#ch: 98

[every-monkey-d-luffy]

[every-god-usopp]

[every-nami]

[kyouka-supremacy]

Btw the make-up really washed away with the water. Lmao

[kikyocaps]

[yuzukahachimir]

THE GUY SHE WAS INTERESTING IN IT WASN'T A GUY AT ALL CH 98 SPOILER

Yep.

We need to be ready, Mitsuaya jealous arc is coming.a lot of people are noticing Mitsuki now is normal tbh,just look at her, she is so cool inside and outside and that is making Aya a bit less secure of herself because is noticing this and she doesn't like to share

[everytemari]

[deluxewhump]

Lawrenceville Baptist

I

Paulo is a "pet" (my pet whump universe, no animalization needed) abandoned on a rural road and found by a local community. One of the families, the Sullivans, take Paulo in. Here he meets their two sons, Jesse and Peter, and their friend Sam Morgan.

CW: water whump, cold, controlled drowning, dunking into water, multiple whumpers sort of, religion (Christianity) being applied insincerely, drug use implied , restraints

-

Paulo reeled and spluttered, gasping for a breath of winter air in the snowy paddock. Every inhale was a struggle, as it threatened to trigger another uncontrollable bout of coughing. If he went back under now, he was sure he'd drown.

“You’re lucky,” said a boy he’d met two days ago named Samson, whose hand had just been bruising the back of his neck.

“You could have ended up with anyone, lying on the side of the road like that. A cult could’ve picked you up.. Satan-worshippers. They wouldn’t go through all this for you. They’d sacrifice you.”

“Torture you to death,” Peter added thoughtfully.

Jesse and Peter, watching him be nearly drowned from the fence, were brothers. Paulo thought they looked nothing alike. He could tell Peter was not only smaller because he was a year or two younger but in general, with a slighter build. Jesse, the elder, was muscular and broad. He had pale skin and black hair, and over his glasses were thick, expressive eyebrows just like his father Glen’s. Peter had ashy brown hair and green eyes, and seemed to watch every move his older brother made as if looking for a cue.

Paulo nodded violently, trying to agree with anything and everything if it meant he might get into their good graces for a moment, just a moment. He had stopped dreaming of getting away from them. There was a reason he was here, and neither them, their parents, the pastor of the church who had decided his temporary fate of living with Peter and Jesse’s family, or the cops that watched the highway in and out of town were going to let him go without punishing him for darkening their doors at all.

The water Samson kept holding him under was freezing, and the sides of the plastic horse trough were frozen. Water burned in his esophagus, up his nose. One ear felt plugged with it, and he tasted blood when he licked his lips. His wrists were tied behind him with the rough orange twine that held hay bales together. Having his arms immobile made fighting Samson off or pulling himself out of the water on his own impossible.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Peter said. “What’s happened to you. Unless you did it to yourself.”

Paulo looked up at him, leaned up against the fence next to his brother. There was only calm sadness in his eyes. Why did he allow his friend to do this to him, then? Was he sad to watch him half-drowned, or sad it had to be this way because someone had made him a pet and tainted him?

“No,” agreed Samson. He had curly hair the color of hay and golden skin that made his blue eyes look somehow backlit. His teeth were uniform and straight as razor wire. “You’re right Peter, it’s not his fault. But it still happened, didn’t it?”

Sam knelt on the hardened snow so he was in front of Paulo’s dripping head. He placed a hand on each side of his face so earnestly Paulo thought for a confused and panicked moment he might try to kiss him. “You don’t want to die, do you?”

“Sam,” Jesse chastised sharply. He wore a paint-spattered canvas jacket like a contractor might wear, had his arms crossed and was making a face of mild disgust, furrowing his dark brows. “Don’t say shit like that.”

Samson turned his head to address his friend. Looking at his profile, Paulo saw he had long, golden lashes, a smattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose. His pupils looked too big, like a cat’s before it pounces. His hands partially covered Paulo’s wet ears. “I’m not suggesting that, Jesse,” he said as if he thought it was completely obvious. “I’m not saying that at all. I mean he has to repent to join the club. He has to show us he wants in with us. With you guys. With the church!”

Paulo got the sense that last bit was sarcastic.

“You’re just getting off,” Jesse answered. His arms were still crossed and his look of disgust was still intact. Whether it was for his friend or for him in general, Paulo didn’t know.

The breeze picked up and soaking wet Paulo shivered violently.

Samson turned back to him with a grin that dimpled his left cheek. “I’ll want it for you until you want it yourself,” he said quietly enough Paulo did not think the other boys had heard— it was meant for him alone. Samson was high, he realized. High or just drunk enough to be impulsive and mean without losing any of his motor skills.

“Please,” he whispered back, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. “Yes. Okay. Tell me how.”

“Are you serious? You’re done fucking around?”

“Yeah. I’m- I’m trying to do what you all want. If you’d just stop changing the goalpost.”

“I’m not changing your goalpost,” Samson said, and glanced down at Paulo’s bloody lip between his hands. He searched for his next words like he was doing improv, like it was a game. “I’m gauging your resolve. Your faith that we can help you. You want help, don’t you?”

“Sam,” Jesse called impatiently. “It’s freezing. You’re way too fucked up. Put him back in the barn before it gets dark and let’s go inside.”

Samson pretended to consider this before turning Paulo violently by the shoulders and pushing him under the water again, holding him down by the back of his neck before he had a chance to take and hold a deep breath.

It was Jesse that pulled him out, and Sam was on the ground, laughing.

Next

[every-denji]

[everychrollopanel]

panel 71

[whitecreekvalley-if]

*Mc about to do something that's definitely gonna hurt.

Mace trying to go stop them before it happens but judge stops him with his arm and shakes his head to leave it.

*The thing happens. Mc: "MOTHER Fucker!! You piece of Shit!" *Kicks the thing and it hurts them again. Mc: "!!!!....OW, fuck! That's it! You're dead, do you hear me, dead!" *Hits it multiple times more with a wrench which then bounces back and hits their face.

Mace: *wincing while this is happening "should we stop them...or?"

Judge: "Let me just enjoy this for a while longer. At least they don't give up that easily."

Mace would try to help the MC so bad while Judge on the side knowing there's a more efficient, logical, practical way to go about it like

[every-monkey-d-luffy]

oh hey mr. tophat man. i'm sure theres totally normal theories about you

[every-god-usopp]

[every-nami]

[everyonehappy]

[kikyocaps]