#and I think I’ll genuinely enjoy it/the suffering

[not-your-lawyer]

Me:

[writes 4k words in a nearly six hour final]

Me:

[wrote a 35-page honors thesis in undergrad, routinely did well on 15-page papers on complex topics]

Me:

[writes polished, persuasive legal writing for a living]

Also me:

idk man I’m worried about law review

[theallegedbird]

everytime i get excited about tmagp i remember that jonny not only pretty much exclusively writes tragedies but also enjoys killing off his characters! :DDD that’s great!! i am so terrified :DD

[petrichorium]

I did the blade gameplay trial last night and I once again reiterate that while I was genuinely chill w losing jing yuan’s 50/50 I’m gonna be wayyy more sad if/when I lose blade’s 😭😭😭

His gameplay & animation is just so much more compelling to me deepest apologies to my husband (he deserves the slander)

[saetoru]

Do you think there could be a chance where reader and bully! gojo meet again years later and try again? Maybe 🥹

part one here — contents. fem! reader, exes to lovers, neighbors to lovers, slight nsfw so minors do not interact, slight angst but it’s a hopeful (pretty much happy) ending, idk what else lmk what i missed

imagine you guys are neighbors—you accidentally meet when you’re both walking up to your apartment doors one night after work. he pauses, and you can feel eyes staring into you from the side so you look over and yeah. wow. there’s your worst heartbreak of your youth standing right there in all his glory, staring at you like you’re a figment of his imagination come true. like he never expected to see you again (you suppose he probably didn’t).

“hey,” he says softly. satoru has never been one to greet someone first, never been the one to reach out and bridge the gap himself. he always waits to be approached. that much has surprisingly changed since the last time you saw him.

“oh…” you trail off, “hi. it’s you.”

you don’t seem half as happy to see him as he does you—but that much is to be expected, of course. satoru didn’t have the luxury of moving on, you can tell because you still can read him just as easy after all these years. like he hasn’t changed the small quirks about him, like he’s still tried desperately to hold onto his past because that’s where you were. he still looks desperately in love like the night you left him.

it’s pathetic, you wanna say. to still be in love for so long. when it’s so clearly over and there’s no coming back. a small part of you is filled with this sick, evil satisfaction that he’s still thinking about you when you don’t spare him a single thought.

but you suppose you’re not at over him as you thought when there’s this much excitement bubbling into you at his suffering. maybe, if you were actually completely over him, you’d be indifferent to him. you wouldn’t forget, but you’d forgive. you’d hope he learned his lesson and spared another innocent, poor girl from what you suffered for simply loving him. for simply wanting him to feel cherished and special and worth someone’s time.

you hope he’s better now—not for yourself, but for someone else. he doesn’t deserve a second of your time.

“you live here?” he asks, mildly shocked.

you’re almost offended. does he mean he thinks you can’t afford to live in the same apartment building as him? or is he just that shocked to see you? nothing about satoru seems genuine—you can’t help but assume the worst in him.

“yes,” you say curtly, “i moved here for work.” (why did you add that? why are you giving an opening to make conversation?)

“oh, really? me too,” he nods. (why is he making conversation? why couldn’t he have just ignored that opening and spared you the trouble?)

“oh,” is all you say. it’s silent for a bit, and then, “well, i better—”

almost like he knows what you’re about to say, he cuts you off with a quick, “i teach now.” you blink, staring at him in confusion. he rubs his neck as he adds, “i uh…i teach at that high school down the block. so uh…that’s why i moved here.”

“that’s…that’s nice,” you nod awkwardly. why is he telling you all this?

“yeah, my students are really cool,” he adds with a grin—it’s…a bit cute, actually. because he means it. his smile is too fond for it to not be true.

this isn’t the satoru you know—at least, not the one you think is the real satoru. you’re not so sure which side of him is actually him.

“i’m glad you enjoy what you do,” you offer. there’s not much else to say. “i’ll be heading in now.”

“right,” he coughs, “s-see you around.”

and then you really do see him around.

sometimes, it’s when you both leave in the mornings—he lets you enter the elevator first and presses the button for you when he gets in. he always lets you exit first too, like he cares to be chivalrous even if you’re not together anymore. sometimes it’s when you’re coming home—he’s holding a bag of take out as he walks up to his own door. you suppose he’s never been one to cook, and that probably hasn’t changed. sometimes, you’ll see him at the grocery store too—his cart is usually just filled with snacks and sweets. it’s not a very adult like shopping cart, so something’s evidently never change.

and every time he sees you, he always tries to strike up a conversation. no matter how short of a window your time is. even if it’s the forty five second elevator ride from floor one to floor three, he’s determined to say something.

today my students got me a gift—it’s a pair of sunglasses, because he still apparently loves those.

i got to take my students on a field trip today. i’ve been planning it for weeks—they have to write a paper on it, though. they’re not too happy about that even if they enjoyed themselves.

today was my student yuji’s birthday. i let the others out early to celebrate with him—they’re apparently all a good bunch of kids. friendly and tight knit in a way satoru’s never experienced. he thinks kids should hold onto that. good friends are hard to come by, after all.

and you’re always guarded. always so cautious and careful when you talk to him. sometimes you try to be polite, other times it’s abundantly apparent you don’t want to converse. he doesn’t pay it any mind, though. just rambles away and away and away and talks enough for the both of you because he’s just happy you’ll listen. even if begrudgingly.

and then one night, it happens—it’s late and you had to stay extra in the office. you’re grumpy and tired and the only good thing about this is that it’s late enough that you probably won’t run into satoru today.

except he’s waiting right there, head against your door as he fidgets with the door knob and grumbles incoherently under his breath.

“stupid damn door,” he slurs, “jus’ fuckin’ open.”

“ahem,” you clear your throat—he stiffens. “any particular reason you’re trying to break in?”

he turns to face you—stumbles a little as his glossed eyes look at you in confusion. he’s drunk—you can smell the liquor on him.

“whad’ya mean? ‘s my door,” he holds an arm out to gesture at your door.

“no,” you sigh, pointing to the door next to yours, “that one is.”

“oh!” he perks up, “‘s why it wasn’t working?”

“most likely,” you nod awkwardly, “that’s usually how that works.”

you watch as he unceremoniously stumbles over his steps to his door—how he tries but fails to get his keys through the key hole before you sigh and take pity on him. you don’t have it in you to leave a drunk person out in the cold, no matter how much (bad) history you might have.

“here,” you sigh, grabbing his keys from his hand and opening the door for him. you try to ignore that brief moment of warmth where your hands brushed against each other.

“do y’know what today is?” he mumbles, breath fanning over your shoulder as you open his door.

“i….tuesday?” you ask, in confusion. he looks crestfallen when you stare his face.

“oh, n-never—” he stumbles a bit. you catch him before you realize. “never mind.”

somehow, you barely manage to help him to his couch before he’s passing out, too drunk to really register anything else. satoru never drinks much—it was the funniest part about him. you used to tease him for it all the time, for being a frat boy who can hardly handle some alcohol.

i like being in control, he’d say petulantly, i don’t need to be drunk to have a good time. i am the good time.

you take a quick glance around his place before you can catch yourself. it’s not very different from your place—the living room is the same size and the structure is more or less the same. his tv is a bit more expensive, and his furniture is more simple. that’s about it.

you glance down at him one last time before walking out and shutting the door behind you. you hesitate for a moment before turning on the screen of your phone to check the date—it takes you a moment, but then it hits you.

it’s the day you broke up. all those years ago. it’s certainly been a good few—you almost forgot the date, but apparently satoru remembers. he remembers enough to go get shit-faced drunk as if the memory is too much to bear.

does he do this every year? drink away his sorrows every anniversary of the day you left him? does he really still care that much? why hasn’t he moved on?

and then you stop thinking about it. it’s not your problem.

but then you just…can’t help but be a bit more gentle around him. it happens without your control. maybe it’s muscle memory. maybe you’re finally letting your muscles relax and do that involuntary thing of their own that they do.

evidently that’s to be more soft with the boy who broke your heart. except he’s a man now, you suppose. he should’ve been a man when you dated him—but you’re glad he grew up eventually. even if you couldn’t be there with him for it.

but you’re a bit more friendly with him now—you suppose you can coexist with your talkative neighbor that also happens to be your awful ex boyfriend. you answer him a bit more when he talks to you, ask him about his students when he brings them up—he brightens so much when you do. it’s….painfully endearing.

yuji is sweet, a little too kind for his own good. nobara is a little tough to soften up, but once you do, she loves tenfold. megumi is a grump, but he’s a real softie. yuta is a bit socially awkward, but he’s got a good heart. maki is all business and very studious, but she’s a determined young girl. panda is not a panda—his name is odd but he’s funny. toge is quiet, but he looks out for people.

they’re good kids. he cares a great deal about them.

and then you start to tell him about your job. how your boss is another baldy that’s annoying—just like the professor you both shared. he chuckles at that. your coworkers are a good gossip, but you’d never go hang out with them outside of work. well, maybe except for one—utahime is a nice person, even if a bit of a priss sometimes.

it’s nice, talking to him. he’s funny, makes banter easily like it’s second nature. sometimes….sometimes it feels like old times. you’re not so sure how you feel about that, but you think it’s not bad. you can be grown ups, the two of you. you can be adults and ignore your immature past. the hurt is still there, but it’s manageable now. doesn’t linger and doesn’t weigh on you anymore.

sometimes satoru still stares at you in that way he did all those years ago, sometimes he still stutters over his words and loses his train of thought when he meets your eyes. he still loves you—you knew that from the start.

you stopped loving him a long time ago. that’s what you thought, anyway—but sometimes seeing satoru is….too familiar. it makes you feel things you thought you buried away for good. maybe it’s just deja vu, maybe it’s just the history speaking for itself.

or maybe…maybe you’re starting to tread a more dangerous path. the one that led you to your first, and worst heartbreak. you can’t step foot on that path again, no matter what.

that’s what you tell yourself, anyway—but satoru and you are talking one night. in front of your doors, like usual. you’re excited from a raise at work, and he’s excited because his students have done exceptionally on their final exams and you’re both celebratory in spirit enough that it turns into a cheery hug—and then…and then you’re kissing.

that wasn’t supposed to happen, but it does. you don’t know who kisses who, but you’re both wrapped up in each other and your lips are pressed against the others and oh, he feels so, so familiar.

like home. even if it’s not always safe to be there anymore, it’s still your home. you can’t let go of that nostalgia.

and then his hands cup your cheeks and your arms wrap around his neck and suddenly he’s in your bed—your door was already unlocked and the two of you somehow managed to stumble through the entire apartment until your back hits your mattress. your place is similar enough to his that he finds your room without any issues.

it was never supposed to happen—the shedding of clothes and the desperately needy kisses. the way you held his face and he held you. the way he trembled as he touched you, scared he’d mess it up again. the way you laced your fingers and kissed him between his brows like old times.

and then he fucks you like he means it. has his head in the crook of your neck and sniffles into your skin, rolls his hips and makes you mewl his name while he tells you every good thing about you.

you’re beautiful, the prettiest he’s ever seen. you’re so soft when you love, so delicate with the ones who hold your affection, it’s too much for anyone to deserve. you’re laugh is like music, a melody that’s impossible to grow tired of. but the most important part? you look at everyone like they’re worth something—just for existing, just for being there with you and crossing your path. worth your time, and energy, and compassion. they never have to work for it.

it’s rare, finding someone like that. it’s even more rare to get them to fall in love with you—satoru has never stopped regretting letting that go.

he whispers that all through breathy moans and the occasional cracked sob. whimpers when your fingers lock into his hair and pull the strands when his swollen tip kisses that spot he never forgot how to find. you cum first, falling apart with a gasp—and he cums right after, like feeling you is what it takes to make him come undone.

you still do that thing you did—rubbing his back as he spills into you, soothing him as he pants harshly into your skin. the only difference is that you don’t kiss his head sweetly and call him yours. god, he misses that so, so badly.

when his body slumps over yours, it’s when it hits you, what you just did.

“oh no,” you breathe, “oh god. we….we shouldn’t have done that, should we?” you ask tiredly.

satoru’s lip is trembling—he can’t bear to have you regret him. not again.

“i love you,” he says desperately, “i…i never stopped.”

“obviously you didn’t love me enough,” you mumble, not looking at him. it’s something you’ve realized—looking satoru in his eyes makes you weak.

you can’t have that.

“i’ll love you more than enough now,” he promises.

“what if i say i don’t love you anymore, satoru?” you challenge, “it’s been years. i didn’t wait around for you.”

his breath shakes at that. you think you got him there, but apparently he’s determined. it shocks you.

“then i’ll love enough for the both of us.”

for a moment, you can’t help but think if only everyone could see him now. years later. gojo satoru begging you to let him love you hard enough that you don’t have to. being okay with half of you because that’s better than none of you.

it’s almost comical. maybe a little sad. entirely avoidable if he’d just been brave from the start.

“that’s not fair to you,” you sigh, “you’re an asshole but…but you don’t deserve that. you deserve someone who can love you—”

“then i’ll show you,” he grabs your hand, pressing it to his face as he looks at you with enough hope that it’s almost too cruel to crush it. even for someone like him. “i’ll show you how to love me again. it’ll be easier this time. i promise.”

there’s a tear that slips down his cheek—and then another and another and another. and your thumb, just like muscle memory, swipes it away.

you want to tell him—it’s always been so, so easy to love satoru. easier than anything in the world. easier than loving yourself. it came like second nature, flowed through your blood stream and pumped through your heart. you loved him so easily.

you wish he’d loved himself a little bit easier back then. maybe he’d have realized who was worth keeping and who wasn’t. maybe he’d be happier now—a selfish part of you thinks you could’ve been happier that way too.

“satoru,” you sigh, “i have more self respect these days.”

“i know,” he nods, “i’ll be good—so good. i promise. i’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and we can have three cats and i’ll pay for the vet visits. just like you always wanted.”

you can’t help but chuckle at that. he’s always known how to be charming at the right times.

“and what about the fancy window i always wanted?”

“i’ll get you one of those too,” he swears, “find us a nice place by the school and your job and we’ll be the best cat parents ever. and i’ll be good. so good.”

“i can’t do that all again,” you shake your head, “crying over someone like you is not worth it.”

“i won’t make you cry,” he insists.

something in you screams to believe him—that voice from your youth. that one that never quite stopped falling in love. that one that can’t ever really let him go.

“you don’t deserve me,” you mumble, pulling him close. he tucks his head into your neck, kisses your skin and breathes you in like he needs you to live.

maybe he does.

“i know,” he murmurs. “but i love you. i’ll make you love me again.”

“good luck,” you snort—your hand weaves into his hair, and your lips kiss his head.

well….maybe he’s already succeeded.

[indecisivemuch]

Flatline

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: A certain hospital equipment exposed Luke's feelings for you (funny, fluff, friends to lovers, banter dynamic, minor injuries, happy ending).

Note: I’m sorry if this is not as good as my other works, writers block + being sick has been killing me.

Word count: 2.7k

It was somewhat strange at first to see Luke in normal clothing rather than that bright orange camp shirt that you’ve grown so familiar with. But after spending four days outside of camp and on a quest together, you’ve actually somewhat grown fond of the sight. You could still vividly remember the moment he picked you as his quest companion without an ounce of hesitation. It wasn’t surprising, considering you two have always made a good team, a likely result of training with each other for three years straight. Nevertheless, it warmed your heart that you were his first pick. 

“Are you okay?” You asked inspecting Luke's wound as he sat against a tree and sighed in relief when you realized the cut was not too deep. 

Just a couple of minutes back, you two were walking through the forest and on your way to the nearest bus stop that could take you back to camp. However, the universe must have thought the long journey was not enough of suffering because somehow, you two came across a chimera that managed to claw your arm and Luke in the abdomen. 

“It’s not too bad. I think we can still make it to the last bus if we just quickly wrap your wounds up,” you noted. 

Meanwhile, all Luke could do was watch you. He knew he should be listening, but how could he when you were so attentive to him at that moment? He hungrily took in the way you were taking care of him in such a worried manner as if you were his personal guardian angel. Part of him wanted to soothe your worries, but he selfishly wanted to enjoy it this time because it was for him. 

“Hey, did you hear what I said?” you asked when you didn’t hear a reply. You turned towards Luke, but was quickly caught off guard. 

There was something sincere and sweet about the way he was staring at you. However, somewhere along three years of knowing him, you have concluded that Luke Castellan must have made it one of his life missions to annoy you because he has never passed up on any opportunities for flirty antics just to see you grow flustered. Hence, you ignored how he was gazing at you, though you scowled at yourself internally upon feeling your cheeks warm up. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” you forced out. 

“Like what?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Luke almost chuckled at how you started blushing from just the way he was watching you. Oh, if only you knew. Luke loved getting your attention on him. He would snatch up any chance just to have your eyes on him or to have you care for him. The boy loved just seeing you blush over his little teasings. It was also fascinating to him how you never realized the true intentions behind his actions. Luke knew that half the camp probably knew that he was absolutely dotted on you from the way he was acting like a five-year-old boy chasing after his crush. Though, you always deemed his words and gestures as playful and jokes rather than genuine.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied. However, the cheeky grin on his face told you otherwise, and you hit his arm in retaliation. “Ouch, is that the way to treat an injured person?” Luke joked.

“You’re barely injured. The wound is not even that deep.” 

“Well…surely, if it’s not that bad, you can just kiss it better, right?” Your cheeks tinted a more evident shade of pink at his words, and you let out a deep sigh before giving Luke a playful glare. He only smirked at this, and Gods, you found that annoying yet endearing at the same time. Meanwhile, the boy was proudly relishing the idea that he was the cause of the blush that was adorning your cheeks.

“Okay, I say, let’s find somewhere safer, and then I’ll disinfect and wrap your wound up, yeah?” You suggested, purposefully deciding to ignore Luke’s previous words.

“Yes, ma’am.” Luke breathed out. 

However, before you could help Luke up and relocate, two hikers spotted the both of you. It was a middle-aged married couple, and you slightly cursed under your breath. As you predicted, they started panicking at the sight of Luke’s bleeding wound and asked if you both needed help.

“Oh no, we’re fine,” you tried saying, though you could see the husband already calling 911. “Seriously, we have this handled,” you tried to reassure them, reaching out to the husband so he’d put the phone down, but the wife touched one of your shoulders.

“How did this happen?” the over-caring strangers asked.

“It was…a bear,” you settled on saying, grimacing when you realized you were less convincing than you wanted. You hoped the woman would not ask for further elaborations because that would require the impromptu level you were not ready to play at.

“The ambulance should be here soon,” the husband informed while keeping 911 on the line, and you abruptly turned to him. Now, your mind started panicking. You two were meant to keep a low profile.

“What? No, he’s really fine. It’s just a minor injury. Look! He’s practically like he always is. Right, Luke?” You turned back to Luke, hoping he’d attest to your words against these strangers. However, you were caught off-guard by the sight of him with his eyes closed instead. “Luke?” you called again, this time louder. Yet, you were met with the same response - utter silence.

Then came the sound of sirens, and the next thing you knew, you were sitting on a chair next to a hospital bed where Luke was lying still. You’ve been sitting there for two hours, calmly waiting for the boy to wake up after recovering from the initial panic over the thought of something seriously wrong with him. The only noise in the room was from the ticking clock on the opposite wall to you, as well as the occasional sound of magazine pages being turned.

“Y-Y/N…?” The quiet sound of Luke calling out your name pulled you out of your thoughts, and you looked up from the magazine in your hand. “Where are we?”

“The hospital,” you answered promptly. You watched as the Hermes cabin counselor looked down at the item in your hand, then back up at your face again. 

“Well, you seem awfully calm. Not even worried at all about me?” You almost chuckled at his words, slightly in disbelief that even after getting knocked out, Luke somehow still had the energy to joke.

“Nah, the doctor told me you were going to be fine. Apparently, it was the mild concussion from knocking your head against the tree that made you pass out. Said you’d be up in like three hours or so.” Luke nodded as he remembered the chimera shoving him, causing him to bash his head against a tree. The boy sat up on the hospital bed, and you helped him by adjusting his pillow so he could lean against it.

“So you would have cared otherwise?” He gave you a teasing grin. Things like that had you thinking sometimes if he was just being playfully flirty or if he meant more. Luke does not seem to do this with anybody else at camp. But once again, you ruled out the theory of him having feelings for you in that way. 

“Only because I would not have anybody else to harass if you die,” You poured Luke a glass of water and handed it to him. He only smiled at your witty reply and took a sip of water. However, you took the opportunity to be honest, just so he’d at least know that you do care about him, despite the sarcastic remarks before.

“On a serious note, though… I’m glad you’re okay, Luke,” you sent Luke a sweet smile. Though there it was again — that look. However, for some reason, he didn’t whip up a clever, flirty line to joke around, which made you wonder what was on his mind.

Meanwhile, Luke felt as if his lungs had lost half its capacity. Gods, under the moonlight, you looked ethereal. It made him wonder for a second whether he was in a coma because you felt too good to exist in this ever-so-cruel world. Don’t even get him started on the way you were smiling at him, so sweet like caramel that his eyes were tracing to forever remember. He internally sighed, wondering how many more signs must he give out before you would get that he was genuinely interested in you.

You misinterpreted Luke’s look as one of vulnerability. Your brain theorized that maybe he was shaken from the chimera attack, so you slowly but surely grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. However, you didn’t notice the slight hitch in Luke’s breath as soon as you did this. His eyes almost fluttered shut at how nice it was to have your hand around his. If he could hold your hand every day, he absolutely would. You started rubbing your thumb on his knuckles as well. Oh, to be somebody you found worth worrying about and caring for. Luke thought maybe he did win the lottery after all. He could feel his heart wanting to crack his ribcage open to jump out of—

Unexpectedly, you heard a sudden continuous beeping from one of the equipment nearby and looked at it. Luke followed your gaze, and his face immediately started flushing over the drastic change in the heart monitor’s graphic representation of his heartbeat. The beeping still continued when you looked back at him with evident concern on your face.

“Woah, are you alright?” Luke tried muttering an affirmative answer but froze when you leaned closer and lightly graced his forehead with your hand. The boy gulped while you were cluelessly trying to see if he was coming down with a fever or not — which you assumed he was due to the way his face seemed to have warmed up. However, you were greeted with a normal body temperature and the sound of the heart monitor beeping even faster.

Suddenly, everything clicked. You cast your gaze on Luke again, tilting your head in amusement.

“Am I making you flustered?” Luke’s cheeks flared even more at your words. The Hermes cabin counselor looked away from you, taking his hand out of yours now as he attempted to slow down his heartbeat. However, you immediately took hold of his face and moved it back towards you. A mischievous grin grew on your face as you took in Luke’s blushing. How could you pass up the opportunity to finally torment him and get him flustered, especially when he has been doing the same thing to you for the past years?

Luke watched as you had him wrapped around your fingers both figuratively and literally, smirking as if you knew you had entire control over him. But he knew you only knew the surface level of it because even he doesn’t know the extent to which he would go for you. The only thing he knew was that he was in deep, deep trouble. He knew whatever part of him that was logical would perish as soon as you let him be yours. Yet he did not seem to mind discarding all his senses and submitting to whatever these feelings were.

“Careful there, Castellan, keep looking at me like that, and I might just have to believe you’re secretly obsessed with me.” You were only joking, but the way his eyes fluttered when you said that made you gulp. 

“And what if I tell you I am?” At his words and the sound of his heartbeat speeding up on the heart monitor, you froze. 

It was as if all the clues had come crashing down at once. It finally sunk in for you that perhaps you were wrong this whole time for thinking Luke was not into you. Because now, this hospital room had somehow become a crime scene filled with evidence of his feelings for you - the way he was intensely looking at you with dilated pupils, the uncontrollable speed of his heartbeat that you could feel where your fingers lay near his neck and pulse point, his shallow and nervous breathing, the beeping sound from the heart monitor that would make others think it has gone haywire, and most of all, the earnest and resigned look on his face as if he had already embraced the fact that his feelings for you would not change whether or not they would be reciprocated.

Your hand left his face to brush his dark curls. Your eyes cast down at his lips quickly before looking back up. You noticed the yearning in his eyes and how he copied your actions. 

“...Can I?” Luke uttered breathlessly as if all the air in his lungs had been replaced with pure, relentless wanting. Even as a victim of heavy longing and subjected to desire, Luke still awaited the green light. His eyebrows slightly scrunched as if silently asking for permission, and you knew exactly what he wanted when he glanced down at your lips again. 

One tiny nod from you, and he pulled you in. His hands delicately held the sides of your face as your lips clashed. Almost instantly, Luke felt as if he might flatline soon from the way your kiss was seemingly sending him into a cardiac arrest. He practically melted as you giggled into the kiss when the heart monitor started beeping even more frequently, indicating Luke’s increasingly erratic heartbeat. Something about this moment felt so urgent yet endearing like a long-awaited wish come true.  

Slowly but surely, he wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you up onto his hospital bed effortlessly, as if desperately needing you to just be closer to him. You both somewhat laughed at this before you wrapped both arms around his shoulders without breaking the kiss. 

One of your hands started playing with his hair. You were not sure why but you pulled it and almost instantly, Luke had to break away from the kiss as a raspy groan escaped his lips. Your other hand on the side of his face and neck could feel the way it echoed as a hum in his throat, and you gulped at your effect on him.

Luke licked his lips as he stared at you again. He came to the conclusion that after that kiss, you were wrong that he was obsessed with you. Instead, he was everything above that - devoted, fervently fixated, infatuated, an addict who shamelessly wanted and needed you. Gods, maybe he was a madman when it came to you.

Your eyes flickered to the clock nearby and noticed it was 4:41am, realizing there was just enough time for the two of you to leave the hospital and catch the next bus back to camp. That prompted you to whisper, “I think we should leave now. If we do, we’ll be on time for the next bus.” Luke groaned at your words while you hopped off the hospital bed and grabbed your jacket. The boy unhooked himself from the heart monitor, though his eyes lingered on it for a bit while a smile grew on his face. 

“Why the rush?” He asked, grabbing his own jacket before opening the door for you.

“Cause as lovely as that was, I don’t want to make out again in a hospital,” Luke froze before grinning at your words.

“Oh, does that mean it might happen again? Us making out?” He asked, watching as a cheeky smile grew on your face despite you opting to just shrug at his question. You fanned your hand out before him, smiling even more when he put his hand in yours. 

With that, you led him out of the hospital hand in hand while he grinned like a fool behind you.

Honestly, Luke would blindly go anywhere you lead him.

-------------------------

masterlist

join my Luke Castellan taglist

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[joosthead]

We need more bottom joost content im so fucking serious…I need subby joost or I’ll explode RAUGHHHHHH

FUCK i love a subby man ... i fully agree we need more subby joost bc just look at him. guhh . anyways hope you enjoy these thoughts teehee it's genuinely filthy pls heed my warnings. also i'm unsure honestly if this is subby more than it is about edging and overstim but . send me another ask w more thoughts if you'd like something different as well < 3

₊˚⊹⋆ reader: nb!reader. lmk if i missed something and it's not nb, i will change accordingly!!

₊˚⊹⋆ cw: smut (unprotected sex, edging & overstim m!receiving), drunk sex (both drunk, but this is where edging comes in). send an ask if you need more details about this part <3

rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it!! you've been warned. do not repost this on any other platform.

18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni.

in general i feel like so much of his vibe is so pillow princey. he loooveess to lie down and take whatever you'll give him

he generally is a tease and loves being teased, and i think this is a huge part of his submissiveness—i won't pretend like i think he's the biggest subbiest sub ever with how fluid he is but i do think in every session together, he lurvsss some teasing and edging.

absolutely adores a handjob w edging. sunday morning and he's so so hard cuz he just woke up that way and he has to wake u up. you roll over and you're like "are you actually serious?" but you're not gonna let your baby suffer (and you tell him such, which makes him even harder). he doesn't know what's gotten into him—he's usually much stronger than this, usually the one pampering you, making you ask for it, but he fully turns so whiny when like this. in minutes, you have him moaning like a bitch, teasing him with your tongue but never actually taking him into your mouth; when he gets close, you cease your stroking of his cock, and watch as it's like his entire body reacts to it, and hear how labored and heavy his breathing gets when you've brought him to the precipice, but never over. a beautiful sight, his pink cheeks amidst his pale skin, the rosy color creeping down his neck and his chest and the leaking angry pink tip of his cock, wet and slick as you stroke him to completion.

loves being taken care of fsfs. being called pretty, handsome, pretty boy (this one especially). it's so serious for him. loves getting his ego stroked in all ways possible, but especially if he's on his knees for you.

it really never happens except for when you're drunk but. he fucking loves when ur both sloppy drunk and all you can really think is your own pleasure. there was one time you two came home from the club, kissed all the way up the stairs, you palming him through his jeans the entire way; then the moment you got him laid down on the bed, you rode him, got off, rolled over, and went to sleep. he had to jerk off by himself to get the edge off, looking at you next to him on the bed the whole time. in the moment, it was very (sad violin noises) but looking back on it—that drunk and frenzied look in your eyes, almost like you didn't care about him or his pleasure...it was so hot and a little part of him felt ashamed for thinking so.

but the shame never sticks around too often, never lingers. he knows you care about him, knows that it was just a symptom of one too many drinks and his hands exploring your body (i.e. your hips and ass) the entire night to make you use him the way you did.

drunk or not, i think his favorite occurrence is when you're riding him and he just gets to watch you lose it atop him, grinding back and forth on it. it may not be the most stimulating for him specifically. but seeing you use him, the only thought in your mind your own pleasure—he really loves it.

i don't think he'd be into being edged when you're actually fucking—the better alternative to being used like a toy is overstimulation. when he cums before you, there's something in his head that insists that he has to make you cum one more time before he can rest. then you say, "please, just a little more, joost," and he knows he has to do it. strangled, he says, "i can't, i can't do it anymore, schat," but he knows he should, sloppily thrusting into you before he gets soft, the pain of the overstimulation completely lost on him in the venture for your own pleasure.

i also have a lot of (good. great even) feelings about joost talking ab liking his ass eaten but idk if i can go that far here yet

i need him

[anemptypuddingcup]

babiii marrriiii 🥺 can I request some dubcon with the rainbow boys (Niji, Yonji, and Ichiji) as vampires? Poor me just wanted to hunt down their dicks heads for some money but I got caught 😓 that’s the idea! thank you lovee ❤️🙏🏼

One heart for all of us.

Vinsmoke brothers (Ichiji, Niji, Yonji & Sanji) x Female Reader.

@stephisokay Mamas I had to do a WHOLE BUNCH of research on the power rangers for you so I could write this. Enjoy though, I love you! I made it a bit dark but I’m sure you don’t mind that-

Contains: !!DARK CONTENT AHEAD!! Minor blood warning. Dub-con. Somewhat medieval speech? Vampire Vinsmoke brothers (yes Sanji’s in here too Sanji’s just an extra gift to you from me-) Vampire hunter Reader. Sanji against his other brothers ideas but joins in anyways with Reader’s consent. Degradation. Bondage. Fingering. Oral (Reader, Ichiji & Yonji receiving). Biting. Vaginal & Anal. Double penetration. Dumbification. Gang bang. (This is my first time writing a gang bang post, bear w me.) Surprisingly, this shit has plot in it!

“MMHH! MMGH!” You struggled to move as you wriggled like a worm on Yonji’s shoulder. Niji giggles as he walked behind his brother, picking at you while you gave him a dark glare. “I’ll admit she had put up a good fight, too bad she’s just a human. She would’ve been stronger if she was something other than that.” Yonji expressed his admiration for your persistence.

Goddammit. How in the hell did you get caught? You could’ve sworn you had the upper hand, but then again you did underestimate them…and that’s your fault.

You peer around and realized that the brothers were taking you into their home, a large castle where the Vinsmoke brothers had lived. Walking down through the stone walls and past red carpet, Yonji carried you though the long corridor until he had finally entered a room.

Niji pushes the door open and you quickly turn around. Your eyes met with Ichiji’s glasses and Sanji’s shocked eyes.

“Brother! Look what we’ve found! Isn’t she adorable?” Yonji smiles widely as he held you on his shoulder. “Put her down! She’s a human you idiot. Probably another vampire hunter.” Ichiji demands. Sanji rushes in and his heart drops into his stomach as his eyes met with your pretty curves. A woman. Another woman here to suffer and be used like a toy for his brothers.

Yonji sets you down onto the soft bedding below and you begin to struggle on the mattress, cursing yourself in your binds for getting caught by the evil vampires.

“Whatever shall we do brother? She was snooping around, so we have to do something.” Niji whispers to Ichiji. The three of them surrounded while Sanji stood in the back in silence. It was a stressful situation, watching them stare down at you like you were filth made you feel uncomfortable if not worse.

Ichiji gives you a scornful look through his glasses, adjusting his cloak before he crosses his arms. “It’s quite a shame, she couldn’t even lay a finger on me and neither Niji~ You thought you could just try and shove a stake in our heart cutie?” Yonji giggles, sliding a finger underneath your chin. You pull away and glare at him, watching him laugh before pulling away from you.

You peek around to Sanji who gives you a saddened gaze, he genuinely felt bad for you. Not just because you were a woman but because you didn’t know what these three men were capable of doing, Sanji’s seen everything when it came to his brothers. “What do you intent to do with her. She can’t do anything about hunting us. We are vampires and she’s a vampire hunter, have you thought about that you idiots?” Sanji asks, his curly brows furrowing in anger as he stared at his disgraceful siblings.

“It’s what they do, it’s what humans do to make money. We all have a bounty on our head and she’s just doing her job for money.”

“I may think that’s disgraceful to us, but that doesn’t mean we have to treat her like this! She’s a lady for Christ’s sake!”

They all turn to Sanji, a silence falling across the room before Niji and Yonji starts to chuckle in amusement. “Oh silly brother, have you ever thought that she was probably going to kill you too? You’ve gotten soft nowadays.” Niji sighs between his chuckles. “I’m so sorry for you.” Sanji says softly to you, walking over and staring down at your bound body. Your gaze softens to him and you sigh though your gag.

Ichiji pushes Sanji away, scoffing as he crouches down in front of you.

“You’ve gone soft. Way too soft Sanji.”

A grip to your strands startles you as Ichiji pulls your hair, making you lift your head to face him. You groan out and he moves his shades to peek at you, a snicker leaves his lips as he watched you try to pull your head away. “This human filth is what you sympathize for? This is why us vampires are looked down upon because of people like you, Sanji. You’re making us look like weaklings. Even though you are one yourself.”

Sanji scoffs and crosses his arms before turning away, angered by Ichiji’s remarks. The brothers turns back to you and you stare up at them with anger in your eyes. “Looks like she’s fired up now~ What should we do with her now dear brother?” Niji asks, peeking at Ichiji. Ichiji smiles darkly as he stared at you before looking back at Sanji.

“Let’s have a little bit of fun, shall we?”

“Sanji! Come over here!”

“We’re going to show you what it means to be a vampire, a superior being who’re above these useless beings.”

Ichiji walks over to your body and you scoot away from him only for him to grip the waistband of your jeans and pull you closer to him. All three of his brothers surround and watch from behind him as they watched him pull your gag from your lips, a smirk appearing across his face as he stares at you.

You didn’t say a word, you didn’t have a single thing to say to such people who violated anyone they pleased.

“Have nothing to say little lady? You’re more feisty than others we’ve had, I like you. Sanji!” Ichiji quickly turns over to Sanji and he peeks his head up before looking away in disgust.

“Cmon, you’re a sucker for women aren’t you? You already get upset when we capture one, why don’t you do it this time?-“

“I refuse.”

“Ah, I thought you’d might say that. Have you ever considered that she’s a source of blood? You could drink all the liters you’d want to~”

Ichiji’s tried his best to persuade Sanji, and eventually he’d won him over. Sanji hasn’t bothered to take any type of blood from the victims they’ve brought in, regardless of it’s a woman or a man. Though as a vampire, Sanji has to do what had to be done to ensure he wouldn’t grow too hungry and weak.

He sighs and walks over to you defeatedly, hearing Niji and Yonji chuckle beside him while he walked past them. “Finally you’re coming to your senses as a vampire Sanji.” Niji remarks, following behind him. Sanji stood over you and you stared up at him.

At least he had a bit of sense, but he didn’t really have a choice.

“Do it Sanji. Take her clothes off.” Ichiji demanded of Sanji. Sanji looks down at you and sighs heavily, his hands moving to the button of your shirt. He unbuttons your shirt and pulls it open, a bit of blush dusting his cheeks as he pulls it open.

“What a whore she is, she doesn’t even have a bra on!” Yonji snickers, his hand reaching up and groping your pretty breast. You mewl out suddenly as you felt Yonji touch you and he smiles at your little noise. “Such a sweet little noise, do it again~” Yonji demanded, his hands groping both of your breasts. You gasp out as he massaged them, playing with them like putty in his hands. Niji moves in closer, licking his lips as his eyes landed on your smooth and soft skin.

“She does have pretty skin, this one may be worth our precious time.” Niji says before turning over to Ichiji and Sanji. Ichiji smirks to Sanji and Sanji look away from him, he couldn’t stand to see or do anything about the situation anymore. “See? At least Niji and Yonji seem to enjoy her. They didn’t seem enjoy the last one, she screamed too much.”

“Shut the hell up. I don’t want to hear about it.”

Ichiji presses a hand to Sanji’s shoulder. “Fine then. You can sit back and watch as we prep our meal, maybe if you’re lucky enough we’ll save some for you.” He snickers before walking up to you.

“Well brothers. Shall we see what this woman’s got? She might be tasty~” Ichiji announces, licking his lips as his eyes basically fucked your figure. You give him a determined yet worrisome look. It would be a pain to die this way, but you supposed that if you were gonna die you might as well enjoyed yourself.

That was only because you didn’t necessarily have a choice.

The brothers immediately scramble to pull your jeans and panties off, their mischievous faces meeting up with your pretty little cunt while you sat there in your own shame and slight arousal. “She smells so good~” Niji hums, his thick hands pressing against your soft and pretty thighs. They crowded you and inhale your sweet scent, you smelled so fucking good. With Ichiji against your neck and the other two against your pretty thighs, it was easy to say you felt surrounded with them around your body.

Yonji slides two fingers along your slit and you gasp out before pulling back. Gripping your hip, he keeps you still while he teases at your cunt. “Don’t be shy~ You can moan out.” Ichiji whispers to you, pressing his chapstick-covered lips against your pretty neck. You mewl out and he chuckles in amusement. “Adorable aren’t you? I wonder how much of that voice you can release.” Niji asks, his fingers rubbing and massaging at your clit.

You gasp out suddenly as you felt Yonji slide his fingers into your hole, your walls enveloping his two digits and coating them in your slick.

You rest your head against Ichiji’s shoulder as Niji and Yonji went to work on your cunt, with Niji pressing smooches at your clit and Yonji already fingering you. You thrust your hips up slightly, a heavy gasp leaving your lips as you heard Ichiji chuckle beside you. “So cute isn’t she, she might be a keeper if she’s obedient enough. Don’t you think so Sanji?” Ichiji asks, calling out to Sanji.

Sanji kept his head away from the scene, but the lewd sounds and the sound of your moans were pulling him in, causing him to grow hard within his slacks. “Ah~ Mmhh!~” You only mewl out and grip Ichiji’s shirt through your binds, biting your lower lip while your eyebrows begin to furrow. Niji’s tongue was doing wonders on your clit, the tag team between both him and Yonji only made your legs tremble heavily from the pleasure. “P-Please- M-Mhh!~ T-That feels- s-so good~” You whine out, arching your back against Ichiji.

“Damn, she really is a cutie. Her moans are the prettiest we’ve heard so far~” Yonji says, looking up at you. You peek down at both Niji and Yonji, sighing heavily as you took their tongue and fingers. The feeling of Ichiji’s fingers sliding along your neck made you shiver and he groped your breasts, playing with them and pinching at your softened buds. Niji stops suckling at your clit and pulls away, watching your face contort from the pleasure of his two brothers pleasuring you.

“Mmgh~ A-Ahh~” You mewl out and squirm against the brothers while you felt your orgasm growing closer, your toes curling as you being to succumb to the pleasure. “She’s tightening around my fingers~ You’re starting to like it aren’t you?~” Yonji asks, his head laying against your left thigh while his fingers begin to pump inside of your cunt. You whine out as you felt his fingers kiss your g-spot, repeatedly shoving them hard against your sweet and sensitive spot.

“How does that feel sugar? Don’t my thick fingers feel wonderful in your slutty pussy?” Yonji asks you, teasing you while his other hand tends to your clit. Yonji had noticed that Niji had stopped lapping at your clit, allowing him to take over your entire cunt for himself while Niji stayed back.

“Come on sweetie~ Giving me the silent treatment is so rude, especially since I’m pleasing you down here~” Yonji pouts playfully to you, pressing a smooch to your clit before sliding his tongue along the sensitive pearl.

You moan out from his touch and you feel his lips curl up against your cunt.

You feel a sudden piercing pain deep within your inner thigh like needles, and you yelp out in sudden pain once your body reacts. You peer down and see that Niji had taken a bite into your thigh, sucking up your blood without warning. Ichiji, Sanji and Yonji raise their heads and stare at Niji.

“Dammit Niji, you didn’t think to tell anyone you were biting yet!?” Yonji yells, peering at him. “You were rather impatient weren’t you Niji? At least let us know.” Ichiji sighs at Niji’s impatience.

Niji hums and removes his fangs, humming at the flavor of your blood drenching his tongue. “Oh god she’s so sweet! It’s so rich and so good!~” Niji mewls happily. Ichiji and Yonji’s ears twitch at his words and they suddenly want to have a taste and see for theirselves.

Sanji looks up from his chair and he watches as his other brothers sink their fangs into your pretty skin, making you whine out suddenly and squirm around in pain. You struggled against them but they keep you still while they suck up your blood hungrily. You quickly grow lightheaded, and you feel your body growing weak there more they drink.

“Niji’s right…You’re blood tastes so sugary~”

“Better than the others we’ve had!~ I want another sip already~“

The brothers stared at your weak body, now noticing that you weren’t moving much. Your eyes were fluttering and you were having a hard time staying conscious. Ichiji smacked your face a bit, waking your back and and pulling you back into consciousness. “Come on come on, don’t die on us cutie pie.” He whispers to you, making you tremble from his words.

“Cmon Ichiji, the taste of her blood’s got my dick hard. Can’t I go on and fuck her already?” Niji asks, quirking a brow to him. Ichiji chuckles and shrugs. “I’m taking her throat. You and Yonji can choose whichever hole you want to fuck.” Ichiji says, pointing to your lower body. Niji and Yonji stare at each other and smirk before flipping your body over on the soft bedding. You moan out as you felt sluggish and tired, a bit too weak to do anything while blood spilled from your wounds.

“Come on Sanji. You always skip out on the fun stuff~ You keeping yourself pent up like that ain’t good now is it?” Yonji asks, laughing at him.

Sanji finally walks over and he sighs before pulling his cloak off. “Oh? So you’re finally joining us?” Ichiji asks, quirking a brow to him.

“Only if the woman allows me some relief. If not then I’m leaving.” He says to Ichiji firmly. You peer up at Sanji as he walks over and crouches down to you, his face giving you a sympathetic look before he sighs. “Miss…If you don’t mind.” He says to you, his brows furrowing as he looks at your weakened face. You let out a lengthy sigh and and nod your head, giving Sanji permission to touch your body unlike his brothers.

“Please…Sanji.” You beg him, knowing that he’ll at least go gentle on you. You jolt suddenly as you felt Sanji crawl onto the bed with you, pulling your body close before he lies onto his back against the bed. “Hey! I wanted to fuck her pussy you piece of shit!” Yonji yells, being the stingy and spoiled brat that he was.

“Hush Yonji. She said I could. Since I’m bothering to do this anyway, I get to choose where I want to fuck her..” Sanji groans, glaring at him darkly. Yonji rolls his eyes before walking over to Ichiji’s side, settling in taking your mouth instead with Yonji.

Sanji slides your hips against his aching cock, hissing out suddenly as he felt your cunt soak his slacks. He unbuckles his belt and pulls his slacks and briefs down, revealing his long and slender cock to you. He pulls your hips up, pressing them against his hard and hot cock.

Niji presses your body down and up against Sanji’s body while he pulls his slacks and briefs down, rubbing the tip of his hardened cock against your ass. You shudder suddenly as you felt his tip against your rear entrance and part of you felt a bit uneasy about dry anal. Thankfully, Niji needed a smooth way of entering inside of you and a wave of relief washes over you as you felt him drool out onto your rear entrance.

You moan at the warmth of his spit running down your ass and you shudder against Sanji while his breathing grew shaky.

Ichiji and Yonji unbuckle their belts and pull their slacks and briefs down and your eyes widens a bit as their cocks pop and hits their lower tummies. Ichiji cups your face and smiles widely at your expression. “Shocked to see that our dicks are long hm? I hope you take them good deep down your throat like the filthy whore you are.” Ichiji teases, his hand gripping your strands.

Yonji gets a handful of your hair and yanks on it, making you whine out a bit from the slight pain. “You better suck it good, otherwise we’ll suck you dry of your blood princess.” Yonji threatens you.

You moan out as you take both Yonji and Ichiji’s tips, going back and forth between their cocks while they hiss out at the pleasure of your tongue along their cock. “Fuck, she’s pretty fuckin’ good~ Mmh! Oh fuck~” Yonji groans out, biting his lower lip tightly. “Fuck yeah~ Keep sucking it like that~” Ichiji mewls out shakily, his hips already trembling.

A gasp leaves you as you felt Niji and Sanji thrust up into both of your holes, making your eyes roll up as they both went deep inside of you. You moan out as they moved their hips against your ass and cunt, thrusting up into your hole and hitting the deepest yet sweetest parts of you. Ichiji cuts your moans off by shoving his cock far down your throat, making you whine out and make some more noise.

“Oh my goodness~ H-Her pussy feels so wonderful~” You hear Sanji moan beneath you, burying his face deep into your neck. Niji huffs out shakily, his hands gripping your hips before smacking one of his hands onto your ass, making you yelp out. “Her ass feels even better, fuck she’s so fucking tight~” He groans out, his eyes rolling as he feels your ass tighten from his abuse.

“Come on, tighten that throat up girlie!” Yonji demands, pulling on your hair even more. Ichiji allowed him to have a turn while he palmed at his cock, knowing that he would get another turn later.

You moan out mindlessly as you were be fuck in all of your orifices, their cocks making you grow dumber the more they fucked into you like a little toy. If only you could move your hands, you would’ve been begging them to fuck you harder and faster. You were surprised at how easy it was for you to fall into the pleasure, you thought it would’ve at least taken more to pull you in.

Maybe it was the lightheadedness that made it feel so fucking good, or maybe it was the fact that it’s been so long since you’ve been fucked like a little whore out on the street. Even so, when taking all of their cocks so good and deep inside of you, how could you not go dumb from them fucking you.

Your sweet little eyes looked up at both Ichiji and Yonji happily while they abused and fucked your throat like a tight little toy for them. “Aww look at her, she’s starting to love it! Ain’t that right princess?~” Yonji asks, smiling to you. You moan out in response and he smiles before biting his lip. You breathe heavily as you felt Niji and Sanji increase the speed of their thrusts and you began to move slightly from their thrusts.

Both of your holes tighten around their cocks and they groan out in response. Sanji wraps his arms around your back tightly while Niji gripped your hips. Yonji’s hips begins to tremble while he fucks your face, his orgasm growing close as his cock twitches against your tongue. “Ah~ F-Fuck! Fuck I’m cumming, you better swallow of my fucking cum you slut!~” Yonji growls, pulling harder on your hair.

You moan out as he fucked your throat hard, his eyes rolling back as he felt himself ready to cum. He gasps out before he pulls your head against his hips, his cock twitching before his cock finally spurts cum deep down your throat. You swallow it all up for him, drinking it down before he finally pulls back, allowing you to take a deep breathe. Yonji sits down on the bed, panting heavily as as he gave his cock a few lazy strokes to ride out his high.

Ichiji cups your face was again and smiles at you before sliding his cock head along your soft and glossy lips. “Here now, suck it like a good girl okay?~” Ichiji demands of you. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out and he hums before slowly sliding his cock into your mouth. You moan and gasp out as you felt Niji shove his cock farther inside of you while Sanji begins to grow closer to his orgasm. His sweet moans was like music to your ears, and his cock continuously kisses g-spot.

“Ah!~ M-Mmh! I-I’m so close sweetie~” Sanji moans, his hands holding on tightly to your shirt while he thrusted up harder into your cunt. You felt your breath being knocked from you due to Sanji’s thrusts and your cunt tightens even more around his cock, making him throw his head back.

“Mmgh!~ O-Oh fuck! F-Fuck yes I’m coming!~” Sanji gasps loudly before he finally cumming deep in your cunt, his cum filling you up and making your eyes roll back. He presses smooches against your neck, making you mewl and jolt suddenly from the softness of his lips. You could feel his fangs run along your skin with every kiss along with his tongue tasting your salty skin.

“It’s about fucking time you came in a woman Sanji. Took you fucking long enough.” Niji says, his tone growing shaky as cock began to twitch inside of your ass. Sanji gasped heavily beneath you, slowly recovering from his orgasm while you moan out from Ichiji and Niji’s cock. Both Ichiji and Niji huffed heavily as they grew close, their eyes rolling as they felt themselves wanting to finally cum inside of you.

“Take my fucking seed! Fuck you better fucking take it all!” Ichiji spat, his hands holding your head up so he could fuck your throat a bit deeper. You mewl out as you felt him cum deep down your throat just like Yonji did. He quickly pulled and you coughed afterwards, a whimper leaving your lips as you finally relax against Sanji.

Niji was the one lasting longer out of his three brothers and he was so close to cumming into your ass. A slap to your ass causes you to whine out and you turn back and look at Niji and tears pricking at your eyes. Niji peers down at you and smiles darkly before groping the fat of your ass, making you moan out. “Be a good girl and tighten up for me. You don’t want to see me upset.” He demanded, his brows furrowing as he yearned for one last push.

You obey and tighten around his cock, his hand pressing down onto your back and pushing you down farther against Sanji. He fucks you a bit harder, his groans growing louder as he felt himself ready to cum inside of your ass. “Shit~ I-I’m about to cum.” He groans, his hand gripping your hips tightly as he gasps out. You mewl out and he curses to himself as he finally cums inside of your ass, making your body tremble from the feeling of him filling you up.

You sigh satisfied and you finally fully relaxed against Sanji, who wraps his arms lovingly around you to comfort you. The rest of the brothers stare down at you before smiling to each other, snickering at you.

You didn’t think they were done with you…right?

“Well Ichiji? Is she a keeper? I personally think she is!” Yonji smiles. Ichiji chuckles before peeking down at you. “Hell yeah. She was a good girl. I think we should keep her. For a human she’s good for a cum dumpster.” Omfg god help me- Ichiji admits, laughing to himself. Sanji and Niji stays silent but agreed with them both internally.

“Get up girlie! We ain’t done with you yet! We’ll keep goin with you until you’re full to the brim!” Yonji says, gripping your arm and pulling you up easily.

“Oi! I’m still holding her!”

“Oh shut the hell up! I was supposed to be fucking her pussy first until you hogged her slutty hole Sanji!”

You sigh out knowing that you probably weren’t going to escape them any times soon. Until you come up with a plan, all you could do was sit there and take their cocks like a good girl.

But that didn’t seem so bad…right?

I made sure to bring out Yonji’s stinginess and the fact that he’s the youngest out of the four. Even though Ichiji is the oldest and the calmest, I switched him and Niji up a bit. Since Niji has the short temper.

[whiskersz]

Can you please do headcanons with Angel and Husk with a reader who suffers from chronic pain/illness and how’d they’d help reader get through it? Platonic or romantic is up to you! It’s okay if you can’t but thank you so much if you do.

Hey there! Of course I can, I decided to go with chronic pain though it’s written pretty vaguely, so it can be relatable to a wider audience; and for anyone struggling with this, make sure you rest a bunch :)

Angel and Husk with a Reader who has Chronic pain/illness

Angel Dust

✧Angel is a very caring boyfriend; he remembers all the meds that you’re supposed to take and at what time, and if you forget about taking them he’s going to gently scold you and remind you that this is important for your health.

✧However, his life is pretty busy with him having to be on set for most of the day, so he can’t really take care of you the way he’d rather do it. Still, he’ll take a few breaks to remind you to take your medicine at the right time and entrust somebody else to take care of you if you’re having a particularly bad day.

✧Speaking of bad days, every single morning before he goes to work he’ll stop by your room; if you’re already awake he’ll tell you to text him if there is a problem and you two will share a kiss as good luck to both of you; if you’re still sleeping, he’ll gladly leave a neatly written note on your nightstand where he reminds you how much he loves you and tells you he hopes that you have a good day, and to obviously text him if something’s wrong.

Good Morning Sweets, I hope you slept fine, and that today goes well! Leave me a message if you need, I’ll try to check my phone for you. I love you a bunch, -Anthony <3

✧At the end of the day, expect a lot of cuddles and kisses! He’ll ask you how it went and if you managed to carry out any of your projects. At the start of the relationship he might even avoid talking about his own struggles because he knows you have to deal with yours every day, but as you two get more comfortable so will the relationship, and you’ll be genuine with each other, as the other will always be there for comfort.

Husk

✦Husk may appear grumpy, but as I said probably a million times at this point, he’s the exact opposite in a relationship, especially if you struggle with chronic pain or illness. He’ll be extra careful not to cause you any additional pain or fatigue, and will be thinking of you pretty much the whole time when you’re resting in your room.

✦Alcohol doesn’t really help with chronic pain and illness, so he’s willing to mix you non-alcoholic cocktails and of course prepare something extra for you, such as a breakfast in bed here...a favourite dish as lunch there...he’s skilled in the kitchen! So he does so both because he enjoys it and because it lessens your strain.

✦He can also be a bit of a couch potato, so he doesn’t really mind if you sometimes prefer to have little dates at the Hotel because you’re not feeling the best. Watching some TV to distract you sounds good enough to him, as long as you get to spend time together and he gets to comfort you with his purrs.

✦If you’re having a particularly bad day, he will do anything for you; bring you your meds, remind you to eat and drink, he will even take breaks from tending to the bar to check on you. Alastor doesn’t mind him doing that either.

✦- This only applies if you’re dating both of them – Husk will always be appointed to look after you by Angel while he’s at work if you’re in pain, and he doesn’t mind it one bit. You will receive lots of love once Angel comes home, from both him and Husk, and the playful banter between the two will surely be able to distract you a bit.  

[myfandomrealitea]

ok I’ll be honest, I was one of the people who approached your safe space post with the mindset “yeah, but…” like, I now whole-heartedly agree that there should absolutely be fandom spaces devoid of real world issues. We all need our spaces to rest and relax. I think I just felt weird about your post because previously ive been in fandom spaces which did operate on the (perfectly fine) rule of ‘no politics’…but ‘politics’ would also include talking about a gay ship or any queer headcannons.

That obviously wasn’t fair to you because you obviously didn’t mean that w/ your post, but I can personally see as to why some people would feel that way if they were in similar fandom spaces. I do still want to reiterate I do agree with your post and I think some of the rebloggers took it…a bit far? Like Jesus Christ some of y’all need to eat a snickers. I also think some of the wording like “bitching about world issues” and “whining about their shitty parents” might’ve thrown me off but that’s not your fault and really a non-issue 🤷🏽‍♀️

you can delete this ask if you want I really won’t mind, I think I can just see as to why there were so many ‘yeah, but…’ rebloggers.

I actually really appreciate asks like this. For a multitude of reasons, but also because it gives really good insight and outer perspective for both me and other people who are aware of or involved in the discussion.

I think what a lot of people don't yet grasp about me is that while I may hold an opposing view to yours (general, not directed), in the vast majority of cases I still very much understand why people would think the way they do and where that thought process comes from and goes.

Its very, very easy to fall into the mindset of thinking that not helping when you have the ability to makes you a bad person or however in/directly causes suffering. Its very easy to be in the mindset of one single individual making a magnitude of difference.

I fully and genuinely understand and comprehend a lot of the points being brought up.

I just don't agree with them and hold a different outlook on those issues.

For example:

Talking about enjoying a queer ship to me is not 'political' in the sense that, personally, if you're a homophobe and upset by generic conversations about queer people, I really could not give a fuck. And if you raise objections to me talking about two dudes kissing, I'm simply going to remove you from my space because clearly it is not beneficial for either of us to share it. And I made it.

Its obviously very very much down to personal discretion to decide where that line is and what that bracket encompasses, but I think the most universal aspect of that safe space post was trying to get people to understand that forcing others to suffer in solidarity isn't activism and that strangers are not obligated to allow you to use them as support and a dumping ground for your needs.

Spreading around videos of people's dead loved ones isn't activism.

Spamming taglines and buzzwords on completely unrelated posts and videos isn't activism.

Relying on complete strangers for emotional and mental support and regulation while dumping vulnerable, graphic, personal information on them is neither safe nor healthy.

People are not obligated to smother or confine their happiness because of your misery. If you're having a bad day you have no right to tell other people they can't be happy in front of you.

A lot of people, mostly white knighters and people of color took the post as "a white privileged pig saying its okay to let racism slide because you want to play your video games" (actual hate mail I received) and that's so laughably and wildly far from the actual basis of the post.

I've had bigots in my servers before. Homophobes or racists who've slipped through the cracks.

You know what happens when they say something homophobic or racist?

They're immediately removed, blocked and reported, and their information is placed in a private document I keep. I issue an apology to the members of the server for their actions, and life goes on.

People are, of course, entitled to take the post as they see fit. They're entitled to their own perspectives and opinions. I'm more than happy to simply focus on the people who have taken support, guidance and solace in the post.

[cxsmicbaby]

something nice - 1

CHAPTER ONE OF A SERIES 

pairing : miguel o’hara x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings : smut at the end! cursing throughout. enjoy :)

you and hobie play a prank. miguel doesn’t like it, but he can never stay mad at you. 

                                                      𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

“And then... my uncle died.” 

“Mmhm.” The smell of hot coffee grows stronger. It’s mere inches away.. I just have to suffer through this for a moment longer. 

“And I realized. I’m not even real! I’m just a clone of the real Peter. And that totally destroyed me.”

“Oh wow,” I say, nodding. Ben, or Scarlet Spider, continues to go on about his tragic backstory, somehow still managing to flex his biceps as he begins to well up in tears. 

Finally, the spider in front of me finishes filling their mug and it’s my turn. God, if I had to stand in line with this melodramatic asshole for a second longer I think I would’ve tried to cut my own ears off. He’s still talking as I fill my cup with coffee, but this time I’m not listening. It’s probably some variation of the same things I’ve been through, anyhow. I wonder how Miguel is able to sit through thousands and thousands of these things whenever he recruits a new spider. He’s not a very patient guy. 

Miguel. He walks through the lobby at 5:30am, every morning. I woke up early today so that I would run into him. Not like I said anything to him; I walked past him, smiling, and he just grunted. Just about what I expected. But I still woke up early to see him. I feel a little stupid thinking about it. I’ll probably do it again tomorrow. 

“Yeah, Ben, that really sucks. Maybe you should see a therapist.” I turn and give him a pat on the shoulder, smiling as genuinely as I can. He nods, and wipes his teary eyes. This guy cries way too easily. 

I swing off into the main lobby. Thank god, I can be free. I don’t know what the plan is today, but I’m always up for an adventure. 

“Oi!” I hear, and behind me Hobie is swinging forward, his mask already on. That must mean there’s something happening. Regardless, I’m always happy to see him. He’s probably the only person I really talk to here; other than Miguel. 

“Hey! Got anything for me?” I ask, as we land on a free platform. Hobie pauses for a moment before he starts digging around in his pockets, and pulls out a bag of my favorite snack from his universe; unfortunately, it doesn’t exist anywhere else, so I depend on this not-so-dependable guy to bring them for me. 5/10 times he actually remembers it. 

“What’s with the drink? I thought you hated coffee,” he asks, plopping himself down on the edge of the platform. I do the same, and we watch as the spiders swing and climb all over the place, like a jungle gym. Every time I take a step back from this whole thing like this, it always amazes me. Just a few weeks ago, I was stuck in a universe where I was the only one, and now I’m in a place where everyone is just as corny as me. It’s lovely. 

“I do,” I start, taking a sip of it. I fight the way my lips threaten to purse in disgust. “I needed a pick me up.”

“Ah.” Hobie pulls at a loose thread of his shirt and smiles deviously. “Up all night thinking about Miguel, huh?” 

Hobie is far too observant for my liking. There’s nothing that gets past him, which is great for combat, but not great for me. 

I swallow hard, and shake my head. “No. And you should stop saying shit like that! What if someone overhears? They’ll think something weird is going on.”

“Like?” Here we go. 

“Like. They’ll think I’m in love with him or something. We’re just friends. He’s cool. I’m cool. Everything’s cool.” I sound like an idiot, and I know Hobie thinks the same when I hear him laugh. It’s like I’m a fucking teenager again, gossiping about my crush in the locker-room. I hated high school. 

“Cool, cool. Everything’s cool,” he teases, mocking me. 

We’re both quiet, basking for a moment in the odd sort of peace that comes out of this chaotic place. 

Hobie snickers softly, shaking his head at something that he’s thought of. “Heard some of the others talking bout how Miguel’s pickin’ favorites. Guess who’s the favorite?”

I sigh, and down the rest of the disgusting black liquid. “Whatever. I’m not his, uh. His favorite. He talks down to me like all the rest.” 

Hobie is quiet. That’s rare. When I look over at him he’s just staring down, a weird sort of smile still on his face. His fingers are drumming against the platform. 

“Hey, what’re we gonna do today? Please say you’ve got something fun.” 

That seems to get him, because his head perks up and that teasing expression is replaced by one of excitement. Thank god. If I had to talk about Miguel for another second it would not have ended well—I tend to get a little loose with the things I say the longer I’m forced to talk about them. 

“Something fun, eh? I’ve got something fun. But only if you’re up for it.” 

I smile. “You know I am.” 

Compared to a lot of the others, I’ve been here for a very short time. Still, I’ve learned the ins and outs, the dos and the don’ts. Like, do listen to what the higher ups (and Lyla) say. Don’t make fun of Miguel’s tediously slow entrance on that weird platform thing. Do make friends. Don’t be an ass. And for god’s sake, do not pull any pranks. 

The thing about spider people; we tend not to really listen to rules. 

Hobie and I are perched on a bar above the lobby. We’re trying to figure out the best way to go about things. Me, I think he should take charge, but he seems to think nobody really likes him, so they won’t listen. He thinks they’ll all fall in line with my beguiling feminine charms and do whatever I say. I think that sounds like bullshit, but I don’t really wanna do the other thing, so I agree to it. 

I drop down smack in the middle of a group of spider-people in a conversation. Immediately, I put on the most panicked expression I can muster and start running around frantically. 

“Jessica’s gone into labor! I repeat, Jessica is giving birth at this moment! Help her get back home so she can go to a hospital... or something!” I shout, trying to get as much attention as I possibly can. Of course, everyone loves Jessica, so everyone starts rushing to her aid. None of them actually know where she is, but they just launch into help-mode, as Spiderman does. Soon, the lobby is basically empty. Sometimes, I think about how gullible I must be if I’m really just a variation of this same person. 

“Coast’s clear,” Hobie calls, dropping down from above. “We don’t have a lotta time, gotta make this quick.” 

I frown. “We? But you said all I had to do was get them out!” 

“Yeah, that was a lie.” Hobie shrugs and tosses me a spray can. “Now, you gonna help or not?” 

The idea of getting caught spraying painting the building Miguel has built specifically for us makes me queasy. The idea of being caught doing anything that would make him upset makes me queasy. But if I back out now, then I just made a fool of myself for no reason. I don’t mind looking stupid, but it’s gotta be for a reason. 

I sigh, and reach up to tug my mask over my face in case someone realizes that Jessica is not even here right now, and decides to come back. I mean, not like I would really be hiding much, considering everyone knows what my suit looks like, but there’s no harm in it. 

The moment I pull it down, the room is doused in red light and an alarm starts blaring. Fuck. 

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me, mate,” Hobie groans, tossing his head back in frustration. “That old man did not just sound the alarm ‘cause we’re pulling a goddamn prank. Might as well do as much as we can before the rest of ‘em come back.” 

That does not sound like a good idea. If Miguel is angry enough to turn on the alarm that signifies intruders, he will definitely not like us continuing in spite of his obvious warning. But Hobie’s already swinging up, spraying bright purple in a strangely elegant ribbon across the walls. I start to hear footsteps, but they’re far enough away that I think I have some time. So, despite my better judgement, I follow Hobie, tagging wherever he’s painted with a green design of my own. Gotta admit, it looks pretty dope. That assuages my fears somewhat and I find myself letting go a little, whooping in excitement as I swing around the lobby. 

Then, I hear it again. Footsteps, but I know these very specific footsteps. Heavy, fast, angry. My stomach drops and I land, turning to Hobie to see he’s still painting away. He probably hears it too, he just doesn’t care. I wish I could be as carefree as him. Especially when it came to this sort of thing. 

But I can’t. In fact, once Miguel actually appears in the room, hair slightly disheveled, face twisted up in an almost scary amount of anger, I freeze in place. God, he’s fucking fuming. His eyes sweep the room like we just painted Miguel Sux! in somebody’s blood. And then his gaze lands on me, and I feel myself shiver; in fear, in anticipation, in... something else. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Miguel bellows, and that catches Hobie’s attention. Before he can say anything else, the flake is gone. Typical Hobie. Saving his own ass. I can’t even really be mad at him, because if it weren’t for the annoying way my feet were sticking to the ground I would’ve done the same. 

The alarm shuts off, and the room goes deadly quiet. I’m still staring at him as he approaches me, his chest heaving as he takes deep breaths, probably trying to calm himself down. He needs to see a therapist, I think, but don’t have time to even smile at my own quip before he’s looming right above me. 

“Do you get joy out of causing this type of shit? Out of wasting everyone’s time?” Miguel spits, and I know I’m supposed to be hurt by what he’s saying, but god if I don’t wanna just pounce at him right here, right now. 

So I keep my mouth shut. He doesn’t seem to like that. His fists are clenched tight at his sides as he studies me. 

“You know, if I knew you were gonna be such a fucking nuisance, I would never have brought you here.”

Ouch. That one sort of hurts, so I take off my mask and I look up at him, trying to keep my composure. I frown. “It was just some harmless fun, Miguel. No need to get so mean about it.” 

That was not the right thing to say, apparently, because his eyebrows furrow even deeper. Before he can open his mouth to say something that will probably make me cry, I force a smile and swing up to the wall. 

“And it looks great! Don’t you think this place is too... I don’t know. Sterile? Everyone’s gonna love it.” I hope he can’t hear the way my voice is trembling. When I hear my words echo back to me, I’m relieved to find that I sound quite confident. I’ve always been good at that, faking like I know what I’m doing. I think that’s a Spider-man thing. 

Miguel doesn’t speak. He crosses his arms over his chest and inhales deeply, hanging his head. 

“You are going to clean this shit up. Understood? And when I find that little shit Hobie, I’m gonna tell him the same thing.” 

I think that’s the closest I’ll get to him saying he isn’t really that mad about it, and that’s good enough for me. I swing back down to stand in front of him, and this time when I smile, it’s real. 

“Are you sure? I’m telling you, it looks super—”

Miguel’s eyes narrow and I feel my stomach twist. “Don’t test me.” 

I straighten up and salute him, fighting the urge to run as Miguel’s eyes burn into mine. “Yes, sir!” 

I swear to god, he almost smiles, before he just shakes his head. 

“Don’t do shit like this again. I won’t go so easy on you next time.” 

                                                       𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

“You don’t let yourself have anything, do you?” 

Miguel pauses. He finds himself looking up at you, despite the desire to remain stoic and focused and uninterested. It’s always hard to do that, with you. 

“What?” he says, his voice slightly biting. He means it to be. He wants to scare you away so you will leave him alone, finally. It’s been mere weeks since you joined them, and in those weeks, you have made it your mission to annoy him more than anyone ever has in his life. It’s like you live to bother him. He should hate it more than he does. 

He should hate your stupid fucking pranks and your dumb, unfunny jokes. But he doesn’t. He knew it was you today, even before he got to the lobby, but for some reason he wasn’t that mad. And then the fact that he wasn’t mad about it made him mad about it, and he was mean to you. He wants to apologize, but that’s not like him. Everything he does or feels when it comes to you is a contradiction to the person he has built himself up as. The whole thing is just so muddled up he’d rather ignore it. 

You sit on a metal box to his left, swinging your legs back and forth as you scrutinize him. Miguel doesn’t like how you always have this knowing look on your face, like you’re waiting for him to discover something you’ve already found out. Frankly, all the Spider-people have that sort of glint in their eyes, but with you it’s different. He bites the inside of his cheek and forces himself not to look away. 

“I mean, you don’t let yourself have anything nice, or fun. The closest you get to letting yourself feel happiness is those empanadas you make me bring you.” 

You smile at him, and he thinks to himself that he wishes you would do it more, but the moment the thought passes he stamps it out with a frown. 

“And even then, you always scowl when you eat them.” You cancel out his grimace with a little laugh that makes Miguel fucking furious.

“You know, it’s not in your best interest to keep talking about this. If causing a useless ruckus is fun to you, then yeah, I don’t fucking do that.” He practically spits it, and swivels his head to focus again on his work. He doesn’t know if he wants you to apologize or if he wants you to just go. Apologize? He’s kidding himself. You would never. 

He can’t help but listen carefully for your movements, wanting to hear if you’ll leave or not. But he hears nothing, and he turns again to see you just sitting there, swinging your feet. Still smiling. 

“What are you still doing here? Don’t you have shit to do?” Miguel asks, narrowing his eyes at you. He notices that his tone lacks the sting he meant it to deliver and chooses to ignore it. 

You boost yourself up from the box and stand. “Not really. Can’t I just stay? I won’t make any noise, promise.” 

Miguel frowns deeply. “That’s impossible.” But he doesn’t tell you to leave. 

You sigh, your body swaying side to side. Miguel thinks its a subconscious thing you do when you’re standing; most people would just be still, but he’s noticed that you cannot possibly remain perfectly in place for more than a few seconds. 

“Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna get some sleep. You should too.” You send him a small wink and turn, walking off toward the exit. You stop briefly, turning to face him with an expression he can’t quite read.

“And, uh. Sorry about today,” you call, and he says nothing. You turn again and he watches you leave. 

Everything has changed since you showed up, and if anything can be taken from his obsession with anomalies, it’s that Miguel hates change. Especially when it seems like there isn’t much changing for anyone but himself. 

It was him that found you. He went on a mission to a universe he had not yet traveled; a rare occasion, because it wasn’t to destroy an anomaly, but because something was telling him to go. It wasn’t like a voice, or even a sense. More like a feeling. There was something there for him to discover and so he went without saying anything, hoping he’d be back before anyone noticed. 

Miguel found you on the roof of a museum. You were sitting on the edge, swinging your feet back and forth, just staring into the streets. You had your mask off, which he remembered thinking was incredibly stupid, seeing as it was still light out. Your suit was nothing to gawk at, nothing too different than the hundreds of others he had seen, but for some reason he knew it was you he was supposed to find. You, he had been called to. For what, he didn’t know.  

You noticed him before he intended you to. When you saw him, you didn’t look shocked, or scared; you looked happy. No one had been happy to see him in a long time. 

“How long you been standing there?” you asked, turning your body to face him. You crossed your legs and watched him approach, staring up at him like he was someone you knew, someone you had been waiting for. 

Miguel was quiet. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. 

“You know, one of us is gonna have to change.” And you laughed hard at your own dumb joke. Your laugh made him uncomfortable, how truly happy it sounded, how real it felt. You seemed like you hadn’t yet experienced the tragic things that came with being a Spiderman. You seemed innocent. Like you needed to be protected. 

And by god, you were beautiful. The suit didn’t leave much to the imagination. 

The thought startled him and he stayed quiet.  

“Your suit is super cool. Kinda cyberpunk.” You stood and you watched him carefully, walking slowly around him in a circle. Miguel’s eyes followed you, his body on guard as if you were going to suddenly lunge at him. 

“Why aren’t you... surprised?” Miguel finally said, his tone accusatory. But you didn’t seem to notice, and if you did you didn’t mind. You stopped in front of him and stuck your hand out, inviting him to shake it. 

“Welcome to Earth-72, Miguel. I’ve been waiting for you.” 

And that’s how he found out about a Dr. Strange, and how you knew about Miguel already; in fact, you were expecting him. The idea made him irrationally angry. Someone like you, obviously flippant and probably reckless, with knowledge about something as dangerous as the multiverse? You were most likely new to your abilities, to the mask. You were too naive and carefree not to be. 

But Miguel was wrong. You had long been bitten, lost your uncle, your sister, your best friend. You just seemed to lack that bitterness that he saw in the others, in himself. You were happy. 

Like most things, that also made Miguel angry. 

You begged him to let you join the Spider Society. You said you had known about it for a while, and you dreamed of being apart of it, of something bigger than yourself. Your words exactly. He was slightly impressed by that, but didn’t show it. In fact, Miguel wanted deeply to say no. But he didn’t, for reasons he’s not quite sure of himself, and that’s how he ended up with a permanent, relentless distraction. He was starting to wish he never brought you back in the first place. 

If you were more like him, he thinks, he probably wouldn’t have this problem. But you’re not. You’re almost the exact opposite. It drives him fucking crazy.

Miguel shook his head, grunting in frustration at his own inability to focus. It seemed even when you weren’t there, he was plagued by the thought of you. 

And think about you he did, for hours on end, sometimes. When he would lie awake in bed, his body aching from the strains of the day. He wouldn’t be able to close his eyes, because the image of you was always waiting for him. Smiling, laughing. Looking up at him with those eyes of yours. He would find himself imagining what it felt like to be close to you. Your skin would be soft, he knew. Your lips would be softer. Your hands, calloused by years of fighting, swinging, winning, losing. How they’d touch him. How they’d hold him. 

How he would touch you. Make you feel good. Make you think about him, just like he thought about you. Make you want him. 

Miguel always lost himself in thoughts like that, and he was usually able to bring himself back to reality. When he got back to his room that night, though, he felt as though he couldn’t push it down. He didn’t let himself have anything nice. And god, did he want something nice. 

The water ran over his taut back, soaking his hair and running down his cheekbones. One hand, splayed against the tile wall, and the other by his side, just inches away from an itch he is fighting not to scratch. His cock is aching. He swears he can see it pulse with every second that passes, every drop of water that lands on his shaft, veins prominent and throbbing. 

Miguel imagines that you’re there with him. That you stand in front of him, and that instead of the wall it’s you he’s touching, your skin slick with water and sweat. That your hands are on his chest, your nails scratching him just the slightest bit, and god, those eyes, staring into his like he’s the only thing that has or ever will matter to you. 

When he finally wraps his hand around his cock, it takes his breath away. 

“Jesus,” he whispers, slowly stroking himself, gripping so tight he’s sure his fingertips are white. It’s not enough. 

Miguel closes his eyes, and immediately he pictures you. He feels almost guilty to think of you this way, on your knees, with your lips wrapped around his dick. But he can’t stop. His breathing grows heavier as he imagines you taking him deep into your throat, gagging on him, your nose brushing against his pelvis. He thinks about what he’d say to you. How he’d tell you how good you were doing, how perfect you were. He grips himself impossibly harder and is unable to stop himself from relentlessly jerking his cock, his hand pushing so hard against the wall he’s afraid it’ll crack. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice breathy and deep. More water drips onto his shaft and immediately he thrusts desperately into his own grip, envisioning that it’s you, spitting on him before you take him in your hand, running your tongue over his tip, looking up at him. 

He thinks about what you’d say to him. He knows he would be too big for you. But you’d try to take him all, because that’s what you do. He’s sure your hand wouldn’t even wrap around his entire length. And you would tell him how big he was, how beautiful you thought he was. You’d probably tease him too, about how quickly he’d been reduced to a mess, how eager he was. He’s surprised at how close that thought brings him, and he has to bite his lip to keep from letting out a shameful moan. 

When Miguel comes, he says your name. It’s not loud; it’s more like a plea, a prayer. His body caves in on itself and he shudders with the force of it, his legs trembling ever so slightly as he tries to bring himself back to reality. He stands there for a moment, trying to catch his breath, feeling a little ashamed at how quickly he finished. He hasn’t had the time to do anything like that in so, so long. He hasn’t let himself. 

He washes himself off and gets out of the shower. 

When Miguel lies in bed, he’s haunted by the thought of having to see you tomorrow, knowing what he’s done. And then he grows angry. You did this to him. And you’re not even trying; you’re just there. What a nuisance you are. 

He tries to close his eyes, but he finds himself plagued by you still. 

                                                      𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

CHAPTER TWO

[renthony]

🏳️‍🌈 (queer media rec please !)

(Drop a 🏳️‍🌈 in my inbox and I’ll respond with a queer media recommendation!)

I've been sticking to indie or less-popular works for these recommendations, but the most recent Interview With the Vampire episode destroyed me and I need to get more people in on this sweet, sweet suffering.

AMC's television adaptation of Anne Rice's Interview With the Vampire is phenomenal. The season 2 finale airs next week, and I'm hoping very much for more. It's officially available via AMC+, and if you're at all into queer gothic horror, you have to check it out.

The basic premise is that an immortal Vampire named Louis tells his tragic story to a human reporter named Daniel. We learn all about Louis' life as a human, how he was turned into a vampire by his vampire lover Lestat, and how the two created a child vampire named Claudia to be their daughter. It's a messy domestic drama where every single narrator is unreliable, it's a horror show, it's tragic, it's queer as hell, and it's perfect for people who want to see mean, petty, mentally unwell, horny queer characters waging psychological warfare on each other.

Here's the trailer for season 1:

I was very, very nervous when the adaptation was first announced. I'm a huge Vampire Chronicles fan, I was absolutely obsessed with Lestat as a teenager (...and also now...), and I was pretty firmly on the side of folks who were thinking, "we did this already, Queen of the Damned was a horrible (albeit still pretty fun) movie, we can just let the books stand on their own after that one."

When the casting announcements for Lestat (Sam Reid) and Louis (Jacob Anderson) were made, I got even more nervous. In the book, Louis is a white slave owner born in the late 1700s, and I was worried that the showrunners would just make Louis a Black character without examining or unpacking any of the anti-Blackness in the source material. I'd enjoyed Jacob Anderson's performance in Game of Thrones, and I didn't have any ill will against him, but I was genuinely worried a Black Louis was going to be in poor taste at best.

Instead of presenting Louis as a Black slave owner, though, the show reworked his backstory to make him a Black businessman in 1910s New Orleans. We get to know his family and his situation, and the dynamics of a queer interracial romance in turn-of-the-Century New Orleans add quite a lot of new depth to the story. Jacob Anderson deserves basically every award ever, because his performance as Louis is just...goddamn. He is the definitive Louis for me.

The show feels like a love letter to both the book series and the 1994 film. In the show, the interview takes place in 2022, and is framed as a second, "do-over" interview. It makes meta-commentary on the film and the books, and it's a real treat as a fan of the prior works. The constant little book references and hints for future plots are fantastic. The show loves the source material just as much as the audience does, and it never tries to say, "the old version sucks, we're doing it better." It's a loving tribute to my favorite messy queer vampires, and I need everybody to go lavish attention on it so it gets more seasons.

Edit 6/27/24:

Season 3 has been confirmed, babes!!!

[sp-by-april]

#smut-a-thon

The feral thoughts that plague my mind is Kyle or Stan having a popular bimbo gf that everyone wants but can’t have. Although her bf is very jealous they’re not controlling, having to suffer and enjoy her little slutty outfits. Pulling her short skirts down when they hike up, covering her bare stomach with their big hands, towering and basically covering her from anyone. She’s really pretty and flirty but so loyal to her man, she lets him breed her all he wants. They both know she’ll make a pretty mom with cute babies anyway.🧎🏻‍♀️

Ok so I picked Stan's POV because I've never done a Stan POV and tonight is about doing stuff that's fun, horny, and different so uhh.. I hope it turned out okay? Broke my writer's block at least, so thank you! 💖😅

POV!Stan x F!Reader

[Tell me what makes you FERAL] [Stan Marsh Master List]

I love my girlfriend, but she has these little games. She likes to see what she can get away with.

She’s hot. Not hot in the way that guys pretend their basic, conventionally attractive girlfriends are just because their bodies are fine and their faces look good with enough make-up... She’s genuinely porn-star, turning heads, almost every guy’s fantasy (even if they won’t admit it) hot. And she fucking knows it.

She’s always dressed revealing or whatever but I swear, she saw me get jealous of dudes always looking at her and really upped the ante. Her tops got tighter and tighter, her skirts got shorter and shorter. She has this pair of faded jean shorts she loves to wear with a matching jacket and her ass totally hangs out of it. I've tried to pull it down the whole world can't see her on display, but it's pointless.

I don’t tell her what to wear, but I feel like I’m constantly fixing her clothes or covering her up so other guys can’t see too much. We were at Tolkien’s annual summer pool party and she wore basically nothing. When I questioned her about it, she huffed and said it was a "micro bikini”. She looked like a fucking stripper.

Luckily, she’s really, really tiny, so I can pretty much cover her stomach with my hand when she’s wearing crop tops and shit, but with that bikini… I felt like I was on patrol all night.

It’s even worse when she decides to be a huge fucking flirt. She’ll get suggestive, touch guys’ arms, bat her lashes, the whole nine yards. Every single dude just fucking eats it up. The way I’ve seen them eating out the palm of her hand? She could be a cult leader if she wanted.

I have to be careful because people see this guy being protective of his petite, attractive girlfriend, and think I’m being controlling and toxic or whatever, but it’s the opposite. She has all the control. She has the power. She knows it, too.

Except when we fuck. Then she’s begging me to breed her.

I love knowing that I’m the one that gets to fuck her while every other dude just has to fantasize and accept it. She goes so fucking wild, sometimes it’s like she’s starving for me.  She said I make her want to make all the bad decisions. Including letting me fill her up completely unprotected. She's completely mine to use. Trust me, she's even hotter when she's naked and begging for it.

“Please, Stan?”

“I need it, Stan,”

“Stan, pretty please, breed me,”

Then it’s my turn to play games. I’ll tell her about all the slutty shit she did and ask if she’s really been a good girl or not. That it’s something she has to earn. You should see how she writhes underneath me in desperation, panicking at the very idea that I won’t fucking come in her.

Maybe if she didn’t feel so good, I wouldn’t, but I always do. I’ve had my share of girls and nothing, nobody comes close. She’s the softest, the warmest, the wettest. On top of it, her body is so responsive to every little touch, it’s like driving a fucking Ferrari. She gets so tight when she comes, I can barely keep it together.

I don’t think I could stop myself from coming inside of her if I wanted to. I love knowing that I’m the only guy who gets to see her all fucked out, drooling and dripping with my cum.

My cock’s twitching just thinking about it.

Guess I’m lucky that I know a hot girl that I’m gonna turn into a hot mom pretty soon. Then the other dudes are really gonna be jealous.

[sorceresssundries]

Oh, What A Circus!

Pairing: Gale x gn Tav - SFW

Word Count: 900

Summary: The spawn of the God of murder and their Wizard boyfriend have a day out at the circus!

A/N: I've been writing a lot of smut/romance/angst and wanted to try my hand at something a little more light-hearted.

I hope you enjoy it!

“You look ridiculous.” Gale muttered with his arms folded.

Tav stood in front of the unimpressed wizard, towering above him at almost seven feet of rippling muscle, with eyes as red as bloodstone and tattoos that looked like carved, ancient curses. They were a trained, hulking barbarian whose blood-drenched origin had, until recently, been lost to tampered memory. They were the flesh of Bhaal himself, spawn of the God of Murder, flayer of innocents, and inspirer of savagery. Condemned to forever be whipped and tormented by the whispered urges that pulsed through their blood and haunted their dreams.

They glared at Gale from beneath their freshly applied clown face paint and waved their candyfloss at him. 

“You look ridiculous!” Tav snapped back. “We’re at a circus and you look like someone has pissed in your porridge.”

Their tiff was punctuated by squeals and laughter of children, and Karlach, revelling in the nearby circus games. Even Astarion seemed to be enjoying himself, hurling particularly cutting insults at a mime. It was hard to tell whether the mime was exceptionally talented at their craft or if Astarion had actually driven them into a silent breakdown.

Tav turned towards the merchant with whom Gale had been conversing. The small mephit, previously engaged in lighthearted banter, was now cowering in the shadow of the clown-faced elf.

“You buying something?” Tav asked Gale with a mouth full of candyfloss.

“Well!” Gale raised his finger and Tav mentally prepared themselves for an unnecessarily long explanation “This fine fellow here”, he gestured towards the now trembling mephit, “And his delightful wife are exceptionally talented artists and dealers of the finest, bespoke sculptures in all Faerûn! Isn’t that right, my friend?”

“Erm, yes absolutely.” replied the mephit, still not taking their eyes off Tav, “I was just explaining to your….”

“Boyfriend.” cut in Tav.

“Oh…right…” The mephit’s eyes flicked between the two adventurers, as though the pairing of the wizard and the barbarian was completely ridiculous. The tiny mephit looked over to his huge, hulking, earth elemental of a wife in disbelief. “For a reasonable fee, we can provide you with a completely bespoke creation in whomever's likeness you desire!”

“I was thinking…” Said Gale, who thought a bit too much for Tav sometimes, “We have enough coin to make a considered purchase, perhaps it would be a kind gesture to gift a statue to our brave, vampiric friend?” 

Tav glanced over to Astarion who was now in hysterics at the mime having to be comforted by some of the other circus performers.

“Right...”

“He has, after all, been through a tremendous amount of suffering, and throughout his decades of torture and islolation, has forgotten what he looks like.” Gale looked genuinely downcast at the thought of his friend’s ongoing trauma. “How poetic would it be, to gift him with a statue of himself. As pale and marbled as his own alabaster skin - complete with a face he will be able to gaze upon in place of the cruel void of an empty mirror.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Said Tav who had only been half listening. “I love poetry.”

“Excellent!” Gale clapped his hands together, evidently proud of himself for his empathetic use of wisdom “I’ll leave the coin with you, you are after all, a much more skilled negotiator than I!” He raised himself on his tiptoes and quickly pecked a kiss on the tip of Tav’s clown-red nose, before heading in the direction of an unimpressed looking Djinn. 

Tav waited until he was out of earshot before turning back to the merchant. “So, you’ll make me a statue.. Of whatever I want?”

“Of course!”

“Perfect.” Grinned Tav, in what they hoped was a friendly expression. In reality, their stretched, clown-painted smile was more intimidating than if they had offered their most murderous scowl. As such, they unintentionally managed to get a hefty discount and priority delivery as part of the deal. 

Tav handed over the coin, finished their candyfloss, and went over to join in the mime-baiting with Astarion. They were having an excellent day.

“TAV!” Gale’s voice was sharp with anger as it bounced off the walls of their quarters in the Elfsong Tavern.

“Yep!” said Tav, bounding over to where he was standing, where a delivery had just arrived.

“What in the hells is this?” Gale hissed.

“Oh great! It's here! They weren’t kidding when they said it would be quick” Tav’s eyes were wide with artistic appreciation. The statue was beautiful, crafted with such delicate intricacy it looked as though it was draped from silk rather than carved from rock. Tav could hardly believe that something sculpted from the unforgiving, stubborn hardness of marble could appear so soft. Looking at it, glowing in the gentle candlelight, they felt they could finally understand the deep, personal connection and enrichment of artistic skill and mortal interpretation. 

“Why is it of me?!”

“Oh, right.” Tav had forgotten they had completely ignored Gale's original plan. “Erm, I guess there must have been a mix-up” 

“Why is it nude?!!”

Tav grinned at him, delighting in the furious way his brow furrowed and lines of his face deepened. 

“All the most famous statues are, right?” Tav sighed in adoration as they looked back at the statue. “I like it.”

“Is that an accurate representation of the wizard’s penis?” Asked Lae’zel who had quietly appeared between them and made Gale jump. 

“Abso-fucking-lutely” Tav said with a grin, taking in Lae’zel’s impressed expression. “I love the circus.”

[jusst-you-race]

Perhaps 56. “It brings out your eyes.” for a rare pairing of your choice?

my lovely Liquid thank you for this prompt and thank you for then immediately giving me Choscar office au brainworms for it <3 i hope you enjoy this!!!! prompt list

“It brings out your eyes.”

Oscar sighs, reading the text on his phone for the hundredth time this morning.

Enjoy your first day ;)

Fucking Arthur. Oscar will always regret confessing to his best friend that he’d had a decade long crush on his older brother, but today in particular he is really feeling that burn of resentment. He can’t even feel good about it either, because as much as working under his best friend’s hot older brother is going to suck, it’s a really good job that Oscar simply never would have gotten without the connection. He sighs again.

He’d been silently praying in the lead up to this week that this was one of those workplaces where he didn’t really have much face to face time with his boss. But now, after having just finished his orientation, he’s come to the devastating realisation that this is the kind of workplace where he will be seeing a lot of his boss. Thank god he’s had so many years to practise his poker face. 

He fiddles with the one personal item he’s set up on his desk. It’s a photo of him, Logan, and Arthur, arms slung around each other and all in different states of uncontrollable laughter. It sits lopsided in a second hand frame that Oscar had picked up for cheap, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He tries not to think too hard about who had taken the photo.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat and his head snaps up. Oscar quickly suppresses the groan that threatens to fall from his lips when he sees who it is.

Charles is smiling down at him, pretty green eyes somehow twinkling in the ugly fluorescent lights of the office. He’s dressed impeccably in slacks and a button up shirt; undone enough to be borderline indecent in a professional setting but Oscar’s sure no one would ever complain. He’s leaning on the divider next to Oscar’s desk, an effortless poise to him that to this day Oscar can’t help be mesmerised by. 

“Hello, Oscar.” It comes out like a purr in his accent and Oscar swallows. Hard. 

“Hi, Charles.” Oscar tugs self consciously at the boring sweater he’d thrown over his button up to hide the creases he couldn’t seem to iron out this morning. Charles’ eyes track the movement. 

“Are you settling in okay?” And that’s just the worst of it isn’t it. Oscar thinks he’d be so much better equipped to handle this ridiculous infatuation of Charles wasn’t so… kind. 

He nods.

“Yeah, everyone seems really nice. I’m excited to get started.” It sounds like the sort of generic thing anyone would say to their new boss, but Oscar genuinely means it. Charles smiles like he knows this. 

“Good. I’m very glad to have you on board.” Charles is purring again and Oscar feels like he might be starting to sweat under his gaze. 

He tugs at his jumper again. Charles watches. 

“Cute jumper, Oscar.” The corner Charles’ mouth curls up into a smirk that’s on the edge of teasing. Oscar rolls his eyes.

“You don’t have to lie, Charles,” he mutters.

Charles laughs, a musical, tinkling sound that has Oscar curling his toes in his shoes. 

“No, no.” Charles waves his hand. “I do mean it.” His smile slides into something more genuine. “It brings out your eyes.” 

And there it is. The real reason Oscar suffers so much because of this stupid crush. Charles is a flirt. 

His cheeks warm– there’s nothing he can do to stop it. Something glints in Charles’ eye and Oscar thinks he might pass out from the humiliation of it all. 

“Thanks, Charles,” he manages to get out. He ducks his head and sinks down into his chair, hoping to become one with it. Thankfully, perceptive, kind Charles decides to give him a break. 

“I’ll let you settle in.” And then he squeezes Oscar’s shoulder (Oscar feels like he might actually die) and swans off towards his office. 

Head in his hands, Oscar comes to the conclusion that this might be the worst job of his life. On his desk his phone buzzes.

Has Charles been annoying yet?

Little does Arthur know.

[ike-garden2024]

Mirror Mirror 🪞

So I read this man’s route. The translated version provided by @aishangotome it was so good! There’s quite a few translations on their page. Go check it out!! 😄 It took me a couple days to process what I read because I binged the entire thing, including both endings 🤣 this is a mess of a post 🙈 the rest of this post will contain spoilers, if that’s not something you want to see please scroll away 😂 anyway thank you @aishangotome for your translation work! Now let’s talk about the man in question, Alfons

Warning ‼️ contains topics that may be uncomfortable to some including but not limited to: death, addictions, trauma, etc.

The tragic fate attached to his curse is exactly what I thought it would be, to be forgotten by everyone who knew him after he dies. I can only imagine how painful that is. Lots of people nearing death tend to talk about their memories a lot and often I’ve heard them say “I’ll be remembered for x,y,z”, Alfons can’t have that… well, not completely… I like that the writers added the part of Roger and Kate doing some research of people who were involved with someone who has the mirror curse. It opened up another avenue, the name and face may be forgotten but the impact the cursed one had on the other person is not. In fact it leaves the person with a sense of emptiness, like they’ve forgotten something important. While that can be painful, it also means that the life of the cursed one matters, they’re important. I can imagine that no one wants to leave their loved ones with that kind of pain, a pain that will never really heal over time because they’ll always be wondering what/who their forgetting and that could potentially lead to always trying to find answers. It can potentially drive a person crazy. Despite all that, I think I agree with Kate. All of that pain and suffering is worth it. Sure you end up making memories that you’ll eventually forget and you’ll forget the important person but, your body and emotions don’t forget, it’s still actively being felt. That’s why Alfons loving Kate means tearing her life to shreds, leaving unforgettable marks on her entire being. It’s also why he’d prefer to die after her, he genuinely doesn’t want to be forgotten by her. I think in the fake wedding event epilogue she says something about dying together 🤔 I can’t quite remember.

Moving on! The way he goes about using his abilities doesn’t strike me as “evil” necessarily. On his personal time I mean!! He’s certainly making criminals go mad as part of his judgement on them 😂 although it’s a bit twisted, the way he makes himself available for random people to use his power is a form of care. It’s not good to run away from the reality of a situation but many times people wish they could. That’s kind of where addictions and bad habits come from. But even if it’s not that extreme, reading a favorite book, watching a favorite show, playing a game, etc. are also ways to escape reality for a while. I like the way the character Alfons basically encompasses the idea of escapism. It’s an extreme version of something everyone does in their own way. I’ve always loved how writers have the ability to create a whole new world where you can just get lost in. It’s what inspires my career choice and seeing people’s reactions to anime, games, stories, etc. continues to motivate me. I’d love to help create a world one day for people to enjoy. Reading Alfons’s route weirdly motivated me more 😂 without moderation, anything can become an addiction, but it’s sometimes hard to create these moderations. Alfons always makes himself available, his free time is literally dedicated to sex addicts behind a bar and people in the east side(?) of London. Moderation is not in that man’s vocabulary 🤣 He can say it’s for entertainment all he wants but I think he’s somewhat genuinely concerned 😂 he’s like a drug though, have a small taste and you end up wanting more and more.

I don’t particularly like the man’s personality but I understand it a lot better now. I can somewhat respect it but thats it 🤣 His lifestyle choice truly is understandable after reading his story and the “why” behind it all pulls at my heart a bit. Honestly the way he found out about his curse and fate did not help at all 😂 like young Roger had absolutely no consideration when he dropped the info on him. To young Roger it was like “a new subject!” Damn, what if he would’ve turned out a little different had young Roger just gone about it a different way. I believe this is the reason they don’t get along(?) it’s my understanding at least. When the route comes out in English I’m looking forward to reading his side stories to get to know him even more. I definitely find him interesting from a writing perspective. Great character concept and execution!

AH! I forgot to touch on the Elbert/Alfons dynamic. They’re so cute 🥰 you can really tell they care for each other. With their silly bets, Alfons leaving Elbert a handwritten note, and just other things 🤭 it’s great

This is such a bad pile of notes, I apologize for any mistakes but I needed to get my thoughts down and out 😂 Thank you

[cocogum]

The Great Wave - Chapter 4 Review

‼️ SPOILERS FOR THE CHAPTER ‼️

This might just be the weirdest chapter so far.

Because what just happened???

Meanwhile, far away from Aurora’s bullshit, we go to the borders of Amakna. And not gonna lie, I just feel genuinely surprised by that one town they got us to zoom in on.

You’re telling me that after all those centuries, there are still regions that haven’t been touched by ANY calamities?? Really? NO CALAMITIES?

First panel:

Elsewhere, on the borders of Amakna.

Spared from wars and natural cataclysms…

These people either live very far away from other regions like Frigost or their villages are just way too small to ever be noticed by danger itself. With all the stuff we’ve seen in the World of Twelve and how many disasters people have been in, it’s just so odd to see that there are still places in the world that have never been affected by anything before.

I don’t know why but just seeing these people having fun and enjoying life makes me sick.

Like what do you mean they’re not suffering or have never heard of any danger??? Don’t these people know what stress is???

People are even giving each other kamas as if it were nothing. They support each other and help no matter when or where they are or with who they are.

This is way too good to be true, they just HAVE to suffer.

And as if my prayers have been answered, here comes the part where it all goes to shit 🥰 Except that this wasn’t what I was expecting… AT ALL.

BECAUSE WHY IS JULITH HERE?!!??

And I STILL haven’t figured out who’s the dragon with the Ebony dofus! (he’s kinda sexy-looking tho ngl)

I refuse to believe that that’s Grougalorasalar because why on earth would he be the one to hate Yugo after he PURPOSELY JOINED IN OGREST’S CHAOS??? Bro is hating on a traumatized man who grew up in a day cuz he accidentally created a calamity but didn’t mention the fact that he himself PARTICIPATED IN A CALAMITY.

So for now I’ll just call him “the dragon”.

We can see how the dragon makes his appearance and immediately starts sucking out the souls of these villagers, which is not only a huge reference from the Dofus movie, where Julith has used that same technique with the exact dofus to try to revive her husband Jahash, but is also what the dragon is intending on doing by reviving Julith.

The only difference here however is that the dragon doesn’t seem to be nonchalant or even satisfied to steal their lives. He looks to be in misery at the idea of committing this action since we can see him shedding a tear at the lives he’s stealing. So we at least know he doesn’t entirely want to sacrifice a bunch of innocent people but for some reason has to.

Julith discovered that in order to revive Jahash, exactly 1000 souls needed to be stolen. Her findings have revealed that one person is equivalent to 1000 souls. As the dragon aimed to revive only Julith, it is likely that he actually sacrificed at least 1000 people from this town, which had been thriving until now.

What’s also shocking about this whole ordeal is that the reason why he came to this specific village was because Julith’s body had literally been under the ground this whole time.

These people had unfortunately been unlucky enough to have settled their homes over her body which resulted in the dragon using them as the perfect sacrifices to revive her.

But why bring back Julith?

Would the dragon be hiring her for a job? Julith used to be the guardian of the Ebony dofus so the dragon somewhat had a reason to bring her back but why now then?

Would he use Julith to make her fight Yugo?

Is that what this is all about? Or is there more to it? Also, would Joris be in the later chapters or the next volume to see her again after all those centuries?

This chapter gave us so many questions and very few answers. Because now that we know what the dragon intended to do with the village, we now have to wonder what he plans to do with Julith.

I don’t know about all of this but I do think it’s ironic that Julith got revived by the very same technique that she intended to use on Jahash only to refuse to go through the complete process at the last minute.