#please be a bastard /j

[myrmyrtheorca]

Jumpscaring my followers with the mention of another fandom to share with you guys my current experience with watching Bleach for the first time

(I promise you I'll answer all the asks in my inbox between this evening and tomorrow I'm just having a moment because of that bastard in pink)

[acourtofquestions]

Chaol considered. "My father is a bastard," he said quietly. "He has been in my life from my conception. Yet he never once bothered to ask the questions you pose," Chaol said.

"He never once cared enough to do so. He never once worried. That will be the difference."

"If Aedion chooses to forgive me."

"He will," Chaol said. He'd make Aedion do it.

"Why are you so certain?"

Chaol considered his words carefully before he again met Gavriel's striking gaze.

"Because you are his father," he said. "And no matter what might lie between you, Aedion will always want to forgive you."

[mercyluvsyouuu]

IM SO NORMAL OVER P03 :3 :3 :3 (<- is a horrible liar)

[jellykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 058 - Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Smut ◛⑅·˚ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

[ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. By interacting with this post you are fully aware that this is a work of fiction for 18+ readers.]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ I want you in my Blood Veins ] ¡! ❞

"Ngh.. Haa... Jinwoo please" You beg, gasping pathetically as you fumble around on the sheets that felt damp from the frequency of your activities with you lover. "I can't..."

"Yes, you can." Jinwoo purs against your ear, suckling gently on the shell of your ear as he continously pistons you from behind.

How many rounds has it even been since you both started?

The last time you were able to count it was fifteen.

Someway along the way way you had lost count from the fog that overwhelmed your brain with how insatiable this bastard is.

He came from work and then suddenly he's fucking you like he didn't do it last week.

Is Sung Jinwoo losing his fucking mind?

With his cock inside you?

Fuck Yes.

God, did he have to be so big?

Each time it feels like you're a virgin with how girthy he is. The veins poppingon the skin brushing inside you walls is driving you absolutely insane.

How can he get so big in such a short amount of time even?

Sung Jinwoo is not even human at this point.

"Hic!..." He groans, thrusting once more as he buries himself into you— And you swear his cockhead is kissing your cervix right now.

"J-jinwoo... Have mercy." You drool on the pillow, completely fucked out of your mind as you once again feel so lightheaded with the thick and creamy release flooding your insides.

the uterus is normally pink, but yours right now must be white.

"I'm not even done yet, sarang" Jinwoo purrs sadistically, pulling out and then flipping you over on your back so he can admire the mess he made.

"Look at you" He muses, swiping his thumb on your parted lips. "So pretty like this, how can you expect me to control myself?"

Hair sprayed on his pillows, your cute and swollen pink pussy overflowing with his semen, your releases mixed together in his sheets— How can he resist? How can a man like him be calm when the love of his life is this perfect and fuckable?

He praises you with sweet nothings as he once again slides inside your already sensitive insides as if he wants you with a child by the time he's done with you.

"Ah, fuck" Jinwoo groans as he leans his head back while thrusting in and out like a fucking animal.

Such a brutally beautiful man this psycho is.

You swear your eyes must be dilating into hearts shapes at this moment with the sight of his slicked back hair from the amount of sweat he is producing. His defined adam's apple is bobbing up and down over and over,

Those scars on his wondserful skin, those lovely and strong pecks littered with your nibbles and bite marks, those hazy grey eyes who can only see you in the midst of all this madness and debauchery—

You are just as clouded with lust as this man, you hypocrite.

So, your legs wrap around his waist no matter how limp you already are from the countless rounds and the sticky feeling originating from your overflowing core.

Really, you don't mind even if this bastard fucks you until sunrise♡.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Now before ya'll start qouting me on my last Jinwoo smut— STFU IK IM A HYPOCRITE NO NEED TO RUB SALT IN THE WOUND MFS QAQ. Miner Jinwoo is my kryptonite AND I AM IN HEAT YOUR HONOR. PLEASE SENTENCE ME TO LIFE IN PRISON PLEASE. I NEED HIM AND ITS NOT A JOKR ANM— ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[baeshijima]

— stardust

the world is a vast place. in the grand scheme of things, humans are but a speck of dust; much like how you are sure you are nothing but a meagre speck of dust in the world he lives in, forever to be remained unseen. (if only you knew how you are the brightest star he'd ever laid his eyes upon.)

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 1.5k wc, royalty!au, contract marriage/marriage of convenience, fluff, smitten reca bc what would he be other than smitten, a little hint of bittersweet at the end if read between the lines aha...

A/N : ....i have a paper due monday. i havent started it. why do i do this to myself. (reca i love u can u not hear my cries and wails as fic after fic appears in my brain for u...)

Duke Reca of the northern territory; to many he is a well-accomplished noble, a young genius set for greater things, and the owner-slash-founder of the top theatre company. He is an idol — a role model to those who aspire to be more involved in the artistic side of the world.

To you, however, he is an absolute lunatic, the bane of your existence, and your contractual husband.

It's not like you had much choice. It was either: a) remain as a hollow puppet whose strings danced at your family's fingertips, or b) find some way to escape with outside power.

You, of course, chose the second option. Unfortunately, that somehow led to you meeting the young duke when out in the shopping district, trying to escape the suffocating presence of your family's knights accompanying you by running into a secluded alleyway, even if it was for but a momentary breather.

It was a whirlwind of a meeting... quite literally. Bodies flew; clothing tousled; breaths stolen. Well, at least for you it was like this. He, on the other hand, looked right as rain. (Lucky bastard.) You hadn't realised it was him at first, too absorbed in hasty apologies and the numbing bloom spreading across your backside like a wildfire (really, they ought to incorporate more padding in these flimsy clothes!), but when he uttered an apology of his own for not paying attention to his surroundings with an arm outstretched to help you stand, your mind all but blanked. What was someone of his status doing in a dingy alley? Didn't the newspapers report word of his self-confinement, having not stepped foot outside his manor in fervent preparation of his upcoming performance?

No, never mind all that; wasn't this a blatant opportunity being presented to you? An outside power that could help you escape the clutches of your family...

With gritted teeth, all sense of self-dignity was cast aside as you grasped his outstretched hand with both of your own, gazing into his widened eyes with your own narrowed ones.

"Your Grace, I know this is hardly the appropriate time nor place, but please... marry me!" Your words echoed within the enclosed space. Duke Reca blinked slowly down at you, and it was then you realised you never elaborated. "In... in a contractual marriage of convenience, of course."

"Oh?" he grinned, amusement and intrigue twinkling in his eyes. "And what is it you can offer me?"

"I..." Truthfully, there was nothing you could offer which would be beneficial to someone like him who had everything at the tips of his fingers. You were but a speck of dust in his world, merely floating and remaining unseen within his view. But even so, here you kneeled before him, his gaze wholly fixated on a speck of dust such as yourself. If nothing else, you at least had your desperation — a desperation to be your own person. "My lineage may be from that of a baron's, but I am confident I can be of use to you if you would permit it. So long as you accept my offer, I will do anything to aid you, whether that be through practical means or a performance you wish to see."

A beat of silence.

"Ha... haha... ahahaha!!"

And, as if things couldn't get any worse than a sore rear and disgruntled self, you were pulled out of your daze by a pair of gleaming carmine eyes, a maniacal grin, and his body, now kneeled just like you were, so very close to your own.

"That determination... how brilliantly you burn with such an expression!" The sheer glee which bled through his tone sent shivers down your spine, having never realised someone so esteemed had such a side to him. The duke breathed a breathy laugh and slightly backed up, his hands still holding your arms. "Alright, I look forward to seeing how brightly you will shine in your performance, my dear leading actor."

...Was it too late to back out and find an alternative solution?

Admittedly so, for the next thing you knew vows were declared and you were moved into the duke's residence. You could still remember your family's aghast expressions the moment you declared you were marrying Duke Reca and thus cutting ties with them. It was oddly freeing to see their contorted faces reveal their true nature.

Life as the duke's spouse was... something, to say the least. His servants and attendants almost seemed to have shed tears of joy at the revelation of their ever so lonely duke (their words, not yours) finally settling down and getting married, asking you questions such as how you both met, what drew you to their duke, who popped the question first, why you chose him of all people, so on so forth. It was... cosy. Something you admittedly weren't very accustomed to, but found yourself welcoming nonetheless.

One thing you never expected was for the duke to have a little pet of his own; a little toad dressed in a miniature beret and matching suit, at that. Assistant Director is what Reca had called her, and you think for someone so obsessed with the arts he ought to up his naming sense. She was also quite susceptible to compliments, something you discovered when commenting on the little toad's cute attire, with the duke's baffling translation of her bashfulness and her own compliment on your own looks. Apparently. You're not really sure, but you're inclined to believe it ever since she claimed a spot on your shoulder.

As the days-turned-weeks-turned-months bled into each other, you found yourself oddly lost at how well-adapted you have become of your new life and the duke's personality. From impromptu displays of affection both in and outside the manor to sporadic radio silence on his end when wholly consumed by his fervent passion for a project, you sometimes wonder just how you're still alive with the amount of heart attacks the man has given you.

But despite his... eccentricities, to put it lightly, there are times where you can't quite put a finger on certain expressions he would make when he thinks you're not looking. They're unlike his (once again, to put it very lightly) passionate eyes when rambling to you during mealtimes about an upcoming performance the troupe has; unlike the sheer mania he can exude when something truly sparks his inspiration; unlike the playfully smug grin he would give you when swooping down in dramatic flair to press a long kiss to the back of your palm; unlike the rare darkening of his expression that you cannot help but stiffen at when something or someone in the troupe doesn't quite match his expectations.

No. These ones are... soft. A kind of tenderness and unprecedented longing able to be identified if scrutinised close enough. It was evident in the ghost-like touches he would trail along your skin, as though afraid just a little more force would do irreparable damage. It was evident in the attention to even the most minute details, having everything from clothing to food to the decor suited to preferences you yourself never realised you had. It was evident in the way unadulterated fondness leaked through his tone when his unique terms of affection for you slipped through his lips when all was silent and you were supposed to be asleep.

"My dearest star..."

...Much like now, it would seem.

The bed dips by where your knees slightly bend, hidden under the beige covers. A familiar musky scent surrounds you not long after, and you find yourself involuntarily relaxing at the comfort it brings as your head further burrows into the pillow.

You want to stay awake, even if it's just for a second longer, to hear what he has to say to your less than conscious state. But, oh, his fingers threading through your hair and softly massaging your scalp and the gentle touch of his forehead against yours and the subtle comforting warmth that rolls off his body in waves does little to help you fight the sleep which easily takes over.

Oh, whatever! You'll just try and catch what he has to say next time.

Eventually your breathing evens out, only soft snores now heard within the large shared bedroom. Upon noticing this, Reca cannot stop the fond smile which lifts the corners of his lips, nor can he prevent the softening of his eyes as he continues to gaze at your sleeping form.

"My dearest [Name]," he whispers into the dead of night. Even now, several months later, he still cannot believe his luck to have run into you in that alleyway. It must have been fate which made him heed its call, urging him he would discover something sure to escape that terrible slump plaguing him for weeks on end.

Sure enough, it brought him to something irreplaceable; something he has been searching desperately for.

You.

And, with the tenderest of kisses pressed to your forehead that would put even the most sickening romantics to shame, he murmurs words of promise against your skin, an oath he swears to uphold no matter the obstacles which stand before him.

"In this life, I will ensure you have only the best of endings."

if you enjoyed this, reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated <33

[nottsamor]

crawling back to you / theo nott

summary : theo knew you'd come crawling back to him, and it was apparent by the way he had you in his bed, a room away from your boyfriend.

a/n : does like.. anyone wanna be friends.

"what's wrong? you were begging for this two months ago," theo said, feigning innocence as he pounded into your roughly, hands gripping onto your hips. tears ran down your cheeks, mascara streaming down your face. "i h—hate you.." you sniffled, but both of you knew that wasn't true.

your boyfriend was right outside the dorm, having drinks with his friends because of the party that was hosted in the slytherin common room, and he was probably looking for you too, but imagine the look on his face when he would realise his girlfriend was in her ex's bed, letting him have his way with her.

you cried out as he pounded into you deeper. you wanted to reach out to touch him, but you couldn't—not with the tie that theo had wrapped around your wrists, which forbade you from moving.

"mon amour, tell me, does he fuck you like this? does he make you come like i do?" he laughed out darkly. "i mean, come on. you're in my bed, with me, once again. has to speak for something, right?" the bastard uttered cockily. the worst part was that you couldn't even deny, because what he was saying was true. theo fucked you way better then your boyfriend did.

"j—just shut up already," you huffed, trying to sound tough. but you couldn't, not by the way your voice was wavering. theo smirked, one of his hands grabbing onto your chin roughly, making you look at him.

"your in my bed, sweetheart. im fucking you, im not that ass boyfriend of yours who you can order around, got it?" he let go of your chin roughly, leaving a slap on the side of your face. "dumb bitch.." he muttered under his breath, as he stopped moving inside you.

you immediately cried out, "d—don't stop, please.. teddy, i need you so bad.." you pouted, sniffling. this caused theo to regain the smirk on his face, grabbing onto your hips once again as he continued his actions.

you were so easy.. so damn easy to please. you were addicted to him, he knew you'd come crawling back to him if he asked. that's what made him like you.

[queenendless]

💀🎃👻Spooky Greetings👻🎃💀

A/n: This literally came to mind when I saw something similar in the actual game event. First time posting twst content here. This may get a sequel. Gonna try to post variety spooky content here cause HAPPY OCTOBER YALL!

SPOILERS for the new Halloween game event going on, somewhat. Also, a bit of Skully x fem!reader and implied fem!reader x the twst bois shown/tagged down below. Short Harem drama, kinda. Not much. But I think it ain't half bad.

*DON'T STEAL, COPY, EDIT, REPOST AND TRANSLATE MY FANFIC WORK. REBLOG, LIKE, FOLLOW PLS N THNX.*

“Hello, my lovely~”

The moment this new strapping figure — “Skully J. Graves at your service~” — appeared holding you in his arms as you awoke, you were awestruck at the spooky strapping young man.

After introducing all of yourselves, watching him kiss the hand of your schoolmates was amusing; seeing their appalled expressions. Guessing they don't get that brand of greeting often, huh?

Him kissing Grim's cheek had his fur stand on end to your delight.

And yet?

The moment he took your hand — only to pull you in and kiss you smack dab on the lips?

You felt the fires of envy and hate turn ablaze as the various pairs of eyes glowed outrageously.

Many hands, gloved or not, snatched him off you.

And all hell broke loose.

“Get your grubby hands off my beloved, you cretin!” Riddle turned red even his paled up Gothic aesthetic; Trey holding the struggling boy back in his arms.

“He means MY herbivore, skeletal bastard.” Leona growled in Skully’s face as he grabbed his collar.

“On the contrary, MY angel isn't up for auction when it comes to kisses from mere worms.” Azul's irked smile gave off unpleasantness.

“Oho? That doesn't seem to be the case, surely.” Jade jested to his boss's ire.

“MY jewel’s already doing so, octo pimp. That goes for you too, street rat.” Jamil hissed them both back and forth.

“Have you no manners of consent, you mongrel? Besides, my darling Y/n has better taste than you all. Me, for example.” Vil flaunted in the others irked faces; Epel looked just about done at this point.

“Don't you dare take away my Otaku goddess, you noob!” Idia gripped dramatically to the others nuisance. 

“How dare you lay a finger on my beloved human.” Malleus spoke doom.

The air around them crackled with literal lightning as emerald flames had his hands full.

“My future Queen … prepare yourself … FOR HELL.”

“WAKA-SAMA!” Sebek switched to fanboy mode at his God's might.

“For once, we're on the same page.” Leona's smirk sent his way spoke volumes as he dropped Skully before the dragon prince.

“TSUNATARO, STAND DOWN! ALL OF YOU, PLEASE!” You got in the way to defend the new anime boy from the others' united wrath, especially Malleus's. “One kiss is not that big of a deal.”

You could hear a pin drop now as everyone, even Skully, viewed you as if you had two heads.

“Good grief. Ya sure you're not magical? Cause you're bewitching them into lovestruck fools. And you're not dating any of ‘em. God, you're an idiot.” Grim griped.

Leona, Jamil, and Sebek appeared as glowing eyed phantom monsters ready for the kill. “YOU'RE ONE TO TALK, FUR BALL!!!”

Yet Skully looked unperturbed, his charming toothed smile arised, as Grim got chased by three SSR dressed pissed off mages. “Oya oya … What a lively bunch, you all are. And all because I took a kiss from your sweet lips, lovely Y/n. But if you are single, then may I ask you out?”

“NO!!!” All the former overblot cases now turned bachelors for your token affections shouted in unison.

Trey, Jade and Epel and you hung your head in exasperation.

Ah, quite the Harem dilemma.

Halloween coated, no less.

[demonic0angel]

anger management meet cute:

"Would mind doing me a favor. I'm having the worst blind date. Could you help me end it by pretending to be my obsessive, crazy ex and scaring them off?"

Jason stared at the beautiful girl in front of him. She looked at him earnestly, quickly glancing backwards at the bathroom, presumably where her date had gone, leaving her alone at the dinner table.

He blinked. “How’re you not sure that he just ran off while in the bathroom?”

She cringed, with a small shiver of disgust. “I think he wants to bring me home first.”

Jason also cringed. Damn. He gave a sigh and then nodded. “Alright, I’ll step out of the place and when I see him coming back, I’ll come in and drive him off, okay?”

She beamed, a sigh of relief leaving her as she took his hand and squeezed it. “Thank you. I know we’ve never met before, but I appreciate you doing this for me.” Her smile was small, but genuine and breathtakingly beautiful. Her hand was cool in his, but he could only feel the heat spreading through him as he flushed. (Honestly, whoever that stupid fuck was who disrespected her deserved to die.)

“Uh. No problem. My name’s Jason.”

“Jazz,” she said with a beam. With that, he quickly exited the cafe, rubbing his chest where his heart was doing backflips and somersaults. This was like something straight out of a novel and his face felt hot. Still, he quickly calmed himself down and tried to pretend like it was a mission. He took glimpses every once in a while into the window, watching Jazz fidget and look nervous until he spotted a man leaving the bathroom area and approach her, sitting down at the table with a swagger.

He said something that Jazz seemed to laugh nervously at, and then he reached over to touch her hair.

Yep. Showtime.

Jason slammed the door open and burst into hysterical laughter.

“Hah! I fucking knew it! I knew you were with some worthless bastard!”

Jazz and her unwanted date jumped. “J-Jason!” She said, though her tone was a little too relieved. (She was too cute.) Thankfully, her date didn’t notice.

“W-What the—?!”

Jason unsheathed his gun with a furious smile. “Didn’t I tell you, Princess? I told you that if you tried to leave me, I’ll kill whoever looks at you and then I’ll kill you too.”

Jazz pursed her lips, but didn’t look scared. Jason catalogued that reaction and focused on what she was saying.

“Jason! Please— he’s not part of this. You don’t want to go back to jail, remember?”

“Who said I’m going back to jail?” Jason said, approaching the table while keeping the gun pointed towards her date. Everyone else scrambled away with some panic, but everyone knew that Gothamites were crazy when in love, so they just watched warily. “We’re dying together, gorgeous. ‘Til death do us part, right? After killing this bastard, you and I are going to hell together, Princess.”

Jazz then blushed and then looked at her date, mouthing, “Leave.” Then she turned to Jason and said in a soothing tone, “I’m sorry, Jay, I just… uh, I just wanted to test something out. I’m still with you, dearest. Just let him leave, okay? He didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, cocking his gun. “Tch. Fine. He better be gone in 3… 2…”

The man quickly scrambled away. Jason watched him run out of the cafe screaming like a little bitch, before he pocketed his gun and then sat down in the empty seat across from Jazz. He waved a waiter, who nearly bolted over to their table to get his order.

Jazz blinked. “You’re staying?”

“Of course, Princess,” he smirked at the way she ducked her head down with a heavy blush. “‘Til death do us part. I’ll pay for dinner this time.”

Everyone stared at Jazz with horror and bewilderment, but she just giggled and said, “Thank you, Jason. I’d really like that.”

[empresskylo]

can you make a fix of cod guys reaction to you getting into an argument with them, which causes us to flinch and cover our face from any impact because we had an abusive ex.

featuring Ghost, Price, Soap, Gaz, Konig, & Alejandro

⊹ cod men x gn!reader

[ warnings ] domestic violence implications

cod masterlist

Ghost

He’d run his hand through his hair if he didn’t have this bloody mask on. Ghost looked down at you, his eyes narrowing in and scrutinizing your every minute detail. You tried to glare back, but you were feeling rather small with the weight of his disappointed glower. 

“You’ve got t’be more careful,” his voice boomed, though he was trying to keep it at a normal level. 

“I know, I’m sorry—”

“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it when you get someone killed,” he growled, taking a step in, closing the space between the two of you. 

You stepped back on instinct and bumped into the wall—trapped. You suddenly felt trapped. You knew that logically he wouldn’t hurt you, but something about his pissed-off demeanor and towering frame triggered something in you. Your breathing increased exponentially and Ghost watched helplessly as your chest rose and fell in rapid beats.

A bit taken aback by your response, Ghost raised a hand to grab your shoulder and you turned your head and shied away. You let out a small gasp as if waiting for him to land a blow on you. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, the entire moment passing by excruciatingly slow. That’s when you knew you fucked up. Ghost dropped his hand and his fist clenched, putting everything together all at once. Something inside him broke seeing you look at him like that—with fear in your eyes. It fucking hurt.

“M’not gonna hurt you,” he said in a much softer tone than earlier. He’d never lay a hand on you, even out of love, if you didn’t want it.

You blinked rapidly, forcing yourself to look up at him, your face inflamed. “I-I know. I didn’t… I don’t know why…” The words got lost in your throat. You were so embarrassed. 

“Who?” He asked sharply.

You tilted your head, your hands squeezing at your sides. Ghost took a step back to give you room, though he wanted nothing more than to step into you closer, to pull you against him. He didn’t care how annoyed he was with you, all that drifted away, unimportant nonsense he’d come back to later.

“ Who… ?” You repeated.

“Who. Hurt. You?” He bent over slightly, aligning his face with yours as he talked, making sure you couldn’t turn your face away from him. 

“J-Just an ex-boyfriend. It’s not a big deal. I don’t know why I responded like that. I-I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Ghost sighed, his eyes dancing between yours. “No. I wouldn’t.” His voice was dark and deep again. “But I have nothin’ against hurtin’ that bastard.”

“Ghost, please.”

He straightened and rolled his shoulders, trying to suppress the bubbling anger. He looked down at you at last. “Can I touch you?” He asked softly.

You nodded, tears falling down your cheeks now. He tentatively took a step towards you and pulled you into his arms. He wrapped them securely around you and you nuzzled your face into his jacket. If he wasn’t so shocked over the way you responded to him, he’d be yelling at you to tell you who it was that hurt you so he could hunt them down. 

Instead, he clutched you close to him, trying not to think about the fear that crossed your eyes, even if it was momentarily. Even if it wasn’t because of him. He never wanted you to look at him like that again. Something rotten tugged at his heart as he felt you try to stifle your cries. Oh, he was definitely going to kill that bastard. And he was going to make it slow and painful.  

Price

You chased after Price as he made his way down the hall. “I swear I didn’t mean to—!”

He cut you off, spinning on his heels, making you bump into his chest and slam to a halt. “It doesn’t matter what you meant !” He yelled, losing his composure briefly. 

You flinched at his loud words, stepping away from him. It was a quick movement, a subtle tick of your face, your eyes squinted as you pulled your head away. You acted like this was something you were all too familiar with. 

Immediately Price’s anger shifted away from you and onto whatever bastard trained you to cower. 

His widened eyes traced your face and you slowly read his expression as he came to the realization of why you would flinch away from him when he shouted. You watched as several emotions crossed Price’s countenance. 

His voice was hushed as he edged closer to you, the deep baritone sending a shiver up your spine. “Y’don’t have t’tell me now,” his voice was so low as he spoke. “But you will tell me who, eventually.”

“John, I–”

He was always so gentle with you. But right now, the intense hatred for whoever this bastard was that harmed you, took over. He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Don’t wanna hear it, doll. You will tell me who did this to you if it’s the last thing I get out of you.”

A wave of heat crossed your cheeks, his eyes boring into yours. You nodded meekly and his face softened. “Com’ere,” he cooed, opening his arms. You stepped into them and were immediately surrounded in the warm comfort Price brought you, one hand rubbing circles on your back and the other sliding up into your hair, tucking your head under his chin. 

“S’your not mad at me, anymore?” Your words muffled by his body. 

You felt his chest rumble as he spoke. “Could never stay mad at you.”

Soap

“Blood hell,” Soap whined, annoyed with you for hiding the arm wound you got the other day. 

“It’s not as serious as it looks,” you tried to convince him, your lips quirking into a weak smile. 

He closed his eyes to collect his last remaining patience. “Not serious—” he repeated, his words rising in several octaves as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got twenty stitches in your arm! How the fuck is that not serious?!” 

He reached for your arm and you pulled it away, shuddering briefly from the brief touch of his fingertips. The two of you froze, his eyes darting to meet yours the second he saw the shift in your composure. 

“Gonna tell me why y’just did that?” He sat still in his seat, trying to steady his voice. 

“Did what?” You asked, attempting to play dumb, but the tears were already misting in your eyes. 

Soap sighed, his face dropping as he studied you. “Fuckin’ hell,” he said with displeasure. “You shoulda told me. I wouldn’t have—I woulda been more—” He lost his words, watching as a few stray tears fell down your cheeks. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said softly. His thumb came up to wipe the tears away, his hand then cupping the side of your cheek. “S’okay. M’not mad.” You leaned into his hand.. “Jus’ wish ya woulda told me.” You nodded and he gave you a weak smile. 

“Com’on, let’s get that bandage changed.” His voice was gentle as he coaxed you up, wrapping an arm protectively around you as he led you down to the infirmary. You would discuss this later. Right now, all he wanted was to make sure you felt safe in his arms.

Gaz

Gaz wouldn’t say he had anger issues… he just got passionate about the people he cared about, and sometimes that would come out in spurts of angry shouts. What he didn’t expect, was the way you reacted the first time he ever lost his cool in front of you. 

“I cannot fuckin’ believe Shepherd,” he growled. 

“Maybe we should just focus on the positive,” you said meekly, trying to help calm Gaz down.  

“Yeah? And what fuckin’ positive is that?!” He shouted as he paced back and forth. He regretted it the moment it left his lips. 

You squeezed your eyes shut at his words and brought your hands up for the briefest of seconds to cover your face. 

Gaz whispered your name and you instantly tried to compose yourself. You straightened and gave an awkward smile.

“That wasn’t at you,” he corrected, his eyes deflating as he watched you. “I-I’m sorry. I’d never hurt you,” he said wistfully, running his hand over his hair and cursing. He looked at you completely differently than he had just moments earlier. His entire demeanor shifted. He was suddenly staring at you with such intensity it made something well in your eyes. 

“No, Gaz. It’s not you.” That was the last sentence you could get out before the tears escaped. You quickly wiped them away and Gaz stepped towards you, resting both hands on either one of your shoulders. 

“Hey,” he said calmly. 

You gave him a sideways smile. “It’s just…” you tried to get the words out but they slipped away.

“S’alright. You don’t have to tell me.” His hands slid down your arms, giving you a squeeze before releasing you. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

You gave a small laugh. “I know that, Gaz.”

“Good.” He pulled you into his chest without asking, all his anger from earlier transforming into gentleness. “You can tell me when you’re ready,” he said into your hair. 

You nodded. “Thank you.” He held you a bit tighter and you closed your eyes in peace. You never wanted him to let go. 

König

He was frustrated with the way you were angry at him for insisting he do this mission alone. “You’re gonna get yourself killed!” You argued.

He had enough. He didn’t lose his temper often, but there was no way Konig was allowing you to come on a mission quite this dangerous. He pushed up from his chair, the table in front of him shaking as he did. 

He was a big guy, and you knew that, but the way he quickly took up the space of the room amazed you. “Verfickte Hurerei!” Fucking hell! he shouted. “Why are you pressing this so hard?!” He gestured towards you, his fists clenched and you winced. You cowered away, surprising even yourself with your actions. 

Konig watched you through his rapid blinking, dumbfounded by what just happened. It took him a second to process.

“Liebling?” He asked his voice back to its usual tone. “I wasn’t going to— fuck . I’m sorry.” A pang of guilt coursed through him. You thought he was going to hit you? Jesus Christ. He wanted to reach out to you but he refrained, knowing that might make things worse. 

“Konig,” you whispered and his eyes snapped to yours. He tilted his head, studying you as you regained your composure. “S’not you.” Your words were so faint it hurt his heart a little. 

He watched as you wiped away a stray tear. Your body had shifted back to how things used to be. Before Konig. 

Your lip quivered and you felt so small and embarrassed. Konig mouthed your name breathlessly and you blinked away tears before closing the distance between the two of you. You practically fell into his arms and he tightened them on you instinctively. 

“You okay, liebling?” He cooed, his hand stroking your hair. 

You nodded. “M’sorry.”

He pulled back so you had to tilt your chin and look up at him. “Don’t apologize.” His hand came up and stroked your cheek. 

“It’s not you,” you tried to reassure again, worried Konig was going to eat himself alive thinking you were afraid of him. 

“I know.” Your lips pinched together and Konig pulled you back into him. “You’re safe. You’ll always be safe with me.”

You felt tears fall; not out of terrible memories, but out of the love you felt radiating off of Konig. 

Alejandro

“Jesus, would you just listen to me?” You shouted. 

“Listen to you?! You haven’t heard a fucking thing I’ve been saying!” He yelled back. His accent was always heavier on his words when he was mad. 

He took a big step towards you, his knife still in his hand, covered in blood. You flinched when he approached so suddenly. His dark words and his fast movements made you duck in fear. 

Alejandro paused all his movements, startled by your reaction. “Jesus,” he mumbled, sheathing his knife and holding his hands up. “I wouldn’t hurt you, mi amor.” He shook his head in frustration with himself. His jaw clenched as he watched you look back up at him. How awful he felt seeing your beautiful features shrouded in fear. 

“I…” you swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. The yelling… I don’t know. It just made me think back to…”

Something inside Alejandro shifted at your faint words. “Mataré a ese bastardo,” I’ll kill that bastard , he growled. “Who was it? Who fuckin’ touched you?” 

You shook your head. “Alejandro, please. It was so long ago.”

He clenched his fist, his other hand coming up to the scruff on his jaw. He closed his eyes to try and contain himself. When he opened them, you could still see the darkness lingering behind them. “I don’t care how long ago it was, mi amor. I need you to tell me who it was.”

You frowned and he closed his eyes again before walking up to you and pulling you into his arms. “God. I swear I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”

You let out the softest of giggles at how dramatic he could be. But still, you felt so safe knowing he would go to the ends of the world to protect you. You felt him kiss the top of your head, mumbling something about being sorry for yelling. 

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 49🚨

He had just been crowned the khagan's Heir. With Nesryn as his potential bride. Potential, to Aelin's amusement, because Nesryn herself wasn't so keen on being empress of the mightiest empire in the world.

But what Sartaq had said— Elide blurted, "You mean to not go to Terrasen?" Aelin kept still, her fingers curling at her sides.

"Terrasen needs aid," Rowan said, his face the portrait of steely calm as he surveyed their new allies and old friends.

"And yet Terrasen has not called for it," Hasar countered, utterly unfazed by the wall of Fae warriors glowering at her. Exactly the sort of person Aelin had hoped she'd be when she wrote to her all those months ago.

Chaol cleared his throat. Gods above, Chaol was walking again. And married to Yrene Towers, who had healed him.

A thread in a tapestry. That's what it had felt like the night she'd left the gold for Yrene in Innish. Like pulling a thread in a tapestry, and seeing just how far and wide it went.

All the way to the southern continent, it seemed. And it had rippled back with an army and a healed, happy friend. Or as happy as any of them might be at the moment.

Aelin glanced sidelong to Rowan. Found him already staring at her. We'll convince them to go to Terrasen, her mate said silently.

"It's back," he panted, gaping at Nesryn. "For days now, I swore I felt something, noted changes, but today it just all came back."

Nesyn angled her head, her curtain of dark hair sliding over an armored shoulder. "Who…"

Borte squeezed the young man's arm. "Falkan. It's Falkan, Nesryn." Prince Sartaq stalked to Nesryn's side, graceful as any Fae warrior. "How." But the young man had turned toward Aelin, eyes narrowing. As if trying to place her.

Then he said, "The assassin from the market in Xandria."

Aelin arched a brow. "Hopefully, the horse I stole didn't belong to you." A cough from Fenrys. Aelin threw the warrior a grin over her shoulder.

"I was always young," Falkan muttered. "I just didn't look it." His gray eyes again found Aelin's. "I gave you a piece of Spidersilk."

For a heartbeat, the then and the now blended and wobbled. "The merchant," Aelin murmured. She'd last seen him in the Red Desert-looking twenty years older. "You sold your youth to a stygian spider."

"You two know each other?" Nesryn gaped.

"The threads of fate weave together in strange ways," Falkan said, then smiled at Aelin. "I never got your name."

Hasar chuckled from the other side of the desk. "You already know it, shifter."

Before Falkan could figure it out, Fenrys stepped forward. "Shifter?"

But Nesryn said, "And Lysandra's uncle." Aelin slumped into the chair beside Chaol's.

Rowan laid a hand on her shoulder, and when she looked up, she found him near laughter.

"What's so funny, exactly?" she hissed.

Rowan smirked. "That for once, you are the one who gets knocked on your ass by a surprise."

Aelin stuck out her tongue. Borte grinned, and Aelin winked at the girl.

But Falkan said to Aelin and her companions, "You know my niece."

"Lysandra is my friend, and Lady of Caraverre," Aelin said. "She is not with us," she added upon Falkan's hopeful glance toward the tent flaps. "She's in the North."

Not their considerable beauty, but their size, their pointed ears, their weapons and elongated canines. Aelin whispered conspiratorially to the girl, "Make them roll over before you offer them a treat."

Lorcan glared, but Fenrys shifted in a flash, the enormous white wolf filling the space.

Hasar swore, Sartag backing away a step, but Borte beamed. "You are all truly Fae, then." Gavriel, ever the gallant knight, sketched a bow. Lorcan, the bastard, just crossed his arms.

Yet Rowan smiled at Borte. "Indeed we are."

Borte whirled to Aelin. "Then you are Aelin Galathynius. You look just how Nesryn said." Aelin grinned at Nesryn, the woman leaning against Sartaq's side. "I hope you only said horrible things about me."

"Only the worst," Nesryn said with dead flatness, though her mouth twitched.

But Falkan whispered, "The queen," and fell to his knees.

Hasar laughed. "He never showed that sort of awe when he met us."

Sartaq lifted his brows. "You told him to turn into a rat and scuttle away."

Aelin hoisted up Falkan by the shoulder. "I can't have my friend's uncle kneeling on the ground, can I?"

"You said you were an assassin." Falkan's eyes were so wide the whites around them gleamed. "You stole horses from the Lord of Xandria—"

"Yes, yes," Aelin said, waving a hand. "It's a long story, and we're in the middle of a war council, so..."

"Piss off?" Falkan finished

Aelin laughed, but glanced to Nesryn and Sartaq. The former jerked her chin to Falkan. "He's become our spy of sorts. He joins us in these meetings." Aelin nodded, then winked at the shifter. "I suppose you didn't need me to slay that stygian spider after all."

But Falkan tensed, his attention going to Nesryn and Sartaq, to Borte, still gawking at the Fae males. "Do they know?"

Aelin had a feeling she'd need to sit down again. Chaol indeed patted the chair beside him, earning a chuckle from Yrene. Doing herself a favor, Aelin indeed sat, Rowan taking up his place behind her, both of his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. His thumb ran along the nape of her neck, then drifted over the mating marks again scarring one side thanks to the seawater they'd used to seal them. But as her muscles soothed beneath that loving touch, her soul with it, her breath remained tight.

It didn't get any better when Nesryn said, "The stygian spiders are Valg."

Silence.

"We encountered their kin, the kharankui, deep in the Dagul Fells. They came into this world through a temporary crack between realms, and remained afterward to guard the entrance, should it ever reappear."

"This cannot end well," Fenrys muttered. Elide hummed her agreement.

"They feed on dreams and years and life," Falkan said, a hand on his own chest. "As my friends have said the Valg do."

Aelin had seen Valg princes drain a human of every last drop of youth and vigor and leave only a dried corpse behind. She wouldn't put it past the spiders to have a similar gift.

"What does this mean for the war?" Rowan asked, his thumbs still stroking Aelin's neck.

"Will they join Erawan's forces is the better question," Lorcan challenged with a face like stone.

"They do not answer to Erawan," Nesryn said quietly, and Aelin knew. Knew from the look Chaol gave her, the sympathy and fear, knew in her bones before Nesryn even finished.

"The stygian spiders, the kharankui, answer to their Valg queen. The only Valg queen. To Maeve."

[yourtypicalhuman09]

Beyond The Bat

(Neglected reader x Yandere batfam)

Chapter 1: In The Shadows

TW!!! Cursing !!Dark AU!!

Living in the Wayne manor isn't the sweet luxurious dream you'd think it'd be, reality is in fact much crueler. For as long as I could remember I had lived in this dreary mansion, but lived isn't the word I'd use. I was more trapped here if anything. My "family", if I could even call them that, are well respected people. They're highly skilled and talented people, someone like me could only dream to be like them. I tried so hard to get close to them, I really did try, but no matter what I did nothing worked. I did everything, gymnastics, martial arts, theater, art, music, coding, dance, volleyball, cheerleading, heck I was even in the honors society. Despite being an A+ student and a role model in high society they never once went to any of my recitals, games, or showcases. I went to galas all alone, I had to deal with the sneering faces and snide remarks of high class men and woman alone since I was 8. Not very safe for a child huh? I didn't think so either but my "father" doesn't seem to care.

Nevertheless, I have no choice in this matter and it's not like life here is unbearable. Sure I get beatings and tongue lashings every now and then, but for the most part everyone in the manor tends to forget me eventually and leave me alone. It's pretty isolating but I got used to it, after all I have duties to perform. I have my job as Student council president and I don't intend to slack off. I got that job with my own blood sweat and tears and I will not let all those sleepless nights go to waste. I don't have time to wallow in self pity I have countless of students looking up to me and counting on me to do my job.

"Young master, are you okay? You seem to be staring off into space."

I looked up to our old butler, his face jaded and littered with wrinkles that seemed to contort pathetically in worry. I knew better than to accept his pity. He seems to be a wise gentle man on the outside with his elegant wardrobe, worn old body, and soft spoken demeanor, but do not be fooled. In truth, Alfred Pennyworth was a foolish coward. This was the same man who abandoned his own daughter just like my idiot of a father. I gave him a chance, but nothing's been the same since the day he accidentally called me Julia. I was nothing but a stand in for him, someone to relieve his guilt with.

"I'm fine. Don't you have something better to do? I'm sure Bruce has some kind of task for you, no need to bother yourself with my problems"

"...Very well then...Take care of yourself young master."

He clearly had something more to say but he decided to do nothing and walk away. Like I said he's a coward. Still I'm not new to disappointment, whether it's the disappointment of missed birthdays or the way they all see me as the disappointment, it's nothing I haven't experienced before. I quickly packed up my things and headed to school. Sure riding to school on an old worn out bike isn't exactly ideal, but I have to deal with what I have. Although, I do have to take some back alleys to school since I don't want anyone seeing and starting a scandal. I can already see the blaring headlines, "Daughter of Gotham's richest man caught riding to school on a beat up bicycle!". What a bunch of nosy bastards.

"Good mornin' (Y/N)!"

I turned to face the sunny senior calling my name, his unadulterated joy making him stand out in the crowd of groggy gothamites.

"Good morning Cyrus."

My crisp responses never seems to deter the boy as he continues to walk beside me chattering endlessly.

"(Y/N) I got things you asked! It's super cool what you're doing for the school, I'm so happy I get to be apart of it! If you ever need help with anything please do ask me!"

I sighed, his joyful energy was contagious. I couldn't help but crack a smile. Though it quickly disappeared as I regained my composure, but obviously not fast enough since Cyrus' joy seems to only be growing.

"Ahhhhh (Y/N) just smiled! I made the student president smile! I'm so sigma"

Here he goes again with those weird words and that cocky grin. I sighed once again, I'm too tired for this.

"Yes thank you Cyrus get to class now, I'll pick up the things I asked for after school."

"Yes ma'am!"

I watched as he playfully saluted and ran to class almost bumping into several people along the way. I facepalmed, he was such a handful but strangely I don't really mind. It's probably the lack of sleep I'll make sure to go to bed early today, for now I have to get to class myself.

Author's note: Omg chapter one is finally out! This took me a lot longer than expected but I hope it's good I went through a tiny writer's block😅. I hope you guys like Cyrus I tried to make him a silly and sunny character but trust me he'll have lore and be a much deeper character. I also tried making (Y/N)'s backstory pretty vague since they're the narrator and I figured they wouldn't like talking about it, but their lore will be revealed more throughout future chapters. Anyways as always thank you all for reading and have a good day/night!

Credits to khaer for the dividers

@simpingpandas @rosalietodd013 @sirenetheblogger @cim0nnin @00hellohello00 @crazycaoticsimp @lovebug-apple @youdontknowshtaboutfk

[bi-writes]

the knock at his door is a ferocious one. it rattles the hinges, shakes the doorway. it is not a kind knock. it is the knock of anger, of impending terror, of death at his door, but he knows that if he doesn't answer, he will be even more sorry. (ghoap x curvy!fem!reader, 18+, smidge of dark)

johnny isn't happy. he yanks the door open, glaring, knowing who is on the other side. his superior, his lieutenant, the fucking tart that started this whole thing in the first place, the bastard that stands a few inches too tall, is that what she sees in him, too tall, is that much bigger than me, the fucking--

"dinnae want t'talk to ye, ye fuckin'--"

"'f y'know wot's fuckin' good f'ya, you'll shut y'r fuckin' mouth," ghost snaps. his accent is thick and gravelly. he moves over the threshold, pushing johnny back, his eyes dulling over as he presses an accusing finger against johnny's chest. "y'r gonna pick up the bloody phone, 'n y'r gonna call 'er."

"she's a right--"

ghost hisses, a heady growl coming out roughly as he grips johnny around the throat and slams him against the nearest wall. the entirety of it shakes, and the pictures there nearly fall, and johnny chokes as he tries to scramble, but ghost is too strong, too rough, too overpowering. there is something behind his movements, some purpose, and it makes something acidic bubble in johnny's throat.

"don't you fuckin' dare finish that sentence," ghost snarls. "don't care wot it is y'think y'feel, do y'really wanna have tha' on your conscious, y'fuckin' bastard, yeah? want her t'know tha' is the last thing y'called her?"

johnny sputters. he's gasping for air, but it's hard, and his eyes water. even though johnny hates him, even though he loathes the man he used to admire, he knows ghost is right. his lip trembles. it wouldn't be right to say it, it wouldn't be right to call you anything other than what you are, and that is beautiful, bonnie, the stars in the sky and the water in the soil and the dream he always has but cannot remember but one he knows is all he wants and more.

"ye took 'er from me," johnny gasps. "took her from me, and she's all i've ever wanted..."

"took nothin' from ya. now call 'er," ghost growls. "pick up the phone, and y'call her. she's hysterical. 'n i won't 'av it."

"ye won't 'av it? fuck off with ye!"

ghost tilts his head to the side, using his forearm now and pinning johnny to the wall. they meet eyes, and even though johnny pulls a brave face, he is staring at a man who clawed his way out of his grave. a man that endured days of torture and inexplicable horror, that knew the taste of his own blood from another's. johnny is strong-willed, but this is a battle he will not win.

"won't tell ya again," ghost mutters. "i mean tha'."

johnny's tired. he loathes. he hates. he feels sick. he wants to claw and kill and blow something up, but then ghost is letting him go, he's taking in full breaths, and there's a voice in his ear suddenly, an unfamiliar sound of a beautiful voice that he knows. she's crying.

"johnny? j-johnny, i-is that you?"

"mmmph," he coughs. "mmm..."

even riddled with sadness, you sound as pretty as always.

"johnny, i'm sorry," you whimper. he can picture your face, probably a gorgeous pout, tears gathering along your cheeks that normally are from the brunt of his cock, but now they're the proper response from your panic. "johnny, i'm...i'm so sorry--"

"'s..." he hums. "'s a'right, lovey. shhh. quiet."

"johnny, please--please come home, i-i...i can't stand this, i don't want to...i-i--"

"told ye to quiet," he murmurs. "quiet."

and you do, but he knows there's tears, he knows you're probably still there on the other side, your cries muffled into your hand. you probably still look so beautiful, probably sitting there in one of his jackets and nothing else, perched on the bed he shares with you and looking like an entire meal.

"ye lied to me, bonnie," johnny tuts, and ghost steps closer, into his space. watch it, his eyes say, and johnny glares. "why did ye lie?"

you whine, "i didn't know what to say...i...i just thought--"

"ye thought what?" johnny prods. "ye thought i would nae find out about it all? what did ye think, what the bloody fuckin' hell did ye--"

ghost walks forward, enough that johnny is pressed flat against the wall. ghost leans down, tilting his head, close enough that he feels the warmth of johnny's breath as they stare down each other.

"say y'love 'er, johnny," ghost mumbles in his ear. he comes closer, one thick thigh fitting between johnny's legs. "say it."

johnny swallows. "i love ye, bonnie."

a quiet whine, and then your soft voice, "i-i love you so much, johnny--"

"say y'want her, johnny," ghost encourages him, in that low voice that is starting to make johnny's head a little lighter.

"i miss ye," johnny whispers. "sorry for not having me head on right, love..." he hisses when ghost pinches him. "ahh--i want ye. want yer bonnie face...yer bonnie cunt...got to know it. got to know how much i want ye."

ghost shuts his eyes when he hears your breaths. desperate, a little emotional, that beautiful lilt that drew him in the first time.

"tell 'er ye want to eat 'er, johnny," ghost hums. "tell 'er she tastes like sweets." ghost comes closer, his pelvis against johnny's, and there is no space between them. johnny's blue eyes are bright, pupils dilated, and when ghost opens his eyes, they stare at each other, some kind of understanding that they have never had before.

they've been to the same place. they've seen the same eden. the love of the same woman, the taste of the same forbidden fruit, the kind of thing that men like them dream of having but give up for the sake of their sanity--

"want to eat ye, love..." johnny sighs, and his eyes flutter when ghost reaches up and smooths a gloved hand along his throat. his adam's apple bobs, he is so alive, and ghost tuts lowly as he speaks. "taste so good...think about it all the time...about getting under yer skirt," he sighs deeply when ghost's hand moves lower, against his chest, "cum so nice, bonnie, when ye sit on m'face..."

"j-johnny--" ghost grits his teeth when he hears you. pretty baby girl, probably squeezing your thick thighs together, maybe leaning over to show off your soft hips to no one in particular, tits pressed together because your hand is drifting low and circling against you because he knows you probably aren't wearing any fucking knickers, "anything for you, baby...you know i would, you know i'd do anything..."

"i know, my pretty," johnny coos. "will ye wait for me? will ye wait before ye get ahead of yerself, love? ye will, yer a good girl..."

"y-yes--" you whine. "y-yes, i'll wait for you...please come back...please--"

"should i bring back yer keeper?" johnny asks. blue eyes on dark ones, the look of a thousand words, the look of newness, of acceptance, of the power of two being so much greater than one.

two gloved fingers make their way down his throat. petting johnny's pink tongue, stuffing him full, reminding him of his place, where he truly is, where he belongs and where he is always meant to be. he relaxes his throat, and ghost snarls, satisfied, when johnny takes the girth of it easily. he touches the back of johnny's throat, and ghost's eyes flash when he hears your sweet voice on the other end.

"simon...i know you're there. be nice. or we won't get to play."

[brittle-doughie]

Britttlleeee

Since your hc for Y/N Cookie is that they lost a partner long ago in the storyline's you create. Which I love btw. Do you think the Beasts would exploit this or use this in some way to try and sway Y/N Cookie to join/be with them? They've been through a lot and appear to have little to no therapy. So I could see the Beasts taking advantage of this vulnerability.

The Fool (Shadow Milk Cookie)

Oof, the decease spouse multiplier?

It’s going to be Shadow Milk’s doing, he’s the one most suited for trickery and striking you while you’re at your most vulnerable state of mind.

The mist envelopes you, the shouts of PV and WL calling out to you slowly fade away as you look all around, trying to answer them but never seeming to get a response back. You ready your weapon, you were not letting anything this Beast says or does get to you.

???: “Hello…?”

You gasped as your pupils shrunk, heading perking up as you looked around the place.

That voice, it couldn’t be….

???: “My beloved, are you there…?”

No way…she/he was dead….

???: “Oh, how I missed you so much…”

SVTFOE, anyone? Feels bad about the finale though. Just picture it being a puppet of the spouse cookie, you get the idea.

You saw her/him, a puppet of your lost flame, alive and well….all the fight in you suddenly extinguishes as you drop your weapon, your hand shaking as emotions rise.

You: “H-hey….”

Spouse Cookie: “Bless the witches that you’re here with me at last….”

You: “I thought I’d never see you again…but what are you doing here? It’s not safe, let me take you somewhere safe first!”

Spouse Cookie: “It’s okay. We are with each other again, that’s all that matters now…”

You: “B-but, I…”

Spouse Cookie: “Isn’t this why you pulled through for so many years? To be with me again…?”

You: “I…I never gave up on you. So many times, I thought if I had just let you go, it would’ve been for the best. But that little part of me j-just couldn’t. A p-part of me w-wanted to maintain hope that y-you…*sniffle*”

Spouse Cookie: “My cherished, please do not cry. Why are you crying? I’m here now, please come into my arms…”

You didn’t hesitate and ran into his/her arms as you weeped silently. All the memories, the trading words of love to one another, you missed it. All of it.

You: “I-I love you…..”

Spouse Cookie: “It’s okay, I love you too, my sweetest cookie….”

You kept hugging her, unaware that her the puppet’s hold was getting tighter around you, her hands gripping your form more firmly, almost in a death grip….

You kept hugging…though, you furrow your eyebrows when you hear something distant in the mist, it sounded like…voices..?

???: “….Y/N….don’t….trust….!”

You listen more intently, was that…Pure Vanilla Cookie?

Pure Vanilla Cookie: “Shadow…Milk….tricks…your head…!”

You pieced together his words and gasped, but by then, it was already too late….

Spouse Cookie: “My dearest lover, what is the problem? Always know that I will take care of it…”

That last part was a malicious croak as you hesitantly look up to face your love(?)

The strings, the segmented limbs, hollow eyes and grin that harbor many blue colored eyes staring right back at you….

This was NOT your love….

It was a bastardization of him/her….

By the Beast….Shadow Milk Cookie…

False Spouse Cookie: “I love you, Y/N Cookie. And I’m never LETTING YOU GO!”

The puppet held onto you even tighter and started to rapidly drag you into the corrupted forest as you cry out in fear and despair!

False Spouse Cookie: “Don’t be so scared, ya silly willy! Just think about how happy you’ll be full of deceit and chaos! How happy you and him/her will be! Well, as best as I can imitate him/her at least!”

Shadow Milk Cookie wasn’t even trying to keep up the facade anymore, his voice coming through the puppet instead.

False Spouse Cookie: “THIS IS IT! LET ME INTO YOUR MIND AND DROWN IN DECEIT-WHAT?!”

You were suddenly dropped to the ground, rolling forward a bit before coming to a stop. You hastily get up to see the puppet dangling on only one string, the rest of the body limp.

False Spouse Cookie: “Hey, watch the puppet! Do you have any idea how long it took me to get it right?!”

Gingerbrave: “Y/N Cookie, are you okay?! That was quite the fall.”

Yeah, you told him you were alright. You soon see that he didn’t come alone as Pure Vanilla and White Lily Cookie had come to you, White Lily tending to your side.

Pure Vanilla Cookie: “We have made it just in time. I am glad you are alright, Y/N Cookie.”

White Lily Cookie: “They’re shaking. They’ve been..disturbed….”

Shadow Milk’s puppet was soon replaced by the Beast himself, who was anything but happy.

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Why do you PESTS always meddle in my script?! It was simple enough, I win Y/N’s mind over and I get to taint them with deceit to become a deliverer of deceit and lies! This was not how this was supposed to go!”

White Lily Cookie: “Leave them alone! You’ve already done too much damage to them! You’ll have to go through us to get them first!”

Pure Vanilla Cookie: “So true. We won’t let you bring further torment to them!”

Gingerbrave: “Yeah, Y/N Cookie is our friend and if you mess with them, you mess with all of us!”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Fine! Have it your way! I’ll get my hands on them in the end! Just you wait!”

You were curled up near a tree as the cookies fought, shaking with a thousand yard stare.

Was it..all a lie? He talked just like your partner, behaved just like them….

What was even true about that anymore….

[lovelynim]

Kremnoan words

Honkai: Star Rail - Mydei x Phainon

A/N: Just before I started pulling for Mydei's LC and banner, I said: "if I lose my 50/50, I'm writing lee!mydei, if I win, it's lee!phainon".

This blonde bastard took me 100+ pulls to get him, so now he is paying for it

Also, kudos to @/otomiyaa and @/dokidoki-muffin for helping me come up with the plot behind this fic!

Summary: There isn't a kremnoan word for 'fear', 'retreat' or 'romance', but is there one for 'tickling'? Well...

Word count: 2179 words

[Also on Ao3]

“So, what was all that noise from your room yesterday?” Mydei asked bluntly and directly, making Dan Heng choke on his drink and Caelus freeze on the spot. They couldn’t tell if he was annoyed, lacking sleep or just wearing his naturally intimidating facade, but it would be better to not push their luck. Again. “I could hear it from across the bath house.”

“W-what?” Caelus gasped sheepishly, trying to sneak a glance at Dan Heng in the hopes of catching a hint or two of what he should say next. “I don’t- no, I mean, c-can you be more specific?”

Mydei frowned, making Caelus flinch with just a look. “The rustling and stomping noises. What were those? Were you two fighting among yourselves in the departure hour?”

Oh.

Oh.

Dan Heng sighed, wiping the drink off the corner of his lips while Caelus let out a nervous chuckle. It wasn’t as bad as he thought, after all, just a small nuisance. “Oh, that, hahah… ahm, we were just fooling around, I guess?”

Mydei didn’t seem convinced as he arched an eyebrow and looked over Caelus’ figure to check the other man’s reaction. “Fooling? What kind of foolery makes so much noise?” He scoffed, but couldn’t deny the pinch of curiosity inside of his chest that made him want to pry into Okhema’s guests' privacy a little more.

“J-just playing!” Caelus chirped, hoping to suffice and ease Mydei’s curiosity this time, “I tickled Dan Heng and he tried to run, so I chased him and we kin-”

He couldn’t really be bothered by the story, it wasn’t like he actually cared about any of it. While he was just planning to let it go at that point, one word in particular captured Mydei’s attention again. “What’s that?” Mydei interrupted, his facade relaxing and turning into a genuinely curious one. “T-ticouded? Tic-tick- what?”

This wasn’t the first time that Mydei came across a word he didn’t know. The kremnoan and okheman languages weren’t so similar, Caelus and Dan Heng also had a whole glossary of their own that neither he nor the other heirs could understand some times. That word, however, had a sense of familiarity in it - as if he had heard it before somewhere, but he was still unable to picture or figure it out.

“Hm? ‘Tickled’? You don’t know what that is?” Caelus cocked his head to the side, leaving the previous topic to dust and quickly shifting to the new one. Mydei nodded at his question.

“What does it mean?”

“It’s, uhh…” Caelus looked over to Dan Heng again, as if checking his morality compass before deciding the tone of his answer. Dan Heng would probably give it a short, but honest answer, and would most likely suggest that Caelus did the same. Still, that was Caelus being asked, not Dan Heng. “Tickling like… fighting, but with no weapons. Like, with your just fists, you know?”

Dan Heng slapped his hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief. Mydei, however, raised his eyebrows with realization dawning on him. “Ah, I see,” he hummed pleased, “so it’s some kind of battle?”

Caelus smiled, mostly from the excitement of having successfully tricked Mydei. “Yes, you can put it like that, but you don’t ‘tickle’ someone to hurt them. Like, I tickle Dan Heng all the time and he is still in one piece!”

“Caelus!” Dan Heng gasped, a faint blush spreading over his cheeks when he was dragged back into the topic.

“What, I’m not lying, right? It’s not like I’m hurting you when I tickle you.”

“Fight, but with no intent to harm?” Mydei repeated to himself while the couple went on with their bickering. As he tried to wrap his mind around this new concept, some other episodes from his stay in Okhema started to make sense.

There was, indeed, no kremnoan word for a thing like this. Fighting was taken very seriously in Castrum Kremnos, from their elders and rulers to their students and offsprings, a ‘play-fight’ would never be considered a thing. Mydei nodded to himself, guessing this was just another senseless costume, but content to be able to understand it.

…………

Two days later, that conversation wasn’t anything more than a single memory lingering in the back of Mydei’s head. Right now, as a matter of fact, he had just a single thought in there: best Phainon in each and every way possible.

It was hard to tell what sparked the flames of competition between the two of them this time - it could be related to fighting off the titankin, escorting some scholars or just buying groceries faster than the other -, but it was clear that they were stuck at their usual dilemma: a tie.

“I expected more from you, deliverer,” Mydei boasted, keeping his chin up high as he strolled through the bath house, making his way to the heroes’ bath. “You barely put up the challenge this time.”

Phainon giggled, shaking his head. “If I tried any harder, I wouldn’t be able to see you think you stood a chance,” he picked up his pace, trying to get at least one step ahead Mydei while pressing his shoulder against Mydei’s.

“You’re worse as a liar than as a loser, deliverer,” Mydei gritted his teeth, pushing back with a little more strength, almost enough to throw Phainon into the waters of the nearby bath. “You say that when you’re clearly worn out, admit it.”

“Hahah, you didn’t get to see me worn out yet, Mydei ~” Phainon smiled, letting Mydei take the lead and following him soon after, “should we decide the victor through another match? That is, if you’re still able to have another one.”

“Fool, it’s me you’re talking about,” Mydei chuckled, locking his eyes with Phainon’s as they stood on the platform to head up to the heirs’ private bath. “Name it and I will best you under your own terms.”

Phainon couldn’t help but grin, standing just before Mydei. He took his hand to his own chin, pretending to contemplate on something. “Hmm, shouldn’t you pick it this time?”, he suggested, the platform reaching the upper floors with a gentle thud. “I’m feeling nice today, I’ll even let you pick if you promise to not make a fuss over it when you lose.”

“HKS…” Mydei hissed, dropping a plate of his armor as he prepared to get into the water.

Aglaea already scolded them once for using the baths in their matches, so it shouldn’t be a good idea to do anything related to the water and its properties again. Mydei also knew he shouldn’t be drawing his weapon against Phainon there, so a clash of might would not be recommended as well.

Ignoring the noise from Phainon’s rambling, probably trying to tease him for taking too long to think, an idea suddenly came up to Mydei’s head - one that wouldn’t require weapons or a different terrain. In fact, they could probably get to it right now and then if he remembered the details correctly.

“Deliverer,” Mydei called, his back resting against the bath’s edge while he wore a confident, commanding smirk on his lips. “I challenge you to a tickle, then, right here and now.”

“...A w-what?” Phainon scoffed, faking a cough as he tried to hide his reaction and compose himself. What was up with that pronunciation, anyway? “You mean, like, a… a tickle fight or..?”

“Don’t play an even bigger fool, deliverer,” he hissed, frowning while the response was far from what he expected, “you know what I mean, a tickle.” Mydei pouted slightly, biting the inner side of his cheeks.

“R-right, it’s just- aha, I didn’t expect you to suggest it… do you even know what it is or..?”

“HKS!” Mydei interrupted, covering any uncertainty with his overwhelming presence, “do you take me for a moron? Why wouldn’t I know what a tickle is?” He boasted, making Phainon quickly bring his hands out of the water to wave them in front of his chest.

“S-sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Phainon spoke in a rush, trying to calm the raging beast before him. Once Mydei had settled back into his corner of the bath, Phainon moved closer, noticing how wary the kremnoan was. “Let’s… take turns, then,” he suggested, knowing it wouldn’t be of any good to try to correct whatever concept of tickling Mydei had up in his head right now.

“Turns?” Mydei repeated, arching his eyebrows. ‘You can take turns during a tickle?’, he wanted to ask, but of course he wouldn’t voice such a thing. Phainon simply nodded.

“Yes, yes… just so we can settle it without making too much of a scene,” Phainon hummed playfully, already sitting by Mydei’s side, “we keep going until the other taps out, then whoever lasts the longest wins. Good?”

“Hm,” Mydei nodded, confused. With the current idea of ‘tickle’ he had in mind, there was no way Phainon could win something like that, but if the deliverer was so eager to step into his own grave… Still, there was a problem: Mydei wasn’t really sure of how one should perform it.

What if he messed up? Maybe there were right ways to “tickle” against someone. He had never heard of such a thing in his hometown, so what if he messed it up now, with Phainon of all people? Well, Mydei smirked, there was an easy way out of this problem. “You can go first,” he said confidently.

“Oh? Feeling confident now?” Phainon smiled, cocking his head forward to have a better look at Mydei’s face, “aren’t you scared I’ll win again?”

“There is no word for ‘scared’ in the kremnoan language, HKS, and you didn’t win before - just like you won’t no- agh!” Mydei gasped, finding himself pinned as Phainon was suddenly straddling his lap.

He leaned his head back, trying to increase the distance between their faces as Phainon’s hands rested over his chest, fiddling with the soaked cloth of his robes. “You know,” Phainon giggled, looking down to Mydei’s body, “now that I think about it, I’m not sure if this is fair… I don’t even know if you’re ticklish.”

“T-ticklish?”

“Mhm, you know what it is, right? Since you know what a ‘tickle’ is,” Phainon smirked, his palms rubbing down Mydei’s chest, his hands descending towards his toned stomach. His fingers began to wiggle, to flutter, gently tracing the hard muscles and then prodding at his sides. “So, do you have a word for ‘tickle’ in the kremnoan language?”

“H-HKS,” Mydei hissed, gritting his teeth and pressing his jaw shut while that weird sensation took over his body. This was not what he expected! What part of this was a barehanded fight?! That disgraceful outlander! “W-what- ahah- ngh, what ahare you-”

“I’m tickling you,” Phainon mused, clearly excited and glad that such an opportunity fell right into his hands. His fingers were becoming bolder, tickling Mydei’s ribs and then dragged his short nails over the wet skin, “but if it’s too much for you, I can stop.”

“B-bahaha- baseless slandeher!” Mydei felt his cheeks getting warmer while he gripped at the edges of the bath as hard as he could to keep his hands where they were - trying to stop whatever perversion this was would surely mean to admit defeat. “S-suhuch a futile t-trihihial is fitthihing for a hyena like y-yohou!”

“But you are the one to choose it, no?” Phainon giggled, making Mydei’s cheek turn a bit redder while he tickled his ribs, his touches a bit more rough as he tried to draw the stronger reactions out of him. “I don’t mind, you seem to be having fun, heh.”

“S-shuhuhut it, HKS!” Mydei threw his head back, hearing just a faint chuckle coming from Phainon before his own laughter filled the room. Titans, what was happening?!

He couldn’t understand why he felt like laughing, why his body was begging him to cover itself. The feeling was so much different than the pain he built his body to endure, but so much more overwhelming at the same time. 

Mydei arched his back off the edge of the bath, trying to avoid Phainon’s fingers drilling between his ribs and, sometimes, into his armpits. His laughter was just as loud as a lion’s roar - fitting, if you asked Phainon, who seemed to be having a blast out of this whole situation.

“Oho, you’re doing really well, Mydei! I think it’s been a minute already, should I keep going?”

“D-dohohon’t undeheherestimate me, HKS!” Mydei hissed, flashing Phainon with a fanged smile, his jaw pressed shut as he challenged the deliverer with a single look. “T-thihis is nohohothing!”

“Great,” Phainon nodded, pushing his hands under Mydei’s arms and tickling both at once, finally earning the reaction he was looking for. Phainon couldn’t help but laugh along the desperate, loud cackles from Mydei, seeing how his hands nearly pierced through the marbled walls of the baths. “Let’s see how much it takes to crack this immortal body of yours ~”

[lonniemachin]

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Tagging for reach under the cut.

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[kurishiri]

Mystery Bag 2025 ┊ Team 2: The trash bastards and the troubled fox

Harrison, Alfons, Jude, Nica

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to narrative flow and characterization purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— the mystery bag 2025 sale is a story set sale where the guys are put into teams and participate in a relay event thing. this is one of three teams (i love al too much to pass this by aa orz)! you can read the prologue, translated by @.judesmoonbeauty, here.

— cw: mentions of drugging or spiking drinks, bribing, and groping.

——Group 2 for the preliminary contest: Harrison, Alfons, Jude, Nica.

[SKY]

Steering committee: Then, we will begin the round for group 2.

Steering committee: Who will reach the goal first and emerge the happy boy for 2025?!

Steering committee: Let us go all out! Take your places, and…start!

[PARK - DAY]

Harrison: Oh, jeez, that was fast. So, why are you guys all standing there?

Alfons: Since the spectators are no longer in sight, so I figured if it was around now or so,

A: it would be a good time to drop this act of competing to the hardest and fullest.

Harrison: What? (O_O)

H: Or wait a minute, I’m pretty sure Al’s no exception; you guys are scheming something weird, aren’t you.

Jude: Who are ya gonna blame when ya don’t have a drop o’ evidence on ya? Way to make others out as the villain.

Nica: Agreed. I wouldn’t dream of scheming anything so bad in broad daylight, you know.

Harrison: Your lies are so damn obvious. I don’t even need to use my ability to figure that out.

H: If you all get caught, would you be alright getting disqualified?

Alfons: Oh, goodness, shiver me timbers. I’ll be honest, so hold your silence, alright?

A: I’m sure you’re aware there is a spot you can take a quick water break a bit up ahead, no?

A: I maaay or may not have pulled an ever so slight trick on the drinks.

A: Said trick being a sleeping drug that can knock one out immediately.

Harrison: You’re the worst.

Jude: Well, seems like somethin’ that walkin’ offense to public morals would pull outta his arse.

Alfons: And what of you?

Jude: Jus’ gave some money on a stick to the committee and told ‘em to tamper with the info and give us the win.

J: There’s been a wave o’ people, so it wouldn’t get outed.

Harrison: You’re no better.

Nica: I’d expect nothing less from the company president, dirtying your hands. Someone as well-bred as me could never.

Harrison: And? What’s up your sleeve?

Nica: Now don’t go lumping me together with that mirror man and president.

N: All I did was use my superior intellect and surveying skills. …Say, did you know?

N: This time, beneath the course there’s a sewer. One that’ll lead you right next to the goal.

N: So I was thinking of slipping underground, bide my time… and take first place.

Jude & Alfons: What a bastard. / Very much as low as trash.

Nica: You guys are the last ones I want to be called ‘trash bastards’ from.

Harrison: Damn, it’s trash bastards left and right.

H: So? What did you hope to gain from all this?

Alfons: Why of course, it’s to use Her Majesty’s authority to do this and that and aaall things in between.

Harrison: I was a fool for ever asking.

H: What about you, Jude?

Jude: Anythin’ goes. There’s a whole load o’ things I wanna do with the Queenie’s authority.

J: Well, I’d bet that bad guy over there would ask for somethin’ ridiculous.

Nica: As if. I’m just trying to earn what I very much love — money.

N: There’s never enough money to go around.

Harrison: If that’s what you really think, then I’ll leave it at that.

Nica: …Being able to pick up on lies, huh. You’ve got a troublesome ability on you, don’t you, Harrison Gray.

Harrison: They said abilities were forbidden. I’m just reading what you’re feeling.

Nica: You’re the only one who’ll ever know if you’re using your ability or not. I’d expect nothing less of the one Cursed by the Lying Fox.

Harrison: Thanks, I guess.

Nica: ——Anyway, what are we going to do from now on?

Alfons: Whatever could you mean?

Nica: I mean, seeing as we all revealed our hands, I can’t imagine this will end nice and smooth.

N: For the record, I’m fine with taking each other down. Since I don’t hold back against bastards and all.

Jude: Ha, I like the sound o’ that. The last one standin’ wins. Simple, clear-cut, n’ easy to understand.

Alfons: Though I can’t say I enjoy such brutish things, I suppose sacrifices may be inevitable.

Harrison: Hey you guys——

Woman’s cry: Ahh!

Harrison: That voice…

Woman’s cry: Someone! There’s a groper— he groped me!

Nica: A groper, huh.

N: Yeah, I figured. There’s bound to be some stupid humans who can’t hold themselves back and take advantage of the festival.

N: I just don’t get it. Well, I’m sure with this crowd, he’ll get caught in no time.

Alfons: I’m sure a man foolish enough to grope others will be caught soon——

A: But as I recall, the direction that man is running happens to be toward the place Kate has come to cheer for us, isn’t it?

Harrison: …I’ll go. I’m worried about her.

H: You guys can do whatever.

Jude: Tch, can’t stand the thought o’ leaving ‘er alone and gettin’ yelled at.

Alfons: Ahha! Are the men who haven’t run that much before going full speed ahead now?

A: What are you going to do, Nica?

Nica: Guess I’ll go too? Standing idle around won’t do much anyway.

[ALLEYWAY]

Groper: Dammit… why are you guys chasing after me! Ah——

Harrison: Okay, caught you.

Jude: Keep that trash bastard o’ a pervert restrained.

Harrison: That was my intention.

H: Ahh, you guys came too?

Nica: Ohh, so this is the groper, huh. Haha, now that’s a face that’ll probably stir up trouble with women.

Alfons: Judging by one’s outward appearance is nonsense. That said, though, he does sport a rather unfulfilled expression.

Groper: I didn’t do it! My hand just happened to touch her butt.

Groper: And besides! Aren’t you guys the one who’s got some unfulfilled desires, stirring up all this fuss all over this?

Alfons: Oh, you happened to, didn’t you.

A: On the way here, I caught onto something, you see.

A: As far as I heard, six women were bringing up how they were getting touched by you.

A: Why that is one hefty coincidence indeed, dare I say.

A: Or could it be your hands were implanted with a magnet that drew you to women’s rears?

Nica: And besides, we’ve got a handy lie detector right here.

N: So? Which is it?

Harrison: Everything you’re saying is a lie. There’s no doubt about that.

H: Well, that’s my intuition, at least.

Groper: …gh.

Groper: D-damn it all! Yeah, okay, I did it!

Nica: Okay, okay, I’ve heard just about enough of that bastard’s dirty voice.

Alfons: Now then, having confessed so honestly, what punishment shall we do?

A: Ahh, come to think of it, our abilities are off the table, aren’t they. Well then, Jude.

Jude: Show that nasty arse o’ yours. The one ya fondled with.

Groper: Guah!

Nica: Wow, that sounded brutal. His bones are probably broken.

Alfons: My heartfelt condolences. Well, what should we do with this knocked out man?

Harrison: Hand him over to the police.

H: Today we’re not Crown and Vogel, but rather just participants.

Jude: Whatever floats your boat. I couldn’t care less.

An unclear cry: Ahh!

Harrison: Another one…? (O_O)

Alfons: What is it this time?

[BRIDGE]

Kate: Ah— guys!

K: There’s a big problem, all the participants who had the drinks from the break spot ended up falling fast asleep!

Alfons: Is that so?

Kate: And then a committee member started to reveal that they’d been threatened and bribed and——

Jude: Hmm.

Kate: And on top of that, it was discovered that someone was going to use the sewer as an unjust move!

Nica: Well, I’ll be.

Kate: Just who could be behind these? It’s too much like what a trash bastard would do, and I can’t look past that!

Harrison: Go on, Kate, keep it going.

Kate: Wha——?

Fin.

team 1 team 2 team 3

ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍