Coulduseprozac - Whatever

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MUSHY MAY 2024

DAY 20: GARDENING

1600 words

Phantom ghoul, mountain ghoul, Aurora ghoulette, Dewdrop ghoul, Cirrus ghoulette

Phantom and the others try to ease Mountain's stress by tidying his garden as a surprise but it doesn't go too well. Mush ensues.

Thanks goes out once again to @forlorn-crows for organising Mushy May, and also to @ghuleh-recs for making the pretty dividers 🖤🖤🖤

This ficlet was inspired by a real life scenario that happened to me just yesterday. Basically I'm Phantom 🤦

Read below or on AO3

A procession of six ghouls and ghoulettes trudged through the gardens towards the Abbey's greenhouses. They were dressed in their work gear, laden with tools and snacks and sharing banter under the late afternoon sun.

Phantom hadn’t spent too much time out here since he’d been summoned a couple of months ago for one reason or another, but he was looking forward to doing something nice for his pack mate Mountain.

The big earth ghoul had been so kind to him since he’d arrived in this strange place. It was so very different from the Pit that he’d grown up in and it was taking the young quintessence ghoul a long time to become accustomed to his new life here at the Abbey. Everything seemed to be a learning curve and Phantom often felt like a kit again when faced with the barrage of new experiences and challenges.

The rest of the pack had been supportive, of course, but Mountain especially had been very patient and understanding when Phantom messed up... Which pretty much happened on a daily basis.

He’d overheard a conversation in the common room between Cirrus and Rain. They were worried about Mountain. He hadn’t been himself lately, but Phantom wasn’t sure why.

He’d felt it from him too though. There was an innate sadness and a world weariness to him that seemed to be growing worse as the days went on. Nobody seemed to be able to figure out what they could do to help him.

The idea had been Dew’s, surprisingly. They’d all noticed the way that Mountain had been stressing about all of the springtime work that he had to do in the garden so Dew had suggested that they surprise him by going to tidy up the flower beds. If the pack did a little weeding and some of the tedious but essential maintenance jobs, then Mountain would be free to do what he loved best; planting. The garden was his pride and joy and this would hopefully take some of the pressure off him and make him more relaxed.

Swiss had been tasked with keeping Mountain distracted for a couple of hours while the rest of them got to work.

The pack reached the garden that stretched out along the long side of Mountain’s greenhouse and they made an organised pile of the things they’d brought, placing them carefully onto the wooden bench where Mountain often liked to sit and watch the sun rise.

Phantom had joined him in this peaceful activity on a regular basis when he’d woken from the nightmares that plagued him, panicked and gasping for breath. He would come aware to the comfort of a large body curled around him, kind words in his ear and calloused but gentle palms stroking soothing circles around his back.

Mountain would hold him until his heart had calmed and then lead him out into the gardens. Their morning ritual never failed to clear the fuzz from Phantom’s head and they’d sit quietly for a while, side by side, watching in comfortable silence as the dawn broke.

“Okay, if we pair up then this will work better. Cirrus and Rain, Phantom and Aurora, me and Cumulus,” Dew said, pointing to them all. “Is everyone okay with that?”

They all made noises of agreement and went off to the areas Dew had allocated to them.

Aurora put on the gloves she’d brought and handed a pair to Phantom. She looked around at their patch of garden and sighed.

“I don’t know why they put the two of us together. I’m guessing you’re just as clueless about Earth plants as I am? How are we supposed to know what isn’t meant to be here? This bit has been a bit neglected, hasn’t it?”

She was right. There were larger plants that clearly belonged, but the soil was filled with a variety of smaller, leafy plants too that could just as easily have been rare flowers as weeds.

Phantom huffed a laugh, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the phone he’d been given by Papa.

“Secret weapon,” he said, holding it up. Aurora looked confused. “Google Lens. Rain showed it to me. You take a picture of something and then Google tells you what it is. That way, we’ll know what to keep and what to get rid of.”

She eyed the phone warily for a moment and Phantom grinned at her. He was confident that they’d be fine and his confidence must have rubbed off on Aurora because she shrugged, picked up a small trowel and knelt down in the dirt.

“Sounds good to me,” she said.

It didn’t take long to realise that the two of them made a great team. They used the phone plenty of times to check what they were dealing with and after a couple of hours they had cleared the area that Dew had given them to tidy.

The pile of weeds was bigger than Phantom had anticipated. It must have been a while since anyone had done anything in this part of the garden.

Dew wandered over to them carrying cups of juice.

“Refreshments,” he said as he handed them one each. He looked at the pile of weeds they’d gathered and raised his brows. “Wow, you two have been busy!”

Phantom grinned and he felt Aurora’s pride that the two newest members of the pack had done such a good job.

Cirrus came to join them but she took one look at the pile and cursed.

“Please tell me you guys didn’t just pull up any old thing without checking what it was?”

Phantom frowned.

“Well no, we used Google Lens to check them.”

Cirrus’ eyes widened.

“I don’t think Google Lens is very reliable, guys. Mountain has some hybrids and flowers that he’s spent years on and they probably couldn’t be identified with an app.”

Phantom’s stomach dropped and he heard Aurora whine beside him.

“I... We checked them! It said they were weeds!”

He could feel panic welling up, constricting his heart when he realised what they might have done. Mountain would be devastated when he saw it. He’d be so angry that all of his hard work had been ruined.

Cirrus crouched down and picked up some of the plants that had been pulled. Phantom watched in horror as the realisation dawned on her. She held up one of the green stems. It was broken in half.

“Sorry to say, but I think these are Mountain’s petunias.” She pointed to a bare patch of earth. “They should be there.”

Phantom’s heart picked up speed and the panic bubbled up further, twisting his guts and wringing them out.

Memories of his old life in the Pit threatened to overwhelm him. Something like this would not go unpunished there and Phantom found his instincts taking over as his rational thought processes began to fail.

He turned on his heel and ran.

___

The smell of blood broke him out of it and Phantom blinked, coming back to his senses. He was curled up in a recess of earth underneath a fallen log, arms wrapped around himself. Tremors wracked his body and a sting on his cheek made him remember falling and catching it, grazing the skin.

A twig snapped close by and Phantom’s head snapped up, wide eyes searching for the threat and landing on Mountain who was walking carefully towards him.

Phantom whimpered and cowered further back towards the bark of the trunk.

“Hey, bug,” Mountain said softly. “What’s all this about? The others said you ran off in a panic.”

Phantom shifted again, not daring to take his eyes off the other ghoul and trying to reach out with his quintessential self to read his emotions and give himself some kind of warning as to what his reaction was going to be.

“I... I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! We were trying to help out. It’s my fault, we should have asked the others. Please don’t be mad at Aurora.”

Mountain stopped a few feet away and put his hands on his hips. He tilted his head and frowned, kind eyes searching Phantom’s face. He sighed, coming to a realisation.

“I’m not angry, Phantom, not angry at any of you.”

Phantom concentrated on his emotions and sure enough, he didn’t sense any anger, only sadness and relief that he’d been found.

“You’re not?”

Mountain shook his head and smiled warmly.

“Of course not. It was an easy mistake to make. You weren’t to know. I’m sure we can replant some of them. Why don’t you come out and we can go back and give it a try?”

Phantom eyed him for a moment, feeling the last tendrils of panic letting go of his heart.

Mountain crouched down in front of him and held out his hand. Phantom inhaled a deep breath and took it. It was warm and it brought him comfort, chasing away any thoughts he’d had that Mountain would hurt him for doing something wrong.

The big ghoul pulled him to his feet and then let go of his hand. Phantom wrapped his arms around his torso tightly and looked up.

“We can plant them again?”

Mountain smiled and nodded.

“Sure thing, bug.” He slowly put an arm around Phantom’s shoulders and gently encouraged him to start walking. “Do you want me to teach you about the plants too? You can come and help me out in the greenhouses if you like? There’ll be plenty to do over the next few weeks and I could do with another pair of hands.”

Phantom grinned up at him, his heart swelling with relief and with joy that he could give Mountain something back after everything he'd done for him.

“I would absolutely love that,” he said as they headed back to the gardens.

Thanks for reading 🖤 check out my AO3 page for other Ghost band works 🖤

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I have Ghost tickets for Kansas City, so yeah, I'm actually quite happy.

Prompt #1134

"Are you happy?"

"Fuck. I actually think I am."

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Grammy Awards are approaching fast, so here's a kind reminder that metal & rock awards will be, as usual, handed out during the Premiere Ceremony, not the main event. You can watch it on YouTube linked above or live.grammy.com. YouTube should show you the starting time based on your timezone, if you open the vid in the app.

Before the show, the Grammy's website will also have a multicam stream of the red carpet arrivals, so you can keep an eye out on our favourite Swede, in case he attends.

write bad fanfic. write mediocre fanfic. write fanfic that a thousand people before you have already written. write niche fanfic. write fanfic that only a few people will read or understand. write fanfic just for you. write fanfic just for a friend. write ocs. write self-inserts. the fact that you’re taking the time and energy to put your ideas into the world is amazing and people who shame you for it need to find better ways to spend their time.

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. 

The last 30 days have been expensive between this and Ghost tickets!

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.