#lucian sharp

[ac-fandom]

As a Christmas special I decided to publish my new OC of Inazuma eleven GO, Chiara Sharp and now on with the presentation:

-She is the adopted daughter of Jude Sharp, who adopted her when he was the coach of the young Italian women's team.

-As mentioned, she is Jude's adopted daughter but she is also (even if not entirely legally because there would be other problems regarding the adoption and the fact that she is Italian) David Samford/Sakuma jirou together with Preston Princeton/Miyabino Reiich and Lucian Dark/Kageyama Hikaru.

-in the Italian national team she played as a libero (I don't know how it's written in English and the translator gave it to me like this, however that's the role Mark plays here apart from being the goalkeeper) and she played the playmaker.

-she is Italian but also speaks English, Japanese, Spanish, a little German and Chinese fluently.

-she is 15 years old and born on the fourth of June, and she's in her last year of the rolay academy.

-Before she was adopted by Jude, she had been entrusted to several families but none of them were ever in a position to support her football dream and therefore she had to decide whether to follow her sporting path or a family but she always chose football .

-Chiara has a very reserved and submissive personality towards people she doesn't know but things change when she finds herself in the field or she iswithher friends, she becomes very authoritarian and serious and expects the whole team to give their all and be competitive but knows how to accept defeats with maturity, however, when she is with her friends or family she is very sweet and protective, especially towards her brothers, and sometimes enjoys teasing the boys she finds attractive.

-she invented a nickname or a name in particular to distinguish for all the members of the family: Jude is "Babbo or Papà" that is dad in Italian, while for David she simply calls him dad or "Pa"which is another way to say father in Italian, then for the brothers for Preston she calls him "fratellino" translated little brother, Lucian instead calls him "patato" which is an affectionate way to describe a person.

-she has a huge crush (which is reciprocated) on quentin cinquedea/senguuji yamato, and she often goes to watch his workouts and of course and vice versa so he goes to watch her workouts.

And the what she look like:

And that's her voice:

[piotrek-chomik]

-I think he missed you more then me. Caring of him is my "thank you."-

[obsessive-valentine]

The First Steps, Guided by Gentle Hands (PT 3)

Platonic Vampire Family + Fem!Reader - (Beaumont family saga)

Progress and Setbacks- You find yourself settling in and even enjoying some bits, including Dorian being a great big brother and the warmth of a mother. Though it isn't linear progress and you stumble during some parts. But don't worry, that's what parents are for -to steady you and help in their own ways. Part 3 to 5 Stages of Grief

The following months passed slowly, they weren't particularly unkind. You'd expected worse, to be honest, you settled quicker than you'd like to admit.

Lavinia is usually at your side or close by. The two of you became almost inseparable, Lavinia treating you with a motherly tenderness you hadn’t expected. But never fragile or demeaning, in fact, she encouraged questions and exploration -she was just there for your stability, not to shelter you or keep you captive.

Soren lets you grow comfortable, giving you space to settle and get used to a new routine. He'd make small talk when you're in the same room, but it never felt forced or pressuring. It was casual and kind, warm even.

Lucian is distant to but not the same kind-distant as Soren who's giving you space but is still there for you, this is a brooding-distant. If you caught his eye, he’d glance away with a scowl, or, on the rare occasion he lingered, his expression was unreadable—something guarded beneath the surface, like he didn’t know whether to see you as a stranger, an annoyance, or something else entirely. But he rarely made any verbal jabs, he knew better, where you are Lavinia or Soren are close by.

Dorian made up for his brother in spades though.

Dorian loves having a little sister, but more so a person who's fun and matches his energy. Don't get him wrong, it's not torture living with them, but they are a very formal and work-led family. Lavinia, ever soft for her sons, often played along with her dry wit, entertaining her wild child's antics. But those were just fleeting moments, and the other two are useless when understanding good comedy. This, however, is so much more fun, so much more human- games, laughing and getting in trouble.

-

There were games of cards sprawled out on the sitting room floor, stories told by firelight that had you snorting with laughter at Dorian’s theatrical gestures, and hours spent bent over your sketchbook beside you as he tried (and failed) to master the art of drawing. Your drawing book is now a patchwork of your steady drawings and Dorian's questionable scribbles.

“This is offensive,” he grumbled one afternoon, pointing to his attempt at a cat. It looked more like a misshapen potato with whiskers. “to cats everywhere. I should be ashamed.”

“You should,” you teased, stifling a giggle. “Poor Sir Whiskers. He deserves better.”

“Art critic and sibling tormentor?” He shook his head dramatically. “What have I created ?”

Your smile lingered even after the moment passed. It was a strange thought, but you were starting to feel a quiet sense of belonging here—especially around Dorian. He treated you as though you’d always been part of his life, his easygoing nature smoothing the sharp edges of your fears.

-

Lavinia often encouraged this unconventional form of bonding too. Once walking into the kitchen where you and Dorian were for one reason or another.

Except when she rounds the corner, she sees you both balancing spoons on your noses. She holds back a laugh at the absurdity that Dorian somehow convinced you into.

"Teaching her to balance a spoon on her nose? I'm sure Soren would approve." she raises an eyebrow.

Dorian doesn't remove the spoon to look at her, to focused. "It's a skill, mother. A very serious one, it's harder than it looks." he explains with a grin.

You pipe up though laughs -after dropping your spoon again, determined to get it right you pick it up-. "He says it's a significant motor skill. Apparently, it’s vital for survival."

Lavinia smiles, seeing you so relaxed and happy "Practical, then. Carry on."

The First Steps

But while life in this new family was slowly becoming no so strange, there were unkind 'events'. Often first steps are accompanied by stumbles-

The following months of adjustment weren’t linear. You struggled with the change—an identity crisis that seemed to gnaw at you in the quiet moments—and even the culture shock of living with the Beaumonts. Just as you felt like you were coming to terms with your situation, something new would pull the rug out from under you.

Drinking blood was the worst of it. Just when you thought you could settle, you had to face something that felt so foreign, so damning, that it brought back every fear and doubt. It was gross, wrong, and an impossible idea.

Having been raised in a traditional Victorian household, you likely held some sort of religious or superstitious beliefs too. That only made this so much harder to justify.

-

The first time Soren brought you the cup, you stared at it as though it might bite you. Lavinia sat beside you at the small table in a quiet room. Dorian sat lazily on a soft armchair not far, under the guise of reading a book, but his gaze was fixed on your face, trying to read your reactions. Your stomach churned, the smell of iron lingering faintly in the air.

“Better to start now,” Soren said, his tone firm but not unkind. He set the cup gently on the table in front of you, his hands steady. “It’s easier to manage this way before hunger makes it… harder.”

He straightens up, and his face softens at the sight of an unpleasant struggle they all had faced "Take your time, but you will drink some before you go to bed." He turns to leave, letting Lavinia handle this with her gentle nature.

But he pauses "This doesn’t define you unless you let it." A tense attempt at comfort. You wish it worked.

You sat in silence for a while after Soren left. Dorian broke the silence unable to sit in such a tense atmosphere.

“It’s stranger to think about it than to do it.” as though this were a completely ordinary conversation. “Once you start, it's just routine... instinct.”

“Dorian,” Lavinia murmured, though there was no real scolding in her tone.

“What?” He shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s true.” But his face falls again when his attempt at lighting the mood fails, seeing you only tense up.

You wanted to glare at him, as your eyes began to burn and threaten tears, wanting to snap, but not able to take your eyes off the cup. How can you talk about this like it’s nothing? But your anger fell short. He’d been through this too. They all had. And now it was your turn. There was no getting around it, no more delaying.

Lavinia leaned in, drawing your attention back to her. “I know this feels impossible,” she said softly. “But it won’t ruin you. I promise you that.” The back of her gloved fingers gently brush over your cheek before stopping at your chin and holding it carefully between her index and thumb, forcing you to hold her gaze.

You blinked at her, tears burning the corners of your eyes. “How do you know?” Lavinia sighed at the sight of tears welling up, letting go of your chin to rub circles on your back.

“Because I’ve been where you are,” she said simply. “And I am still myself.”

Something about the certainty in her voice made your resolve falter. Lavinia—so calm, so strong—didn’t look wicked. She didn’t look lost. Maybe… maybe you wouldn’t either.

When you didn’t move, Lavinia stood, reaching for the cup and placing it carefully in your shaking hands. “Just one sip,” she said, her tone firm but kind. “That’s all I’m asking.”

You took as small of a sip as you could- And it was as awful as you were expecting, so foreign. The morality, the taste, the texture and the smell. But worst of all you hated that you weren't so hungry now, forced to confront that this is your way of life from now on.

Lavinia stood, smoothing her skirts before leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “That’s enough for tonight,” she murmured gently, her tone soft but brooking no argument. “Let’s get you ready for bed, sweet girl.” She placed a hand gently on your lower back, guiding your quiet, troubled self out of the room.

Your steps were slow, heavy with lingering unease, but before stepping into the hallway, you glanced back. Dorian sat where he’d been the entire time, unusually still—quieter than you’d ever seen him, almost forgetting he was there. His usual spark seemed dimmed as he watched you leave, his expression subdued.

He caught your gaze and offered a small, sad smile—an attempt at encouragement that didn’t quite land. It wasn’t pity, exactly, just the ache of watching someone he cared for fight battles he couldn’t help them win.

... Guided by Gentle Hands

You began getting glimpses of what life would look like when you finally settled in.

Soren took it upon himself to become a teacher, starting with history, though at first, it was subtle—nothing heavy, nothing overwhelming. He’d beckon you into his study, voice low but firm, and give you small tasks: 'read this chapter' 'tell me what you think about this passage' or 'write down your thoughts on that event'.

Soren understood better than anyone that boredom had a way of catastrophizing unpleasant thoughts, of spiralling them into something unbearable. It was practical, of course—he had always intended to educate you as thoroughly as he had Lucien and Dorian, and even Lavinia, though her education had been more self-initiated.

But at the heart of it, this was his way of looking out for you, by keeping your mind sharp and your heart steady so you wouldn’t lose yourself.

-

It was during your third week that he decided to begin. Your disorientation had started to wane, the constant aches dulling to an occasional discomfort, and you found yourself more active, less confined to bed and wandering the manor instead. You’d begun helping Lavinia with small tasks, rearranging shelves or folding linens, as though eager to distract yourself.

One particular night, when you were more restless than usual, Soren watched you quietly from the corner of his eye. The way you fidgeted and paced was all the indication he needed. After a few minutes, he stood, plucked a book off the shelf with deliberate ease, and turned toward you.

“Come with me to my study, child.” His tone left no room for argument, though there was no harshness to it—only purpose.

You followed him with confusion and trepidation, unsure of what to expect. The vastness of his study made you feel small at first—the towering bookshelves, the rich scent of old leather and parchment. But when you sat across from him, and he opened the book, it wasn’t as daunting as you thought.

The conversation began with history, his deep voice weaving stories of wars and treaties, discoveries and downfalls. -And it wasn’t long before the discussions turned, becoming less of a lecture and more of an interview.

“The tales say that vampires turn to ash in the sun,” you hesitantly said one evening, curiosity finally breaking through. “But Lavinia used to visit me during the day... that doesn't make sense.”

Soren gave a rare, almost amused look, his lips quirking faintly. “Those stories are highly inaccurate. We don’t turn to ash in the sun. It’s only irritating—burns, at the worst, if we’re careless.”

Another night, you leaned forward in your seat, bringing up another thought you had wondered about for a few days “You’re always so busy. Do Vampires have jobs?”

He inclined his head, choosing his words carefully. “The Beaumont name is very respected. That respect comes with responsibilities. It drags us into the political side of what you might call… the Vampire Court.”

“Vampire Court?” You echoed, both fascinated and wary of the term.

“Yes,” he replied, leaning back as though considering how much to say. “Though I’m afraid the details would bore you to sleep. Now, let’s return to the matter at hand.”

There was no mistaking the faint, teasing glint in his eyes as he steered you back to the lesson.

Soren didn’t seem to mind the curiosity. So one night, you dared to ask about his maker, your voice hesitant.

“Is your maker still alive?”

Soren paused, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “Yes, he is. A very smart and serious man, though…” He glanced at you, allowing a dry, almost imperceptible humour to slip through. “Let’s just say it’s best to delay that meeting for a while. He lacks certain… refinements.”

It made you blink in surprise before you stifled a small laugh, and Soren let the moment rest there, as if it had never happened.

One night, you’d muttered about how cold you always felt, after he had asked you how the discomforts are fading. Soren had said nothing at the time, merely watching with that inscrutable expression he always wore.

From that evening on, when you woke at sunset, your fireplace was already lit, your room warm -meaning it had been for a while. You assumed Lavinia had been the one to light it, never questioning the habit.

It took weeks before you pieced it together that it wasn't the ever-attentive Lavinia lighting it for you -but Soren, who took on the task personally and routinely before Lavinia could even get to it.

...

Lavinia had always been the one to openly express her love for you. At first, she was careful—never smothering or overstepping boundaries you weren’t ready to cross. Her affection came out in sweet words and soft nicknames, in the way she always seemed close by, never far enough to leave you feeling alone. Acts of service were her strongest language of love: brushing and braiding your hair, tidying your room up and helping you do up ribbons, laces or clasps.

Slowly, as time passed, Lavinia allowed herself to do more, indulging you in the ways she had always wished to but held back. A daughter to spoil in ways her boys were either too old for or too boyish for.

Lavish clothes, jewellery handed down from her own collection, teaching you things that feel more like an excuse to bond than a lesson Soren would set up.

And then there was the bear-

Lavinia had felt, more than seen, that something was missing from your room. It was lovely, of course—she had ensured it was as comfortable and homely as a room could be, with soft wallpaper in delicate florals, plush sheets, downy pillows, and charming decorations. But as she saw more of your personality shining through—your curiosity, your humour, the flashes of humanity you were holding onto with everything you had—she knew the space didn’t yet reflect you.

It was beautiful, yes, but far too serious. Refined. Grown-up in a way that seemed wrong for someone so young (Physically and/or vampire age). She knew it would grow to be yours and be filled with personality and trinkets, that you would grow to love it as you did your old home.

But she felt you need that comfort and self-expression now more than ever, and so she resolved to change that, one gift at a time, that would increasingly become more and more tailored to your likes and comforts as they learned more about you.

The first one was a bear, a necessary comfort item for many humans. Not just any bear though, only the best. She sat at her desk one morning, as the sun rose and you slept. Writing a letter to an artisan in Russia who she'd met during one of their many travels abroad, she knew he was the person to create what she envisioned.

She spared no detail, describing what she wanted: a luxurious, sturdy bear, hand-stitched from the finest materials, with features cute enough to be loved for an eternity and stitching strong enough to endure just as long.

And when it arrived, carefully packaged, topped with a bow.

She lifts the bear out of the box—a beautiful, exquisitely made stuffed bear, with jointed limbs and cute face. Its fur is soft and plush. It’s stitched with fine care, its paws and ears trimmed with delicate embroidery. The bear’s eyes shine black like little onyx stones, and it wears a velvet ribbon around its neck with a small, silver charm hanging from it—a subtle mark of luxury and craftsmanship.

That evening, when you found it sitting carefully on your bed, your steps slowed as you entered the room. You stared at the bear for a long moment, your fingers brushing hesitantly over its fur before picking it up. It was heavier than you expected, sturdy and real—yours.

Lavinia’s voice broke the quiet, soft from where she stood in the doorway, coming in to put some of your clothes away. “A companion. He came all the way from Russia to keep you company.”

You looked up at her, eyes wide with wonder and confusion at such an extravagant gift. Lavinia didn’t linger on your hesitation, though, her tone light but full of warmth. “It is a very special gift, crafted by hand in Russia by a master artisan. One of a kind. But,” she added, with the faintest smile, “very sturdy. Created to be loved. So take care of him.”

She left it at that, continuing through your draws, finishing her task of putting clothes away as if the expensive gesture was nothing. Lavinia made no fuss about it, didn’t press you to show gratitude or admiration, not because the money was no biggie or it was simple compared to some of her precious items in her room -but because she knew she’d see her efforts rewarded in time.

And she did.

The bear never ended up on a shelf, where so many precious things might go to gather dust. No, it stayed right there—on your bed, within arm’s reach. It was too precious to put away, too yours to display as though it were just a decoration. This was the first thing in your new life that belonged to you and you alone, a token of care and thoughtfulness meant for no one else. Not out of necessity or practicality like clothes, but simply because Lavinia wanted you to have something special.

The bear became a constant presence—sometimes tucked under your arm as you slept, other times sitting proudly on your pillow when you woke. And it wasn’t long before you gave him a name, a fitting one that matched his origins, like Misha. Misha would be treasured by you for lifetimes to come.

-

-

-

Maybe this isn't so bad, maybe you can learn to accept this new -unconventional- family.

Lavinia and Dorian's consistent and open adoration, Soren's subtle but firm love and even Lucien's own form of caring that begins to show in small acts (but thats for another day).

[starsomens]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 10 •... 𝓘'𝓿𝓮 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓬𝓪𝓶𝓮

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Warnings: Guns! Violence! Mentions of Blood and fighting and stabbing! Horribly written action i am so sorry...characters depicted to be hurt, blood mentions, chloroform used, language, DESCRIPTION CHARACTER DEATH!

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Unaware of how many hours had passed, you only knew that you had dozed off briefly. Despite your best efforts to free yourself, your attempts were futile. Unknown to you, someone was outside orchestrating your rescue. In a nearby forest, just off the property, Noah and his men were preparing their move.

"We do this clean, short, and efficiently," Noah spoke as he stood among his men. Their vans parked just outside of Lucien's perimeter "Get Y/N, kill who you must and get the fuck out. I don't want one hair on her head gone is that understood?"

"Yes sir!" his men cry in unison, Jolly then steps forward

"Folio will head the initial group to create our entry point, then my team and I will follow to ensure a clear path for Noah to locate Y/N," he gestures towards Nick, who is equipping the van with surveillance and medical gear. "Nick is our support; his word is our command. If he says we retreat, we retreat."

"Yes sir!"

Folio rolls his ski mask down to cover his face his signature grin still evident on his face "let's rock this bitch."

He loaded his bullets into the chamber, started his bike, and revved the engine. Leading the first group on his motorcycle with the rest following on foot, they approached the gates, which were rigged to blow open, providing Folio with the opportunity to charge in. Most would consider this move foolish, but there was a reason he was known as The MadMan. Diving headfirst into danger only fueled his adrenaline rush.

Although Nick remains in the rear, he is crucial as their sniper. Despite the distance, he is the most skilled sharpshooter they possess. The abrupt breach of the front gates startled Lucien's men, who rushed from the large house, armed and prepared to shoot any intruders. With shots exchanged, some men fell while others were merely grazed by bullets, providing Jolly and his team the opportunity to advance, paving the way for Noah and additional reinforcements.

Noah has one goal, and one goal alone. And that was to get to you. Knowing Lucian and the layout of his building, he knew that he kept most captives in the basement. Now, typically most people would not be attempting something like this however, Noah was not most people. Lucien knew exactly what he was capable of. And that’s why this place was crawling with so many of his goons. But it wasn’t enough to stop Noah.

Y/N:

The door to your cell swung open as Lucien and Denise stepped inside. You could barely make out the commotion outside, but you were certain it was Noah causing it. Denise moved around you, untying the ropes that bound you.

"Get up," you hear a click, and suddenly, you're staring down the barrel of a gun mere inches from your face. "Looks like your hardheaded boy is here," Lucien growls deeply. As soon as the ropes loosen, you rise from your chair and wait for Denise to come into view, her piercing blue eyes scrutinizing you from head to toe.

"look at you now," he sneers "just a pathetic bitch who had got lucky for a few months," a shit eating grin graced her face

"and look at you...Noah still doesn't want you," you lean in closer "what a pathetic little bitch....chasing after a man who doesn't care about her or her dumb ass little-"

Another sharp slap comes to the same cheek from before, this time it stung so much more than before. Before you could react a clothes was held up against your nose and mouth. You struggled and fight as Lucien grips yours arms behind your back. Your visions blurs, you can't breath properly, your knees felt weak, you blink you blink your eyes to stay awake but you are consumed by darkness in mere seconds.

noah

As they ascended the stairs into the cooler, darker parts of the building, bodies were dropping like flies. Each door was violently forced open in a frantic search for you. Yet, each room revealed itself to be just as vacant as the previous, escalating his desperation. At last, reaching the final door at the corridor's end, he kicked it in, expecting to find you tied to an empty chair. His blood boiled with rage, his heart pounded against his chest, the rush of blood roaring in his ears. He knew you had been there, and now you had vanished once more.

“FUCK!” Let out frustrated grunt as he kicks the chair against the wall “ I don’t care how you do it, who you have to kill, turn this place inside out. And fucking find her,”

“Oh we don’t have to go there now do we Sebastian?” a familiar voice comes close as shoes click their way down the hall. His eyes are empty of any compassion or empathy. Looking over his shoulder his eyes land on none other than Alfred.

Betrayal. Bastard. Mother Fucker. Piece of shit!

Noah brushes past his men and grab Alfred by the collar and shoves him against the wall "You fucking bastard, where is she?!"

"Now Mr-" Noah crashes his forehead against his nose. A crack and groan filled the hall

"Shut the fucks up and tell me where!" Noah was not up for playing any games. He presses him into the wall more, putting pressure on his throat,

"L-Lucien's o-ffice...."He stutters, blood trickling down his nose and into his mouth. Noah releases his grip, and he collapses to the ground. Looking at his men he says,

“Tie him up, take him to Nick. I’ll deal with him later,” he commands his men, and if looks could kill. Alfred would have been obliterated on the spot

“Yes sir,” the pick up Alfred and start to escort him out of the building. Alfred knew exactly where he was going, and it would be far from anything pleasant…. Securing his gun into his waistband, he starts running out of the basement and up to the last floor where Lucien would be,

“Noah!,” his ear piece rang “what are you doing—“

“I’m not going to let her sit there waiting for something to happen to her,”

“Think for a second Noah! This is what he wants!” Nick tried to reason with him “you need to think! He could be planning to kill you!"

"Well what the fuck else am I supposed to do Nick?" Noah asks in frustration as he ascends the stairs to his office.

"I've got a plan, but you need to stall him," Nick said typing away at keyboard in the VAN, "Stall him until I'm able to blow a portion of the building, it'll be enough for us to get Y/N, and get out of here," it wasn't a solid proof plan, but the main objective here was to get you out.

Noah stands outside the office, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He harbors a fierce desire to confront Lucien for daring to touch you. Shifting his gun to rest out of sight behind his back, he grasps the handles and pushes the double doors open. They swing wide to reveal Lucien in his usual place, seated behind his large desk, a cigar perched between his lips.

As Noah stepped in, it was reminiscent of the first time he had been accepted into V.A.N. His footsteps were softened by the carpet as his gaze swept the room, searching for any discrepancies or concealed adversaries. However, what he discovered was Mathew, slumped against the wall, appearing almost lifeless. He stops a few feet away from the desk

"where is she..." he asks once

"You know, I still remember the day I took you under my wing. A teenager with nothing but potential," he said, rising from his desk and approaching a portrait on the wall. It depicted a younger Noah, standing beside him and other members. "I recognized a bit of myself in you. You were detached, strategic, willing to do whatever it took to rise to the top… and now, look at you."

He turns to face Noah with a sneer "killing my men for some bitch who ain't worth half of what you are,"

Denise slithers into the room like a snake sneaking up to its prey. She comes up to Noah and trails her fingers over his shoulder to rest on his chest,

"Hi Noah...did you miss me?" she asks in an annoyingly sweet tone. Noah was still focused on Lucien

"She didn't want you, left you, disrespected you… just leave, marry Denise, take over V.A.N. It will all be over, you can start anew," he steps forward two steps, "and we can continue as if none of this ever happened."

"Where is she...." Noah asked once again, ignoring Denise and disregarding Lucien's offer "Just give her back, and I'll leave....."

"Well she is here," he scoffs as he walks towards a closet off to the side of the room, opening it your body slumps out of the space, motionless "Just not in the best state"

"Y/N," he rushes to you and kneels at your side. Holding your head in his hand as his other gently touches your face, smoothing over the purple mark growing on your cheek. "y/n, princess come on wake up for me..." he said it so softly. Like he didn't want to wake you, but he needed to know you were alive, that you were okay....

"You got 2 options here Noah," Noah didn't dare look at Lucien "You can leave here in one piece, and follow what should be. Or you can both go down...or should I say three," he huffed referred to Mathew still slumped against the wall

"Lucien...." he gently laid you on the ground as he slowly rose from the ground "....do you remember when you beat the shit out of me for touching your shit?"

"Little shit....you had to learn to not touch what's min-" a punch landed right to his jaw cutting him off from his sentence. He groans as an intense anger burned inside of him "Oh you Mother Fucker!" The two exchanged blows and ducks, swings and throws. Lucien was hit, Noah had sustained a nose bleed.

All the commotion stirred you to finally come to

"mmm...n-noah...." you just knew it was him. His fuzzy figure as he ducks and swings. While Lucien may have trained Noah, he was older and slower, Noah was much swifter and managed to get Lucien into a headlock.

"Noah it's ready! Get the fuck out, now!" Nick speaks into his ear. Using all of his force, he tried his best to push Lucian into the corner of the room. He runs over to Matthew and grab him by the shirt and shake him a bit. His eyes blink open, still in a daze

"Fucking wake up Mathew come on-ah!" Lucien is on Noah again gripping him into a headlock. Noah thrashed and tried his best to get out of the man's grip. He took a chance and reached behind him and pushed his thumbed into his sockets, freeing himself.

Just like a guardian angel coming to his rescue Jolly stops in the doorway. Finding Noah to get him out of the building before it was blown.

"Jolly get Y/N out of here!" he grunts as he blocks blows and tries to land more,

"Noah we need to--"

"TAKE HER NOW!" There's a loud thump as he pushes Lucien to the wall and holding him there for Jolly to pick you up. Jolly runs inside, grabs you and picks you up, running out of the room. Your hand weakly reaching for Noah as he becomes a small fuzzy figure. You felt as though you were moving in slow motion, you could feel every step Jolly took, every turn he made, once outside he rushes you to Nick. He lays you down in the emergency bed in the van so Nick could examine you, making sure there were no severe injuries. Jolly was about to leave the VAN again before you grab his hand stopping him

"W-where's Noah?" you ask

"He's still inside, I'm going back for him-" Jolly answers grabbing a pistol and loading it

"Jolly you can't we're about to blow this shit-"

"He's still fucking in there!"

"The count is already happening I can't fucking stop it!" The two long haired men were going on it. Jolly wanted to rush in, and Nick couldn't stop the count down. While they were arguing, time was ticking by. You stand up and move as quick as you could out of the van and start walking towards the large building again. You were convinced if you stumbled fast enough you could make it to Noah. Meanwhile Jolly and Nick call after you to come back. You felt as if you were so close! So damn CLOSE!

BAAAM!

The building busted into flames before your eyes. The loud explosion made yours hands fly to your ears an duck down for cover. Looking back at the scene all you could scream was,

“NOO!”

. . . . . . .

It was so sudden when the explosion went off. It threw both Lucian and Noah off-balance. Not even worrying to fight one another anymore, but to cover their heads from falling debris. When Noah opens his eyes once again, he was surrounded by rubble and fire. Most of the building was still intact, but before was starting to cave in on itself. He was still conscious, which meant he still had a chance to get out.

He coughs into his hand, trying to block out as much smoke as he could. He knew this place like the back of his hand he could run out without even looking up. Once he was on his feet and he started to walk his ankle was then grabbed by a grip of pure venom.

“You!” Lucien coughed “you’re not going anywhere! If I go down, you’re going down with me and this shit hole!!” There was a sudden sharp pain in Noah’s ankle. Lucien wasn’t going down without a fight, and chose to shank. No falls to his knees again as he screamed out in pain.

this wasn’t the first time that Noah had seen the fury in his eyes. However, he never thought that he would be on the receiving end of it. He tried to shake him off as best as he could. But the smoke was starting to get to him, and his vision was going fuzzy.

The floor underneath Lucien started to creek as his knee sinks into a hole in the floorboards. Noah had to get out of there before the floor came in on itself. He padded his waistband to find his gun, only to find that it was empty.

“You…little shit. Coming here, attacking me, blowing up my fucking building. Over some bitch who can’t keep her mouth shut—“

And those were his last words. Before bullet went straight into the side of his skull, loosening the grip on nose ankle. Gazing at the bullet hole, he follows the path that the bullet took to see Matthew holding up the gun that was used to kill the head of the mafia. The heavy weapon shook in his hole from the adrenaline and trauma that his body has endured.

He stands up and walks to Noah. He grabs his arm and swings it over his shoulders, holding his waist as they stumble out of the burning building. With every step, Noah felt his lungs grow tighter, and his ankle burn. Matthew was saying something, but he couldn’t exactly make out what it was.

His body felt weak, as if he was ready to collapse and fade into darkness, spiraling down towards an endless hell for all the crimes he had committed. His breath was short, and he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

The only thing he could hear from Matthew’s muffled words was your name. Just the sound of your name. It was almost as if his life started flashing before his eyes. All he could see was you—your smile, the way your nose crinkles in the cold, the way you always sat in the same spot on the couch. Everything about you filled his mind…those eyes…those eyes he loved.

how he'd love to see them before....before....bef....

Y/N

"NOAH!" you screamed watching the place go up in flames. Noah's men flooding out of the doors running back to safety. His men were there...but Noah wasn't. You're back on your feet stumbling to the building but Folio stops you

"Y/N don't! Stop what are you doing-"

"Noah is in there I have to-"

"Y/N you can't go int here you'll get yourself killed!"

"Noah is in there!" you slowly stop fighting as you watch the flames devouring and breaking down the building. You could feel yours eyes burn with tears as Nick guides you back until you see a figure walking towards you.

"Noah?" you whispered. as they come into view you see it's Matthew practically dragging Noah away from the building. He makes a few more steps until they both fall to the ground. Nick stops moving and turns back to look behind him, Jolly starts to rush over and so do you. You run to them, you heart is pounding, your hands sweaty and your eyes full of tears and hope. You get to them and fall to your knees

"Noah, Noah? Noah look at me!" you bring his head into your lap, his eyes were closed and his breathing shallow "Noah please! Open your eyes.....Please!" you sniff as your tears fall from your eyes and on to his face

"Please....I need you to wake up....please....I love you..." you wrap your arms around his body as best as you could and rock him in your arms, "I love you..I love you...I love you...please...." your body starts to shake from your cries

Jolly steps toward you carefully, ready to comfort and console you

"Noah...please wake up...please baby look at me please....I....I need you..."

"Y/N....come on let's get back to the-"

*COUGH COUGH* Noah's body convulses in coughs as his lungs fill with clear air and comes back to consciousness. Your hands come up to brush the hair from his eyes and to caress his dirty but soft skin

"Noah...Noah you're alive..." he gives you a weak smirk and says

"I couldn't....*cough* not say I love you back,"

“You’re so….stupid,” you said as Noah does his best to hold you in his arms. He knew that those words meant that you were glad he was alive. And he was beyond grateful to have seen your face again. But most of all to hear that sweet face of those three words. While you checked on Matthew Noah was carried back to the van by Nick and Jolly.

His men would arrive later to cover up the scene, making it look as if nothing had happened. For now, you both needed medical attention. In the van, Nick insisted on giving you a full body scan. You protested, saying you were fine and just a bit roughed up. But Nick knew better than to skip medical treatment. Noah would never let it go if even one scratch on your body was left untreated. In your opinion, Noah, who was severely roughed up, needed most of the attention.

As Nick looked over the scans from VAN's medical scan he stopped for a second to overlook something.

"Y/N, do you feel strange at all?"

"well, aside from my cheek I'm just fine," you said slightly flinching as Noah applied a cold pack to your cheek. Nick printed out the results on the screen and handed it to you both. Reading through the reading as best as you could one word stood out to you. Your eyes were blown wife, Noah took the paper from you and looked it over again and again,

"I think we should get you to a hospital before we confirm anything...but in the mean time....it looks like you're going to need a bigger car Noah,"

"so.....what happens now? Especially with this?" you asked and Noah looks at you. His hand comes up to caress your face. His thumb running over the skin under your eye

"now....." his other hand comes down to your stomach and rests on top of it. Knowing what his future holds, what he has to do, and who he has to do it for. Your forehead comes to meet his, beat up, bleeding and bruised and all he could feel in this moment was his love for you and your baby,

"We rebuild this kingdom our way.…”

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

END

Taglist🥃] @madiomens @aubrey-melinoe @artificialbreezy @daylightlvrs @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @artificialstardust @lizzyanthony3 @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @lust-for-sacher @missduffsblog @thecartelqueen @twyftwyt @thenoahsebastianfiles @spiderblog-mcu @sorrowsofsilence @chemicallady @chemicaltendancies @shilohrosechicken @thefallennightmare @crimson-calligraphyx @calleyx13 @iknownothingpeople @lilhobgobbler @niicoleleigh @badomensls @ladispo0p @skulliecadaver-blog @malixxxmizer @kageyasma @samanthasgone @the-ancient-fae @lacktoesandtoddlerants @blackveilomens @thebadchic @badomensbabe @dsireland86 @ebechnasheim @somewhere-diamond @hayleylatour @raydenrrobertson @sundamariis @red-ace-in-space @rosebushjhj

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[neonravengames]

⚘ Sword of Spring ⚘ Romance Options

Throughout your time in Tir Arandor, you'll be able to bond with other characters.

Some things to note:

All ROs are playersexual. Meaning you can romance them no matter what your gender is.

You can be Asexual

All explicit scenes can be skipped.

These relationships will span over multiple years, and the ages listed are the characters' ages during their 'commitment' scene.

The (current) poly option is Taryn/MC/Ali

Taryn - They/Them

Taryn, the second-born of the royal family, is a whirlwind of laughter and energy in a world that often feels too serious. With a sharp wit and a playful spirit, they bring a sense of joy to the stifling halls of Tir Arandor. But behind their humorous facade lies a deep struggle. Often called "The Spare," Taryn yearns for change, craving the freedom to carve their own path, yet they often feel powerless and trapped by the weight of their birthright. While their father supports Taryn's whimsical nature, their older brother—Lucian—watches with a mix of exasperation and concern. He carries the expectations of the kingdom on his shoulders and often finds Taryn's antics annoying, even as he understands the pressure they both face. As the responsibility of royal duty looms closer, Taryn finds themselves torn between their desire to be true to themselves and the role they must eventually embrace. Will you stand by Taryn as they navigate the treacherous waters of court life? Or will your growing feelings for them complicate their journey towards destiny?

Rhiannon - She/Her

Rhiannon is a formidable presence within the castle, a wall of strength and discipline as the best swordsman in Tir Arandor. With her striking red hair and unwavering focus, she commands respect in every training session and fight. But behind her stoic facade lies a heart riddled with doubts and fears that she dares not show. As the oldest child of the castle blacksmith, Rhiannon has trained tirelessly to prove herself worthy of respect—not just from the court but from the family she fiercely protects. Her loyalty to Taryn and the royal family runs deep, and she would lay down her life to fulfill her duty. However, earning her respect is no easy feat; she expects nothing less than absolute dedication from herself and those around her. If you can break through her defenses, the bond you forge will be unbreakable, and she may be your greatest ally or your most formidable opponent. Will you help her confront the fears that haunt her, or will your growing feelings complicate her already tumultuous world?

Lirien- He/Him

Lirien sweeps into the court of Tir Arandor like a whisper of wind through the Shadowbloom. Playful, charismatic, and brimming with secrets, he quickly becomes a figure of intrigue and danger. As the Fae ambassador, Lirien carries with him the weight of Val'Arath’s mysteries, never revealing more than he chooses to. His motives are as elusive as his smile, and his every word dances between truth and deception as he balances the unpredictability of Human/Fae relations. Despite his light-hearted demeanor, Lirien is anything but careless. There’s an edge to his charm, and his playful flirtations are laced with a deeper, more dangerous game. Will you risk getting closer to him, knowing the secrets he keeps could unravel everything? A relationship with Lirien may be intoxicating, but the price of his affection could be higher than you imagine.

Morgan - Female/NB (maybe)

Morgan serves as the apprentice to the king’s magic advisor, quietly mastering the arcane arts within the castle’s stone walls. With an analytical mind and a keen understanding of magical theory, Morgan is often reserved, preferring the company of dusty tomes and ancient scrolls to the political intrigues of the court. Their distant demeanor hides a fierce intellect and a deep curiosity about the world—and about you. While their loyalty to the crown is unwavering, Morgan is not without ambition. They seek knowledge and power, but also connection, something deeper that may lie beyond the realms of conventional magic. Your relationship with Morgan could blossom into a powerful bond, though magic always comes with a price. Will you explore the mysteries of the arcane together, or will the secrets they guard come between you?

Sorin - Selectable

Quiet, kind, and ever watchful, Sorin has devoted their life to healing others. As the castle’s healer, their days are spent mending wounds and tending to the sick. They rarely speak of their own pain, preferring to pour their energy into helping those in need. With healing magic that requires as much strength as it does compassion, they stand as a beacon of calm in the midst of the court’s chaos. But behind their gentle smiles lies a deeper hurt—one they’ve kept hidden for years. Will you be the one to earn their trust and help them confront the scars they carry? A relationship with Sorin/Sylvie is one of patience and empathy, requiring you to look past their exterior and discover the resilient heart that beats beneath.

Ali - Selectable

Alister/Alista (Ali) is the person chosen to marry Taryn, a union forged out of political necessity rather than love. The ninth born to a distant noble house with a reputation for ambition, they’ve been raised to fulfill the expectations of the court. Graceful, intelligent, and always composed, they are well aware of the duties that come with their position. While they seem resigned to their fate, there’s a quiet yearning beneath the surface—whether it’s for freedom from their obligations or a deeper connection with Taryn, even they may not fully understand. As the royal betrothal takes shape, your arrival throws everything into question. Will you challenge the expectations placed upon them or help forge a lasting bond with Taryn that’s more than mere politics?

[procyonloser]

another mini fic light horror edition with adamsapple hints

Adam knew Lilith's new husband was a freak, he just had to prove it. The little guy showed up out of fuckin' nowhere, and starts making everyone swoon, even though he was all of 5 foot nothing. His job is a mystery, his background is a mystery - he had no social media, nothing nowhere.

Lucian M. Estrella.

He lived in a weirdly huge house on the outskirts of town with Lilith, which was weird on another fucking level, because Adam had grown up in this town his entire life, and he was certain that house had never been here before. He used to come out here, drive out to the quarry, getting drunk, high, and doing whatever the fuck he wanted because there was nothing better to do. He'd been down that road hundreds of times, he didn't remember ever seeing it. Eve told him he was being paranoid, they probably just cut down bushes or repainted, that's why it didn't look familiar.

No fucking way.

Adam pulled up a window on the side of the house and pulled himself inside. It was dark, all dark inside, which was what he'd hoped for. Lilith said she was going on vacation with her new husband, and everyone fawned over the two of them. The whole town had gone fucking mad and stupid, always chatting about how great they were, how amazing Lucian was. No, Adam thought to himself as he lifted his flashlight to look around the kitchen.

There was something here, and he was going to find it.

He walked around cautiously, wood creaking under each of his steps, as though the house was ancient, but there was not a hint of ware on anything and there was still a sharp scent of freshly laid paint. The house barely looked lived in, it looked like a prop, a movie set. Adam could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing up as he progressed through the place, noticing there were no pictures on any of the walls. The furniture had no dips in it from where you'd expect folks to have been sitting. There was no dust.

A door creaked behind him, and Adam spun, heart jumping up into his chest, but it didn't seem to be anything, just old joints in the house moaning. Adam let the door fall open more, and realized it was steps into the basement, where it looked like there was a light at the very end of the steps. Adam swallowed hard, having seen one too many horror movies, but he was 6'4 and had muscle and bulk on his side. He'd been in more scraps and fights than he needed to admit to. There's no way Lucian could actually do anything to him.

Adam took the steps, wrinkling his nose as he went further down. Something stunk, like death, soil, and fire - with a hint of something else, sulfur maybe? Adam got to the very bottom of the basement, and his stomach dropped. There were weird markings across the walls, sigils of some sort painted in what looked like blood, across every given surface of the place - and there on the floor, were bodies. Dismembered pieces knit together with pieces of some kind of goat or sheep.

But, Adam knew some of these people, these bodies. He'd seen them before, just today. Before he left to drive out here, he'd past them in town, he knew he had. Adam's hands began to shake looking down upon them, there was no way, they were rotting to the point that they couldn't be the same people he'd seen earlier. Then how were they here? What the fuck was going on

SLAM

Adam spun on his heels and looked upwards, towards the staircase. He heard each step creaks as someone slowly descended down to meet him. Adam balled up his fist, ready to fucking fight his way out of here if it was the last thing he did, he wasn't going to go out like a bitch on his knees.

Lucian stepped down into sight, and appraised Adam coolly. "Adam."

"You're a fucking monster," Adam whispered, before his voice broke into a shout. "What the fuck have you done?!"

Lucian tilted his head, eyebrow raised. "What you wanted."

Adam's eyebrows knit together, and he shook his head. "What the fuck are you talking about-"

"As you left today, Janice Slough and Judy King stepped infront of your car, making you slam on the breaks. You wished they'd disappear." Lucian said slowly, and Adam froze. "You passed Garret Pecking as you turned onto 13th Street, and you remembered he owed you money in highschool he never repaid. You wanted something terrible to happen to him."

Adam's heart slammed in his throat. How did he know all of that? He hadn't even really meant it, he just had been annoyed, it wasn't like that. Wait.

"Where's Lilith?" Adam whispered, horrified by what Lucian was about to say.

"You wanted her to have a good husband, didn't you? You still loved her, you wished her the best. Then, you wished for her to just... Disappear when you realized she'd never love you back." Lucian smiled, and it was sharp. All of his teeth were pointed like a shark. "I'm surprised you haven't caught on by now, Adam. You recognize this house, don't you?"

Adam's lip trembled as he looked around. It wasn't like a horror movie. It was exactly like a horror movie he'd seen as a kid. He always thought the house looked cool, he'd wanted to explore one like the ill fated teens had in the film.

Lucian walked closer and Adam dropped his flashlight, but even as the light went out, the room stayed a reddish glow. He drew closer and closer until Adam was backed up against the wall. Wings spread out from Lucians back as he looked up at Adam, eyes turning a sickly gold bathed in red. Horns curled out of his skull, ripping through the skin like it was just a costume he was wearing.

"Now, Adam, isn't it time you said my true name? You're the one who summoned me here afterall."

Adam had flashes of memories dart through his mind, of drunkenly and jokingly reading off some nonsense he'd seen online, trying to summon a demon to do your bidding. Adam had been down at the quarry, alone, divorced, and just wanting something. Something that wouldn't abandon him, that would love him, that would be loyal to him. And when he went big, he went big. Adam wasn't about to summon some minor demon, no, he'd attempted to summon-

"Lucifer," Adam whispered, and the lights went out.

[asciendo]

Resurgence of the Falling Chapter 4

Summary: Eren Jaeger is resurrected centuries after the Rumbling, only to find the world still in turmoil, with Eldians oppressed and Marleyans in control. The Jaegerists ask for his help in protecting their people, but there’s a catch: Eren must be bethrothed and father an heir with the power to end the cycle of Titans once and for all.

content: eren jaeger x female reader

Warning: smut, violence, swearing

Tag list: @vlsquuu  @faerie-soirxx @amanda08319

Chapters: Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 5

Over the next few days, Y/N saw more of Eren. He continued to join her for meals, exchanging a few words here and there. There were times he would join her in the library, silently reading his own book. Y/N began to wonder what his intentions were with her. She knew what the ultimate result was, but she wondered why he was suddenly making an effort.

One quiet afternoon in the library, Y/N noticed Eren enter and take a seat across from her. He opened a book without saying a word. She looked up from her own reading, unable to hold back her curiosity any longer.

"Why are you here?" she asked, her voice soft but direct.

Eren looked up, a flicker of surprise in his eyes before his usual calm expression returned. "I like the quiet," he replied simply.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "You could find quiet anywhere. Why here?"

He hesitated, his fingers tracing the edge of the book. "Maybe I wanted some company," he said after a moment.

Her heart skipped a beat at the admission, but she pushed forward. "Why me? Of all people, why did you pick me?"

Eren froze, his gaze locking with hers. For a moment, it seemed like he might answer, but then he closed his book abruptly and stood. "Some things don’t have simple answers," he said, his voice low. Without another word, he walked out, leaving Y/N alone and more confused than ever.

After that, Eren stopped joining her for meals. Y/N noticed his absence and couldn’t shake the feeling that he was avoiding her. She decided to drop the matter, unwilling to push him further.

One night, Y/N was jolted awake by the sound of alarm bells echoing through the mansion—the signal for an intruder. Heart pounding, she quickly got out of bed and made her way toward the nearest exit. As she turned a corner, she was suddenly grabbed and slammed against the wall.

A man loomed over her, his grip tight on her arm. "Who are you?!" he demanded, his voice sharp. Y/N remained silent, her mind racing. From somewhere nearby, she heard a familiar voice shout, "Find Eren Jaeger’s betrothed!"

The man’s eyes widened in shock. "E-Eren Jaeger… is trying to continue his line," he muttered, realization dawning. Y/N’s blood ran cold as she realized the intruder was a Marleyan.

Summoning her courage, she kicked the man’s shin with all her strength. He grunted in pain and staggered back, but before she could escape, he grabbed her again and shoved her to the ground. As he loomed over her, ready to strike, he was suddenly yanked back by the collar and thrown across the room.

Y/N looked up to see Eren standing over her, his expression furious. Without a word, Lucian and his men arrived, seizing the Marleyan and dragging him away. Eren crouched next to her, his eyes scanning her for injuries.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

Y/N nodded slowly, still shaken. Eren stood and barked an order for everyone to leave them alone. He helped her to her feet and led her to the kitchen. To her surprise, he lifted her onto the table. She stared at him, wide-eyed, as he retrieved an ice pack and gently pressed it against the side of her head.

She winced slightly, and he murmured, "Sorry." When he was done, he stepped back, his expression unreadable. Without another word, he left her sitting there, confused and alone.

The next day, during the council meeting, Eren’s fury was palpable. "How did the intruder get in?" he demanded, his voice echoing through the room.

Lucian stepped forward. "He’s due for questioning today, but this incident means we need to accelerate our plans."

The council members turned to Eren, waiting for his decision. He sighed heavily. "Before anything, I want to know how he got in. He almost hurt Y/N," he said, his tone resolute. Without waiting for a response, he left the meeting and headed home.

When he arrived, he saw Y/N sitting quietly in the garden, the sunlight casting a gentle glow around her. Watching her from a distance, Eren clenched his fists and made a silent vow. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her again.

[sister-lucifer]

HEY, YOU

Yes, you!

Do YOU like the idea of a gay polyamorous romance taking place in a fantastical medieval setting?

then you might like my upcoming original written series, Royal Courting!

Featuring the following cast of characters:

Lucian Hensley

A fair skinned, pudgy baker standing at about 5’4 with hazel-green eyes and a thatch of dirty blond hair that falls in thick curls around his freckled face. He’s usually wearing his beloved handmade crocheted sweater, the same color as his eyes, despite the wear and tear it’s received over the years. Nothing he wears is particularly fancy, but it’s all very well loved and cared for.

Though he’s not ashamed of the weight he’s gained from the years of sampling his own baked goods, he’s easily flustered by any sort of comments on his physical appearance, regardless of how mild, possibly related to his gender identity as a transgender man. He’s humble and incredibly kind, sometimes to a fault. 

King Ambrose Verlice of Divestia

A dark skinned, slim man standing at about 5’7 with sharp brown eyes and a slightly effeminate nature about him. His dark hair is done together in thick locs so impossibly long they nearly brush the floor, decorated with gold cuffs and never less than perfectly maintained. He’s always wrapped in white and gold with jewelry to match. Any one of his outfits is worth more than every house Lucian has ever lived in combined.

He commands respect from all who lay eyes upon him, but knows how to use a gentle hand. It’s easy to get caught up in his flowery language, but beneath the purple prose and irresistible urge to flirt is a genuine heart of gold. 

Tobias Silva

A toned man of Colombian descent with tan skin standing at about 5’9, with brown eyes and curly brown hair that’s cut short and shaved underneath, but left longer on top, still allowing a few curly strands to fall over his face. He’s got a foxy way about him and always has a smug, closed-lipped grin on his face that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners and dimples form in his warm cheeks.

He tends to keep his armor rather minimal to maximize his speed, but he’s got daggers hidden just about everywhere one can hide daggers on their person. If he’s being quiet, he’s probably busy scheming with his colleague and friendly rival, Rex. 

Rex Theroux 

Rex is a tall, pale, transgender man standing at about 6’1 with downturned blue eyes and shoulder length, golden-blond hair that curls a bit at the ends and is usually drawn into a loose, low ponytail that often leaves strands hanging around the sides of his head. Contrary to Tobias, he keeps his muscular form clad in armor at all times.

He’s the stoic tank of the duo, and proud of it. He’s completely mute and has never spoken a word to Tobias nor his king, but communicates with both Divestian sign language and his own unique methods. The only time anyone even sees his mouth is when he eats, as it’s usually covered with a neck gaiter. The scars that litter his limbs and body show his impossible resilience, but no one has ever heard the stories behind them.

When Tobias and Rex stop in at Lucian’s humble bakery, they’re completely amazed both by what they taste, and the man they see behind the counter. When a batch of these baked goods reaches king Ambrose, he demands to see the wonderful artisan who created them, and Lucian’s simple life is thrown into a whirlwind when he receives an official summon from his majesty himself.

Are you interested? Stick around! Chapter one of Royal Courting: Summoned By The King is in progress now! You can find the Royal Courting masterlist (among others) in my pinned post!

If you like this idea, please reblog! It’s free, takes two seconds, and helps spread my ideas to more people!

You can find me on AO3 as Sister_Lucifer; everything here is cross posted there!

dividers by @cafekitsune

[elvisbdoll]

The Mystery In Memphis

Chapter 2: The Stranger

Last episode: The Clock Tower

The neon glow of Memphis’s streetlights danced on the slick pavement as Elvis pulled his collar up against the chill of the early evening. His guitar case swung in one hand, and the leather soles of his boots clicked in rhythm with the jazz spilling from the open doors of a café. Red had called him with urgency earlier, saying something about a mysterious person wanting to meet him. It sounded crazy, but if Red thought it was important, then Elvis figured he might as well hear the stranger out.

“Alright, Presley,” he muttered to himself, pausing to glance at his reflection in a shop window. He ran a hand through his jet-black hair, tilting his head to inspect his pompadour. “Lookin’ good. Ain’t no mystery too tough for you, baby.”

The door to the café creaked open as he stepped inside. It was the kind of place where the regulars didn’t need menus and the staff knew everyone’s name. The smell of coffee and fried bacon hung in the air. Elvis spotted Red leaning against the counter, a thick mug of coffee in hand.

“You’re late,” Red said, his mouth curling into a grin. “Thought you might’ve chickened out.”

“Late? Hoss, I’m always on time. Time just has to catch up to me.” Elvis shot him a wink and a grin as he set his guitar case down by the counter. “So, where’s this mysterious somebody?”

Red tilted his head toward a shadowy booth in the back. “Right over there. Goes by the name Lucian. Weird vibe, though. You sure you wanna do this?”

“Do I wanna do this? Man, I live for weird vibes,” Elvis quipped, giving Red a playful shove before sauntering toward the booth.

Seated in the booth was someone who didn’t look like they belonged in 1950s Memphis—or maybe even on planet Earth. A sleek suit that caught the light in strange ways clung to the figure like a second skin. Short, dark hair framed sharp cheekbones, and when the stranger looked up, their gray eyes seemed to pierce right through Elvis.

“Well, ain’t you a picture,” Elvis said as he slid into the booth, his elbows resting on the table. “Name’s Elvis Presley. I hear you’ve been askin’ about me. Hope you don’t expect an autograph.”

The stranger’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Elvis. As charming as they say.” Their voice was low and smooth, but there was something about it—a slight lilting accent—that Elvis couldn’t quite place.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Elvis said, leaning back with an easy grin. “So, Lucian, is it? What’s your game? You a music producer, or are you here to tell me I’ve won a free car?”

Lucian’s smile widened just a fraction. “No games, Mr. Presley. I’m here to talk about your journal.”

Elvis blinked, his humor dropping for just a second. “My journal? Now, how in the Sam Hill do you know about that?”

Lucian leaned forward, their gray eyes locking onto his. “Let’s just say… I have a vested interest in ensuring it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

Elvis studied them, his playful grin returning as he tried to deflect the tension. “You know, I meet a lot of folks, but you’ve got a real knack for bein’ mysterious. Lemme guess, you’re with the FBI? CIA? Or are you one of them fellas who tells fortunes at the fair?”

Lucian chuckled softly, the sound surprising Elvis. “I can see why they call you the King. But I’m not here for jokes. I’m here to help you understand what you’ve stumbled upon—and why it matters.”

The seriousness in their voice sent a chill down Elvis’s spine, but he didn’t let it show. “Alright, alright,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “You’ve got my attention. Tell me about this journal.”

Lucian’s smile faded as they reached into their coat and pulled out a small object. It was a pocket watch, but not like any Elvis had seen before. Its surface shimmered faintly, and strange symbols pulsed across its face, almost alive.

“This,” Lucian said, setting the watch on the table between them, “is connected to the journal you found. Together, they can guide you to something incredible. But they can also lead to disaster if used by the wrong people.”

Elvis frowned, leaning closer to inspect the watch. “This some kinda magic trick? You gonna pull a rabbit outta your coat next?”

“It’s no trick,” Lucian said quietly. “And it’s not magic. It’s science—far beyond what you know in this timeline.”

Elvis froze, the word “timeline” ringing in his ears. “Hold up. What do you mean by ‘this timeline’? You tryin’ to tell me you’re from the future or somethin’?”

Lucian’s gaze didn’t waver. “Not exactly. But I’m not from here either.”

The way they said it, so matter-of-fact, made Elvis laugh nervously. “Okay, now I know you’ve been hittin’ the sauce. You expect me to believe you’re some kinda… what, alien?”

Lucian’s lips twitched, almost a smile. “Not an alien. But I am… displaced. From another time. Another version of this world.”

Elvis opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. He thought about the journal—the strange symbols, the cryptic messages—and about the woman he’d seen in the alleyway, the way she’d disappeared in a flash of light.

“You’re serious,” he said finally, his voice quieter now.

“Deadly serious,” Lucian replied.

Elvis rubbed the back of his neck, trying to wrap his head around everything. “Alright, let’s say I believe you. What does any of this have to do with me?”

Lucian’s expression softened, and for the first time, Elvis saw something human in their eyes—something vulnerable. “The journal chose you, Elvis. You’re not just some musician chasing a dream. You have a part to play in something much bigger than yourself.”

Elvis laughed, the sound tinged with disbelief. “Bigger than me? Hoss, I’m just a guy who sings songs and shakes his hips. I ain’t no hero.”

Lucian leaned forward, their gaze intense. “Heroes aren’t chosen because they’re ready. They’re chosen because they’re needed. And right now, you’re needed.”

Elvis stared at them, his humor fading as the weight of their words sank in. He didn’t want to believe any of this—didn’t want to think about timelines or disasters or playing hero. But deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were right.

“Alright,” he said finally, his voice steady. “What do we do next?”

Lucian’s smile returned, faint but genuine. “First, we find the next clue. The journal and this watch will guide us. But we’ll need to move quickly. There are others who want the journal—and they won’t hesitate to use force to get it.”

“Great,” Elvis muttered, shaking his head. “Guess I better lace up my blue suede shoes for runnin’, huh?”

Lucian chuckled, and for the first time, Elvis saw them as more than just some mysterious figure with a cryptic mission. There was something about their laugh—soft and genuine—that made him feel… curious.

“Don’t worry,” Lucian said, their voice lighter now. “You’ll get used to it.”

Elvis leaned back, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. But tell me one thing—if you’re from another timeline, does that mean you know how this all ends?”

Lucian’s smile faltered, and their gaze dropped to the watch. “No. I don’t. And that’s why we have to keep going. Together.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the hum of the café’s jukebox filling the space between them. Elvis watched Lucian, his mind racing with questions he didn’t know how to ask. He didn’t fully trust them—not yet. But there was something about them, something he couldn’t ignore.

And if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to ignore it.

Elvis ran a hand through his hair, leaning back in the booth. His eyes flicked to the pocket watch on the table. The symbols on its face shimmered faintly, almost hypnotic.

“So,” Elvis drawled, trying to lighten the mood, “we’re just gonna let this little gizmo tell us where to go? What if it sends us to, I dunno, the middle of a swamp or somethin’? I didn’t exactly bring my gator boots.”

Lucian chuckled softly. “It’s more precise than that. The watch reacts to the journal—it’ll guide us to the next piece of the puzzle. But only if we work together.”

Elvis raised an eyebrow, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Work together, huh? And what happens if I decide to walk outta here, huh? Take that journal and shove it under my mattress? Not sayin’ I will, but… you know, hypothetically.”

Lucian’s gaze met his, steady and unflinching. “Then you’ll be hunted. And not just by me.”

Elvis let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Man, you sure know how to make a fella feel special.”

Lucian’s lips twitched, almost a smile. “Trust me, Elvis. You’re more special than you realize.”

He leaned back again, his playful grin returning. “You keep talkin’ like that, and I might start blushin’. But alright, I’ll bite. Where’s this watch gonna send us?”

Lucian reached for the watch, their fingers brushing against its surface. The symbols began to pulse faster, the faint hum growing louder. Elvis sat up straighter, his curiosity piqued.

“It’s reacting,” Lucian said softly. “The journal—it’s trying to lead us to the next clue.”

Before Elvis could respond, the watch let out a sharp, metallic chime, and a beam of light shot from its face. The light formed a glowing map on the table, its lines shifting and swirling until they settled on a familiar street corner in downtown Memphis.

Elvis blinked, pointing at the map. “That’s Beale Street! Man, I was just there last week. They got the best ribs you’ll ever taste. You ever try ribs, Lucian? Or is that not somethin’ they got in your… timeline?”

Lucian gave him an amused look. “Focus, Elvis. The watch is guiding us to something important. We need to move quickly.”

“Alright, alright,” Elvis said, sliding out of the booth and grabbing his guitar case. “But I’m tellin’ you now—if we’re gonna be runnin’ all over Memphis, we’re stoppin’ for ribs at some point. It’s non-negotiable.”

Lucian followed him, the faintest smile playing on their lips. “We’ll see.”

The night air hit them as they stepped outside, the city alive with the sounds of blues music and distant laughter. Elvis tilted his head, listening to the rhythm of the city he loved.

“You know,” he said, glancing at Lucian, “you never answered my question earlier. What’s your deal? Why’s somebody from another timeline runnin’ around Memphis lookin’ for journals and watches? Don’t you folks have, like, hovercars or somethin’ to keep you busy?”

Lucian hesitated, their eyes flicking to the ground. “It’s… complicated.”

Elvis stopped walking, turning to face them. “Complicated, huh? Well, lucky for you, I’m a real good listener. Got all night, darlin’.”

Lucian looked up, meeting his gaze. For a moment, Elvis thought he saw something flicker in their expression—regret, maybe. Or sorrow.

“My world…” Lucian began, their voice quieter now. “It’s gone. Destroyed by the very fracture I’m trying to stop here.”

Elvis blinked, taken aback by the raw emotion in their voice. “Gone? You mean—”

“Everything,” Lucian said, cutting him off. “Everything I knew, everyone I loved—it’s all gone. Because I failed to stop the fracture in time.”

Elvis was silent for a moment, his usual humor slipping away. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

Lucian shook their head, a faint smile tugging at their lips. “You didn’t know. But that’s why I’m here, Elvis. This is my chance to fix things. To make sure your world doesn’t suffer the same fate as mine.”

Elvis stared at them, a new respect blossoming in his chest. He cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, I gotta say, you’re a lot braver than me. If I was in your shoes, I’d probably be hidin’ under a bed somewhere.”

Lucian chuckled softly. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

They started walking again, the tension between them easing as they made their way toward Beale Street.

When they arrived, the street was alive with music and energy. Neon signs glowed in every color, and the sound of a harmonica drifted from a nearby bar. Elvis couldn’t help but grin, the familiar sights and sounds putting him at ease.

“Now this,” he said, gesturing to the lively scene around them, “this is what I’m talkin’ about. If you’re gonna save the world, might as well do it with some good music in the background.”

Lucian smirked. “Is everything a joke to you?”

“Not everything,” Elvis said, his grin softening. “But sometimes, laughin’ at the craziness of it all is the only thing that keeps you from losin’ your mind.”

Lucian studied him for a moment, their expression unreadable. “You’re not what I expected, Elvis Presley.”

He raised an eyebrow, his grin returning. “Oh yeah? And what’d you expect? Some dull ol’ fella with no sense of humor?”

Lucian’s lips twitched. “Something like that.”

“Well, lucky for you, you got me instead,” Elvis said, winking. “Now, let’s find this clue before somebody beats us to it.”

The watch led them to an old music shop tucked between two larger buildings. Its sign was faded, and the windows were dark. Elvis pushed open the door, the bell above it jingling softly.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of aged wood and dust. Instruments lined the walls, their strings glinting faintly in the dim light.

“Creepy,” Elvis muttered, his voice echoing slightly. “You sure this is the place?”

Lucian nodded, holding up the watch. Its glow intensified, casting strange shadows on the walls.

“Alright,” Elvis said, his voice quieter now. “Let’s see what we’re dealin’ with.”

As they moved deeper into the shop, the glow of the watch led them to a display case in the back. Inside, nestled among old sheet music and guitar picks, was a small metal key.

“That’s it,” Lucian said, their voice barely a whisper.

Elvis frowned. “A key? That’s what all this fuss is about?”

“It’s not just a key,” Lucian said, reaching for the case. ���It’s a—”

Before they could finish, the sound of footsteps echoed through the shop. Elvis spun around, his heart racing.

“Looks like we’ve got company,” he said, his voice low.

Lucian grabbed the key and slipped it into their pocket, their expression tense. “We need to go. Now.”

They turned to run, but the shop door slammed shut, and a group of shadowy figures stepped into view.

“Well, ain’t this just peachy,” Elvis muttered, raising his fists. “Guess we’re gonna have to do this the hard way.

Lucian glanced at him, a hint of amusement in their eyes. “Think you can handle it?

Elvis grinned. “Darlin’, I was born ready.”

[bardic-tales]

Tumblr Games: OC Prompts: Profile: Mordecai Delacroix

Thank you so much for the tag, @inkednotebook. I loved Teddy's appearance and his goals in yours.

Rules: Answer the prompts for an OC

I choose to fill this out for my newest OC, Mordecai Delacroix, my incubus who fought against Asmodeus to save his wife and lost. Mordecai plays an important role in Fantasy Worlds Collide, as it shows that demons can resist the call of a primordial demon, like Asmodeus.

Matt Bomer is Mordecai's face claim

Full name: Mordecai Alessio Delacroix (formerly Atticus)

Age: Over 2,000 years

Gender: Male

Species: Vampiric Incubi

Appearance: Mordecai is 6'1" (185 cm) with a lean, muscular build. His skin is often pale with nearly trimmed dark brown hair. He has very sharp facial features, including a chisled jawline and piercing grey eyes. His eyes turn blood-red when he is anger or he is feeding. He likes to wear tailored suits in very dark colors.

Occupation: CEO of Dark Light Publishing, a publishing house that caters to supernatural beings, such as he.

Family Members:

Spouse/Partner: Bianca Moore (wife)

Parents: Unknown Roman parents

Siblings: None known

Demonic “Father”: Asmodeus (not biological but influential)

Best Friends:

Lucian Grey: An ancient vampire who works as Mordecai's right-hand man at the publishing company. He’s a bit of a trickster and the only person who dares to challenge Mordecai's serious nature.

Isabella Tremaine: An old lover who specializes in magical artifacts and occult research. Mordecai relies on her expertise in supernatural matters and considers her one of the few people he can trust, outside of Bianca and Lucian.

Pets: None. He prefers a minimalist lifestyle and hates the idea of owning pets.

Describing their bedroom: His bedroom is spacious and uncluttered. He has a king-sized bed draped in black satin sheets. A black marble fireplace stands across the bed. Next to it is a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf filled with ancient texts and modern literature. A sleek desk sits in one corner with a laptop and a few scattered papers. His walk-in closet is organized by color and occasion: featuring mostly suits and former wear. There is few personal items, save for a framed portrait of a night date to the coast with Bianca.

Way of speaking: Mordecai speaks with a refined, aristocratic tone. His speech is deliberate. He very rarely raises his voice, as he doesn't need to. He will occasionally use archaic phrases. When agitated, his accent subtly shifts, revealing his ancient Roman roots.

Physical characteristics: Beyond what is already mentioned, he has no visible scars. He has demonic healing abilities like Bianca. His nails are kept short, but occasionally grow into sharp claws when his demonic nature is triggered.

Items in their bag/purse: Mordecai doesn’t typically carry a bag, as he prefers to carry briefcases. If he does, it would contain:

a leather-bound journal for note-taking

a small vial of Bianca's blood for emergencies

the latest iphone.

ancient coins to remind him of who he really is

Hobbies: Mordecai enjoys fencing, historical research, martial arts, reading, and playing the piano. He likes to manage his publishing company, finding comfort through history and literature. In his free time, he is often honing his swordsmanship or reading obscure occult texts by Aleister Crowley and the Ordo Templi Orientis.

Favorite Sport: Mordecai is not a fan of modern sports, like hockey or football, but he has an interest in fencing.

Abilities: As he is a demon, he has enhances strength, speed, and healing. He also has an enhanced scent of smell, as do all demons. As an incubus, he can manipulate emotions and desires. He avoids using his incubus powers, due to his grief. He is also well-versed in ancient languages, rituals, and supernatural lore. Mordecai is probably the person who knows Asmodeus the best, as he has dedicated his life to finding a way to destroy the demonic prince once and for all.

Relationships:

Bianca Moore: His wife, whom he deeply loves and protects. Their bond is built on mutual respect and shared trauma. He never consummated the marriage, respecting Bianca’s boundaries.

Asmodeus: A figure from his past who turned him into a vampiric incubus and serves as a constant threat.

Lucian Grey: His right-hand man at Dark Light Publishing and a trusted confidant. Their relationship is founded on centuries of camaraderie and shared struggles.

Fears:

He is terrified that he won't be able to protect Bianca from Asmodeus or even his own dark nature. He had already murdered his mirrored soul when he was first turned, as he had no control over his powers.

Despite his centuries of discipline, he is haunted by the fear of losing control and harming someone he loves by his bloodlust, as he did centuries ago.

He is fearful of fire as it reminds him of his transformation. He is very uneasy around flames.

Faults:

Mordecai has an overwhelming sense of guilt which often prevents him from moving forward. He is afraid that if he becomes entangled with someone he will harm them. However, meeting Bianca, Asmodeus' biological daughter and his tool for ascension, shook up his life.

He keeps others at arm's lengths to avoid causing them harm or facing his own emotions

He prefers to handle problems himself, leading to difficulty in delegating tasks or trusting others.

Good points:

Although he is distant, he is fiercely protective of those he cares about. This is illustrated when he sacrificed himself for Bianca's well-being.

Due to his love of history and literature, Mordecai is very well-read and resourceful.

Despite his internal struggles and who he currently is, he continues to be a bastion of light against Asmodeus' darkness. He will never allow the demonic lord to take Bianca and her soul.

What they want more than anything else: Mordecai desires redemption and to rid the world of Asmodeus and the other demons' influences. His ultimate wish is to ensure Bianca's safety and happiness, even if it means that he will have to sacrifice himself and send her to another dimension.

[pupsmailbox]

VAMPIRE ID PACK

NAMES︰ acheron. adelaide. adonis. adrian. adrienne. aero. alaric. alfonso. alistair. allure. alluria. altair. amber. ash. asher. ashlin. avenal. bara. batte. belladonna. bianca. bitelle. bitte. blade. blaine. blair. blaire. bloodette. bloodie. bloodier. carmilla. cathedral. cecilia. celeste. chatelaine. ciel. claude. claudia. coffina. corbin. count. countess. crimson. crowley. dali. damienne. dirge. dorian. drac. drusilla. eleleth. elisabeta. elizabeth. elspeth. eve. fangcheska. faustus. felix. feronia. gorey. gossamer. gothita. guinevere. hemlock. hesperia. ivy. james. jasper. jericho. juliet. karnage. kings. lenore. lilith. louis. luci. lucian. luciel. lucien. lucienne. lucious. lyn. magnus. marce. melancholy. mercer. miriam. morcant. mortem. mortis. muse. nikolas. nosferatu. onyx. orpheus. pandora. princely. raven. rhys. rosalie. salem. sangue. scarette. selene. shadow. silas. silhouette. silvias. stoker. suckite. talon. valeria. vamp. vampira. vampiress. vamplita. vampress. vampyr. vampyre. velvet. velvette. victor. victoria. viktor. viktoria. vile. ville. vincent. virtue. xander. zak.

PRONOUNS︰ bat/bat. bi/bite. bit/bite. bit/bitten. bite/bite. bite/vamp. bleed/bleeding. blo/blood. blood/bled. blood/blood. blood/bloody. bloody/bloody. bur/bur. clo/clot. cof/coffin. coffin/coffin. cor/corrupt. corp/corpse. cro/cross. crypt/crypt. curse/curse. cy/cyr. dae/daemon. dark/dark. dea/dead. dea/death. drac/drac. dri/drink. en/tombed. evil/evil. fa/fang. fang/fang. grave/grave. gri/grim. grime/grimey. hau/haunt. hex/hex. horror/horror. it/it. ix/ix. kill/kill. mist/mist. mor/morbid. ne/nem. ni/nightlife. night/night. ny/nyx. pale/pale. phan/phantom. pyr/pyr. re/red. red/red. rot/rot. roy/royal. scare/scare. sharp/sharp. si/sire. spook/spooky. stake/stake. su/suck. syl/syl. teef/teeth. tomb/tomb. un/dead. un/un. undead/undead. upir/upir. va/vamp. vam/vamp. vamp/vamp. vamp/vampire. vampi/vampire. vampir/vampiric. vampire/vampire. vampy/vampyre. vampyre/vampyre. ve/vir. vex/vex. vile/vile. wi/wine. xi/xir.

[piotrek-chomik]

I should draw it for real

[violetevermore24]

A Different Pride

So this fic took longer than expected. I tried my best to write Cero here and probably failed miserably at it /lh. This is mainly because it's the first time I wrote an egotistical prick like Cero.

I tried to draw the two for this because why not? Plus it's fun to draw Cero ngl, even if it was a bit challenging.

The sour grape, Cero and Reiba belongs to @eldritch-spouse. Please support the amazing artist/writer, she deserves it for making me interested and simp for her characters! 😄

CW: Mentions of Forced Marriage; Cero is his own warning; Toxic relationship; Mention of Egg-preg; Choking

Heavy footsteps of the Queen of Pride echoed the hallways with the team of imp servants scuttering about and dutifully fulfilling their roles. His towering body felt like an intimidating giant in comparison, one that radiates respect and coldness, fitting for his role as a ruler. The additional permanent aloofness only serves to support it. He didn’t even need to use his sharp violet eyes to know that his presence made the servants’ bodies tense up like statues despite working for him for several months, which was understandable given their King has the patience of a spoiled toddler and the Queen has the aura that screams ‘Test my patience and you will regret it’. 

Everyone in the mansion could tell that there was tension between the royal couple, but none dared to say a peep.

Lucian, a name he gave himself for centuries, has long blonde hair tied to the back - showing his smooth square face and forced to wear a face-cringing and stuffy suit in purple and black to match his husband. It was one he hated wearing from the amount of sweat he’d accumulated within the past few hours, and being in a hot environment like Hell doesn’t help. 

The purple scales on his hand and arms itched with the temptation to lull him into scratching it. It took all of his willpower to reign himself on an imaginary leash so he wouldn’t try ripping off his clothes just to feel a semblance of coolness brushing through his muscular body. If he did that, Cero would be popping more veins than Lucian growing more strands of grey hair, and while the image was enticing, another round of unnecessary tantrums made him mentally shove it into the depths of his mind.

Quiet frankly, the existence of Cero being the King of Pride was an indirect mockery to Lucian who he considers himself to embody the sin. So much so, that he wants the world to smite the pale demon on his behalf. 

The long and wide hallway of the mansion was dawned in hues of purple and black, in contrast to Lucian’s castle that’s in white and purple. The expensive and high-quality pieces of furniture and decorations in every corner and inch of the place would make any lower class cry in awe. 

The walls hung the many paintings of the King with his familiar yet disgusting arrogance and sharp facial features that reflected the Pride Ring it represented. The dreaded atmosphere lingered on those braved enough to walk into its unwelcoming embrace that threatened to suffocate you of all your worth.

Always striving for perfection, was what Lucian can describe as his asshole of a husband. He could hardly remember how many times he wanted to knock Cero’s ego down a peg over the course of their marriage. Hell, he sometimes thought of railing him to submissiveness every time he opened his mouth, no matter how much the idea made him grimace. The fucking demon is really edging him this far. It’s almost impressive.

He had no one but himself to blame for his predicament. His cold heart thumped when Cero showed him the contract, albeit a corrupted one, but a good one nonetheless. The way he holds himself. The way he explains the process of the contract, simultaneously expresses his pride for his skills and intelligence. It was the ideal courtship he imagined, minus the kidnapping, and he fell hard for it. Even if he didn’t, it wasn’t like he had any other choice. From what he learned, Icons of Hell are forces that shouldn’t be trifled with, and he could get severely injured in the process. Even if he did won, he had to crawl himself out of Hell and getting more injured from other demons. Whether they care about the death of the Icon of Pride or not is up in the air and Lucian won't take his chances.

Because of these raging fantasies that will lead to his ending, his footsteps quicken to speed walking pace towards the library, causing many of the passing servants to sweat drop from the intense aura he emits mixed with his resting bitch face. It’s a sanctuary for him and the one place he can indulge in his hobby while pretending he isn’t stuck in a prison that he can’t escape from. 

For once, he can fantasize a life where he was in a “better” relationship.

With someone who doesn’t say his handmade violet gemstone, an indirect ‘I love you. so. fucking. much’, that it wouldn’t look “perfect” for any artificial trinket. The gall to insinuate a dragon’s gem won’t look magnificent unless it’s turned into a fucking accessory is a personal insult to its creator. Oh if only that demon understood how much he left a crack in his Queen’s heart that day.

Just say my gem is garbage, you fuck. He huffed, brushing his blonde hair back.

Sure, the gem was not perfect, but Lucian had made countless attempts to form his scales into gems in secret for over a month, many of which were wasted because it wasn’t up to his standards, until it was exactly how he wanted to look. All those tiring days to form a singular scale into a suitable gemstone for his mate. Even, the head servant was willing to help keep his project hush-hush from Cero and give her different flavors of puddings for compensation. 

The result was an almost palm-sized, smooth purple gem with slight bumps, shaped like an oval. He vividly remembered how his chest puffed up with pride at his creation.

The failed creations still sat in his personal bedroom drawer to this day as a reminder of his endeavor and that hell forsaken reaction.

A part of his mind reminded him that it was a Pride Demon’s love language, to make everything about them and show little vulnerability, but that went one ear and out the other. 

The cold air seeps through the faint crack of the large door and embraces the newcomer as the door is pushed open and rumbles through the large and grand library, filled with thousands of books and organized into their categories. Cero had demanded that all of the servants ensure that not a single book was misplaced or damaged, lest they want to face the wrath of the Icon. An act that Lucian appreciates, almost made the edges of his lips tug up when no one was looking.

While he scans through the various shelves, one section catches his eyes and widens like saucers. There’s an entire six rows of novels with a hardcover and arranged in their perspective genres. The humanoid dragon didn’t recall ever seeing this new section and he doubted Cero was the kind to read these books, trying to search his already old memories to find answers, until one event came to mind, a complaint that he made to his husband about the lack of novels in the library and got told that his taste in books was god awful. Another petty grudge to hold against him.

The frown turned upside, forming into a genuine, rare, warm smile, forgetting his frustrations with his pompous husband. “You exceeded my expectations once again” He humored himself, as he took a random novel off the shelf and sat near the windowsill, turning to the first page. 

Lucian was already planning out his quality time with Cero in his mind, while simultaneously flipping through the pages and reading the sentences. Maybe he should start creating his second gem. A “perfect” one this time.

A serene ambiance settles into the library that day……

Why does it feel like he forgot something?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Insecurity is an ugly feeling to have, especially for a proud demon. It will gnaw at them till they do something to prove that little whisper in their heads that whatever degradation it throws their way is completely wrong, a lie that should never be said in the first place. 

Unfortunately, Cero can’t entirely control how his feelings and mind operate. Ever since he successfully made Lucian his Queen with the contract, something he put all his blood, sweat, and tears into despite the haste, and feeling waves of euphoria from the smooth process and his obedient (he isn’t) inamorato following diligently to the lessons he planned out to be a fitting Queen of Pride.

When Lucian gifted him the gemstone he put equal blood, sweat, and tears into that Cero’s ego was stroked into a disgusting smarmy smile and chest puffed up to an obnoxious degree. Heck, he even kept the gemstone in a separate safe after admiring it like a love-struck teenager whose crush just gave him a love letter.

While he wished it was better quality, the fact his inamorato offered him physical proof of his race’s eternal love - after a lot of painful waiting on the demon’s side, was good enough. Shame, he missed the flash of hurt and anger that came when the pallid demon expressed how his lovely gem wouldn’t be fitting for any accessories. Apart from their soon-to-be new wedding rings.

He wanted to return that affection, but no matter what he does, no matter how much he shows off his talent, intelligence, and his monologue about how ‘he must be lucky to have him as his husband and King and saving him from that pig’s pen of a home’. Going as far as showing his much softer side to the stubborn dragon, yet he couldn’t make a dent in his Queen’s stubborn walls. It was as if he expected something from him but didn’t know what it is.

What is wrong with him? Is it part of the courtship? Why isn’t he giving his King his usual physical touch? The soft gazes? The genuine adoration? Why is he trying so damn hard to not show it!? Whirlwinds of countless questions without answers were eating the demon alive.

Cero’s sharp claw of his index finger taps away at his forearm, filling the halls with his frustrations that threaten to explode. 

Poor Reiba is standing near him like a deer in headlights, being careful with her pose and speech lest she wants to be ripped in half in this minefield. She was also confused why the Queen grew distant from Cero, but she figured it must’ve been a cultural difference or a miscommunication.

The door to the library was left slightly ajar, and only one person would do it. 

The cold air from the room made the pallid demon shudder, regretting ever implementing the cold stones into the library so his inamorato wouldn’t melt into a pathetic puddle while he was reading. “That idiot is still doing this?! How many times do I need to drill it into his pathetic excuse of a memory until he understands?!” 

Various images of how he will discipline his dumb Queen. Ranging from whipping to overstimulating till the dragon begged for him to stop with big fat tears. It caused his shaft to almost slip out of his slit at the mere thought of it. How embarrassing. 

The two demons brace themselves with cold resistance magic before entering the library. Cero strides elegantly towards the spot near the windowsill like it was second nature. 

“Is there something you need from me, Cero?” Lucian quips as he raises his head from the book. It’s always amusing to see Cero and Reiba shivering from the cold.

The pallid demon crossed his arms, glared daggers at the dragon, and a scowl plastered his white facade with patches of salmon. “You better have a good reason for leaving the door open again!” Ah here it is, his incessant whining. Classic.

Lucian internally scoffed at it, knowing full well that he did it on purpose to lure him here. Time to flatter him, much to the dragon’s dismay. “I’m so sorry, my beloved King. My carelessness has prevented me from being a worthy Queen to someone as handsome and amazing as you. Is it so wrong of me to wish to see your beautiful eyes and hear your voice that lulls me in like a siren?” He offers a small smile as an extra.

Gods above, he wants to gag and hurl from saying such cheesy lines. He couldn’t believe he stooped this low for self-preservation. 

The silence is all the answers he needs. He could see his chest puff up and a slight flush on his cheeks from his ego being preened. Even though Lucian could be bullshiting every word. 

Once Cero’s mood has been lifted, the dragon sees fit to clear up something. 

The Queen makes a hand gesture for Reiba to leave the two in private, knowing the aftermath could become worse if she stays and he cannot afford to have her get caught in the crossfire. 

The pale imp went still as statue, and glanced to her king for his input. Fortunately, Cero waves his hand to dismiss the head servant. It’s done out of curiosity and intrigue on the demon’s side, as Reiba leaves the library.

Once Lucian is sure that the two are alone, he’s the first to break the silence. “While you’re here, I want to clear a misunderstanding between us”

“A misunderstanding?” Cero raised an eyebrow. Attentively listening to what he has to say.

“I’m aware that dragons are rare species, let alone knowledge of us aside from mythologies humans created. The gem I gave you the other day. It’s why I want to explain that it’s used as a vessel to store energy for when the mother requires more stamina before labor to ensure a safe birth and usually the gem is eaten raw” He explains with his stoicness, letting it sink in.

A reminder that they can’t have a biological heir, at least to him. The demon’s face morphs into a look that says ‘So what?’ mixed with impatience and offense. “That’s it?” 

Lucian didn’t think Cero would be this oblivious to the message, but he’s not complaining. If anything, the dragon is internally elated for the grand reveal. One that will surely dig his own grave. “I wish to save this last information until I create a second gem for you, my beautiful King. But since you’re curious….” 

“Get to it already! I don’t have all day!” 

“The gem is also used as an artificial egg for same-sex couples. The process simply needs you to shove the gem into your anus and I-” 

Cero immediately grabbed Lucian’s neck in a blink of an eye before he could finish the sentence. The former’s sharp claws, which he diligently filed and maintained to perfection, are threatening to pierce through the skin. If it was possible, Cero’s face went redder than Kalymir’s entire body and radiating that same anger as he does but more mellow and dangerous. Despite this, Lucian’s aloofness never wavered, only making the demon’s blood pressure skyrocket to the moon. 

“Choose your next words carefully, pet” The venom is clear as crystal.

“My next words are exactly as I implied, my beloved King. I want to see you glow as the sun when you bear our heir” A rare soft gaze and smile stretch his face. A dragon will not back down without a fight. 

[starsomens]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 9 • 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓵𝓵…

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Warnings: language, reader, inactive situation, reader is drugged at one point, reader is assaulted by getting slapped, mentions of blood, betrayal, (this is like a part 1)

Reference: When I say Noah gears up PLEASE Picture this!

Your head is spinning as he finally come to. Your head was pounding as you could only see the ground. Trying to move your hands you realize that you are bound to where you sat. Trying to move your legs was futile as well as you found yourself strap to chair by rope. Raise your head and try to look around

Didn’t recognize where you were. You couldn’t even see outside from where you were. For all you know, it could be the next morning and you would have no idea.

You turn your head as best as you could to take a good look at your surroundings. There wasn’t anything in the room, except for a dimly lit lightbulb overhead. There were no windows, and it was eerily, quiet, the type of silence to drive someone crazy if they were there long enough. And Alfred…that bastard!

You start to struggle against your streams just a bit trying to see if you can find any kind of wiggle room to get out. You wiggle around the chair, making it lean from side to side. You start going back-and-forth groans, frustration, escape your lips wanting to break free from the ropes. You unfortunately, move a bit too much and causes air to fall over onto its side, causing you to shriek as you slam onto the cold floor

“Fuck….” You say a bit out of breath as you rest your head on the cold floor hating that you were now in a worse situation than it was when you were sitting just open with a heavy scraping along the floor. In steps to armed in masked men while another man walks in. He wore a black suit. With a scar going down his face from the left corner of his eyebrow down to the right corner of his lip.

“Looks like you’re finally awake,” a gruff and deep voice comes from the character in front of you. This must’ve been easy. You remember him vividly from the picture Noah has showed you. “ Listen whenever these things involve ladies such as yourself I hate to see things and messy, so let’s make this nice and simple huh?” he said coming over and picking up the chair off of the floor sitting back up right

"I need you to leave Sebastian, go back to your little family and forget all this bullshit, got it?" Sebastian?

"leave...Noah?"

"Ah, you got it, smart girl," he gives you the fakest smile possible. "you didn't actually think of staying with him did you?" he chuckled

"Well....I wasn't exactly planning on leaving either," you answer

"Right now you take way more than you can chew, my advice, back up, step down, find some kid who's willing to kiss your feet. This matter isn't up to you," he says lighting a cigar and taking a long puff, the smoke surrounding his head

"See I either need him unattached or married to Denise, you on the other hand, are dragging him down,"

"Denise?" You ask with a smirk

"Yea...Denise, something funny?" he asks stepping closer to you

"Oh it's nothing....just last time I checked Noah couldn't stand her," something in you wanted him to know exactly who you were and where Noah stood with you. "and if anyone was on heir knees for me...it was Noah, wanting ME to come home.."

Lucian glared at you through his nose as his jaw clenches

"So, why don't you try and stick your bratty daughter with some other other poor-" a sharp pain comes across your face, his large hand leaving your right cheek stinging. You were sure that was going to bruise. He says nothing as he sneers at you and walks away, he stands in the door way and says

"you're lucky I need you alive....maybe he can convince you otherwise," another figure comes into frame as Lucien shoves him into the room. The heavy door shuts and you find yourself with a familiar face

"....Mathew?...."

(Noah)

"Get all the dogs out and tracking, I need a scan of every dock we have-and where the fuck is Nick?!"

Noah was on a rampage. He was at his office pressuring his workers to find you faster, any clues, any signs, ANYTHING. He had gotten no sleep while he drove around the city to find you. Now back in his office having his men try and track you down.

You were gone, with no phone, and nothing left behind. Luckily Koda had gotten some DNA in his mouth and Nick was currently processing it. However, it's been about 5 hours now and Noah wanted answers 3 hours ago. But Nick had to get any kind of DNA possible that was in the mouth of a dog for some time. He was determined to find who took you and personally deal with them.

"Keep your pants on I'm here," he said handing him the file "You're not going to like the results" Noah raises his brow as he opens the file, his eyes going wife

"WHAT?! That piece of shit!" Alfred of all people, the one he assigned to you, to drive, "FUCK!.....how's Vilma doing?" he asked running his hand over his face. While looking around the mansion he had found Vilma tied and sedated in her room. Probably just an hour before everything happened

"Vilma is recovering, she can't recall anything past the time you left. The cameras were cut, security was tapped into and told to leave post, everything was thought through," Nick tells him everything he needs to know "But I don't think it was all Alred..."

"who would you-" "Sir," someone interupts Noah

"Not no-,"

"But sir it's Lucien..." he stops talking and turns to his man, taking the phone he puts it to his ear and walks out into the hallway to speak with him

"Lucien,"

"Noah my, how are ya'?" he asked knowing damn well what the answer was

"Shit, Y/N is missing, fucking Alfred took her," he stresses "Listen, did you need something? I'm a little busy right now..."

"Oh don't worry you can call off the little treasure hunt, I've got all your answers,"

"Call of the- what the hell are you......Lucien...what the fuck do you mean you have my answers?"

"Don't worry she's safe, no wounds, no broken bones no split lip, but she has a mouth on her, don't know how you put up with hat shit,"

"...." Noah was silent. He either mouthed off and something happened to you, or he shut up and thought of his next move

"Look you want this girl back right? Or for the most part alive and free right?" he took a pause knowing Noah would just listen to him "leave the broad, get Denise, and it's over"

"This is still about Denise?-"

"Damn right it is, point is I need YOU to stay in fucking line. Marry her, take your place and forget this ever happened...got it?"

"I'm coming for Y/N." was all Noah said

"What? Listen you fucking-hello? Hello?!"

he hung up, drops the phone on the desk and leans into Nicks ear and says

"Get everyone in the garage, we're heading to Lucien,"

"Lucien!? But Noah-" the door closes to the room before Nick could stop him. As Noah walks down the hall he could feel was...numbness, he felt a hole in his chest...but he felt that hole being filled by something. Something vengeful and violent. He was getting you back and he was taking down ANYONE who stood in his way. He goes into his private closet and readies himself (see linked image at top). Signature ski mask, his gun, ammo, gloves, some smoke bombs and some sedatives. Looking himself over in the mirror to make sure he didn't forget anything, he sees a small picture of you in the frame. It was a candid picture that was taken on the day you had gone shopping. You were relaxed and at ease, and even had a soft smile. That was the first day Noah looked at you and thought of you as his....his wife, his girl....his.

A knock comes to the door

“Come in,” Noah says as he’s checking his gun for ammo. As he looks a PCs jolly and her. The tall, long haired man was also armed and ready to go at a word.

“Just say the word we’re good to go…”

“Good, I hope they all know we’re not leaving until we bring her back alive”

“Oh we are well aware of that one….Noah,” jolly rests his hand on Noah’s shoulder “we’re getting her back…knowing you, you’ll kill Lucian yourself if it means getting her back”

“…..” Noah didn’t know what to say. There were many times he would go to Jolly looking for someone to trust in someone to give him advice.

“I know you love her…” that statement made no turn around

“But-“

“Oh come on noah,” he chuckles “I see the way you look at her, and when was the last time you bought that many flowers for a single girl? Let alone someone you were in a relationship with,”

Oh cracked a smile “you got me there…”

It was true you were the first girl he had ever been that way with. Even in relationships or affairs he show little to no emotion or interest. You however, had gotten this man onto his knees, bought flowers that cost him thousands, he would kiss your feet if you asked him to. You were his wife....you were his girl....

"get the trucks fueled up, we're leaving in 5."

(Y/N)

"Mathew....what the fuck...."

"...." he was quiet as he looked at you and then down to his feet

"Mathew fucking answer me why are you here!? Get me lose!"

"I...I can't....Lucien he-"

"Oh whatever he's your boss and? I'm your sister-"

"Y/N..." he rubbed at his eyes as he started swaying in his spot

"No, don't shut me up! Why the fuck are you here?"

"Because I asked him to!" he revealed, it couldn't have been what you were thinking right?

"Asked him....to what?...."

"To fucking bring you here what else? Like did you actually think it would work between you guys?"

"Oh please you don't even-"

"This man kills people with his bare fucking hands, he's slept and ditched women left and right! You didn't even want this so why are you fighting this so hard?" He barks, he couldn't grasp why this was so important to you, "Just sign the papers, I'll take you home and none of this happened....that's final."

"So what you take dad's place and suddenly your on a power drive?" you roll your eyes

"Remember when I had gone to visit you? How you asked if I was doing okay?," that was the day after you had slept with Noah "I was going to tell you how I found a way to bring you home, where you wanted to be," he said as he paced in the small space "Do you know how much money, the shit I had to do, the blood I lost so I could bring you out of your misery?! Just so you can go and fuck him?!"

"You don't get to dictate my life!" you snap back "What if I don't want to go back? What if I want to stay? What if shit changed?!" Mathew had a puzzled look on his face and suddenly his face comes to a realization

"...you like him...don't you?" it was quiet, you could hear the buzz of the naked bulb in the room

"....." you blink at him

"In fact you fucking love him don't you?" he gives a breathy scoff "All of this shit for nothing.....and you love him-"

"I don't!"

"Don't give me that bullshit! You fucking slept with him, and went back after you came home!,"

...What if he was right? What if...you did love him...and wanted to be with him

"Mathew....please, you need to understand....I-I..."

"You don't have to explain," he turns his back to you and starts leaving

"Mathew! Wait Ple-" he shut the door cutting you off, you could only slouch over yourself as you felt tears well up in your eyes. You cry in your pitiful state. You were always so close with your brother and now this?? You were kidnapped, tied up, betrayed and now alone in this stupid fucking cell.....all you could really do was cry....and Noah....did you.....

As you sat there thinking about what Mathew had said you couldn't help but think back to all this time you had been together. All those nights together, dinners, shopping, morning hours wrapped in his arms, soft kisses int he shower. Those nights he would come home with blood on his hands, and those same hands would hold and caress you like the most fragile thing in the world....and you missed it. You missed his scent, his smile, his big figure shielding you....you missed Noah

Mathew POV:

I couldn’t believe it. My own sister, fell in love with a bastard like Noah….Do all this for her just so she can say she doesn't want to...

I knock on Lucian's door and wait for his guards to open up for me. The dark double doors open with a moan as I see him sitting at his desk, cigar between his lips, and a glass of some expensive brand of whiskey. He seemed almost staged, like the mafia bosses you see in movies. I stop a few feet from his desk

"She won't do it..."

"Make her. I don't got time to fuck around, kid." he said grabbing a wad of cash with his big hands hand , his finger flicking through the bills

"I can't! She won't budge, look we can just call this off and he goes back and-oof!" one of his guards comes and gets a hit in my stomach with his knee. The hit knocking the air out of my lungs, knocking me on to my knees

"I invested too much of my time into your bullshit! You're gonna fucking make her or I will," as I stare at the ground in front of me, his shiny shoes stopping in front of me "either Denise is in the picture and that bitch is out, or I'll make sure you both disappear off the face of this city......got it?"

I mumbled something under my breath, knowing I'd say it to his face but I wasn't trying to get killed on the spot

"Fuck you say to me ya lil pussy?" he voice was low but threatening, I could feel his hand in my hair as he pulls on it to make me look up at him "You wanna say that shit again?!"

My chest rises and falls as i stare him in the eye "Fuck. You." he pushes me back on to the floor and let's go of my hair

"mm aight..aight..." he said slightly slurred, he paced in front of my as he rubbed his chin thinking to himself "everyone out, gotta teach 'em myself. kid aint never learn his place,"

the muffled sound of feet on the carpet fades out as the door closed and I'm left alone with Lucien.

"You know why I got red carpets in here...don't you?" he asked opening one of the drawers on his desk, setting something heavy down on the wood furniture "it's so I'm not reminded of the useless scumbag blood left on my floor,"

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

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[acourtofinkandpapyrus]

A Flower With Petals of Flame: Part one (Eris x reader Rhys's sister)

Warnings: Injuries and murder and mentions of trauma

I'm so excited this one won the vote! So as Y/n returns to the world of the living, she has to decide whether to save the male who caused her, and her mother's murders, or save him.

Part two

Tag list: open

I screamed as I fell to the ground, my head fuzzy and my stomach churning.

What had happened?  I had been walking along, trying to form a plan for…

I take a deep breath, the crisp air and smell of roses pushing into my nostrils.  I look at the small grass clearing that makes me tense, memories of terror flitting through my head.

This was the Spring court.  Somehow- somehow I was back among the living.  Landing right back where my and my mother’s lives had been taken from us.

“Please!  Please spare my darling girl!” My mother cries as she’s shoved to the ground, the little lords or spring preparing their weapons, the high lord of spring holding a giant ax as he watches.

I look to Tamlin with tears in my eyes, pleading with him, “Tam, please.  Please don’t let them hurt us.”

He looks away, ashamed.

It wasn’t him who was about to lose his life though.

I snap back into reality, hearing voices in the distance.  My first instinct is to climb into a tree, wait for them to pass.

But I can hear the angry tones, and I force myself to be silent as I slip through the trees to see where the commotion is coming from.

“Look at this, the High Lord of Spring, on his knees before us.”  A cruel male voice said, and I peeked through the foliage to see Tamlin on his knees before a bunch of men, snarling with an arrow in his leg and shoulder.

They looked as if they were laced with faebane.

I wasn’t breathing.  He was kneeling there, just as my mother and I had before him and his family.

I could just leave him there, to his fate.  Let him die the way he had let us die.

But… my feet wouldn’t move.

I had only just been brought back to life, and I was already about to get myself killed again.

The only thing was that I wasn’t the same weak girl who had died here before.

I searched about, quickly finding a large, heavy rock.

And threw it right at the leader of the group, striking him right in the temple.

“Leave him alone.”  I said, lowering my voice in an attempt to hide my identity.  I could have used my magic, but that would have been even more telling than my voice.

The males unsheathed their sword, looking for where my voice had come from, and Tamlin stilled.

Please, please don’t recognise me.

“Show yourself you wretch!”  The male whom I had hit with the rock snarled, spinning around.

I shifted so I was better hidden.  I had no weapons, and against three males who each had at least two weapons…

I should have come up with a better plan.

“How about you show your face you coward!”  He continued to shout, but I just smiled as I saw the red haired male who appeared behind him.

Watching as Lucian killed the leader, Tamlin throwing off the two males that were holding him down, I couldn’t help but notice how much they had changed, how different they were then I had seen them last.  Lucian had a metal eye now, his face holding more trauma than it had when I knew him.

Tamlin… Even as he killed the last of the males, looked tired and broken.  He looked as if he was already half dead.

I watch as they look at the dead males, with coats of bone white, the color of Hybren.

But the king of Hybren is dead.

So who were they following?

I hold my breath, all thoughts on pause as Lucian eyes land on my hiding spot, his metal eye whirring.

Mother above, could he see me?

“Would you like to come join us, or were you planning to wait until we were distracted?”  Lucian asked, the words cautious and sharp.

I tense up as Tamlin looks my way too.

I bit my lip, I could run away, and I could surely outrun Tamlin.

But maybe not Lucian.

Taking a calming breath, I step out into the small clearing, were both males stood there, shock keeping them both silent.

“Hi?”

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

Regis' reaction to learning that he has a sister young enough to pass for his own daughter was definitely Something. Nobody expected him to know that many curse-words, that's for sure.

Regis stared at the tiny slip of a girl sitting across from him. All bony wrists and elbows and knees, wild hair and large eyes that stared back at him with a distrustful glint that made Regis's heart squeeze in anger and pity.

They sat in a pub, at a table tucked as far out of the way as possible, but still they could not escape the curious glances of the Galahkari in the room. Regis dearly wished they could do this in a more private seeting, but his sister had clearly not been getting enough to eat. The man sitting beside her, staring at him like he was about to murder him if he made one wrong move, also did not help.

Despite the ambient noises of the pub, the silence had settled heavy and uncomfortable between them.

His sister clutched at a steaming bowl of some kind of thick stew, waiting for it to cool a bit after the first bite had burned her tongue.

"Now," the man said, deep voice cutting though the air like a claimore. Still, Regis could not look away from his sister. "What do you Lucians want with the girl?"

The man had a thick accent, much like everybody on the islands who spoke Lucian, though he was more understandable than most others.

"And who is asking that?" Clarus demanded, matching the man's agressive tone of voice.

"Kapil, Head of Clan Ostium. I ask again: What do you want with one of our children, a Clanless one at that?"

Regis tore his eyes away to look at the man. "I am looking for a missing relative, my Lord," he said with a polite tilt of his head.

A disgusted snort was his answer. "Cut that shit out. There are no lords here. Why would someone like you look for a relative here of all places?"

He did not want to do this, but Regis knew he wouldn't get anywhere otherwise. At least someone was looking out for his sister, even if only to protect her from suspicious strangers. Never in his life had Regis been treated like a suspicious stranger. So he reached into his coat pocket, slowly under the sharp eyes of the adult Galahkar in front of him, and pulled out a folded paper. It was a copy of his sister's birth certificate, stamped and notarized.

Kapil snatched up the paper as soon as it touched the table between them and opened it. Few moments later the man paled at a rapid pace.

Beside him, the small girl took a bit from her stew with an audible slurp.