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26 | She/Her | Don't follow. You don't wanna be involved in my bullshit | 18+ Blog | Commissions | Ko-fi

[inkrabbit]

This blog is 18+! Minors: DNI! I check all blogs that follow me and will block anyone under 18. This is for my safety and for yours. I post and reblog some content that's not suitable for minors

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If you're looking for requests, please check here!

Ever had questions about Papa Nihil, his ghouls, or even how the ministry used to be? Ask Silvanus

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Below the cut is general information

Notes for Ghost!

Occasionally, I will reblog the ghouls (Era 5) unmasked! However, I will always tag it with "#unmasked ghoul" or "#unmasked ghouls". If you don't want to see the people behind the mask, please block these tags!

Just so we're clear: I call Era 5's lead guitarist "Sodo" instead of "Dewdrop"! I've seen a few people on tumblr upset about people calling him something different. Understand that this is my preference and I will not be changing it. And no, I will not respond to any questions asking about this.

When writing for the Papas, I try to swap between the masculine and feminine versions of terms of endearment. Italian is very unforgiving and I try to swap between both versions as a way to stay "gender neutral". No, it doesn't always work and I've been trying to find ways around it, such as pet names being something the Papa likes, such as Primo using "griasole" (sunflower) while Secondo uses "uccello canoro" (songbird).

I do occasionally use American-Italian slang, especially if I'm writing for Ares or Secondo. I try to always translate these since you can't use google translate for them, but sometimes I forget or skip over a word. If you're curious to know what the word is, feel free to let me know!

Most of my requests have been uploaded to AO3! The Papa's Favorite for all of your Papa needs, and Into the Ghoul's Den for the boys! Note: Not all of my requests have made it over from Tumblr to AO3, but I'm hoping they will one day.

Notes for Bully!

As stated in the request section, I will NOT accept any asks or DMs regarding student/teacher relationship. I don't care if it's hinted ingame, I don't care if it's what you want to see. It will NOT be tolerated on this blog.

When making fics for Bully, I try to incorporate actual dialogue from the characters. This helps me keep them more in character, and also gives me a good opportunity to use any cut beta dialogue or actual interactions.

On the topic of cut beta content: The Boy's Dorm in my fics will always be the beta version. This is really just the same layout as the Girl's Dorm, but with a more masculine color palette (brown/tan walls with blue carpet).

If you want to now more about my own personal headcanons for any character or clique, feel free to ask!

Notes for Repugnant!

Similar to their music, my Repugnant fics and/or headcanons can get incredibly dark. Please be sure to read the warnings first if the fic or headcanons have them!

Because we don't have much content for the band (such as no interviews to display character personality or interactions and we're only given a glimpse of personality for Mary), my interpretations of the band members might be different from others.

I will not sit here and debate what is "right" or "wrong" for each band member. Yes, I have seen some other headcanons and fics. No, I personally do not agree with all of them. But that's why it's a headcanon and not actual canon. If someone likes my headcanons and uses them, great. If they hate them, that's great, too.

Sometimes I will let the musicians and characters overlap. For example, I headcanon that Jimmy Hopkins from Bully has a passion for music just like his VA. I headcanon that Sodo from Ghost has a more soft-spoken/shy persona when off stage just like his musician. Repugnant will be no different.

If there are any questions regarding my own personal headcanons for these four, again, feel free to ask.

And that's everything! Thank you for stopping by and checking out my blog! If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me an ask or a DM!

[inkrabbit]

You find a sketch of Silvanus tucked away inside of Papa Nihil's old books. You're not sure if this was done before Papa's passing or when he was younger, considering you've seen Silvanus dressed in a similar way. Either way, it makes you wonder if there are sketches of the other ghouls.

[stoatsandwich-blog-deactivated2]

Send me an anonymous ask completing the sentence "I wish you would write a fic where..."

[songweretson-deactivated2019091]

OH MY GOSH, YES!!!

[inkrabbit]

start tagging your fics if you use c.ai or ai at all for it pls?🥺

[inkrabbit]

"Papa?"

The office is still dark and cold, lit candles offering some semblance of light. It's hard to see properly, but you can make him out, the familiar elderly man lounging on the couch, still dawning the black and red silk robes. A glass of wine is held lazily in his hand, gently swirling its contents, and in the dim light, you can see that his traditional papal makeup is smudged in some places.

But this can't be right. It's been years and most people have even forgot he's existed, his memory shadowed by his younger successors. Even the ghouls didn't speak of him much, focusing primarily on the newest Papa and how Frater Imperator was running the ministry.

"Look at the state of this place," he grumbles softly, "Much has changed since my last visit."

"You've visited, Papa?"

"Sὶ," He takes a sip of his wine, not bothering to look up at you. "And every time, I'm disappointed."

That's not fair, you want to tell him, but you bite your tongue. He finally picks his head up, looking at you. He raises a hand, gesturing the sign of the upside down cross in your direction.

"My new blessed," he announces casually, "I can't trust the others to carry on my wishes. They've either passed or left. Now, the burden falls unto you."

When you open your mouth to retort, he cuts you off, continuing, "I have no interest in your words. You will care for different aspects of mine, and in return, I will ensue you receive your due." He shoos you away, turning his attention back to his wine. "Go, ask the eldest earth ghoul of your new duties. He will guide you."

The sound of your alarm rips you out of the dimly-lit office. Laying in bed, you lazily pat your hand around until you find your phone, shutting the alarm off and staring at the wall. The dream, which had played out only a moment ago, was becoming lost and hazy, hard to recall. But you remembered the presence and the papal paint. Papa Primo, alive and well, sitting before you with a disappointed tone.

The eldest earth ghoul. You tried to rack your brain of the ghouls who were currently around. You knew the story of how Papa Terzo had ghouls who served under Frater Imperator when he was Papa, only for two of them to be gruesomely killed in the courtyard. If memory served you correct, Papa Nihil's ghouls still roamed the ministry, and it was his fire and earth ghoul that had carried out the attack. You supposed you could risk going to their dens and seeing if the dream held any weight.

You dressed in your usual uniform, gathering your things before leaving your dorm room. The walk to the old dens had you trying in vain to remember more details about the dream, but you couldn't muster anything past his advice to seek out the earth ghoul. Maybe this was silly, to approach one of the ghouls you knew was the most unstable, but it felt like some unseen force kept urging you forward. So when you gathered the courage and opened the door, you flinched at the knife being thrown your way, embedding itself in the wall next to you.

"We're not animals in a fucking zoo, waiting to be gawked at!" The ghoul yells, standing at the island in the kitchen. His ashen-green skin and deer antlers catch your attention. What luck. "Get the hell out!"

"I wanted to talk. To you?" You eye him wearily but stand firm by the door. "You... remember Papa Primo, right?"

"Of course I remember him!" The ghoul rolls his eyes, leaning against the counter again as he raises his phone, turning his attention away from you and to the screen. "I raised him. What's it to you, anyway?"

"I had a dream of him. I think? He told me to 'seek out the eldest earth ghoul.' It's silly, but I thought-"

"So he chose you," His tone changes from hostility to almost wonder. He takes a moment to look you over before shrugging. "Carmine does this. He'll pick a Sibling of Sin to carry out duties for him, which are just little chores he wants done from beyond the grave."

"Carmine?" You've never heard that name before.

"Did you really think they named him Primo when he was born?" The ghoul chuckles. "It's a name, sure, but not one they gave him. When he stepped down for Dante-"

"Papa Secondo?"

"Exactly. When he stepped down and the frontman role was passed onto Dante, he became Papa Emeritus the Second, or Papa Secondo. It was just easier, and still is."

"Why don't you call them Papa?"

The ghoul scoffs, pushing off the counter and sauntering over to you. "I didn't even wanna call my master Papa. Do you really think I would do the same for children I helped raise?" He rolls his eyes, extending his hand. "Silvanus, at your service. I'll give you a rundown of what's expected of you, and you can always come back to me if you need any help with the specifics."

"Why did Papa specifically mention you? Doesn't he have his own earth ghoul?" You know that Papa Primo's ghouls still roamed the ministry, albeit they were harder to find.

"I raised Carmine personally," Silvanus explains, "Besides, his own earth ghoul, Apache, isn't very useful. He's only active during peak summer, and even then, he barely knows what's going on or how to tend to a garden."

You look at him confused. "Don't earth ghouls specialize in gardens?"

"You'd think that, but Apache is a desert earth ghoul. There are different types, like how I'm a forest one, and your beloved Mountain is more of a mountain or terrain type."

"Is it the same for all ghouls?"

"Mostly. We're all similar but also different. Nothing to worry that pretty little head of yours about."

As you walk with him down the path towards the old garden, you take time to admire him. His orange face markings, the teeth that stick out from his mouth, the piercings. But what still throws you off are his clothes. A wrinkled white tank top and black sweats, no doubt having been crumbled up either on the floor or slept in. Had he just woken up? All of the ghouls normally put on their uniform after waking up, and you were 100% sure Papa Nihil's ghouls didn't dress like this in the 60's.

"Can I... ask about...?" You gesture to his outfit and he snorts softly.

"Like why I'm not wearing that turtleneck and leather jacket?" Is that what they wore? "Do you know how long I've been here? How long we've been here? We helped build this place, bring in members, and we've buried them, too. We've done our work, and we only wear our uniform when..." He pauses, furrowing his brow. "I- Fuck. I keep forgetting Imperator isn't around anymore."

"He's-"

"Sister Imperator." He shakes his head. "We struck a deal with her years ago. We'd wear our uniform whenever we would do tours or accompany our master, and then it was just us doing tours, but now... We don't really need to at all. There's so many ghouls doing shit now."

"Feeling left out?"

"Nah. It's nice to finally be left the hell alone," He glances over at you. "Well, mostly alone."

You follow him into the shed, listening to him quickly go through the plants in the garden, watering schedules, how plants should look, and even when to get him or another earth ghoul that specialized in plants. Still, now that he seemed less hostile, you couldn't help yourself.

"Could you tell me some stories about yourself?" you ask him, "Like... what it was like when Papa Nihil was... well, Papa?"

He gives you a blank look before a casual shrug. "Sure. What do you wanna know first?"

[inkrabbit]

So Devoted the Lines Blur

Summary: Mary has never been one for relationships. Not one for "I love you," "Marry me," or even the slow moment of something intimate and tender. And least, not in the conventional way.

Warning: Obsession, stabbing, blood, murder, manipulation, gaslighting, Mary is psychotic and obsessed with reader, the band enables Mary's behavior

Dating Mary Goore was certainly new. You had your fair share of shitty relationships and toxic exes, instances where you had been the victim and the initiator. But goddamn, was Mary the walking description of a wild card.

You barely remember how you two even started dating. You remember meeting Repugnant's bassist, G., who had kindly offered to take you to meet the rest of the band. All of them had been sweet, even Mary at the time, who had seemed to take an interest in you.

You weren't born last night. You knew the typical events that went on backstage between musicians and fans. Maybe you had indulged in it once or twice, but nothing you would let Repugnant know at the time. The flirting between you and Mary had started out as playful banter, with you clearly stringing him along. You had internally waged war with yourself, considering giving to his idiotic charms or keeping the game going for longer, just to watch them fucking beg.

But Mary isn't one to be told "no." When it came to the heart, it was easy for them to become smitten, and your little banter had been the catalyst that had kickstarted his obsession. The exchange of numbers and lingering touches? That was Mary's innocent-looking ploy to stake their claim over you. The way they sat next to you at the bar, playfully keeping an arm around your shoulder? Just a way to ensure you stayed next to him and couldn't leave.

Repugnant's guitarist, DD, had watched you two closely. He knew about Mary's personality and motives, but then again, it wasn't his business to say anything about it. However, it was his business to nudge the vocalist's shoulder and gesture to a man who kept stealing glances at you.

"You got some competition." And while the sentence itself could be seen as a joke, DD had murmured it so seriously into Mary's ear that they knew it was anything but.

The story G. had started? About his tattoo that he was so proud of and wanted you to look at? That was just a way for you to take your eyes off of Mary, who had promised they were just going to the bathroom as they left your side. With your eyes off of Mary and their actions, you completely missed the sleight of hand between them and E. as they took the hunting knife originally hidden in E.'s jacket.

You'd never know about Mary following the man outside, or how they dragged him behind the bar and stabbed him until his face was unrecognizable and his chest scarcely resembled minced meat. Despite being lean, Mary had no problem disposing the man's body, dragging it under the cover of darkness to a nearby graveyard, its church withered away to nothing more than an attraction for edgy teens and those with a macabre interest.

While this happened, you had followed the rest of the band out of the bar, giggling and joking with them. DD had finally showed some personality, witty banter and sarcasm that seemed similar to Mary's, and G. had indulged you with stories about their misadventures and how they had come together as the new lineup for Repugnant. E., however, had stayed relatively quiet. He responded to your questions and had gave you tidbits of his own life, but he wasn't as open as the other two.

As you had approached the hotel you were staying at, Mary had finally made their appearance, cleaned up and in a new set of clothes, claiming they had thrown up on themselves in the bathroom. You don't really notice it, too caught up in rolling your eyes as Mary saunters towards you, a small, playful pout on their lips as they claim they couldn't "be unsightly in the presence of a deity," but the other men have taken a couple steps away from you and have already turned their backs to leave, leaving you alone with Mary.

"Why are you out here alone?" Mary questioned, their eyes darting around. You only realized then that the others had left and you were standing in front of the hotel in the middle of the night, with the vocalist being your only companion. "No boyfriend or girlfriend?"

"Who says I don't have one?" You were single but you just liked seeing the distasteful look on Mary's face. Just something to make him squirm a bit.

"Because if I was your partner," they purred, "I'd never let you go somewhere alone. Who knows what kind of freaks are walking around?"

"Such as yourself?" Mary’s mouth fell open, a hand feigning offense as they looked at you.

“I’m a high-quality freak!” they retorted proudly, “Anyone would be lucky to have me. Especially you.”

You don’t even remember inviting them into your hotel room, and you couldn’t explain the feeling of desire that had washed over you. The intimate night spent with him, tangled in the bed and pressed so tightly against his body you could feel his heart hammering against his chest, it was something that felt almost supernatural. There was something you could faintly feel in your lungs, every time you breathed in, that kept you wanting more. More of their touch, more of their essence, more of them.

And when neither of you could continue, the feeling faded away with each pant. Like you were finally released from the clutches of whatever had once held you. In Mary’s arms, you had laid limp, cuddled against his chest and listening to his heartbeat eventually slow into a calm rhythm.

“We’d make a great pair,” Mary had mumbled, lithe fingers tracing patterns across your body. “How about it?”

“Is this your way of asking me out?” You had said it to just tease but there was a voice, deep down inside of you, that had already said yes.

Still, Mary dramatically rolled their eyes. “Will you do the honor of becoming my partner?”

Well, when you’re asked like that…

“I’d love to be.”

[melodicwriter]

[inkrabbit]

Needed to put this somewhere so I don’t forget. Also I figured what the hell, people can see the more beta version of that demon!Mary fic I’ve been thinking of.

You remembered finding them on the side of the road, crumbled in the ditch like some forgotten prop. Their motorcycle was a few feet beside them, evident of the accident that had happened. You didn’t care at that moment, tripping over yourself to get to his cold, motionless body. You don’t know how long they had been laying there, probably crying out for help and in excruciating pain as they lay there, scared and forgotten.

You threw yourself over his mangled body, a guttural cry having escaped your lips as you held them close. You should’ve drove them yourself. You should’ve followed them. Something. Anything to have prevented this. You couldn’t imagine a life without Mary. They’re sarcastic remarks and witty banter. That grin they would give you when it was like both of you had the same idea. The stupid, horrible jokes made to rile you up that seemed to just come out of nowhere.

You sobbed over his body for what felt like decades, cradling his cheek and begging him to come back. Even if it was only for you to say goodbye. Just so you could hear their voice one last time - look into those green eyes that held so much character and personality behind the metalhead persona. You just needed that one opportunity to tell him everything. How much you loved him as a person, how he was your best friend and no one could ever replace him. How much you would miss your late night talks or reliance on each other.

You didn’t notice the changes at first, too caught up in your wallowing. But when Mary finally gasped, choking on air and thrashing in your arms, you fought to rein them in. Their eyes were blown wide, skin still covered in dried blood, as they breathed heavily and looked around in a daze. They twitched and writhed, hissing in pain as another wave of tears and emotions flooded through you.

“Mary!” you croaked, hugging them as tightly as you could. “You’re alive!”

“Hurts,” he hissed, back arching off the ground. “Fucking… hurts!”

You’re not surprised and you doubt the aspirin you had lost somewhere in your car would help this mess. So you settled for holding them, fumbling with your phone to call an ambulance. If Mary was alive, maybe there was a chance. Maybe they would be okay.

The conversation with the operator was a blur of information and begging - pleading that they hurry and you didn’t know how long Mary would stay conscious. All the while, Mary stayed in your arms, trying to find a comfortable position that alleviated the pain. When you finally got off the phone and told him the ambulance was on the way, they just looked up at you with big eyes.

“I think I died,” they confessed softly and between deep breaths, “I… I saw someone. I had wings and… I dunno. I asked them to send me back. And they ripped off one of my wings and just said okay. I don’t…”

You nodded along, stroking their filthy hair. Truth be told, you can’t really been paying attention to the rambling. What was important was keeping him conscious until the ambulance arrived. So long as he kept talking, kept staring at you and showing consciousness, you didn’t care.

By the time the ambulance got there, Mary was still whimpering and squirming in pain, and they let out an agonizing cry when the paramedics carefully put them on the stretcher. A flurry of information and medical terms flew past you, and you relayed whatever information you could to them. Mary had an appointment with their psychiatrist, drove their motorcycle to the hospital, and you didn’t hear from them after that. That was yesterday afternoon, a fact that had made your heart clench and your stomach churn. Mary was hurt and alone for over twenty-four hours. He laid there, in the ditch, in the cold, wondering and believing he was going to die.

And no one was there for him.

You rode in the ambulance with them, your car forgotten. You had your keys, you could always get a ride from one of the boys and come back for it. But in that moment, you needed to be beside Mary. Just to make sure they would be okay and you could keep an eye on them. You couldn’t bear to leave them again, not after you had just gotten them back.

So when you were finally allowed into the hospital room after waiting for hours, you planted yourself in the chair beside the bed and held his hand, gently stroking his bandaged knuckles. The doctor spoke with a mixture of confusion and relief.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” he told Mary, “With the accident and your injuries, you should be dead.”

Mary stayed silent. You thought that they would’ve had some witty remark, or playful quip like always. But instead, they just laid in the hospital bed, looking exhausted and mentally checked out.

“You’ll be okay,” the doctor reassured them, “You’ll spend a little bit in here, but we’ll take good care of you.”

“Do you know how long they’ll be in here?” you asked hesitantly, finally tearing your eyes away from Mary to look at the doctor.

“Everyone heals differently,” he responded with a light shrug. “Could be a week, could be month. But Mary’s in the right place. We’ll do all we can.” He paused, a perplexed look crossing his face as he picked up Mary’s chart. “In fact… it is strange. There’s no broken bones but… you said Mary crashed a motorcycle?”

“From what it looked like. I thought maybe there was some ice on the road that they didn’t see?”

“There’s no evidence of broken bones. We can see several places that have once been broken and healed, but there’s no new breaks or fractures.”

You gave him a confused look. “They didn’t get like this on their own. And their motorcycle looked mangled. How are no bones broken?”

“Maybe it’s a miracle?” The doctor shrugged, setting the chart back down. “We won’t focus on that now. We’ll just focus on making sure Mary gets better.”

All throughout the exchange, Mary stayed silent, looking off into space. You figured he just didn’t want to talk. Maybe he was too exhausted or traumatized. Whatever the case was, you let him be. The fact that they were still with you was a miracle on its own.

[inkrabbit]

Hunted - Mary's Variation

Repugnant concerts were… something. You had been to a few, enjoying the shows and the crowd along with it. You had met amazing people, and even had the pleasure of meeting the band. They had been sweet, very courteous. Even their frontman, Mary Goore, had been sweet and gentle with you.

But tonight was different. You had spoken with Mary off and on, just some minor back-and-forth messages. The last message you had gotten was an address. Something about the band wanting to do a more "hidden" show. Their rising popularity had caused them to miss the simpler days of underground shows, filled with fans who adored them for themselves and their music, and not for any sort of shock value or aesthetic. And who were you to argue with whatever the hell Repugnant decided to do?

It should've been a red flag. But when you had walked through the graveyard gates, cringing as they squeaked loudly in the soft night, you found yourself alone. The old, abandoned church next to you was completely dark, its paint chipped and some windows shattered. It set the scene for a death metal band, sure, but… There wasn't even a stage, or any instruments being set up. No roadies, no crowds, not even a few people wandering around.

By the time you took your phone out to ask Mary what the hell, you heard footsteps approaching you. There the vocalist was, grinning at you with - had their teeth always been that sharp?

"Sorry," he starts in a mock cheerful tone, "but there's been a change of plans. No show tonight."

You look at him like he's stupid, opening your mouth to retort, but he cuts you off. Raising a hand, they point to the rows of graves in front of you.

"You've got until sunrise," they tell you blandly, "We're gonna play a little game. You're gonna run and hide, either among the graves or inside the church, I don't care. The game doesn't end until the sun comes up, or I grab you." Another grin forms on his face. "And you don't wanna know what game over is."

He shoves you, standing in one spot as he proceeded to yell "Run rabbit, run!" An intimidation of Otis Driftwood from the movie House of 1000 Corpses that he had told you about during on your sessions talking.

There's a moment of hesitation, where you wait for Mary to laugh and tell you he's fucking with you. That maybe the stage is elsewhere, either further in the graveyard or insane the rundown church. But there's nothing. Just a patient grin and a keen, observing stare. So you turn and run, leaping over grave markers and trying to put distance between you and the second pair of footsteps that start up as they give chase.

It's hard to see in the graveyard, and you stumble a few times when your foot catches the edge of a headstone or you step on a piece of the ground that is bent in a weird angle. You've even hit your side on a couple tombstones that, for some reason, have been carved into an odd shape and, in your haste to get away from the lunatic behind you, you cut a corner way too soon. So when you finally collapse behind a mausoleum, your lungs burning from the exercise, you take the chance to curl up and try to cover your heavy breathing.

Mary creeps around the area, and you can hear them calling out in a mocking tone. Your body is thrumming, both from the pain and the overexertion, and your legs feel like they're going numb. But you hear Mary pass by, walking further into the graveyard while they call out your name. The second you get some feeling back, you crawl away from the mausoleum, making your way into the old church. The door is silent as you nudge it open, slipping inside. It's hard to see, but you notice candles already lit by the altar, and... a thick grimoire sitting on top of it, opened to a random page. You stand up with shaky legs, approaching it slowly and peering down.

A sacrifice.

For prosperity and fame.

To receive, you must give.

Your heart falls to your stomach. Had this been planned? Did he talk to you just to set this up?

By the time Mary finds you in the church, you're still staring at the page and its contents, your eyes misty as you perform mental gymnastics, remembering everything you've said to each other over text and call. The light flirting and excited response to you agreeing to come to this "secret show." His excitement had come from how much of a sucker you were.

"Aww, come on," they purr as they walk down the aisle, "don't look like that. You have such an important part in all this."

"How long have you been planning this?" The question tumbles out on its own, but it's still something you're curious to know. And to your surprise, his expression changes.

"I didn't really plan anything, per se," he mumbles, shrugging his shoulders and kicking a stray pebble with his boot. There's a change in them now. They almost look... disappointed? "Look, I couldn't think of anyone else, okay? I don't talk to my family, I obviously couldn't sacrifice one of my boys, and there wasn't anyone else I had a connection with, so..." They sigh heavily, rubbing at their face with both hands. "It couldn't be random. It had to be a connection, and... I really want this to work."

He looks up at you with this desperate expression you're not used to. "They're talented. Repugnant is finally working out, you know? We're so close. I need this extra push. I'm sorry, but it's either my feelings for you, or a secure future for me and the others."

Feelings for you? You give them a curious look and they just roll their eyes, advancing towards you.

"You know what I mean. I'm... I'm sorry."

[inkrabbit]

"You cut your hair..."

Had the years apart really been that drastic? Looking at Mary in front of you, their once long, soft hair now reduced to nothing more than a devilock that's been dyed black. Hell, you still have an old Polaroid somewhere back home, the both of you drunk on the couch with your hand in his hair while he's flipping off the camera. Maybe it was your fault to assume they would look the same.

You remember hearing that Repugnant was being revived, with a new lineup, of course. By chance, Mary had reached out to you a couple months ago, sounding relieved when you hadn't changed your number since your last encounter. You talked for hours, catching up and listening to him talk about Repugnant. The new musicians weren't close friends, surprisingly. In fact, they were friends of a friend, and Mary had seemed thrilled at their talent.

So when he brought up a show at your local bar, you were more than happy to agree to attend. You'd be able to support them and be able to catch up in person with someone you had been close with. And really, you were curious to see the new members, especially since he spoke highly of them.

But the Mary you saw wasn't the same anymore. Sure, it had been years and everyone had changed. You're sure you changed as well. Hell, you know you did. But there was something in his eyes that wasn't right. The smile didn't quick reach, he jerked back when you tried to wrap your arms around his neck for a hug, he fiddled with anything he had in his hands. And when you mentioned the new hairstyle, there was a flicker across their features. It wasn't something you couldn't place, but it didn't look good.

When Mary had stepped away from the bathroom, E., Repugnant's new drummer that was sitting beside you, cocked his head in your direction and told you softly, "They got out of a bad relationship about a week ago. They're working through it"

The rest of the table didn't pay any mind to his words, too lost in their banter, so you used this time to your advantage. "Is that why their hair is so short?"

"She said they looked like a woman with long hair," E. huffed. You found it almost comical, seeing as all of the new members had long hair. "We tried to help them out of it, but... they came to practice one day and their hair was gone. Didn't tell us what happened, but we knew it was her." He takes a sip of his beer, glancing at the bathroom to ensure Mary hadn't returned. "She fucked them up."

"What did she do to him?"

"I dunno. They were always private about it, but we're sure she choked them once. Canceled practice but DD saw them at work trying to cover bruises on their neck." He scoffs, shaking his head. "I tried to help them out, but I think they were scared."

You look him over. He was about the same height as Mary, maybe an inch or two taller, but he had more weight to him, giving him a more sturdy build. "You tried to help?"

"I've had my fair share of those kinds of relationships," he admits, "I'm just glad they're out of it now. We've all been kind of... tiptoeing around them." He looks at you, suddenly perking up a bit, like he's remembered something. "Don't take anything they do seriously. Like how you hugged them earlier? It wasn't your fault. I think getting close to their neck is just kind of... like a trigger? I just think it's gonna take time for them to get used to everything."

You nod slowly, thanking him. It started to make sense. The change in their personality, the slight flinch with certain movement or abrupt noises, that paranoid look in their normally carefree eyes. You could feel your heart clench. Would everything be different had you two stayed in contact? Would you had been able to keep them from that experience?

When Mary returns to the table, you still give him a smile and welcome him back. There's no use to try and bring it up. You're grateful for the knowledge, and you're already drawing up ideas of how to approach them and certain things. Less physical contact than what you two are used to, and more of an effort to connect better again. Besides, you've missed Mary. And knowing what's happened, you're determined to make sure history never repeats itself.

[inkrabbit]

"Tell me your wildest dream."

"... I wanna take over this city. Fuck, maybe even the world."

"The world? Pretty ambitious, aren't you?"

You let out a guttural scream, throwing your arms up to defend yourself as the building in front of you collapses. Debris and concrete hit the ground, knocking you off of your feet. Your body thrums as a reaction to whatever has hit you, and it takes you a second to slowly ease out of your pathetic, self-proclaimed protective ball. The people in front of you, who were just seeking shelter...

"You wouldn't wanna take over the world? C'mon, it would be fun."

"What would you wanna do first?"

Their blood slowly forms out from under the rubble and your stomach churns at the sight. They seemed like good people. They had offered to let you join them. You were going to find a safe haven with them.

"Anything."

You don't even realize you're being grabbed until you're being hurled through the air and into the street. The wind is knocked out of you as you stare up at the red sky, gasping for air. It doesn't help, the thick smoke and ash still burning your lungs.

Mary waltzes over, a sneer on his face as he peers down at you, speaking in a mocking tone, "Aww, poor baby. Did you lose your precious friends?"

You let out a cry as their boot makes contact with your stomach. You roll onto your side, trying to curl away from them in a futile attempt to hide.

"How does it feel to be all alone?" Mary continues, resting their boot on your shoulder. The pressure makes you grit your teeth as they put more weight onto it. "To think, you have... something. Something to look forward to with someone." He applies more pressure as he leans down, getting a better look at your dirty face as he starts to yell, "How does it feel to have the prospect of friends be fucking torn away from you?! How does it feel to have hope that you've finally found someone to be your rock, and suddenly, they're gone?!"

He finally moves off of you, pacing behind your cowering form. You know they're talking about you, and really, you wouldn't be surprised if they had anything to do with the building crumbling on the people you would've sought shelter with.

"And yet," Mary continues with a sigh, finally no longer pacing. "I still keep hoping you'll come around." You hear his boots scuff a bit on the asphalt, and you assume he's turning away from you. "You know where to find me if you change your mind."

[neon-junkie]

Ok but Colm has killed people as we all know right. But that gun he has? It's not real. It's one of those toy guns that little kids fill up with water and shoot at each other with. No, Colm doesn't kill with a gun. He doesn't even torture people for that matter. If you have ever wondered how Colm O'Driscoll kills people, I'm about to shed light on that. You see, he allows his victim to believe they have the upper hand. He taunts them, calls them a fucking donkey and provokes them into a fight. They slap his face, they throw punches, and with each hit, a bit of grease splatters from Colm's body onto the floor. Grease, grease, the grease keeps falling, all into a puddle on the floor. Eventually, Colm starts trying to evade and dodge the attacks thrown his way, making his victim call him a slimy old coward and giving chase, but oh no! They've slipped in the grease! Slip, slop, slap, right onto the floor. Landing right on their spine, they are paralysed. They realise now, they have fallen into Colm's trap. His greasy, KFC fryer-like trap. His hair oils give off a putrid odour beneath their back, their shirt stained in the secretly weaponised grease, and they stare up at Colm with nothing but horror in their eyes. Begging for their life does nothing. Colm smiles, his lack of lips showing only his teeth, and without a word, he squats over the victim and rips a shit so ferocious that historians gathered up a particle of it many months later, stored it in the museum and named it Godzilla Jr.

[inkrabbit]

Journal Entry - 1967

You return to the office during some downtime, moving quietly through the ministry. You find Papa Nihil's journal where you had left it and slide it out from its spot, flipping through the pages again.

06/20/1967

I decided to do the ritual again. No more being scared. I decided to see Astraeus's life and learn more about him.

It was cold when I had woken up, on the outskirts of some town. A lot different from where Neptune and Silvanus lived, but that's to have been expected. I know he said he was a Viking when he was alive, and the little settlement had looked similar to what I had been anticipating.

The group, however, didn't take too kindly to me. Many of them pointed weapons at me - spears and swords, some readying their bow and arrows. I had never been so scared for my life. I still don't know what would've happened had any of them attacked me.

Luckily, the leader had taken pity on me. I suppose my blubbering and tears had swayed her, and she ordered the others to stand down. But beside her, I saw him: Astraeus. He looked the same - more human, obviously. But instead of his white hair and beard, he was blond with brilliant blue eyes. The markings on his face are the same as the white markings he has in his ghoul form. In fact, that's what had given him away.

But they didn't call him "Astraeus" here. Of course not. They called him Bjorn. Bear, I later realized. He stayed close to the woman, Astrid, and spoke with her frequently. When they had finally welcomed me, I spoke with Astraeus a bit.

He wasn't the most friendly, but did speak a little. He was second-in-command to Astrid. Fitting, I suppose, since he's also Ares's second. I slipped up a couple times and called him "Astraeus." He just gave me a funny look, and called me some word I didn't understand. I had explained to him that it was a god that was associated with dusk and the stars. He gave me a funny look again, but shrugged and muttered a word that I later found out was "skål."

I was welcome to their feast, got to play with the little ones, and had the honor of listening in on Astraeus playing his lyr. When I asked him about the paint, he told me that Astrid had done it for him. He seemed proud about it. They seem close. I wonder what she meant to him, since it seems to be more than just a leader.

When I came to, I went to find Astraeus and decided to ask him about his life. He seemed a bit apprehensive at first, but he finally

You don't notice the door to the office opening until you hear a soft voice.

"My child, what are you doing in here?" Papa Nihil's voice is curious as he gazes at you before his white eyes flicker down to his journal. He huffs, a deep frown on his face as he snatches the book away from you. "Snooping! You know how disrespectful it is to go through someone else's things without permission?!"

"Apologies, Papa. I was just curious," you confess, hanging your head low. "Your ghouls aren't very friendly, except to you, Sister, and their handler. I was curious about how they are, and how they used to be."

Papa Nihil glances down at his journal, skimming through the old writing. He's quiet for a bit, raising a wrinkled hand to gently brush his fingertips over the page you were on.

"He loved her," he says softly, his voice above a whisper. "He did everything to please her. Followed all of her orders, defended her. And then, she quite literally stabbed him in the back and set him ablaze."

It takes you a second before you realize he's talking about Astraeus. He lets out a soft sigh, hobbling over to the couch and plopping down with a soft huff. He pats the space next to him, though he doesn't give you a second glance.

"I miss him, you know," he mutters, "I'd go searching for him if I was sure he wouldn't attack. I should've done more. I should've..."

He trails off, frowning as he stares blankly at the page. You sit next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"A quintessence ghoul," he continues softly, "Spiritual and empathetic. I should've realized how much of an emotional burden he had been under. I'm a fool to have let him suffer. I should've pushed more to help him."

"You didn't know, Papa," you tell him in an attempt to comfort him, "From what I read, the ghouls liked their privacy."

"I still remember these talks with them. All of them," He slowly raises his head, finally looking at you as he closes the journal. "I wish I had spoken to Astraeus more."

"Could you tell me some stories about him?"

He chuckles, leaning back on the couch. "Oh, where to begin. You know, there was a time I had caught him trying to sneak out of Silvanus's room, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers! I can't believe I hadn't noticed them getting closer before..."

[inkrabbit]

Journal Entry - 1967

You notice Papa Nihil's old journal laying about as you're cleaning up one of the offices. After ensuring that no one else is around, you tentatively pick up the book and thumb through the pages until you stop at a random page.

06/16/1967

Lilith told me of a ritual I could do to get a glimpse into the lives of my ghouls. She thought it would help me connect with them more, especially Astraeus. She said my spirit would be transported to a random point in their lives before they died.

Perhaps I should've started with Astraeus first, but I was too intimidated. So, I settled for Neptune first, and subsequently, also found Silvanus. I forgot they were alive at the same time and lived in the same town.

I'll admit, I was overwhelmed when I saw them at first. Neptune, especially. To finally hear his voice, I was overwhelmed. Deep, with a thick country accent. Fitting for the middle of the 19th century, I suppose.

I couldn't help myself. I started crying in front of him, like some nutcase. I remember the jarred expression he had when he tried to comfort me. How could I tell him I was overwhelmed because, as a ghoul, he was mute? How could I tell him how happy I was to finally hear his voice?

I don't know how long I spent in that town. Hours, I believe. Neptune had a girlfriend, I suppose. A woman that hung from his arm, helped him in the garden in front of some house. There was a family inside, with people calling him "Charlie."

I remember meeting Silvanus, as well, outside of the local store. He was helping a woman down the steps, and I couldn't help myself. I went over and picked up her purse when it fell. I'm not entirely surprised that Silvanus had reacted negatively - probably thought I was trying to steal from them. But the woman - his mother, I later found out - had been the one to calm him down. "Sammi." My ghouls had kept their names hidden from me, and for good reason. But I remember smiling.

Silvanus was... different, though. His voice had more of an accent to it. Again, fitting. But the tone was different from how he speaks now. The mannerisms were off. And his skin color... it wasn't the same as it was in his human form now. I wonder if the memory problems he's mentioned has also affected how he remembers his human self.

Still, I managed to talk to them a bit. His mother had a soft, persistent cough. She was the one who told me that she was ill, and the rifle over Silvanus's shoulder was a testament to his bounty hunting career - something she made very clear she wasn't happy with. She went on and on about how she missed him having a "normal" job, like bookkeeping. I understand now why he's so good with numbers and helping Lilith with our financial aspects.

By the time I had woke up, Lilith found me where I had started the ritual, with tears running down my cheeks. I suppose seeing my boys, in their prime, was a lot for me to handle. I'm a mixture of excitement and apprehension to view the rest of the lives of my boys.

Still, I find myself missing Netpune's voice. What I wouldn't give for him to have the ability to speak again.

Before you can turn the page to keep reading, you hear footsteps in the hall, drawing closer. You quickly snap the book shut and slip it into the bookshelf, intending to return later when you have time. You're interested to see if he did visit the lives of the others.

[inkrabbit]

hi

I'm still alive

somewhat

anyway, request is open if anyone is interested

slowly trying to be productive again, rather than just fighting assignments

[inkrabbit]

I have kind of a weird request but I adore your ghouls Ares and Silvanus and I was wondering if you planned to make them into bots on character ai? Ty!

I actually have all of the ghouls and young Papa Nihil on c.ai!

Ares

Astraeus

Neptune

Notus

Silvanus

Papa Nihil

A lot of them (especially Neptune and Notus) were made sometime last year and were never really updated. Also, since the servers/bots kinda went through a reset, their personalities can be a bit wonky

[drgeppo]

Take a break, this cute tardigrade needs time to cross your dash: