shows. They usually show it through playful nibbles. But... you wanna know what absolutely makes xem lose its mind? Praise. Phantom can die happily after being praised for how good he's doing for you. Praise them and it'll do absolutely everything for you. Xey can probably be praised into a happy, tearful orgasm like this.

Chaos (he/she/they/it; Papa Nihil's Ghoul)

If you've read the Papa Nihil's Ghouls post, you know she was dragged around on a leash a few times. The issue is, he actually loved that and now they demand to be kept on a leash... So yup, that evolved into a pet play kink. It will bark at you completely unprovoked for completely no reason and will continue being a menace until you handle it. So there's a pet play and brat taming combo here.

Multi Ghoul

Swiss (he/xey/it)

This bitch. Bully it. Swiss loves being bullied and degraded. It always makes both xeir cunt and cock drip with pre-cum. Keep him on his knees. Keep xem on a leash. Mock it for being so fucking eager to be pretty much verbally abused. You can probably get xem to cum untouched if you're mean enough.

Phil (he/him)

Phil is not a kinky guy, honestly. He's just... very vanilla. If you're with him long enough, you finally get to hear him mumble out the word mommy... And you absolutely fucking lose it with him. You don't let him live it down, obviously. He gets absolutely flustered every time you use his mommy kink against him.

Sunshine (she/her)

Sunshine's favorite thing about having a penis is having it buried inside their partner (she especially likes people with cunts since it shows really nicely), having them in her lap in a reverse cowgirl position and just... watching it all in the mirror in front of you both. Obligatory bites while she's at it, of course.

Aurora (she/they/fae)

While she doesn't mind being a pillow princess when bottoming, faer absolutely favorite thing is disinterest. She loves playing with your body and then scoffing and telling you to keep quiet. They absolutely love having you ride their thigh or rutting against it while she does other things. Fae just absolutely adores when you get whiney and start pleading for just a bit of her attention, even if you know they'll shame and degrade you for it.

~

Alpha, Ifrit, River, Zephyr and Delta written by Death.

Sodo, Blaze, Lake, Rain, Mist, Storm, Cliff, Pebble, Quake, Eurus, Cirrus, Cumulus, Tornado, Omega, Aether, Chaos, Phantom, Swiss, Sunshine, Phil and Aurora by Nosferatu.

Chain, Cowbell, Ivy and Mountain written by Zenith/Jasper.

Edited by Nosferatu.

Taglist: @charlie-is-a-menace @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @randodummy @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @randominstake @callmeicaro @thecuriouss @dio-niisio @the-fem1n1ne-urge @mybotanicaldemise @igodownjustlikeholymary @natoncesaid @bloodmoon-bites @plaquerat

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

The way I cant explain it, but Cowbell and Mountain give me familial vibes? They are definitely related in some way.

They both strike me as the Ministry's very large, lanky, soft spoken ghouls. Yet they are the resident Eldrich horror forest creatures who bring their mate dead animals as presents.

I just have many thoughts and feelings about them

[ramblingoak]

A Sweater For His Siren

~ Tales From Lucifer's Hollow ~

Mountain x Rain ~ Just another lil snippet from my upcoming story A Petal For Your Thoughts. The fic is part of an au series that takes place in the small town of Lucifer's Hollow.

Previous snippets: here, here, here and here

Warnings: lots and lots of fluff, sfw, enjoy!

As Rain soon finds out, Mountain knits most of his sweaters as well as the blankets he has around his house.

It was something he learned as a kit, bored during the winter with not much to do. His mother had taken him to the local craft store and while wandering around he became infatuated with all the varieties and colors of yarn available. The owner, a woman everyone in Lucifer's Hollow called 'Grandma Goore', had noticed his interest and offered to teach him. From then on he spent many of his afternoons after school diligently creating anything and everything Grandma Goore taught him.

After Rain had swiped a few of his sweaters Mountain decided it would be best to stock up on yarn and make some new ones. Maybe a few specifically for his water ghoul in the hopes that his own would stay safely in his dresser. So with Rain's hand firmly in his they made the trek down Main Street. Passed Omega's vet clinic, Paws and Claws, and Cowbell's record store, Second Pressing. It was tempting to stop in Sweets and Treats, Phantom's bakery, but when Mountain glanced inside he saw Swiss leaning against the counter and he decided it was best not to interrupt the 'master at work'.

Swiss's words, not his.

When they reached their destination Mountain paused, tugging Rain close against his side while he stared up at the store's sign. Grandma Goore had sadly passed away a few years prior but the store was still there, now run by her grandson, Mary. Not much had changed besides the name. The same items were in stock although now there was a dedicated section year round to Halloween. Mary even continued the classes his grandma always taught, having been taught by her just like Mountain was.

"GraveYarns?" Rain's voice shook him out of his thoughts. When Mountain turned to look at him Rain had one delicate dark blue eyebrow quirked up. "Kind of an odd name for a craft store."

"It'll make sense when you meet the owner." Mountain squeezed his hand and led him towards the door. "Come on little siren, let's get you some yarn."

Other snippets from Tales From Lucifer's Hollow: Mr. November (copia x aether) snippets so far: here and here Sweets and Treats (swiss x phantom/aeon) snippets so far: here and here

I've decided not to use my tag list for these lil snippets but if you'd like to be added to the one I'll use for this series or any of my other fics pls leave a comment! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

[one-boring-person]

Requests are back!

My current obsession is Ghost and so I've decided to write a few fics over the course of the next few weeks, to help get me back into the swing of things writing-wise. I'm clearing out my inbox so I can have a fresh start and all those who want to are welcome to request!

HOWEVER there are rules for these requests 😅

Rules:

You may only request a character from the below list (at the moment, this is only Ghost-related characters).

You must pick a prompt from the list below, but you may add any details that you want included. You may also pick more than one prompt per request.

NSFW is allowed, but please do specify that you want it or not.

You may request character x character (x character) or character x reader (x character), or just the character by themself. (Basically, you're allowed more than one or two characters if you want😅)

Characters:

Dewdrop/Sodo

Swiss

Rain

Mountain

Phantom

Cirrus

Cumulus

Aurora

Ifrit

Cowbell

Terzo

Copia (Cardinal or Papa)

Prompts:

I'm using both Christmas and Winter related prompts to get a bit festive, but those who don't celebrate Christmas are welcome to request just using winter related prompts and I'll omit the Christmas theme☺️

Christmas:

Strings of fairy lights

Baking gingerbread people

Building a gingerbread house

Putting up decorations

Advent calendars

Christmas jumpers

Mistletoe

Christmas Dinner

Mulled wine

Christmas cards

Krampus

Gifts

Christmas movies

Christmas lights

Christmas markets

Santa

Secret Santa

Christmas songs

Candy canes

Christmas party

Winter: (These should be listed 21-37)

Snow storm

Ice skating

Sledding

Snowy walks

Warming in front of a fire

Building snowpeople

Snowball fights

Borrowing gloves/coats/hats

Snow angels

First time seeing snow

Sleigh rides

Hot chocolates

Cars getting stuck in the snow

Slipping on ice

Stealing hoodies

Log cabins

Frozen lakes

(You can, of course, use prompts from both lists combined 😅)

[sovaghoul]

Sova Elyzabeth Quintesse

Lvl 42, she/her, mom of 2 humans and 2 cats. Transplant from the Midwest to the Rockies. New Fool™️.

💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

@goore-ghoul's graveyard rose 🪦🥀 Morticia to his Gomez

💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

⚠️ Often there is NSFW content here. Minors please DNI 🔞

TERFS, SWERFS, AND RADFEMS ARE NOT WELCOME HERE

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

⚧️ If you're Queer and your family is shit, I'm your mom now ⚧️

🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈

The band Ghost is my personality, religion, gender, sexuality, special interest, hyperfixation, and the Secret Third Autistic Thing:

In a 🎶Ghost🎶town in despair

💀Terzhoe & Ghoul Lover.

Fave Ghouls in no particular order: 🔥Dew, 💧Rain, ✨️Aether, 🪦Ifrit, 🦇Phantom, ♎Omega, 💨Zephyr, 🐐Pebble, 🌿Ivy, 🧿Delta, ⛓️Chain, and 🔔Cowbell.

Sentry Ghoul OCs shared with @the-moon-in-the-gutter :

Tellus - Earth/Air/Quint Multi, ritual representative of Earth/North

Psyche - Air/Quint/Earth Multi, ritual representative of Air/East

Venus - Quint/Air/Earth Multi, ritual representative of Fire/South

Pyxis - Quint/Earth/Air Multi, ritual representative of Water/West

⛧ Masterpost of my other OCs ⛧

Fave ships/ships I write/brainrot: Omega3/Terzomega, Zephrit, Rainfrit, Raindrop, Raither, Aethraindrop (The Unholy Trinity), Swisstom, Soilmates (Mountain x Pebble), Claymates (Chain x Ivy), Double-D (Delta x Brother Damien OC), Airhorn (Air x Cowbell), Mist x Psyche (Mindstorm), Sunshine x Venus (Morning Glory), and Stardust (Aether x Tellus).

If you're in search of my Elemental or Primordial Ghoul hcs (aka The Coven Ghost), look no further.

Eldritch Era 0 Ghouls ⛧ Ghoul Flowers

Ghost logo Pride graphics ⛧ Transparent

Self-ship blog: @sovas-ghouls. See that pinned post for info/warnings.

I also reblog unmasked ghoul content. They will be tagged either "unmasked ghoul," "unmasked ghouls," or "unmasked ghoul mention" if there are no images but just their names in text.

Other basic facts:

-I'm a Theistic Pagan Witch, predominantly Wiccan, but also Sorgae ☽⛤☾ ♏️☀️♈️🌔♒️↑

-Self dx'd with The 'Tism ♾️🌈🔴

-Love all things Autumn, Spooky, Dark Cottagecore, Gothic Steampunk 🍂🍁🍄🎃

-Gender: Afab Salmacian Deogender

💙🩵💜💛💚 💜🩷🩵🩷💜

-Sexuality: ABCD Omnisexual

🩷❤️🖤💜💙

-Politically/socially Liberal af

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🤎✊️💚♀️🖐🩸🌻🍉

[the-coconut-asado]

THE SPIRIT OF SWISSMASS

My daughter likes her Christmases to be cold-climate Christmassey. Which is unfortunate as most of our festive seasons in recent years have been spent near the equator. 

Between my family in Buenos Aires and Adam’s in Fiji the spruces always have to be plastic and the fans on full blast. One memorable Christmas Day in BA we ate our cold cuts buffet-style standing in my cousin’s swimming pool to counter the 38C heatwave; and on one Christmas Evening in Suva we dived into Star Wars: The Force Awakens in a packed Damodar Centre, motivated not by MIllenium Falcons but the cinema’s industrial-strength aircon.

However, every few years we swap our snorkels for snow boots and head for Switzerland. My cousin Dorothy, in a singular diaspora phenomenon, is one of several Latina women who have married Swiss men and live in or around St Gallen, about an hour east of Zurich. 

It’s fair to say that Doro has sought out every other living Argentine, Guatemalan and Spanish national within a 10 mile radius and made friends with them. And what about Swiss friends? A cultural aversion to spontaneity makes that difficult (though not impossible). Doro has been known to scare the bejeezus out of other mums that she has tried to drop in on when in their neighbourhood. Pretty common practice in BA but the Swiss, it seems, like to keep things formal.

St Gallen is  a chocolate-box-meets-cheese-board town nestling in the mountains; Heidiville complete with the sound of distant cowbells and a speculaas-heady aroma billowing from the Christmas market. The cobble-stoned Cathedral square hosts what I would wager is a bigger festive tree than the one outside 30 Rock in New York, and on Christmas Eve the whole town gathers around it for the serious - and it is serious -  business for carol singing. You can’t get more Christmassey than this.

Actually, to say Doro married a Swiss guy is only half true. Alejandro’s other half belongs squarely in Barcelona, so there is a proper cultural mix around their table on Christmas Eve: Alejandro’s twin sister Patricia from Barcelona, his brother Nico (feet squarely rooted in St Gallen, who talks of a trip to London as a Tripitaka-like quest he will one day complete) and Nico’s girlfriend Jenny whose father Ruedi owns and runs the Kobelt Brewery in neighbouring Appenzel with his San Franciscan wife Karen. As you can imagine, the cuisine is deliciously eclectic and the noise volume at a pitch only dogs can hear without screaming. 

And the board games, well, they just get plain nasty. 

If Doro loses a few rounds of Texas Dominoes her middle finger stays up for the night. And after losing an intense round of fussball with Ruedi on Christmas Day at the Brewery, Patricia was heard to mutter ‘tosser’ as she left the table (followed by ‘fack you’, which my 12 year old niece earnestly corrected to ‘fuck you’). Screeches of laughter and explosive cussing from breakfast bucks fizz to evensong and pretzels. 

But back to the safer territory of the food, and let’s start with the two things Switzerland has built its reputation on: cheese and chocolate. Just as well as outside of cheese and chocolate - and maybe some meat products - the Swiss don’t do variety. St Gallen supermarkets have isles of few things in many varieties, but like the song says, if a thing’s worth doing it’s worth doing well. Doro occasionally cheats the system by making dashes across the border to Austria to buy Argentine beef. But cheese and chocolate are always no more than an arm’s reach away. 

Although Appenzeller cheese was my top pick for many years, it’s now been overtaken by Tete de Moine (Monks Head). This is a creamier version of comte, and the paper-thin slicing with a special turntable gadget (which echoes the tonsured head of a medieval monk) is all part of the ritual of eating it. Paired with thin-ish slivers of chorizo, it makes for seductive pre-dinner ‘picos’. Add it to a cheese and potato pie (a perfect accompaniment to a Christmas rib roast if your oven, like Lara’s university one, is too small to roast potatoes at the same time) and you have an unforgettable melting pot of cheesy flavour. 

If you want to really stoke your migraine, then chocolate must follow cheese. There is a chocolate cafe near to that Hagrid-height Christmas Tree I mentioned earlier which does the most heady chocolate hazelnut drinks this side of Hansel & Gretel. And if you haven’t had enough of a fix after that then you can buy cellophane wrapped chocolate shards with nuts, or freeze dried fruit, or chilli...the list is endless. Chocolate sprinkles it’s fairy dust throughout the holiday - from Doro’s Nigella-inspired Chocolate Christmas Cake to the iced, spiced biscuits tempting you from every strategically placed bowl in the house. 

But at our most recent Swissmas, Doro decided to go off-piste and back to her Argentine roots. Dona Julia (who I have mentioned in previous blogs as the Julia Childs of Argentine cooks) has many little gems hidden in the 1950’s austerity of her work. One of them, a light mousse-like confection of cream, Aperol and grapefruit, made its Doro-debut as our Christmas eve dessert. Chilled and on-point boozy, it was the perfect end to the necessarily rich main course. 

So just in time for Christmas, wherever you are, here are three dishes that will give you an Argentine flavour of the Alps: That delectable carb-on-carb cheese and potato pie (a raclette pasty by any other name); a molten ginger-chocolate torte that will make you instinctively pull your furry collar around your ears and nestle in front of the telly; and Doro’s Aperol spritz in a dish, to give you a lighter alternative to figgy pudding. 

All worth dashing through the snow for. 

Cheese and Potato Pie (with or without Tete de Moine)

The Lancashire cheese gives this cozy pie it’s bite, but if you have some  Tete de Moine this will mellow the flavour into a pure cheese dream. If you have any leftovers, mix them into an omelette the next day. Makes a yummy packed lunch.Serves 4

Ingredients

3 large onions

50g salted butter

400g potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced

50g salted butter

200g lancashire cheese, grated

50g Tete de Moine, sorn (or use 50g grated mature cheddar) grated

100ml double cream

2 x pkts ready-rolled shortcrust pastry (or make using your own recipe)

How to Make

Chop the onions finely and add to a frying pan with the butter and 20ml water. 

Cover and simmer for 15-20 mins, then remove the lid, and continue to simmer for about another 20-25 mins until most of the liquid has evaporated. Turn off the heat, season and cool.

Boil some well salted water (consult Samin Nosrat’s Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat if you are feeling faint- hearted), drop in the potatoes and boil for around 5 minutes until cooked but still holding their shape. Drain and leave to cool while you bring your pastry to room temperature. 

Unwrap the first ready rolled pastry sheet and use to line a 20cm pie dish, letting the pastry overhang, then pop it in the freezer. 

Heat the oven to 170C/ Gas 5. 

Gently mix the onions and potatoes in a large bowl together with the grated cheeses and cream (you don’t want the potatoes to break up). Then remove the pie dish from the freezer and empty the filling into it. 

Roll out the second pastry sheet, cut a circle large enough to cover the top of the pie, then do just that: cover the top of the pie, trimming the edges, then crimping them between your thumb and forefinger until you have sealed it. 

Whisk up an egg, then paint it all over the top of the pie. Use any trimmings to cut out leaf shapes, then pop them atop the pie and paint  them with the egg wash  too. 

Bake the pie for around 40 minutes until the top is golden. Let stand for 10 minutes, then serve. 

Ginger and Chocolate Torte

One weekend in New York, I turned up at my friend Lisa’s door with ingredients for this chocolate torte, which I made with her son Jasper before we settled down to watch the Oscars. It’s like a big molten chocolate cup, the centre oozing, the edges moist and cakey. I have since added ginger syrup and crystallised ginger to the mix which give it some seasonal bite. A perfect Chocolate dish for Christmas Day. Serves 6.

Ingredients

200g dark chocolate (70% cocoa)

200g unsalted butter

300g golden caster sugar

6 eggs

100g plain flour

2tbsp. Ginger syrup from a jar of candied ginger

2 pieces candied ginger, chopped up small

To decorate:

Chopped crystallised ginger

50g dark chocolate

How to make

Preheat the oven to 180C (Gas 4). Line a 23cm loose bottomed tart pan with buttered parchment paper. 

Melt the chocolate and butter in a bowl or small saucepan over a saucepan with some gently simmering water. Stir so it is smooth and silky. Cool slightly then add the ginger syrup. 

Beat the eggs and sugar in another large bowl until light and fluffy. Add the chocolate/ butter/ ginger syrup mix with the chopped candied ginger and fold into the egg and sugar mixture. Then fold in the flour. 

Pour the mix into the lined tart tin and bake or 20-25 minutes until the top forms a crisp crust and the inside is the consistency of a chocolate mousse. Leave to cool. 

To decorate, chop the crystallised ginger pieces into small shards and decorate the tart. Melt the remaining chocolate, then pour into a piping bag (or improvise by making a piece of baking parchment into a cone, then snip the end off). Drizzle the chocolate over the surface of the cooled torte. Serve at room temperature or cold. 

Aperol Grapefruit Cups

This manages to be refreshing, decadent and Christmassey all in one. Serves 6. 

Ingredients

5 pink grapefruit

100ml Aperol

100 ml double cream

100ml whipping cream (this gives a lighter finish)

100g caster sugar

Mint leaves to decorate. 

How to make

Squeeze the juice from three of the pink grapefruits (you want 400ml), then add the Aperol. 

Pour the mixture into a shallow rimmed baking sheet and freeze for 3 hours. 

Using an electric whisk, whip both creams with the sugar and chill. Peel the skin off the two remaining grapefruit and cut them into segments (cutting between membranes so you are not left with any tough fibres). 

And now it’s an assembly job: to make the granita, use a fork to break up the grapefruit-Aperol water ice into a granita-like consistency (like shaved ice). 

Spoon alternate layers of granits, pink grapefruit segments and cream, finishing off with a layer of cream. 

Decorate with mint leaves (or as I have done here, dip mint leaves in lightly whisked egg white and caster sugar then chill, to give a frosted effect). Serve immediately.

[donatnetherlystudios]

                     The Downsizing

                   Chapter 1 – Fallout

  The dust and ash had settled, so we collectively thought after the third world war     hope was restoring itself. Families and friends of families ushered out to an atmosphere enshrined in sandy driven air, almost like mist with dirt. Craters lay everywhere from each major explosive that had set off and the radiation was finally dissipating. Mountains and deserts for miles were the only environments that could be seen,

not from war, but for this particular area of the country in general. As for our hope

and faith we relied upon, we couldn’t have been more wrong at the time.

    Previous allies who had long supported Americans such as Russia, China and others had turned against us at turning point in the war. The remaining ones took neutral stances. Anxiousness and fear were overloading them to oppose what had become new superpowers. Our allies in UK, Canada, Australia and Israel were still with us to the end. Sadly, they would suffer the same consequences we did. The only thing that saved us from total destruction was nuclear chaos in every country, no one knew where they came from. Every country was alone now dealing with their own woes. Betrayals came from every spectrum, but none as sinister as that of our own. Our own military had dissolved due to casualties from war and the government in place collapsed. When the opportunity arose the remaining officials and military who had planned for takeover assembled. They rose up and formed a dictatorship led government, with the army itself forming into more of a widespread militia. Our country had become what some of us had felt about other nations before it started, third world. Common folk were treated like peasants in medieval times. Labor camps were installed left and right, barricaded, highly fenced, heavily gated and with plenty of militia to keep everything exactly how the government wanted it.

    Militia was dressed in all black with red symbols of a picture of our great country in the center and an X over it to show their anti-American sentiment. Politicians who were actually against the new order had either fled the country or taken up with the new ones to become just as corrupt. Our encampments were called settlements, with tents seen for miles in the distance. “Move along.” says one soldier as they scramble us forward like cattle. Militia quarters mirrored actual building structures made of stone and steel. Laughing, drinking, and all types of rustling sounds could be heard from structures. Frankly, it made me sick. The tents were more quieting since the majority always felt defeated, ashamed or just weary of how things unfolded and how much worse they could actually get.

    My name is Eve, which suits me because I had always wanted the forbidden fruit, so to speak. I was in fact named after Eve from the bible as my mother was of the Christian faith. My father had always been more of a realist though and was an agnostic who believed if there was a God, things wouldn’t have gone down the way they did, with so much suffering. In the long period before the order had come together properly, there was a time of dead silence everywhere. We were alone from other people, but we didn’t care, since we were together as a family.

    A gun goes off in the middle of my daydream and rattles me with me almost jumping in the air. “Shit” – I turn around to catch a glimpse of who was eliminated and realize it was the old man who mentored my father, who had just turned 70. I walked forward while the line and militia were moving the opposite direction to investigate further. “You’re going to get caught” came from a familiar voice. It was Emmy, my best friend in the settlement, possibly my only friend. Heeding her advice, I turn around, met with being struck in the face with the back of a militia hand. “Next time you’ll get the gauntlet” he muttered as he pushed me back in line. The gauntlet was a solo event the militia devised for their evil amusement and found one poor soul being forced to wander across a field while soldiers from all sides took places shooting them. It wouldn’t be merciful and fast because the person in question would be shot in areas less severe and gradually getting worse until they reached close to the end. Most were dead from bleeding out before they got there. Thinking further back I started to remember my father teaching me survival skills from a tender age that involved archery, throwing knives, scavenging and surviving in the wilderness. Guns weren’t permitted for civilians even then, so they were out of the question. He always told me the ammo would run out anyways. A loud noise of a piercing sound mixed with a siren commenced to go off and snapped me out of my daze. I recognized it as the escape siren, this time a group of five attempting blitzing some soldiers and forcing through the gates, only to be put down a few seconds later from gun fire. Any people attempting escape were killed and disposed of in the desert. We all knew when deaths occurred, despite our captors giving us light explanations of the missing. It had become like concentration camps from the second world war, only in the year 2032. All ammunition had begun running extremely low and other resources declined not far behind it.

    Men who were able bodied were put to heavy labor working the fields or in construction. Women were treated as if they worked in sweat shops and treated as objects or toys for the militia to play with. Elderly people and those with major disabilities were terminated quickly to preserve supplies. Pregnancies were forbidden, with any woman and her offspring wiped out shortly after it was known. We’d hear babies cries and painful screams from the women giving birth. Following that was dead silence, which seemed worse than the noise. As we knew what that meant.

“Time is 21:00, all civilians please return to your homes” blurted out over the PA, as people everywhere scrambled away like mice. My face was the shade of the bark on a tree from the mud and debris I had worked with all day. My hair was matted against my head and shoulders from sweat and the color copied the same shade. I was still only 20 years old and small but was lean and agile. My skin was tan from all of the sunlight and even though I was of Indian descent I had always been a lighter skin color than my family. The rebellious side of me was from the Irish in my blood, as well as me holding my liquor whenever we could sneak some from the passed-out soldiers on more idle days.

    Nothing to see in front of me, everything pitch dark. Soldiers had streetlights but they were as good as useless. They would sway back and forth and flicker nonstop against the midnight backdrop. A light came into view from the distance and I could finally tell it was my tent. A candle sat in the doorway with a bell, as I would post it there as my porch light and used a cowbell to pretend as a doorbell. Gradually I winded down for the night plugging my ears with a mix of cloth, leaves and other material worked into a ball with doughy material. As I lay there, I think back to the day my parents were killed. Both had come ill and the moment those bastards found out they were spoon fed a kind of quick acting poison. I was only 16 at the time. My father could sense he was fading from a source other than his illness and was able to tell me bye. My mother never got the chance, she plummeted a mere minute or so after the poisoning. I was handed over more lies of how it happened but had an inside source who told me the real events.

    That evening I lie motionless, with every inch of my body asleep. Clattering noises tap the ground back and forth, nudging me partially awake. Telling myself its due to the wind is what becomes of it. The corner of my eye catches a shadow lingering behind me and showing a silhouette on my tent. My candle makes it like a light show. Finally, I hear obvious footprints in the back, leaving me completely petrified. Unsure how but the shadow seems to fade as fast as it came, and I decide I’ll be alright. “Cling” – My cowbell drops off its foothold and to the ground. The sound shakes me enough to cause me to finally turn around toward the tent flap opening. It is now wide open, even though I safety pin it at lights out. I remain there speechless and dumbfounded, frozen in place. As I turn around a hand is already grabbing me by the arms and forcing me to my cot. Though it’s still dark, I recognize the force to be one of the soldiers clearly drunk. I screamed but it was done in vain, as no reinforcements would come to aid me. The heavy smell of tobacco and alcohol was enough to cause anyone to gag. He grabbed my miniscule wrists using only one hand. Meanwhile he hit me several times with the other to silence me, as by that time I had given up waiting on anyone else. Bloodied and beaten I was severely weakened, but I came from a family of survivors and fighters. His sweat and mine allowed my hands to slip from his grasp, but still on top of me. Using all the weight I could whip around and forward; I landed a few strikes with my fists to which he barely flinched. He smacks me again and my arms flop beside me. As he leans forward, I feel my arm thinking its way over to the side of me. Though dark I can feel the insignia on my Mother’s pen knife lying on the bedside table.

    As fast as he was there, my right arm flew forward and forced the pen knife into his chest. Feeling he would fall over any second and I’d be free were my only thoughts, not thinking about alternative possibilities. Slowly he pulled out the knife, glaring at me with his evil, bloodshot eyes and a smile that showed me just how little effect my short-lived attack had on him. He was simply too strong and overpowering. I was winded and my head lay to the side toward the tent entrance. I concentrate on the candle, attempting to black out what is ahead of me and try and imagine a different place. Although the entire event took only a few minutes, I was raped for what seemed like hours. A tear crawled down my cheek, as my innocence was ended. I’ve never been one to cry, but one could fill a river with the amount occurring at the time. The sheets were painted red from his blood and mine. They were also damp from sweat and tears. The air itself was suffocating because all of the malice around and the fact he smelt like a chimney. Since most of our settlements were in the deserts, he had dry chapped skin. As he rubbed up against me, that dryness could be felt to the left and made even lying beside him more unpleasant than it needed to be. Snoring and sleep grunting seeped from his vocals and I could sense he was passed out. After I had peeked around and confirmed it, I had my eyes set on the way out. I slowly backed away from my side of the bed and dropped to the side, before making my way around the front end and making a break for my front flap entrance.

    Although still shaken and frighten, I manage to stumble through our row of tents trying to seek out a safe place to finish out my night. “Thud” – Falling to the ground out of exhaustion I collapse. Sobbing proceeds to take over as I start to release the cries of anguish I had longed for earlier. The tent flap opens, and a girl approaches I recognize as Emmy, who assists me off the ground and inside, before penning the flap back up and walking me over to the bed to be able to sleep my pains off. She lie beside me stroking my hair and just whispering it’ll be alright. Sounds of my crying didn’t cease so she simply allowed me to finish it out, before I eventually drifted to sleep.

    Barely a month following the assault, I found I was indeed pregnant with my abuser’s child after being a few weeks late. Knowing the consequences for me and the child, I foolishly had thoughts of attempting escape to a border state away from New Mexico. Alas, the gates were heavily guarded and little way over the fence, so I returned to reality. Emmy comforted me with her only advice being something we came to call back alley abortions. It was a play on words, since we had no alleys and were out in the desert. They simply took place in a secluded area of camp where nothing had been constructed and were out of view of any lighting not provided. They were risky and dangerous, as the procedure wasn’t precise and couldn’t possibly be unsterile. A risk of being caught was a common fear at the same time, with patrols not sticking to their normal routes for certain all the time. Unlike some young mothers I actually yearned to keep my child, for they were from me and would be the last family I ever had. Arriving at the vacant tent, Emmy ushered in her light. The stand in doctor asked if I was ready and I reluctantly nodded. He approached me and I chose to swing my head to the side to black it out and bury it like other traumas. The physical pain was immense but didn’t compare to the emotional pain I would endure. Thoughts of vengeance consumed me with the thoughts of violence spiking as we approached the end of the event. Although the doctor and Emmy are mumbling in the background, I remain still and as dead as before. From those moments on I swore nothing like that would happen again and that it wouldn’t be the end, but the beginning of a revolution. My abuser would be my first target and just as he had snuck into my tent in the dead of night, I would use a stealth tactic to get to him. I figured it wouldn’t require much to amp the settlement up into an uprising, as things had been heated between the men and soldiers for the past year. I couldn’t save my family but was going to save my friends I had and other’s families from this abusive new nation by any means necessary. Only after they had been overturned would I find peace and a restful heart.

    I’ve always heard time heals all wounds, it wasn’t something I believed in. My mother’s gift of dispensing hope and faith caught ahold of me, meshed with my brain absorbing my father’s training in survival. If this new tyranny thought it was over and that the rest of us would remain their slaves, they were wrong.

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

Silent Hearts // [Part I]

Pairing | Cowbell x reader

Word count | 3.2k

⚠️ Warnings | Canon divergence, f!reader, Cowbell is Cowbell. TW for blood, a little bit of violence, mention of death, attempted assault (nothing happened)

Chapter Summary: You like to go to the cemetery once a week to replace the flowers. This time you were followed by some Brothers of Sin. Along the way you meet Cowbell and learn he's a little different than the rest, but then again... so are you.

A/N: Okay so this is largely based on my interpretation of Cowbell. I love the idea that his name is actually Felix (like how Special is Phil) so that will be used now and again. Visuals for the guy are based off of Endopyre's amazing art on Tumblr, literally cannot get it out of my head.

This will eventually have a few parts as I make more stories between Bell and the reader. Take this as their origin story, but theres more to come! xoxo

You really liked spending time in the cemetery. Most of the Siblings thought you were crazy, but amongst the dead is where you found your soul’s purpose.

The Abbey didn’t have a lot of residents. It had even less that devoted their life to the Ministry long enough to be laid to rest in the unholy ground it stood upon. You made a point to go out once a week and replace the wilting flowers with new ones so they knew their devotion was still appreciated after they were gone. Once a month you would help clean off the headstones and make sure everything was well kept.

You weren’t the only one who came to visit. Obviously family members and relatives came to pay their respects or check in. The groundskeeper quickly became your friend after he accidentally locked you in one of the mausoleums during his nightly rounds. 

Dusting off the gothic angels that kept watch over the Emeritus brothers, you remembered the door being chained shut behind you. He didn’t come back until morning to find you asleep on the well swept floor. That night you appreciated the time to study the ornate decor - once you found candles to light the room of course. Each brother had a distinct design outlining their final resting place. It was beautiful.

The next morning you spoke with the groundskeeper and all was well. He took extra care to make sure you weren’t in any small cracks before he locked up anywhere after that. It became quite a funny story.

This trip out would be no different. Armed with a basket of Mountain’s newest and prettiest flowers, you happily strolled towards the cemetery gates. The ghoul kept a separate batch just for the occasion, helping the newer ones grow if they weren’t quite ready. 

The theme for this week were tulips, a batch of baby blue, peach and yellow. You had enough so each resident got one of each. The gate creaked as it opened and shut behind you, walking up the grassy hill to where your silent friends waited.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’– this walk never gets easier,” you panted, holding the skirt of your habit as you finally reached the top.

You always started from the left, working around to the right. Weaving back and forth between the rows, you placed the flowers delicately at the base of the headstones with a smile. The sun was starting to set beyond the hill. Your chores ran late so you were out later than normal, most days you were finishing up and headed back to the Abbey by now.

Turning the corner to start the last row, you stopped to count the remaining stems, making sure Mountain had given you enough. Your head shot up at the sound of a branch loudly snapping beyond the treeline. The wind kicked up, causing the gate to creak at the base of the hill as you tried to make out whether you could see who was there. Convincing yourself it was just an Earth ghoul doing a perimeter check, not noticing anything out of the ordinary you restarted your count.

“Twenty-eight… twenty-nine… thirty,” you nodded assuredly. 10 spots left. Just enough for everyone to get the same.

“Well, well. Look who we have here fellas.” A male voice spoke, startling you slightly. “You thought the ghouls were the weirdest thing in the Ministry, take a look at this one. Probably wants to dig them up and fuck 'em.”

You huffed in anger and turned to face them, placing the second last batch of flowers against the headstone. “What can I do for you?”

There were 3 of them. You didn’t recognize the other two, but the leader was in the same initiation group as you. You knew he was trouble when you both arrived at the Ministry. Clearly he was training some new goons in his tactics of being an asshole.

“Nothing, Sister,” he spat. “We were just coming by to make sure you were alright, being out here all alone. Wouldn’t want one of those feral ghouls coming and eating you up, now would we?”

“The ghouls are the least of my worries,” you said, gripping the basket tighter. You tried to look confident as they stalked closer.

You couldn’t tell where it originated, but a deep rumble weaved through the trees as the Siblings began to slowly surround you. The basket you carried slipped out of your hands as your nerves were quickly taking over.

“Look, we got her scared,” one of the newest members spoke up.

“Don’t come any closer. You know you aren’t allowed to h-hurt anyone.” You stuttered. “It’s against the rules.”

“And rules only apply to the living.”

You froze.

This time it wasn’t one of the trio that spoke. It was a gravelly, battle-hardened voice behind you. The faces of the boys in front told you all you needed to know. Their looks of terror extended beyond you, focused on where the other being stood. At least you assumed he was standing, you weren’t about to turn around and check. You just wanted to wake up from the nightmare this day turned into.

You shut your eyes, hoping this was all just a bad dream. A gust of air blew past and you heard a variety of growl-like rumbles off in the distance. Then it all went quiet. No more wind, no crunching of leaves, no taunts, or even breathing from the terror trio that were just mere inches from you.

Slowly opening your eyes, it was like it was all a dream. The three Siblings were nowhere to be found. The flowers were all in their rightful places. The last of the tulips waiting in the basket that sat at your feet.

You glanced around to see if they had given up and ran back to the Abbey, but the path up to the Ministry was clear. If they had started back, you would’ve seen them clear as day from the vantage point the cemetery had upon the hill.

You quickly placed the remaining flowers on the final grave before noticing a ghoul walking up the steps towards you.

He was tall like Mountain. He had a cloud-like mask that weaved through his dark, shoulder length hair and fully covered his eyes - indicating his element was at least part Air. As he got closer, you could notice the various piercings decorating his pointed ears. There were three more placed through the bridge of his nose and a couple around his lips. You wondered for a moment if they had been painful.

He walked as if he didn’t even notice you, completely lost in thought. His long strides carrying him quickly towards you before you gasped at the sight of blood splattered all over his chest and dripping down his face. He didn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest about it. You, however, had never seen anything like that before.

Your sharp inhale was enough to stop him in his tracks. His pointed ears twitched as he looked around without much direction, trying to locate exactly where the sound came from. It was at this point you realized this ghoul might not be able to see properly.

You weren’t sure why you slowly started walking towards him. He was clearly unstable and had just killed something, or someone. Yet the pull to him was hard to resist.

“Um,” you spoke softly, so as to not startle him. At this moment, you still weren’t sure if he even knew you were there. “Thank you for scaring them off. I really appreciate it.”

His attention turned directly to you, but it was different. Without eyes it was hard to tell exactly where his sightline was, but his head tilted upon hearing your voice. 

Okay, so he can hear but he can’t see - noted.

You shuffled nervously under his obstructed gaze, slightly unsettled that he was just standing there without speaking. It was almost like he was studying you, the way his head tilted from side to side and his ears twitched back and forth before he finally spoke.

“It’s strange…”

No shit. “Want to elaborate? A lot of this is strange.” You replied, the reality of your situation slowly starting to settle in.

“I can’t hear you.”

It was your turn to tilt your head in confusion, raising your voice to try again. “I said: ‘What’s strange? A lot of this is–”

“No no, Kitten. I can hear your voice just fine.” The ghoul smirked, the situation clearly amusing him. “Your heart, I can't hear it.”

Your brow furrowed. You didn’t realize that being able to hear heartbeats was a common ghoul trait; you didn’t know much about ghouls to start with anyway, only talking to them in passing. Exchanging momentary glances and friendly acknowledgements in the halls.

“I apologize, where are my manners? What’s your name, little one?” He asked as he leant his large body against one of the headstones, flicking stones off the top with his pointed fingers.

You scoffed a little. You weren’t all that short, but you assumed to him everyone else would indeed seem quite small. You had a fleeting thought that his enormous stature would easily rival Mountain. “(Y/N)”

The ghoul seemed to like that answer, a large grin appearing on his face showcasing many of his sharp fangs.

“And you are?” You prompted.

“Felix,” he said nonchalantly. “But almost everyone calls me Cowbell, or Bell. If we’re close you can possibly call me Cow without too much consequence.”

You stifled a laugh, letting a small snort escape through your nose as you hurried to cover your mouth.

“Something funny?”

“No! Not at all. It’s just… Cowbell?”

Instead of being offended, his grin just grew larger as he became more amused. “An unfortunate nickname from a long time ago.”

You nodded, accepting the explanation.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking.” You moved in closer, resting against the headstone across from him. “Are you, blind by any chance? Sorry if I’m assuming. I just can’t help but notice all of this,” you were talking about the mask he wore, forgetting he couldn’t see your gestures. “And the way you look around.”

He nodded. “I am. From birth actually. I created this veil of sorts to stop people from staring. Apparently my damaged eyes are a little too unsettling for the Clergy.”

If you weren’t curious about this ghoul before, you sure were now. 

“How come I’ve never seen you around the Abbey before?”

“I’m not allowed inside. I’m what you might call a ‘shit-disturber’.” He chuckles. “I was given an ultimatum: it was either solitary confinement in the catacombs, or living out the rest of my days in the woods.”

“That's awful!” You exclaimed. Never having been to the catacombs, you weren’t exactly sure what they were like. However, you knew he most likely made the right choice. At the very least, out here he was free to do as he wished.

“It’s not so bad, I promise.” He shrugged it off, the last of the pebbles discarded.

You sat in silence for a moment, the sun beginning to set. “You said something about… not hearing my heartbeat? Is that something ghouls can normally do?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s just a me thing. Since I don’t have my sight, my other senses are heightened. Hearing unfortunately being one of them. Heartbeats are like fingerprints, everyone’s is slightly different. Mixed with other things, it’s how I tell people apart.”

You nodded, trying to follow along as he explained.

“I can hear everyone’s all the time. Awake, asleep, it doesn’t matter. It drives me nuts most days, especially in crowds.” He paused. “I can’t hear yours though. As we’re sitting here it’s just... quiet.”

“Strange.”

“Indeed.”

The wind picked up and you shivered. Only dressed in your summer clothes, the suns rays were no longer warming you as it set behind the hills. The ghoul didn’t seem affected by the shift in temperature in the slightest.

“Do you know you’re covered in blood?”

The ghouls head tilted and you could see his lip curl in confusion before he let out a short laugh. “I didn’t, but that's a more common situation than you’d imagine.”

“Um…” you didn’t really know how to answer that, so you switched directions. “There’s a rainwater barrel beside the groundskeeper’s house. I could help you wash it off your face at the least? The clothes are up to you though.”

A genuine smile crossed his face at the offer. “That would be nice, thank you.”

He would never admit it, but no one had been this kind to him right off the bat. For most people it was a phase of avoidance and fear before they warmed up to his peculiar ways - the few people that he met before being banished to the woods that is.

The walk down the hill to the groundskeeper’s residence was mainly made in silence. Felix skillfully catching you from falling when you got halfway down, your foot sliding through a puddle of blood that stained the grass - remnants of the first body he dragged away by the throat moments ago. He was quick to convince you it must’ve been a wet spot from yesterday's rain. Praying the fading sunlight would keep his secret.

Alongside the house was indeed a barrel full of water. He would have to make a mental note of that for the future. He mainly used the lake to wash off the mess of his hunts, but sometimes he felt dirtier leaving the water than before he got in it.

In the Pit, Bell took very good care of his appearance. His skin was well taken care of, he took pride in his hair and the softness of his few patches of white fur. After being cast out, now he only had his tongue to groom himself. It was straight up humiliating. So the rainwater would be a nice change, at least fish didn’t shit in it.

You knew the groundskeeper left a few rags and things hanging on the clothesline in case you needed it. You figured this was a good enough reason to grab one. You told Felix to stay there while you went to pick one off the line.

There was a spout at the bottom of the barrel to fill watering cans or connect hoses, but you just popped the top off and dipped the corner of the towel into the water. You picked a dark grey one in the hopes that it wouldn’t suspiciously turn red.

Turning around with the damp towel you paused. “I– um… sorry I’m not 8 feet tall. Can you sit?”

He nodded silently and sat on the edge of the stone wall that ran alongside the house. “Woof.”

Your eyes went wide as he chuckled, clearly expecting anything but that response.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You asked me to sit– never mind. Do continue.”

You couldn't help but let a soft chuckle pass through your own lips, now understanding the context. You took a quick look at his face, deciding where you were going to start.

“Can I start on your neck? The right side?” You wanted to make sure you didn’t startle him with the sudden touch, since he wasn’t able to see you coming.

“Of course, I can’t see where the blood is.” He tilted his head up and to the side, getting a better look at his numerous fangs and piercings at this angle while he spoke. “My cleanliness is in your hands. Make me look pretty again.”

This ghoul with his off-hand comments. You smiled and shook your head before telling him you were about to start.

Wiping the cloth over the stained areas, the mostly dried blood came off with surprising ease. All the while you were cleaning off his neck, you couldn’t get his comment out of your head. He was a pretty ghoul. Maybe not conventionally, he had a ton of piercings and you could already see a few scars, knowing he probably had a few more around at the very least.

You stood back to rinse out the cloth and re-wet it, turning back to find him grinning at you.

“What are you smiling about?”

“I could feel you staring.”

“Wh– how?” Your face flushed, you didn’t even know you were looking at him that long. “I mean I wasn't…”

“It’s alright, Kitten. You can stare.” He shrugs. “Not much experience with ghouls I’m assuming?”

You shook your head before remembering to verbalize. “Not really, no. In the halls mainly,” you began to wipe the blood off his jaw, working your way to the mass of red smeared over his bottom lip and chin. “You’re the first I’ve ever had a proper conversation with actually.”

He hummed in contemplation. “The first ghoul you’ve talked to. First time I’ve heard silence in someone’s company… today is full of firsts.”

“I like firsts, they always lead to interesting things.”

He couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face as you rinsed the towel one more time, returning to work on the main concentration of blood below his lip.

You tried your hardest to work carefully around his piercings so as not to bother them too much. There was so much blood that you had to rinse twice, rubbing with significant force before all that was left was a little bit on the side–

“Ow.” Felix mumbled, trying not to move.

Confusion crossed your face before your eyes quickly went wide, noticing the streak of fresh blood run down his chin. “Oh my gosh, did I do that?”

Felix’s chest rumbled in amusement. The sound was covered by conveniently timed thunder off in the distance as you dabbed at it, trying not to smear it further. If the sun had still been lighting the sky, you would’ve noticed that the blood was not red like the rest, but actually black.

“I don’t know where that came from. Huh.” He smirked. “Weird.”

You happened to look up. Noting his fangs on that side covered in it, as well as his tongue as it passed over the puncture wound on his bottom lip. You immediately took a step back with an unamused scowl.

“You did that on purpose.”

“Maybe,” his head tilts once again. It was clearly a ghoulish trait. “I just wanted to see how you would react. You got so worried, it was very cute.”

If your eyes could roll further back into your skull, you would be searching for the brain cell that made you fall for his tricks and immediately cussing it out. You huffed in frustration, turning to abandon your efforts before something behind you pulled you back into him.

“Your face was so close to mine, I just wanted you to stay there a little bit longer.”

Your brow furrowed as you looked over your shoulder to see what pushed against your back, only to find a strong tail with white fur at the end. Having never interacted with many ghouls before, this in itself was a bit of a shock. Nevertheless everything else that had just happened in the last hour. People simply do not have tails!

But he wasn’t really a person at the end of the day. Was he?

[Next]

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

🖤 MASTERLIST 🖤

Started: 27/06/24

Last Updated: 13/09/24

Total Works: 9

Nameless Ghouls

Omega

Sick!Omega x Reader

Dewdrop

Perfectly Misaligned // (Dewdrop Blurb)

Alpha

"In the night, I am real..." // (Alpha x Reader) Part I / Part II / Part III

Bonded in Blue // (Sister Emery OC x Alpha) Part I / Part II

Phantom

Love, Eternal // (Phantom x Sister!Reader) Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV

Mountain

A Dark Redemption Part I / Part II / Part III / Epilogue

Cowbell

Silent Hearts // (Cowbell x Reader) Part I / Part II

Papas

Primo

Bad day snuggle fic with Primo

Terzo

"You're set free..."

IF ANY LINKS ARE BROKEN OR WRONG, PLEASE LET ME KNOW 🖤

Multi-part fics will post once a day at 10am EST. I will update this list the best I can when I have active fics being released!