#nox grumbles

[werewylf]

still fucking laughing at this screencap of wulf from danny phantom,, like i laugh every time i catch a glimpse of my pfp

#it's like he's peeping into my dash #wulf #danny phantom #he's always been my favorite ghost character #nox grumbles #y'all really like this post huh

[sentientcave]

Heavy Weighs the Crown

Sometimes a Bearimy is many moons, and sometimes it's just a couple days! Do not expect this sort of pace to continue though this chapter was most of the way finished when I posted the first one.

Chapter 2 - Familiar and Forgotten

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Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, No Y/N, Some exposition, Reader's dad (deceased) was a real piece of work, Noncon kissing, Alcohol mentions, Smoking mention, Reader descriptions kept as neutral as possible but keep in mind that she is a character to me and does have a specific appearance so things might slip through.

~5.2k words

You don’t say much for the rest of the journey.

It’s not far, really, only an hour or two from the bridge in the woods, and your anxiety seizes you so completely that you can do little more than smile wanly at Kyle’s jokes and Johnny’s attempts to flirt with you. Ghost stays as quiet as you do, a comforting spectre of familiarity walking by your side.

The city is much like you remember it, but there’s life now, where a grim shadow hung over the people before. Windows are thrown open, laundry hangs on lines spanning between houses, brightly coloured clothes flapping in the breeze like flags. Children play in one of the alley’s you pass by, kicking a ball between them, although they stop to watch you pass, eyes growing big, collecting at the edge of the street so they can stare for longer. People begin to gather at the peripheries everywhere, the gentle roar of many hushed voices drowning out all else. It seems that the people here still recognize you, although you’re not sure if it’s by your face or the company that escorts you along.

The castle looms over the city, tall, imposing walls made a little friendlier with blue and silver banners hung from the parapets, the oppressive air lessened, but not entirely erased. You think that nothing could make the castle look truly welcoming— It never has been to you, not even when you did call it home.

Ghost looks at you as you approach the dark stone walls, and puts a big hand on your thigh. “Olright?” he asks quietly.

You nod, swallowing thickly as Nox’s claws scrape over the wooden drawbridge. It feels like the palace means to devour you whole, the shade of the main courtyard matching your somber mood. It’s greener than you remember, a raised garden bed full of flowers and a few small trees sits in the center of things now, directing traffic coming in around in a circle rather than every which way. There are gardens on the flat roofs of some of the outbuildings too, where they can catch more light despite the looming walls.

Nox stops in front of the stairs up to the main door, and Ghost lifts you down easily. When you look up, you notice there are people gathering around the main courtyard too, a gentle susurrus rising up around you like the wind. A stable hand approaches to take Kyle's horse, stumbling over his feet, too busy staring at you to watch where he's going.

"Standin' around with their gobs open," Johnny grumbles. "S'like they've ne'er seen a princess before."

Kyle thanks the stable hand when he passes the reigns to him, and offers his arm to you. "Are you ready, sweetpea?" His smile strains at the corners when you look at him. Your own face must be grim indeed.

"I'll have to be," you say, curling your hand around his arm, gathering your skirts with your other hand. You feel small and plain as you ascend on Kyle's arm, dressed simply in clothes you sewed yourself, glad you were wearing your second best skirt at least. Why that bothers you now you couldn't say-- Its not as though you're concerned with making a good impression.

Kyle leads you into the hall of judgment, where your father used to take petitions and settle disputes. It's different here too-- There are benches for supplicants to sit while they wait, and a few desks set to one side of the ante chamber, where clerks speak to citizens in hushed voices, helping speed along the process. There aren't very many people there really, it's not the tired crush of hollow eyed people clamoring for attention from a disinterested king now. Its organized, efficient, fair-minded. You can't help but approve.

John Price sits on the dais, listening to the man in front of him, but his stone-faced attention breaks when he looks up and sees you. He stands and hops down the steps, touching the man's arm. "I will send a hunting party to deal with your manticore problem," he promises. "But if you'll excuse me…" his blue eyes lock onto you, sweeping down and back up to your face.

You feel pinned in place by the intensity of those eyes, Kyle's presence by your side not enough to melt the cracking ice that settles around you.

"Princess!" John greets you enthusiastically, arms wide as he strides across the hall, meeting you in the middle. "Welcome home. I trust your journey was a pleasant one? It's a nice day for a ride through the countryside." He looks good, although there's silver in his beard and glittering by his temples that was never there before, and a plain silver circlet on his brow. He dresses the same as you remember, for comfort and practicality rather than for fashion, and he still fills out his clothes in much the same way, his broad, powerful body unchanged despite his new vocation.

"A better day for tending to the garden," you say. "But Sir Garrick rather insisted on the ride."

John smiles at you warmly, and Kyle wordlessly pulls away from you, leaving you standing before John alone. You're pulled into an embrace before you know what's happening, oak-solid arms crushing you to his chest. He pulls back enough to look at you, but he doesn't let you go. The pleasant tobacco and warm spice scent of him engulfs you, caged in his arms while he studies your upturned face. "You're more beautiful than I remember," he says. "It's good to see you."

You open your mouth to respond, but he seizes the opportunity to kiss you. Not a chaste press of lips to your cheeks, which would have been an appropriate greeting between two people of your status, but a kiss, a real one, his mouth slotting over yours like you were reuniting lovers rather than near-perfect strangers.

He kisses you for a long moment, lips moving against yours possessively, long enough for the room to grow unbearably silent around you, shame twisting with a childish flame rekindled the instant he put his hands on you. You push against his chest, and he finally comes to his senses, not releasing you or giving you more space, but at least ending the kiss, letting you breathe and sort out your conflicted feelings.

“Why did you do that?” you ask him, voice low and breathless, even if you would prefer to shout it, or perhaps punctuate the question with a slap.

“Because I wanted to,” he says pleasantly, smiling in that infuriating, cheeky way he used to when he caught you watching the knights practising from the palace windows. “I think it was long overdue, don’t you?”

“No!” You don’t want to admit, considering your age, that he’s stolen your first kiss, like it was something owed to him instead of yours to give when you chose to, and you certainly don’t want to admit that you liked it. You don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of the people still watching either, which is undoubtedly why he chose this as the place for your first meeting, where you would be cuffed by propriety, giving him advantage over you. Kings didn’t have to worry about propriety— Who was there to scold them for bad behaviour?

Had John ever worried about that sort of thing? Perhaps that was why your father had so militantly kept him away from you, not because of the threat to the crown, but the threat to your virtue. A man that would so casually waltz past all social convention would find no resistance from a sheltered, shy princess. Perhaps if you had been more bold— Perhaps if you were more bold now you would be able to tell him off.

“I don’t appreciate being plucked from my home and manhandled by you and your knights,” you hiss, plucking courage from thin air. You push against his chest again, and this time he lets you go, but it only makes you angrier, because you both know he only did so because he chose to. “What do you want, John? Let’s attend to business so I can leave as soon as possible.”

He glances behind you, at his knights, an eyebrow raised. “Well, you certainly aren’t going anywhere tonight, are you? We can chat properly over the evening meal.” He sweeps you along, a hand between your shoulders, where his thumb touches bare skin, toying with the edge of your shirt. “I’ll show you to your room, hm? You can wash up and change, if you’d like. Although I must say, this country mouse attire looks rather sweet on you.”

“I don’t think any of my old clothes will fit anymore,” you say tartly. You’re certainly not the weak, spindly thing you used to be, the sapling struggling to grow in your father’s shadow. Your time with Kate has done you good, made you stronger and filled out soft curves. Joy is expansive, and it takes up space that you never would have dared to occupy before.

“Of course not,” he says. “I’ve had new things made for you. Gaz’s sister reached out to Kate for your measurements.”

“Why would she— You had no right to ask for such a thing!” you say hotly. Now that you’re alone in the hallways, you feel more at ease speaking your mind.

He’s unperturbed by your anger, still smiling. “Perhaps not. But I thought it important to stand ready, should you ever decide to come home.”

“This is not my home any longer.”

John hums, his hand sliding down to your hip, tugging you closer to his side. “This will always be your home, princess,” he says matter-of-factly, like there’s no room for argument, the way he sees it.

He tries to follow you into your room, but you quickly shut the door in his face, nearly hitting him. He manages to jump clear, and you can hear his laughter on the other side. You’re getting a bit tired of these men thinking that it’s funny when you hold your ground against them, but you’re not yet sure how to get them to listen when they (and especially John) are so used to getting exactly what they want. It strikes you that you’ll probably have plenty of time to figure it out, since you don’t think you’ll be going home as soon as you'd like.

Kyle and Johnny seem like your most likely allies. And perhaps Ghost, since he told you more than he was supposed to already. Anyone else would be too worried about drawing the king’s ire and getting in trouble or losing their jobs, but those three aren’t just his knights. They’re his friends too.

And as far as you’re concerned, friends don’t let friends keep women imprisoned for indeterminate amounts of time.

You wash up, and parse through the closet for something to wear, frowning slightly at your options. There’s nothing wrong with any of the dresses you find— Everything is beautiful, elegant, well-made, in colours that suit your complexion, made of gorgeous, rustling silk. But they also all have closures at the back, long rows of delicate buttons that will be a nightmare to do up yourself. After so many years living independently, you resent the idea of someone having to help dress you. Perhaps that was why John tried to follow you, so he could be there to offer a hand.

How altruistic of him.

You fantasize about kicking him hard in the shins with the work boots that you sadly left at home, and choose a dress in a deep plum colour, getting as dressed as you can. You consider waiting to ask whoever comes to collect you for dinner, but you suspect that that might be John. You’re just about to wander out into the hallway to see if you can find a member of the castle staff to aid you, when you hear a shout outside, and laughter.

You press one hand to you chest to keep the dress from falling away from your skin inappropriately, and peer over the edge of the balcony. Johnny, Kyle and Ghost are in the courtyard below, Ghost and Kyle sitting on the fountain edge, and Johnny doing a dance that seems to be entirely hopping and kicking, while balancing a knife’s point on the tip of his finger.

“Excuse me,” you call down, smiling as prettily as you can muster. Johnny stops dancing and drops his knife entirely, but blessedly doesn’t try to catch it. “Could one of you give me a quick hand? This dress has so many buttons.”

They look at each other for a moment, and volunteer as one, Kyle and Ghost immediately falling into bickering over who should help you. Johnny looks at the ground and up to you a few times rather than fight with the others, and takes a running leap, fingers catching on the balcony floor. He swings a few times before popping up, catching the railing and clambering over with surprising grace. “I would be happy to help ye, sweetpea. An’ Ah’m sorry abou’, er, lickin’ yer wrist earlier. Was a wolf awl mornin’, cannae always shake the compulsion straight after a shift.”

“Apology accepted,” you say, reaching up with both hands and scratching the stubble under his chin gently. He leans into your palms with a groan, letting you guide him down to your level so you can kiss the tip of his nose. “I know you’re a good boy, Johnny. You were just excited.”

“I was,” he admits, cheeks turning a little pink. “They awl met ye before, and they talk about ye sometimes, ye ken? An’ yer even nicer an’ bonnier up close. Ah’m glad I didna try to lick yer face. Ye didnae look very happy with Price doin’ it.”

“He was very forward. It’s not the sort of thing I appreciate. I don’t intend to let him walk all over me just because he’s the king now.” You release Johnny’s jaw and turn so he can get to work on the buttons, pulling your braids out of the way over your shoulder. “It seems like he’s a little too used to getting his way.”

“Ah, weel, he’s stubborn as awl hell, sweetpea. No’ really his fault, he’s just righ’ more of’en than no’, ye ken? An’ when yer never wrong, ye never learn ta compromise.”

“Surely he’s not always right,” you say. “No one’s infallible.”

He laughs, fingers stalling against your back. “Yer righ’ of course. But Ah’m never the one to catch the old man bein’ wrong. So I dinnae ken if he admits it. I would be surprised.”

“Do you know what he wants from me?” you ask. “It seems odd that he let me live in peace all these years, only to drag me back now.”

“I dinnae ken awl the details, princess. Figure it’s sommat ta do with yer cousin raisin’ an army over across the western border, aye? Probably wants ye to scold the wee rascal for him.” He continues buttoning, and then stalls again. “Aw shite. Missed one.” You feel him begin to undo the buttons he was just working on.

You press your fingers to your mouth to stifle a giggle. “Sorry, I’m distracting you. Shouldn’t be asking so many questions.”

“Aw no, I dinnae mind none. S’nice ta talk ta ye. Always thought princesses’d be all stuck up and snooty. But yer no’ at awl. Ahve been ta yer story hour at the market once or twice too. Think it’s nice ye take pity on us buggers that cannae read well. An ye choose good stories.”

“I’ve never seen you there,” you say.

“Usually go in on four legs. No one minds another mangy dog, so long as I don’t get too close or growl at the bairns. Can hear better tha’ way too, aye? Blacksmith always let me lay down beside his shop.” He marches two fingers across your shoulder playfully. “Awl done.”

“Thank you, Johnny.” You turn to look at him again, regarding him thoughtfully. It doesn’t take much to turn him from a large, dangerous man to an eager to please puppy. Something to tuck into your pocket for later.

“Ye can call me Soap, if ye like. The lads do, most of the time. An’ the boss man. But Johnny is good too. Like hearin’ it from ye.” He looks a bit bashful, twisting his fingers together absently now that he has nothing else to fuss with, bright blue eyes cast down and half hidden by his long, dark lashes. “Ah ken it’s no’ what yer hopin’ for, but I hope ye stay a while. S’nice. Feels like there’s an empty space around here, and ye’d fill it an’ then some.”

“I’ll think about it,” you say. “I’m sure it mostly depends on how angry your, um, boss man makes me.”

“He’s no’ a bad sort.” Johnny instantly leaps to John’s defense, a touch of anxiety colouring his voice. He wears every emotion on his sleeve, another useful something to know. “Been good ta me, when lot’s of folk think I’m no’ much more’n a monster.”

“I’ve never heard of a werewolf that can shift at will like you do,” you muse. “You must have remarkable self control.”

Something dark flits across his face, but he does his best to hide it behind his crooked grin. “Naw, no’ really. S’a story, but no’ one I want ta tell righ’ now.”

“That’s alright,” you tell him gently, placing your hand on top of his. His knuckles are rough, scarred from a lifetime of hitting things hard. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But I’ll listen, if you do want to talk.”

“Yer goan ta turn me intae a big softie at this rate,” he says, waving off your words with a laugh. “Come oan, Sweetpea. I’ll walk ye ta dinner. Figure ye know the way, but Ah’m told it’s polite to escort a lady.”

“Very polite,” you assure him, placing your hand on his offered arm. “Thank you, Johnny.”

His grin is infectious, and he puffs up his chest slightly, pleased as punch to receive your approval. You descend the stairs, picking up your skirts with your other hand so they don’t drag, and John appears at the bottom of the steps, his expression turning carefully, diplomatically blank when he sees you on Johnny’s arm.

“Perfect timing,” he says. “I was just about to come get you. Thank you, Soap, I can take her from here.”

“How very kind!” you return, gripping a little tighter to Johnny’s arm so he doesn’t run off just yet. “Johnny was nice enough to help me with my dress. All these buttons— I had no idea that button closures were the style these days.”

John’s eyes narrow just the slightest bit, like he’s not sure if you’re being earnest or not. “Nor did I,” he says evenly. Liar.

“It can be so hard to keep track of these things.” You send Johnny another bright smile. “Will you be joining us?” you ask sweetly.

Johnny looks at John uneasily. “Oh, n-no, I dinnae think—”

You curl into him slightly, placing your hand on his chest, drawing his attention back to you and away from the disapproving frown that’s beginning to form on John’s face. “Oh, nonsense. In fact, would you mind fetching Kyle and Ghost as well? We all had such a pleasant afternoon, and I feel like we’ve only just begun catching up.”

Johnny’s fingers catch on the lace hemming your trailing sleeve, his cheeks pink and eyes focused on your face. “Oh, aye, anything ye like, princess.”

“Thank you so much Johnny. You have been so helpful today. I really appreciate it.” You release him, and he dashes off without a second thought or glance to John for approval. “What a sweet boy he is,” you say to John as you flit to his side, all innocence, well aware that Johnny can still hear you. “Shall we?”

John gives you a searching look, still not certain if you’ve disrupted his plans on purpose or just by being far too sweet. “I had intended for dinner to be just the two of us.”

“Now John, that would hardly be appropriate,” you lightly scold. “The two of us, alone without a chaperone? What would people say? If I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to put me in a compromising position.”

His lips twitch under his moustache, the ghost of a smile appearing in his eyes. “Perish the thought. Didn’t think of the implication, is all.” He opens the door to what had once been your father’s private dining room, but hesitates in the doorway. “Perhaps we should wait for the lads,” he says thoughtfully. “Since you’re concerned with the optics of being alone with me.”

You raise your eyebrows. “They’ll be along in a moment, no? I’m not sure what you think could happen in a few minutes, but I’m sure you’re capable of behaving yourself for that long.” You sweep past him, unconcerned, and he follows, letting the door fall shut behind him, the latch clicking shut loudly in the otherwise silent room. You cast about for a conversation that you can fling up between the two of you like a flimsy shield, your tongue suddenly heavy again. John has a way of sucking up all the air in a room, and he feels nearly as large and imposing as Ghost in a confined space like this. You don’t feel safe like you would with Ghost. You feel like a wobbly-legged fawn caged in with a blue-eyed wolf.

And you would feel less like that if you were in here with the man who really is a blue-eyed wolf. You don’t think the man standing before you will melt with a few kind words or a soft touch. He’ll only take it as permission to push you further.

“Your inexperience is showing,” John says conversationally, taking a step toward you.

You take a hasty step back. “How so?”

He takes another step forward. You take another back. The pattern repeats until he has you backed up against the mantle. “A lot can happen in just a few minutes, sweetpea.” His thick fingers curl around your jaw, forcing you to face him when all you want to do is sink into the floor or vanish entirely. “Could do anything I liked to you, alone like this. You’re right to be cautious.” His hand slides lower, callouses brushing your skin, raising goosebumps along the back of your neck and prickling all the way down your spine. His palm rests on your throat, so he can measure the nervous flutter of your pulse. You swallow nervously, and you know he can feel it.

Still, he doesn’t squeeze, and there’s no threat in his eyes. Worse, there’s a promise, and heat that could spark into a blaze with the slightest provocation.

“It’s a good thing you’re a man of honour, then.” You mean it as a challenge, a reminder of the rules of engagement. You came prepared for a game of chess, and he’s knocked all the pieces onto the floor and lunged at you across the board. Your words come out whisper soft, plaintive instead of confident.

“A good thing indeed.” He takes a step back, and then another, his hand falling away, leaving you standing by the mantle, clinging to it for support.

It was a good thing the fireplace is cold, this time of year, or you might be tempted to throw yourself in just to save yourself the embarrassment of being so completely set off balance.

“Here.” John returns to your side, this time leaving enough space for you to breathe, and offers you a glass of wine. White wine, like he remembers your preferences somehow. Your fingers brush his when you take the glass, and you try not to shake from the force of whatever it is that he stirs up in you.

It’s too vast to identify, and threatens to engulf you, swallow you whole. It’s an ocean, as deep and blue as his eyes, and you’re already struggling to stay afloat. You feel like the only things keeping you from drowning are your righteous anger and sense of self-preservation. But recognizing the danger he poses to you, to your freedom, if not your life, doesn’t pluck you from the water or save you from the circling shark. You don’t know how to do that. You’re not sure if you want to.

“I should apologize,” he says gently. “For greeting you the way I did earlier. I’d dreamt of our reunion so many times that it felt like the most natural thing in the world, kissing you like that. I should have better kept myself in check.”

You sip your wine. It’s sharp and not too sweet, just the sort of thing you used to like, and many times better than what you’ve had for years now. But the taste only reminds you of things best left forgotten, sour remnants of a life you wished to leave behind. Even this room, redecorated to another man’s preferences, feels as oppressive as your father’s presence in life.

Maybe it’s the weight of the crown, that bends and twists even the most upright men, because you already see the makings of a tyrant in John. So used to getting his way already, he expects you to fall into line, do as your told, take your rightful place at his side, on his arm.

In his bed.

“Are you going to?” you ask.

He’s confused by that, a frown settling between his brows. “Going to what, sweetpea?”

“Apologize. Saying you should apologize is not the same as actually being sorry.”

He’s entirely taken aback by that, rendered speechless. It’s probably been years since anyone checked him like that, and it sends a bit of a thrill through you to be the one to do so. He has the advantage in this battle you’ve waged against him— He’s larger and stronger, he claims authority that you’ve rejected, he has allies where you have none— but you’ve still managed to strike a blow, with honesty as your only weapon.

The other three men finally join you, snapping the tension in the room, clearing it away like cobwebs.

Well, most of the tension, anyway. You sit between John and Ghost, rather than take the chair opposite John. You have no desire to be forced to bear that heavy stare for the entire meal. Kyle and Johnny sit opposite you, and you maintain light conversation with the two of them. Ghost sits to your right, his mask tipped up enough for him to eat, his scarred mouth and jaw visible to you for the first time. His gloves are off too, revealing broad, powerful hands littered with fine scars, and a few deep ones too. Most of them are obviously blade wounds, but there’s a particularly deep one, a chunk of missing flesh between his thumb and forefinger on his left hand that keeps drawing your eyes back.

“Me’n Nox ‘ad a misunderstandin’ when we first met,” he says, unprompted, noticing your glances. “She took a chunk outta me. Was a good thing she was still small, or I’d’ve lost my whole ‘and.”

“Small!” Johnny says with a snort. “The wee beastie was bigger than me!”

“You were a runt,” Ghost chuckles, “but I s’pose she was still plenty big. Got ‘er talons sunk pretty deep in my thigh too. Got ‘er to listen to reason in the end though. She din’t know I was tryin’ to ‘elp.”

You see that same darkness in Johnny’s eyes as earlier, so you change the subject, asking about a burn on Ghost’s wrist. He starts in on a tale of hunting an outlaw mage, with plenty of interjections from Kyle, and then Johnny as well, until he gives up trying to tell it, and lets the younger men take over.

You feel his attention on you for a while after that, like he knew what you did and why.

John is pensive, still ruminating on what you said, quiet over the meal. It must not be that great a change from usual, because it doesn’t seem to bother the other three in the least. He insists on walking you to your room once the hour grows later, however, and leans against your door frame.

“You’re right,” he says, catching your hand so you can’t go inside and shut the door in his face for a second time that day. “I didn’t apologize. And I’m not sorry. I know I should be, and I won’t do it again, but I can’t say I feel all that badly about it.”

It’s something, at least. A concession, if not an apology. “Thank you, John.” He doesn’t let go of your hand, and his thumb is rubbing distracting circles over your knuckles. “Is there something else?”

“We never talked business.”

“No. But I know what you want, John, and the answer is no. I want to go home, I have a life to return to, and I don’t belong here any longer.” The disappointment is clear on his face, but he only nods. You continue, encouraged by his silence. “I will, however, make a public statement of support, in whatever way you need. I imagine my cousin will wish to send a witness, to ensure I’m not being coerced. I will stay until then, and then you will allow me to go home. Is that sufficient?”

He thinks about it for a moment, his thumb tapping against your hand now. “I suppose it will have to be.”

“Then it’s settled. Goodnight, John.” You try to pull your hand free, but he tightens his grip just enough to keep you anchored to him.

“Wait.” He tugs you a step closer. “May I kiss you?”

You roll his request around in your mind for a moment. He’s willing to accept that you won’t marry him, without so much as a fight. You can’t deny that you want to say yes either, and you have just enough wine in you to make you bold, but not reckless. “One kiss,” you reply. “No more than that. And then I am going to bed.”

He cups your face and stoops to meet you, pressing his lips to yours tenderly, without any of the brash possessiveness of earlier. Just sweet and slow, coaxing you to open up for him. You relax into his touch, parting your lips, a soft little whine escaping your throat, pulling an answering groan from him as he licks into your mouth. You have to grip his wrists just to stay upright, the sound turns your knees and resolve to jelly, the taste of good whiskey and smoke from his after dinner cigar lingering on your tongue as he pulls away.

His eyes are fever-bright, and his breathing ragged as you release each other. “Goodnight, sweetpea,” he says softly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You slip into your room and lean against the door, knees still weak, desire simmering inside you. The kiss had been a bad idea, because all you can think of now is asking for another, and another, and another.

***

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - Divider by CafeKitsune

#Fantasy AU #cod mw fanfiction #x reader #x fem reader #141 x reader #heavy weighs the crown #Uh oh sweetpea

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skelles with a partner with ADHD

imagine, s/o wonders if they forgot something and realizes they're shaking, and then says "oh that's right, I forgot to eat". I think this scenario with Oak would be interesting, I imagine them talking and they say "what were we talking about?" and Oak "I don't remember either"

This post is for all my ADHD pals (myself included). Some of these might or might have not happened in real life lol.

Undertale Sans - That's the second time you come back home because you forgot something. He's waiting just behind the door with all your missing things and puts them in your arms. He's so used to it with Papyrus than it's quite normal.

Undertale Papyrus - How are you surviving. You were going to go to the grocery store when you both saw flashing pretty colours on a shop facade. That's ten minutes you're just staring at the pretty colours now, hypnotized. By the time you finally get tired of this, you completely forgot what you were doing, it's dark outside and all the shops are closed. Well, shit. Guess you're eating in a restaurant outside because the fridge is empty.

Underswap Sans - You were driving and got distracted, and now you're both somehow in the middle of a random forest with no idea where you're supposed to go. Blue is slowly losing in mind, and eventually, he can't take it anymore. He bursts the door open and starts running at full speed in the forest, just screaming, to calm down. You try to follow him, but then you can't find the road back to the car and decided to just sit on a rock and wait :')

Underswap Papyrus - That's the third time he whines now. Like a puppy. You're focus on a video game for three hours now. He's invisible now. Not only it's his video game in the first place but now he wants attention :( Please? Just a pet? :( He's sad boy.

Underfell Sans - He asked you three times if you had your keys before driving to your vacation place for three hours. In front of the house you rent, you start to pat your pockets, more and more distressed. Red stares at you. You smile apologetically at him. He takes a deep breath and walks behind the house. Then screams and throws bones into the wall. Before coming back, calm, down and telling you they're going back to fetch the keys.

Underfell Papyrus - He flicks you behind the head every time you lose focus. You said you would do your taxes and not let you get distracted. He's taking his role very seriously. He's just standing behind you, arms crossed. You can feel his breath on your neck. Do. Your. Taxes.

Horrortale Sans - So he followed you, not realizing you had no idea where you were going. Since you thought he knew where you two were supposed to go. It takes an hour and three times to pass in front of the same shop for Oak to ask where you're going. And you, just blinking back, saying you thought he knew where you were going. Awkward silence. After a while, you decide to call Willow to ask him where you two are supposed to go...

Horrortale Papyrus - You absolutely wanted to paint and nothing else, so Willow struggled to buy you art stuff in the shortest time. As soon as he gets home, you blink at him and just say "Oh I changed my mind, I like to draw now." Willow takes a deep breath, then turns around. FINE. If you won't have your painting hyperfocus now, he will because it was damn expensive and it's not going to waste.

Swapfell Sans - He's tired of watching you rambling and pacing so he just makes your soul blue and suddenly change your gravity. You fall on your stomach like a dying whale and can't move from the ground now. Nox sighs with relief. You're stressing him out, he needs a break.

Swapfell Papyrus - That's three times he calls you to eat. He grabs your book, climbs a chair, sticks it to the ceiling with super glue, and says you can have it again only after you come and eat. You obey, grumbling. You're not even hungry. You make two steps and collapse because you have actually no energy. Ah.

Fellswap Gold Sans - You keep moving in bed, randomly kicking him in your sleep as you can't keep your legs still. After one too many kicks, he hisses and bites your leg with all he has, which for sure wakes you up. Wine huffs and goes back to sleep like nothing happened. You're too in shock to even proceed what just happened.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - You're fighting to know who has the less anxiety today to move your ass from the couch and go to the grocery store. None of you is ready to move and procrastinate the best you can so the other goes. Coffee tried to yeet you out with his magic but you held on to him and it didn't work. Now you're having a stare battle. You sure you will win.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

[cats-obsessions]

Dark Urge/Gortash

Just a Drabble I cant get out of my head- Durge is able to recover more of his memories along his travels back to Baldurs Gate, and Orin doesn’t bother telling Gortash that her kin has returned.

“Hello, Lordling”

The Dark Urge, Son of Bhaal, Nox leans back against the old, mahogany desk in his dear friend, Gortash’s office where he’s been waiting, ever patiently, for the tyrant to arrive.

It’s luxurious to a point Nox had once found gaudy, but the room gives him a warm feeling in his chest now.  Some parts of his memories echo through his empty brain as mere feelings and impressions. Some remain vivid, yet the bulk of what he could access shows glimpses of his life only in the months before Orin’s attack, but he knows they go deeper. Flashes of late night scheming, shared heists, interrogations, pools of blood, carefully plotted assassinations, then, the smell of avernus clinging to their skin amidst a first kiss. All of it went back to him- Gortash, not Bhaal. Not his fathers wishes or the Urge or even the temple. Everything in Nox’s empty brain was bringing him here.

He let his companions greet the new archduke on their own, but he watched from the shadows, the disappointment in Gortash’s eyes betraying the tyrant, but this was a meeting better had in privacy. The very same newly coronated archduke stands in front of him now for the first time in only the gods know how long.

“Fuck off,” Gortash grumbles, a tight frown on his face. The large double doors of the office swing closed behind him. As their eyes meet, Nox can see the extent of exhaustion that permeates the tyrant’s being. Circles much darker than usual shroud his near-black eyes. His hair had grown in the past two months, resting on his collarbones in disarray. Even the way he breathes sings of discontent.

Nox tilts his head, unmoving from his spot on the lord’s desk “Not the welcome home I was hoping for. I can understand your anger, but-”

“-Orin” the duke hisses sharply, “I have better things to do than this. As do you. Make yourself useful for once.”

Orin. Something in Nox’s chest sinks with the realization, “She’s been mocking you with my face? Gods- I’m going to kill that inbred little bitch the second I see her” he growls.

That earned a raised eyebrow from Enver, but the duke keeps wary eyes trained on his assassin “I’m not playing your games this time” he sighs.

“I assure you, Enver, I am not here to play games.”

Nox watches as Gortash moves across the room to his liquor cabinet against the wall, fine wood gilded in gold. The duke’s eyes stay trained on him, even as he begins to pour a glass of fine, amber whiskey. “Yes, yes, you will slash me in two, bathe in my blood, and what was it-” Gortash pauses to take a long, slow sip, sighing once again “-wear my intestines as a scarf? No matter- all the same, uncouth drabble with you.”

“Not until the end. And not like that. I won’t kill you until- unless we are the last two living in all the realm. First you, then me.” Nox clenches his fingers, his jaw tightening and untightening as he feels the images of Enver’s death set in behind his eyes. The Urge whispers for him to take the Banite now, but he knows better. He takes a slow, deep breath, reaching instinctively to the band around his wrist. He focuses on the feelings to ground himself for a moment before continuing. “I believe that was the promise I made you before- Well, things are hazy- a lobotomy does that to you.”

Enver stops, his glass half raised to his lips as his eyes widen. Nox can nearly see his thoughts, debates. He’s questioning if Orin could have such knowledge, if Orin could keep calm this long in a conversation, if Orin could push down her Urge. Nox gives a lopsided smile as he continues. “I don’t remember everything, but I remember you. I came back for you- to stand by you. As we are meant to be.”

It only takes a few seconds for Gortash to cross the room, his glass crashing into the golden tray below it, well abandoned; and Nox smiles, allowing his shirt collar to be grasped tightly in the duke’s hands. Gortash crowds his space, leering at him. There’s venom in his expression, but just below that lies hope.

“Prove it or die.”

How many times had Orin tried this? How many times did she dangle Nox in front of Enver? Did she pretend to return to him just like this? Or simply take his form to berate the tyrant lord? The thought makes the teifling’s blood boil. But he will save that rage for later.

Nox huffs out a chuckle, “If I were Orin, I would have my fucking dagger, and this goddamn tadpole wouldn’t be in my head, Enver.”

His words are enough, and Gortash yanks the collar of his shirt forward until they are pressed against each other, their lips colliding in a rough, forceful kiss that dissolves into desperation. For Nox, it’s familiar and new all at once as if he were acting out a scene he had only seen in a play; he knew Enver’s taste, his smell, the way he was rough and gentle all at once. Yet, feeling it rather than seeing it through a haze of lost memories and confusion was enough to make his knees weak.

“You have a tadpole in your head. You gods damned idiot.” Enver smiled against his lips, words devoid of venom. His hands move up to cup Nox’s face, warm gold of Gortash’s gauntlets pressing against his cheeks. “I have missed you so, my dearest.”

“I missed you, too.” Nox chuckles, and his cheeks warm up as if the words were meant to stay inside his mind- as if he was supposed to be ashamed by such thoughts, but the way Enver pulls him closer makes him think perhaps it is okay not to be ashamed about some things. Perhaps, whatever lingering worry circles in his mind from before does not matter anymore.

#I am obsessed with them being so soft to each other and so terrible to everyone else #they’re evil your honor #durgetash #drabble #the dark urge #enver gortash #the dark urge x enver gortash #goretash #bg3 #fic #oc: Nox #someone posted what if lordling was durges affectionate term for gortash that Orin uses to mock his loss #and I’m obsessed #cats thoughts

[https-furina]

omnes una manet nox. | i. vivamus, moriendum est.

cw. always refer to the masterlist. wc. 1.5k words.

detective's notes. here we are, the start of an era - take this as my 300 followers celebration. this chapter sets more of a scene and introduces the vast amount of personalities on our guest list.

chinju forest carries an aura unlike no other, bewildering to even the natives when it's compared to other sights in inazuma; from tsurumi island's mysterious fog to watatsumi island's mystical shrine, there is nothing that compares to the simplicity of chinju forest. flora that glow a turquoise blue in the dark of the forest with trees that tower and block out daylight and streams of fresh water that trickle between cracks in the rocks, chinju forest is indescribable with mere words. located at the heart of the forest stands the centuries old home of the kamisato clan, renown in inazuma for their glory and power. they're hidden away, distant from society and the prying eyes of strangers - just as they like it. so much so, that it felt odd for the kamisato siblings to host a social gathering at their beloved home. as heads of the yashiro commission, social events were not out of their line of work but yet it felt unfamiliar to see a courier scurry away from the estate with invitations filling their satchel. the younger sister reasoned that it was a gathering to celebrate the lift of the raiden shogun's tyranny, the sakoku decree opening up business to the rest of teyvat whilst the vision hunt decree's absence meant that many inazumans would no longer live in fear once more. in order to gain her older brother's approval, she offered that the gathering could be utilised for her brother's business matters, inviting some of the richest business people to wander teyvat.

the first guests to arrive at the hour of the gathering belong to the land of the archon of wisdom and verdure. they cling to each other in familiarity, a young green haired girl by the name of collei stuck at the sides of a taller, fox eared male and another male with shaggy silver hair. nilou keeps close to the akademiya's scribe and his expressive roommate, eyes of verdigris shades that stare around the wonders of chinju forest in a mild amazement buried by fear.

"what a place to live," tighnari comments amongst the group's silence, filled only by the sounds of their shoes on a stone slab path, "the flora here is astonishing, i wonder if they've had the sense to study it…"

tighnari's voice trails off as he crouches to stroke the leaves of the nearest plant with gloved fingers, the glow of the plant reflecting in his eyes as collei is quick to grab his upper arm, raising him back to his feet.

"master tighnari, we don't know if it's poisonous or not, stop touching the unknown plants!" she exclaims softly, drawing a laugh from the silver haired male as he tugs at tighnari's other arm, much to the fox's dismay when he grumbles under his breath about travelling back to inazuma at a later date. cyno nods in agreement, reassuring tighnari that they'll travel back so that tighnari may study these plants freely.

"collei!" a familiar female calls out into the silence of chinju forest, a brunette girl adorning red stands with three males and another young blonde girl. two of the males are taller, adorning red and blue hair respectively and carrying a tense energy between the two of them as they stand. beside the blue haired male is a shorter male in mint green attire, two small ombre braids framing his face. the blonde girl keeps her hair in pigtails, her eyes moving around the forest anxiously at every little sound, her fear shows clearly.

"amber!" the green haired girl returns in an equally excited voice, leaving the comforting presence of her friends to jog to the brunette, "i didn't know you was attending too?"

"yeah, i got an invitation while i was on a commission with captain kaeya - he invited himself and mondstadt's very own bard, venti!" amber beams, her grin widening ear-to-ear when diluc groans, shaking his head.

"when we get back to mondstadt, i'm teaching you how to say no to morons, amber." he comments lowly and kaeya clicks his tongue, a smug look on his tan face.

"don't be so harsh, master diluc, we're just here to bring more fun!" venti pokes into the conversation in a melodic tune, leaning closer to the redhead.

not far behind the mondstadt and sumeru friends is the elaborate and expensive atmosphere carried by the most notorious from liyue, freshly landed at the shores of inazuma's humid islands. the famous lady ningguang, the tianquan of the liyue qixing accompanied by quiet and gentle ganyu, acting upon being her secretary and the infamous captain beidou of the alcor not far on their tail. gossiping between themselves is the sweet, esteemed opera singer yun jin and the explosive pyro guitarist xinyan followed closely by the young lawyer yanfei, the leader of the arataki gang and the backbone - and sanity - of the arataki gang; arataki itto and kuki shinobu. lurking behind the crowd of famous liyue faces is the ministry of civil affairs very own yelan, stepping off the alcor last.

"is this your first time in inazuma, ningguang?" beidou chirps curiously, noticing the blonde woman's silence whilst the others gasp in awe of inazuma's brilliance. the moon reflects on the waves' ripples, calming yet eerie at what the night may hold in an estate full of strangers. ningguang sends a sly smile in the captain's direction, amused.

"i visited once on a business expedition before the sakoku decree was installed," the tianquan reveals even to the surprise of delicate ganyu, who's wide eyes find the taller lady instantly, "it's whimsical that not a thing has changed on the islands, isn't it? they've not expanded on their architecture or moved forward as society. the electro archon was succeeding at her beloved eternity, freezing her land in time."

yanfei gawks at the illustrious blue mushroom specimens sprouting in the tidal flats as the group walk, earning a confused look from itto.

"does liyue not have sea ganoderma?" he asks shinobu quietly, tilting his head like a lost puppy, "i've never seen someone like them. they're gross - have you ever touched one? man, they're crazy. slimy."

shinobu rolls her eyes, groaning more so to herself as she glances at the bigger male who towers over her. his appearance is terrifying, sparking fear into those who are unbeknownst to his oddly complicit personality, albeit perhaps she could even describe it as dense.

"sea ganoderma are native to inazuma, boss," she enunciates with a shake of her head, "why would i touch sea ganoderma - scratch that, why have you touched sea ganoderma?"

the bulky oni sends the small girl a sheepish smile, gritting his teeth as if he doesn't want to venture further into the story involved in that scenario. shinobu sighs exasperatedly, wondering what he'd do without her now.

already in loyal attendance at the historical inazuman estate is the firework maker's daughter, yoimiya - in all of her explosive glory as she carries crates full of fireworks designed specifically for the kamisato clan, even if she exclusively sneaked some of the naganohara family's special fireworks into the bunch too - and the fontainian news reporter, charlotte, who had arrived in inazuma days prior in an attempt to track the kamisato siblings and interview them before the event. she wanted the gossip, she craved it. she wanted to know how they felt about the decrees being lifted, the sudden shift in their beloved shogunate's political views and the changes in how she runs the country - not to forget their opinions on their own event, was they excited? did they have nerves? charlotte wanted it all, notepad at the ready.

"need a hand there, yoimiya?" thoma asks with a grin as he appears at the blonde's side, having just left the awfully awkward conversation charlotte was subjecting ayato and ayaka to. the blonde looks up at the taller male, returning an equally enthusiastic smile.

"you wouldn't mind, would you?" she laughs albeit a little nervously, realising the consequences of her decision not to enlist help from her father at this event. thoma shakes his head, lifting a crate of fireworks with ease, "just place it down over there, thank you thoma!"

the ginger chuckles, following the bright blonde's orders obediently as the courtyard fills with the rambunctious sounds of their guests from other nations, their faces joyous and filled with amazement as numerous of them comment on the architecture of the kamisato estate - kaveh, collei, yanfei and ningguang are few to name. the noise gains the attention of the infamous pale haired siblings, who venture over with warm, welcoming smiles and their hands clasped behind their backs.

"welcome to inazuma," the taller brother greets them first, his voice a low timbre that rumbles in his chest as he lifts his chin, shoulders pushed back with dignity, "even more so, to the kamisato estate. we hope that your journeys here have all been pleasant."

ayaka nods gently in agreement to her brother's words, eyes of glimmering blue waters hidden in a sheen of mist gaze over her invited guests, lingering on the likes of yelan and shinobu; strong souls with firm skin and an honourable reputation. a gentle silence fills the air following ayato's greeting and ayaka finds it in herself to utter her welcome from glossy lips, her eyes creasing into crescent moons when she tilts her head to the side with a smile.

"welcome to the kamisato estate, my esteemed guests."

taglist.

open - send an ask to be added. @blue-b3rries @maehemthemisfit

© https-heizou 2023.

#— 🔪 omnes una manet nox #genshin #genshin impact #genshin horror #genshin impact horror #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin impact murder mystery #https-heizou #genshin fic #genshin impact fic

[jaxxwrites4you]

Whispers in the Rain - Nox (BHC Swapfell Sans) x Reader

Neither of you had expected rain today, it hadn’t been in the forecast and it had been perfectly sunny when you’d left the house this morning. Unfortunately as soon as the two of you stepped outside of the cafe you’d gone to for lunch it had started to come down pretty quickly. It wasn’t a heavy rain but it didn’t seem like it was going to let up anytime soon so Nox had pulled you under one of the awnings nearby. You giggled as he grumbled under his breath about the weather being ridiculous and ‘why couldn’t it just wait to rain until later’. He shot you a look but you could see the fondness beneath the annoyed glare he was giving you.

You could see it in the softness of his smile, the way his eye lights skimmed over you and made sure nothing was too out of place and that you’re okay. You shivered, whether that was from the cold or his gaze you couldn’t tell. He frowned, moving so that he stood where he could block the rain and wind from hitting you too much. This put him right in front of you and you couldn’t help yourself, slipping your arms around him but under his coat. You sighed from how much warmer you already felt and he chuckled, arching a brow bone as he watched you.

“Something I can help you with, my dear?” He asked you, voice low enough that anyone walking by wouldn’t be able to hear him. You blushed, both from the closeness and the fact that he was most certainly teasing you now. 

“I don’t know.” You giggled, “I’m pretty warm now.”

You squeezed your arms around him lightly which earned you an indignant grumble, although the brightness of his eye lights and the soft violet blush across his cheekbones told you he wasn’t all that upset.

“Cheeky today aren’t you?” He mumbled, “Two can play at that game.”

You squeaked as one of his arms wrapped around your waist, the other tilting your face so that he could press his teeth to your lips in a soft kiss. The blush across your cheeks deepened and he chuckled softly before he pressed another small kiss against the tip of your nose.

“I know I was complaining about the rain,” He murmured, his eyes meeting yours, “But I think I’ve changed my mind.”

You shook your head, lips curled up into a soft smile, “I’ve always loved the rain. The soft little pitter patter of it against the windows is pretty soothing, plus I love any reason to stay home, get cozy and cuddle.”

“Sounds like you.” He replied and pressed a kiss to your cheek this time, “I will admit that the idea of curling up on the couch together sounds nice. Throw in a fresh cup of coffee and a book and you might just be able to convince me.”

You giggled, pressing your own kiss against his cheek this time, “I did pick up some new novels from the bookstore and you know I love when we get to read together.”

He laughed, a soft and unguarded sound that you could listen to forever, bringing his hand from cradling your head to caressing your cheek gently. You leaned into the touch and hummed softly as he pressed another kiss to your lips. 

“Guess we had better get home then,” He said, “I suppose in this instance, taking a shortcut would be alright.” 

You grinned, “You’re really excited about this idea aren’t you?”

The violet flush once again colored his cheekbones and he stumbled over his words for a moment before he cleared his throat.

“I am always excited about quality time with you, my dear.” He said, his grip around your waist tightening, “Hold on tightly now.”

Your arms squeezed around him firmly and in the blink of an eye you were home, the two of you standing in your living room. 

“Now I believe you said something about getting cozy and reading together.” He said, leaning in to press one final kiss to your lips and you giggled. 

Oh yes, you loved rainy days. Especially when you got to spend the day with your boyfriend, cuddled on the couch with your drinks of choice and a good book to read together. The two of you started to doze off on the couch together, snuggled together under a blanket and quietly giggling at one another as you slowly fell asleep. You could only hope for more days just like this in the future.

#jaxxwrites4you #jaxxwrites #bhc nox #swapfell #swapfell sans x reader #sans x reader #undertale fanfiction

[snoozingredpanda]

Day 3: Hate Sex [NOX ; FEM READER]

Words cannot describe how much Nox hated you. You pissed her off in every way, from your sickly sweet voice and kind attitude to your disgustingly gorgeous body.

Ever since you started working with her at the restaurant she was employed at, she’d dreaded going to work, dragging herself down the street in a sour mood.

Just your presence got her irritated and worked up, and it infuriated her so fucking much that one day, in the middle of both of your shifts, she just snapped.

“Mmph!”

Nox’s hand covers your mouth to stop you making noise as she grinds herself against you. Her belt buckle nicks your clothed clit with each movement, sending waves of delicious pleasure across your body.

You’re so confused at what’s happening, but you’re certainly not complaining. Getting fucked by the girl you’ve been pining over for months wasn’t something you were going to pass, even if it was in the back alley of the restaurant on your breaks.

Back against the brick wall and arms around her neck you try to stay quiet as she removes her hand, using it to hoist one of your legs up to have perfect access to your clothed cunt.

She quickly pushes your panties aside, rubbing your wet pussy without an ounce of love. She hated you and she wanted you to know that.

Your nails dig into her neck as she stretches your slippery hole open with two fingers, a lewd squelching sound echoing in the alleyway.

“Slut,” Nox would grumble, before starting a rather brutal ‘come hither’ motion, fingertip pressing to that one perfect spot inside you repeatedly.

“O-oh fuck—!” You gasp out, resting your head back against the wall, grinding yourself down on her hand. You look at Nox’s face for a moment, but she’s focused on the way your greedy cunt sucks up her fingers.

It felt so good, her somewhat thick fingers filling you up better than any cock had. Her stamina was astonishing; her pace never faltered, only increasing ever so slightly.

Nox is feeling all kinds of emotion as she watches your pussy take her. Part of her hates this — you’re such a fucking whore, letting some girl finger you in a dirty back alley. But another part of her loves the way you’re submitting to her without a second thought.

Either way, you’re a slut for her.

The position she had you in was painful against your back but the pleasure of her callous fingers overpowers it. Soon, your abdomen starts to ache as your climax approaches, your whimpers growing more frequent and your need for affection grows.

You want her to kiss you, but she doesn’t even look at you. Your doubt of the situation flies straight out of your head as you reach the brink of orgasm.

“Slut,” she repeats, pulling her fingers out to slap your pussy multiple times, making you cum and squirt all over her pants. Your eyes roll back in ecstasy, lips parting as a moan fails to escape the confines of your chest.

Panting, you rest your head on her shoulder, moaning softly in her ear. Legs wrapped around her waist, you cling to her, letting the effects of your orgasm slowly leave your system.

Nox just stands there, waiting for you to get off so she can go back to work, and clean all of your cum off of her.

But instead, you say, “I love you.”

“What?”

#yandere #oc #x reader #oc x reader #yandere x reader #fem oc #yandere x reader smut #x reader smut #fem reader #kinktober

[winged-midnight]

[ An audio recording is attached. ]

[ There’s a bit of shuffling before Nox’s voice says, “Right. I’m recording.”

“Thank you.” That’s Garnet. “I guess I’ll start with explanation?”

A rougher voice, feminine, growls from the background, “Stop that. Stop the recording.”

“You’re only incriminating yourself further by speaking,” Garnet says calmly. “I’d advise you stay silent.” She pauses. There’s no interruption. So she continues, “This is [full name redacted], otherwise known as Garnet. Current location and time, Eterna City, January 19th, 3:08 P.M. With me I have [full name redacted], otherwise known as Nox, as well as Champion Cynthia of Sinnoh, and an unnamed woman who introduces herself as a member of Team Galactic.”

“Hi,” Nox says weakly.

“Hello,” hums who you can only assume to be Champion Cynthia. “I can confirm the previously stated information.”

“This feels like overkill—” starts the unknown voice again, but it falters almost immediately.

“Anyway,” Garnet says, a little more forcefully, “I was accosted by this woman in Eterna City, and she demanded my research papers. When I refused and requested that she explain why she wanted them, she attacked me with her Glameow, a Pokemon who is among our present company.”

The Glameow meows inquisitively in the background, then is silenced by some rather impassioned shushing.

“I had my Luxray out and he retaliated in my defense,” Garnet continues smoothly, as though she’s just talking about a quick trip to the grocery store. “I recognize that chasing the offender once she tried to run might have been a more…provocative act on my part, but she had mentioned a Team Galactic at that point, which, you must understand, piqued my immediate interest.”

The Team Galactic grunt snarls.

“You’re okay though, right?” Nox asks quietly. 

“I’m fine,” Garnet replies easily. “Is the recording still going?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, thank you.” She inhales deeply, and goes on, “I cornered her and asked about this Team Galactic, and she refused to elaborate. She sent out a Zubat in an attempt to attack me again. I told my Luxray to use Thunder Wave, in an attempt to minimize the damage, but given we were in such close proximity, the attack not only hit the Zubat, but also their trainer. The Zubat is currently recovering and among the present company.”

“I still can’t fuckin’ move,” the grunt grumbles.

“Which is quite fortunate for me. So do you confirm this sequence of events I’ve just described?”

“Fuck you, you attacked me.”

“Firstly, I’m ace. I’ll pass on the fucking. Second of all, I’ll be taking that as a yes.”

“Diversity win,” Nox whispers into the mic.

“The authorities can question me later,” Garnet continues. “However. I have some rather pressing concerns that I’ll need addressed, and questions I’ll need you to answer.”

“And if I don’t?”

“The police are only one phone call away.”

“Hah! The police don’t do jack shit.”

There’s an audible click of high heels on wooden floor. “I’d recommend you answer the questions regardless,” Cynthia says calmly, the hint of a threat hiding just beneath her polite tone.

“...Fuck.”

“...Nox, stop the recording real quick,” Garnet mutters. “Let’s. Get something sorted first.”

“Gotcha,” Nox replies. There’s a soft tap by the mic. ]

[ Recording ends. ]

#the galarcktic #mid stakes pokeblogging #ask to tag

[chirp-a-chirp]

How would the princes (+ Dia) react to their valets being sick?

Aww. And so the princes become the caretakers…

LYNT

Lynt will cover Tino in blankets. Subconsciously, Lynt gives Tino one blanket per apology Tino utters for allowing himself to get sick. So pretty much every available blanket on Colde surrounds Tino. Tino is now more blanket than man.

Lynt is rather insistent on Tino resting. His voice is quiet but unusually stern as he’s worried Tino won’t allow himself to recover.

TOA

Toa will notice Knight being sick before Knight does. Kind of like 24 hours before you get a nasty cold and there’s that tickle/scratch in your throat. Knight’s keen senses hit a blind spot when it comes to admitting he’s sick.

Knight: Toa I’m NOT sick!

Toa: Then explain why there’s snot that isn’t mine in this tea.

Toa gives lots of medicinal tea, goes out of his way to lighten Knight’s workload, lectures on how proper rest is needed to recuperate. And, if Toa thinks it’ll help keep Knight in bed, he’ll offer to feed the peer kitties in his place, or find someone to do it for him.

RIO

Thoma is provided 20 bowls of homemade soup—he gives the Saligian version of chicken noodle or vegetable soup with fresh ingredients from their garden.

Did I say 20 bowls? I meant 10, cause Rio ate half of them to ensure they were the best most hearty flavor combos. A soup from Rio is as warm and comforting as his hugs.

ROY

One of two things happens. Either Roy ensures Grayson is given lots of quiet and space to recover (ie, he’s respectful of Grayson’s privacy) OR he goes into full mother hen mode.

Mother hen mode includes making Grayson scones and herbal teas he can keep down; researching every symptom Grayson has to aid his recovery; taking care of Nox if the illness is extended. He’ll insist on taking over all of Grayson’s responsibilities to ensure Grayson rests. Sherry sees Roy running himself ragged, so she forces Roy to let her help him (“Brother, I don’t need TWO people to take care of!”).

If Grayson tries to return to work before he’s recovered, Roy jokes that he’ll let Sherry bake those get-well cookie’s she’s been clamoring to make. That keeps Grayson firmly in bed.

FENN

Sherry is at Violet’s bedside if Violet is violently ill, changing sheets, taking her temperature, putting a wet cloth on her head. Fenn initially jokes that Violet must have imbibed one too many cups of Luxure blue wine, but he changes his tune when Sherry misses classes and doesn’t come out of Violet’s room for an entire day.

Fenn leaves every conceivable medicine, soothing broth, and potion by Violet’s quarters. He charms Sherry’s professors into not giving her makeup work. He even sets up a date with a man Fenn saw Violet flirting with at a local bar. Sherry allows Fenn in Violet’s quarters to discuss the date.

Fenn: So you see dear Violet, you HAVE to get better. And soon. The date depends on it!

Violet: *Coughs* You’re worried for me, aren’t you?

Sherry: It’s quite obvious he is, hehe!

DIA

There are many mysteries to Jay. No one knows his true age. The amount of wisdom and knowledge collected is on par with Lou. And…he never gets sick. Never.

But, Jay does get tired. Oftentimes, Dia will take advantage of that tiredness to escape to the woods or avoid class. However, if Jay seems tired for multiple days, Dia will grumble and make Jay a cup of tea and a plate of sautéed mushrooms. He’ll forage for mushrooms known for giving bursts of energy. And, if Jay seems particularly tired, Dia will begrudgingly go to class, if only to escape Jay’s exhausted sighs (Jay has been known to follow him in the woods; he does not follow him into class).

The moment Dia goes to class, Jay will suddenly recover all his energy. Jay will laugh and wink at Jasper. Jasper will wink back, fully understanding the lengths a good valet will go to ensure their charge does what he should.

GUY

Jasper is rarely sick. He won’t allow it. A premier valet would never let his master see him in that condition.

But even the heartiest of men have their tells for when their sick. Especially if they work for observant men.

One day, Guy notes that his red coffee is just a tad burnt. Guy looks up from his royal correspondence and sees a bead of sweat dripping from Jasper’s forehead.

“Go to bed.”

“Oh dear, do you wish to keep me to yourself, your highness?” Jasper smirks, discreetly wiping his brow.

“Don’t talk nonsense, Jasper.” Guy points to Jasper’s chambers. “Go.”

“I’m perfectly capable of—“

“That’s an order.” Jasper raises his eyebrows at Guy’s tone. It’s gruff, but rumbling with hidden kindness. “You won’t rest unless I tell you to do so. So I am telling you.”

Jasper bows and begins to leave. “Your Grace—“

“I’m perfectly capable of finishing this work today. Go.” Guy raises his voice, brooking no argument.

“Very well.”

Guy’s eyes remain on Jasper’s retreating form until he’s in his room. Guy sighs quietly, mentally preparing himself to stay up all night to finish the letters he had intended for Jasper to complete.

#court of darkness #voltage games #otome fandom #lynt akedia #fenn luxure #toa qelsum #roy invidia #dia akedia #guy avari #rio voleri

[kaunis-sielu]

Sick: 7

You get split into four groups. No one fights with Natasha when she takes the lead and splits you into teams.

Team one is Hope, Pepper, Kamala, Nebula, Gamora, Felicia lead by Carol. Team two is Jessica, Jane, Jean, Sue, Shuri, Helen, Valkyrie and lead by Okoye. They’re going to stay here, keep working on figuring out a cure. Team three is Jessica Jones, Kitty, Elektra, Kate, Rogue, Storm lead by Natasha. The final team is Wanda, Monica, Jennifer, Doreen, Yelena, America and you’re team leader. You’d been a little surprised that Natasha had decided to put you on a team and not keep you back.

You’re going to the first location you’d found in Georgia.

You work with the other team leads. You want this to be an organized attack, overwhelm them so they can’t back one another up.

“Do we have anyone else we can call?” Carol asks, “in case they do something else while we’re busy at their bases.”

“Do you think we should split into a fifth team?” Natasha asks. It’s been so interesting to work with so many women, there’s been open discussion and no egos to fight with.

Not that Steve isn’t a good leader. He is. It’s just that no one seems to feel comfortable disagreeing with him outside a private conversation.

“We have the Dora.” Okoye offers, “but we cannot leave the king unprotected.”

“Understood.”

“Anyone else?” Carol says and Nat

“I mean there are a few more, questionable, people we could call in.”

“Like?”

“More of the Widows.” You offer and as predicted Natasha says,

“No.”

“Nat, they’re back up.”

“That’s loyal to the highest bidder.” She argues, “they are not an option.”

“We’ll be fine.” Okoye says confidentially, you wish you shared her confidence.

Less than an hour later you have your plan of attack, several Quinjets going to different places, the attacks will happen at the same time so they can’t back one another up. But this also means neither will you.

You split off, each coordinator giving her team the information that they’ll need then the first team takes off. Your team is second so you get changed then head to the med bay.

You know he won’t be able to hear you, or respond in anyway but you need to talk to him. Just like you would in any other mission. When Helen sees you she gives you a sad little smile but leaves you be. You slip onto the bed next to Steve and wrap an arm around his waist.

“Steve. I love you so much. I’ve got this mission that I think is going to save you guys. I don’t know. Nat seems anxious but I think she just doesn’t like the fact that we don’t have some of our heavy hitters. You, Buck, Hulk, you know. The super strength crew. I’m terrified we won’t find what we need but I have to be optimistic. I love you. I’ll be safe. I’ll keep my head on a swivel and I’ll come home. I love you.” You press a kiss to his cheek, one that he’d grumble at if he was awake before he’d kiss you fiercely. Then you slide back off the bed and make your way to the door.

“Nox, we have these for you.” Jemma says, “they connect you to us.” She passes you the glasses case, “kind of like FRIDAY.” She explains, “They’re able to record everything you see and transmit it back here.”

“Hackable?”

“No. Closed circuit, live feed to us. This way we can communicate if we see something we think might be helpful.”

“Love that. Did the first team get theirs?”

“Just in time.” You glance down at your watch then look up at her. “If he gets worse I expect to be told.”

“Are you sure?” Jemma asks and you nod.

“Immediately.”

“Okay.” She agrees and you head out making your way to the hangar. You’re going to get this taken care of and you’re going to get him back.

The plane ride is quiet. You kind of miss the constant bickering between Sam and Bucky. You miss sitting with Steve looking over the plan. You miss checking your weapons with Clint. You miss them.

You land two miles away, Wanda and Squirrel Girl go to the left, one of Doreen’s squirrels scurries ahead to get some intel. You and Photon are going to go in the back if you can as Yelena, Miss America and She-Hulk cause mayhem at the front. Miss America’s ability to open portals and Yelena’s stealth and She-Hulk’s indestructibility makes for a chaotic trio. Doreen relays her intel back to the team and you and Photon move rapidly into the building when the guard rotates. You’re not surprised that the guard is a couple of huge women.

“SG can you get one of your furry friends inside?” You say into your comms unit.

“Copy, Carl is working on it.”

“Carl?” Yelena asks and Monica grins at you. Doreen names all of her regular squirrels but you’re fairly certain that this is the first time Yelena has even met her. You slide the glasses on then wait for Doreen to tell you where the guards are.

“Do you want to try and phase in?”

“I should be able to take you with me.” Photon tells you and you look over at her with a nod.

“We have a rotating group of guards. Almost never a gap in the chain. I don’t think they know we’re coming but there isn’t a lot of gap.”

“Okay, so Photon and I are going in, girls. Make some noise.” That’s when the assault starts. Wanda and Doreen from the side and the rest of the team from the front. Photon grabs your hand and you step through the wall. You squeeze your eyes closed as you step, just in case, but when you don’t meet any resistance you open your eyes again.

“Let’s go.” You tell Monica and the two of you start running. You pause at the corner of the wall and when the woman comes around you touch her and put her to sleep. Before she can hit the ground you and Monica catch her and drag her down the hallway to what your glasses tells you is a closet. After shoving her into the closet you take her badge and slip out of the closet.

You follow the glasses directions to the room that’s using the most power, there you find a giant computer and a what looks like a lab set up.

“Grab what you can.” You tell Photon as the building shakes with a loud boom.

“You might want to get out of there.” Yelena says, “it looks like they’re less interested in protecting the building and would rather just take it down.”

“FRIDAY get the information out of this computer.”

“Just place the bug and I’ll do the rest.” She says as I place the small bug, a literal mechanical bug, onto the computer. Then as the building shakes again you run over to the desk to help Monica shove papers into the bag she’s found.

“Go!” You tell her as chunks of the ceiling start to fall. You have maybe two handfuls of paper left, “get that woman out of the closet and go!”

“I’m not leaving you.” She argues and you glare at her. “Cap’s orders.” Even when he’s not conscious he’s protecting you.

“Nox! Photon! It’s time to get out! Now.” Wanda says over the comms, you and Photon look at one another in concern.

“FRIDAY scan for any other living people in the building.” You tell her as you throw you bag over your shoulder and start running with Monica to one of the exterior walls.

“Just the woman in the closet.” She says as you take a left sprinting back down the halls.

“Can you phase with us both?”

“No.”

“Take her, then come back.” You tell her and when she opens her mouth to argue you stop her, “We don’t have time for this Mon! Go!” You yell yanking the closet door open. Thankfully she listens and after the two of you hoist the woman onto her back she phases through the wall. A spilt second later the wall starts to crumble and a red dome encloses you. Wanda pulls you out of the building so quickly that when you hit the ground you tumble to your feet.

“Meet at the jet.” You tell your team, panting, god it’s nice to be done. “FRIDAY, where are the rest of the teams?”

“Mission successful, the last team with Captain Marvel has Dr. Dedrie.”

“Yes.” You whisper, “Wanda. You’re probably going to need to read a mind later.” You warn her and she nods gravely.

Yelena and Doreen have a couple of captives, along with the woman that you and Monica had brought out of the woods. You all get onto the jet, bring your prisoners to belly of the jet then you head up. You’re so ready to get home and get back to work. You start pulling papers out of the backpack and looking them over with the glasses on. You don’t have much, but maybe all this will fit together somehow.

God please let this all fit together somehow.

Tag list:

@foxyjwls007 @andahugaroundtheneck @also-fangirlinsweden @pagina16ps @princesssterek @valsworldofcreativity @dumblani @inkedaztec @loving-life-my-way @animegirlgeeky @shinycupcakebaker @eralen @sophham @gh0stgurl @killcomet @wonderlandfandomkingdom @annielr @abschaffer2 @capsiclesdoll @patzammit @sass-masterkittenmama @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #Steve rogers x reader imagine #imagine steve rogers #imagine Steve Rogers x reader #captain america x reader #captain America x reader imagine #imagine Captain America x reader #sick story

[werewylf]

someone said leigh is gonna be directing a werewolf movie

#leigh whannell #gnawing at the bars of my enclosure #i love werewolf movies #nox grumbles

[musescafe]

@notyetfixed gets a starter for nox.

Muriel wasn't sure how he had gotten roped into traveling with a group of people. He usually tried to avoid groups of people if he could help it. He preferred his solitude (except for Inanna, of course).

Still, Nox had promised that they would help Muriel figure out what was making his forest ill if he helped them in return. They'd figured out the source and destroyed it. Now he had a debt to repay.

He'd grumble about it, but he was a man of his word. He didn't like to break promises.

It wasn't the worst thing in the world. Nox wasn't unpleasant to be around. Some of the others were a little too loud for his tastes and a few he didn't trust. It was an odd group.

They'd made camp for the night. Muriel set up his tent a little bit away from the others. Inanna gave him a pointed look but he ignored the wolf's displeased stare. If she wanted to go get pets, she could walk over to the others to get them. He wouldn't stop her.

He hadn't noticed Nox until he'd turned around from tying off the last stake. He hesitated, unsure of what she wanted or what he should say. He'd never been good with words.

"Did you need something?"

He sounded brusque and grumpy, like he always did. Inanna gave him another look.

#notyetfixed #muriel (threads) #down by the river (muriel; baldur's gate)

[sparkedblaze]

oscar lashing out at morris while blind with anger and then being hit with absolutely Desperate regret the very second his anger clears is the concept that causes me the most best agony ever

he just gets so Angry and it all builds up and his brain gets filled with static and morris can never leave anything Alone he can never leave oscar alone for even a second and he always needs help and oh, god, oscar’s their pa, he’s just like their pa

he’s so petrified that morris will be afraid of him

Dhaosidhfoaishfiuaublgijabrlgj

H-

Ohohohohohhhoohohoh

Nox this is

This is delicious

Putting this in my mouth

Putting them in a blender

Putting them in a mortar and beating the shit out of them with a pestle

Holy shit

T/w: Smoking, violence, lashing out, anger, general not fun time. This is.... this is fucked up

*

Oscar had been on edge all day, he'd been extra harassed by the newsies, Uncle Wies had been extra grouchy, and Morris had been extra needy and had had almost a dozen meltdowns.

It had to have been something in the air. There wasn't any way this could all be happening in the same day.

Then again, that would be Oscar's luck. Everything going wrong, all in the same day.

Morris was distracted, watching a flock of pigeons hop around the nearby courtyard. Oscar used that opportunity to sneak around the corner, into an alleyway, where he could be alone. Just a second, that's all he needed.

And maybe a light and a cigarette.

He'd just lit one when Morris wandered around the corner. Oscar tensed, taking another drag. "Mo, what hap'nd to the boids?"

"Them flied 'way," Morris frowned, looking over at him, moving closer. "What 'ya doin'?"

" 'M just havin' a smoke, Mo," Oscar grumbled, taking another drag off his cigarette. "Go 'way."

He looked up at Oscar, lip quivering. "Where I gonna go?"

The whine in his voice scraped down Oscar's spine, and he took another drag off his cigarette, trying to stay calm. "I dunno, Mo. I jus' need a second."

Mo let out another whine, looking around the alley. "D'ya got any mo' cigs?"

Oscar shook his head, despite the pack sitting firmly in his inner pocket.

His younger brother frowned, stepping further into the alley. "Os-"

"No, Morris! Jus' go! Jus' for a second!" Oscar snapped at him, raking his hand through his hair.

His cheeks puffed out in a telltale sign of a meltdown waiting to happen, and Oscar could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Morris doesn't get to do this. He doesn't get to have a meltdown just because he can't have his way. It isn't fair. Oscar should be able to have his own time without constantly having to worry about his baby brother.

Morris opened his mouth to say something, but Oscar couldn't make out the words over the roaring of blood in his ears.

He threw his cigarette down, and ground it out with the heel of his shoe. "No!"

He didn't miss the way his voice echoed through the alley, just couldn't find it in himself to care all that much in the moment. He collided with Morris, knocking the other into the wall.

"You don' get to jus' come here 'n ruin my perfec'ly fine day 'cause you's bored! You don' get to jus' 'cause you's lonely! You don' get to do anythin' you want jus' 'cause!"

Oscar didn't know when he'd started swinging, all he knew was that he couldn't stop-didn't want to stop. He was getting out decades of frustration, working through every thought he'd had about Morris, all the things he'd ruined for them.

They could've been out of New York if it weren't for him. If he wasn't so attached to these damn streets, he and Oscar could've hopped a train years before.

And here they were, doing dirty work for the warden and their uncle, for nothing. They got a place to sleep, and food on the table, and barely a nickel more.

"An' it's all your fault!" Oscar cried out, trembling with rage. Rage at Morris' sickness, rage at pa for making Oscar take care of them both, rage at the system that kept them from leaving.

And, more than a little rage at himself (not that he'd ever admit that) for not doing better at raising Morris. For not making him a better man. For not fixing him.

The first thing he realized was the pain. The agonizing pain in his hands.

When the crashing of waves ceased in his mind, Oscar was left with bloodied-probably broken-knuckles. He had to focus to breathe properly, trying to get enough oxygen into them. Had he stopped breathing during that?

His vision came back into focus, and what he saw made his stomach churn.

Morris, curled and whimpering on the ground against the wall, beaten and bloodied and cowering away from his brother.

"Mo..." Oscar reached out for him, but Morris screamed, shaking his head, pressing himself further into the wall behind him.

Oscar knelt, pressing himself against the opposite wall so Morris wouldn't feel trapped, praying he wasn't going to hurl.

"Mo, 'm sorry," he wheezed, heart once again pounding in his ears, body trembling almost in time with Morris. "Mo, 'm so sorry."

Morris shook his head, still hiding his face in his arms, rocking and crying and clacking his teeth together and Oscar knows it's bad.

He's finally done it.

He's lived up to what he's always thought of himself.

He looks like Walter, he always had. Pa always said he'd never be rid of him, and he was right-more right than ever now-and Oscar's blood boiled at the thought.

He'd become the man he loathed.

"Mo..." his voice was barely a whisper, trying to breathe around the searing heat in his lungs. "Mo we gotta- we gotta get back- I gotta patch you up."

Morris shook his head, ducking his head further down, nails digging in at the hairline.

"Mo, c'mon, we gotta go before anybody see us," Oscar tried again, sighing when Morris still doesn't move. He glanced around, trying to gauge how far they were from the house.

He looked back at Morris, leaning in a little closer. "Okay, okay, Mo, 'm gonna be right back, okay?"

Morris said nothing, just crying and screeching and hurting himself.

Oscar slunk out of the alleyway, ducking into the store they were next to. A general store. He knew, however, that there was a row of stuffed toys in the back, and he looked over them. He looked on the lower shelves, finding a smaller toy that he could fit in the waistband of his pants, beneath his overshirt, without looking too conspicuous.

He scoffed, throwing his hands up as if he hadn't found what he'd been looking for. He made his way up to the counter, tossing a coin as the man at the counter got him his usual pack of cigarettes.

"Back for another already, Oscar?" he smiled as he traded the pack for the coin, only earning a grunt in response as Oscar took the pack and left, hoping the man hadn't noticed the stolen good.

He all but ran back into the alley, finding Morris just as he'd left him. Oscar pulled the stuffed dog out, hiding it behind his back as he knelt in front of Morris. "Hey, Mo, I got you somethin'."

He slowly brought the stuffed animal into view of his younger brother, whose curiosity superseded the fear that had been coursing through him. He was still crying, nails still picking at his skin, but he wasn't cowering away from Oscar like he had been.

Oscar's stomach churned faster as he plead with God-not that the bastard had ever been there for either of them-that Morris wouldn't be afraid of him. He wouldn't be able to handle that. He was nothing without his little brother. Morris was his entire world, the only reason Oscar was still there, the only reason he woke up each morning.

He had to make sure that Morris wouldn't try and leave.

He couldn't leave.

#newsies #livesies #92sies #morris delancey #the delancey brothers #oscar delancey #nox asks #nox hurts #nox this is probably the most amazing thing you've ever sent #thank you #i will probably nap now #ily

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skeleton's toddler is so mad their dad said no to have more candy that they start to pack their things in a ridiculous small toy suitcase and leaves the house, stomping angrily. Reaction?

Undertale Sans - He tries not to chuckle as his kid leaves by the front door. He lets them walk away and waves at them, wishing them good luck to fight the street ghost on their own. The kid immediately stops, horrified at the realization, and quickly turns around to go back home safe. Yep, his kid definitely has the Papyrus' dramatic side of the family.

Undertale Papyrus - Papyrus knows the portal at the entrance is locked so he just watches as his kid tries to open it with despair, before giving up and just sitting in the grass, pouting. Papyrus let them be, they'll get home eventually once they get bored, which happens not five minutes later.

Underswap Sans - He lets them walk to the end of the street then he goes to fetch them with his police car and arrests them for leaving the house lol. The kid is not happy about it but it's not like they can escape him so they give up and climb in the car, grumbling. Blue takes them have ice cream so no one says he's playing with his police car outside of service.

Underswap Papyrus - Too bad Honey is a very good dad and that the front door is locked lol. The kid's escape plan is dead. Honey invites them to talk about it calmly instead of trying to leave the house.

Underfell Sans - He wishes his kid good luck and then locks the door very loudly so the kid can hear it outside. The child immediately panics and starts banging on the door in panic, screaming they are joking and that they want to go home after all. Red lets them come in, smirking. Yeah, the kid definitely inherits his bravery, that's for sure.

Underfell Papyrus - Like hell you're leaving, what's this attitude?! The only place you're going is your room to think about what you just did. You can't mess with Edge, sadly. Oh, and you're grounded.

Horrortale Sans - He simply follows the kid around as they leave the house. They're so annoyed Oak is following them they actually don't notice Oak is guiding them back home by another street leading to the farm. The kid is so mad when after walking for ten minutes they realize they're back home. Oak can't help it and chuckle at their puzzled expression. Better luck next time kiddo.

Horrortale Papyrus - He sighs dramatically, then sends his sheepdog after them. The dog drags the kid home by the pants as they're screaming and struggling angrily. Willow told the child that since he was eager to go outside, they're going to clean the rabbit hutches and think about what happened.

Swapfell Sans - He rolls his eyes dramatically and grabs the kid's soul with blue magic. The kid can't understand why they're walking but not moving and just tired themselves for a good twenty minutes before Nox comes out. He explains to the child there's a magic barrier around the house to prevent children from leaving the house without an adult. The kid is shocked to learn the news. And a bit scared. What other powers does his dad have???

Swapfell Papyrus - "fine, leave. i'll give the toy i bought you to the next child i will adopt." The child stops dead in their tracks and turns around, completely forgetting their escape plan in seconds. They ran back to him, excited about the new toy.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He quickly activates a net trap in the garden. The kid falls right through one as they leave and suddenly finds themselves hanging in the air, stuck inside a big net. Wine comes out to laugh at their misery and since they're so eager to have independence, he's going to let them find a way out of this by their own. Except he's not joking lol. He won't help to free the child. You did that to yourself, now learn.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He gives up and give them more candy. He's too tired to run after his child and he doesn't want his S/O to kill him for losing the child in the wild. He doesn't trust himself to catch them outside, even though they can barely walk so there's no reason he wouldn't catch them :')

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

[burninlovebutler]

23 - Christmas Pt. 2 - Comeback Special** // Forever Winter Series

pairing: austin x fem!oc

warnings: ANGST, fed up!austin lol, mentions of addiction, fingering, oral (both), swallowing, cheating?, impending doom of getting caught, sad lol beginning of austin’s villain arc, 18+, mdni

summary: After her boyfriend leaves, Austin finds Elsie in something he can’t get his hands off of. Fueled by his Xanax comedown, the fight with Nox, and his impatience, he decides he’s had enough and loses sight of the ‘no touching’ rule.

prev chapter -> 22 - Christmas Special (ft. The Grinch)

see masterlist/summary for chapter log

gif cred: @carnevol ❤️

'There's an ache in you put there by the ache in me But if it's all the same to you, it's the same to me

We could call it even You could call me babe for the weekend'

-AUSTIN-

Nox finally let me go once I agreed to his fucked-up plan. I smoothed out my now wrinkled shirt in a grumble, “Well I guess I’d better get going.”

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea.” His voice still threatening before swinging the fridge door open, bending down searching for something. He pulled out a dark glass bottle, no doubt some pretentious craft beer. “Tell Elsie headed to the corner store.” Tugging the cap off with his teeth.

I eyed him as he did so, disgusted.

I knew it.

“I thought you stopped drinking?” Propping an eyebrow up, sounding more like an accusation than a question.

“And I thought you stopped popping pills?” He countered in a tone sharp enough to slice me.

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

Damn, Elsie really did have a type after all. I thought I was different this whole time. I thought if anything I was better than the rest of men she’d had in her life. But I was wrong, I was just like them. And if I was just like them – then I guess I should stop fighting it. If I was the same as the other vile men who’d ever touched her, then I suppose I should act like it. Maybe if I was more like them, she’d want me the way I want her.

And what way was that exactly?

I glanced over to the cracked bedroom making sure she wasn’t about to walk out or listening.

“Don’t you fucking dare tell her where I’m going. Tell her I just went to pick up a… pie or something. Or the deal is off.” He glared at me and poked his index into my sternum, “Got it?”

“Yeah.” I muttered holding my arms up in defeat.

His finger pressed into me again, “And don’t fucking be here when I get back.”

And with that he took his open beer and headed out the door.

Once he was gone, I felt my high falling. This was always the worst part, it came with a bubbling aggression and the shit with Nox certainly didn’t help. Though I knew better than to take it out on him, especially when he was the bridge between me and Elsie. Since I hadn’t planned to be here that long, I didn’t bring any extras to re-up.

I need to get out of here before I come down even more.

I crossed the apartment to find Elsie and say goodbye. Knocking on the half-cracked bedroom door, “Hey Els?” No answer. I creaked the door open to an empty room but saw the bathroom door open and thoughtlessly paced over, “Hey I think I’m gonna head out-“

I stilled to find her in festive mesh thin lingerie. I couldn’t help my eyes from widening before she shrieked and covered herself. I should’ve turned away, I really should have. But how could I when she was there in front of me attired in a red babydoll set, obviously supposing to be Christmas themed by the fuzzy white lining.

Her hands promptly hid her breasts that were only covered by the thin see-through mesh, “What are you doing here?” Her voice starting loud but then lowering most likely in fear of Nox hearing her. “You can’t be here.”

“Well, I came here to tell you that he left went to the market for a uh-“ Coming up with a better excuse than a pie right now was difficult since I was more focused on not getting hard. Which I was failing at, bringing folded hands to cover my crotch. “A pie. We forgot dessert.”

“Oh- Well,” There was a visible conflict stirring in her mind, “Well, you need to get out.”

Right.

I hummed taking in the sight of her, her chest covered but the rest of the short dress not hiding much else. “Is that what you want?”

She blinked at me, taking longer to respond than someone who really didn’t want someone to see them. But her look then dropped, “This is embarrassing.” Moving one arm to conceal both breasts and crossed the other diagonally over her body. “I was just trying it on.”

“You tryin’ to give Nox a last-minute Christmas gift?” I joked, the only thing I could do to distract myself.

She gave a sad smile and shook her head, “No, No I’d never wear this in front of him. He’d just think it’s stupid. I guess I just bought because I thought it was pretty.” Her shoulders pulled up in a defeated shrug. “It looks awful anyway.”

The comedown anger bubbled up in me again. It just made no fucking sense to me, what the fuck was he saying to her to make her this insecure. No wonder she didn’t want to fuck him.

“Well,” Stepping towards her, “Let me see.” I softly ran my fingers under her arm signaling to move it. Her green eyes flickered up to mine as she hesitantly obliged letting me take her wrist and lifting it away. The thin material barely coving her nipples, peaking at the sudden cold.

Through everything we did, we never saw each other naked. This was the first time seeing her bare and my god she was a sight. I marveled over the absolute vision of her, the way the fluffy white lining rounded her large breasts then flowed down her full hourglass figure. The short dress landing just below her panties. “I think you look beautiful.” I said simply, not wanting to overstep. While it was true, the words I actually wanted to say were much different.

A tinge of red pulled from her cheeks, “You think so?”

“Mhm.” Again, pushing words down while raking down her silhouette. “Nox is a fucking idiot if he doesn’t think you look fucking delicious.”

Oops.

Her eyes rounded, her other arm covering her chest again, “Austin.” Reprimanding, “You can’t be saying things like that.”

“You were the one that asked for my opinion.” I replied in a blasé tone and a shrug.

“I- Yeah well, you just can’t.” Her gaze focused on some tile on the floor.

I stepped closer, “Why’s that?” Picking her chin up to meet my eyes, “Because you like it?”

I crossed the doorway now fully in the bathroom with her, my finger sliding under the thin strap of the dress, “I think you’re lying.” I could feel her racing heart already beneath my knuckle.

I crossed the doorway now fully in the bathroom with her, my finger sliding under the thin strap of the dress, “I think you’re lying.” I could feel her racing heart already beneath my knuckle.

She brought her tongue between her lips, “I’m not.”

I tugged the strap to hang off her shoulder, “Why’s your heart beating so fast then?” Grazing my hand down her side causing her to still. The anger from the comedown was converting into something else completely but just as dark, just as forceful, just as primal.

When I reached her hip, I found the skinny band of the obligatory patch of fabric lingerie companies called a thong. Hooking it in my middle finger, tracing it from the back of her hip to the front.

“No touching.” She said so quietly I almost didn’t hear her. I guess this stupid rule was now some secret code for surrender.

“No promises.” In a swift movement I seized her waist, lifting and placing her on the marble vanity. My hands took no time to find their favorite places, which just happened to be everywhere. Lips finding her neck and sinking my teeth into her. I didn’t want to play this stupid game anymore, I wanted to touch.

“Austin,” She gasped then leaning her neck to the side giving me more access. “We can’t.”

“Shut up.” My words surprising me, but I didn’t regret them. I took hold of her hips bringing her to the edge of the counter pressing my prominent bulge into her covered heat. She let out a soft moan when she felt me.

“Aus-“ She protested again though it sounded more like a beg. My hands caressing every inch of her body, my fingers climbing each rib up to her breasts.

She tugged her neck away from me when I started to suck on it, “He’ll kill you if you leave any marks on me.” As much as I wanted to defy her – mark her, claim her. I knew I couldn’t, not if I wanted to keep my corrupt deal with Nox. I obliged softening my actions into just messy kisses. My hands finally finding her tits, massaging them then grazing her stiff nipples with my thumbs.

“I told you, you look delicious,” My tongue trailing up her neck, “I wasn’t lying.” My hands now sliding up her thighs squeezing and pushing them apart further as to push further against her. “Can you feel how much I wasn’t lying?”

“Mhm.” In a tiny sob.

“Have you been thought of me since I last touched you?” I whispered beneath her ear as my fingers moving between her thighs to where the fabric barely covered her core. I heard her breath hitch.

“Mhm.”

“No no no,” I corrected, my tone deepened, “You know how to answer me.”

She closed her eyes in defeat biting into her bottom lip, “Yes.”

“Good girl.” My middle and ring tips followed up her slit, since the panties were just mesh her juices bled right through them, leaking onto my fingers. It sent an untethered jolt through my body and directly into my cock, “You want me to touch you?”

She squeezed eyes shut again pushing down a response, but finally nodding.

“If you want me to touch you, I’m gonna need your words.” Growling into her neck.

“Yes. Over only.” Telling me that the ‘no touching’ rule was still on, which really just meant we could touch just over clothes. I knew why it was there, I knew why we had it but the head on my shoulders wasn’t the one thinking right now.

“Do you think about me when you’re with him?” Her hands gripped the counter, I knew she didn’t want to answer this one.

“Yes.”

My fingers now hovered over her bundle, “Have you touched yourself thinking about me?”

From her audible gulp and the way she froze under me told me she really didn’t wanna answer that one. Yet, the wetness beneath my fingertips only grew from my words, the feeling of it – of what I caused – made me ravenous, insatiable. Like a shark that had just smelled blood for the first time in weeks. I got my answer from her reaction, but I wanted to hear it. My free hand caressed up her thigh giving it a squeeze, “C’mon darlin’ you can tell me. Have you used your fingers on your pretty pink pussy thinking about me?”

“Fuck,” She breathed out with a moan, “Yes.”

I rewarded by moving in circles over her covered clit earning a gasp. My lips curled into a smirk against her neck, “That’s it, doesn’t that feel good?”

“Mhm.”

I let that one pass from how pitiful it was. Her hand hesitantly moved to my tightened pants, her fingers trailing up my covered length. I let out an involuntary groan, it wasn’t til just then that I realized she’d never put her hands on me. Her touch fueled me even more.

“You’re so hard.” She whispered, “For me?”

No shit, who fucking else could make me this hard.

“Only you baby.” It slipped from me. It had been swirling on the tip of my tongue all night. I’d craved saying it again since last time.

My fingers worked slightly faster circles into her swollen nub. I was so distracted by my lips on her neck and her moans that I didn’t even notice her unzipping my pants. Her hand now palming my hard member only separated by boxers. I grasped tightly onto her hip letting out a grunt. Her hand felt so good on me, I wanted to know what it felt fully around me. The way she moved suggested she wanted to know the same.

But I firmly gripped her wrist and pulled it away from me. I tugged her hips even closer to the edge of the vanity and lowly into her neck in almost a growl, “The next time you make me come, it’s going to be inside of you.”

“Okay.” She said plainly then slipped from my grasp. I didn’t even know what she was doing until she was on her knees in front of me.

Hooked fingers at my sides slid both boxers and jeans down letting my length spring free. Her eyes rounded at the size then glancing up at me. I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a compliment or a request for permission.

“I thought we weren’t touching.” The sight of her on knees in front of me and her lips so close to me really clouded the reasons.

“’You won’t be inside me, it won’t count.’” Shooting the words I gave her on the couch back at me. Before I could even put up a fight her tongue slowly made its up the underside of my length, reaching the tip and swirling at it.

“Fuck.” I swore as her tongue began to trace every vein before following the ridges around my head, causing me to twitch on her tongue. Pride seemed to fuel her, taking the whole tip into her mouth. “Stop teasing me baby, I wanna see you take all of it.”

Innocent eyes looking up at me, wrapping her hand around my base and guiding my member to tap then slide over her tongue. I reached down to gently hold her cheek, “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

A tinge of red peaked her cheeks, “Pretty?”

Shit.

It was something so simple – obviously we wouldn’t be touching like this if we weren’t at least somewhat attracted to each other, but we never said it out loud. And I couldn’t have said anything else – hot or sexy – it had to be fucking pretty. The most delicate one, even if it was in this filthy context.

My hand traced along her jawline to her chin, taking it between my thumb and index, “Yeah baby, you look so pretty.”

Elsie’s green eyes lit up almost as bright as the lights on her tree. Her reaction now highlighting a trend. Yes of course she’s evidently deprived of pleasure, but she was also deprived of this – just the words pretty or a slight touch to her cheek. She soaked up any attention like a sponge. I’ve known girls who do anything for attention and live to be the center of it, but that’s not what this was.

Her demeanor changed after the compliment, the innocent timid manner turned to something, almost, artificial…?

“I like having you in mouth.” Stating in a forced tone, looking up at me with the light from before now dimmed then promptly slid down my entire length, choking slightly when my tip reached the back of her throat.

“God – Fuck” Tangling my fingers into her hair and dropping my head back, “God your mouth feels so good.”

A vibrating hum rounded my girth, bobbing faster on me keeping her tongue anchored to the underside of my length while she moved.

It felt amazing to have her mouth finally around me – obviously – but it was so fast, rough, overly animated. Porn-like.

That’s what it was, porn like. But not in the good way, in the annoying exaggerated way.

“Darlin’,” The hand in her hair moved down to her cheek again, “Darlin’ there’s no rush.”

Sage green eyes faltered as she slid her mouth off me, pulling away with a string of drool still connecting her lips to my cock, “What, you don’t like it?” Giving me a pout like she’d cooked a meal that came out bad.

“No, no I do, I love it.” Bending down while holding her jaw, “I want you to do it the way you want to, not the way you think I want, okay?”

The bright in her gaze returned when she nodded, “Okay.”

“Good,” I leaned back and watched her take over.

The actions much softer now, her tongue curled gently just under my head, plump lips slid up and over the summit of the swollen tip. She brought her hand up to where her mouth worked stealing some of the excess saliva as lube to smoothly glide down my shaft. When she wasn’t trying to act like a pro, she actually was one.

“Oh fuck,” I cursed while her hand pumped at the base while she took as much of me as she could. I’m sure she wasn’t used to my size but if we kept making this mistake, I’d get her used to it eventually.

The threat of Nox coming home any minute lingered in the back of my mind, if he were to catch us, we’d both be dead – and our deal would certainly be null. But the way she looked having me in her mouth and knowing that I could fuck her better than he ever could, only heightened the thrill. The illicit sneaking was painful in its own right, but it did come with perks. The implications and consequences had conveniently left my mind since right now, it was only filled with the idea of him finding us with my cock lodged deep in her throat. And well, there was still some masculine urge coming from my groin demanding to mark my territory, and that urge really seemed to like the idea of showing him how much of a slut his girlfriend was for me.

“God I’ve wanted to be in your mouth for so long,” Grasping her brunette waves between my fingers and rolled my hips into her, feeling every ridge of her throat. She let out a gagged whine but didn’t halt. I repeated the action pushing myself further down. She choked but didn’t pull away and her tongue never quit working around me.

“You like my cock fucking your throat?” She replied in a pathetic ‘mhm’ hum. I brutally thrusted down her again and tugged her hair to move my member even further. She let out a pitched whine but stayed put while I continued to use her mouth for my own pleasure. Tears from her endurance began to fill her eyes, smudging her makeup as they rolled down her cheek. I couldn’t mark her, but I could do that.

I knew I wasn’t going to last long like this, “Fuck I’m close,”

She nodded as best she could with me still in her mouth and gave me a confirming look.

“Where do you want me to cum baby?” My entire body buzzed, on the edge of my precipice.

A finger quickly pointed at her throat indicated she wanted to swallow me. Probably since she didn’t want any proof on her.

I continued to fuck her mouth, each slam into the back of her throat pushing me closer and closer to my end. Her whimpers only intensified with my speed. It was when I imagined it was her pussy that I was balls deep in that made every fire burning my skin to finally erupt into the back of her throat. I kept her head stationary by her locks, was gagging pathetically around me but took it all, swallowing every drop.

Finally dislodging from her throat and out of her mouth, my cock and her lips covered in dripping drool. She looked like a fuckin’ dream, her makeup running, lips swollen and glistening with her own saliva.

“Fuck you did so good for me baby,” In any other scenario, with any other girl, I’d lean down and kiss her, mess and all. But this wasn’t any other girl, and I wasn’t allowed to touch her.

Even though I’ve already had her pussy in my mouth, and she just swallowed my cum. ‘No touching’ though, right?

“I did?” She squeaked out, barely a voice behind the rasp of just having her throat used.

“Mhm,” Leaning down cupping her cheek, “So so good baby, I think you deserve a reward.”

Her painted lashes batted up at me with the purest gape, one I’d only seen in girls who liked getting praised, girls who liked being controlled. I knew if I leaned into the praise she’d disintegrate between my fingers. But that was a special dynamic, one I couldn’t nurture with her. A dynamic I wasn’t sure I wanted with her. Sure, us messing around was one thing but she’d been my best friend for years. How was I supposed to dominate her? She didn’t let me tell her what to do on any given day, why would she let me do that now?

“No, no…” She dropped our eye contact and sat back on her legs, “I don’t think I deserve it.”

If I was still vengeful, I’d agree with her, but she just sucked the soul out of me. I owed her something.

“Of course you do darlin’,” Tilting her view back up to me, “You did so good for me, c’mon let me take care of you.”

All she did was blink up at me unmoving, so I did take control of that at least. I hooked both hands beneath her arms causing a gasp then plopping her atop the vanity.

“What’re you doin Aus?” She questioned shyly.

All I fucking wanted to do was touch her, grip her, squeeze her, kiss her everywhere and yet I had to restrain from every line I wanted to cross. Everything – the hiding, the tip toeing around what we were doing, her pushing me away, frustrating me – it all loaded me like a gun. A gun I wanted to turn on her, use on her.

I didn’t know if it was the drug fleeing my system or true resentment that had stacked in my body, but I wanted to use every ounce of fury on her. I couldn’t be angry over those things though, I couldn’t be angry as a friend, but like this? Maybe I could take it out on her someday. I’m sure my arsenal would be nice and full by then.

I grasped her hips easily sliding her to the edge, my lips finally claiming land on her neck again. It took no time for tiny whines to fall from her puffy lips, “Aus.”

“I won’t leave any marks,” Reassuring her but my voice much less kind than before, my fingertips digging into her full hips, “But I want to.”

“You do?”

Answering her with sloppy, just barely sucking kisses in the areas I knew she liked. The physical restraint was almost impossible to control. “You were so good for me baby, I wanna make you feel just as good.”

Her thighs rubbed together letting me know she wanted it as much as I did. “I uh, I like making you feel good.”

“Oh yeah?” Trailing hands down her barely covered curves landing on her thighs, squeezing up from her knees spreading them. My digits ran over her already soaked panties. “You like making me cum?”

She wriggled, shifting thighs under my touch, “Mhm.”

“Hm,” Pacing slow up and down her slit, “What did we talk about words?”

She let out a defeated sigh, “Yes.”

“Yes what?” My finger teasing the edge of the thong laying on her lip.

“Yes I- I like making you cum Aus.” She forfeited for me.

“Good girl,” I breathed just below her ear, erupting goosebumps across her shoulder, “See how easy that was? Now I can let you cum.”

She squirmed even more, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was trying to get my fingers to slip from their halted position. I sunk my teeth into her neck but promptly lightened the pressure, though from her immediate moan it seemed she didn’t want me to stop.

I indulged her neediness and pulled the panties aside using her own juices as lubricant to swirl around her swollen nub. “God you’re so fucking wet.” Sounding more like a groan than a statement. She gripped my forearm when my fingers slid into her entrance.

“Aus,” She sobbed curling forward to rest her head on my shoulder and wrapped her arm around the one at work. “I love- when you touch me.”

I wasn’t high enough to even acknowledge her misstep. It didn’t matter anyway, probably just a reflex.

“I love- it too.” Stumbling in the same way she did.

Fuck

Why did I make that same mistake?

I had to shut both of us before we fumbled any further, luckily, I knew just the trick.

Sliding from her core and forcing her to the edge, leaving ghost kisses down her body before kneeling in front of her. I wrapped my arms around her thighs firmly and took her in my mouth before she had a chance to protest.

“Oh fuck.” Her hand instantly entwined in my hair and rutting her hips into my mouth so frenziedly, you’d think she was in heat. Her juices covered my face already and I fucking loved it only fueling me more.

I did that, I made her that fucking wet.

“Fingers – please.” Her enunciation skipping between syllables pitifully.

I obliged returning my digits to their rightful place, snug between her walls and curving into her sweet spot. My tongue lapped up her folds swallowing every drop of her succulence, matching the desperation she exuded. When I finally began focusing on where she needed me, she disheveled – tugging at my hair, moans filling the room, hips revolving into my fingers essentially fucking herself on them. I spun figure-8’s against her clit only resulting in her vibrating beneath me telling me she was already close.

“Uh – I,” She hesitated, attempting to regain any composure from her pathetic voice, “Can I come Aus?”

As much as I loved her asking for permission, it did beg the question as to what would make her ask. I wasn’t in charge of her and she didn’t have to obey me.

I freed her for just a second, “Yeah baby, be a good girl and come for me.”

My work continued on her bud helping her towards her demise, her pitching moans only driving how ravenously I ate her.

“Aus- Aust!” Letting out with a scream, releasing her orgasm onto my fingers and all over my mouth.

A scream

The second time I made her scream my name.

“Fuck, Fuck!” She continued as my actions didn’t stop letting her ride out her high until her clenching walls ceased.

When she was finally spent, I pulled myself up wiping the excess juices from my chin with the back of my hand. Before I could I had the chance to praise her more, she fell forward on me, resting her head on my chest. I shouldn’t have, really should’ve have – but I pulled my arms around her bringing her into an embrace. It was just a hug or so it seemed, but the intimacy it brought wasn’t something just a hug would bring.

“You did so good.” I whispered, giving her back a gentle rub. I wanted to end it with a ‘baby’ but we were out of that haze, the spell was broken and those luxuries departed with it. She curled into me, nuzzling against my abdomen and clasping one of my arms around her.

“Thank you.” Her voice soft still, in a submissive tone. There was a long pause before speaking again, “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

What did that mean? Did she want to go again? Did she want me to hold her in bed like I do when she’s drunk?

Leave

Leave

“Oh fuck.” I tugged away though her grip kept me anchored, “Fuck Els, I have to go Nox could be here any minute.”

She seemed unphased, not even moving to react, “If he went to the store, he’ll be there for a while, you’re fine.”

She knew his patterns, just like she knew mine.

His words rang in my ears – the deal that we made. I couldn’t take the risk of him finding me between his girlfriend’s legs.

“No, No Els, you know I gotta go.” I was able to escape that time, she just frowned at me.

“I know.” Her head hung in dejection and I was reminded exactly why I had to follow Nox’s plot. This was too confusing, it hurt too much.

I hesitated before going to exit but a finger was still hooked with mine, not demanding but requesting my return. Fluttering emeralds saddened when they met mine, swirling some guilt in me as if I was deserting her. Once again, I was wrapped in her web.

It was a brutal battle between my body and whatever was compelling me to take her face in my hands, admiring every feature. Thumbs tenderly slid up her cheek bones causing her to lean into my touch, “Merry Christmas Els.”

Her own delicate hand came up to cup the one that she had leaned into, closing her eyes and giving my hand a little squeeze as she pressed it against her cheek. After taking in the moment, her sad greens found mine again, “Merry Christmas Aus.”

Every cell in my body was trying to convince me that I wanted all the things he had, all the things he got to do with her. Before it was merely sexual, I wanted to touch her, taste her, be inside her. Except now, I ached for all the boring shit with the same ferocity.

The necklace.

The stupid fucking necklace.

Yeah, I got her the priceless Elvis vinyls that she exploded over, ones that intrinsically tied into her very being – more so than some meaningless Kay Jeweler necklace. And yet it still felt superior. No matter what I could do or give her it would always pale in comparison. She’d unwaveringly choose him like he was her religion, and I was just the sin she was ashamed of. I was the evil she was relentlessly tempted by but would later repent for.

I didn’t have that luxury. My religion was synthetic and there was no penance for worshipping it.

Next Chapter -> 24 - Ski Slopes**

Thank you for every like, reblog or comment, it means the world to me truly. I love hearing your thoughts and I'm glad you're liking my little story 💗

P.S. Fun fact - This chapter is followed by 3 more back to back smut chapters 👀

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From DEMON WARDEN, free HERE until Dec 30, 2023

His blond hair is so pale it almost looks white. A few strands touch his forehead, others his high cheekbones. Unearthly beautiful and clad in a charcoal-gray suit and a pristine white shirt with two opened buttons. But that’s not the relevant part. His obsidian eyes lock with mine, and I can’t move. The raw power that oozes from him is unmistakably dark and twisted. Like falling from a cliff with no bottom, like having spiders climbing up my legs. Look at that, I am a magnet for hot guys. Too bad it’s The Fifth Circle of Hell kind of hot guys. ©Demon Warden, Selene Kallan.

“Go on, spit it out. Am I the key to humanity’s salvation? Do I have to stop the Apocalypse? Because, if that’s the case, we are all royally fucked,” I say. ©Demon Warden, Selene Kallan.

“So, what’s your name?” I ask. He turns to look at me. “What?” The same brusqueness of that first night has filtered back into his voice. “Your name, you must have one.” “You already know it,” he says, amethyst eyes narrowing suspiciously. I frown. “If you’re talking about that night, I must remind you I was drunk as Hell and have no idea what I said in that language.” His gaze sharpens with disbelief, and I have to break away from that stare. It’s like being naked. “So, name?” I ask, trying to hide the discomfort. He remains stubbornly quiet. “Unless you want me to call you Your Highness?” I risk a glance. His face is devoid of emotion. “Your majesty? Prince of Darkness?” still nothing. “Royal Pain?” A perfect black brow rises. “Prince of Darkness is taken, I’m afraid. And Royal Pain suits you better.” I snort. “It takes one to know one.” ©Demon Warden, Selene Kallan.

“Put your hands on her again,” Nox warns Aaron, voice arctic, sending a shiver down my spine, “and I will send you to your Maker.” ©Demon Warden, Selene Kallan.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping in a coffin or something?” I grumble. He rolls his eyes. “I am a demon, not a vampire, and that is nothing more than a ridiculous human myth.” “Too bad. I’m sure a vampire would be nicer than you, Royal Iciness.” “I’ve heard that one before, too.” I snort. “Of that, I have no doubt.” ©Demon Warden, Selene Kallan.

Dinah sighs and her lips brush my neck. A jolt of awareness crawls down my spine. I blink and look down at her, catching sight of her wild curls and slightly flushed face. “Chicken soup,” she murmurs in her sleep. Bryce laughs. “Do I smell a new nickname?” I narrow my eyes at him. “Only if you wish to spend a little vacation in Hell.” His eyes sparkle with mischievousness. I don’t need to read his mind to know he’s pondering it. ©Demon Warden, Selene Kallan.

He points at the plate. “You have five minutes to eat.” I blink, not quite believing he’s just made breakfast for me. “You have a special relationship with five, don’t you?” I quip, but sit on the stool and load a forkful into my mouth. Nox says nothing, opting to go to the fridge and pour some orange juice for me. The eggs are perfect, fluffy, and warm. “Thanks,” I grumble. “Three minutes,” he says. “There’s something wrong with your internal clock, or should I say infernal clock?” I say with my mouth half full. Nox arches an unimpressed brow. I grin at him. ©Demon Warden, Selene Kallan

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