#lucian: prompts

[veilxstars]

Prompt One:

In his nightmare, Lucian found himself back in the cramped room where his little brother Javier lay in bed, pale and fragile, his small body barely a whisper beneath the tangled blankets. The room was filled with a dim, sickly light, the air thick with the scent of medicine and stale air, punctuated by the faint rustle of his father’s heavy coat and his mother’s hushed, soothing whispers.

His parents stood beside Javier, faces lined with exhaustion and hope, promising him yet again that they would keep fighting—together they would make him well, they swore, voices breaking with the weight of belief. "We'll do anything we can, Javi," his mother said, her fingers trembling as she smoothed his hair. "You'll get better; we won’t stop until you do."

But Lucian saw Javier's expression, caught the faint quiver of his lips, the exhaustion that hung on him like a shadow. He saw his small hand, barely able to lift itself from the bed, reaching out, and all he wanted was to hold it, to wrap himself around him, to take away his suffering.

Yet his feet would not move. He could only watch, heart breaking as his parents’ voices filled the room with promises he knew they couldn't keep. The darkness outside the small window deepened, creeping into the corners of the room, seeping toward Javier's bedside, hungry and patient.

Desperation flared within him, a frantic urge to save him, to take away his pain, even if it meant abandoning his own strength. But his hands were empty. When he finally managed to take a step forward, reaching toward him, Javier’s face turned toward him, his eyes dark and weary, filled with an understanding far beyond his years.

“Lucian…” he whispered, the words too soft, fading into the shadows as his form grew weaker, slipping from his grasp. He stretched out his hand, desperate to close the distance, but Javier was slipping away, swallowed by the encroaching dark, as though even the memory of him were fading. His parents continued to murmur their promises, as if nothing had changed, as if he hadn’t already begun slipping through their fingers.

His heart ached with the emptiness of the words, the broken promises that lay heavy in the air as the dream unraveled around him, leaving him trapped, helpless as he reached for a little boy who was already too far gone.

With a gasp, Lucian jolted awake, heart racing, his hands gripping the bedsheets as if to anchor himself back in reality. The shadows in his room seemed to recede reluctantly, leaving only the lingering sense that something had followed him back from that dreadful dream, waiting patiently in the dim corners of his room. He had sold his soul, hadn't he?

The devil was coming for his due.

Prompt 2:

Lucian walked briskly down the sidewalk of Cardinal Hill, his thoughts swirling like the autumn leaves skittering across the pavement. The air had taken on an electric charge, a tension building that felt almost tangible, as though the world itself were holding its breath. He had been mulling over a new magic trick, something elaborate he hoped would bring a bit of joy to the children in town, when the wind began to shift—suddenly fierce and unrelenting.

The sky darkened, casting ominous shadows across the street, and the trees bent low, their branches swaying violently. As the gusts intensified, they carried with them whispers—murmurs of regret that intertwined with the howling wind, each one striking deep within his heart.

What if this was the time he would have been cured?

His pace faltered as guilt clawed at him, the voices swirling around him like a storm of doubt.

What if you killed him?

The thought landed like a stone in his chest. He shook his head, desperately trying to banish the dark musings. It was too much. Memories of his last moments with Javier flooded his mind—the way he had smiled through the pain, how he had promised him they would find a way together. He had promised.

The wind howled louder, as if mocking his internal turmoil. What if he is in heaven and he hates you? The question echoed, a specter that loomed larger than any illusion he could ever create on stage. Lucian gritted his teeth, his heart racing as tears threatened to spill.

“Stop it,” he murmured, forcing his feet to move forward. But the whispers only grew louder, relentless in their assault. He could almost see Javier’s frail figure in his mind, the way he had looked at him with trust, with love. The weight of his choice hung heavily on him, suffocating and insistent, leaving him breathless.

He stumbled to a halt in front of Mabbitt’s Magician Supply Store, his sanctuary, but even the familiar sight of the shop couldn’t chase away the shadows that clung to him. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, steadying himself against the relentless gusts that sought to tear him apart.

“Javier,” he whispered, his voice nearly lost in the wind. “I’m sorry. I wish I could have done more. I wish I could have saved you.” With each word, the tempest around him seemed to still momentarily, the whispers fading into a heavy silence, as though the world were listening.

Then, as the wind howled again, he began to speak a prayer in the old tongue known only to the Castillos—a language crafted to protect themselves as they traveled the country, words flowing from his lips like a balm against the raging storm.

“Ti síella, síon seyte, ávra séin yuven. Dureyka, llétiya, aivran’te.”

In that moment, he poured all his love, all his guilt, and all his hope into the prayer, the air around him shimmering faintly as the ancient words filled the space. He prayed for forgiveness, for peace, and for the strength to carry on in his memory, the wind finally subsiding into a gentle breeze, leaving him surrounded by a tranquil hush. Lucian stood there, heart still pounding, but resolute, feeling the weight of Javier’s presence as if he were beside him, offering comfort in the depths of his grief.

[ithinkyouhealedmyheart]

30 Days of November

taglist: @myloveforhergoeson @partiallypearl

7. Mysterious

As Halloween wound down, Kendall couldn't shake the weird feeling that had built up in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't tell if it was dread or getting sick, but he was groggy, and his mind was hazy.

Kendall Donald Knight refuses to believe in tarot cards. He couldn't understand why Ronnie liked them. He wasn't going to protest and whine as she dragged him over to the apartment of her newest friend. Lucian was a novelist who specialized in horror novels, or he was an up-and-coming novelist. A decal with the moon's phases was stuck to the front of the white door. He lived on the sixth floor. He was uncomfortable, but for some reason, he felt awkward. It wasn't that he didn't want Ronnie to hang out with other guys because it would be stupid of him to think that way when his friends hang out with her.

A boy with purple hair opened the door. He wore a red and black striped sweater that made Kendall think of Freddy Krueger. An earthy scent wafted from his apartment, and over his shoulder, the blonde swore he saw smoke. Lucian's eyes were wide like a doe's, and his face lit up when he saw them. He ushered the couple inside, and a kettle on the stove whistled.

"Tea?" Lucian asked as he shut the stove off and grabbed a mug from the cupboard overhead.

"Oh- " Ronnie's eyes lit up. "What kinds do you have?"

Kendall's eyes were drawn to the small, circular table in the middle of the living room. A purple tablecloth patterned with something mystical in gold thread was thrown over it. Atop the surface sat a box and a set of China cups. By the open window, he noticed a burning stick of incense. He wondered how Bitters let him do that. He knew almost immediately that the songwriter brought him for a tarot reading, but he wasn't irked by it for some reason.

"Alright," Lucian pulled out one of the chairs. "What are you looking for? What kind of reading are we doing?"

Kendall looked at Ronnie with suspicion. She tapped her feet gently on the carpeted floor, fidgeting with the drawstrings of her yellow sweatshirt. She knit her brows together in confusion.

"Okay, then..." Lucian opened the box on the table. The steam from the cops of tea billowed and mixed with the incense smoke in the room. Kendall could smell a hint of lavender. "I can just pull the cards and see what I see."

He did an overhand shuffle, and out came five cards: Three of Cups reversed: The Hermit, The Magician, The World, and Two of Cups. Kendall quirked a brow. He didn't understand what it meant, but Ronnie leaned forward.

"Huh." Lucian stared at the cards curiously and tapped his finger against the table. "This is... weird."

"Weird? Weird how? What do you mean?" Kendall's anxiety spiked.

"For starters," Lucian pointed to The Magician card. "Trust yourself, trust your feelings. You know what's best for yourself. In this situation..." He glanced between Ronnie and Kendall. "I'd say listen to how you feel. It's almost always right."

"Then we have The Hermit." Lucian pointed to the card. It depicted a man in a black robe holding a lantern. "Give it time; don't force anything to happen."

"Okay... So, this is proving that it's nonsense." Kendall leaned back with a smug look on his face.

"Kendall!" Ronnie smacked his arm.

"Then we have Three of Cups reversed. There could be something causing a rift between you and someone you love, which segways into Two of Cups, expressing... how much you care about each other." Lucian smiled awkwardly.

"How much do we care about each other?" Kendall scoffed. His posture shifted, and he leaned forward.

"You say that as if we're not friends." Ronnie rolled her eyes.

Lucian leaned back and looked between the cards at Kendall and Ronnie. Suddenly, the pieces were placed in his head, and a metaphorical light bulb went off. He gasped and snapped his fingers.

"You two like each other!"

[reindash--yuri]

2023 STAMPYTOBER

October is quickly approaching, which means October Prompt Lists are popping up.

~

You don't have to only draw the prompts, you can also write / create playlists / animate / create web weaves / etc for this!

~

SLW Pre-Modern -> Stampy's Lovely World Episodes before Veeva showed up. Only Old Helpers are present. Episode 1 through Episode 343.

SLW Modern -> Stampy's Lovely World Episodes after Veeva showed up and before the Current Helpers completely took over. A mix of Old Helpers and Current Helpers are present. Episode 344 through Episode 399.

SLW Post-Modern -> Stampy's Lovely World Episodes after the Current Helpers completely took over. Only Current Helpers are present. Episode 400 to the Present Day.

~

Tag: #2023 Stampytober

If you create anything for this, then feel free to tag me but you don't have to, of course.

[writermich18]

FFXV Writing Prompt

Everything was going fine during the Festival. And then, out of nowhere, in front of many cameras, before millions of people's eyes, Prince Regis Lucis Caelum collapses. He is rushed to the hospital, but his heart stops 3 times before they save him. It gets revealed not only was their Prince struck by a bullet but poisoned as well. It is not King Mors's wrath or Prince Regis's Retinue's wrath that Nieflhiem faced off against after this attack, but the people of Lucis. They rise up in fury and anguish, the attack against their kind, sweet, accepting prince the final straw on the camel's back, and they absolutely decimate Nieflhiem.

The people of Lucis may not like King Mors, but they absolutely love their prince, their Regis. (Years later, when he sits the throne, they are just as protective as they had been during that festival.)

[gcngar]

tags. °｡˚⁺ | ❝ ❞

[blccmngs]

big spoon (parrish and lucian duh, i need to see parrish being the big spoon ;_; )

( big spoon ) both muses are cuddling and the receiver ends up being the big spoon

While he would not openly admit it, Parrish had been looking forward to the weekend for the majority of his workweek. He had taken on more shifts than usual. Being one of the younger employees and one of the only ones out of school meant that he was one of the few sought out when a coworker wanted someone to cover their shift. But, hey, it meant more spending money for him. It was fine.

He was exhausted, of course. And he knew that, after he had settled in, he would not be moving from his couch for a solid thirty hours.

It took all of fifteen minutes for Lucian to arrive once he had finally gotten home. The greeting was much more domestic than either of them would probably admit to. A soft kiss and some lingering touches before Parrish had pulled away to go change into comfy clothes. There was a high chance that Lucian would be stripping him out of them soon, sure, but he had been itching to get out of his work uniform since his shift ended. And by the time that he had wandered back to the living room where he had left the other? He had no problem with physically climbing over where Lucian had made himself comfortable on the couch, sprawled out like he owned the place, to weasel his way into the barely there space between Lucian and the back of the couch.

If he was wrapping himself around Lucian like a koala? Well. That was his business.

[blccmngs]

One of the downsides of being an adult, Parrish realized once he was living on his own, was that there wasn't anyone to take care of you when you were sick. Some of his friends had visited him occasionally during other instances when he had been sick, sure. But he had mostly suffered through being sick alone — Aided by whatever over the counter meds and fucked up sleep schedule he had developed over that time. At that point, he didn't really expect anyone to come in and try to take care of him. He really didn't think that Lucian would be all that caring. Maybe he would have checked on him and brought him some food. That was as far as Parrish would have that Lucian would go until then. "How is suffering in silence the same as threatening to physically assault me?" The blonde grumbled, almost sounding like he was talking to himself. The haze of whatever he had made it harder to focus on the little pool of warmth that spread through his chest despite his words. The sensation stemming from not only Lucian's worry but the light insistence that Lucian would have wanted to know that he was sick in the first place. At the topic of showering, though, the blonde's eyebrows scrunched together. "I'm going to get gross again anyways-" Which translated to no. No, he had not showered since the worst of it hit. Parrish sighed softly at the touch to his forehead, eyelids drooping as his body relaxed. "Are you just trying to see my hot naked bod?" He breathed out, tone less snarky but clearly teasing.

if he thought he had been confused after the night of the party, once he left this time - he wouldn't have any idea what to think this time, so far past confusion that he couldn't dwell on it. lucian normally wouldn't be able stomach the thought of wasting his time holding someone who would only get him sick. it went against everything in his nature and yet, he couldn't imagine tearing himself away right now. the idea of leaving parrish on his own filled him with a sense of dread that he hadn't felt in years. he knew it wasn't his responsibility and he didn't need to be there. parrish would have been fine on his own - he was a grown man and as much as lucian liked to jab at him, capable. he didn't need lucian to be there - that was why he didn't call him, but lucian needed to b there for him. soft, breathy chuckles falls from his mouth, nose pressing into the back of parrish's head, "yeah - what about it? you threatened your own physical health by not calling me." parrish turns to look at him and lucian has to stop himself from gasping, parrish's bright blue eyes were dulled, but no less beautiful, "toast isn't enough, baby. what about showering?" a hand smooths over his forehead, his touches so gentle that he's not sure who's taken over his body, "let's take a bath, i'll get in with you."

[jonquilyst]

Briar Vinca for @ethicaltreatmentofcowplants' Simply Lilac BC

Contestant

Name: Briar Vinca (Brai-err Veen-kuh) Age Group: YA (about the same age as Lilac) Pronouns: She/Her Orientation: Pansexual Hometown: Henford-On-Bagley Occupation: Florist Skills: Gardening and basic cooking Traits: Lazy, Green Fiend, Vegetarian Aspiration: Eco Innovator Life State: Human Likes: Gardening, Spirited Sims, Small Talk, Blue, Green, Pink, Nature Enthusiasts, Singing, Affection, Deep Thoughts, Discussing Hobbies, Discussing Interests, Family-Motivated Sims, Homebody Sims, Singer-Songwriter Music, Cottagecore Music, Romance Music, Pop Music Dislikes: Fitness, Potty Humor, Deception, Arguments, Gossip, Argumentative Sims, Emotional Decision-Makers, METAL MUSIC, Electronica Music, DJ Booth Music, Alternative Music Gifts: A finished cross-stitch piece (1), A painting (2), any flower (3) Misc: A nerd about flowers. She is very knowledgable in flowering plant biology

In Depth: Briar is an environment-conscious florist who was born, raised, and still a current resident of Henford-on-Bagley. She was adopted by a pair of mothers, Estelle Vinca and Madelynn Goth (yes, a descendant of the Goth family). She has an older brother named Oakley, who is a science baby born from Estelle and Madelynn's genetics. He is now a professional mixologist and a seasoned bowler living in Chestnust Ridge, but he and Briar grew up together in the most rural part of Henford-on-Bagley: The Bramblewood. Their mothers ran a farm there (both with crops and livestock) and it was this farm that Briar grew to love gardening and plants. She's not as good as Estelle (who upkept the garden), but she's learning the ropes! Briar is now living in Finchwick, but she's still very much a country girl and loves her life in Henford-on-Bagley. Briar cares a lot about climate change and wants to help save the environment. She makes sure she's wearing ethically-made clothing and one of the reasons why she's living in Finchwick is to be walking-distance from the stores, no car needed! She's also vegetarian by choice because she grew up surrounded by animals and doesn't like the thought of eating meat (though she is ok with consuming things like eggs and dairy as long as they were ethically produced). Briar wants to take her shot at the BC because she thinks she and Lilac have a lot in common, and also because she grew up simple-living her entire life because of her remote upbringing. Therefore she doesn't think the simple-living will be much of a challenge for her

Other: She's my Gen 7 spare of my Vinca legacy and is the niece of Lucian!

Watcher

Are you comfortable with your pixel person:

Flirting with other contestants? (The bachelorette will have the ‘player’ trait cheated and her boundaries set to no jealousy, so it will not impact your sim’s relationship with her.) [Yes]

WooHooing other contestants? [Yes]

Flirting with/and or woohooing NPCs?  [Yes]

Flirting with the host?  [Yes]

Changes to traits via gameplay prompts? (ie. Evil to Good, depending on what your Sim does, or adding traits)  [Yes]

(Humans Only) Becoming an occult?  [No, I'd like her to remain human please ^^]

(Werewolves Only) The Fated Mate mechanic? (If a werewolf ends up winning the challenge, I will cheat out that sentiment)  [N/A]

[bangpop91]

The New Kitten

It's day 7 of @bucktommypositivityweek round 2.

Today's prompt: Predictions for the future

Salem takes protecting the new kitten very seriously. Or Buck and Tommy are new parents and this is how Salem feels about it.

Salem is sitting on his perch in the bedroom looking into the small basket holding the naked kitten who is currently fast asleep. He'd heard his people talking about the new baby coming and as a rule he does not like children. Jee and Mara being the exceptions. But they are sweet girls who give him lots of pets and treats and are always very gentle. 

And while he has made friends with Felix, the dog is large and hyperactive, and someone has to make sure the big, slobbering imbecile doesn't trample the new kitten with his massive paws. Salem doesn't care that Felix had been calm or gentle a few days before when Tommy held the kitten they call Luc in his arms introducing the pair. He knows his people would protect Luc as best they could, but they are obviously very tired from the new kitten so it falls to Salem to protect Luc.

Not that Tommy and Evan necessarily agree since they keep removing him from Luc's basket when he tries curling up with the big, hairless kitten, telling Salem that the basket isn't for him. Which is incredibly impudent if they had bothered to ask him, which they didn't. But Evan had built him another perch that would allow him to keep an eye on Luc in his basket, so Evan must understand that Salem is just protecting their new family member.

Luc starts fussing in his basket, Salem wants to jump in there and sooth the poor hairless kitten, but his humans have made it clear he's not allowed in Luc’s basket. So instead he leaps from his perch landing next to Evan's head who is starting to shift into being awake. Not fast enough for Salem's liking though, so he licks into the humans ear making him jump to and glare at him.

“What the hell Salem? What's with the wet willie?” Salem glared at him, but now that the human was awake he heard the kitten fussing. “Oh, Luc needs me huh.” Evan ran a hand over Salem's fur affectionately as he stood up to grab the kitten from it's basket. “Good boy, Salem.” 

“Evan?” His favorite human grunted from the other side of the bed sitting up looking like he was in desperate need of grooming. 

“Luc, needs a bottle and a fresh diaper.” Salem made sure to keep a very close eye on things as Evan transferred the kitten into Tommy’s arms. “I'll be right back if you want to take care of that diaper.” He plopped his butt down in front of Tommy and Luc to supervise the diaper change, butting his head against Luc's and purring loudly when he started crying.

“I know, Lucian, you're cold. I'm sorry Papa will go quick.” Salem glared at his favorite human. “Oh don't give me that look. I've gotten much better at changing diapers.” He had, but Evan is still faster at it. Evan appeared plopping down on the bed next to Tommy swirling a bottle of milk as Tommy finished tucking Luc into his pajamas and funny bag. 

It looked like the new parents had everything under control as Evan took back Luc. Which means Salem has earned a zoomies break. Someone had to check the perimeter after all.

Tagging @sunnywithachanceofbi for the Salem content and @cannibalhellhound because you love animal stories. Bellow the cut are the inspiration pictures for Salem and Felix(who is a Dalmation/Newfoundland mix)

[veilxstars]

PROMPT 03: 11/06/1990 - Lucian’s hands shook as he held the newspaper, eyes fixed on the portrait of Avalon Rivers, Cardinal Hill’s late matriarch. Her face seemed softer in grayscale, a pale ghost of the young woman whose presence had once filled the town with warmth and strength. Now, she was just a memory pressed between pages. The obituary headline was solemn and respectful, yet a deep chill ran through Lucian as he read it. Something about the tone of this edition of The Cardinal Chronicle felt unusually eerie, as if a cloud had settled over the town, thicker and darker than the autumn fog.

But then his gaze stopped on something else—a jarring image out of place on the otherwise dignified page. Beneath the folds of his fingers, the paper had changed, warped; the headline had shifted, twisting into words that weren't really. His own face stared back at him, yet it was distorted beyond recognition. His eyes, normally bright and kind, now looked sunken and shadowed, and his mouth stretched into a grotesque frown, as if mocking him. Above the warped portrait, scrawled in dark, violent ink, the headline screamed:

“We know what you’re hiding.”

Lucian froze, heart hammering as the words pulsed on the page. Each letter felt like a deliberate stab, an accusation sharp enough to slice through his carefully guarded walls. His throat went dry, his mouth suddenly tasting of iron, and he could hear the faintest echo of his little brother’s laughter—the laughter he had longed to hear again - the laughter he tried to protect.

As he blinked, the image twisted again, shifting back to Avalon’s face, the grotesque figure of himself vanishing as if it had never been there at all. His hands were clammy, clutching the newspaper tighter as he tried to reconcile what he’d seen. Surely, it had been his imagination—a trick of the mind. But the paranoia creeping up his spine didn’t fade. His gaze darted around his quiet shop, taking in the rows of wands and trick decks, the stacks of illusion manuals and worn spell books that lined his shelves, each one now standing as silent judgment to his crime.

Because there was something to hide. Something so buried within him that most days he could pretend it didn’t exist. But this silent accusation—the words felt personal...

For years he’d struggled, tormented by the memory of Javier’s final days—the pale, fragile form of his brother slipping further away despite every spell, every treatment, every ounce of love poured into those fleeting moments. Lucian had done all he could. His fingers had traced Javier’s brow, whispering a spell with trembling lips, asking the universe for mercy—for his brother’s pain to cease, even if it cost him everything he had left.

And it had. He’d felt the energy drain from his body, leaving a hollow ache where once there had been light. Javier had gone quietly, the faintest smile on his lips as he drifted into a sleep that would carry him far beyond Lucian’s reach.

As Lucian forced himself to breathe, to remind himself of the present, he glanced down at the paper again. No distorted images stared back this time. Just the calm, unchanging visage of Avalon Rivers, yet the warning lingered, echoing in his mind: “We know what you’re hiding.”

He knew the Chronicle couldn’t truly know; no one could. He’d kept this secret locked away, buried beneath years of charm and smiles, hidden in the practiced ease of card tricks and sleight of hand, but something about today felt different.

The usual comfort of the shop felt strange now, almost foreign, as he cast a wary glance around the dim aisles. The rows of magic kits and gleaming, polished mirrors appeared duller, as if they’d lost their luster in the shadows that now clung to every corner. The quaint familiarity of the shop—usually his sanctuary—felt like a cage, as though the walls themselves could see into the truth he’d buried.

He placed the newspaper down, hands unsteady, his eyes struggling to focus. The whispers of memory and the echoes of Javier’s laughter clung to him, haunting and hollow. Lucian felt that ache in his chest again, the ever-present shadow of guilt and love entwined, reminding him of the promises he’d made to a little boy he could never forget. As the day wore on, a heavy dread settled over him, gnawing at his every thought, a persistent, quiet voice that murmured in the back of his mind:

Someone knew too much.

[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.

[savage-rhi]

Oh boy-

I saw the most recent writing prompts and got SO excited. I had a really hard time picking. There were SO many good ones

But we need Ardyn with the protective writing prompt:

"Whether you like it or not, You're safest with me"

@sillylittlevulpine Thanks for being patient with me hon. I hope you like this, I haven't written for Ardyn in a while and I feel rusty AF. Hope it's okay!

Y/N was no diplomat.

They were a mere common citizen, fed up with the Lucian crown not doing enough to keep the people safe while many starved and were displaced by the war. They themself were on the brink, having lost everything they held dear in the recent skirmish between the kingdom and empire.

It was why they were smuggled amongst provisions on an Imperial air ship, a last ditch effort to try and make a difference on their own terms.

Y/N knew that the moment they set foot in the lands of Niflheim, there were a thousand ways they could die—a thousand tortures that could befall them. Yet the consequences were outweighed by the hope that somehow, out of the mouth of someone lesser, their words might bring an end to the calamities in Lucis, even if it meant bartering with the enemy. However pure their intentions, there were many things Y/N neglected to consider.

They didn't consider being found so soon on board, immediately being treated with contempt.

They didn't consider the welcoming of fists and weapons at their throat, being blamed for crimes they had never heard of—all because of where they had come from.

They didn't consider being paraded around in public, a spectacle to behold as the soldiers escorted them to the Imperial Palace.

They didn't consider the consequences of being brought to the feet of Emperor Aldercapt himself, who was more than willing to dispatch justice in the form of a grandiose beheading in front of his hundreds of guests amidst an Imperial Ceremony. He proclaimed the sudden intrusion as a sign of the Gods' favor, a sacrificial gift on the eve of Niflheim's name day, three days removed from the anniversary of Solheim's ancient calamity.

Out of all these terrifying events that unfolded so quickly, Y/N never considered that the Chancellor himself would step in to call off the execution.

Nor did they anticipate sitting in the man's very chambers at this moment.

It had been several hours since then, and Y/N's heart pounded heavily in their chest remembering what transpired. How Chancellor Izunia managed to undermine Aldercapt's authority and Niflheim's very traditions, but still kept the peace by appealing to logic, reason, and exploiting hundreds of years of superstition in the same breath.

"It's reasonable to assume a token of good faith by the esteemed six who watch over our endeavors. Yet I beseech the council and the Emperor to remember there is always a price to pay from accepting a boon from gods. Unwrapping such a precious gift could very much bring great misfortune to our feet, especially on an eve of celebration and remembrance. I believe on such a rare and auspicious night, that we let the people of the Empire decide our fate. What say you, excellency?"

The crowd erupted with so much enthusiasm, and so much vigor that Aldercapt had no choice but to bend the knee or lest he be cast unfavorably for weeks to come.

Y/N could remember the Emperors ire toward the Chancellor the rest of the evening, but the latter merely smiled and watched as thousands debated before settling on their choice: to let Y/N live, for now.

Y/N knew so little about the Chancellor, but in that short amount of time, understood he was very much a career politician as much as he was a man of the stars, and that made him perhaps more dangerous than anyone Y/N could've been at the mercy of.

Their breath hitched when the doors suddenly opened, and the very man came waltzing in. Y/N noted how his amber eyes seemed to glow under the dimmed light, casting a shiver down their spine.

"Ah, fancy seeing you still awake at this unholy hour!" He faintly smiled; stopping to let out a breath he had been holding.

"Considering the circumstances, how could anyone sleep?" Y/N murmured under their breath, surprised when he chuckled sincerely at their comment

"A fair observation if there ever was one," He remarked amusingly then gestured for Y/N to remain seated at the foot of the bed as soon as he noticed them adjust. "I don't care for curtseys or for you move an inch. It needn't take me long to get comfortable."

Y/N swallowed as the Chancellor walked across the room, watching him pick up a chair from a large desk. For a moment, an intrusive thought of the man throwing the furniture piece at them crossed Y/N's mind, and they were astonished to see the Chancellor gently place the chair in front of them and casually take a seat.

"You caused quite the commotion back there in the grand hall."

His comment took Y/N aback as they blinked; unsure of what to say. It almost sounded like he was complimenting them.

"I think you outperformed me there, Chancellor."

"Please, call me Ardyn."

Y/N made a face. "Ardyn?"

"An unusual name, I know." He grinned. "There's no need for formality in my own dwelling. You can speak freely, more or less."

More or less...Y/N felt a bead of sweat trickle down their head from that remark.

"I wasn't trying to offend or--"

"What do you call yourself?"

"Pardon?"

"What's your name, dear? Last I checked Lucian's could comprehend such a simple question."

And there it is...Y/N could feel the disdain in his words despite his tone being outwardly charming.

"It's Y/N."

"Y/N," Ardyn repeated it a few times to himself, as if allowing his tongue to grow accustomed to a new flavor. "Spare me of sob stories and gruesome detail, but what brings you to Nilfheim and so, so far away from home?"

There was nothing malicious in his words nor the question Ardyn imposed, but Y/N's muscles tensed as if there was nonetheless. It seemed in comparison to his public image—where he liked to draw things out, Ardyn wanted to get to the point. Neither did Y/N want to prolong this any further than necessary. Whatever the Chancellor intended on doing to them, Y/N had no doubts he would carry it out regardless after this conversation. There was nothing to lose or gain.

"I came to the empire for help."

"Help?"

Y/N nodded.

"And why would you do such a thing, in the middle of a war between our two nations no less?"

Ardyn looked so puzzled that it scared Y/N he was irritated. The confusion on his face seemed uncharacteristic of a man of his stature. The thought didn't stop Y/N from raising a brow, just as bewildered as the man himself.

"I thought you didn't want a sob story?"

"Are you being smart with me, dear?"

"No, no!" Y/N protested. "I'm just--!"

The way he suddenly laughed made the air in the room grow thick with tension, and as Y/N made a fist against the sheets of the mattress, Ardyn let out a content sigh and smirked.

"I'm merely speaking in jest." He said in his defense, letting out a faint but dark chortle. "You are right, however, I'd appreciate some context to our precarious situation."

Just get to the point...Y/N repeated to themself over and over, trying to ignore the sinking sensation that grew in their stomach at how he had been toying with them.

"I came here to talk to Imperials who don't want this war as much as I. There's nothing else to say. I'm not a spy, nor defecting my country, nor do I wish to gain anything. I just...want to talk. To get a conversation started, so we can end this."

The silence that hung in the air after Y/N's testimony was palpable to where not even a knife could cut the tension. It didn't help that the Chancellor's features went neutral, almost unreadable save for his eyes which Y/N noted seemed to dance to an invisible tune that no human could comprehend. The way he looked at them was scary in a manner Y/N couldn't describe, but feel on a cellular level.

Ardyn slowly canted his head, a look of wonderment crossing his face briefly as he studied them. "How most naive of you..."

"What's going to happen next?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Y/N gulped. "What's going to happen to me? Am I to be shot outside your chambers or taken to prison?"

"You have quite the grotesque imagination," Ardyn chuckled at their expense, shaking his head in disbelief. "You heard the people back at the Grand Hall, you're to live this night."

"And after?"

He went silent again, and Y/N tried not to avert their gaze from his as he hummed.

"That remains to be decided, that being said, I believe we might be able to help each other."

Y/N's pulse spiked yet again as Ardyn's smile grew, and his pupils expanded; nearly overtaking the orange that covered his irises.

"Contrary to what you no doubt assume, I hold nothing nefarious toward you. You can snuff out the flame of whatever ills are invading your head at this moment." Ardyn said as a matter of fact before continuing. "Perhaps your tale of woe is a boon from the gods after all."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Let's just say I've been looking for an 'in' to get back into the good graces of your king's court for negotiation." Ardyn debated with himself on speaking further, then uncrossed his legs and adjusted in his seat. He scooted the chair a little closer to Y/N, eyes locking onto theirs. "You and I seem to have a similar appreciation for the art of conversation, and I find this potentially useful."

It became difficult for Y/N to comprehend what he was saying now, as the fear that overtook them seemed to filter out Ardyn's words. They could barely hear their voice over their heart beating, blood pumping so loud in their mind that the noise began to drown out everything else.

"You're trembling."

Ardyn's faint murmur snapped Y/N out of their trance, and they shook their head in protest. The hidden maliciousness they had sensed earlier returned, growing even stronger as Ardyn suddenly appeared inches from their face. Y/N didn't have time to breathe, much less comprehend the seconds in between.

"Do I frighten you?" He asked, his voice low and dark.

There was no point lying to him, not when those eyes could see through anything.

"Greatly..."

"Good..."

"I'd like to be placed in custody elsewhere," Y/N whispered, trying not to blink out of fear they'd find themselves in the jaws of a predator. His little laugh made their nerves freeze over.

"After the trouble I went through on your behalf, you'd soon rather leave me than hear further of my proposition?"

Y/N nodded. "I would."

"Well, I must implore you to listen carefully," Ardyn's voice dipped as he glared for the first time. "So long as you remain in the Empire, whether you like it or not, you're safest with me."

"I..." Y/N's body picked up on something their mind had trouble feeling out. It didn't help that this played in tandem with their stomach churning in knots over the way he stared them down. "I don't believe you."

And just like that, a dark chuckle from Ardyn broke the atmosphere and Y/N stared in confusion as he backed away and stood, looking down at them.

"I shall leave you to your thoughts," Ardyn gave a soft bow with his head toward Y/N and smirked. "We have much to discuss tomorrow once I sort through how to keep you alive."

He was starting to leave his chambers, until Y/N called out, still bothered by something.

"Wait!"

"Hmm?"

"Why did you speak on my behalf in the first place? You didn't know my intentions until now. What made you put on that performance and keep Aldercapt from cutting off my head?"

Ardyn once more debated with himself, his confidence from earlier waning as he hadn't expected them to cut to the chase as much as he did with them. A faint smile graced his lips when he noticed the connection, furthering the wheels that had been turning in his head.

"The night was dull," He shrugged. "And I was bored out of mind..."

He departed without another sound, closing the large doors behind him.

Y/N didn't even get the chance to ask where they would sleep.

Meanwhile, Ardyn ventured out of his dwelling and into the main hall. Not far from the doors, Verstael awaited him. The older man held a weight of exhaustion in his aged face as Ardyn grinned and walked past him.

"I came down from the keep as soon as I heard what you did." Verstael called out, and began to follow his colleague.

Ardyn smirked, slowing his pace so Verstael could catch up. "You missed out my dear friend! The ceremony became quite a spectacle after that. One could argue I saved the day in more ways than one."

"Be it as it may the party is over," Verstael sighed, shaking his head. "What says Aldercapt now about your new little friend?"

"For now," Ardyn began. "The gods show them favor."

"Just the gods?"

The pair stopped walking, and Ardyn's gaze burrowed into Verstael's as the old man stared him down. The hall became heavy with unspoken words that yearned to bubble to the surface.

"Just the gods..." Ardyn answered bluntly.

Verstael let out a small huff and smiled. "Let's keep it at that."

"You're worried?"

"A man in my position can't help but worry, especially when a dear colleague of his days ago confided he had been missing his home and, what would you know, a piece of it comes stumbling to our doorstep."

"Don't make me ill," Ardyn sighed, trying to cease rolling his eyes. "A distraction is fun, but not the end game as we both know."

Verstael gazed over Ardyn a few more times before deciding he had enough interrogating for now. "Come. I'd love to discuss what your plans are with the Lucian we now have at our disposal."

Ardyn didn't say a word as he and Verstael continued their walk. There were many things he neglected to consider when he vouched for Y/N's life, but he never considered they'd still be alive after their conversation—for he had fully been set on turning his pent-up daemonic tendencies loose upon them after they said their piece.

Nor did he anticipate growing fond of them already.

He bit the inside of his cheek.

Y/N was no diplomat, but Ardyn loved the prospects that stemmed from the fact.

If you like my work and feel generous, feel free to donate to my ko-fi account or my cash app account!

Cash App: $JayRex1463

[mastercherry]

Ghost x Soap prompt

Oh. Okay. I remember what I wanted to post on here earlier. You don't know this, but I totally had this idea earlier today and want to share it with the world but I got distracted and forgot all about it. But here I am.

Back at it again with a Call of Duty, Ghost and Soap fic prompt.

I don't have a lot of experience with the games. I just got my first one, MW3, like a month or 2 ago. I know a little bit of the storyline, and I've looked up a few canon things, but most of my experience is with fanfiction so far. I know there's some mixed feelings amongst the fandom as far as the fanfiction goes so I want to do my best to contribute in a positive way.

I encourage feedback and comments or additional ideas. Also, I'd love to join a Discord server about the different ships in the game so invite me if you'd like.

Without further delay, here's my COD Ghost x Soap prompt from earlier today:

You know the Underworld series? With the vampires and the werewolves? You know, specifically, Underworld: Rise of the Lycans?

*<*<*spoiler alert for Underworld: Rise of the Lycans to follow*>*>*

*<*<*spoiler alert for Underworld: Rise of the Lycans to follow*>*>*

*<*<*spoiler alert for Underworld: Rise of the Lycans to follow*>*>*

You know near the end when Lucian and Sonja are tied up, unable to reach each other as the sun rises? And it's stressful and painful but beautiful. And she looks up as the sun roof begins to open, but he's just begging her to look at him.

"Look at me, look at me. Keep your eyes on me."

And she takes strength from his gaze and she's able to face what happens next because he's there with her.

"I love you," he says.

"And I love you," she replies as the sun roof continues to open. She keeps her eyes on him until the end.

And he just screams in anguish and pain when she's gone. And the whole castle can hear him calling her name.

You know what I'm talking about?

Okay. So THAT idea but Ghost and Soap.

Hear me out. It's somewhat of a sci-fi/fantasy world. Ghost doesn't know what he is, not really. There are others like him, born from death, unkillable as far as he knows. Some sort of creature that humans start to call a Reaper. He's never really cared. And he's never really wanted to die.

Until he met Jonathan Riley.

And this was like maybe 2 or 3 hundred years ago. We're talking castles and horses and witch hunts. The supernatural world is unknown but humans are starting to learn. They're starting to see. They're calling anything non-human evil. It's bad. Werewolves, vampires, witches- all real. All in danger during these dark times.

And here he meets Jonathan Riley. Nothing special really. He's from a poor family, with several siblings, barely enough food to eat. He helps his dad in the stables, helps his mom in the kitchen. Keeps the little ones busy. Picks up odd jobs around the small village Simon only visits every other week. And really, he only does it to keep up the appearance of being a normal human.

It's one of these visits where he quite literally runs into Jonathan. And it's all history from there. Jonathan might not be anything special to the village, but he's everything to Simon. He's the world. Suddenly, life is full of color and wonder.

When a disease wreaks havoc on the village, killing almost everyone, it's only Simon and Jonathan who come out unscathed. Fingers to be pointed. Whispers start to poison what remaining ears are left to listen.

And so Simon and Jonathan are put to death for witchcraft. At least, Jonathan is. They try to break Simon down and all they learn is that he can take a beating and not break. They know he's something else. A demon maybe. And he gave the magic of witchcraft to Jonathan who will be burned at the stake.

And here's where we have the Underworld Rise of Lycans scene. Simon is beaten and broken, chained down as he's forced to watch the pyre burn down his whole world.

When he's eventually freed he brings death upon everyone who played a part in taking Jonathan's life. He becomes the demon that they feared.

He wastes away for a while after that, not caring about anything. Not eating or sleeping, just wandering. Watching the dull gray fog of time pass him by, wishing he could die and join his beloved Jonathan in the after life.

Eventually, the supernatural world is fully revealed. It takes a while for the two worlds to work hand in hand, but one day there's hardly anyone left who remembers the time when supernatural creatures had to hide. There's just Simon and the few others like him who can't seem to die.

He lived so long in the shadows as a ghost that he still, to this day, doesn't know how Price got a hold of him. How anyone got a hold of him. But they found him. Recruited him. And when they asked for his name?

Simon Riley.

It gives him a purpose again, being part of the 141. They call him Ghost. How right they were. He was just a shell. Nothing more than a directionless shade until Price came along.

And then, one day, the world bursts back into amazing wonderful color and warmth.

Enter in one John "Soap" MacTavish.

Long story short, Soap is the reincarnation of Jonathan Riley.

And they get to fall in love with each other all over again.

Sorry this is so long. It got away from me a little bit LOL

[meyousing]

𝓥𝓲𝓮𝓰𝓸, 𝓥𝓸𝔀𝓼 𝓐𝓻𝓮 𝓢𝓹𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓷

𝓻𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽:  viego + prompt 6 “I’m not going to leave you, and you’re not going to leave me either.” + prompt 16 “i’ll destroy anyone that gets in my way, anyone that tries to get in between us.”

𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼:  senna and lucian were able to save you from viego’s captivity and keep you safe, far away from him. but a world that would rob viego of beauty is a world that deserves destruction.

𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼: yandere viego x reader, brief nsfw, kidnapping, manipulation, murderous implications, possessive viego (aka normal viego lol) 

“Lucian forgot to buy honey the last time he went out, hope you don’t mind” Senna shot you an apologetic look as she slid your mug across the table, the dark tea inside sloshing over the edge from the motion. She cursed at the sight and you thanked her quietly, letting the porcelain’s warmth thaw out your frigid fingers. Shaking off the cold of the Shadow Isles proved to be a tough feat, so as long as your tea was piping hot, you didn’t mind it lacking any sweetener. 

You watched Senna grab a cloth and drag it over the spill, a chill jolting you simultaneously, goosebumps flooding over the expanse of your skin. You couldn’t help but look over to the window as if this chill was caused by an external force; from out there, and not the easily explained reaction of your freezing palms coming into fast contact with the heat of your beverage.  

Your nerves were at an all-time high, but could anyone really blame you? This was the first time that you were anywhere near free in a long time. When Viego decided that you were his, that you would be his queen and bound you to his side, your freedom was instantly stripped away. The only daylight you were permitted to see or fresh air you were allowed to breathe was what you could glean from the castle windows, and the only alone time you ever had was to use the bathroom, albeit time that was limited since he would begin calling you back to him if he felt that you were taking too long, rushing you. Other than that, you were always glued to Viego’s hip. Senna and Lucian rescuing you was nothing short of a miracle that required extremely hard work and months of planning. You were so grateful that it worked out, feeling eternally indebted to the couple. You had expressed this to Senna but she would always brush you off, saying that you owed her nothing for simply returning your freedom. 

Your eyes were still fixed on the window, but not really seeing beyond it. You observed the scenic, bustling street and the shining rays of the sun, the gentle rustling of the front garden’s flowers as if they were all a picture; as if they would be flat to the touch if you reached out. As if they weren’t real. Was anything real beyond four walls? Despite the immense gratitude you continued to feel towards Senna and Lucian, you knew that it would be a very long time before they would let you leave the house or be seen outdoors by yourself, for your safety, because Viego has eyes everywhere, they would tell you. By that logic, you couldn’t help but wonder… were you really free after all? How could you be free if you still weren’t allowed to stand within those bustling streets, or to bask in the shining sun’s rays and smell the flowers' sweet scents? If Viego had eyes everywhere, did he know where you were right now? Was this even worth it?

You had begun to space out as these questions plagued you, the view of the outdoors not soothing you much despite how unchanging it was, which should have done nothing but reassure you; made you think that you had all the time in the world to experience nature if it remained the same for so long. 

But then the scene did change. A figure deviated from the crowd in the street, adjacent to everyone else who was hurriedly on their way to a destination far away from this address. Being preoccupied with your thoughts caused your eyesight to blur, you were unable to make out who this figure could be as the sight became larger and larger; they were coming closer. 

Did Viego find you already?! 

A jingling sound was muffled from outside, you blinked rapidly to try and desperately clear your vision, whipping your head to the doorknob to watch the lock turn. 

He was coming in. He had a key. 

A creak chimed out, the once dimly lit dining room now much more illuminated from the sun as the door opened and revealed Viego’s silhouette to you in all of his glory. You felt stuck outside of your body, paralyzed and only able to utter incoherent sounds equivalent to small gasps for air. He stopped moving in once he had breached the doorway, looking over at you. Your sight was still impaired, but with a few more blinks and shakes of the head you cleared it quite quickly, and your heart dropped in relief. 

“You okay?” Lucian asked, his eyes mirroring yours when they widened. His eyebrows raised as he kicked the door closed behind him, his arms too full of shopping bags to do it instead. Now that the sunlight was gone and the regular lighting of the room was restored, you could see him much better. It was just Lucian.

Right. How could you forget Senna mentioning that Lucian wasn’t here when you woke up because he went back out to grab items he forgot from his last shopping trip… such as that aforementioned honey? It was as if your remembrance of her words had summoned her, she was at your side right after Lucian spoke, gently taking your shoulder and watching you with concern. The pressure of their conjoined stares made your cheeks burn in the embarrassment of your mistake. Not to mention how you never liked being the centre of attention; something that made the obsessed spotlight that Viego cast upon you feel that much worse.

“I am, I’m fine. Sorry.” You didn’t feel the need to explain yourself because, above all else, Senna and Lucian were two of the most understanding people you had ever met. Their patience for you was unmatched, you were well aware that they appreciated your situation and didn’t expect you to elaborate when you didn’t feel the desire to. You were sure that they knew what had happened just now anyway, their expressions becoming cognizant rather quickly following your silence. 

Senna patted you before walking over to take a bag from Lucian, hauling it to the counter so she could begin unloading its contents. You watched her and sipped at your tea now that it had cooled down a bit, the mundane task that she was carrying out bringing you comfort from its regularity. 

“Did you get more honey?” she asked, having finished her chore faster than you could register when the now empty paper bag tipped over on the counter, and she turned to rest her back against the edge of the surface, arms crossing over her chest while she glanced at Lucian. You followed her eyes, watching Lucian place the other bag next to himself on the ground so he could lean down and slip his shoes off with free hands.

“Did I get more of what?” he responded nonchalantly, not bothering to look up as he did. That caused him to miss the instant droop of Senna’s expression which you were happy to have witnessed, stifling a laugh from the interaction. 

Consolation began filling you at the sight of such a silly exchange; as you realized that you really were okay. You knew that everything happening to you right now did so for a reason. You were going to have to stay inside the couple’s home for a little while longer if you wanted any future freedom at all, and that was okay. They were willing to protect you for as long as they had to, and you just knew that they would save you once more if a time ever came when Viego did find you again. Of course, you also knew (no, you didn’t actually know. But you dearly hoped) that Viego never would be able to find you again. Besides, if they were able to save you from him in the first place, then he didn’t do a good enough job of keeping you away. 

Feeling so comforted, so protected, you decided that today was going to be the first of many when you would finally live for yourself. This was the first time that you were anywhere near independent in a long time. Why not start making the most of it? Chugging down the last of your tea, you stood abruptly, chair screeching as the force of your movement pushed it back on the wood floor. The duo looked at you at the same time, Lucian now upright and jumping slightly at the sound of your empty teacup slamming down onto the table (you mumbled an apology, not meaning to be so rough with their possessions).

“Let’s do something fun. Do either of you have plans?” You placed your hands on your hips, taking on a strong stance to show off just how strong you were after everything you had dealt with thus far.

“None aside from watching over you” Senna shrugged. Lucian nodded his agreement, waiting for you to continue. With a deep breath and a smile, you did.

“We are going to bake some treats. I’ll even teach you some recipes from my homeland! Did you happen to buy any jam?” you turned to Lucian, joining your hands with index fingers pointed at him, ever-focused. He perked up, seemingly delighted at your sudden liveliness. Senna must have felt the same, this was the biggest show of enthusiasm that you had to offer since getting here.

“I don’t remember buying any… but we probably have some here already!” Lucian returned your smile, slipping past Senna to the refrigerator so he could check, careening the door open quickly and creating a cracking sound which caused Senna to scold him and roll her eyes at his sheepishly mumbled apology. A moment passed before his hand raised, showing off a half-full jar of strawberry jam. You shimmied in delight, listening to Senna’s warm chuckle at your reaction.

“What else, captain?” she asked, more than glad to entertain your newfound ardour as she opened a drawer containing various baking utensils, like patterned rolling pins and spatulas. Sparkles formed in your eyes at the sight, the prospect of making delicious, fragrant pastries already making your mouth water and your excitement become unbearable if you were to dally any longer.

You were finally reminded of what it could feel like to be home. 

–

With droopy eyes, you wiped some sticky jam off of your cheek as you swallowed the final bite of your cookie, feeling drowsy and content from such a long day full of baking and devouring delicacies. 

“I almost forgot how good these are, I haven't had one in years…let alone the entire plate, sorry” you chuckled shamefully, slumping further into the couch as Lucian picked your crumb-littered plate up from the coffee table. Could they really blame you for eating every last one? you haven’t had these cookies in years because there was almost nothing in the Shadow Isles, aside from remnants of some alcohol and limited foods Viego brought you from a long time ago in Camavor, food that was far past the point of decay. Indulgence never happened for you anymore. 

“I’ll remember the recipe” Lucian grinned before turning to bring the dish to the kitchen, and you let your eyes close peacefully when the sound of the sink’s running water began. You were only able to doze for a moment, a gentle nudge to your arm stopped you from getting too comfortable just yet. You peered an eye open to see Senna standing over you. 

“Why don’t you lay down in bed? We’ll clean up, go get some rest somewhere more comfortable.” 

Good idea you thought. Senna was always full of great ideas. She also blinked at you, mildly perplexed as to why you had yet to respond. Oh, you hadn’t said that out loud!

“Good idea” you repeated with the evidence of your fatigue much too clear as you ran a hand over your face and stood on wobbly legs. Senna gave you a sympathetic smirk, classically understanding what just happened as she said nothing else and went to join Lucian in the kitchen, leaving you to your own devices for the night. It really was unfortunate that the activities of the day had worn you out so quickly, you would have loved to spend more time with the two, but you also knew that catching up on rest was equally as important, if not more. At least the small dose of caffeine in the tea from earlier had given you enough energy for baking at all, and what pleasant memories you were able to make as a result!

Upon arriving at your room, you closed the door behind you, domestic sounds of the post-baking cleanup now muffled to your ears as you trudged to your bed with heavy steps. You had decided to stay cozy today, having already worn a nightgown since the morning. Unfortunately, you couldn’t let yourself rest just yet within these pyjamas, because they were now covered in flour and stained with small flecks of jam. 

Worth it, you told yourself as your eyes fell shut, feeling too sleepy to keep them open a moment longer even as you unbuttoned your gown and let it fall to your feet. Stepping out of it, you decided to take the lazier route tonight, leaving it on the floor rather than placing it in the hamper as you moved to search your drawer for a new one. I’ll clean my room tomorrow morning.

 Being left in your undergarments as you blindly felt around in your drawer, the room felt much colder, naturally. Though it was bizarrely cold, the temperature today had not been low enough for you to be reasonably feeling goosebumps rise on your skin right now. With some restraint, your eyes opened and your hands stopped moving. You began scanning around your room, feeling slightly unnerved. What exactly were you looking for, anyway? Maybe your room just felt chillier because it was on the second floor, it took longer for the heat to get up here… right? Just as your chin met with your shoulder and you could see what was directly behind you, a sigh of solace passed your lips. 

Your window was open.

Now everything made so much more sense! Regarding the temperature drop, at least. While you couldn’t recall opening your window at any point this morning, you also didn’t want to think too much or for too long about it, scurrying over to close it and warm yourself up once and for all; to be rid of the constant chills that kept running marathons on your flesh today. Reaching up above your head, your fingertips met with the lift and you wasted no time in pulling it down.

As the window closed with a resounding thud, freezing-cold hands grabbed your hips from behind. 

Paralysis was imminent, your last motion being the removal of your own hands from the window, unable to move them anymore once they fell back to your sides. Perhaps if you had kept your eyes open when you got here, you’d have noticed the lingering black mist submerging the floor.

“My love,” his voice was trembly, breath frigid on your neck as you felt him push his front against your back, bodies glued together once again, like all of those times before.  

Viego found you. 

You tried to say his name, but you couldn’t find your voice. You wanted to acknowledge him, get a response, and ensure that you were not dreaming and this was real.

Another thing that you regretfully noticed and solidified how real this was, was that he was hard, slowly rutting his hips against your ass and gradually pressing you further and further against the wall, your cheek squishing into the glass of the window. You already felt utterly violated, so exposed in the minimal clothing you wore and the lewd movements Viego made against you. This lasted only for a moment, but of course, it wasn't over; he flipped you around so he could stand between your legs, to grind against your clothed pussy and move his hands to your face, holding your cheeks with earnest, his eyes glowing in the darkness of the room as they bore into yours. 

The friction of his cock against you had started to numb your body, thighs beginning to tremble as you swallowed hard and grabbed at his forearms. As if that clutch could manage to give you any kind of control over this, something you never had with him.

“How did you find me?” you managed to get out with a voice that was almost inaudible, but your words never went unnoticed by Viego even when you tried, no matter how quiet.

“It wasn’t difficult.” His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, his eyes following the motion, a quiet whimper sounding in his throat. “Our souls are bound, we will never be truly separated forever.” He was so close. You felt his lips brush against yours with every word he spoke, heat rushing to your face and a familiar feeling stirring inside of you. You had to distract yourself, to think of something else. This could not escalate any further if you wanted to have any kind of power here at all. Viego knew your every weakness.

“A-are you going to take me back to the Shadow Isles?” you asked quickly despite the stutter, and as your voice broke when you spoke the word shadow, Viego’s eyebrows met in concern. His motions ceased, though he remained impossibly close to you. You really didn’t like how calm he seemed. Any time you acted out of line he would lose his mind, giving you punishments that he claimed hurt his heart to inflict but that it was entirely your fault. His display of the polar opposite reaction to your misbehaviour was something to be afraid of, and that you were. You couldn’t help but wonder how he managed to get here undetected, even with the proof of his mist filling your room. But then a horrifying thought came to you. 

“What did you do to Lucian and Senna?!” 

Viego shushed you too swiftly after you spoke, soothingly dragging his thumb from your cheek to your lips, pressing on the bottom one as he put his forehead against yours. 

“What they did is unforgivable, condemnable. How dare they take what is mine?!” His eyes screwed shut in anger and his thumb pushed in a little harder, but not painfully. You noticed that he must have been trying to stay quiet, his words were malicious and enraged but his volume was just barely above a whisper. He took a deep breath before continuing. “One thing I noticed was that you were not scared. You were not upset with them for the atrocity they committed. As much as I wanted to make them one with the mist, I did not want to be the cause of your upset once more.”

This caused your brain to stop. If you heard correctly and were not relying on wishful thinking, Viego was admitting how he was… aware? Aware of how much grief he caused you in the past, of how any time he thought he was making the right decision for your sake, he couldn’t have been more wrong. 

“If you come back with me now, they will be spared. We will leave now, leave no trace.” He looked into your eyes, hopeful. 

You weren’t dumb enough to think that the chances of living a life free from Viego were guaranteed. You were hopeful too though, hopeful that you could have had a bit more time. Two days were not enough. The closest you got to enjoying the fresh air and sunlight was during the walk from the wagon into the house on your first day here: ten seconds, if not less. Before you could stop yourself, a small sob wracked you, tears forming in your eyes as you stifled a whimper. Viego looked like he had a heart attack when you did, quickly pulling your head to his shoulder and embracing you tightly. 

“Shh, do not cry. I will keep you safe from now on. I’m not going to leave you, and you’re not going to leave me either. Never again.” He cooed these words into your ear, his tone awfully sultry as he stroked your hair and squeezed you close. All they did was make you feel worse, a full cry leaving your lips as his caresses suffocated you, his body on yours (that was still so naked in comparison) making you feel immensely claustrophobic between him and the wall.

He continued on with soothing you, ineffectively at that. You couldn’t handle anymore, inhaling shakily as you started to resist, trying to push him off of you and create some space between yourselves. For a moment you thought that you had succeeded, as he pulled away and placed both his hands on the sides of your head, fingers weaving through your hair in pause. 

Then, after grabbing fistfuls of your hair, he leaned in and kissed you, hard.

If suffocation was a mere phantom sensation before, it was full-on now. He smothered you so intensely and so vigorously that you forgot to breathe, whining into his mouth as you grabbed onto the collar of his jacket for some kind of grounding, dizzying stars appearing behind your eyelids. The rise and fall of your chest became brisk against him, you truly began to worry that he would kiss you to unconsciousness. His eventual pulling away was slow, something you would consider romantic or passionate if this were any other scenario, but the sharp inhale you took through your mouth right after was a definite mood killer. Well, it would have been to anyone else. It seemed you could do no wrong in Viego’s eyes. 

“As saccharine as honey,” he whispered, tone low and sweet like the very substance he mentioned; one you regretted not asking for in your tea this morning because a return to the Shadow Isles meant no sustenance or special treats like that ever again. The thought of returning to that dull, prison-like lifestyle sent more tears to your waterlines, which soon streamed down your face. Viego watched them fall, grimacing.

“Your tears induce my own” he spoke brokenly, thumbing at your cheeks with the utmost precision until they were dry beneath his touch. 

“I’m so much happier here than with you” you managed to sputter out amidst your snivelling, already knowing what damage those words could induce but still needing to speak your piece either way. Viego seemed legitimately frozen after registering what you said, his movements ceasing slowly. 

“I gave you everything. All that I do is for you.” He looked down, contemplative. “How much happier could you possibly be here than with me?”

“I’ve never wanted even half of what you’ve done for me, Viego” you cried, trying not to let the way he looked up at you shatter your heart when you saw how sad his eyes were. Instead, you tried to interpret his expression in a different way… in a way that proved you were getting through to him and felt encouraged to push the limits.  “Please, just let me stay here. It’s what’s best for both of us.” You tried shoving at his chest to create some space between yourselves once more, and to your shock, he moved back a step from the force. You shivered from the sudden separation, hardly realizing how much warmth his usually frigid body managed to provide to yours with how bare it was as of now. He was certainly in his own state of shock from your words, even a “heart” as cold and dead as his could feel a pang of hurt from the ugly truth. 

You took advantage of his reaction and used the surprise that you felt as adrenaline to get moving. With eyes blown wide and completely focused on him, you began to step away and past him, intent on slowly walking to the bedroom door and throwing it open before making a full run for it, so you could alert Senna of what was going on and be saved from whatever future Viego intended for you. 

You only made it a couple of feet away before he spoke.

“Until you return to my arms, all will be brought to ruin.”

You paused, dreadfully looking at him from over your shoulder. He was looking at you the same way, his back still visible to you but his eyes piercing.

“I will not lose you again. I will destroy anyone that gets in my way, anyone that tries to get in between us.” He turned to you fully, making your breath hitch as the room started to feel a lot stuffier, the black mist thickening immensely. He approached you through the fog, taking long strides that you tried to back away from but met with the door of your closet after one measly step, effectively trapping yourself once more. Stopping just before you, he raised his arms with upward-facing palms in the falsest show of submission you had ever seen, one that felt like a mockery. “Come back to me, Y/N.”

You remained motionless. Viego was many things, many brutish, despicable things, but never a liar. If he was intent on destroying the entire world until you were in his grasp once more, he would do it hundreds of times over. Despite knowing this and fearing the worst, your desire for freedom still called to you from the back of your mind, a small voice on the brink of defeat, yet one that still held out so much hope. 

“Please don’t make me.” Weak and dry, your voice was so broken. Defeated. Even Viego simpered vilely, both of you understood that this was a desperate last effort and that you had no chance, that this effort had failed.

“If you want them to live, you know what to do.” 

You were crying again. Not a theatrical, loud cry, simply hot tears that impaired your vision and swelled your throat, making it feel full and suppressive to any words you wanted to say. With a shaky breath and a harsh swallow, you managed to communicate just one. One that you dreaded saying as it would be a form of confirmation, but you could not let this continue, you could not leave Senna and Lucian at risk after all they had done for you. 

“Okay,” it was a groggy murmur, with a tone that would have been so obviously averse to anyone else’s ears. But to Viego, it was an instant victory, your wholehearted agreement. You looked at his smug expression while you trod to him heavily, so slow with feet that felt encased in cement as if to stall your impending doom for as long as you could. Viego was not a patient man, but you knew that right now he would let you walk to him for hours longer if it guaranteed your return. 

His shorter wait in reality certainly was a guarantee, you found yourself folding in on yourself against his chest much sooner than you would have liked. While his hold was something that you usually dreaded being in, right now it brought a soothing sense of familiarity as you felt his arms envelop you like a shield, protectively. He pulled you even tighter against him, your hips touching and reminding you of the state he was still in even after all of this. He then leaned down until his lips were right by your ear, brushing over your lobe. 

“You know how much it pains me to punish your wrongdoings, but I cannot let your abandonment go undisciplined. We will discuss this further when we get home.”

You tried to look up at him while the mist began to engulf your surroundings, your sight becoming more and more narrow until all you could see was Viego and his utterly heartbroken eyes, classically so, because the topic of him hurting you just seemed to hurt him even more. Somehow, the view broke your heart too, regret filling you as you never truly wanted to upset the man who loved you so much. Before succumbing to the darkness, all you could think of was how glad you were to have the peace restored, to know that all would be well between you and your Ruined King once again as soon as you woke up. No more false happy endings, no more delusions of thinking that you were allowed to live and experience silly things like nature. You would be returning to the truth and stability with the man who would do anything for you, and that was all you ever needed. 

© meyousing 2023. do not share/export my work on to any other platforms. do not translate my work. 

[tetsunabouquet]

Titan Shifters; Eren Yeager X Reader

A/N: Like I mentioned on my blog, I watched a Rise Of The Lycans analysis a few days ago and this prompted me to go on a rewatch. I am blaming this fic on Lucian.

You were jittering with nerves, being assigned to help with Eren's titan shifting experiments so they could compare your data. You were really intrigued by him. Born of human parents, yet being able to shift into a titan. Unlike you. You were the prized secret of the Survey Corps, the secret they had been hiding from the military police since your birth. The story they told was that they found you as a baby during their expedition, miraculously alive and the Survey Corps insisted into adopting you at their base under the excuse they had grown attached to you. The real truth was much more strange, and horrifying. On a scouting mission, they encountered a few titans, one acting more strangely then the rest. At first, they thought it was an Abnormal, until it started to evaporate on its own. In the middle of the smoke and bones, was a baby. You. The daughter of a titan and completely looking like a normal human baby. Keith Shadis who had been the Commander at the time, looked at the baby in his arms and he did not have it in him to surrender you to the Military Police and what kind of tests they might do to a tiny little baby. Keith Shadis was a hard man, but not heartless. As imperfect as he was, he had been the only father you'd ever known and you were sad to see him go. But he said it was for the best, especially after that event on your 8th birthday which had transpired a year before the fall of Shiganshina, when you had transformed into a 12 meter titan by accident. It seemed like you were some kind of half-titan, Hange would later conclude. Erwin had been good to you after he came into charge at the Survey Corps and Levi thankfully managed to keep Hange under control who continued to creep you out. But you missed Keith all the same. Getting a new piece of the puzzle of the titan mystery and your own, had made you look forward to meeting the boy. You had not nearly expected him to be so cute and looking like he would grow into a very handsome man. Needless to say, you had a slight crush and the idea of comparing your titan form to his, just flustered you beyond belief.

Things had turnt out interesting, like finding out Eren needed to self harm and focus in order to shift. You never did, you only needed to focus on a woman you presumed had been your mother's human form. She would often come to you in your dreams and you very vividly remembered blowing out the birthday candles on your eight birthday, thinking of that woman and how she never got to see you grow up before you transformed. Eren's titan had a different smell then the other titans you've encountered before. He still smelt human after turning into a titan. Hange had found it marvellous and had proceeded to question you why you never said titans smelt different to you and how humans smelt like. This was exactly why you never told Hange anything, because she would bombard you with questions that gave a headache. When she finally backed down, you had the opportunity to sit down in peace. Much to your surprise, Eren sat down next to you. "She finally left you off the hook huh?" He remarked and you chuckled. "Seems so." "How have you endured her for so long?" Eren asked which made you sigh with the weight of tolerating Hange for years. "I suppose it's my angelic patience." You offered as you looked up at the sun that hung low in the sky. "I swear she can be so creepy, like the way she measures my titan form every month as mine does ages alongside me. It gives me the icks." "So your titan underwent puberty? Like…" Eren looked a little red faced but continued bluntly, "it didn't always have boobs?" You stuttered with an even redder face,"Just wh-what were you l-looking at?!" "I'm a boy you know, and you're hot." Eren clarified and you might as well have fainted on the spot. Eren Yeager certainly changed your life for good, that's for sure.

[queenarahbo]

Is Anyone Going To Say It?

Fluff ensues when Diantha takes care of a sick Cynthia on vacation. Sicktember Prompts Filled: Day 17: Brain Fog/Spacing Out Day 25: Summer Flu

Cynthia prided herself on her composed nature. She maintained a sense of calm and rationality in all situations, never succumbing to anger or agitation. This unwavering demeanor was her defining trait, or so she believed until she encountered Diantha. The presence of the other woman seemed to effortlessly dismantle Cynthia's composure, leaving her flustered and disarmed. Despite Diantha finding Cynthia's reactions endearing, it only served to exacerbate her unease. Their rapid bond led to sharing intimate details about their lives, and while others in their circle teased Cynthia about harboring feelings for the model, she dismissed such notions as absurd. Yet, as she lay cocooned under a mass of blankets on Diantha's expansive sectional, Cynthia couldn't help but ponder whether someone as extraordinary as Diantha could possibly reciprocate her feelings.

"Are you still cold?" Diantha asked, her voice low.

Cynthia's attempt to reassure Diantha with "I'm fine" was dismissed when a sudden shiver shook her body. She looked sheepishly at Diantha, who disapproved of her attempt to downplay how she was feeling. Diantha responded by clicking her tongue and bringing an extra blanket to help keep Cynthia warm.

Diantha settled back next to Cynthia and gently chided, "You should just tell me when you need something. I'm here for you."

"I can manage though. You have enough to do without worrying over me." Cynthia let out a deep sigh as Diantha carded her fingers through her hair.

"So you don't want me to take care of you?"

Cynthia's heart ached as she detected the hurt tone in Diantha's voice, and a sense of guilt washed over her. "That wasn't what I meant..." She longed to offer more comfort to her friend, but a dry sensation in her throat triggered another bout of coughing. She expressed her gratitude with a nod when Diantha kindly offered her some water. "I understand that you have a lot on your plate."

"And I took the time off to spend the week with you." Diantha countered "Sick or not."

"Trust me when I say this was not planned." Cynthia rasped with a wince. In truth, she hadn���t realized she was sick at first. It was only when they were walking around the city in the heat that Cynthia began to realize that something was wrong. It had started with a small headache and rapidly turned into the dizziness that had caused her to pass out. At first, the pair had attributed it to the heat, but once they were back in Diantha’s house it only seemed to get worse. The chills set in and Cynthia began to lose all interest in food.

I understand," Diantha murmured with sympathy. "You're the one who ended up with the short end of the stick in this situation. Dealing with flu in the middle of summer is certainly challenging.

Cynthia sighed in frustration as she set aside her book. "I wish I could focus and think clearly," she lamented. She had tried to read the same page four times, but her mind just couldn't seem to concentrate.

"That would be from the fever. Once it comes down you will feel better. Did you tell the others about this?"

"Yes. Lucian is worrying as always." Cynthia groaned as her phone buzzed with another text from her right hand. "He's acting like I am dying."

"To his credit, he is really putting in a lot of effort. You should hear how Seibold dotes on me," Diantha chuckled. "He's constantly checking in. I think I know how we can get them to give us some space." Diantha's lips curled into a small smile as she motioned towards the vacant spot next to her on the couch. "Scoot over here.

"What are you planning?" Cynthia questioned as she moved. Her head was still pounding.

"This." Diantha swooped over and pulled Cynthia onto her lap and pressed her lips against Cynthia's cheek teasingly before quickly snapping a picture. She let the other woman go when she pulled away, face bright red.

"Dia! What are you doing?" Cynthia demanded. She was surprised that she could find the words that she wanted at the moment. "Don't send that!"

"Too late." Diantha winked "I bet they leave us alone now though. It will be nice to have some peace."

"And it will give them the wrong idea about us. Did you send that to Lucian too?" Cynthia did her best to glare at her best friend. Was she trying to make their league members think they were dating now? Lucian was sure to question her when she returned to Sinnoh.

"I most certainly did." Diantha grinned triumphantly.

“Naturally…” Cynthia let out a resigned sigh as she collapsed onto the soft, welcoming couch. Without resistance, she allowed Diantha to cradle her head in her lap and gently run her fingers through her hair.

"Now, I'm going to turn on a movie and you are going to relax.” Diantha soothed as she reached over and took the remote from the table “You need to rest. Your fever won't come back down otherwise. The sooner we get that down the sooner your head will stop hurting."

"You could tell huh?" Cynthia craned her head up to look at Diantha. She shouldn’t be surprised anymore. It was like Diantha always knew what she was thinking. It was unsettling having someone who knew her so well, but she also found it comforting. The thought of not having Diantha around was horrible.

"I know you. I could tell when it started."

Lucian stared in confusion at the photo displayed on his screen.

"Okay, seriously." Flint groaned "Is nobody going to say it?"

"Say what?" Aaron tilted his head to the side.

"Those two are in love." Lucian supplied without missing a beat. He shoved his phone back into his pocket "What I do not understand is why they keep involving me."

"You should really give her some space." Drasna scolded as she plucked Seibold's phone from his hands.

"Especially since she is with Cynthia. Maybe this will finally get those two to admit that they are more than friends." Wikstrom agreed.

"Those two are clueless." Seibold sighed, lunging after Drasna "Return that at once."

"Or what?" Drasna smirked darkly.

"Fine. Have it your way." Seibold pulled out a pokeball from his pocket, his sharp glare fixed on his fellow league member.