#swiss and his guitar

[thespillwaysofyoursoul]

The lack of Swiss in the movie has driven me to create this.

I don’t know what the Ghost Chappell Roan overlap is but I hope you enjoy Super Graphic Ultra Modern Swiss.

[p1nkcanoe]

I wish you would write a fic where Swiss acts like even more of a freak with his guitar

okay i know you said his guitar, but he's had his eyes on rain's bass for a while...

i only have eyes for you

[ swiss x rain's bass ]

summary: swiss has had his eye on rain's bass for a while. tonight he finally gets the chance to show her how a bass like her should really be treated. warnings: grinding, masturbation, objectophilia (object attraction) word count: 1366

now on ao3 as it's own ficlet collection... make of that what you will.

(once again, please don't yell at me for the guitar stuff, i know nothing about playing or handling instruments, i just write strange porn…) 

It had been a long time coming. So many tour dates, so many rehearsals and practices, so many late nights listening to her sing in his room, cradled by slimmer, familiar hands… So many years. He’s yeared for her for years, and now, she’s finally his. Smooth. Pearly white with that black pickguard as dark and as clear as the night sky, shining under the light of the moon and smothered in the love and devotion that she really deserves. 

Rain’s bass. 

In Swiss’ hands. 

Just for one night. 

She’s heavier than he’d thought she’d be. Strong and sturdy in all of the right places–solid. Almost unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. He tries not to think about the one he loves most, locked away in her case someplace else, as he pulls this other woman into his lap–her back pressed nice and flush to his chest–this isn’t about her. Tonight is reserved for one special girl… 

Swiss looks out over the abbey grounds from their secret spot on one of the many balconies, high up above the surface of the earth and far from where his packmates and his papa sleep peacefully, blissfully unaware of their taboo rendezvous, watching as the fireflies make themselves known with flashing lights of brilliant green and yellow before they disappear back into the darkness of the night. Bathed by the pale light of the moon and the burning stars, he smooths his large hands over her body, feeling her curves and memorizing her dips and flares while his lips ghost gently over her head, taking in her sweet, woody scent and masking the one that deeply taints her surface. Cloves, rich, red wine, and tobacco. It won’t last past morning once he returns her to where she stays stored away, but for now she belongs to someone else. 

He noses at her shiny tuning keys and hums, turning her slightly in his hands to reach where her strings stretch tight around her dark string posts. When his tongue darts out and tastes, he can’t help the noise that escapes him. It’s low, drawn out from the throat, and dripping with his overflowing lust. He leaves a little behind on her hardware and leaves her shining with his saliva. He plans to see the reflection of the stars etched onto her glassy surface. 

“Would you like that?” he asks, his voice low, barely a whisper. There’s a nice roughness in his tone. He knows she likes that. They usually do. “If I covered you in my saliva until you shined with the light of the stars and the moon?” 

One of his hands migrates inward toward where she’s been patiently waiting, and he dips the tip of his middle finger between her strings, plucking the smallest bit to make her hum, nice and low. Beautiful. 

“I knew you would. You’re not used to being treated like this, are you?” 

He dips in again. Plucks at another. She hums, this time a little louder. A little richer. 

“Does Rain ever treat you like this?” 

Does Rain hear you purr like this when he tickles you? When he plays with your strings on stage? Does he appreciate you quite like I do?

The hand not tickling her strings drops to her round bottom and he wraps his fingers around her lower edge, using the heel of his hand to press her right into where he needs her most. Right into where he’s generously tenting the front of his pants. The pressure makes him groan and a pleasure-filled sensation runs through his veins–slow and lazy like honey–beginning in his balls and ending at the tips of his toes, the top of his head… He lays a lingering kiss to her headstock. 

“Spoil you?” 

His finger plucks on her A string and she whispers back to him, too soft for him to hear. 

“Pleasure you?” 

He plucks again, more insistent this time, and she repeats herself, this time much louder–not to be missed or mistaken in his ears. The vibrations from her voice go straight to his dick and the ghoul shudders, bowing his head against the back of her smooth neck to keep from grinding filthy against her body. 

Somewhere in the distance a frog croaks and a heron answers. They’re watching, gossiping back and forth in their language about what they’re witnessing, but Swiss doesn’t care. No, not at all. 

Let them watch, he thinks. 

Let them tell every land-dwelling and aquatic organism about what is happening on this sacred night. Let them spread what real love looks like, what it means to be a man pleasuring a woman.. Showing her her worth, worshiping her beauty, her body, her voice… 

Let them speak. Let them watch. 

He presses her closer, ruts his hips against her backside when she goes quiet and still and kisses up her golden neck with spit-slick lips. His fingers have stopped plucking at her strings and instead have slipped between them, curling four careful fingertips around her G string. She squeezes him right back and forces him right up against her body. Right up against her cool, smooth belly. 

“Ohhh,” he moans, his lips curling up into a devilish smile. “You’re tight, darling.” 

He pulls suddenly and lets go right as a moth flutters away into the night, but he’s quick to grab her again at the same string and soak up her vibrations with his fingers. She rings and vibrates until she calms again, goes quiet, and Swiss can’t help the way that he throbs. 

“He’s got you tuned perfectly, I bet. If we had more time together I’d loosen you up. Really let you feel it–feel me. But not tonight,” he sighs, more than disappointed, and drops his chin to lick up the uneven side of her neck and feel as her frets drag one by one over his tongue. Rough. Metallic. If he’s not careful she’ll cut him. He’d willingly let her if she’d let him leave his mark on her surface. Let it soak into the wood like a tattoo. But even like this, with her pressed so perfectly against him, he knows who she must ultimately go back to… Whose room she sleeps in at night… 

“Can’t take you back letting the other guy know what happened tonight, can I? We’ll have to leave you just as you are. Tight. Too tight…” 

He pulls at her string again, this time harder than any of the previous times, and she sings so loud, so gorgeous for him, and he sings right back with a slack jaw and sticky pre leaking into the fabric of his boxers. 

When he leans back and pulls her with him, laying her flat against his chest, he pretends that it was her idea. 

The stone he lays on is frigid through the fabric of his shirt. 

“You want him to know?” He chuckles and lets his eyes flutter closed as the vibrations course through her and settle deep into his balls. The hand on her bottom trails up her side, through her dips and back up where her body flares out again, and he grabs her right over her neck, squeezing in all of the right places, plucking her strings with the tips of his fingers in quick succession with no particular pattern but to please her. What he says next comes out in a hiss. The hand on her neck tightens. He swears he can hear her gasp. 

“You want to get me in trouble.” 

She doesn’t object. He plucks at her again and moans when she responds so perfectly to his fingers. 

“You’re filthy, but that’s our secret, isn’t it, sweetheart?” 

He looks up into the void just as a star carves a path across the universe and something warm blooms in his belly and twists, red hot. The desire under his skin will devour him. The star curves over the edge of the globe and dissipates behind the clouds. Even the cosmos, he thinks, believe this is the way that it should be. 

His filthy little secret… A guitar that doesn’t even belong to him… 

He’ll make sure she’s shining and right back in her case by morning. 

[p1nkcanoe]

we are so back

hey lovely, where’s swiss and that goddamn guitar 🩷🩷

💥 💳 💥 💳 💥💳 /j

OKAY OKAY I FEEL THREATENED

PINK WHY IS SWISS X GUITAR A FUCKING TAG

ALSO GO AND READ PINKS FIC

[yesandpeeps]

Impera Ghouls as bugs 🪲

Swiss: Cicada

Cirrus: Spider

Mountain: Cricket

Cumulus: Moth

Sunshine: Bee

Aurora: Silverfish

Aether: Scarab beetle

Aeon: Mantis

Rain: Dragonfly

Dewdrop: Wasp

[gravehags]

getting your mouth fucked by swiss just him groaning and biting his lip as he fists your hair and pushes himself further in til you’re gagging and drooling and he’s looking down and telling you how gorgeous you look and how good you’re taking him and how he can’t wait to cum down your throat 🥴

[atmosghoul]

Swiss fucking his guitar,,,,you agree. Reblog

[p1nkcanoe]

HE’S- HE’S- OH MY FUCKING GOD HE’S LITERALLY RUBBING IT LIKE A — AND GRINDING ON IT ARE YOU SERIOUS 😭😭😳

I would like to dedicate this video I took to @p1nkcanoe and her recent Swiss ficlet

[laceghost]

More Swiss! Yeah!!!!

[owlghuleh]

Oh boy does he love that guitar

[swisscheeseghoul]

i know the ghouls masks are probably made to fit each of them specifically.. but like imagine if they decided to one day wear each other’s masks to fuck with us..

not me also immediately running to angst with this idea- them wearing each other’s masks so copia doesn’t know who is stabbing him in the back when they kill him-

[moony-ghoul]

i wanna become a guitar

…

for no reason in particular

[p1nkcanoe]

Anyone Who Knows What Love Is (Will Understand)

[ Swiss x his Guitar ]

Summary: Swiss really loves his guitar... x Warnings: objectophilia (object attraction), masturbation Words: 1097

for @spoiledleaff bc they spawned this into my brain

Click here to read on Ao3 or read below:

She’s as beautiful as the day he first laid eyes upon her. All sleek, black curves and silver accents. She shines, spotless from vigorous care and cleaning, and now here, laying out before him, she’s as beautiful as ever. 

Swiss can hardly contain himself. He’s been thinking about her all day. Ever since practice when he’d pulled her from her case and ran his fingers over her strings, over her frets, she’s been on his mind. He couldn’t get her out of his thoughts. How nicely she’d sung for him and how easily she’d tuned when he’d squeezed his fingers over her pegs… she’d practically been begging him to treat her right. And that was exactly what he planned to do. 

He runs a finger over the silver edge of her body and feels the chill of the air in her hardware. She waits patiently for more of his touch. He’s more than eager to give her some. 

Swiss leans over her body, places his big palms on either side of her heel and presses into her curves, drags his hands down and down and down until he gets to the widest part of her body, and gives her a little pat on her bottom. She makes a little noise and the ghoul grins, bends at the waist to give her a kiss on her neck and dip a tip of a finger into one of her holes. 

“I know, baby,” he breathes, softly, against her neck. “I promise I won’t tease for long.” 

A purr emerges from his chest when his hand makes contact with the smooth finish of the underside of her neck. She’s always so soft there. It’s his favorite place to worship her. He teases her first with the slow drag of a single digit, then gives her a little more when he wraps his fist wholly around her fretboard and squeezes. He doesn’t hold it for long–he doesn’t want to hurt her, doesn’t want to make her nervous–and he backs off, offers his apology in the form of nosing at her head and ghosting his lips over the words etched into her surface. A fingernail traces up a string from her body to her head and she whines the entire way up. It’s a gorgeous sound. When he reaches the top, he’ll drop his hand back down and tease another just to hear it again–how it differs. He listens carefully, pays attention to every vibration to find out which string holds her sweet spot. 

Tonight it’s the D string. 

He teases it over and over again, pinches it between his fingers and plucks at it from above her core, and each time she sings for him in an entirely different tone and pitch. “That’s it, keep singing for me…” The ghoul flattens his body against the bed, careful to not lay too much of his weight on his lover, and grinds his hips squarely against the mattress. Each vocalization that she makes causes him to throb. He can feel her in his fingertips, in his hands, in his belly… She makes him hot. 

Fingers reach down between hips pressed against the mattress to undo the zipper of his pants. He struggles with one hand, refuses to break the contact with her or remove his lips from her tuning pegs to assist him in freeing himself, but eventually he does with a frustrated grunt and a shove to the fabric to bunch below his balls. He traps his cock between his stomach and the sheets and allows himself a moment to thrust and grind while feeling around the cold metal with his tongue. She tastes like sweat and metal, rich and overwhelming in his senses. She tastes like him. His cock throbs. She belongs to him. Nobody else. Him. He moans low and presses his forehead flat against her head. Air fills his lungs, eases its way back out. He needs her. 

The ghoul hisses when he forces himself away from her, lets his fingers dance over her strings as he goes just to hear her protest and beg him to come back. 

Clothes hit the floor and get kicked away. He grabs her by the neck, adjusts her so that her body lines up with his own, and flips her head towards the floor. The back of her neck is smooth and cool against the scorching skin of his cock. He leaks already. She’s so sexy like this–waiting patiently for his dick. He presses her right up against him and breathes out a shaky moan at the pressure. She shines with his pre. 

He moans out into the silence of his bedroom, grips her securely with a hand on her neck, the other on the bottom of her curvy bottom, and grinds. It’s an awkward angle. His dick slips from behind her neck over and over again. He tells her it’s okay, that she’s so sexy, that he loves her… She doesn’t respond with his hand around her neck but he knows she means the same. 

“Gonna lay you back down,” he says between desperate breaths. His cock grinds against the back of her body, slick and obscene. His features scrunch up in pleasure, shiny with a thin layer of sweat. His belly burns. “Need you ready. Gonna give it to you.” 

He lays her back down gently, makes sure she’s positioned perfectly so that he can play with her with one hand while the other stays pulling on his cock. She lays horizontally on the bed, face up. Swiss flicks his fingers across her strings, makes her sing softly while he gets himself ready for her. He groans, squeezes his eyes shut, spins her controls, teases her bridge… And then finally his balls tighten up and he bows in on himself, cursing through gritted teeth. 

He splatters the shiny surface with his cum, paints over the strings. His fingers dig into her holes, rub her insides exactly the way he knows she likes, and he eases her towards the edge. It’s unclear how exactly the ghoul knows when she finally climaxes, but when she does he hurls towards a second and spurts over the top of her bridge, dribbles into one of her holes. 

“Fuck, baby,” he pants, braces himself on the bed with the arm that teased her strings. “You always know how to make me cum.” 

He finishes himself off, strokes his cock until it screams with overstimulation, and just to finish her off he hits the head over her sloppy hardware and makes her sing one last time.

check out more of this idiot and his guitar here

[p1nkcanoe]

LOOOK AT THAT GHOUL AND HIS GIRLFRIEND

they’re so in love (I want what they have)

Thinking about Swiss and his guitar because of @p1nkcanoe and her stupid (means- absolutely awesome I’m losing my mind) fic

I realized two things while drawing this, 1.: I have a thing for Swiss’ hands and 2.: I’m holding guitars every fucking day and it’s still hard af to draw them//

[emptymasks]

They're done! I really want to try and make prints again as it's been years and I've never felt like I was very good at making whole posters. Dipping my toe back in with these silly chibis of each Papa with every Ghoul they've had. Perhaps they can also work as a guide for those wanting to learn all the characters? I added in a fair amount of little references with the Ghoul's poses so it'll be interesting to see what you guys figure out and notice!

The prints are on pre-order and won't ship out until November. I've put up 25 of each to start with but if they get low on stock I'll keep adding more until I have them printed and then it'll be a set amount in stock.

Also a reminder about the stickers of every Ghost Papa and Ghoul that I made earlier this year that are also available as customisable badges! Thank you so much to everyone who already bought them and got Etsy to list them as a 'bestseller' for a while. They're still up and in stock.

EDIT: someone informed me Delta was not in Secondo's era so sorry little water ghoul but he got edited out of that drawing.

Characters featured on the prints and are also available on stickers and badges: Papa Emeritus I / Primo, Papa Emeritus II / Secondo, Papa Emerirus III / Terzo, Papa Emeritus IV / Cardinal Copia, Aether, Air, Alpha / Fire, Aurora, Chain / Water, Cirrus, Cowbell, Cumulus, Delta, Dewdrop / Sodo, Earth, Ifrit, Ivy, Lake, Mist, Mountain, Omega / Quintessence, Pebble, Phantom, Phil / Special Ghoul, Rain, Sunshine, Swiss, Zephy.

I can’t link to my Etsy without risking Tumblr hiding the post from tag search results, but the link is in my pinned post, my carrd, I’m emptymasks on Etsy. Reblogs help support artists more than likes ❤️

[ID: Four landscape drawings, one for each of Ghost's Papas and the Ghouls that were in the band with them while they were the lead singer. Each Papa is in the center with each of their ghouls standings to their sides. Every character has their name written above or below them, on brightly coloured backgrounds for each Papa's robe colour. Also, individual pixel art chibi drawings of 69 characters from various European musicals (listed above) that are available as stickers. These drawings are also available as badges where they are placed inside circles to show what they will look like as physical button badges, some of them with plain colour backgrounds and some with 1-3 different pride flags as examples of how you can customise the backgrounds.]

For those who want to know what the little references in the prints are and don't want to guess, they're under the cut:

Omega can be a stompy boy when he's playing guitar, Alpha likes to throw up peace signs, Air is very found of the rock horns hand symbol, there's one close-up photo of Lake out there where you can clearly see his black sclera contacts and he's doing double 'horns' hand symbol, Mountain infamously takes his shoes off when playing the drums and leaves them on the stage at the site of his drumkit, Dewdrop likes to like.. most things including his guitar and his picks and sometimes his own hand, Pebble liked to hand out his drumsticks at the end of shows by dropkicking them into the crowd, Omega wore a flower tucked into his guitar strap during one show and Terzo constantly flirts with him more than other ghouls, Delta is suspected to be the ghoul that attempted to kick an audience member off stage when they climbed onstage and attempted to kiss Terzo, Zephyr was the only band member and only keyboardist who sat down while playing, the special ghoul played by Tobias wore a nametag 'Phil' in an interview, Swiss constantly is showing all his teethies with his smiles and always wiggling and moving around, Aether and Dewdrop often interact with Dew teasing/bothering Aether, Dew and Rain also often interact with Dew constantly reaching to grab his neck and attempt to kiss him, aaaand I think that's everything I intentionally included other than just generally tried to get the poses and expressions to match the personality we've seen from each ghoul.

[sp0o0kylights]

Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset. 

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it. 

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud. 

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.  

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds. 

Still.

 Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink. 

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations. 

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say. 

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’ 

Nope. 

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’ 

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure. 

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake. 

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them. 

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through. 

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing. 

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.  

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse. 

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something. 

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here. 

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may. 

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?” 

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house. 

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.  

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him. 

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.” 

Likely a lot of things. 

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it. 

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

 ‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give. 

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.” 

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice. 

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked. 

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle. 

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat. 

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth. 

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.) 

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?” 

Wayne nodded once, slow-like. 

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again. 

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?” 

“I did.” 

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say. 

Wayne took advantage. 

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.” 

“‘Bout trust.” 

Eddie blinked at that. 

“Trust.” He echoed flatly. 

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--” 

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.” 

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him. 

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.” 

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway. 

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with. 

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.” 

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like. 

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns. 

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.” 

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.” 

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had. 

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.” 

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.” 

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.” 

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through. 

Wayne sat with him as he processed. 

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did. 

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked; 

“What if he finds out?”  

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home. 

It took Wayne  a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret. 

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over. 

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly.  It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself. 

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved. 

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’ 

“He won’t.” Wayne said. 

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.” 

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side. 

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other. 

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest. 

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose. 

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine. 

Hurt, absolutely, but alive. 

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body. 

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol. 

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door. 

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch. 

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.  

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible. 

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup. 

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him. 

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely. 

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior. 

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.) 

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!” 

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it. 

Wayne rolled his eyes. 

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door. 

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries. 

“I think I promised you a game, son.”  Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall. 

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.

[damagedghoulette]

I can’t believe that not long ago I couldn’t tell the ghouls apart and now I’m like-

Yup! That’s Rain, our little Bambi legged princess with the cake

Yup! That’s Swiss, acting like a feral cat in heat.. awe look at him grind on the floor

Yup! That’s Mountain, our gorgeous giant with the sexiest fucking upper arms, fucking hell look at him bang those drumsss

Yup! That’s Phantom, our little bug who breaks the strings on his guitar and seems to be learning moves from Dewdrop and Swiss..

Yup! That’s Dewdrop, white horns.. tiny.. also an asshole with nice hands