#chap 11

[summontale]

✸ Summontale Chap 11 // page 4 ✸

Your reflection

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Deviantart Tapas

[untaemedqueen]

At Your Service

Escort!Jeongguk x CEO!Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 11.

Series Warnings (Will Be Updated): Angst, Fluff, Cold Heartedness, Emotional Trauma, Healing, Smut, Dark Humor

"Did you pack enough stuff in your bag?" Jeongguk inquires, tilting his head to look at you as he drives your car towards his apartment.

"Yes," you reply with a laugh.

"Enough stuff to last a lifetime?" he jeers with a soft smile.

You packed enough clothes for multiple days even if your brain was screaming at you to be reasonable but with Guk you can't really help it.

He was so excited to take you home with him that you didn't even feel human, you felt as if you were a beautiful piece of art or the sweetest pet known to man. So when he finally got you in the car to go stay with him at his apartment, you too felt overjoyed.

"Taehyung and Jimin are gonna come over later, I promised to cook them dinner," the escort announces, pulling up to his block.

You've heard so much about his two friends while laying beside one another that it almost makes you feel nervous about meeting them. Which is a feeling you're certainly not used to.

"What if they don't like me?" you find yourself asking as he parks the car.

When he shuts off the engine, he tilts his head towards you, eyebrow cocked with a disbelieving expression. "Why would they not like you? You're incredible, baby."

The compliment sends your stomach coiling and your mind reeling instantaneously. But you're pulled back to reality when his soft, warm hand coasts over your cheek sweetly.

"Well my personality isn't for everyone and what if--"

"Baby," Jeongguk cuts you off sweetly, leaning in just the smallest bit closer, "your personality is astounding. Jimin and Tae can be idiots but they would never treat you wrongly. They know how much this means to me, how much you mean to me. They're going to love you."

You've always been under the impression that the sudden romantic relationship you've entered has had a profound impact on the handsome escort but it's never really sunk in until now.

You mean something to this man.

Strangely, it doesn't put you off of him for a second. You want to get to know him more, you want more of these talks and more of these feelings.

You're for once willing to open up to someone and let them in.

Fuck being scared and cold, you're personality is basically rewriting itself with every earnest word he speaks and you're in love with that notion.

"Ready?" Guk asks, grabbing your bag from the backseat and pulling it over the middle console.

"Yes," you reply sweetly.

You're ready for pretty much anything now, Jeongguk is absolutely worth it.

The apartment building the escort lives in is simple but you find it apt for him and his personality. The hallways are lined with cream wallpaper that have tiny lines decorating them vertically that somehow makes it feel homey and comfortable. The sconces on the walls are simple pewter and the light they give off is just the slightest bit yellow which compliments the wallpaper and the dark gray carpet underfoot.

The escort looks in his element here, slinging your expensive bag over his shoulder he glides down the hallway with confidence. To see someone in their own home is usually the most eye opening thing, you can see their comfort level, what they like, how they act in a place of their own.

For you, your mansion was never really home so you aren't sure what people can see about you when you're inside of it.

Guk whistles a sweet tune that carries through the stagnant air as he rounds the corner of the hall and he slings his arm over your shoulders with a smirk. "4D, this is us."

Us.

You aren't sure if he plans out the things that he's going to say or if he really is just the sweetest, smoothest person of all time.

"Brace yourself," he whispers happily.

Your body goes almost rigid on his command, hearing nail scratches behind the front door of his apartment.

"He's a big dude," the escort whispers, putting the key in the lock.

"Hawking, step back," Jeongguk calls through the door with a laugh.

When he cracks the door open, you can see the huge door excitedly wagging his tail, hoping to welcome his owner home.

"We have a guest!" Guk cheers, stepping inside the apartment and waiting for you with a smile.

When you step inside the large black great dane is up to your waist and he's not paying a lick of attention to you as he runs around his owner happily greeting him home.

When the escort laughs vibrantly, crouching down to accept the love, your heart flutters sweetly inside of your chest. He looks up at you with his soft doe eyes and you immediately feel warmth spreading through your limbs like a drug.

"Look! Isn't daddy's girlfriend so pretty?" Guk coos, standing up tall.

Your skin raises goosebumps at the simple word and you're taken aback by how naturally it rolls off his tongue.

"Hi Hawking," you whisper, petting the top off his head.

"You are my girlfriend, right? I'd hate to lie to man's best friend," the escort quips, setting down your bag on the couch.

Hawking licks your hand sweetly and you want to just sit down beside him and hold him for days, he looks up at you so sweetly that it makes you feel like mush.

When you have a chance to look around the apartment you notice how completely clean it is. There's not a piece of dust or a crumb anywhere in sight. Not to mention how bright and open it is with all the windows around.

The escort has comfortable furniture and the house feels more lived in, something you would never feel in the dark mansion you own.

"Sit down," your boyfriend insists, throwing himself down on the couch.

He opens his arms, narrowing his eyes at Hawking who tries to jump on the couch before you.

You can tell that you're moving awkwardly already, especially when your muscles strain awkwardly to sit down.

The escort can tell almost immediately how uncomfortable you are and he tries to help by running a soothing hand over your exposed thigh.

"What do you want me to make for dinner?" he inquires, brushing some hair back behind your ear.

The question distracts you and suddenly you're too concerned with your thoughts that you sag comfortably against him and the couch.

"I can just order something for all of us," you suggest, looking over at him.

He shakes his head, groaning loudly when his large dog jumps on the couch and lays their weight on him.

"You're not a Yorkie, buddy. Jesus!" he wheezes, petting Hawking as he lays his head over your lap.

"He's really cute," you whisper, smiling down at him.

"The guys like it," Guk announces, stretching his legs out and putting them atop his coffee table.

Raising an eyebrow, you tilt your head to look at him in confusion.

"Jimin and Taehyung," he clarifies, kissing your cheek, "they like my cooking."

"I didn't know you cook," you reply, allowing him to pull you closer.

"I love cooking. Hopefully you'll enjoy it too. I'll even make you dessert," the escort whispers, winking.

"What kind?" you inquire innocently, looking around the living room.

"Somethin' real tasty," he answers, slapping your inner thigh just hard enough to produce a sting that makes you suck a shallow breath between your teeth.

"How does Coq au Vin sound?" your boyfriend asks, combing his fingers through his hair.

"If you can make that, sure," you whisper, running your hand over Hawking's head when he begins to doze off on your lap.

"Oh, baby, I can make anything," he promises, sliding his dog off his lap to get up.

Being in this apartment with this man makes you really feel like this is something that you can get used to.

You can already feel yourself opening up, you want to experience these things again even if you fight it every step of the way.

Jeongguk is not Jasper.

He's not out to hurt you.

You keep reminding yourself over and over again but it isn't as easy as just berating yourself for being so closed off.

The apartment smells simply divine, the aroma of red wine and perfectly cooked vegetables permeate the air wonderfully.

Jeongguk truly is amazing at everything.

The gentle pop music that echoes throughout the apartment and the sight of your handsome man cooking dinner has allowed you to relax to the fullest extent possible.

Currently, you're lying long ways on the large black couch with Hawking beside you. For such a big dog he truly is incredibly gentle.

The escort moves with such grace around his kitchen. Even though it's small and cozy, he makes it seem like he's in a restaurant.

Jeongguk hums melodically to the current song that plays, bringing a spoon coated in the stew liquid to his mouth.

You watch with rapt fascination as he enters the spoon past his lips and he nods to himself before grabbing the pepper and eyeballing more into the pot.

Hawking licks at your elbow for attention and you realize you've stopped paying attention to anything else. You're enraptured with the shirtless man making you dinner in his apartment.

You give a kind smile to the dog, going back to mindlessly petting him.

When Jeongguk claps, you tilt your head to watch his arm muscles flex and contort with the movement.

After putting the pot in the oven, he turns his head to look at you only to realize you've been staring for quite some time. He smiles widely at the sight of your innocent eyes and he winks at you fof good measure.

"What do you think?" he asks, holding up two different bottles of red wine.

"The Marquise is good for deep dishes like this one," you reply, pointing to the left bottle.

"Perfect," he smiles, setting down the left one and grabbing the wine opener for the right one.

This is so domestic.

You would never think that this is something you would be doing on a random Thursday.

Your boyfriend brings over a glass for you, filled perfectly to the curve of the glass.

"My dad used to be a line cook so I know some stuff about cheffing it up," Guk says, handing you the glass.

"It smells amazing!" you reply earnestly.

He lifts your ankles, sitting down at the end of the couch and narrowing his eyes playfully at his dog who simply lays his head on your breast lazily.

"You can change and get comfy y'know, you look too good in that expensive dress to be sitting on a couch covered in dog hair," your boyfriend offers, running his fingers thoughtlessly over your calf.

"I wanna make a good first impression," you avow, taking a sip of the wine.

It's the truth, really. Jimin and Taehyung are probably incredibly protective of him. They helped him through everything with Chloe, it's only right that they have their reservations about you.

Hell, you even have reservations about you.

"Just be yourself and they're going to love you," Guk promises, angling himself closer to you.

You set the wine down on the coffee table, letting the pop you don't normally listen to wrap you in a comforting blanket of melodic tones.

"Y'know," your boyfriend breathes, smirking wickedly at you, "I can always get you naked and make you change."

You laugh softly, adoring how his mocha orbs become lustfully playful at the drop of a hat.

"Oh really?" you counter, knowing full well that Hawking is so large that there wouldn't be any way to do anything sexual.

"Mhm," he cajoles, clicking his teeth sharply, "Hawk, get down, bud."

The dog heeds his owners words, jumping off and over the arm of the couch easily.

Okay.

An oversight on your part.

"Uh," you breathe, looking at the door.

The escort slides between your thighs and he notches an eyebrow at your flustered expression. "They don't have a key."

He kisses up what is exposed on your thighs and you can simply only squirm lustfully under his touch.

"Lemme give you your dessert before dinner," he mumbles against your skin.

Your fingers card through his long black locks and right when you reach the apex of your thighs, the door's lock begins to open.

Guk is so flustered by the loud noise that he recoils so fast from you he almost pulls a muscle in his neck.

"Oh honey, we're home!" Jimin yells, thrusting the door open.

You look up wide eyed, slowly closing your knees and the older man immediately knows he's intruded upon something.

"What're you crazy kids doin'?" he guffaws, clearly not bothered by the flustered sight of you both.

"Where did you get a key?!" Jeongguk gasps, tossing the throw blanket on the top of the couch over your legs.

Taehyung steps inside politely, nodding his salutations to you.

"You should really keep track of your belongings, Gukkie. I took your spare when we were here last time! You should be grateful. What if you end up choking one day and I'm the only one that can save you," Jimin replies happily, pouring himself a glass of wine.

"Seems like he was about to be choking on something else," Taehyung muses with a smirk, giving you a once over.

"This is Taehyung and Jimin," your boyfriend whispers softly, extending a hand from one to the other.

Oh.

This evening is going to be interesting.

<----- Last Chapter                                            Next Chapter ------>

[bridgeportbritt]

Emperor Napoléon V departs SimDonia after Eventful Two Day State Visit

And just like that, we say goodbye to the Emperor! After residing in Willington Palace for the last two days, Napoléon V waves goodbye as he heads back home to Francesim.

Walking toward the Palace gates, admirers cheer for the Napoléon V as he exits to his car. He wears a fitted black suit upon his departure. The Emperor took part in a number of different engagements for the visit meant to strengthen ties between the countries.

Seeing him off are the Queen and Prince who hosted the Emperor in their home, Willington Palace. Gerhard wears a SimDonia red sweater vest and tie. Diana wears a beige colored vest suit, as well. We love this look on the Queen!

And thar concludes our coverage on the Francesim State Visit! We hope the Emperor enjoyed his time in SimDonia and is back again soon!

@empiredesimparte

[nirutarami]

Summontale chap 11 WIP

In the final, vines from the sketch are removed.

Actually, I forget to add that detail but it looks good so I just leave it that way haha

[v-arbellanaris]

my fav part of origins is the fact that it's a love letter to "the end does not justify the means". the entire game, in almost every quest, this is the constant question that's thrown at us. everyone in the story tells us that they did what they did because it would achieve the best outcome. from uldred's uprising in the circle tower, to zathrian's cursing of the werewolves, to bhelen's coup. loghain himself uses this as justification for the retreat at ostagar - that it was the morally correct decision to abandon the field, because it guaranteed some of the army would survive and could regroup for a new assault on the darkspawn in ostagar. and it's so specific that loghain, as the primary antagonist, loghain is the one arguing that the ends justifies the means because he is either your parallel, or your mirror.

to be more specific, my favourite thing about origins is that you, as the player character, are faced with the exact same choice. you will always resolve the circle tower uprising. you will always resolve the issue between the dalish and the werewolves. you will always settle the secession crisis in orzammar. you will always fight the archdemon and win over it. but how? what are your means? will you murder a child to spare redcliffe? will you slaughter cornered circle mages trapped in a tower with no escape? will you kill innocent werewolves who had nothing to do with a tragedy that happened hundreds of years ago? will you support a king that has his own family's blood on his hands because he wants change or a king that's more committed to culture & tradition over justice?

does it matter? to you? to anyone? why does it matter, if you're going to get to the same place in the story at the end?

and the story tells you. again and again. it matters. it matters because the ends do not justify the means. to roughly quote ursula k le guin, it matters because there is no end - you start the awakening dlc as your own warden if you survived, or as an orlesian warden if not. so, all you have left is the means.

it's very clumsy in a lot of places, and there's obvious issues if you look at each case in closer detail (e.g. the ideas around social justice re: dalish elves & mages), but overall, this is the kind of story that makes origins so special to me tbh. it really holds up a mirror to this kind of cold, utilitarian morality that's so often rewarded in "dark" fantasy genres. like idk it's very good to me.

[mediumgayitalian]

When Lee and Michael pull him from Chiron's exceptionally dry Ancient Greek lessons, Will is excited. When they drag him down, ducking, behind the stables, as other campers walk by, he is intrigued. When they guide him all the way back to their cabin, sit him on his bed, and then drag two stools to sit across from him, silently, he is still excited.

A little nervous, now.

But excited.

"Will," Michael says, solemn. He presses his fist to his mouth, eyes carefully blank. "Will, you are almost ten years old, now."

Will bounces on his mattress, grinning. "Yeah! I'm nine and fifty-six seventy-thirds." He peers at his brothers hopefully, trying to lessen his fidgeting and appear Regal and Adult. "Am I getting my Dad present early?"

Gods, he hopes so. He has been counting down the days -- every tenth birthday, for every kid, Camp-bound or not, Apollo sends them a gift of gold jewelry, smelted in the heat of the Sun by Holy Hephaestus, jewels handcrafted by the finest artisans on Olympus, blessed by yours truly. Will has been watching in seething jealousy as Michael's signet ring glints every time he pulls back his bow, as Cass' hoops swing when she walks. He hopes the gift is earrings -- he finally convinced Michael to pierce his lobes a couple months ago, and he's tired of the ugly studs. Beckendorf made him promise to let him poke around at whatever Will gets, and Will has been itching to show him.

And to get the jewelry, obviously. That's priority number one.

Lee shakes his head slowly. "No. You will get your milestone when you get it." He exchanges a long, fearful look with Michael. Will picks at last summer's clay bead, with the trident on it. "Speaking of milestones…"

Michael makes a sudden, choked noise, covering his face with his hands and curling forward. Will startles. Lee sighs, looking down for a moment as well. When he looks up again, he meets Will's wide eyes with his teary ones, and places a supportive hand on Michael's back.

"Will…" he looks out to the open window, shaking his head slightly. When he looks back, his face is creased in apology, and his eyes are ringed with pity. Will feels his heart drop. "Have you chosen someone, yet?"

"Chosen?" Will straightens, fists twisting in his shorts. "Chosen someone for what?" Michael makes another strangled wailing noise. Will's breath hitches, and his ears white out. "Lee, tell me! Tell me now!"

"We are a Greek camp," Lee says, finally. "An ancient Greek camp. With ancient Greek customs, kiddo."

He says it softly, apologetically. Like the time a seagull swooped down and stole Will's ice cream, right from his hands, on the beach last week. Will recognizes the hopeless tone of his voice and his heart drops.

"How much did they tell you about…our customs?"

"I didn't listen to the admissions video!" Will confesses, panicked. "I'm sorry! It was so boring! There were a bajillion music numbers and they were all kind of bad no offense and the screen made my eyes hurt and I missed my mom and --"

"Will," Michael says, voice shaking. He meets Will's eyes and Will is horrified to see they are wet.

He has never seen Michael cry before -- not even once.

"It's okay, Will. Some people don't know."

"Tell me," Will begs. "Am I being sacrificed?"

To his great relief, both his brothers laugh, waving dismissive hands as they chuckle. Will sags into his pillows.

"Oh, no, gods no. That would be barbaric." Lee wipes a tear from his eyes. "C'mon, Will, we're a little more civilized than that." He smiles encouragingly. Will smiles, hesitantly, back. "You're getting married."

It takes a long enough moment for the sound to travel and the word to register that Will is sure his hearing aids have gone wonky. He taps them, as though it will do anything, and tilts his head.

"I didn't hear you right. What did you say?"

"Married," Michael repeats. "By age 10, like all people had to do back then." He and Lee exchange another weighted look. "That, or you have to marry Mr. D." He rushes to assure at Will's panicked shriek; "Only if you don't choose someone in time. You have until you turn ten, so don't worry. I'm sure you'll find someone in time. You'll have most of the summer, anyway."

There is a moment where Lee and Michael murmur to each other, nodding. "Yeah," Lee says, mostly to himself. "You'll be fine." To which Michael responds: "Of course, of course. I mean, we did it."

Will sits there, frozen.

"I can't get married!" he cries, coming back to himself. He begins to hyperventilate. "I'm -- nine! I'm a kid!" He looks to his older brothers, blue eyes big and watery. "I don't even know how to file my taxes yet!"

Lee and Michael are sympathetic. They move forward, immediately, one on either side of him; Lee slides a squeezing hand around his shoulders, Michael pats him on the leg.

"It'll be fine, squirt," Lee soothes. He gestures across them. "I mean, me and Michael found somebody. It all worked out."

"You're married?" Will chokes out. His breaths come quick and shallow, despite Lee's comforting hand. "Michael is married?!"

"Watch it, twerp," Michael warns, at the same time as Lee says: "It was a challenge and a half, but yeah, Michael is married."

Will glances quickly down. There is no ring on either of their left hands, but they must notice him looking, because Michael snorts, pinching him on the knee.

"We just told you it's an ancient Greek custom, dumbass. Rings were invented later. We just…" He makes an incomprehensible gesture with his ringless hand. "Followed the book, completed the rite, etc, etc. Boom. Matrimony."

Lee nods. He rubs Will's shoulder a final time, encouragingly, before pulling away enough to give him space to breathe.

"You'll find someone, Will. We just thought we'd warn you because it didn't look like you remembered yourself, and we don't want you to have to…well."

Will shudders. Vaguely, in the back of his blurry, blurry memory, he can recall someone saying something in a video somewhere about partners and their importance in Camp. He had not paid attention, and he curses himself for it, now -- he almost had to marry Mr. D. Mr. D. who is rude, who smells like vinegar, who always has something in his teeth, who sleeps all day and drools more than a waterfall, who scares the satyrs on purpose and never even says sorry. Who is mean and gross and the worst ever.

"Thank you," Will says, tearfully. He grips his brothers' hands in his small fists and shakes from his spot between them, almost-life flashing in front of his eyes. If his brothers hadn't warned him, Mr. D. would have made him rub his stinking feet and feed him grapes for all eternity for sure. There wouldn't even be breaks for episodes of Star Trek. He shudders. "Thank you."

His brothers return the half-hug, although Michal sighs about it. He is too short to see the smirks they flash above his head.

"Anytime, twerp."

-- -- --

next

[drxgony]

Blood Meridian Chapters 9-10, at this point it plays like a comedy

[records-of-a-slacker]

Happy Thursday to my lovely readers. You can't run forever.

[kyywritess]

CHAPTER 11: KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER

pairing: aged up!katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

summary: After six intense years in Japan, YN LN has firmly established herself as a renowned gym owner. She's known by many pros for her charm, strength, and boxing abilities. She has a strong support system and amazing friends... her life in Japan was everything she dreamed it would be.

But everything changes one fateful night when a mysterious package appears on her doorstep. No note, no return address—just a plain box wrapped with a single pearly pink ribbon. As she unravels the contents of the box, she’s drawn into a dark, twisted mystery that seems to reach deep into her own past—a past she thought she had buried when she left her old life behind.

wc: 3.6k

an: Another cliffhanger I'm sorry, dont be mad at me.

---

If there was one thing Katsuki Bakugo wanted in his current life, it was you. After the car crash, rage consumed him, his mind bent on tearing apart the driver responsible. But everything shifted when he heard Kirishima's frantic voice calling his name. The look on Kirishima's face made his heart plummet into his stomach.

He had barely dropped the man he intended to pummel when blinding white lights flooded the area. Three cars screeched to a stop, surrounding him and Kirishima.

Then, a man stepped out—tall, pale, and with piercing green eyes that Bakugo could never forget. Moretti.

Instinct screamed at him to run to you, to grab you and flee. He tried, unleashing explosion after explosion, each blast aimed at Moretti and his men. But amidst the chaos, Kirishima had disappeared to get help, and Moretti’s men had reached the wreckage.

They were pulling you out of the car. Limp, lifeless. Blood poured from your leg, staining the ground in a deep crimson pool.

“Get in the car, or I shoot the girl,” Moretti commanded, his tone as cold as steel.

Bakugo froze. There was no real choice. His gaze locked on you—your ghostly pale skin, hair matted with blood and dirt. You looked strangely serene, as if you'd made peace with the horror unfolding.

He wouldn’t let them kill you. Not while he was alive to stop it.

So he got in the car, seething with suppressed fury as they bound a tourniquet around your leg and checked your pulse. The contradiction gnawed at him: Moretti threatened your life, yet kept you alive. Why?

Now he sat in a chair too small for his broad frame, wrists bound but mind racing. Across the room, you lay unconscious, your chest rising and falling faintly—a fragile sign of life.

Your skin was deathly pale, a dark wound visible just above the blindfold they’d placed over your eyes. The blindfold seemed ridiculous—after all, you’d been unconscious for hours.

For two excruciatingly silent hours, he hadn’t seen or heard anyone and it was driving him mad.

The warehouse they were in was heavily guarded. Armed men patrolled the perimeter like it was a military base. Inside the room, there was only one door and a single vent leading who knew where. Security cameras loomed over the room, scanning every corner—except behind him.

He flexed against the ropes, testing their strength. He had to get out, to get you somewhere safe.

It was painfully clear now that you weren’t working for Moretti. Guilt hit him like a sucker punch as he remembered his earlier accusations. He’d jumped to conclusions, faster than he ever had before.

The thought of you lying to him, keeping something so monumental hidden, had stung more than he’d imagined. But the sight of you now—broken, fragile—eclipsed his hurt.

If you both made it out of this, he’d spend every day making it up to you.

He knew Kirishima had to be rallying backup, but the real challenge was figuring out where they were.

And then there was James. Whatever your connection to him, Bakugo had to hope James had realized you were missing.

But right now, nothing else mattered except getting you out alive.

---

When you first came to, you were met with complete darkness. A coarse fabric was draped over your face, muffling your breath and adding to the suffocating sense of confinement. You tried to move, but your wrists were bound tightly behind you, the rough texture of rope biting into your skin. The faint ache in your leg brought the memories flooding back—the car crash, the chaos, and then... nothing.

The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the distant sound of dripping water. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the shift in the air told you all you needed to know: Moretti had found you.

The harsh scrape of a chair across concrete jolted you. You flinched instinctively, your pulse quickening as a familiar presence filled the room. That scent—carmel and musk, faint but distinct—was unmistakable.

“Stupid fucking chair.”

Bakugo’s voice cut through the darkness, low and gruff, filled with irritation.

Relief and dread tangled together in your chest. He was here. They had taken him too. Your heart sank at the realization. Not only had you been captured, but now the one person you’d tried to protect was caught in this nightmare with you.

You remained silent, your breathing shallow as you processed your surroundings. The pressure wrapped around your thigh was unmistakable—a makeshift tourniquet, crudely tied but effective. The pain was simmering, dulled only by the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

The scrape of Bakugo’s chair yanked you from your thoughts.

“Stop. Head hurts,” you muttered hoarsely, wincing at the sound of your own voice.

The noise ceased, leaving the room to drown in silence once more.

“Fuck, you’re alive,” Bakugo muttered, almost to himself.

“Mmm,” you hummed, your mind still foggy. “How’d Moretti get you?”

“How’d you know it was Moretti?”

The words slipped out before you could think. “He’s notorious for tying people up in chairs. Plus, I can feel him.”

“Feel him?”

“Are you gonna keep asking questions?” you shot back weakly.

His voice darkened, low and dangerous. “Are you gonna keep lying to me?”

The accusation hit you harder than you expected, but now wasn’t the time to argue. “I only lied to you because I care for you.”

“Right.”

The weight of his skepticism pressed down on you. You needed to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“Do you have a blindfold on?”

“No, but hands are tied.”

The deadpan response caught you off guard, and before you knew it, laughter bubbled out of you. It wasn’t the right time, and you knew it, but the absurdity of the situation made your head spin.

“Glad to see you still have a sense of humor.” Bakugo snapped, his irritation palpable.

You struggled to catch your breath between fits of giggles. “I’m sorry—it’s not funny… it’s just—how did they even capture you?”

“They rolled up on us after the crash,” he admitted, his tone sharp. “They were gonna kill you if I didn’t comply. I had no choice.”

The laughter died in your throat, replaced by a lump of guilt.

“Yeah, not so funny now,” he added bitterly.

You bit your lip, your mind racing. There was only one reason Moretti would take Bakugo—it wasn’t just about you anymore. Moretti had been watching, studying you, and he knew exactly what buttons to press.

“Katsuki—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he cut you off, already piecing it together.

“Why?” you whispered.

"Cause I couldn’t stand there and watch another man take you. Even if nothin’ made sense,” he murmured, the softness in his voice catching you off guard.

“I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you,” you said quietly.

“Did—was anything ever real?”

The question hung in the air like a blade poised to strike. Of course it was real. The way your heart beat for him was real. 

“The way I feel about you is real,” you said, your voice trembling.

You could feel his eyes on you, even through the darkness. A smile crept onto your face despite the situation. “Stop staring at me like that.”

“Wha—”

“I have a lot to explain to you,” you said, cutting him off.

“Yeah.”

“Is Kiri okay?” You asked, redirecting the conversation again.

“Yeah, he was able to escape before they got to him.”

Relief washed over you. The plan you and Kirishima had made flickered in your mind. He’d be on his way to the cabin now.

“Good,” you muttered.

Bakugo spoke up, an unusual softness to his voice. “M’sorry. Thought you were working with him.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head even though you knew he couldn’t see it. “I’d never work for a person like Moretti.”

“Then how are you tied to him?”

“No relation. Just a scumbag I want dead,” you said bluntly.

“Tch. Tell me about it.”

“One day,” you promised, your voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ll tell you everything. But right now, we don’t have time.”

The air shifted again, heavier now, as if Moretti’s presence loomed closer. You could sense it before it happened.

The sound of footsteps echoed from outside the room, growing louder. Bakugo stiffened in his chair, and you could feel his energy change, coiling like a spring ready to snap.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” he growled, his voice like thunder as the door creaked open and footsteps moved towards you. 

A pair of hands fiddled with the knot of your blindfold, yanking it away. Blinding white light seared your eyes, and you blinked rapidly to adjust. When your vision cleared, there he was: Moretti.

His piercing green eyes bored into yours with a predatory gleam, a smug smile spreading across his face. He looked older than you remembered, the years of prison etched into the lines around his mouth and eyes, but the malice was as strong as ever.

“Well, isn’t this a treat? Two of Japan’s finest, tied up like common prey,” Moretti drawled, his voice dripping with venom. “Dynamight, the explosive hothead. And Y/N, America's sweetheart. Tell me, do you think the public will mourn you more if I kill you together or one at a time?”

The tension in the room thickened like a fog, suffocating and heavy. Bakugo’s crimson eyes burned with defiance as he pulled against his restraints, the cords creaking ominously under the strain. “Try it,” he spat, his voice a razor-edged promise. “See how far you get before I blow your head off.”

Moretti chuckled, a low, mirthless sound that sent a chill down your spine. “Ah, there’s that famous temper. But let’s not forget who’s holding all the cards here, Dynamight.” He gestured to you, his fingers grazing your cheek in a way that made your stomach churn. “One wrong move, and she’s gone.”

Bakugo’s jaw tightened, his entire body trembling with barely contained rage. He wanted to lash out, to reduce the entire building to ash, but the sight of you—still pale, still weak—kept him anchored.

You shifted slightly, your hands numb from the ropes biting into your wrists. Despite the fear gnawing at your resolve, you forced yourself to speak. “You wont kill me.” Your voice was hoarse, but steady enough to earn his attention.

Moretti’s smug expression didn’t falter. If anything, his predatory smile widened, his piercing green eyes boring into yours with a sinister gleam.

“Of course, you’d say that,” he drawled, his voice low and venomous. “But let’s not play coy. I didn’t kidnap you on a whim. I know exactly what you know.”

You froze, the ropes biting into your wrists as your blood turned to ice.

“That’s right,” Moretti continued, circling your chair like a vulture. “You know where my daughter is. The one thing the police couldn’t break out of you, even when you testified. You kept that little secret buried, didn’t you? To protect her, I assume. But how long do you think you can hold onto it when his life is on the line?”

Bakugo’s eyes flicked toward you, sharp with confusion and fury. “What the hell is he talking about?”

Moretti’s grin widened as he watched Bakugo’s expression twist with confusion and rage. “You really don’t know, do you?” he said, a mockery of sympathy in his tone. “Oh, this is rich. Japan’s greatest hero, clueless about the woman sitting next to him.”

Moretti turned his attention back to you, his green eyes gleaming with amusement. “You didn’t tell him?” He leaned in closer, his voice dripping with mock disbelief. “You mean to say you’ve been playing the role of a helpless civilian this whole time? That’s cold, even for you, Nova.”

Bakugo’s gaze snapped to you, the weight of Moretti’s words settling between you like a live wire. “Nova?” he questioned, his voice low and dangerous. “What’s he talking about?”

Your stomach churned, but you kept your expression neutral. “Don’t listen to him,” you said quickly.

Moretti laughed, the sound cutting through the tension like a blade. “Oh, no, no, no. Let’s not brush past this. Dynamight deserves to know who he’s risking his life for.”

He straightened, turning to Bakugo with an almost theatrical flourish. “Meet Nova, America’s former golden girl. Once a top-tier hero in her own right—complete with a shiny little quirk she’s kept hidden from you.”

Bakugo’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing into slits. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” Moretti raised a brow, then gestured toward you. “Go ahead, ask her. Ask her about the years she spent hunting down villains like me. About the testimony that put me in prison. About the daughter she stole from me.”

“Shut up,” you snapped, your voice cutting through the air like a whip.

But Bakugo was already staring at you, his crimson eyes ablaze with confusion and betrayal. “Is it true?”

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. 

Moretti clapped his hands together, delighted by the unraveling tension. “Ah, the sweet taste of betrayal. Isn’t it delicious?”

“Shut the hell up!” Bakugo snapped, his glare burning a hole through Moretti.

Moretti’s cold, predatory smile grew as he savored the moment, watching Bakugo struggle with the weight of his words. “And if you thought this was the worst of it, you’re in for a surprise, Dynamight.” He turned back to you, his gaze like a vulture eyeing its prey. “She didn’t just hide her quirk from you, or hide who she was. No, she faked her death.”

Bakugo’s eyes snapped to you, the fury and confusion in his gaze sharp enough to cut through steel. “You were the hero that died in the car accident?” 

Moretti’s laugh echoed around the room, harsh and mocking. “Yes, indeed. That little stunt she pulled after her so-called ‘hero career’ ended. She made everyone believe she was dead—her friends, her family, even the people she’d worked with. But the truth is, she’s been hiding from me. Hiding because she knows I’ll never stop hunting her. Not while I’m still breathing.”

Your heart hammered in your chest. This was worse than you could have imagined. Moretti was unraveling everything you’d fought so hard to bury. Every secret, every lie, coming to the surface in the worst way possible.

Bakugo’s gaze never left you, his expression a mixture of disbelief, anger, and hurt. “Why?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I had no choice,” you said, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay calm. “Moretti was looking for me. He had connections everywhere. I couldn’t let him find me, so I made them believe I was dead. I had to disappear. I couldn’t risk anyone else getting hurt.”

He leaned closer, his grin widening. “Your precious Nova here is the reason I rotted in prison for six years. She testified against me. She took everything from me.”

You struggled against the ropes, your voice steady despite the tremble in your body. “You don’t deserve to find her. After everything you’ve done, after all the lives you’ve destroyed, she’s better off without you.”

Moretti’s smile disappeared, replaced by a dangerous glint in his eyes. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “You don’t get to decide that.”

Bakugo snarled, thrashing against his restraints. “You touch her, and I’ll kill you. I swear to god, I’ll rip you apart!”

Moretti glanced at him, amused. “Oh, its not her you should be worried about Dynamight. No, I’ll break her—piece by piece— as she watches, until she tells me what I want to know.”

He straightened, motioning to the guard still holding the syringe. “And when she does, I’ll kill her anyway. After all, she’s the reason I lost everything. Call it poetic justice.”

The guard stepped closer to Bakugo, gripping his arm, and panic surged through you. “Moretti, if you hurt him, you’ll never find her,” you said quickly, your voice rising.

That gave him pause. He raised a hand, signaling the guard to stop, and turned to you with narrowed eyes. 

“You know I’m the only one who knows where she is,” you said, forcing yourself to keep calm. “If you kill him—or push me too far—you’ll lose any chance of finding her. Forever.”

Moretti’s jaw tightened, his expression unreadable. He leaned in close, his voice a low growl. “Then start talking. Or I’ll make sure you wish I’d killed you instead.”

Beside you, Bakugo’s crimson eyes blazed with rage and desperation. “Don’t tell him anything!” he shouted. “He’s lying—he’ll kill you no matter what!”

But you weren’t ready to give up. Not yet. You had to play this carefully, or neither of you would make it out alive.

Taking a deep breath, you looked up at him. “She’s dead.” 

Moretti froze, his eyes narrowing, his hand still suspended in the air, ready to give another order. The silence that followed felt like an eternity. Bakugo's furious protests faded into the background as Moretti processed your words.

“What did you just say?” Moretti’s voice was low, dangerously calm.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold your ground. “She’s dead. Milly’s gone.”

Moretti’s gaze turned icy, a flicker of disbelief flashing across his features. “You’re lying,” he hissed. “You’re just trying to buy yourself time.”

But the raw edge of fear in his eyes gave him away. He was already questioning everything.

“I’m not lying,” you said, your voice unwavering despite the terror clawing at your chest. “I knew you’d come for her. After I received your little ‘gift,’ I realized I had to act. She didn’t deserve a life with you as her father, so I did what had to be done.”

Moretti’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. “What are you talking about? What did you do?”

“She’s in a place now where you’ll never reach her,” you continued, your words cold, resolute. “A place where you can’t hurt her anymore.”

Moretti’s expression twisted into a snarl. “WHAT DID YOU DO?”

The room seemed to grow colder at the intensity of Moretti’s roar. His fists clenched tightly at his sides, and his breathing quickened as his eyes locked onto you, as if trying to burn a hole through you with sheer force of will.

You held his gaze, knowing full well what you had just said would push him beyond the edge. “I did what I had to do,” you repeated, your voice firm even as your heart hammered in your chest. “She’s gone, Moretti. I made sure she was safe. You will never find her. No one will. She’s in a place where you can’t touch her anymore.”

Moretti’s chest heaved, his anger mounting with each word you spoke. “No,” he spat, his voice low and dangerous. “No, you didn’t. You didn’t do this. You didn’t kill my daughter.”

“I did,” you said, the weight of your lies sinking deep into your chest. “I made sure she was free of you. From your cruelty, your obsession. I couldn’t let her grow up under the shadow of someone like you. You’re a monster, Moretti. And she didn’t deserve that life.”

Moretti’s face twisted in fury, his eyes wild with disbelief. He took a step toward you, the threat of violence hanging in the air. “You’re lying. You’re lying to protect yourself. Tell me where she is. NOW.”

The guard, still holding Bakugo's arm, prepared the needle, but you hadn't noticed. You were focused on Moretti—the man who had destroyed so many lives, including his own daughter’s. You didn’t back down.

“She’s gone, Moretti,” you repeated, your voice colder now. “I ended her suffering. And now you’ll never get your hands on her. Not now, not ever.”

The silence in the room was suffocating, thick with the heavy realization settling in Moretti’s mind. His jaw clenched, his muscles trembling with barely contained rage, but there was something else there, something darker: desperation. He had nothing left to hold onto.

“You think I’ll let you get away with this?” he growled, taking another step forward, his hand reaching out as if to strike you. But something in your eyes, something in your stance, seemed to hold him at bay. For a brief moment, the fury in his eyes faltered.

“You already lost her,” you said, your voice low, cold with the finality of it all. “And now, the only thing left to you is vengeance.”

The guard beside Bakugo glanced nervously at Moretti, who was seething with rage, but it was clear he was struggling to process the depth of what you had just said. His emotions were a storm, a swirl of grief and anger, confusion and disbelief.

“Take her down the hall,” Moretti commanded, his voice sharp and final as the guard moved from Bakugo to your side.

You glanced over at Bakugo, watching his face twist in confusion and fury as he processed the weight of your words. His protests grew louder, his anger mounting with each passing second. But the guard was relentless, yanking you to your feet and dragging you toward the door.

You didn’t know if you’d ever see Bakugo again, but in that moment, you knew this was the only way. Moretti would stop at nothing to get what he wanted—he’d torture you until you spoke. So, you had given him the answer he was desperate for.

Now, all you could do was hope. Hope that while Moretti took his time with you, it would give Bakugo the chance to escape, to find a way out before it was too late.

---

TAGLIST: @emmaafinchh@faetoraa@iissza@theasgardianmexican @cax-per

[definitelynotshouting]

Was just testing out brushes and then ended up drawing an egg… it didn’t even take a second for it to turn into hunger au sketch and then more lol. I’ve never drawn full body people so it’s super messy but the brainrot brainrots. I don’t think when he hatched (?) G was in person shape but this is more just the mental images I get thinking about,, egg

Love the fic so much and have reread it over and over again (for a month I read it in its entirety every single day)

OH MY GODS?????

HOLY SHIT THIS IS AMAZING!!! IM LITERALLY SPEECHLESS HELLO???? THE SYMBOLISM THE OG GRIAN WITHIN THE EGG THE WATCHER!GRIAN WITH HIS SPOOKY EYES IM LOSING MY MARBLES OH MY GOOOOOOOODS

this is INCREDIBLE im actually gobsmacked. Everything abt this is SO FUCKING COOL holy shit thank you so much!!! And the fact that you like the fic enough to reread it that much??? Im literally so insanely flattered rn omg 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 this is SO COOL ITS SO COOL TYSM I ADORE IT OUGHH THE VIBESSSSSS‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ 10000000/10 execution im actually obsessed

[daincrediblegg]

Guys you have to start going to brick and mortar stores again instead of buying every little damn thing online. I am so serious

[summontale]

✸ Summontale Chap 11 // page 3 ✸

Unfamiliar faces from the dark

::Chapters list :: Cover | Previous | Next

Deviantart Tapas

[andreakedavra]

I'M GAGGED!!!!

[bridgeportbritt]

Grand Count Donovan's Residence | Parkshore, SimDonia

Donovan: Ah, the good stuff. Let's have a seat at the dining table, Grayson.

Donovan: So, you wish to talk to me alone. Is this about what I think it is?

Grayson: Well, I guess that depends on what you think.

Donovan chuckles: There's the Grayson I always despised. This respectable polite fascade is all an act.

Grayson: I'm respectable to those who are respectful to me.

Donovan: Oh, I'm sure you are.

Grayson: Look, I love your daughter. Your daughter loves me. We are clearly going to be together, so-

Donovan: Clearly is right! Since you tore her away from her studies to shack up with you at your parent's home instead.

Grayson: Olivia wanted to leave! She didn't want to be pressured to date the Crown Prince. She loves cooking. She just wants to cook. But, that's not good enough for you!

Donovan: Of course, it's not good enough for me. My daughter is a Countess! She's had the best education money can buy. She comes from a long line of Sagertons who helped found this country. She is my only daughter - my legacy! She could've been a princess, she could've been a QUEEN if not for you.

Grayson: See? That's your problem. You don't care about Olivia. Not her as a person. You only care about her as your heir. Newsflash, Olivia doesn't want any of that! Does what she want not count for anything?

Donovan: Olivia will see in time that the path I've laid out for her is best.

Grayson: Well, I highly doubt that.

Donovan: And why is that?

Grayson: Because... I'm asking Olivia to marry me.

Donovan shocked: What?! You... you will do NO such thing! You are not, have never been, and will never be good enough for my daughter! I will not allow it! You poor excuse for a-

Olivia shocked: Daddy?!

Esther: Donovan! What is going on here??

Donovan surprised: Olivia. Esther. I- I didn't know you were there.

Esther: It shouldn't matter if we're here or not! How dare you talk to the man your daughter loves like this! After everything we talked about!

Donovan: Honey, I-

Olivia: Dad, I don't even want to hear your excuse for this...

Donovan: Olivia, sweetie. I am your father and I love you! I can't just watch you throw away your life with some... some Councilman. You deserve so much more.

Esther: Donovan, please!

Olivia: No, Mom. Let me handle this.

Grayson: Liv, are you okay?

Olivia angry: Dad, that is enough! You've been trying to control me my entire life, you walk all over Mom, and you've been horrible and rude to Grayson since the day you met him. He doesn't deserve that. None of us deserve that!

Donovan: Honey, I-

Olivia: No, dad. We're always listening to you, it's your turn to listen. Grayson is an amazing guy who makes me happy. He's sweet, caring, supportive and is literally the nicest guy I've ever met. His whole family treats me like their own. Whether you like it or not, Grayson is going to be in my life. In fact, if you don't like it, YOU don't have to be!

Donovan: Olivia! I think you're being irrational.

Olivia: No, dad! I think I'm finally making sense of everything. Like Grayson said all those years ago. You don't care about what I want. You never have! And since what I want doesn't seem to matter to you, then I guess I don't either. So, you know what? Don't bother coming to my graduation or my wedding or my kids freaking birthday parties or anything ever! I'm done! I don't want you in my life if this is who you're going to be.

Esther: Oh, no. I feared this would happen.

Olivia: Let's go Grayson. I'm sorry, Mom. I tried.

[littlebvtterfly]

PETRA MÜLLER stars in BLOOD RED

Years ago, a little girl in a flannel dress and hiking boots went into the woods to climb trees and returned home to find her mother and father dead. Eight years later, a naked, bloody girl finds herself sprawled in front of the gates of Auradon Prepatory School. At the behest of Prince Ben, Petra Müller is allowed to attend the prestigious school. Two months later, Petra is still not fully comfortable in this new place. Students don't like her, and staff fear her. But there are little glimmers of hope in between. Like Ben, who still rallies around her constantly. And Greer, her new best friend who, similarly to her, doesn't exactly have the same royal blood as most kids at Auradon Prep. And then there's Willa Darling, the girl Petra has been mooning after since the very first day she woke up and found the girl tending to her. Things seem to head in the right direction, even with Ben inviting the children of villains to attend Auadon for a new chance at a better life. Petra finally feels like she is starting to fit in, and she can see a future in this place. That is, until a gruesome murder rocks this usually serene place. And suddenly, Petra realizes that friend and foe alike cannot be trusted.

READ HERE: WATTPAD - AO3 - FF.NET

TAGLIST: @eddysocs @ocs-supporting-ocs @foxesandmagic @veetlegeuse @decennia @hiddenqveendom @arrthurpendragon @luucypevensie @nikosasaki @noratilney @wordspin-shares @oneirataxia-girl @endless-oc-creations @stelstellakidd @andromedalestrange @far-shores @rose-of-oz @bibaybe

[skygremlin]

Some phos art before The End

It's been a wild ride lads 🫡