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jadeoru · 5 months ago

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coffee beans.

synopsis: valentine's day was spent the same way every year: coffee, and studying, all while trying her best to avoid the happy couples in love. unfortunately, her tradition was interrupted by a clumsy pretty barista. or: kiyoko felt like she wasn't capable of feeling love, turns out she's just gay

warnings/tags: reader is a barista! fluff, meet-ugly, afab!reader, reader is referred to as a girl, kiyoko's pov, kiyoko is an anxious shy mess (me too), flirting (pathetic), kiyoko's gay awakening lmfao, kiyoko's a la dispute fan because i said so, poop jokes, i actually hate how this turned out but oh well, wrote this for the 3 kiyoko lovers of the world

wc: 3.5k words

now playing: very cliché but definitely girls - girl in red lmao 🎶

Kiyoko saw love as a waste of time. She lived her whole life in a society held together by the prospect of love. It chased her in many forms: her parents, her friends, music, art, - she knew it well. In her childhood, love was just another friend of hers; a familiar taste on her tongue, similar to her mother’s cooking. It was a feeling of home. But as she grew up, the flavour grew progressively more acrid; bitter. She watched as her friends changed, each of them infatuated by the weird feeling. Everyone around her had a crush on someone. Conversations with her friends quickly became dull. No one was the same as they got older. Everyone around her was falling in love; a victim of cupid's spell. She felt left out; ostracised. In her eyes, love seemed like a trap; a chain, connecting you to someone for the rest of your life. She never understood the appeal, and how everyone saw the cruel, suffocating feeling as a warm embrace - whirling inside of you. She was frustrated. It was stressful not knowing what was wrong with her - why she was so different from her peers. She tried relationships, they always felt wrong. She was asked out by 2 different guys, each time she said yes. She agreed not because the feeling was mutual, but because she hoped she could force herself to feel the same. In the end, she discovered that butterflies are just colourful moths that find home inside of your gut, and mess everything up as they inevitably rot away. Cupid shot Kiyoko with their arrow on multiple occasions; each time left her on the cusp of bleeding out. All everyone cared about was love. As everyone around her found their person, she found herself slowly left behind. Love was in the air, and she was allergic.

In a way, her friends felt bad for her. They didn’t understand, and honestly, neither did she. They frequently tried setting her up on dates. She met all kinds of guys, each one somewhat worse than the last. Every date felt so strange; something wasn’t right. Was that how all dates went? - That’s it? She honestly felt guilty. Her friends put so much effort into those dates, trying to find her soulmate. They genuinely cared about her. They wanted her to experience true love. She felt bad for being so difficult. It got to the point where she’d resort to pretending. She’d choose a random guy in her class, one that was objectively attractive, and led her friend’s to believe her poorly acted out infatuation was true love. A part of her hoped that by lying to her friends, she could lie to herself, and believe it. With fingers crossed, she prayed for her to finally succeed, She hoped that maybe, she’d finally experience the warmth of her heart pounding in her chest.

Graduation passed her by; it never worked.

To her, it was pointless. She tried it so many times, and in the end, she was always left unsatisfied. She lost faith in her search for love ages ago, and honestly stopped believing in it. Instead of flowers and holding hands with someone, love found her in other strange ways. To her, love was the cat that always met with her on her way to college, or when she found a song that she related to deeply. Love was the face of her mother when she was accepted into college. Love was spending time by herself; writing mediocre poetry, back pressed almost comfortably against a tree. With the exception of her father, love was never the face of a man. That was something she never came to terms with until her early adult years. That was something she thought she'd never understand;

She was wrong.

February was the worst. As if the people around her couldn’t get even more annoying, someone had the bright idea to make a whole day about love. She hated it. The commute to town was even more unbearable than it usually was. Instead of being surrounded by groaning strangers that had too much to drink last night; definitely did not get any sleep, mother’s carrying their screaming babies, the annoying screeching noise that erupted from the train every time it came to a halt, she was surrounded by cheesy lovers that flirted way too loudly. Noise-cancelling headphones were the greatest purchase she ever made.

The train to town was almost worse than the bustling, busy streets. Almost. As if her day couldn’t get any worse, all of her favourite places to spend her lunch were overrun, infected by insufferable couples. She turned her nose up with negativity. She wasn’t mad at them, if anything, she was envious. Why did she have to spend this magical holiday alone? It was unfair. She wanted not just to be loved, but to love. Her head spiralled every time she questioned herself; she never thought about it too much to prevent her from the gnawing pit that grew within her. It took a few miserable Valentine’s Day’s for her to cultivate a steady ‘celebration’ routine; A survival plan: she would take the train at 8:20, which would be significantly less busy than the one she usually got, put on her headphones, blasted La Dispute for the entire duration of the train ride while staring out the window, and then scurried her way through the hectic crowds to her favorite, quaint, quiet, family-owned coffee shop. There, she would grab the biggest, strongest coffee they had (with a generous amount of caramel syrup, to satiate her sweet tooth), and ploughed through her assignments with peaceful relief etched into every line her pen wrote.

That was how she spent every Valentine’s Day without fail - Without interruption. She finally had a stable routine that wouldn’t make her feel like a dysfunctional human. A routine that wouldn’t make her feel like there was something wrong with her. A distraction from the onslaught of love that crept up behind her; always facing her back, never once meeting her face to face. Up until now, it almost always went smoothly. It almost worked. She got off the train with high hopes, a subtle smile on her features as she silently appreciated the lyricism of the song she had on shuffle. She had only one notification on her phone: a warning to turn her volume down. All of her friends were busy spending time with their person. Of course they were too busy to text her. With a sigh, she increased the volume to the loudest it could go, and drowned out every thought and jealousy that plagued her mind. She didn’t care about damaging her hearing. At least she wouldn’t have to listen to grown adults talking and cooing to each other like babies. She hated that.

The walk to the coffee shop was fine. She kept to her side of the footpath, and held stern eye contact with the pavement. The cracks in the concrete were way more interesting than the romance that clouded the public anyways. Turning the door-handle, she silently rehearsed her order in her mind, before making her way to the counter. It was relatively quiet; empty. That’s how it normally was. This place was her escape from reality. It was small, quiet, the music they played was nice, and the baristas were always so polite to her. However, as she walked up to the counter, she was unable to recognise the barista behind the register. Was she new? She must’ve been, Kiyoko went there at least three times a week, and never once had she seen her. She wasn’t upset though, not in the slightest. She just hoped she would be as nice as the others. She watched attentively as the girl took the order of the person in front of her. She was smiling widely after each sentence that fled her lips. Not a fake customer-service smile, but a real genuine one. Kiyoko admired that. She continued to watch as she took the money from the customer and quickly placed it into the cash register. In one quick moment, Kiyoko found herself standing speechless directly in front of her. “Hey, what can I get for you?” She asked, giving Kiyoko absolutely zero time to mentally prepare herself to talk to her. She stuttered out her order with a strange feeling in her chest. She cringed at how stupid she sounded. “Of course! Would you like that in a takeaway cup?” She asked, flashing her a smile. It was so strange. Her smile seemed so familiar, so warm. The smile on her face almost made her feel at home; safe. She typed her order into the machine. Kiyoko was relieved - the eye contact was becoming too much for her. “Yes please.” She almost whispered, her voice unusually soft. She only nodded in response, letting out an “mhm!” in acknowledgement. She looked up at Kiyoko again, and she finally understood what it meant to have your heart skip a beat. “That’ll be 5,60! Are you paying with cash or card?”

The moment lasted only 30 seconds at most, and yet Kiyoko felt like she was suffering with a life-long crisis. As she handed her cash to her, she found herself questioning every choice she had ever made that led up to that moment. She couldn’t find the right words to describe how she felt. Conflicted? Confused? She couldn’t think of the right one. She couldn’t think of anything, besides the feeling of her hand touching hers for a split second, as she handed the money to her. She placed the money inside the register just like she did with the last customer. But, unlike she did with them, she leaned over the counter - propping her head up with her hands.

“It’ll be ready in about 5 minutes, pretty.”

With bright red cheeks and wobbly knees, she nodded her head, and almost sprinted to the pick-up counter.

There are a lot of things you could do in 5 minutes. You could listen to a song, count the tiles on the floor, or even count each second down to the last minute. Kiyoko chose neither of those. Instead, she stared at the floor, replaying the interaction in her head over a hundred times. She wasn’t entirely sure what was wrong with her, but one thing she knew for certain was she never felt that way about someone before. Ever. Those five minutes were spent questioning her entire existence. She struggled to come to an obvious conclusion. As it reached the tip of her tongue, her name was called out.

She spoke her name in a way that drove her crazy. The way each syllable rolled off her tongue had her worried she was going to suffer a heart attack. She quickly whipped her head around to face the barista again. She was suddenly very aware of how uncomfortably warm her face was. “You know… your name is almost as pretty as your face.” She almost whispered, a grin widely displayed on her cheeks as her eyes consumed Kiyoko whole. She leaned over the counter again, holding the cup out to Kiyoko. She really liked when she did that - for some strange reason. Her compliment caught Kiyoko completely off guard, hitting her almost like an arrow to the heart. A stupid smile spread out on her face. She wasn’t sure how else to react; It wasn’t socially acceptable to kick your feet and squeal in the middle of a coffee shop. Muttering a shy, “thank you so much!”, she held her hand out to grab the coffee from her. But, before she could get a stable grip on the cup, the barista let go of it too soon, almost out of embarrassment. In doing so, it caused the large, hot coffee to fall directly onto Kiyoko’s hand-made, wool sweater; crashing onto it like a boiling wave, spilling all over her and soaking her in the warm liquid.

There was a moment of mutual shock between them, a brief few seconds spent silently staring at each other. She did a terrible job at hiding the disgusted, uncomfortable look on her face as the coffee seeped through her sweater, ruining the shirt she was wearing under it, and sticking to her bare skin. She looked down to assess the damage done to her clothes. They were ruined. A big, attention-grabbing stain was spread unevenly on her sweater. This was the worst. She looked up at the barista, who looked even more terrified than she was. Her hands flew to cover her mouth, but Kiyoko could see the guilty, fearful look in her eyes. They stayed like that for a few seconds. Uncomfortable silence engulfed the room; like time stopped. Kiyoko didn’t look away from the barista, but she could tell that other people were definitely staring at the two of them. She wanted the ground to swallow her up. The barista was the first one to speak up.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” She could tell by the tone of her voice just how serious she was. Kiyoko opened her mouth to speak, to quickly forgive her. She just wanted to go home. Embarrassment enveloped her entirely, and the strong scent of coffee attacked her nostrils in an almost painful way, but the barista spoke up again. “Wait here, I’ll go get you some tissues!” She pleaded, raising her hands cautiously. She nodded in response, watching in silence as the barista urgently dashed through the door behind her. She silently cursed herself for not staying silent. She wiped her hand on her sweater, before holding it to her face to look at it. Her fingers were stained brown. At least her sweater didn’t absorb it all. She waited at the counter for the barista to return like a deer in headlights. She didn’t close the door to her break-room, so Kiyoko could just barely see her.

She was really pretty. Like, really really pretty. Even in her coffee-stained apron (She’s probably done this before to someone else - Kiyoko almost laughed at the thought), and her hair all messy from a probably stressful day, she was beautiful. Even as she frantically tore apart her break-room, Kiyoko couldn’t help but feel her heart whirling around at her irresistible pulchritude. A dumb smile plastered across Kiyoko's face. Technically, she should feel annoyed. She loved that sweater to death. But, in a weird way, she was glad. She knew that from then on, every time she looked at that stain, she would see a trace of her. Although she wasn’t entirely sure what any of her feelings meant, she didn’t have the time to care. For now, she would just let herself feel whatever feelings she felt, without the need to understand. She would have a crisis later. For now, she needed to befriend the clumsy, pretty barista.

She speed-walked back to the counter, holding tissues out to her. Realistically, tissues would not reverse any of the damage, but it was the thought that counted. “Here. I’m so sorry about that.” She said, lips curving into an apologetic smile so nice Kiyoko couldn’t help but mirror it. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” She answered, staring at her lips for an embarrassingly long moment, before finally returning to her eyes. She reached out to take the tissues from her hand. Have her fingers always been this shaky? The lack of sleep she got the night before must’ve been affecting her mind, because she could’ve sworn you grazed your hand over hers purposefully. She must’ve imagined it. She awkwardly wiped her sweater with it, staining the tissue in the process. The stain didn’t budge.

The barista cleared her throat. “Would it help if I told you I still think you’re really pretty?” She fidgeted with her hands, an empathetic look in her eyes as she silently hoped to uplift Kiyoko’s spirits. Totally not because she was also insanely into her. Totally. Kiyoko almost dropped the tissue. Hell, she almost dropped her jaw at the sudden flirtatious remark. Her face went hot as the line between a friendly compliment and flirting was incredibly unclear to her. Was she just being nice? “Maybe it would.” She began, raising her hands, leaving the stain on full display. and tilting her head with a smile. “Would it help if I told you I think you’re really cute?” Kiyoko made a mental note to learn how to flirt later. The barista smiled, letting out an airy chuckle. “Well, it wouldn’t help the sweater I ruined, but it would help my ruined confidence.” She joked, looking at the ground. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed, it was my fault.” Kiyoko stated matter-of-factly, the girl looked at her like she had two heads. “Nope. It was my fault, cutie. I won't accept any other opinions.” She said with a wink - a wink that almost made Kiyoko fall over. Her knees were immensely weak, and she couldn’t tell if it was from the nickname, the wink, or both.

She sighed with defeat knowing not to debate with her any further. “Does it look like I just shit myself?” She asked with a laugh. The barista laughed with her, which only sorta, kind of, slightly, made her heart flutter. “Nah, more like someone shit on you.” She responded, scratching her chin in playful thought. “I’m seriously so sorry about that by the way. Let me make you another coffee, free of charge. Is there anything else I can do to help?” She asked, her words laced with genuine interest. She grabbed an empty cup, writing something on it before turning around and beginning to make her drink. Kiyoko waved her hands dismissively. “Don’t be sorry, accidents happen! - At least now I have an excuse to talk to you longer.” If she didn’t stutter her way through that sentence, it probably would’ve sounded way less pathetic. Unfortunately, Kiyoko felt she wasn’t anything but pathetic. She wasn’t aware of how it took everything in the barista not to get on one knee and propose to her at that very second. “You have a point. Maybe it’s a good thing I spilled it on you.” She chuckled, turning back around to face her again, handing her the new drink - carefully this time.

“Um, this might be incredibly out of line, but could I maybe get your number?” She smiled nervously at Kiyoko. Normally, whenever a guy asked her for her number, it made her scoff and roll her eyes. But she was different, Kiyoko never nodded her head so enthusiastically in her life. “Yeah, of course!” She did little to hide the excitement laced in her words. The barista smiled the widest she’d seen that morning. Whispering a quiet “thank you,” she handed Kiyoko her phone, and she shakily typed in her number.

“Oh uh, I never got your name?” Through a smile, she responded, “it’s Y/n.”

“Y/n..” she repeated, handing her her phone back, “that’s a really pretty name. It suits you.” With every sentence it was as if their smiles grew tenfold; heightened by mutual happiness. “Thanks Kiyoko, your name is lovely too.” “Shimizu.” She corrected abruptly, y/n furrowed her brow in response. “Please, call me Shimizu.” she almost begged, craving to taste her name on her tongue. “Well then, Shimizu. It was lovely meeting you. I’ll stop bothering you and let you enjoy your coffee, for now.” She winked again, doing very little absolutely nothing to help convince Kiyoko she’s still straight. “For now?” She asked, confused. “Well I’ll definitely be texting you after my shift, so, for now, I will grant you peace and quiet.” She laughed her words out, to which Kiyoko reciprocated.

“I definitely won’t enjoy it when I could be talking to you instead.” Kiyoko took a sip from her drink. If she wasn’t sure then, the deliciousness of her coffee definitely confirmed just how in love Kiyoko was with her barista. She laughed, “Call me whenever you want someone to spill coffee on you. I’ve proven myself to be very good at that”

“Oh believe me, I will.”

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gem-femmes · 19 days ago

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The Art of Subtle Influence: How to Be the Person Everyone Wants Around

Look, anyone can scream for attention. But the ones who really get invited everywhere are the quiet pros at making everyone else feel like the star.

Want to be that person? Here’s how to master the art of subtle influence (and leave everyone wondering, how does she do it?).

🌟1. Be Warm, But Not a Human Heater

There’s a difference between being approachable and smothering people with forced enthusiasm. You want to:

Actually listen when someone speaks. (No, don’t just nod while mentally drafting your grocery list.)

Match their vibe. If they’re low-key, don’t come in at “game show host” energy.

People remember how you made them feel, so aim for “cozy fireplace” warmth, not “burning spotlight”.

🌟2. Make the Small Stuff Big

It’s the tiny things that make people say, Wow, she just gets it.

Mention something they told you weeks ago, like their favorite wine or a random book they love. (Instant loyalty unlocked.)

Notice the details: “Your earrings are amazing. Where did you get them?” flattery, but make it specific.

Big gestures scream trying too hard. Small ones whisper, effortless queen.

🌟3. Step Back. No, Seriously, Step Back

Nothing screams “wannabe” like hogging the spotlight 24/7.

Mystery = intrigue. You don’t need to share your entire life story the moment someone asks, “How’s it going?”

Let others shine. In group settings, pass the conversational mic: “Tell us about your project, it sounds incredible.” Trust me, they’ll remember you for it.

People like you more when they think you’re in the spotlight, but you’re really pulling strings from the shadows.

🌟4. Play Social Cupid

Be the matchmaker everyone didn’t know they needed.

Introduce people with a flattering backstory: “You have to meet her—she’s basically a genius in [insert field].”

Help others win: “This event totally made me think of you. You’d kill it there.”

When you’re the person who makes their life a little richer, your stock goes up without you lifting a finger (okay, maybe one finger, to text an intro).

🌟5. Glow-Up, but Keep It Casual

You don’t need to look like you just stepped off a Vogue shoot. But let’s not do “rolled out of bed five minutes ago”, either.

Wear one standout piece that people associate with you. (A killer necklace, your signature red lipstick - pick a “thing”.)

Never humblebrag. Confidence isn’t saying, “I did X amazing thing.” It’s walking in like you could say it, but don’t need to.

Polished, but chill. Like, “Oh, this old thing? Just threw it on.”

🌟6. Be the Good Vibes Distributor

No one likes a buzzkill. Even the hot gossip types don’t get invited everywhere.

Skip the drama and steer conversations away from negativity. “Wow, let’s not give that more energy. So, tell me about [fun topic]!”

Bring solutions, not problems. Be the person who says, “We can totally figure this out” instead of “Yeah, this sucks.”

People gravitate toward positivity like moths to a light. Be the light.

🌟7. Learn the Power of a Well-Placed ‘No’

Look, you’re not a free therapist, Uber driver, or party clown.

Declining an invite? Say something like, “That sounds so fun, but I’ve got a full plate right now. Next time!” (Translation: You’re busy being fabulous.)

Boundaries aren’t rude; they’re attractive. When you respect your own time, people respect it too.

Saying no strategically makes you more desirable - and leaves them wanting more.

🌟Influence Isn’t a Megaphone, It’s a Whisper

Subtle influence is a long game, not a sprint. It’s about leaving people feeling seen, supported and just a little bit in awe of you.

And when they’re looking around wondering, Who should we invite? Who’s got that energy? - your name’s already on the list.

#social climbing #networking #luxury #high society #hypergamy #business

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freddie-77-ao3 · 11 months ago

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Percy Jackson-esque Chapter Titles for a fic i'm writing:

We have friends in holy places (and unholy- Hello Lady Hera!)

What’s Up, Random Person, We’re Kidnapping and Adopting You

Yeah, The Beach Is Nice- Thank You For Not Drowning Us

Hazel Was Dead and Still Knows More Than You

Thank Fuck For The Egyptian- How the Hell Did We End Up In Great Britain

Annabeth Is Obsessed and Bianca Is Possessed- There Goes Christmas

Question Of Our Lives and Today Especially: What The Hell Is Going On?!

Now Would Be A Good Time To Be Anyone Else

Call The Police Because We May Have Just Murdered A Mortal

Ask And You Shall Receive… Sometime In The Next Twenty Years Probably

A Guinea Pig, A Dandelion, A Pine Tree, An Olive Tree and Two Embarrassed Girls Walk Into A Bar

Satan Or Santa? Neither Should Exist And Yet Somehow They’re Both Knocking On Our Tent Door

A Slight Reprieve From The Last Chapter: Connor Comes For You With The Question ‘Do Tents Have Doors?’

And We’re Back, Why Did You Guys Think Our R&R Would Last Long?

Sugar, Spice, Almost Dying Twice (Today)

Would You Put ‘Cheating Death Almost Daily’ Under Experience Or Special Skills?

An Inspirational Trip Through Hell- Persephone Makes Good Brownies

Those Commercials Where People Screw Up The Most Basic Of Tasks In The Most Idiotic Fashion Ever Describes The Current Situation

As The Prophecy Foretold (We Made It Up, But It Came True)

Living Normally? In This Economy?

And Then The Wolves Came… Sike (Thank Fuck)

The Snails Paced Chocolate Bunny Gives Mixed Messages But Good Cereal

What The Hades Is Going On, Someone Explain

Apparently Exploding A Volcano Makes Us 'Irresponsible’

Why Are Cats So Vengeful

Oh Look! An Unhelpful Old Person!

The Adults Are More Annoying Than Leo Valdez and Nico Di Angelo Put Together

They Scream For Ice Cream, I Scream For Sanity

McDonald’s And Raising The Dead- Tuesday Never Looked So Good

Unfortunately, I’m Still Not Dead Or A Dolphin (Not For Lack Of Effort)

Eggs Apparently Don’t Like Being Lost At Sea

I’m Packing Up My Crayons And Leaving

Viva La Pluto, Fuck You Guys

A Guide To Giving Up

Hopefully We Can Do This Without Dying This Time

Lady Dirt Face Fucks Us Over- Apparently Today CAN Get Worse

Apparently The Horse Is A God, And Honestly, Fuck The World- But Not You Potty Sludge

If Love Is In The Air Then We’re Wearing Gas Masks- How We Almost Started A War On Accident

If Love Is An Open Door We Should Close It- Aphrodite And Cupid Both Suck

Vegan Ice Cream Sandwiches For One

I Call Shotgun (Said The Invisible Girl and The Literal Ghost)

I Fucked My Way Into This Mess, I’ll Fuck My Way Out Of It

Things Go Horribly Wrong (Or Horribly Right? It’s Hard To Tell At This Point)

The Fine Art Of Bullshit

We Are Being Hunted And Killed (Why Is This Normal And How Can We Stop It?)

Previously On ‘The Chaos Chronicles”

Cool, Cool, Cool, Cool. Actually It’s Not- Who Lit Katie’s Hair On Fire?!

I’d Like To Say This Is Shocking, But That Would Just Be A Lie

One Hundred And One Monsters, And Twenty Times A Therapist Was Needed

I Am Honestly Surprised That We Are Still Alive, And Apparently So Are The Gods

You Will Never Be A God

Blackmail Only Works If I Care

An Offer I Can Definitely Refuse

Hush Little Baby, Don’t You Cry, You’ll Give Away Our Location, And Then We’ll Die

Only Come Back With Back Up Or A Burger- Maybe Donuts

Doomsday Or Not, Let Me Go Back To Bed, I Haven’t Slept In A Week And I Don’t Care

Practise Doesn’t Make Perfect, Practise Makes A Forest Fire And A Flood

Sea Foam Speaks and A New Person Shatters My Dreams

The Labyrinth Apparently Doesn’t Murder The Already Dead, So Can We Just Die Already?

For A Moment I Forgot Gravity, And As It Seems So Did The Sky, Which Is Good Because I’d Hate To Die Before Breakfast

And God Told Us To Run A Marathon- What Happened To Normal Executions?

At Some Point The Universe Just Needs To Kill Us

There Is Not Enough Faith For This,

No Words Can Explain Dan, The God Of Moths and Accidental Demon Summoning

The Endless and Mysterious Ocean Becomes A Bit Less So, And I Should Have Paid For Diving Lessons

If Best Plus Bitter Equal Better, Then I Am Way Better Than Everyone

Firecrackers And Actual Crackers- Where Is The Cheese

He Likes Art. Terrible Art, But Still Art So I Suppose I’ll Forgive The Sword Through My Head

Hazel Drives Worse Than Thalia Which Says A Lot Because Thalia Crashed Into A Lake- Oh Wait

What Do You Do When The World Almost Ends- And No Nico, The Answer Isn’t Go To McDonalds

This Wasn’t Supposed To Happen (Just Like Me)

Can I Rewrite My Life Story, Because If So I’m Starting With This

I Wasn’t Prepared For Parenthood When I Stopped A Kidnapping, I’m Seven

Patting My Own Back, No One Appreciates Me, Fuck This And Really The Rest Of My Life

Apparently Dying Is Not An Excuse For Being Late, So Fuck You Too

Buying Happy Meals For The Dead Isn’t An Excuse For Being Late

Caped God? I Was Hoping You Had Said Cape Cod

Incoherent Screaming Is Our Theme Song, And I Feel A New Episode On

Who Told Apollo He Could Give Us Presents, Because MCR Is Not A Proper Wake Up Call

It’s Jesus Who Ruined Our Lives This Time, Folks

Don’t Awaken The Ancient One, She Has Anxiety

I Did Not Know That Could Kill Someone, But You Learn Something New Every Day

The Gods Themselves Want Me Dead, You’re Not Special, Todd

Doritos And Death, A How To On Properly Waking And Raising The Dead Featuring A Trip To Alaska

What Was I Thinking? I’m Pretty Certain I Wasn’t

News To No One: The Previously Dead Can’t Drive

I Really Hate Saving The World Actually

How Many Times Is That Threat Going To Work Considering It’s Not Serious? A Surprising Number

Everyone Asks Who We Are, Not How We Are, And Honestly I’m Pretty Hungry

The Gods Hate Me And I Don’t Know Why (I Do Know Why, But I Don’t Care, And Honestly They Shouldn’t Either)

Which Circle Of Hell Are We In Now, Because I Was Not Planning On A Field Trip To Tartarus

We Master The Elements (Some Of Them- We Also Torch And Flood New England)

In Which We Almost Die Again And No One Bats An Eye

Our Lives Would Be Incredibly Saddening If We Could Sit Down And Look At Them, But Leo Burned Our Chairs

The Houseplants Try To Eat Us, And Katie Gets Mad

We Babysit For A God, And Then Adopt His Kids- Surprisingly He’s Fine With This

Dreams Do Come True And That Is Absolutely Not A Good Thing

There Goes My Best Bargaining Chip (Oh And Also His Head)

A Series Of Horrible Decisions- Who Decided I Was The Leader

Hylla, Please Don’t Leave Us- Oh, You Can Give Us A Box Of Cereal? Nevermind

Sunshine And Rainbows Are Meant To Mean Happiness Not War- Iris and Apollo Destroy Things

Please Don’t Hit Me With Another Brick

We Were Happy And Then There Was A Giant Pigeon

Oh My Holy Fucking Shit That Was Not The Right Lever

In Which Swimming With Sharks Almost Leads To Death And Yet Saves Our Lives

There Is No Highway To Hell As It Turns Out, Only Backroads, And Now Nico And Thalia Are Disappointed

And Then The Sky Almost Crushed Us Because It Fell And Honestly I’m Never Trusting You Again

There Goes Normal Society, Say Bye-Bye, Miranda

Are We Supposed To Live Through This?

The Dick Who Hands Out Toothbrushes Also Assigns Us A Death Quest And This Is Why We Don’t Celebrate Holidays

Sorry For Cursing You Out, Please Fix My Life

The Plan Checks Out- We Can Do This! (Spoiler Alert- We Can’t)

Three Hundred And Sixty Five Times We Can Say Fuck In A Hour

Please Let Me Pass Out On Your Lawn

Apparently Yelling Fuck At The Sky Is Considered ‘Disrespectful’ And I Haven’t A Fucking Clue Why

Yes Sir, That Is A Lot Of Blood, And No Sir, She Doesn’t Need That Leg

That One Time We Accidentally End Up In The Slaughter Sea, And How That Manages To End Up With A New Leader Of The Amazon Empire And Thalia Gets A Girlfriend

Yes, I’m Aware I Look Gay, Thank You Very Much, I’m Here To Be Queer

This Person Is Nico di Angelo With Less Shits To Give, And Honestly That Scares Me

A Good Idea With Bad Results And A Bad Idea With Surprising Results- The Ending Will Astound You

Never Thought I’d Literally Be Shut In The Closet Again, But Life’s Full Of Surprises

One Million Pounds Of Oranges And Sadness, Sixty Thousand Pounds Of Mangos, And A Truck Full Of Happiness- Monsters Not Welcome

Who Packed The Blueberry Muffins?

Nevertheless She Persisted, And Yet Just Like That, She Gave Up

What The Hell Is This, What The Hell Is That, Why The Hell Am I Here, What The Hell, *Moonwalks Into Hell*: A Brief Summary Of Life

All Is Fair In Being The First One In The Shower

We Accidentally Summon An Army Of Lost Souls

All Our Nightmares Come True And We Prove We’re Idiots

Life Gave ‘Lia Lemons. She Squeezed Them In My Eyes. Please No More Lemons.

Trying To Play Nice To The Gods Never Ends Well. In Other Words, Percy Is An Olive Tree

What’s Happening? I’m Digging My Own Grave, That’s What

Finger Guns, Peace Signs, and Middle Fingers To Nowhere- Home At Last

In Jason’s Defense, He Tried, But The Dragon Was More Interesting

Keeping A Family Alive Can Be Difficult, Especially With No Education and More Monsters A Day Than Cash (Twenty Dollars)

Thalia Tries To Sing Over Annabeth And Percy Arguing And All That Happens Is A Noise Complaint

At This Point, Murder Is Less Of A Passing Thought And More Of An ‘It’s Only A Matter Of Time’

Cousin Bonding Time Doesn’t Usually Include The Gods, But There Are Burgers So…

According To The Crazy Titan Lord Kronos, Asking If A Newborn Looks Like A Rock Is A Question That Will Result In The Death Of The Asker

Oh Joy, I’m Facing Scrutiny Over My Love Life From Immortal Preteens

Oh Things Couldn’t Be Worse When Your Parents Run The Universe Oh Things Couldn’t Be Worse When There’s A Vote To Kill Us (Leo stop using Jazz hands!)

We Have The Worst Family Reunion Ever 3.0

Barbed Wire Instead Of String, The Fates Hate Me More Than You Might Think

Zombies, Zombies Everywhere, Wave Your Hands Up In The Air

The World Is A Different Place When You Know What The World Is (Spoiler Alert: It’s Your Murderous Great Grandma)

The Refrigerator Seems Empty, Much Like My Soul

Ah, The Smell Of Success, It Smells Like Bullshit

My Heart Is Broken (Like Those Crackers That Bianca’s Eating)

Utter Chaos: Now Featuring Camp Half Blood And Literal Blood

Family Drama Destroys My Life

Family Drama 2.0: Family Drama Destroys California

So Then A God Says We ‘Will Save Humanity’, And Thalia Says ‘What The Fuck’

Two Middle Aged Women Start Screaming In Walmart

The Main Braincell Holder Is Asleep, God Doesn’t Exist, And Starting Forest Fires Is A Normal Way To Deal With Stress

Hell Is Just Life On Steroids

Queerly Beloved, We Are Gathered Here Togay… A.K.A. A Bet Ruins Rachel Elizabeth Dare’s Life

Normal People Would Avoid This, But The Two Most Normal People Here Used To Be Dead Or Will Die When A Stick Lights On Fire, So We Can’t Have High Hopes

We Try (And Fail, But Hey, It’s The Thought That Counts, Right?)

So THAT’S Where The Greek Fire Went. Sorry, Bus Driver.

Percy Has His Gay Awakening In The Form Of His Grandfather (Technically. He’s Also Technically His First Cousin Once Removed Or Something- Annabeth’s cousin maybe?)

You're Annoying Me To Death With Your Monologue So I Have To Kill You Now

What Can Go Wrong Will Go Wrong Doesn’t Mean You Should Set My Bed On Fire

Thalia Does Shock Therapy Meaning She Electrocutes People When They Say Things

We Should Know By Now That Yelling Doesn't Solve Things But We Don’t, And The Gods Don’t Either

Most Of My Life Is Incredibly Traumatizing, But This Is New

Who The Fuck Invited The Norse?!

Okay, I Thought The Norse Were Enough, Why Are The Magicians Here?

Wow. Popcorn. The Roman’s Worst Nightmare.

So First The World Almost Ends, And Then The World Ends But It Gets Better, And Now It’s Ending Again?

Prophecies Can Fuck Off, And So Can Apollo

“Treacherous Nephew In The Tuxedo” Should Sound Funny, But It Doesn’t, And That Makes Leo Sad

Why Is A Titan Making Dad Jokes?

Falling Into A Dumpster Was The Highlight Of My Day, What Is Life

Grieving For The Living Is Just As Hard As Grieving For The Dead

Please Forget That I Tried To Kill You

In My Defence, An Invisible Higher Power Who Has The Ability To Strike Me Down Made Me Do It

Let Out A Boo For The Boom Man

Twenty McDonald’s Happy Meals And A Gun- Godly Gifts Are Awesome

We Enter The Maze Of Doom (This Time With Fabulous Prizes)

Two Brothers Are Not Happy As A Sister Cheers On Two More Brothers As They Duel To The Death- (Triton & Tyson & Kymopoleia & Percy & Anteus Have Sibling Bonding Time)

The Eight Year Old With A Gun Manages To Save And Then Destroy A Life

Hello, I’m Queer, And Full Of Fear. Please Kill Me Now

Children Try To Make Plans (It Doesn’t Go So Well)

Thalia Grace Once Again Proves That Being A Demigod Really Fucking Sucks

It Don’t “Do Be Like That Sometimes” Leo, We Are In HELL

#pjo hoo toa #pjo #riordanverse #pjo series #pjo fandom #fanfiction #family forged

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atiianeishaunted · 4 months ago

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some canon stfuf about the sonder cast bwaa :33 you can have ur own hcs btw id love to see them <3 but!! yeah,, i feel liek infodumping a teensy bit hrgfrhfh mainly cuz im not in an art mood 2day sigh doesnt include everyone bc this is only stuff i can think of off the top of my head atm but :3

lance: canonically bisexual, might be a trans man (havent decided? its honestly up 2 the audience, could go either way), was a huge moviestarplanet player when he was a kid, would probably play dress to impress methinks, for the LONGEST time was convinced something was going on between allura and keith and was insanely jealous and bitter, has the worst gaydar ever TRUST, figured out he was bisexual while playing msp but it only got worse when he met keith and hes really pissed about it

keith: gay as hell but hasnt exactly processed or accepted it (just knows hes scared of women) (for many reasons), transgender (will respond to anything besides feminine pronouns n such), most likely did his own piercings dont ask how or why, allura is the only woman thus far hes comfortable with because she reminds him of a certain someone, allura and him r huge gossips, jack of all trades but really does not know what hes good at like he doesnt know a thing about himself (one time lance challenged him to try out his sniper bc they got into an argument and keith was surprisingly good at it, he was evidently more confused than lance somehow?) (think that one family guy audio where s liek "how r u doing that" "i dunno ;;; O_O"), if you ask him ANYTHING about himself he will most likely just say "yeah i dont rememebr" or "I dont know", often talks very old school and "retro" (in lance's words), surprisingly a decent cook/baker, not as good as hunk of course but can keep up, despite this it was revealed in a conversation with hunk that keith was eating glass among other inedible things while going crazy in the desert (his feral era <3), can diy explosives among other things and no one acknowledges it because it scares them, this boy is very autistic, audhd in fact, im right and you all know it allura: lesbian but doesnt realize it just yet, would probably love the idea of neo/xenopronouns she'd find them whimsical, surprisingly prefers moths over butterflies (mainly after a talk she and keith had one night), huge gossip and loves romance but not in a "i need to date a man" way but "i want to play cupid" (think mabel from gravity falls) (she did have a phase of being boy crazy but that quickly went away when she was brought out of stasis), she loves dressing up but mainly dresses down and more casually because she doesnt go out as much thanks to altea going kaput and all that, she adores gardening and likes to make dyes and such from her flowers, huge diy queen (TRUSTT) she can sew and all that, probably real crafty, keith and allura are close friends and both extremely out of touch with normal human people, she frequently asks him for advice due to their closeness and they just make eachother worse /aff, unironically used wicked in a sentence and was very proud of it (lance almost threw keith out of an airlock for this one), not the best cook but tries her best and is fairly confident with her skills (vicecore if you play alchemy stars) (keith almost banned her from the kitchen) (they agreed on supervised kitchen hours)

pidge: aroace and agender, literally a chronically online cosplayer tech nerd, probably has been cancelled multiple times to the point where matthew had to take every piece of tech they had in the house, has doxxed people before, obsessed with vocaloid and anime, wants to get piercings really bad but their parents wont let them, uses any pronouns and if you ask for their gender they will change their answer everytime or answer with something silly like "the void", their favorite person is Hunk but beyond that prefers robots and tech as their companions, keith is their favorite victim of pranks (save him), the only one who isnt scared of keith even a little bit, evil scientist coded, too smart for their own good, not very socially smart and misses social cues but doesnt really care, very picky about the food they consume, iconic 13-14 year old who is a bit too excited at the prospect of having an excuse to build weapons

#lance mcclain #keith kogane #allura #pidge holt #vld #voltron #voltron: sonder #fun facts #slash headcanons #i guess #?#anyway i can do more posts liek this #if u guys want #keith was feral #dreamworks shouldve made him feral #domestication arc

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fountainpenguin · 6 months ago

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"I have you strung... Strung in my web! Candle burning slowly by the bed..." (x)

The Candles We Light (and Should Regret)

The Pantheon of Silk and Plays AU Guide

❤️ Read on AO3

🧡 T - Ongoing multichapter

💙 Blog tag - #Silk Plays AU

💚 More MCYT AUs

“Would you… care to know what clothes I’m wearing?” Cleo turned her head, eyes still squeezed. She didn’t respond, but heard the spirit shift. Metal clicked against metal somewhere out of sight, maybe around his neck or back. “If you will have me, Cleo… take my ties and silks and draw them off. Undress me as you would a mortal man, and I am yours.” “Undress you?” The words left her in a whisper. “Is such a thing sacred?” “Yes,” he breathed, and Cleo shuddered despite herself. He gripped her arm, pulling her in. “To take my silks is to possess my heart and soul, as the skins of seal-folk. You remember, of course, how the god of travel and arts stripped the god of war and sky. Make a mortal thing of me.”

Cleo has never seen her husband; the father of her children. He only visits in the dark.

(And the tales that came before).

A Cupid/Psyche-inspired AU themed around the Limited Life and Double Life SMPs

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

Tsumugi

🐛 🕯️ 🧵

Slippers made poor riding shoes, especially over lava. But they were silk, gifted by the flicking wings of moths without number, and when you know not where you walk, you should always dress in silk. It's good enough for gods.

Scalding. Fierce. Cleo hooked her fingers in crimson neck feathers. She slid forward and back with the steady gait of the long-legged bird she'd mounted with a saddle; she lured it ever forward with a promise of mushrooms in her outstretched hand (taken beneath the sleepy eyes of a mossy-coated god). Stink burned her nostrils, but she had not the words to describe it beyond memories of eggs fallen beneath the henhouses where she'd once changed the straw.

One blemish marred her finger; already, she'd dropped her satchel and watched it burn. There went her offerings… and there went her payment for the trip back across the glittery golden pool. No other mortal creature (if there were any) could carry her across again, for all things died in lava except the long-legged birds sired by the god she'd come to see. They pranced like demigods in their crowns of ivory, wrapped in feathered robes.

Every tread rocked her forward, pressing her head to the back of the bird's rough neck. But halfway across the lava lake, her companion stopped walking. Her gift had reached its end; it would take her no further. It pecked for mushrooms in her hand. Cleo curled her fingers. The bird swayed beneath her, ruffling its wings. It stamped its legs. This blurred her vision, kicking butterflies across her fingertips. If it charged and took flight, would the saddle hold? Buckling a saddle on a bird hadn't been an easy task. She fed it many, many mushrooms; she owed a debt now to the god of sleep and dew.

"Shh, shh… It's all right. Look; here you go." Cleo brought the last bits of fungi to the bird's face, stroking its neck as it settled down again. How curious to be a pair of mortal things tangled in heat and stench. The bird fluttered, disloyal to its own footing, and Cleo pressed her knees against its huffing sides until her thighs ached up the seamlines. The silk slippers debated mutiny on her toes. Lava sizzled and crackled an arm's length away. Did sailors feel like this on sinking ships? Cleo pressed her lips together, swallowing clogged-up air. Then, lifting their head, they looked towards the platform they hadn't reached. Much too far to jump.

If she must be slain for intruding in this temple—for overhearing sacred words of bliss and passion not meant for mortal ears—then let it be on her feet, head tilted back while shadowed implications danced upon the wall. Let it be the night wife and husband called each other Mulberry, after the silk flowing in their veins. They cried that lonely word until they crushed it into dust beneath the weight of expectations. How many centuries did it take the spirits to memorize every thumbprint on each other's skin? Would they know the moth holes marking one another's hearts?

The god who dwelled in this magma-filled temple (made honorary god of hearts and husbandry by his wife) hummed beyond his veil. His wife answered him in whispers. She'd become his mulberry-thing (his blessed and beloved), as he'd become hers.

The beautiful birds were not embarrassed by their mother and father. And if the birds were not embarrassed, neither would she be. They nipped and tore at each other, still squawking at her chosen mount for devouring the mushrooms they'd brought without sharing with the flock. Cleo did what they had to, then, and tossed dirt into the lava before her. As though by miracle, the particles took solid form to shape a little platform. They dismounted the long-legged bird for this makeshift island of exile, and pet its beak until it ambled away. Its footsteps slurped with every stride.

The god of sea and fire had been married many years, rendered mortal and soft in every thread he played across his fingers. Cleo could not see his wife disrobed from her sacred silks and strewn across the loom, guarded as she was by gossamer veil, but their shadows and candles conspired to chase hidden things into light. It was known to Cleo then (in fragmented, unfinished way) how he wove with nimble fingers. He called her name ambrosia and pomegranate and Venus among the fishes, and all the things that get you drunk on life and love. She named him This thing and That thing which cannot be translated, and filthy things that can, which would have ruffled even the real god of hearts and husbandry if they chanced upon his ear. Cleo traced two finger pads across the stitch marks down her cheek. That…

That was mulberry silk, in a way the kind that ran inside her undead veins was not.

Upon the marital loom, the gods weaved a bird into life (which Cleo saw only in its shadow), and love was made. The bird squawked in hunger. Two scraggly wings spread in prayer or plea. The god hummed in pleasure and lifted the little thing in his hands. Its shadow burned imprints in the backs of Cleo's eyes. Newborn things were rarely a mortal's right to see.

On this spot—this tiny island made up of one dirt block—they would make their plea, for all they were worth. Cleo then bore their chin high and called with grand voice into the whispers of the night:

"I leave comment with the god of sea and fire, who bears my heart and leads my trail."

The murmurs stopped. The shadows fidgeted. The new bird croaked, seeking solace at his chest. The shadows slid apart again as the god lifted the candle in its dish.

"Oi! Oh, you're having a-" The spirit thrust the veil aside then, rubbing something akin to exhaustion from his eyes. "What are you on about? I took down my bridge for the night. Why have you set foot in my abode?"

❤️ Read on AO3

#hermitshipping #trafficshipping #Silk Plays AU #AO3 #Cletho #(Slow burn)#Zombiewood #(Weird one-sided jealousy and overprotectiveness on Martyn’s side)#apparently art #fic announcement #mcyt #ridwriting

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alwaysjustmina · 1 year ago

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Whispers of Rain

Chapter 3 -Will You Cleanse Me With Pleasure?

Thank you to the amazing @kamonart for the art for this story!

Thank you @papaslittlesunshine and @midnight-moth for betaing for me.

PLEASE NOTE THERE IS A RAPE SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER

The legend of the Selkie plagued Dew’s mind, the thought of the Selkie only being able to come ashore as a human, but it would have to shed its skin to do so. And couldn’t return to the sea without his skin to start their siren song again. Was Dew’s abduction Rain’s loss of his skin? Could he return to the sea again? Could he find comfort again? Or would he forever be plagued with the loss of Dew, taking his other form with him? Their connection was so strong they were half a ghoul without the other.

Dew found himself on a beach, watching the ocean, seeing Rain in the distance, dancing in the waves. He wished he could join him but kept his distance, he would only slow Rain down. So he watched the perfect grace he possessed as he jumped through the water, gliding silently through the crystal blue to find small shells or to play with the sea creatures he found.

He was a sight to see in his element, truly breathtaking. Dew remembered that first time he saw the water bead on his skin. Was that really only less than a year ago? The kiss they shared in the water, magical. As his mind drifted to those times, it was as if Rain knew he was thinking about him and turned to look back at Dew. A coy smile played on his lips as he started walking towards his mate on the sand.

Soon he was close enough he could plop on the towel next to him, drenching Dew with the water on his body as he leaned in close to his side. “What are you thinking about, baby?” He asked as he melted into Dew.

Dew couldn’t answer, his breath taken away by the slow kisses Rain was placing on his bare chest as he snuggled. When he didn’t answer, Rain laid his head in Dew’s lap and looked up at him with his beautiful blue eyes, the corners of his mouth in a pout that Dew didn’t return his affection quicker.

“Otter?”

Dew looked down at Rain, brushing his black hair behind his pointed ears, the dampness keeping it in place, instead of springing back like it normally did. He ran his fingers along his cheekbones, over his brow, the lightest touch on his fluffy eyelashes as he fluttered them closed, his straight long nose, trailing further down to his lips.

A smile graced Rain’s lips to match the one on Dew’s. The finger on his lips traced the cupid's bow, featherlight, making Rain’s face scrunch in surprise at how ticklish it was. As Dew traced his lips, Rain quickly opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out to lick at the finger that slowly dragged along it.

He could hear the sharp inhalation under Dew’s breath, pleased that he surprised him. Dew continued running his now spit-soaked finger along the outline, the saliva glinting in the sun turning his crimson lips into a sparkling mirage.

“Stunning,” he whispered under his breath. The reverence in that one word melted Rain’s brain with affection for Dew.

“I love you, baby.”

Dew gazed down at him, with half lidded eyes, his fingers moving from his lips to rest on Rain’s hip, while the other ran through his damp hair. “I love you. Though, I feel like that doesn’t even describe the feelings I have for you. Love is maybe a tenth of the power I feel.”

“You consume me Rain, I want to crawl into you and never leave. The feelings I have for you are more infinite than the amount of stars in the sky, the damned souls in hell, these grains of sand that support us. I can’t even tell you the depth of my feelings, it seems inadequate, what did I do to-to…”

His words, cut off by Rain lifting his head off his lap to bring his spit-soaked lips to Dew’s in a devastatingly passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around Dew’s neck to bring him down on the blanket beside him.

They stared into each other's eyes as they memorized the lines of each of their faces, the curve of their bodies, the feel of how well they fit together, perfectly. They slotted their legs together, hands ran along each other's sides, occasionally dipping lower to run along a hip, higher to run fingers through each other's hair.

Rain nuzzled into Dew’s neck, slotting his head under his chin, still grasping onto one another, their hold never breaking, as if they couldn’t get close enough. Rain ran his nose along Dew’s pulse to the scent gland behind his ear, taking in his fire smell, drenched with water, moaning at the scent, his lips brushing over his pulse points, tongue darting out to taste. Like burnt marshmallows, sweet and smoky.

“Your arms feel like home, when they are wrapped around me,” He mused into Dew’s neck.

“You are my home, baby. Always.”

They both sighed, content in the other's arms. Not moving along to escalate the feelings, but they could both feel the desire building under their skin. The heat of Dew’s body, the cold damp of Rain’s, as fingers ran along the other it was like conducting electric currents everywhere they trailed.

They were alone on this beach, Dew couldn’t remember if it was too early in the morning, or too late in the evening. The sun’s golden hues casting the perfect light. The smell of old coconut sunblock, sun kissed warmed skin, scenting the air. The heat permeating both of their bodies to different extents, Rain would never be as warm as Dew, Dew never as cool as Rain.

Both comforted in the fact that they were truly alone, their glamor had dropped long ago. Their tails laid entwined. Dew’s with its spade tip, tinged in oranges, reds, and golds over the gray color of the length. It looked like it could ignite any minute in a fiery display.

Rain’s softly tapering, the flowy fins reminiscent of a blue paradise fish, the tendrils at the end, iridescent, catching the glint of the sun as it turned.

Most didn’t know that his tail ends would change depending on his emotion, Dew of course did. The blue sparkle was when he was at peace, happy. If a little red ran through it, he was feeling spicy, sexual, wanting. If it turns all red, you best watch out. Green was his usual color, content, but shy.

Dew had seen all of the colors in certain instances, and a mix of all in between. He usually kept his fluffy tail glamoured or tight around his body, most water ghouls learned early on that sharing their tail was giving enemies too much information about their feelings, it was wise to keep it hidden.

Rain fully trusted Dew, when they were together, there was no hesitation. Some of the pack had seen it too. Dew loved it, that Rain felt that comfortable with him, that there was no hiding.

He loved when Rain had it laid on the bed between them, the tendrils, silky and reactive to touch, would follow Dew’s fingers as they caressed him, straining to not break his touch. They came close to almost standing straight up, in search of Dew’s body, getting slightly purple on the ends when they couldn’t reach, in disappointment.

Dew loved teasing him, the petulant expression on Rain’s face as he looked at him, bottom lip threatening to slip out. Dew knew the moment before Rain would slip that lip out and would quickly wrap his own tail around Rain’s, holding it tight. Blue and red, entwined, the sparkling of Rain’s playing off the fire on Dew’s. Looking like a fire on a star filled night. Beautiful.

Now was no different, they had their tails wrapped around one another. They could both feel how hard the other was, but chose to ignore it for the time being, happy in their undisturbed closeness. Inhaling the other in, finding solace in the smell, the embrace.

They slowly drifted in and out of consciousness. As one would wake, they would run their hand along the others back in slow sweeping motions. Placing soft kisses wherever they could reach, whispering words of love.

As the sky started to darken, neither sure how long they stayed there in the other's embrace, they woke to gentle kisses, tongues slipping in the other's mouth. Dew moaning at the soft tip of Rain’s tongue as it ran along his, again much colder than his, soft, wet, demanding.

They could no longer hold back their passion for the other, swim shorts were quickly discarded, thrown into the sand wherever they landed. Their bodies found the rhythm they desired. Rain pulling himself on top of Dew, the wetness of their arousal on the other's body, between them, creating the perfect slip of skin to rub along the other.

Rain leaned over and pulled Dew’s paper white delicate skin into his mouth, sucking bruises all along his throat. Soon he couldn’t handle just rubbing their bodies along one another. Rain sank quickly onto Dew’s cock, bottoming out in one push. He sat up on top of Dew’s pelvis.

Dew looked up at him from his prone position, Rain above him, his skin bathed in moonlight from above, the stars a perfect backdrop against his body, they didn’t make him look better, Rain made them look better gracing the sky with his sharp and soft angles. He was a vision. His head thrown back as he gasped at the feel of Dew twitching inside of him.

He moved his hips in a circular motion, slow. His eyes half lidded, his lips ajar in pleasure. The waves crashing behind them covering their sounds of pleasure. Dew grabbed Rain’s hips, to anchor himself, to not float away in the feeling of his cock inside of him.

As they hit the perfect rhythm, their motions becoming fast and fervent, their bodies grinding hard against the other, Rain pulling himself up and almost off of Dew to slam back down, causing them to reach their orgasm hurriedly, rushing towards it and hurtling over the edge. Dew spilling inside of Rain, at the same time as Rain let go, his hot cum, pooling on Dew’s stomach.

They collapsed against each other, bodies sweaty. Sated. Love. This was all they needed.

Until it all disappeared in a blink of an eye again.

Ifrit must have hit him in the head or knocked him out. As he came to Ifrit was above him, Dew on the bed below. He had his hand around Dew’s neck, not squeezing, just applying pressure. Ifrit’s body was laid heavy upon his, it is all Dew could feel at first. The pressure, then the movement as he ground himself into him.

He had both of Dew’s wrists captured in his other hand, taut above his head. His tongue laved over Dew’s neck, he whispered into his ear as he got closer, “That’s right Droplet, I know you want it, I can feel you hard below me.”

Dew was hard, he couldn’t deny the feeling. But it couldn’t be because of Ifrit, it couldn’t.

Ifrit slowly let go of Dew’s neck, new bruises already forming from his fingertips, as he reached between them, grabbing Dew’s cock, in a hard grip. The moan that flew from his mouth disgusted him. Why was he reacting like this?

Ifrit quickly flipped Dew over, pushing his face into the pillow, the knock to the head still making Dew fuzzy and slow to respond. He grabbed his wrists again behind his back, pulling taut with one hand, the other making quick work of his button, pulling it apart, sliding the zipper down, pushing his pants below his hips.

Ifrit grabbed Dew by the hips and ripped the loose sweatpants he had on down, ripping them at the seams, practically tearing them from his body. Ifrit grabbed his dick, maybe he would just jack off on him, he had done that before.

No, he laid his body flush with Dew’s back, pushing his arms above his head again. He licked from his neck back up to his ear, again speaking in quiet tones as if there were other people who could hear them. Dew could feel his cock, sliding between his cheeks, the damp pre adding to the slick he was producing.

“You going to take it? I can feel how wet you are. You fucking want it. I know you do.”

All Dew could do was shake his head, as silent tears ran down his face. His body betraying him.

Ifrit pushed his fingers inside of him roughly, pushing two in at a time, in and out, scissoring them apart.

“Gotta get you ready baby, you remember how big I am, you fucking loved it when I would push inside of you, unprepared.”

Dew tried to buck him off, but his body was too weak from the weeks of malnourishment, his muscles started to atrophy from misuse. There was no way he could get away from him.

Ifrit pulled his fingers from him, slipping them into his mouth, as he moaned, “Fuck Droplet, you taste so good.”

He took the hand he had inside of him, to pull his hips up in the air and pushed inside of Dew, ignoring his scream.

“Tell me how much you like it baby, you missed this dick, I know you did. NO ONE, can satisfy you like I can. You’re already screaming in pleasure.”

“That’s right baby, take it. You feel so fucking good around my cock.”

He picked up his pace, slamming into Dew’s body, with absolute abandon. The fight left Dew as he comprehended he couldn’t stop this. Ifrit felt the tension abate. He let his hands go and pulled Dew up on his knees, holding him flush to his chest. His one hand going to play with his nipple and the other on Dew’s hard cock.

“So fucking hard for me baby. You going to cum? I could always read your body so well.”

He slammed in and out of Dew’s body, his hand on Dew matching the pace. Dew whimpered, he wouldn’t be able to stop his body from betraying him.

“Cum for me baby,” Ifrit grunted before his body stilled, and he bit down on Dew’s shoulder, biting through the skin as blood flooded his mouth and down Dew’s chest.

Dew tried to not let his body react, tried, but Ifrit didn’t stop even in the throes of his pleasure. As his hand flew over Dew’s cock, he felt the contraction and Dew spilled over his hand. His hot cum, almost as hot as the warm hand gripping him.

He sagged as his body spent itself. Ifrit pulled from him, throwing him on the bed below him, discarded. He shoved his fingers back in Dew’s abused hole, scooping copious amounts of cum to collect it, before flipping Dew over and shoving his fingers in his mouth. His other hand swept through the cum on Dew’s stomach, shoving those fingers in his mouth, before slamming their lips together, shoving his tongue in Dew again.

After he was done kissing and further abusing Dew, he pulled away, pulling his pants back up, leaving Dew on the bed in shock.

He looked back at Dew as he circled the bed, his eyes staring unseeing onto the ceiling.

“I knew you needed that baby, you kept calling out in your dreams for that water slut, he is no match for my cock is he?”

Dew didn’t answer, he just caved in on himself, pulling himself into the fetal position.

Ifrit sighed, annoyed. “Oh well, Droplet, he won’t want you ever again anyhow, maybe you're the slut, coming for me but professing your love for him. What a joke, it’s ok, we will do this again soon.”

As he pulled the door open, he turned one more time, “Eidolon, I know you're in here, clean him up. Maybe next time I will reward you too.”

He slammed and locked the door behind him.

Eidolon slid out from below the bed to see a broken Dewdrop on the bed, if he could be more broken then he was, covered in cum, blood and spit. Bruises blooming all over his body.

He went into the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth, and gently approached Dew to start to wipe him off. Dew flinched at the first touch of the warm towel, the tears continuing to fall.

“Dew, do you want a shower, I can help you get there, might help to get him off of you?”

When Dew didn’t answer, he picked up his body gently and carried him into the bathroom, to set him on the side of the tub as he turned it on. Making the water nice and hot.

Dew still wasn’t processing what was going on around him. As his body slid in the water, it slowly brought him back. He thought of the last time he showered with Rain. He quickly grabbed the trash can from the side of the tub and vomited, the nothing he had in himself.

Ifrit was right, Rain wouldn’t want him, hell he didn't want himself. He was a dirty, broken ghoul. The crying just got harder as he processed those thoughts.

He had to find a way to end it.

#rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #nameless ghouls #the band ghost #raindrop #ghost band #ghost fan fiction #fan fiction #dewdrop x rain #ifrit ghoul #emotional trauma #mina writes

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