(bonus Prompt 10) "shut Up I'm Taking Care Of You"

I woke up with this in my head. Aether leaves, Dew and Mountain struggle in their own ways.

Cw: angst, hurt/comfort

He waits until it's silent, until everyone is locked away in their rooms and nothing fills the air except for his heavy, uneven breathing. He tiptoes silently, skips the spots that creak, the ones that would scream out in the silence, letting everyone know he's broken and bleeding out every single night.

He tries not to look at Dew's door as he passes. He aches for his closeness, for his understanding but he can't make himself knock to ask for it. Not when Dew still smells like grief and heartbreak, like a cauterized wound still smoking. It's still too soon, ripped open and still bleeding and Mountain refuses to add his pain to the pilar Dew's currently buried under.

He keeps his eyes down and holds his breath, praying he won't hear him crying because he knows he can't fix him, not this time.

And it's a cold steel blade, a frozen lake in his lungs because it had been them, for so long it was them. They kept each other together when the others left, willingly or ripped away by force, they still stood and had each other.

But it wasn't enough and the goodbye was unexpected and more painful than the others. He had listened to Dew beg, sobbing on his knees to try to make him stay and Mountain couldn't do anything but stand and shake and remind himself to breathe. In and out. In…..and out.

He stops at the end of the hall, glares at the closed door and wants to demand it tell him that it was a lie, just a sick joke. But it stays closed and cold and empty. He slides down to sit beside it, not daring to look inside. He can't face the barren space, the echoing lack of life between those walls.

Traces of Aether are still on the air here and he breathes them in and holds them in his lungs and hopes it's enough to keep him there, at least the memory, the quickly fading sound of his voice, his laugh…

He sobs with his head in his hands, silently breaking in the gloom of the empty hallway. He tugs his hair, his ears, trying to remind himself that he's still here despite it all, he still feels but fuck he wishes he didn't…

He creeps back to his room after he's drained, after the tears run out and his throat hurts from keeping himself quiet, there are teeth marks in his fist and maybe another piece of himself missing, left there on the floor outside of Aether's room helplessly trying to crawl under the door to find him.

Sleep doesn't come, it rarely does. He stares up into the blackness of his room until his eyes burn, trying to put a face to the shadows, trying to find little flickering lights of magic in the corners to tell himself Aether still cares, that he's still willing to offer the comfort he once had but there's nothing. Just black staring back at him.

Mountain slips outside just as the sun starts to rise, silently fleeing to the greenhouse because he's not ready to face any of them with puffy bloodshot eyes, not ready for them to know that he's broken. They need to be there for Dew, he can't take that focus away.

He works until he can't anymore, running from his thoughts until he's too tired and they catch him. He doesn't remember hitting his knees, doesn't remember dropping the watering can and soaking the earth around his knees, doesn't remember covering his face and screaming into his hands because why? Why do they always leave? Why can't he make them stay? Why?

It hurts more than there are words for, and his arms wrap around his middle like maybe he can hold himself together as he rocks back and forth, trying to remember to breathe but what's the point when each breath just tastes like loss, like lies.

He doesn't hear the door open and by the time he realizes he's not alone it's too late, he can't hide it now, too far gone to even attempt to compose himself.

“Mountain…”

Dew's voice is fractured, rough from lack of use and hardly even over a whisper but Mountain's heart jumps regardless. He doesn't turn his head, he can't, Dew will shatter if he sees just how much pain Mountain's in.

“Mountain.” And maybe it's the only word he remembers right now and maybe Mountain shouldn't feel some kind of comforted by hearing it, but he does. He still doesn't look but he can hear Dew moving to sit on the bench. “Come here.”

Dew doesn't rush him, just lets the words hang in the space between them until Mountain's able to make them make sense. He struggles with the choice, stay planted where he is, kneeling in the mud with tears still dripping down his cheeks…or turn and crawl towards something that feels like home, no matter how broken it may be.

He crawls toward home, feels each little stone in his palms as he goes and he doesn't look up, he can't and knows Dew has to understand. If anyone understands it has to be him.

Dew watches him all but drag himself across the floor and he wants to grab him, to pull and tug until he's close enough to hold but he won't, he'll wait and meet Mountain where he is. Tears well up when he's close enough to lay his head on Dew's lap, his long arms wrapped around his leg, shaking as he holds on as tight as he can.

Dew runs his fingers through his hair, blinking against the tears, hating himself for his selfishness, hating that he'd left Mountain all alone with nothing but his thoughts and fears.

“It's ok.” He hears himself say it, feels the shape of each word and wonders if he actually believes that.

Mountain doesn't. Not yet. “No it's not.”

And he doesn't argue because Mountain hurts and he's allowed to hurt, but he's still here and so is Dew. He rests his palm against Mountain's cheek, letting him feel the warmth, a reminder of a still beating heart, a reminder that he's not going anywhere, at least not without one hell of a fight.

“You're right, it's not ok.” He lifts Mountain's face gently to look at him, to lock eyes to seal his promise. “But it will be. We will be.”

their combined powers were too great. he never stood a chance. rip king.

Some sad kinda fucked Ifrit thoughts because I woke up and they came

Cw; Substance Abuse, Sex as a coping mechanism, and just kinda general sads.

Nothing graphic said but still putting those ^

Ifrit

Big, Strong, oh so stupid Ifrit.

That's what was thought of him. A muscle head who fucked hard, partied hard, and got fucked up without a care.

An easy fuck and go without connections, without having to stick around after sorta thing

That isn't who he was though.

This was all learned behavior because it's what got him the attention he craved, any sense of being useful, cared about even if it was only because his body was useful

He loved and hated every single second of every single hookup, high, and any other thing that got him out of his head

If he wasn't happy he wasn't useful, if he didn't stay the persona they all knew he wouldn't be liked, if she showed just how broken inside he truly was he'd lose everything and everyone he had, no matter how superficial he needed the attention

It didn't matter if it was a vicious cycle of regrets, and horrible sleepless night, bad highs and.. thoughts he shouldn't have. Couldn't have

It was all he had now

His pack was broken.

His pack hated him after he left.

He never bothered to try and reconnect, why would he.

Aether, Mountain, and Dew stayed with the band, Zephyr never spoke to him, Mist was long gone to be with the lake.

He couldn't bother any of them with this.

With him.

He left the pack, he left the band, that was his choice. He left the only people who cared about him and for what? To go and be whatever he was now?

Yes.

Even when he knew he could possibly rekindle something he didn't. Shoved those feelings down and shoved more substance down his throat.

He didn't deserve it.

Didn't deserve to have that happiness.

That comfort.

Ifrit used to be the most caring, lovable golden retriever there was.

Always following someone's trail, loving on them, and doing every favor he could

His pack loved him

He loved his pack

Now a days he's nothing more then an old dog owned by a family long since grown.

One that's waiting for the first excuse to be put down despite all the love it has left to give.

He thinks it's what he deserves.

A life of misery, and pain without comfort.

He watches his old pack in longing, the only happiness coming from seeing how happy and healthy they are

He'd do anything for them even now

He's so happy to see them thrive and love each other

Even if it also breaks his heart.

Copia military jacket, that's it that's the post

Here's my two cents on that whole issue about Per. I've been a Ghost Fan for roughly 2 years now. Some things may be new to me and stuff but let me just say a few things about the whole controversy concerning Per Eriksson. First of all, all these twitter threads dragging Per through the mud are unreasonable. I feel like all of you wish to interpret more into something that is not really a problem. Let me remind you that he has been rarely active on social media up until recently, from what I have grasped. I also think that in the past few months there has been a huge increase in forcing people to state their stance on certain topics, mainly political topics. I am aware of the fact that it is important to raise awareness to the pain of defenceless and vulnerable people, even better so if you are a public person. BUT. From my point of view, Per seems to be somewhat of a "shy" and maybe also a cautious person (hence why he is not that active on social media), even though it may be not the appropriate terms to describe him. Him not actively stating he is against a war does not mean he does not care about what's going on. Please realise that there are people indeed who do not want to mix their music and band stuff with political issues. Per is not a politician to owe you a statement regarding anything. If he wants to speak out, he is gonna do it but do not force him to do that. I feel like people want to interpret things that are actually unsaid as something worse than death. I also get that there a controversies surrounding his girlfriend. I've heard about the allegations against her and I do hope Per knows what is best for him. People tend to forget he is a grown man who is capable of deciding for himself. And we should all respect his decisions ,at least, if we cannot respect the privacy of his.

I haven't watched the whole live stream only a few snippets, but from what I've seen is that Per seems to be a soft spoken, friendly being who wouldn't hit a fly with the newspapers.

Again, it's just my take on this whole situation. I am neither defending someone nor do i pass a harsh judgement upon someone I actually do not know.

Enjoy the music and stay friendly.

Hi, hello, it's me again! How are you? I have a rather odd request (at least from my perspective) that I don't actually see much of.

Trans ftm Dew x Swiss? Pretty please? I haven't seen much of it, at least with Swiss that is

-🌟

Hi hi! Sorry it’s been a while, but I’ve saved this for mushy may!

I’m doing well my icon. Not an odd request at all! (But I do love and encourage odd) and obv we love trans ghouls over here

Day 8- sex turning into making love - Swissdew

As always thank you to @forlorn-crows for the prompts and @ghuleh-recs for the banner (:

Warnings for a small amount of degro. This is smut. But obv Swiss is super sweet at the end ok I promise it turns into fluff

There were certain things about Swiss that dew tended to crave.

A sick need for a harsh and loving hand, to be made to feel small, lesser. To be put out of his own head and taken care of when he felt especially out of control of himself. Dew liked to fight for it, so he himself didn’t have to admit he needed help. And Swiss always knew exactly what he needed. He was always there to force him into submission when dew couldn’t disassemble that roadblock himself.

“Maybe if you didn’t whine like a bitch droplet I wouldn’t have to treat you like one” Swiss laughed, watching as dew squirmed when Swiss ran two fingers along his folds. The slightest touch to his clit made him clench and screw his eyes shut, sensitive and already abused.

It’s how Swiss always got him before allowing dew the privilege of being actually fucked. Writhing, begging to be full but shying away from any contact because it was always borderline too much. Dew loved it, needed to be forced out of his head and put at Swiss’ mercy in order to genuinely stop thinking for an hour or two.

“Think you’ve earned it yet?” Swiss coos, sucking on dews release that threatened to drip down his fingers. “Are you dumb enough to get my cock yet baby boy?”

“Please-“ dew moaned, strangled and barely coherent.

Swiss can’t deny him like this. Hes pretty, spread out and desperate. Small tears cling to his lashes and threaten to fall down his face as he digs his fists into the bed sheets when Swiss finally pushes in.

There’s always a strange sense of pride that wells in Swiss’ chest when he has dew in his bed. He’s more than glad dew trusts him enough to let go of his own ego and inhibitions to allow Swiss to be in control. He deserves to be taken care of, even if dew usually insisted he enjoyed being somewhat of a loner when it came to needing anything.

“God you’re beautiful like this dew” Swiss mumbles when he bottoms out before he can think twice about it. His tone is calm, loving, a gentleness that isn’t expected and leaves dew feeling dizzier than he already was.

“What?”

“You’re just -“ Swiss starts, staring down at dew with what can only be described as infatuation.

The harsh grip on dews hips soften, thumbs soothing over the more than likely bruised skin. His hands more than engulf his waist, just slightly kneading into where they hold him.

“I love you, you know that?” Swiss pulls out, watching as dew gasps and throws a palm over his mouth to stifle his whine. He leans over to kiss dew on the chest, trailing up along his neck. Dews thighs are pushed up against his abdomen, practically bending him in half as Swiss starts to fuck him in earnest.

“Kiss me- Swiss please need your lips” dew whimpers as his hands tangle in Swiss’ locs for some sense of grounding. Swiss happily obliges, capturing dews mouth with his own.

Their lips slot together perfectly, dew tasting of smoke and spice as he always does. Something about the neediness in how sloppy dew forces his mouth onto Swiss’ makes his stomach do flips, a sweet tinge of desperation in his panting breaths when they have to pull apart.

Swiss fucks him slow, hitting him deep but showing dew a gentle courtesy he knows he doesn’t get extremely often.

“Faster” dew cries, Swiss can feel a gush of slick around his cock when dew clenches down.

“Wanna take my time with you droplet, let me savor having you like this”

Idk if i’m looking for things that don’t exist or something, or if i’m really late to this realization cause i haven’t interacted with ghost content too much in like a year, but i noticed that sodo almost always gets called dewdrop in fics, but on social media and irl, he more often than not gets called sodo.

Ppl probably already came to that conclusion but i still wanted to share cause i was happy i noticed it

-🪱

Yes!! This is a THING.

Unmasked Dewdrop actually goes by "Sodo" (or Sodomizer) in real life and has for like....15 years at least.

But there are a lot of fans who don't know that, or don't care, and have heard him referred to that way and have decided that Dew is actually Sodo.

To me, personally, it's a big ick. And it makes me uncomfortable to refer to the character as Sodo. If we're talking about the musician? He's Sodo, for sure. If it's the ghoul? Dewdrop. I just need to keep that separation. They're not the same person. Sodo plays Dewdrop. But Dewdrop isn't Sodo. Like I can't even read fanfic where he's called Sodo. It makes me feel weird.

Also everyone pronounces Sodo wrong but that's another rant for another time.

Nothing like cracking open a cold one by the pool after a long day at work

He has no right to be that way.

https://twitter.com/sodomizergirl/status/1682154072860680195

Returning the favor because GODDAMN ILL BE WATCHING THIS ON A LOOP

I just died 😳😵‍💫😵