Coulduseprozac - Whatever

Definitely need more Cowbell

little bit of AlphaBell~

Mushy may prompt list by the wonderful @forlorn-crows

Day 20: gardening

I was sad and this image came to me so here we are. Also the last prompt I'm doing for this one, it was fun 🖤

Mountain/Dew a touch of angst from Dew but he's ok

Dew nervously twists the toe of his shoe in the loose little pebbles of the path just outside of the greenhouse. It feels weird, like standing in front of a shell of a home he used to live in, like a ghost keeping to the shadows, hoping to not be caught so it's allowed to stay.

This used to be his favorite place, one of the first he got comfortable in after he was summoned. He couldn't count the hours he spent down here with Mountain, smiling, laughter dissolving into make outs and rosy cheeks. They are memories he doesn't think about often, his shadow in the images bleeding into Rain's shape, seeing him fit so perfectly where Dew once had.

He doesn't regret his transition but there were losses all the same. This one stings though, a nagging little papercut that persists no matter how much time passes.

He loved this place. He loved Mountain in this place, he loved how he had Mountain in this place, just the two of them.

Nothing was stopping him from going down, not really. Nothing apart from his own mind, how it flashed with flames when he thought of going in, how he worried to touch the plants he used to help nourish, terrified he'd burn their little leaves to ash. Afraid he'd do the same to Mountain.

He knew it was stupid. He'd been with Mountain countless times since the transition but there is something about the greenhouse that feels like he just....can't cross that line he drew in the sand.

"Dew?"

He jumps at Mountain's voice, so lost in his own thoughts he hadn't heard him opening the door and wandering out partially. His hands are dirty and Dew misses the grit against his skin when Mount would guide him through repotting a little sprout.

"Sorry...shit sorry I just I'm...I'm-"

"Coming in this time?" He sounds hopeful, painfully so and when Dew risks it all and meets his eyes they're bright, almost begging without words.

He glances between the giant and the glass structure behind him, the warm air inside and the dim little fairy lights inviting...

"I..."

"S'ok." Mountain smiles, just a little thing, reaching his hand out as he backs into the greenhouse.

He takes a hesitant step forward, like maybe the earth outside the entrance is boobie trapped for him. He grabs Mountain's hand with his breath and heartbeat both trapped in his throat when Mountain tugs him softly over the threshold.

It all floods back to him. The smells, the humid air, the way Mountain feels different here.

"Take your time." Mountain doesn't drop his hand but he doesn't pin him with his eyes either, focusing instead on some little bunch of flowers that still have little drops of water clinging to their delicate petals.

He thinks of Rain, thinks of his gentle touch, thinks of his own hands and how much he loved this, how Mountain would smile just for him and he would turn to face him like a little bloom chasing the sun.

"I shouldn't...I shouldn't be in here."

"Why?"

"It's just not mine anymore. I can't give them anything." He clears his throat hoping his words don't shake. "It's Rain's now."

Mountain tilts his head, his ears drooping a bit. "Do you know the very first thing Rain does every single time he's in here?"

And obviously he doesn't! He shakes his head and Mountain grabs his hand, pulling him off to plants that are thriving along one of the walls.

"He comes to these because you planted them. Out of everything in here, these are his favorite because you took care of them."

"But-"

"No but. You've never not belonged here. I understand why you stopped, why maybe it felt different but different doesn't mean wrong, it certainly never meant unwelcome."

Dew wants to turn into Mountain's chest but he doesn't, his hands shake as he lets the words sink in as his eyes stay glued to the plants he had loved so much because Mount had taught him how.

"I know the things you think about yourself Dew." He squeezes his fingers, pulls his knuckles up to kiss them. "I know what you're afraid these hands will do, but I know them. I know you."

Dew let's himself look at his hands and he knows he knows how to be gentle, how to touch with softness and care. He loves more often than he bruises but the fear still simmers just under his skin that one day he will lose control of what he is and he will be helpless to stop it.

"Come here, I want to show you something."

Dew let's Mountain lead him off, cocking his head when the giant stops in front of a bed of succulents.

"Is this your way of calling me a prick?" His lips twitch with the possibility of a smile.

Mountain laughs and shakes his head, the tension easing off his face. "No you ding dong!"

Dews glad for the distraction, the laughter between them standing here feels so familiar and he hadn't fully realized just how much he actually missed it.

"I started growing them after your transition. I...I needed something that felt like you in here, I needed something to show you..."

"Show me what?"

"That you don't need your water to be beautiful." His eyes drift from one of the little cactus flowers just starting to bloom among the spikes it sits on to Dew's eyes.

Dew lifts up onto his toes and kisses him. Mountain's big dirty hands slot against his back perfectly, fitting just right the way they always did. Hes dizzy with the memories, a welcome sort of deja vu as he melts against Mountain.

Mountain smiles when they break apart, fingers brushing Dew's hair back, cheeks pink.

"Welcome back, droplet."

Available for pre-order on Apple

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

SOUND THE DREAD ALARM!!! ☠️

Per’s first live. I could not watch the whole thing, but what I saw was pretty sweet. Got to see him cuddle his dog🤍

****DISCLAIMER****

I currently don’t care if Per is controversial in his dating practices. He seems like a decent guy in and of himself and it’s none of our business who he dates.

I’ve recently already been heartbroken to find out ONE of my heroes turns out to be a gaslighting jackass, and life has objectively SUCKED for me on a daily basis anyway, so yeah, please miss me with any Sodo controversy, right now. Thanks.

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 😳😵‍💫😵

Sleepy extra cuddly Phantom with his first time sleeping in bed with either Dew or Swiss

CW: Swiss x Phantom cuddling, a mention of Swiss x Rain, polyghouls, and also a NS/FW mention

“Swiss.”

At first, it’s nothing more than a voice in his dream. Calling out, gentle but insistent. 

“Swiss. Wake up.” 

How kind. Whoever it is must be trying to keep him from sleeping through his alarms, again. It was becoming a more and more common occurrence. Copia looked at the end of his ropes most days. The grey hairs used to be a funny joke. Now there was simply too many to count. 

“Swiss!”

That next one is punctuated by a hearty nudge against his broad, bare shoulders. He can feel the mattress shift with it. 

“What?” Swiss asks. It comes out sounding far less like English than he hoped. 

“Can I sleep with you?” Now that the voice is saying more than just his name, it sounds more familiar to Swiss’ sleep addled brain. It still takes a moment. 

The newbie. Phantom. 

Weird. When the multi ghoul reaches his palm across the sheets to Rain’s spot on the bed it’s completely cold. He never came to bed. One of the others must have whisked him off elsewhere. Hopefully fucked into the best nights sleep he’s ever had. The thought makes Swiss purr. 

From behind him, Phantom lets out an unsure sound. “Is that… a yes?” 

“Is Copia busy?” Swiss mumbles. More out of curiosity than argument. 

The new guy shifts. The shirt he has on barely covers his shoulders, slipping down to one side. Its so threadbare. He can taste Aether’s scent on the roof of his mouth from there. “Papa… uh… I just wanted to ask you. I don’t know. If it’s weird I can-“ 

“Yeah, sure. C’mere.” Swiss says. It’s an easy decision. Phantom fits against him like a second skin in the day to day. Rehearsals are fun, hanging out afterwards is even better. Anything he throws at the new bug is met with unbridled enthusiasm. 

When Phantom finds his way into the bed, Swiss doesn’t hesitate to fit them together there too. He tugs the new summon right against him, back to chest. He can practically hear the shudder in the ghoul’s breath. There’s a spark to the air surrounding him. Quintessence, soft yet powerful. 

“Calm down. Go to bed.” Swiss whispers against the cloud of black hair that his nose is tucked into. His tail crawls up to wrap around Phantom’s leg overtop the pajama pants he wears. 

“Okay.” Phantom croaks out, voice catching. Swiss barely hears it, falling back into a deep pattern of snores.

The new ghoul loses track of time. Slowly but surely, he finds himself able to relax. The subtle sound of Mountain’s records playing through the walls mixes with Swiss’ snores, and soon Phantom has both eyes closed, taking in the mix of scents on the pillow with a purr rolling through his throat. Falling asleep slow and easy.

𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘺 𝘋𝘢𝘺 𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦: 𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘈𝘪𝘥

Rating: T Pairing: Raindrop Word Count: 1.2k Murder Ghouls Ahead! (No actual murder, just the aftermath)

Mushy May brought to you by @forlorn-crows Divider by @ghuleh-recs

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. 

Rain sits back against the shower wall. Knees drawn up to his chest. Blood swirling down the drain. Not much. Most of it not even his. But it's enough. Enough that he feels the sting, worse is the bite of shame. Embarrassment. He should be better than this. He is better than this. It’s not like it’s his first hunt or anything. Not like he doesn’t know how to do this–hasn’t done it a thousand times. 

He isn’t sure what went wrong. 

His arm stings. He refocuses his gaze to watch blood leak from it. It’s not that bad–he’s had worse. Nothing like hunting in the pit. But it’s still a nasty gash down the the outer edge of his forearm. It’s still bleeding. It still hurts. 

There’s a sharp knock on his bathroom door. Rain flinches. Ignores it. He doesn’t understand why no one in this place understands what a locked door means. 

“Rain.” 

It’s Dew, voice sharp. Tipping up with worry. Rain wonders if he saw the mess he left by the late–too in shock to even finish his meal or dispose of it properly. Sloppy. He tucks his head into the circle of his arms. He had a knife. Since when do siblings carry knives? Maybe if Rain keeps ignoring him, Dew will go away. 

He knows better, of course. But he can hope. 

“Rain I know you’re in there.” 

Rain sighs. “I’m fine.”

“C’mon.” 

It isn’t like the door is the thing stopping Dew. He already picked the lock on Rain’s bedroom. And he hadn’t thought to lock the bathroom door too. He appreciates Dew giving him this space, but he also knows he isn’t going to be able to get rid of him. Dew can definitely smell the blood–the shame–the disaster wafting through the door.  

“It’s not my blood,” Rain answers. 

The door cracks open and Rain buries his head deeper into the circle of his arms, curls up tighter. Pressed into the corner of the shower like he can disappear. Then Dew’s there. Stepping into the cool spray, fully clothed. Rain hears the hiss of the water as it hits him, evaporates. The hand Dew lays on Rain’s arm is hot. 

Rain looks up at him. He doesn’t know what Dew sees in his face–but whatever it is makes the fire ghoul blanch. He watches as Dew gnaws on his lip with a crooked fang. The sight of Rain pulls at his features. Like he’s warring with relief that Rain is alright, and worry that maybe he actually isn’t. 

“Do you want to tell me about it?” 

“Not much to tell. I picked wrong.” 

It happens sometimes. Some humans appear weaker than they are. They fight back. They scratch and claw and kick and scream. Rain, and every other ghoul who hunts, has learned to accept that–expect it even. But not knives. Not knives in the hands of people who know how to use him. 

“Did they survive?” 

Rain shakes his head. 

“Then you didn’t pick wrong.” 

There’s no denying the little flashes of anger in Dew’s voice. Not at Rain–he knows that. At whoever hurt him. Dew probably wished Rain hadn’t killed him–just so he could have had the chance to do it himself. 

“Come on, let’s get you up. The water’s cold.” 

“I like the water cold.” 

“Yeah, but I don’t.” Dew pulls on him with surprisingly strength and Rain lets himself be uncoiled. Dew doesn’t stop until Rain’s standing, looking down at the fire ghoul. Water dripping from Rain’s curls onto Dew’s upturned face. 

Dew presses a soft kiss to the space over Rain’s heart. “You’re fine.” 

Rain nods. “I told you that.” 

“I know. Still had to see it for myself. And you’re still beating yourself up about it. Shit happens.” 

“He had a knife.” 

“He doesn’t have anything anymore.” Dew laces his fingers with Rain’s and reaches around him to turn off the shower. The silence that falls after feels oppressive. Rain winces. Dew frowns just a little, the corners of that delicate mouth pulling down and despite the ache, and the shame, Rain wants to smooth those worry lines away. 

“You don’t have to do any of this,” Rain says softly. Dew reaches up to tuck a drenched curl behind Rain’s ear. Rain chooses to believe he’s doing it to stop the steady stream of icy water from dripping on his cheek. 

“I want to do this. You should have come to me.” 

Rain shrugs. “Why? It’s a scratch.” 

“A lot more than a scratch,” Dew mumbles as he inspects Rain’s arm, pressing gentle fingers to swollen sides. It’s a clean cut–a sharp knife. Deep but not too bad. Not bleeding anymore. A human would need stitches, but Rain isn’t human. “You were embarrassed.” 

Rain grimaces, thinks about lying. He keeps so many people at arm's distance–it’s easier. He’s used to being alone. He spent so much time alone in the pit. But as hard as he tries to hold Dew at a distance, he can’t. Dew doesn’t let him–Rain doesn’t even really want to. Dew’s under his skin, and Rain likes him there. 

“I don’t like fucking up.” 

Dew clicks his tongue. “You didn’t fuck up. Shit happens. Let me fix it.” 

Rain allows himself to be pulled from the shower. Dew points to the closed toilet seat and Rain sits and watches do crouch down to dig into the vanity under the sink, looking for the first aid kit. Dew’s clothes are damp–the heat of him not able to protect him from all of the water. Rain hopes that after this he can get Dew out of them–that they can curl up together in bed and watch something stupid on TV and Rain can forget about everything except the way Dew’s skin feels against his. 

He’s pulled out of his reverie by a sharp sting along the cut in his arm. Dew, cleaning it with one fo those strongly scented alcohol pads that always make Rain’s head hurt. He crinkles his nose up. 

“Sorry, it’s just for a second.”

“Stinks.” “Only you would complain about the smell instead of the pain.” Dew rolls his eyes but there’s a smile there, that worried frown finally disappearing. 

“It’s gross.” 

Dew chuckles as he slathers some cream over the cut–this thankfully doesn’t smell like anything. “Don’t want you drying out, Fishy.” 

That finally makes Rain smile. He dips his head, grinning, heat flaring through his chest–adoration more than anything else. Dew catches him looking away–catches the soft violet color rising to his cheeks. 

“There you are,” he whispers. Using the hand that isn’t covered in lotion to tip Rain’s chin up so they can look at each other.  Dew dips down to kiss him, soft, chaste.  

“Here I am,” Rain whispers, nodding. 

Dew finishes the rest with deft fingers. Pressing a pad into the wound and wrapping tight gauze around it. He pats Rain’s arm lightly when he’s done, satisfied with his work. Then his face goes sober again, serious. It’s Rain’s turn to worry his lip between his teeth. 

“Don’t scare me like that again,” Dew says, pressing his forehead into Rain’s. “Promise me.” 

He doesn’t answer, he just kisses Dew again. A little longer, a little sweater. An apology. Rain can’t promise him–all he knows how to do is run away. But it’s ok–because he knows Dew will always follow, will always find  him. Will always fix him. 

👅

Cold Me was in charge of wardrobe decisions this morning. I'm hot and Cold Me may be no longer in charge after today.

This is totally me

Be proud of the dumb, little thing you wrote, just because you wanted to write a dumb, little thing. Your writing doesn't need to be serious and award-winning for you to be proud of it.