Midamoul
Hello Hello dear. The Midamoul has been slowly growing on me. I have been thinking about them more and more lately. Anywho, I hope you enjoy my first attempt. Warning for some nondescript gore, for the simple fact that ghoul does eat dead people but they are not currently chomping in my musing, honestly, I think it turned out very sweet and kinda domestic fluff 🤷🏽♀️ Thank you for the ask! I hope you enjoy it! ♥️
When they couldn't find them, they weren't particularly mindful of it. Their presence was new and it wasn't uncommon for the two to forget the outside world. It had been just the two of them for so long that having a body once more and being on Earth was still odd sometimes and the need to speak aloud to each other was something they were still getting used to again.
"You guys are still sittin' there? Have you moved?"
Adam blinked tilting his head from where they had been resting their shared head on his palm on the sofa's armrest. He groaned, stretching as grace wound through the muscles that hadn't moved in… His eyes fell on the watch around his wrist, wondering how long they had been wrapped in each other and frowning at the unhelpful numbers.
It's only been two days.
Adam groaned and a scoff sounded from the apartment doorway. The ghoul closed the door, their bulky backpack swaying as they moved.
"Where did you go?" Adam asked, stretching out his legs over the sofa before bending them to his chest and stretching them out again as Micheal flexed grace through the tingling muscles.
Desecrating a grave, Michael rumbled. Where else does it go?
Adam's soul swatted at the grace that grumbled in return. His head turned to watch them shrug the backpack off and walking towards the kitchen.
"I was hungry. And you guys get boring," they grumbled, combing a hand back through his hair and looking through the double-wide freezer, having developed a fondness for growing hair out longer than Adam had ever let his grow.
Adam could feel the roll of grace and the smugness that clung to it. "We're not boring." He defended with a frown only to receive a flat expression from the ghoul who had paused in making room in the freezer just to look at him. "We get distracted. Micheal and I watched a movie."
The roll of their paler blue-gray eyes was a force as the ghoul opened the dirt-dusted bag to put the newly wrapped limbs into the space they had cleared. "Lightbulb and you saw a movie, so you two forget about the world for two days? Kid, you need to remember to get out." They paused carefully, placing the last wrapped dismemberment limb in the cooler and shrugging. "Probably wouldn't be bad for him either."
"It wouldn't be bad for you to stop robbing graves."
The bent-over ghoul didn't have to turn to know the archangel had spoken. "Yeah well, it's weird eating you." They closed the lid of the filled freezer, kicking the bag under the cabinet so it was almost in the place Adam had made for it. They looked up to the archangel that sat so much straighter than Adam. "You taste horrible."
Michael didn't look away from them, Adam chuckling at the insult that rolled within them. "You don't have good taste buds."
"Adam tasted just fine before you," they countered. "Still think I have bad taste buds?" The ghoul questioned, making their way back towards the sofa the shared body was sitting on.
"Of course he did," Micheal grumbled, moving his legs for the other before the ghoul sank into the cushions beside them. "And he is more than fine tasting."
Laughter rumbled from beside and within them, Adam's soul humming as he lingered behind Micheal's grace. As their laughter quieted, the ghoul shook their head before slumping over into the stiff body. Micheal didn't move, his gaze sliding to them as they got more comfortable, shifting and settling into place on his lap.
"So tell me what this movie is that absorbed you two the whole time I was gone?"
Micheal looked over at the other, a hard-pressed sigh coming from his nose. He took an inhale watching as their hands moved in dramatics before stretching and stealing the remote that was laying on the armrest.
"We weren't talking about a movie." The archangel's hands came to rest on the ghoul's longer strands of hair with a noncommittal hum, combing through it and plucking odd bits of dirt and bone from the dusty locks. "It was very dull and I wished to talk about anything else instead of watching it…. We got distracted." The old being’s gaze lifted to the screen from them watching the channels flip by. "And it was raining."
The other nodded against his lap, knowing how much Adam still didn't care for the rain. "'Suppose to be nice tomorrow. Tomorrow we'll do something," they mused a hand patting the knee their head was pillowed on. "Stay out here."
Micheal hummed, combing through the shaggy hair, glancing at them before looking towards the screen.
"Thank you," Adam hummed above them, his hand still combing through their locks.
A mumbled acknowledgment fell from their lips as they focused on the screen. A smile filled Adam's lips when their hand wrapped around his unoccupied one, pulling it closer and around themselves.
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midamoul week will run from sunday july 24 to saturday july 30
[image described in alt text]
guidelines:
tag your creations with #midamoulweek and/or @ me @midamoulweek so i can reblog them!
—feel free to @ me again if you think i’ve missed your post! but i’m offline for decent chunks of the day so please give me at least 12 hours before you hit me up
all creations are welcome—art, fic, fanvids, meta, something i’ve failed to mention—whatever floats your boat!
nsfw content is fine but i won’t be reblogging or engaging with nsfw content from people i know to be minors
creators, please use your best judgment in providing content warnings and tagging nsfw content. on this blog i will be using the tag structure “#(trigger) cw.” nsfw content will be tagged #not sfw.
if you need something specific tagged, let me know and i will do my best to add warnings as needed.
on filling prompts: i am strongly of the opinion that if you start a project while thinking about a particular prompt, you absolutely get to consider the end result to be a successful fill no matter how off-track you’ve gotten. so please share your work even if you don’t think the final product fits the brief!
feel free to shoot me an ask if you have any questions or concerns!
ETA: if you finish a day 1 prompt on day 2 or day 3 or day 14 or whatever, please post it and @ me anyway! much like the prompts, the "week" is just a framing structure to get us talking. if you make something for the week, i'm sure we'd all love to see it no matter when you're able to get it done
prompts:
each day has two prompts + a bonus prompt pulled from the quotes section of my notes app. use one, two, or all prompts to get started!
day 1 (july 24): identity / family
day 2 (july 25): forgiveness / outsider pov
day 3 (july 26): regrets / cannibalism (survival or recreational)
day 4 (july 27): resurrection / kid-fic
day 5 (july 28): date night / fix-it
day 6 (july 29): afterlife / alternate universe (i’m thinking cowboys, aliens, dare i say old-timey explorers stranded in the antartic hinterlands? —but alternate timelines&canon divergence count as well)
day 7 (july 30): resilience / storytelling
quote prompts under a cut for length
day 1:
[T]he act of imagination is bound up with memory. You know, they straightened out the Mississippi River in places, to make room for houses and livable acreage. Occasionally the river floods these places. ‘Floods’ is the word they use, but in fact it is not flooding; it is remembering. Remembering where it used to be. All water has a perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was.
—Toni Morrison
day 2:
"Somebody," said Jacques, "your father or mine, should have told us that not many people have ever died of love. But multitudes have perished, and are perishing every hour - and in the oddest places! - for the lack of it."
—James Baldwin, Giovanni’s Room
day 3:
You know what? I don't want to express myself. I don't want to sit in a room full of people and say... the P-word. I like being repressed. I am totally comfortable being uncomfortable with my sexuality. And maybe, just maybe, if everyone were a little bit more like me, we wouldn't have to have an STD fair!
— Annie Edison, Community (NBC)
day 4:
I had this habit for a long time: I used to get in my car, and I would drive back to my old neighborhood, the old town I grew up in. And I’d always drive past, like, the old houses that I used to live in. And I’d do it, sometimes late at night, if I was — when I used to be up at nights. [laughs] And I got so I would do it really regularly, for — two, three, four times a week — for years. And I eventually got to wonderin’, what the hell am I doing?
And so I went to see this psychiatrist — this is true! — and I sat down, and I said, you know, “Doc, for years, I’ve been gettin’ in my car, and I drive back to my town, and I pass my houses late at night, and, you know…what am I doing?”
And he said, “I want you to tell me what you think you’re doing.”
[crowd laughs]
So I go, “That’s what I’m paying you for!”
So he says, “Well, what you’re doing is, there’s something bad happened. And you’re going back thinking that you can make it right. Something went wrong, and you keep going back to see if you can fix it, or somehow make it right.”
And I sat there, and I said, “That is what I’m doing.”
And he said, “Well, you can’t.”
— Bruce Springsteen, introing a song apparently
day 5:
What is a ghost? Something dead that seems to be
alive. Something dead that doesn’t know it’s dead.
— Richard Siken, “Landscape with Fruit Rot and Millipede”
day 6:
But, really, it's the most basic definition of "uncanny”—"unhomely”—that matters. The haunted house is precisely that which should be homey, should be welcoming—the place one lives inside--but which has somehow become emptied out of its true function. It is terrifying because it has lost its purpose yet stubbornly persists. Neither alive nor dead but undead, the haunted house is the thing in between.
—Colin Dickey, Ghostland
day 7:
You’re old enough to understand that your father didn’t love you without being ridiculous about it.
—Tony Kushner, Angels in America
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