#there are more parts after that tho

[misarumis]

Welcoming the Night With You, a short comic series about Teredio's first time

yeah, unfortunately ill probably have to upload this page by page, otherwise ill never get it done... i hope itll be enjoyable either way!

[hinamie]

I don't want to regret the way I lived

[ryllen]

d a m n , i t ' s ' i ' ... not 'we' i guess everybody can perish now

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny dies every night.

So! Danny's secret Ghost Powers remained a secret for about 6 Hours.

After turning back into a Human, he had immediately gone back to his room and tried to fall asleep, pretending none of it was even real, that it was just a dream. The idea that he had just died was understandably hard to swallow, not to mention the fact he had somehow come back.

All he wanted to do was rest and figure it out later. It was a problem for Future Danny.

Except when he woke up, something was wrong.

He felt Cold, Colder than he had ever been before. It was as if he had a chunk of pure Ice stuck in his Chest, the cold spreading across every part of his body. With a start he realized that his chest wasn't moving at all, either from the beating of his heart or the breaths he was supposed to be taking.

He wasn't breathing. His heart wasn't pumping. The Ice in his chest was the feeling of his heart not pumping, still and unnaturally cold. At that realization, he felt his Heart begin beating again.

He ran downstairs, hoping to get his parents help. He didn't know what was going on exactly, but they must be able to help him right?! They were the leading experts on Undead Biology, they must know how to help him!

When he reached the kitchen, he saw his parents and Jazz huddled together at the table, crying together for some reason.

"Mom! Dad! Jazz! Somethings wrong! I don't know what happened, but last night I-"

He stopped when he saw their faces. Their cheeks were tear-streaked, eyes bloodshot, but the thing he noticed first was the grief and absolutely confusion in their eyes. They were staring at him as if they had seen a Ghost, figuratively of course, and they seemed to he trying to connect the dots in their heads.

"Danny?" Jazz asked in a shaky voice. "Is that you?"

"Jazz?" He asked in return, "What do you mean, of course it's me?"

She looked hopeful for a moment, before his mom stood up.

"No." She said, her voice held a hard edge. "It's not."

Danny almost fell over when she said that. "W-what?" He asked, "What are you talking about Mo-"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" She yelled. She gripped the Blaster in her hand tighter, aiming it at him. "I checked everything when we found Danny's body! He had no Pulse, no Brain Activity, and his Ecto Levels were far higher than normal! Danny is Dead! And you killed him!"

"What?!" Danny yelled in shock, "I didn't kill hi-I mean, I didn't kill me-I mean-What are you talking about!?"

This time his dad answered, getting up from the table himself. In his hand was another Blaster. "Danny's Ecto Levels could only have been that high if killed by something with a large amount of Ectoplasm, enough to leave such a mark. The Portal was open for hours last night before we found it and sealed it up, and that's when you got through isn't it!?"

His Dad leveled the Blaster to him.

"No! I'm not a Ghost, it's me! It's Danny!?" He pleaded, "Mom, I always baked you a cake on mother's day! Dad, I helped you clean up the lab the last time you blew it up! It's me!"

"Nice try." His mother said, "Die again, Ecto Scum."

That day, Danny ran away from home.

...

Ever since that day, Danny had been running as far as he could from Amity Park.

After he got out of the house, he tried to find any place he could hide as he figured everything out. His first try was Tucker, but his parents had anticipated that and beat him to the Punch. The same happened when he tried to go to Sam's, he barely escaped that situation alive(?).

At first he tried to stay in Amity, hoping he would eventually find a way to convince his parents of his true identity, so everything could go back to normal.

He abandoned that hope about a week later, when his parents got the local authorities on their side and issued a public service announcement stating he was a Murderer who killed their son, and to contact the Police if anybody saw him. The mindless Ghost they captured and presented on the Local News cemented the publics view on him.

So he ran from Amity.

The first few weeks on the Run were the worst. He wasn't used to surviving on the street, much less evading the Law Enforcement that seemed to keep finding him. He had to constantly stay on the move to keep away from the pursuit of his Parents, the Police, and the weird guys in white suits who had shown up once he passed the State Border.

His new Ghost Powers were the only thing that had let him get away most of those times. He could turn into a Full Ghost whenever he wanted, unlocking all of his powers for the time being, but also seemingly sending up a Beacon to whoever was looking for him. He found it was much easier to use their weakened versions in his Human Form.

As for his Undead-ness, he had mostly figured it out. His body was lying to him. He was Dead, but his Body was just pretending to be alive for his own sake. He didn't need to breath anymore, and his heart didn't need to pump, but they did because he felt that they needed to. He probably didn't even need to eat anymore.

The problem was that it couldn't keep it up when he was asleep. No matter what, every time he fell asleep his Body would die again, and when he woke up he would have to make it Live again.

One of the main reasons he kept getting caught recently was because well-meaning civilians would report to the Police that there was a Dead Teenager under a Bridge, or on a Park Bench, or on one memorable occasion in a Ditch. He would wake up in a Body Bag, escape, and be reported to his Pursuers.

At least his pattern of movement was untraceable so far.

Turns out, the Portal's opening had much more of an effect than his parents had anticipated. The Shockwave in the fabric of Reality when they punched a hole through it (and him), had caused dozens of Natural Portals to form across the Country, opening and closing in random places, soaking the area of Ectoplasm.

As an apparent Ghost, Danny was somehow drawn to these places. Whenever he got to one he felt rejuvenated, as if the stress of the past few days had never happened to him. He could only assume that he was Absorbing the Ectoplasm in the area to feed himself, based on a few of the things he remembered from his parents constant ramblings.

Whenever he would go to one of these places, he would find a bunch of Ghosts. Some were friendly, defying all of his expectations, while others were...less so.

They seemed to resent the fact that he was still half-alive, some simply jabbing insults at him, others straight up attacking him. It seemed that Life was a sore subject among those guys. Or maybe it was him stopping them whenever they attacked humans...that was probably more accurate.

Sometimes the Ghosts he would meet were in the middle of attacking humans to fulfill what they called their "Obsessions". He learned that all Undead, and basically all Immortal Beings, have Obsessions. They are their Sole Purpose in existence, a built in defense mechanism against insanity by giving them something to dedicate Eternity to.

He didn't know if he had an Obsession, but if he did he hoped it was easier to manage than theirs seemed to be. One of them was obsessed with attention, but got it by hypnotizing humans into adoring her. She chilled out after a while. Another loved the thrill of the Hunt, but only wanted rare game. He chased after Danny a lot in pursuit of his "One of a Kind Pelt".

He fought then off and saved people whenever he could, although sometimes it was risky. Many of them were older and more experienced than him, so he was forced to use his Ghost Form against some of them, sacrificing his hiding spot to save the people being terrorized.

He sort of enjoyed it. Whenever he helped people, saved them from danger, he felt better about his situation. As if he was making the best out of the horrible situation his life had turned into by helping as many people as he could. He always felt a bit more motivated to keep going every time he helped anybody.

Maybe that was his Obsession? Helping others? He didn't really think so, he was nowhere near altruistic enough to consider that a possibility. Maybe it was Space? He always felt that same relief when he would camp out away from the Cities. Eh, he'll probably never know.

This cycle of finding a new hiding spot, getting discovered, and running away again continued for a while. Years even.

Danny had Died at 14. He was now 17, and had been homeless for 3 years.

He hoped this next hiding spot would last a bit longer than the previous ones. This one felt different, the Ectoplasm he was wandering towards felt older than the other places he had gone. His previous hiding spots had always been the site of a recent Natural Portal, and the Ectoplasm in the atmosphere would feel Fresh and Wild.

But the Ectoplasm where he was going tasted Older, Stronger, more Set in Stone than the others had. Wherever he wad headed to next, it had been soaking in Ectoplasm for far longer than any other place he had ever been, even in Amity.

He walked up the the Sign at the side of the road, introducing the City to newcomers.

"Welcome to Gotham City" it said.

[kaiserouo]

if ordan karris wanna complete that sentence does that mean he also likes us?

[turtleblogatlast]

Every day I’m haunted by the fact the boys happily swim in sewer water

Even if it’s filtered somehow there’s no way it’s not still nasty 😭 Bet they can defeat any of their villains just by accidentally giving them diseases I swear

[collapseinthepit]

Since glue stopped working a while ago I pivoted 2 floss.... Is there anything she cant do?

[last-starry-sky]

too sweet pt 4 - innocent!reader x graves

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

✨Thank you again to the lovely @shotmrmiller for letting me work off of her original idea!🌟

NSFW(finally, lmao) - MIND THE WARNINGS - MDNI: [lots of pet names, oral, again i’m REALLY leaning into how much of a virgin reader is, religion mention, pov switches, loss of virginity, unprotected piv (cumming inside), more of graves being just the absolute worst in both ❤️ and 💀 flavors (it’s all in his head. No harm comes to our dear reader), Phil talks you through it, this is 13 pages (5.9k words) of me absolutely lost in the sauce, so buckle up friends. a/n at the end!]

You fell the short distance out of Phil’s arms to the bed with a soft oof! You bounced up once before his pillowy comforter surrounded you, sweetly swaddling you like baby. You closed your eyes, catching your breath as you surrendered your body into the cool, linen-freshness swallowing your body. You hoped closing your eyes and a few deep breaths would stop the ceiling from spinning. You told yourself that your stomach was turning from nerves, nothing else. 

You really didn’t want puke to be a part of your first time. 

You opened your eyes as Phil ran his hands up your legs, making room to stand between them. Your dress was still rucked up to your waist, the shamefully wet gusset of your panties on display. The way he looked at you had your hands curing into the sheets above your head. It was so dark. It was like nothing you’d seen cross your sweet boyfriend’s face before. Like a wolf ready to pounce, tear apart, consume. 

It worried you, but you were still hitching your knees around his hips, pulling him closer. His hands squeezed at your hips. His dark visage took on a little of his old self as his eyes dipped, a playful smile creeping across his mouth.

Why were you such a liar to yourself? He could never scare you. He excited you. Every single time.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hands smoothed up to, then over, your underwear. You expected him to rip them off. Instead, he circled your waist, urging you to sit up as he pulled your dress off your body. 

“There y’go, baby. Hands up,” he said, an edge of his usual humor in his dark voice, as he finally pulled the tight pink thing off you. 

He doesn’t watch where he throws it. Somewhere in the room behind him, you think. You don’t know either. You can’t make yourself meet his stare, focusing your wobbling vision instead on your hands clenched in your lap, of the warmth of his body pouring into the space between you. You know he’s staring at your exposed breasts. That’s all that matters to him. A soft whistle falls from his lips as he wraps his hands around your thighs. 

You hide your blush by ducking your head into your chest, reaching up behind your neck to unclasp your necklace. He stopped you with a hand on your chin, making you face him.

“Leave it on, doll,” he says before hauling you in for another kiss.

You don’t know why, but this kiss felt so more intimate than the others. You’re flushed and panting against him as he holds your jaw against his, slowly stroking your tongue with his. Maybe it’s because you’re almost completely naked, his warm hands brushing down your chilled back. Oh, you could just about beg him to keep touching you. It could be how he’s got you pressed flush against him, your nipples hardening against the cool cotton of his button down shirt and legs hitched on his hips. His hard dick is nudging at your pussy through his pants, making you whine when he ruts just right against your clothed nub. It feels weird, like nothing you’ve felt before. Weird, but damn if some basal part of you doesn’t crave it. 

He broke the kiss, peeling himself away to pick you up again, just enough to throw you to the middle of the bed. He gets right back into position between your legs as you settle back into the fluff of his blankets. You don’t know what to do now as he takes a second to shimmy out of his button down. What does he expect of you? Should you lay back? Before you can overthink, you fall back onto your forearms. He tossed his shirt off the bed, his hair all ruffled, white undershirt pulled up to expose the muscles of his stomach, as he turns back to you. 

“Fuck are y’ gorgeous like this, darlin’,” he says staring down at you while unbuckling his belt. 

You wonder if he can feel your legs shake. You feel a fresh blush flush down your body. You chew on your bottom lip, trying not to stare as he lets his trousers fall down to his knees before kicking out of them. There’s a muffled metal jangle as the whole lot falls off the end of the bed to the floor.  

“Now where were we . . .” he mused with a quiet laugh as he crawled over you, pushing your back flat to the mattress before cradling your head to his for another kiss.

You thought it wouldn’t be so different, having him on top of you. You had been grinding against each other for going on hours at this point. You were slowly getting used to what he felt like, how your bodies slotted together best, how he touched you, and where it made sense for you to touch him. The addition of his weight, though? Amazing. You loved it. The feel of all of his muscle and bone, being free to feel each other’s skin free of clothing, it had you trembling underneath him. To have a whole person, let alone this powerful, muscled man, resting between your thighs, your chest squished to his as he sucked open mouth kisses under your jaw, had you clawing at his hair and moaning sweetly into the dark. 

“Thas’ it, baby. Tell me how y’like it,” he sighed as he continued kissing down your neck, his hands running down your sides, forcing a bow in the small of your back. 

You moaned a high pitched ah! when he placed a delicate kiss to your nipple. 

“Oh. Y’like that, do ya? My sensitive little thing,” he asked sucking the little nub into his mouth. 

You answered with a high-pitched keen, your hands pressed into the pillow above you. It did feel good. So good. Your body felt so hot and damp, sheets and hair sticking to your skin. He continued to suck at your nipple, every once and a while catching it with his teeth while playing with your other. He rubbed smooth little circles around it until it was hard, then pinched it, forcing a whiny, pained moan from you. 

Why was he doing this? He would make you feel so so good you felt like you were floating, just to turn on a dime to bite or pinch you were you were the most sensitive, pulling you out of the moment. You didn’t understand him. 

You looked down. He had that wide, wry, hungry smile. Eyes hooded and dark. Dangerous. You gasped when he suddenly looked up, catching your stare like a predator.

“Sorry baby,” he said syrupy sweet, giving your nipple a quick kiss. “‘m playin’ with you. I know. Don’t mean to. Gonna make you feel good.”

You didn’t understand what he meant until he slid farther down your body, pulling your underwear with him as he rocked up onto his knees. Your eyes quickly snapped up to the ceiling. You couldn’t help but tremble, knees knocking together until he pulled your panties past them. He took your feet in hand as he shucked them off you completely. There was a light sound as they hit the hardwood floor somewhere in the abyss behind him.  

He threw one of your legs to the side with a hand on your knee, stopping you from closing it back by slotting himself deftly back into place. You heard him breathe out a shuddering breath as he finally got a good, full look at you. His hand swept down your leg from your knee, falling closer and closer to your aching core.

“Phil,” you whined, so muffled by your arms covering your face that even you barely heard it.

A hand pushed your arms above your head, exposing your tear-filled eyes. He stared down at you, pushing your arms into the pillow with one hand, his other coming to rest on your stomach, just above your pussy. 

“Listen to me now, baby, okay?” he said lightly tapping your mons with his thumb, refusing to let you break eye contact. “‘m gonna make you feel good. You know that, right?” When you didn’t answer, he leaned down over you. “I’d never, ever, hurt you,” he whispered, nose nudging yours as he spoke. “Love you too much. Want you . . . want you to enjoy this as much as I will.”

You were shocked silent for a moment. Tears dried in the corners of your eyes before you were able to squeak out, “Love me?”

“‘course,” he said pecking a kiss to your bottom lip. 

You wanted so badly to grab him, to hold him close, to force him to kiss you again because, well . . . did you really need a reason? He just told you he loves you! You’d hoped for months that what you felt - you were over the moon for him from the moment you met - wasn’t really just a crush, a passing summer fling. You wanted to know that he was just as serious about your relationship as you were. You’d worried that the summer would end, you would go back to school, he would go off to some exotic and exciting place halfway around the world and your relationship would slowly peter out. 

Eventually, you knew, he would forget about you. After all, you had been denying his advances to make your relationship physical for a while. No matter how gentle they were or how nicely he took your refusals, you knew he would get tired of asking eventually. Guys were like that. Or so you’d been told. 

But now, he’d said he loved you. With those words, all of your anxiety washed away in one clean wipe, like a wave washing up the shore. All was good in the world. It put your mind at peace. Your apprehensions dissolved into his feather-light kisses and gentle touches. The only thing you wanted was to hear him say it over and over again but your couldn’t. All you could do was uselessly clench your hands in his strong grip. 

His fingers stroked ever so slowly down the seam of your pussy. He was treating you like a feral cat or an unbroken horse; with a light touch, soft words, and persistence. 

“Breathe,” he instructed, nuzzling into your neck again to kiss at the spot under your ear that made you moan. 

You did, pulling in a deep, shuddering breath that cleansed your need to cry. He placed another kiss on your neck as he let your hands go. Finally. You laced your free arms around his shoulders immediately, feeling him smile as he continued to mouth kisses over your pulse.

“That’s good, darlin’. Relax. Just like that,” he whispered as he ran his hand down your side, still soothing you. 

A moan punched out of your lungs when he pushed past your outer labia with a single finger, stroking just once, top to bottom, through your slick folds. You were sloppy, dripping wet. His head collapsed into the crook of your neck, a muffled, “fuck” following. He didn’t move, you trembled as his finger swirled up to circle around your clit.

“Ah! Phil,” you whined.  

“I know. I know,” he huffed breathlessly, lifting himself off you. 

He looked down your body to watch himself rub tight circles around your nub for a moment. He groaned before pulling his hand away. You cried out when he stopped, but he left no time for argument. He was grabbing the backs of both your knees, repositioning you open and shuffling backwards out of your grasp, laying kisses down your chest and stomach as he went.

“Lemme, fuck . . . just lemme make y’ feel good, sweets.” His mouth working farther south until you could feel his breath tickle your pussy. “Make you cum, promise,” he whispered, his next kiss tonguing at the base of your clit.

Your back arched, a needy “oh!” punched from your lungs. He didn’t wait for you to respond to dive in, thankfully. You were beyond words, already shaking from nerves and pleasure. 

“Want to taste you so bad,” he mumbled as he kissed slowly down the hood of your clit before swiping at the exposed head with his tongue, a spike of pleasure following.  

The feeling was amazing, unlike any pleasure you’d been able to bring yourself. You’d experimented before, by yourself, of course. Always in the dead of night, when you were certain your parents were asleep. You would wake up hot, a dream you couldn’t remember troubling you, making you ungodly slick in your pajamas. You would guiltily snake a hand down your body, trying not to move or make a sound as your finger slipped through the sopping mess you’d made. Those stolen moments were always something you would think of again in church with burning cheeks: how you’d sinned and now you must beg forgiveness. Not that you thought God would care, but you never could bring yourself to completion. You couldn’t find that beautiful, spine-chilling, white-hot peak that so many romance novels described. 

It made you worry, as Phil gently swirled his tongue around your clit making you shiver, because he was clearly putting in a lot of effort. You really didn’t want to disappoint him. Didn’t want his first intimate memory of you to be one where he couldn’t make you cum.

“Hey,” he whispered, pulling himself out of your pussy just enough to look at you down your body. You squirmed as he held eye contact while licking another swipe up your clit. “Clos’ y’ eyes. Breathe. Relax.”

After you did all three, exactly as he asked, he gave your hip a squeeze before nuzzling himself back between your thighs. 

“That’s my girl,” you heard him say before the lewd, wet clicking of his mouth against you filled the room. 

He continued to gently lick at you, drawing loose circles with his tongue before sucking your nub into his mouth. He continued that pattern: slow, patient movements with an ungodly endurance, until your thighs started to shake against his head. You had been here before. A lovely hot coil budding in your gut, wrapping tighter and tighter. But this time, it wasn’t stopping. 

Maybe this is what you had needed all along: someone to take control and do all the work for you. Someone who wouldn’t stop to look nervously toward the door, or worry if someone down the hall could hear, or even think about if this was morally wrong. All he cared about was you. Your pleasure, the soft plush of your thighs around his head, your voice cracking as you moaned his name and rocked your hips against his face. 

Phil wound his arm around your leg, pressing your hips to the bed with a firm hand on your lower stomach. He used his leverage to splay you open before diving back in at that relentlessly slow pace. You threw your head back, a string of breathy pants falling from your mouth until Phil reached up to place your hands on his head. Your fingers carded through his soft hair. He tipped his slick-coated face to the side to sneak a peek at your blissed out face as his tongue pressed up the side of your clit. Your fingers tightened, grabbing a fistful of hair, as a delicious tingle danced at the edge of your clit, right were his tongue flicked. 

“So sweet. Taste so good, baby,” he said in a breathy whine. 

You couldn’t answer, only able to buck abortively against the strong arm holding you down, hoping it would make him pick up the pace. He laughed before lowering back down. His actions became harder and faster: nipping at your hood at every rotation as his tongue flicked aggressively against your poor, exposed pearl. 

It was frustrating. He was no longer pulling you higher and higher as effortlessly. Everything he did, no matter how good it felt, was just maintaining your buzz. You could feel your clit vibrating you were so close, but he wasn’t pulling you over. It’s like he was teasing you with that tingle in your belly, giving you just enough to keep you moaning, begging, as you fell into the hot wet swipes of his tongue, before pulling back to make you work for it all over again. It made you cry in frustration. 

It wasn’t enough. You needed more. 

Your eyes were screwed shut when he pulled away and asked, “What, baby? What-”

“More!” you squeaked. “Please, more!”

He nodded as he readjusted your body to sling a leg over his shoulder. You cried out as his finger pressed to your spit-slicked clit with a pressure that you’d never felt. Your hands just couldn’t compare to his. It wasn’t fair. Electricity shot up your spine as you shivered in his arms at the white-hot pleasure that flared out. 

“That’s my girl. There you go,” he whispered as he kissed down your clit to where his finger worked in hard, tight circles. You bucked into each roll, your hole clenching uselessly against nothing. “There you go,” he repeated as you shuddered, tip-toeing closer and closer to that edge.

Want became your mantra. You could feel it. You wanted it. You want. You want. You want.   

“Please, Phil. Please,” your voice a thready whine. “Want to cum, so bad.”

“You can do it, baby,” he cooed sweetly against your mons. “I can feel ya. So tight. Y’so close.” He laid a kiss on your clit before looking up to catch your teary eyes. “Cum for me,” he commanded, with a voice fucked out, rough, stern.

And, oh, did you follow him. 

It was just enough. Like a breath blowing the head off a dandelion, it sent you scattering into a million pieces. You snapped beneath him, a scream tearing from your throat as your leg clamped down on Phil’s shoulder. Your fingers tore at his hair, the only thing grounding you, as you lost control of your body. You writhed against the sheets, struggling to draw in air as electrical pleasure fried your brain. It was beautiful at the top. A pure and white peaceful glow: no sound but your own breathy moans, no feeling but your boyfriend’s fingers swirling again and again over your twitching clit, extending your flight. 

You never wanted to forget this moment. 

You rolled your head to the side as over-stimulation hit, whining at the feeling of the cool pillow beneath you. A sudden jolt back into the real world. Phil stopped touching you without you having to tell him, which was nice. Your whole body went slack, dazed, pliant. You didn’t think you could form words at the moment even if you wanted.

Phil groaned as he rose up from between your legs. The sudden loss of his warmth made you whine again. You were struck with this intense, emotional need to keep him next to you. He’s yours, an animal part of your brain told you. Do not let him go. 

It made you roll your head to the side and open you eyes. You were just in time to see him pull his undershirt off his head, wiping his mouth with it before rolling it down his arms. Your eyes widened at the dark design across his left pectoral, right above his heart. You looked up at him nervously, wondering why he never told you he had a tattoo.

“Yeah,” he said looking down at the eagle topped globe, an anchor roughly rendered behind it, swiping at it with his thumb like he wanted to wipe it away. “Got it when I was young. Stupid. Too much money,” he said with a small smile as he finally tossed his shirt to the side. He rubbed your hip as he looked down at you with a smoldering gaze. “Hope that doesn’t ruin anything.”

“No,” you whispered, head rolling back and forth as you suddenly found the courage to let your eyes trail down his body.

Good God, what a body he had. You knew he was fit from the tight fitting t shirts and shorts that fell just above his knees that he wore all summer. He had been on the edge of bulky when you first met him but had tapered down into a more lean physique through the long, lazy summer. His chest and arms were his pride, you’d gathered, from how he refused to let them go soft with the rest of his muscles. After all, he needed a place for you to rest your head, didn’t he? And how could he let himself not be strong enough to pick you up and carry you around? To have everything revealed to you, to see how his chest tapered into his waist, how his hips (now supporting your legs) poked above the band of his briefs . . . that he was rolling down his thigh with his free hand. 

Phil didn’t break his gaze, drinking in the nervous, almost fatally curious, expression on your face as he took his time shuffling off his underwear. He went a little bit down on one side, just  to the bend of his hip, then slid his hand across the elastic, ignoring his cock, to push the other side farther down. It was unnecessarily slow, but he loved teasing you. Loved watching you react even more. One of your hands was already clenched around nothing as it rest against your stomach. The other was plastered across your mouth. Your hand couldn’t cover how wide your eyes were, or how your eyebrows went from bunched in concern to halfway up your forehead in surprise. 

It made him smile as he finally pulled himself from his briefs, revealing himself to you. Your eyes darted suddenly away, but you couldn’t smother the soft, “oh” that fell from you lips or the fresh blush spreading down your chest. It was delicious. 

He took his time pushing his underwear down his muscled thighs, stepping toward you on his knees to get them shuffled down his lower legs. The time it took was no bother. Why rush when he had the most beautiful creature in the world right in front of him? 

He held your legs open, petting your skin with slow, soft circles, as he looked at the glossy mess he’d created between your legs. It was amazing. You were wet from your bikini line to your thighs, and it was sweetly pooled in every crevice. He couldn’t help but reach out, running the tips of his fingers through the slick pooled around your clit.

“Phil-” you cried, covering your face with both hands.

You tried to jerk your legs closed too, but he was too quick. He caught them, forcing your knees back around his hips. This was as good a sign as any that it was time to move things along.

“Shhh, baby. It’s okay,” he whispered, leaning down on his elbows to hold you in his arms. 

He had to peel your hands away from your face to get a look at you. There was no way he was going to miss out on how you looked through all of this. He knew this position wouldn’t be the most comfortable for you, but he couldn’t help but be a little bit more selfish. You would understand one day that your pain was worth the look he caught as his cockhead nudged accidentally against your clit, sliding effortlessly up through the combination of slick and saliva. 

You just looked so helpless, so lost. It should have hurt him, how could you not trust him after everything he’s done so far? Nevermind the amazing orgasm he just gave you. But he was an adult: a man with a deep, dark, corrupted soul, so he understood. You needed him to continue leading you. Lucky you, leadership came naturally to him.

He wiped a line of tears from your lashes as he held your face in his hands. 

“What’s wrong, darlin’? Doin’ okay?” he asked.

You shook your head yes, squeezing out fresh tears from your eyes as you gripped his hands.

“Just . . .” you warbled out, trying to catch your breath, “just scared.”

“Why you scared, baby?”

“It’s . . . is it . . .” you said trying to turn your head to look down your body to where he was pressed to you, cock barely humping through that sinful slick. “Is it gonna hurt?”

He let out the breath he was holding. “No, sweetie,” he said shaking his head. “Not if you listen and do what I tell you. You can do that, right?” 

He added a little smile at the end and you smiled back with a nod, tears drying. He felt his cock pulse as he leaned down to kiss you. Of course you would be so good, do as you’re told, let him take care of you.

A path straight to hell, and you’re paving it with easy choices and good intentions.

He pushed further down to deepen the kiss, tongue laving over your lips until you tipped your head back with a sigh, opening your mouth, letting him in. It would be a good distraction for what he had to do next. He propped himself up with his free arm, reaching down to notch his cockhead at your entrance. It’s rough and sloppy, not being able to see where he’s going. The mess between your legs didn’t help either. He slid his cock around through your slick, coating his hand as he barely missing your vagina several times before an aggressive nudge of his hips popped it in. 

It knocked the breath out of you. He felt you clench at the head of his cock, breaking away from the kiss with a breathless whine. He stopped you before you could protest. 

He nuzzled into your neck and groaned, “Fuuuck, baby. I’m in. That’s it. I’m in.”

You still squirmed and whined. He should have known you would need more direct instruction.

“Listen to me, darlin’,” he said breathless, picking himself back up to look at you, nudging his cock around experimentally, trying to work himself further into that tight, heavenly chanel. “Look at me,” he commanded.

You stopped, opening your eyes. They’re rimmed with fresh tears. 

“Gotta relax okay, baby? Or else it’s gonna hurt. Don’t wanna hurt you.”

He watched you let out a few shallow breaths, chest heaving with each one, before inhaling one deep one. You held the breath for a second before pursing your lips in a pretty circle, blowing it out. 

“Better?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said with a nod.

“‘kay. Now, listen to me,” he said leaning over you enough to let his hair brush over your face, mattress squawking as he pressed your legs to your chest. A low ohhh wringing out of your throat. Your heels caught on his hips. “Gonna push in a lil’ bit, but you gotta stay relaxed. Can’t clench, okay?” 

Not that he couldn’t wait to feel you clenching around him. Fuck, he couldn’t even imagine how tight, how wet, how fuckin’ good, you would feel around him. He was pulsing just imagining it. You were his little virgin, after all. He was going to be your first and only and he was going to feel it, all of it. 

“Let me know if it hurts and I’ll stop,” he said with a groan, forcing himself deeper inside. 

You didn’t say anything, just wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, forcing his face down into the crook of your shoulder. He placed a kiss there, right on the chain of your necklace. He waited a few seconds as he held your hips, then finally began to pull his cock in and out just a bit. Good Lord, he was fucking you. Finally fucking you. A low whine, like a wolf or coyote howling far off in the distance, rattled in the back of your throat, almost too quiet to hear. 

He pulled against your arms, breaking your weak hold easily, to look at you again. You looked tired. Fucked out and exhausted, with half-lidded eyes barely able to stay open. That sheen of glitter-like sweat was back, sparkling down the column of your neck and across your temples. You had let your arms fall over your head, and there they still lay, heavy against the pillow. His poor girl was tuckered. 

“Okay?” he asked, trying to keep the movement of his hips smooth and shallow. 

He’ll do whatever he has to now to have you enjoy this, however slow and gentle he had to be. It’s bait. He needs to plant himself in the back of your mind. That will get you to come back for more, to want to stay, stay here with him. That’s when he’ll work his magic. Ambushing you right when you feel safe. Catch his pretty little prey in his snare and never let you go. Unfortunately for him, that meant not blowing his load the second he felt your slick run down his shaft.

“Yeah,” you croaked. Keeping your eyes open and following his voice taking all of your sapping strength. 

“Hurt?” he asked, picking up his pace, but not trying to force anymore of his cock in you. 

Just have to get in a little more, he tells himself. Work her open a little more and then you can.

“No . . .” you said with a whine, letting your head roll to the side, eyes closing, as you fell into his comfortable rhythm. Phil watched as your breasts swirled in time to his thrusts. Such a pretty dance they did. He had to bite his lip from leaning down to nip at them. “Just a little sore.”

“Like you pulled a muscle?” he said with a smile, brushing the sweat-slicked hair from your forehead. “That’s normal, babe. You’re doin’ so good.”

You nodded back at him, cheeks flushing as he trailed his fingers down your face. You were so cute like this. He let his hand brush innocuously over the little silver cross in the hollow of your neck as he pulled it back. 

What a good girl you were.

“‘s lot for your poor little kitty to take all at once, honey,” he said sweetly, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth. He was ramping up his pace as his own pleasure curled within him, his hips snapping into yours with a wet smack as they met. He felt himself push deeper and deeper into you, your greedy pussy swallowing everything he gave you. Before he knew it, fuck, he was right where he wanted to be. “Don’t you worry, you’ll feel all better by the mornin’.”   

You turned to meet his mouth with a whine. He caught you, sealing his lips over yours as he pounded full thrusts into your wet hole. His need was clouding his mind, narrowing his vision to a pinpoint centered on the thought of his cock bruising your sweet little cervix. You opened your mouth, to scream or moan he’ll never know, but he was right there, prepared, diving in to silence you with his tongue. You clenched down on him as he smothered your voice and it had him seeing stars.

Not that he had to make this last any longer, but it just felt so good. He would have fucked you all night if you let him, pulling back as he came close to that peak, denying himself climax until the very end, until you begged him to finally cum in your sore pussy. 

Later. One day, he told himself.  

Tonight was the end of phase one. Tomorrow began phase two. It was the next step of the plan he had so carefully executed over the last couple months. If this went well, he was in the clear, golden. He sighed with contentment as you tipped back your head and moaned. He would have you, completely and finally. All he had to do was follow his plan.

He couldn’t ignore how badly he wanted to cum anymore. His cock was so engorged it was getting increasingly harder to pull out of you, especially now that you were clamping down on him every time he managed to nail you right in the cervix. 

He pulled himself out of his head and let his body control the last of his actions. He pulled you into his arms, buried his face in your neck and whined out, “Fuuuuck baby. Fuck. Feel so good. I’m gonna-”

When he felt your legs wrap up around his back with a whine, he sent out one last message from the rational part of his brain: Don’t pull out. He could only hope the other side of him would obey.

He didn’t remember much once the endorphin rush of his orgasm hit. He felt you wrap your arms around his neck, and your heels bury into the small of his back. You might have even whined out his name. All he could follow was the play-by-play of those last few seconds after: ramming himself in as deep as he could, the feeling of his cock expanding within you, pushing back against those taut muscles, then he was lost in the rush of his seed pumping deep deep within. 

He remembered a groan as he reluctantly pulled himself off, then out, of you. How small you looked, sweating and trembling against the sheets as he searched the bed for a blanket. He was still in a haze as he pulled your back to his chest, pawing at the blanket with no motor control in an attempt to share it between the two of you. 

It felt amazing to finally have you here: falling asleep, skin to skin, in his bed. He let out a long breath, stretching his legs down the bed, as his mind cleared. He could still feel your heart pounding where he held you in his arms. How quickly you had surrendered to sleep. He buried his face in your hair and inhaled the last remnants of your fruity shampoo - or was it your body spray? he didn’t remember - through the sweat and sex in the air. Only then did he finally let himself doze off.

He needed all the sleep he could get. Tomorrow was a big day. 

a/n: hello. it’s me. The girlie who ACTUALLY popped her cherry in her late twenties :) Also, sorry this took so long!!! I have no good explanation besides the fact that I was working on other things for lovely anons. I took a lot of time trying to get everything feeling just right and I still feel like it’s not great :( (i feel i will never write a good orgasm i s2g) but here it is! It’s also very loooong because i wanted all of the sex DONE and in one goddamn chapter. Anywho, hope you all like it! 

[pup-pee]

kyle keychain design

[flowerakatsuka]

the flowers for the wake were lovely, weren't they?

[svtskneecaps]

ok among my favorite parts of qsmp is the fact that charlie slimecicle can only hold the act of being mad at mariana when mariana isn't in the room. like he successfully rp'd being mad at his deadbeat puta esposa for months while mariana wasn't logging on, like he complained about mariana at the wedding, during the election, in subsequent appearances, and then he's messaging mariana in the chat during purgatory and he's still holding it

and then they're both at spawn like as close to face to face as they get. and bro CANNOT hold the act it drops so fast lmfao he was like "yea cellbit i'm gonna kill mariana" and instead they have a genuinely heartfelt conversation and then rp sexo in the fountain

and i know i'm brainrotting purgatory rn but i'm actually thinking about this bc i saw a clip of mariana and slime talking during the awards show and literally. slime's face goes from 😡🤬 MARIANA'S HERE, SAY SOMETHING PUTA ESPOSA to 😄😁 the second mariana shows up on the screen

like he's still pretending to be mad but dude is grinning like absolute crazy and i love that

[ryllen]

overblot grim with Yuu who accidentally get carried on his back

[lunarharp]

played dragon age 2...just simple scribbles

[death-draws]

yayyyy its here what was meant to be my Pride Comic, only a little late in time for his birthdayyyy

TW: the next bits are going to have a bomb threat and canon typical violence btwww

[pocketscribbs]

Tangle’s Birthday Part 6(scrapped part lol)

Sonic at it again with his dramatic entrances or something

First/Prev/replace this part with THIS one

[pianostarinwonderland]

Now it's likely we will enter everyone's dream what do you think azul dream would be?

rubs hands Ohhhh anon, you're in luck because I have so many thoughts.

Since I also have ideas for the tweels, I'll take this time to write what I think all the Octavinelle dreams will be like. Most of these are my own thoughts, but some ideas are from friends. And because I love the trio so much, I'll also write my own ideas of what would possibly get them to wake up and such.

General notes before listing the individual dreams:

May be an obvious point, but I think all 3 of them will have each other in their dreams. Octa trio are very close, and I don't think they can imagine not having each other in their lives. It also matches how their initial dorm card art have each other + how all three of their stories are tied together.

I think that Jade is going to be the Octavinelle dream segment's SSR because of the twins, Kalim and co. will likely have an easier time waking Floyd up. Jade may need some prodding from someone more familiar with him.

However, I do acknowledge the argument made by my friend that it is possible for Floyd to be the SSR as he's the rightmost one in the order you find at the lessons (if you notice, the order goes Ortho > Lilia > Rook > Kalim (though Kalim is an exception) with Sebek in between Lilia and Rook, and they're the rightmost ones in their dorm order seen in lessons. Floyd is the rightmost one in the Octavinelle order). And I wouldn't be surprised if TWST decides to pull that out. But admittedly, I don't know what exactly would make Floyd's dream deep enough that he needs to be woken up by someone more familiar, so I write the dreams with the assumption that Jade will be the SSR.

Though not necessarily going to be important in the following ramble, I have a feeling that they will release Coral Sea's hometown event to be able to use certain assets (i.e. backgrounds, possible official reveal of Azul's merform) in book 7, just like Vil's hometown event was used for the Pomefiore dream segment.

As a disclaimer, I don't have full translations of the last two updates so I may not have the most accurate ideas for how the Octa dream segment can turn out because there are patterns they're following here. Many of these are still brainrot induced (even though I think I make good logic wheezes).

Ok, with all that said, here are my thoughts for the Octa trio's dreams :>>

Floyd Leech: Living underwater with Jade and Azul

It's not a secret that Floyd is at his happiest when he's in his merform. Among the trio, he's the one who transforms the most often into his merform. Some incidents include the time that he transformed during swimming class according to Ruggie (Book 3) and Vargas Camp where he transformed to get fish. Floyd is also the one who tells the most stories of his time under the sea with Jade and Azul. We know about their middle school band because of him (Robe Kalim vignette); we know about Azul's actual size in his octopus form because of him (Beans 2 main story); we know about the music contests they used to join because of him (Portfest Floyd vignette).

So it makes sense that his dream would be in the sea, where he's in his merform. It's also going to be pretty simplistic, depicting a happy life underwater.

TWST tends to be very comedic, especially with the first dream. So my friend suggested it would be fun if there were literal fish versions of the cast in his dream 😂 so we could have live2D assets of a literal goldfish Riddle, crab Ace, sea snake Jamil, etc.

Jade and Azul of course would be in merform along with him. Maybe they might be playing in their middle school band: Floyd on drums, Jade on bass, and Azul on piano (and maybe their audience is composed of the NRC cast as fish).

In this dream, maybe Floyd has no memory of ever being on land with Jade and Azul. So that may be what the others will use to wake him up.

Jamil would probably remind Floyd of basketball club days + dancing, and Ortho would probably remind him of his love for shoes. These could be pretty reasonable as the permanent card vignettes (so SR Robe/Lab, R Uni/PE, SSR Dorm) seem to be compliant with the canon of the main story. Grim would probably remind him as well of Book 3's events and how he'd do fun shit with Azul and Jade at the Mostro Lounge. They would probably remind him as well that Jade and Azul love what they do on land.

I don't know where to insert this, but it's very likely that Azul in this dream does not hate his merform. Floyd talks highly of his merform (whether it looks yummy or very strong), so it's possible that he wishes that Azul loves himself just a little bit more (I really want to say it is hinted at, but at the moment, I have no idea if that's correct, let alone say where it is hinted at, so I won't say it like it's canon). And by extension, this can be Floyd's way of sharing that maybe Azul wouldn't have OB'd if he was more accepting of himself.

Jade Leech: If Azul never overblotted

Jade's dream would take a similar path to Rook's dream, in which the premise for the latter is that Vil never overblotted because he's not in conflict with Neige. And for Rook, that's okay, he just wants Vil to be happy, even if he looks on from afar. Except that for Jade, he wants to be the reason that Azul didn't have to overblot.

See, it's very subtle, but Jade is probably upset or even traumatized from Azul's overblot. While he never shows this (this motherfucker istg) the one small bit of evidence of this is in Book 4. Jamil's hypnotizing everyone, and Kalim, Azul, and the rest are frantic as they don't know what to do. But as Jamil is about to overblot, Jade tells him to stop, or else he will overblot. And that's a very interesting thing: why is it Jade who's the one telling Jamil that he'll overblot at the rate he was going? Why not Azul, who's both fascinated with Jamil and the one who underwent overblot? Or even Grim and Yuu who have 3 experiences of overblots by that time? Of course, that's not necessarily a guaranteed indication that Jade is upset from Azul's overblot, as in general, overblot is very dangerous and could kill a life. Jade may have been saying this to prevent Jamil from entering a life-or-death situation. However, I still find it intriguing that it's Jade who's warning Jamil, especially when another instance of another character trying to stop an OB was Kalim, who followed Vil since he was reminded of Jamil's own OB (and we know Jamil and Kalim have been together since forever).

There's two ways that this can go: either (1) Jade's dream follows like Rook's, or (2) it goes the opposite of Rook's.

In (1), Jade (and consequently, Floyd) would not be friends with Azul, and Azul would continue on as he is, only a lot more independent.

(1) stems from the fact that the plan Yuu hatched to destroy Azul's contracts was hinged on separating the twins from Azul. Jade might have realized this, either in Book 3 or off screen post Book 3. And in a similar fashion to Rook, he might blame himself a little bit for Azul not being able to get the contracts off of Leona on his own due to the fact that he and Floyd are always with him. So in his mind, he thinks he might be dragging Azul's potential down, and he knows how much Azul wants to become the best version of himself. So maybe he looks on from afar as well. Maybe he's still an Octavinelle student, but not the vice leader.

(2) also stems from that same fact, but it also has an additional element: In Book 3, Jade asked Azul if they should do anything about Leona, since it was unexpected for Yuu to stay in Savanaclaw. Azul replied that he probably won't act on anything, so he says not to disturb him. What if Jade might have been hooked onto this? That maybe he should have acted more upon his suspicions? That maybe he should have been more attentive when spying on Yuu and co to find out when they hatched this plan? So maybe in dream (2), he had a countermeasure or he just knew when to nudge Floyd to go back to the dorm before Leona destroyed the contracts. Then once that was dealt with, they deal with the photo and bam, Azul wins and they get the Ramshackle branch.

Both (1) and (2) are connected by Jade's wish in the Dances and Wishes event, where he expresses that his wish is for Azul's and Floyd's wishes to come true. In a sense, (1) fits this a bit better than (2). There's also the idea that moray eels have a cowardly nature, according to Floyd. (1) could be an expression of said nature within Jade.

But if you ask me, I think (2) is a bit more in line with Jade. Firstly because I doubt he can imagine not being close to Azul, secondly because I think in his ideal world, I think he'd wish he had more control over what happened (and Jade has a thing for control).

Thirdly, it matches in terms of how his dorm card and Rook's dorm card are both same and different. The gameplay of TWST tends to be intermingled with the story and characters at times. Dorm Jade and Rook both have first spells where they boost their ATK stat for 3 turns, with fire as their duo element. The differences between them are (a) card typing (Rook Attack vs. Jade Defense) and (b) M1/M3 elements (Flora/Water Rook vs. Water/Flora for Jade). This parallel can be reflected in their dreams vs. the reality of their situations. Rook dreamt of never being involved with Vil, but in real life he was in time to intervene and save Neige. Meanwhile, Jade would dream of being on time to stop Leona, while in real life, he was too late and only in time to kick Azul's ass out of his overblot.

And fourth, this is where you may wonder: Isn't Azul's second dream going to be the Book 3 AU, based on the patterns with Idia, Vil, and Jamil? To which I answer: yes! Definitely! But here's where I'm going to point out something: Jade and Azul not only have similar ish mindsets but also have the same paintings in their initial Platinum card art, just with flipped positions. I like to think that this is reflective of their dreams, where both of them wish to change the same events of Book 3, except that they'd go about it differently.

Jade would definitely be woken up by Floyd, who would remind him that what happened has already happened. (On this note, I wonder if we'll get to see one of their vicious sibling fights so Jade can wake up, but I'm just dreaming at this point)

By virtue of him being the SSR, we gotta think of what's the scenario that would make Jade cry! Him having to fight the fake Azul and Floyd might break him. Yeah, he's fought Floyd and all, probably dueled with Azul too, but it could be different when he has to be 100% serious about it. Either that or, there might be some part of him that hates the fact that it was a dream. And Floyd would have to snap him out of it, saying that everything is okay.

Azul Ashengrotto: Ultimate business owner + Book 3 AU

The first dream we enter, in typical Azul fashion, we're likely going to see him owning a whole chain of Mostro Lounge restaurants! And maybe not only that: he's probably running a hotel or two, he's got a delivery service going, he probably has a monopoly running while we're at it. Basically, it's all the stuff that he lists down in Book 6 before he sleeps on Riddle's shoulder.

His businesses expand over both land and sea. Since Azul prefers being on land, we may see him on land first before diving to the sea to check on business there. And that's where the first confrontation happens.

I think Azul would feel practically invincible by this point! And by invincible, he not only has everything he wants, but there's not a trace of his past to be discovered, so people think he's always been this intelligent and strong. So when he's confronted by Jade and Floyd, who share memories of his past (his shared past with them, from middle school to NRC), that's the first instance of Azul slowly starting to wake up and him panicking about his perfect world being fake. And it almost works until the dream versions of Jade and Floyd come in and remind Azul of the kind of invincible person he is.

Then they descend to the second dream, which is the Book 3 AU where Azul got his contracts from Leona and probably beat his ass. Except that the difference between this and Jade's dream is that Azul does this all by himself. When dream Jade and Floyd get back to him with the photo, they're praising him, all like, "Good job Azul! You're so strong and powerful! I'm glad I get to hang out with someone as awesome as you are!"

But the real Jade and Floyd would try to stop him from destroying the photo and tell him that it's a reminder of who he was, and how much he's grown. And if Azul succeeds in destroying that photo, Jade and Floyd would pull out the photos that they carry with them (think the album from the opening). They want him to accept the person that he was, and realize the person he is now is someone who's grown stronger. He has become better.

On how his dream would collapse, this is tricky. I would want that Azul destroys his contracts (thereby breaking the deal he made with Yuu, which would entail that his happy end has been broken), but him not destroying the photo would also cause the dream to collapse since the way to his happy end involves removing all ties to his past, namely the photos. He could do both. However, the trend so far is that foreign influence affecting the happy ending is what would break the dream. If anything, if Jade and Floyd do have their own copies of Azul's past photos, that means that the presence of those indicates that Azul's ties to his past are not broken at all, and therefore they would break the dream.

Then as per pattern, the others leave while Azul sinks deeper to try and wake himself up. He meets his OB self, who's steeped in his insecurities and is very unaccepting of his past. And this is where Azul accepts those insecurities and accepts his past but will continue to move forward with his life and grow to be a person he can be proud of, and fight his OB self. Then he faces his first dream and dream Jade and Floyd, and then he wakes up eventually.