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theladyofbloodshed · 3 months ago

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@nerisweek Day 4 - NSFW

Rain pounded against the glass. It was made worse from the height. The House of Wind always did experience extreme forms of weather. It was a house made for storms. The steady rumble of thunder seemed to rattle the glass in the window panes.

‘He’s doing it on purpose,’ said Feyre, her arms crossed.

Rhys gave a low chuckle in response. ‘Do you think Eris Vanserra does anything without a purpose?’

Nesta had thought little of the Vanserra heir in recent months. Communication had been quiet for other reasons; Feyre had survived her son’s birth at the price of Nesta’s magic. She’d come through the Blood Rite relatively unscathed physically, but it had left marks elsewhere. Cassian bearing down on her with a weapon – even if he was controlled by the Crown – was a vision she struggled to shake off. They had not been intimate since before that day. Her body was repelled by him despite his attempts to find his way into her room at night. She could not picture his hands without imagining them around her neck. They hardly spoke at all.

‘You shouldn’t let him make demands,’ Mor said, scowling from her chair near the window where she sat with her ankles crossed upon the windowsill. ‘He’ll think he has power if he you give him wiggle room.’

‘If he wants to hunt down a suspected Made object then he can take Elain to sniff it out,’ added Cassian.

That rankled her. Elain wasn’t going anywhere near Eris, Lucien’s brother or not.

‘My sister is not a hound. Nor am I.’

‘I can go,’ Feyre suggested. ‘Nyx is feeding every few hours so I can winnow there and back in between.’

Rhysand trailed his fingers down her bare, tattooed arm. ‘How generous you are, Feyre darling, but Eris has been very insistent that Nesta should be the one to assist him.’

‘Eris can get fucked,’ declared Cassian.

Whether they liked it or not, Eris had the upper hand. Somehow, he had Keir eating out of the palm of his hand and they needed that sway to influence the steward of the Hewn City. He wanted only Nesta with him, claiming her brand of magic was what was needed. They had been reluctant to tell him that the fabled magic was gone. They had tried to bargain that Azriel would go as an escort but Eris claimed that any others would not be shielded and he was reluctant to allow more eyes into his father’s fortress.

‘Let us be done with this,’ muttered Nesta. ‘I am tired of hearing of it.’

Maybe one day she wouldn’t be used as a pawn.

***

The meeting was arranged quickly. A summons to Eris courtesy of Azriel and his power so that within moments he was in the Hewn City awaiting them. Nesta had not bothered to change into leathers or arm herself, much to Cassian’s frustration. She had not trained since returning from the Blood Rite; the idea of picking up a weapon made her sick to her stomach. The absence of her magic was a relief, despite what Cassian proclaimed. A lack of magic hadn’t mattered when she was dragged from her bed a second time and forced into the Blood Rite.

Eris had been insistent with his letters that no harm would come to her, she was merely needed to sense if a Made object was close in his father’s trove of treasures.

A tendril of Rhysand’s magic scratched its claw against the walls of her mind. She hated when he forced his way there. Hated knowing he was in her head, left to rifle through her thoughts and memories at his pleasure.

Take in as much as you can of the Forest House, he said. I want to know exactly what is in Beron’s treasure vaults.

Nesta was a tool to be used when Rhysand felt like it – and now, apparently, when Eris wanted her.

‘No harm is to come to her,’ warned Cassian, a hot, heavy hand clinging to her shoulder. It took every effort not to throw it off.

Eris, dressed in a suit the colour of scorched earth, gave a lazy grin. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. On my honour as a Vanserra, Nesta will come to no harm.’

There were another four or five warnings thrown his way which he took in good faith, smiling blandly and picking the sleeve of his jacket as though he was bored. It amused Nesta to a degree to see how unmoved he was in the face of threats from the Night Court. If anything, Eris seemed quite amused by it too.

A pale hand was extended to her. She remembered how it had felt on the Winter Solstice – like a glove that fit perfectly to hers.

Before she could say a goodbye, Eris had tugged her closer and winnowed. Magic swirled around them, the red flame of his power enough to scorch if she didn’t move closer to him.

There was no rain in the Autumn Court. A blustery wind blew through the thick woods, sending gold and amber leaves spiralling to the ground, but the temperature was mild. The sun shone in the sky as it began its slow descent for the evening.

Behind a set of gilded gates, the Forest House sat. It reminded her of the many manor houses that she’d visited as a child whilst travelling with Mother once she was of the age to join her pinched-face friends for tea.

‘The Forest House is smaller than I expected,’ she said bluntly.

Eris kept a grip on her hand as if she might disappear.

‘This is not the Forest House. This is my private residence.’

The gates opened for him as Eris tugged her through before they slammed shut again. She felt the seal of magic trapping them there, the wards fortifying and old.

‘You said you would take me to the Forest House.’

A smirk crept onto his face. ‘I lied.’

This male did not care. Lies spilt freely from his tongue. There was not a single soul in the world he cared for except his own.

‘Take me back,’ demanded Nesta, relinquishing her hand from his grasp. ‘Now.’

‘Are you so eager to return to the Night Court?’

Nesta could not give him an answer. She felt like an imposter amongst them. The court wasn’t home, merely a place she resided in because there was nowhere else for her.

‘You are wrong for this,’ she warned him, hurrying her steps to match his long strides. ‘When we return, I will ensure they know what you’ve done.’

Eris gave an unworried laugh. ‘Who said I will return you?’

When her expression slipped into confusion, Eris laughed again – this one different. It was warm and he’d tossed his head back briefly, before touching a hand to the small of her back to sweep her ahead of him.

‘I will,’ he promised, mouth tipped near the point of her ear. ‘When I’ve had my fun, I will return you.’

Rich wood panelled much of what Nesta could see inside Eris’ private residence. It was coupled with opulent paintings and thick rugs woven with red and gold threads. Yet it was quiet. A manor of this size should have been bustling with servants who’d suddenly go silent in the presence of their master. Eris kicked off his shoes, leaving them where they fell, then tossed his jacket onto a hook. He peered through the front window then remarked, ‘The dogs are outside. Should I let them in?’

Nesta was so taken aback by the sudden carelessness he displayed that she was momentarily silenced – and when she could speak, all Nesta could manage was a single utterance of, ‘Dogs?’

There were many of them – more than she could count. All of them dashed across the lawn or sniffed at the grass tracing Eris’s scent.

‘Come,’ he beckoned, curling his fingers.

As if compelled, Nesta stepped towards him. What was his game? Why bring her here?

‘I thought I was to sniff out Made items for you.’

‘Are you a hound?’

Nesta tried not to scowl.

An arm went around her shoulders, the touch too familiar from him. But he was warm. So delightfully warm that Nesta paused from throwing him off. Even as he tucked himself closer to her, Nesta did not fight him off.

‘Your shoes. Are they comfortable? You can be barefoot.’

Nesta felt as though she’d missed a step upon the stairs or that a conversation had happened without her knowledge as they walked through the long, central corridor of his home towards a room near the back of the house.

‘Are we going to your father’s vault?’

‘No. My father would never let me near it, much less you.’

‘Then why am I here, Eris?’

He pushed open a set of doors that led to a ballroom. It wasn’t as large as the one in the Hewn City; it was more suited to the sorts of balls that they had once hosted when her parents were wealthy where daughters were offered up like meat.

‘Our dance was interrupted.’

‘That was months ago,’ she said, dumbfounded.

The floor had been polished well enough to see part of her reflection and a great, glass chandelier hung in the centre of the ceiling. The waning evening sun streamed through the tall windows that lined one wall, catching on the dangling prisms, coating the room in scattered light.

‘I have not stopped thinking of that night,’ he admitted, voice cautious. ‘It was the first time I ever saw you smile.’

Nesta could not muster a response. It was likely the last time she had smiled without restraint, lost in the music and led by Eris.

‘I ask for a single dance,’ he said. ‘That’s all. Then I can return you.’

‘What’s the trick?’

‘No trick,’ Eris replied. ‘One dance.’

‘You made up a story to the Night Court, wrote to them for weeks, and offered all manner of incentives for my assistance. You lied and lied for a single dance.’

Eris didn’t have the decency to look at least slightly embarrassed. No, if anything, he seemed proud of the lies he’d spun. It would keep the Night Court wondering about what Beron could possibly have in his troves.

‘In fairness, it is difficult to find a good dance partner.’

The male had to be possessed. Normal males did not go to such lengths for a dance. And Nesta should have been repulsed by his schemes, but instead she found it oddly flattering that they were the lengths he’d go to for a single dance.

‘There is no music,’ she said, raising her chin indignantly.

Eris swept his hand outwards. A spiralling flame followed its path then the hairs on her arm stood on end. Sweeping notes of beautiful music filtered through the room as if the instruments were being played just beyond the doors.

‘You have music and a dance partner. I shall ask again: are your shoes comfortable to dance in?’

To match Eris, Nesta removed her shoes too and she suddenly felt so much smaller than him. His hand slid into hers, a second going to her waist as she settled a hand upon his shoulder. They moved to the music with little thought, their bodies reacting to each other intuitively. There was no awkward fumbling, no mistimed steps. They flowed together as easily as twin flames.

It was easy. Nesta did not need to think. Did not need to prepare a defence or hold a shield to protect herself. Eris was silent, leading her through song after song as their bodies moved across the floor, a muted, closed-lipped smile upon his pale face. When he lifted her, Nesta knew he’d hold her safely. On each spin, he was careful and restrained until they moved back into hold. And when their steps slowed, and her hand slipped down his back, and his moved lower, Nesta didn’t fight it.

A reasonable part of her warned her off of this. No good would come of dancing with Eris. They shouldn’t press their bodies so close. She never should have agreed to be alone with him in his court. But how could it be wrong when every part of her ached for him?

Their feet remained still as Nesta tilted her head up. Eris’ lips were a balm that soothed, but she didn’t want softness. She wanted desire. Wanted to be the match that set them both on fire.

Their kissing grew frantic. The fingers that grappled with his clothing were desperate. Eris took a knife to her bodice, carving it open with a sudden slash so her dress pooled around her on the floor.

The press of his lips was urgent and all-consuming like a fire that would never be sated. Nesta let herself be burnt by it. Let the flames of desire engulf her. The hands on her body were soft, reverent. Every pound of her heart was answered by his own. Eris kissed the new expanse of bare skin, treasuring each inch exposed to him.

His waistcoat fell to the floor then his shirt soon followed. The sunset bathed him in golden light. He was so warm and beautiful that Nesta stopped their kissing to press herself against him. She wanted to feel him. His body was rakish, not the well-built muscles of her mate, but more comfortable - softer and easier to fold herself into. Eris kept his hands covering her shoulder blades; a thumb tracing back and forth over the skin.

This momentary pause in their lust gave Nesta a moment to gather herself. What was she doing? Another attempt at self-sabotage? Nesta had a mate waiting for her in the Night Court. A mate who loved her. A mate who she hadn’t touched since he’d been under the Crown’s thrall. A mate who she couldn’t think of without imagining his hands around her neck squeezing the life from her.

How exquisite it was that Nesta could take something good and let her rotten core ruin it. Only she could find a mate and instead of the rare, unending love it offered, want to see it spoiled to give her a reason to run.

‘Nesta?’

‘I shouldn’t do this.’

But she made no move to pull away from the wicked heir of the Autumn Court. Her face remained tucked into the crook of Eris’ neck. It felt safer to stay there. Her soul was as broken as his.

His hand forced her head to raise so that Nesta could see her reflection in his eyes.

‘I will be burned by you,’ she whispered.

Eris pressed his lips to her forehead and inhaled. ‘Then let the flames consume the both of us.’

Her hand slipped down his body to the hardening length within his trousers. She pressed her palm to it, rubbing once, twice, until a hiss of air escaped from between Eris’ pursed lips. He tipped forwards, lips coming to her forehead.

‘I truly only wanted a dance.’

But Nesta was too far gone to reel herself back in.

They went to the ground together, his body covering hers as the music still played from a distant room. The last remnants of their clothing – her chemise and his undergarments – were discarded hurriedly until there was only skin between them. Eris kissed his way down her body, stopping between her legs.

‘If I told you that I’ve dreamed of this, would you believe me?’

Nesta pushed his head downwards. Her head rocked back as his tongue traced up her core.

This was what she did. Mindless sex to make herself forget. A deep-rooted need to sabotage herself. The Night Court was her home. Her mate was there. The mate that hadn’t come for her in the Blood Rite. The mate that had been so easily swayed by the Crown. A mate who’d have killed her.

She spread her legs wide, damning the consequences. Eris gripped her thighs, his fingers digging deep into the flesh as he licked a circle around her clit. Nesta got lost in it. Her eyes closed as Eris pushed his fingers into her sex. His techniques alternated based on the different moans that he elicited from her.

Breathless and flushed, Nesta curled into herself on one side upon their abandoned clothes. Eris’ steps faded as he departed. That was familiar to Nesta, to be used and discarded. Even her own mate couldn’t be bothered to spend a night beside her once he’d got what he wanted. She waited for shame to crawl up her throat from what she’d done yet none came.

Surprising her, light steps sounded upon the ballroom floor. Nesta braced herself for a servant who’d tell her to leave.

A full skin of water was settled by her head then a blanket tucked around her bare body. Eris knelt near her, still as bare as the day he came into the world. He flattened her disarrayed hair gently, face giving nothing away.

‘You are a very good dancer.’

‘I can say the same,’ she said, sitting up with the blanket pressed to her body. Nesta uncorked the skin of water and drank deeply, aware of Eris’ amber gaze on her scorched cheeks.

‘Call me greedy for not waiting until the Winter Solstice for another dance,’ he said.

Nesta could not muster a reply. The solstice felt so far away. When she reflected on the last one, dancing with Eris had been the highlight because she’d felt like herself again after so long. They told stories of his cruelty and schemes so what did it say of Nesta if her only joy was found in his arms?

‘I am not the villain you believe I am,’ he stated, as if he’d heard her thoughts. For once, he looked innocent as if a mask had been stripped away. A young male was beneath it, soft-eyed and curious as he waited for her reaction.

‘You do yourself no favours.’

‘And they do? Have you never wondered why Illyrian females still have their wings clipped? Or why Morrigan is the only dreamer in a city of nightmares?’ Eris laughed callously, the mask slipping back on. ‘I told you not to believe the lies they say about me. Perhaps I’d have been better off warning you about the lies they spin about themselves. Could the most powerful high lord in history really not enforce an anti-clipping law – or perhaps he values an army over the lives of females.’

Nesta forced down her emotions. She couldn’t say it was anger, because when she looked to Emerie’s ruined wings, she had wondered similar. Why weren’t Illyrian females offered a safe place in Velaris to heal and grow like Gwyn was?

‘You showed your heart in the Dawn Court – and it was enough to make my father pay attention, Nesta. You are wasted in the Night Court.’

‘Enough talking,’ she said, unwilling to face the truths she’d been running from. Too often those same questions had bubbled on her tongue. Once or twice Nesta had pressed Cassian on it and instead of being met with a calm discussion, he flew to the defensive and claimed she didn’t understand ruling or life in Illyria. ‘I didn’t come here to talk.’

‘Why did you come here?’ Eris smirked from the side of his mouth. ‘You can’t have believed I truly would take you to my father’s vaults?’

‘A release,’ she admitted. ‘A release from that court. I hate to be there. I cannot breathe when I’m there.’

The words rushed out of her before she could take them back and bury them.

‘Then let me be your release, Nesta.’ Eris kissed against the column of her neck. ‘How would you like it?’

His lips were tender making pleasure skitter over her skin.

‘Soft,’ she declared, to see if he could. See if he could resist the urge to pound in a frenzy until his own release took him. ‘Slow.’

Nesta had never been with a male who could put her needs first, who could put aside his own wants.

He lay her back down with the thick blanket beneath her to soften the floor then his body covered hers. It wasn’t suffocating, wasn’t heavy and imprisoning.

‘You are so beautiful,’ he murmured. ‘When you are in the room, I can see no other. You are the flame that guides me.’

She opened her legs to fit him better between her thighs. ‘You hardly know me.’

‘I want to,’ he said, a hand gripping hers and pressing it above her head. ‘I dreamt of ways to meet with you. Not for this. Just to look upon you. To speak with you. To hear you.’

It couldn’t be wrong when her body was begging for him. The slick heat between her thighs made Nesta squirm upwards to feel his length. It made Eris press his sharp teeth into his lip.

‘Slow, you said.’

‘Slow,’ she agreed, but for every moment that Eris lay upon her, it was a moment that she’d have to explain away to the Night Court. The longer she was away, the more implausible her reason.

Eris took his length and stroked it between her folds.

‘Inside,’ breathed Nesta.

Their lips met in an urgent press and Nesta forced her tongue into his mouth. If she was going to burn, she wanted to be nothing but ashes. Let it consume all of her.

When Eris finally pushed the crown of his cock inside, she moaned into his mouth. It had been a long time since she’d been with a male who didn’t stretch her and sting on his entry – and she’d forgotten how pleasurable that first thrust could be instead of one that made her grit her teeth and wince through the pain. He was a careful lover with hands that canvassed her body and lips that only left hers to ask over her wellbeing. When he moved in her, Eris never hurried. Every thrust was slow and deep enough to have her body rising from the floor to press closer to him.

At the increase in his breathing, Nesta wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing him in close. With a final thrust, Eris spilled himself inside of her.

They lay together, bodies tangles and soaked with sweat. The last light of the evening was fading, leaving a bruised sky in its wake.

She waited for Eris to run. To laugh at her for being so foolish. To mock her that she’d fallen for his trap.

It didn’t come.

Eris remained holding her tightly, kissing her face from time to time.

‘I can take you back,’ he murmured. His nose nuzzled against her neck.

‘You ripped my dress. I can hardly return naked.’

‘It was a very pretty dress too. I apologise,’ he said.

‘What am I to wear?’

Nesta was led upstairs to a tidy bedroom with little in the way of personal artefacts. In the large wardrobe, Eris held up a few dresses to examine the cloth against her complexion.

‘Your lovers’ dresses?’

A brief frown flashed upon his face. ‘My mother’s. She used to come here. They’re plain gowns, but should fit well enough to return you.’

Plain was an understatement. They were well-made from expensive fabrics with simple patterns that suited Nesta. The colours were those of the Autumn Court; rich golds overlayed with burnt orange and umber. Nesta had never even looked at such a colour, much less wear it.

‘You will need to wash,’ Eris reminded her. ‘Illyrians have noses like smokehounds when it comes to arousal.’

He led her to another room, a silent figure walking a few paces ahead. She wondered if he regretted it. Nesta couldn’t say that she did. The inevitable regret hadn’t come. Was unlikely to. There was nothing for her to regret. She had an immortal life ahead of her with a male who Nesta wasn’t sure truly liked her company. There was still so much of life that she hadn’t experienced – wouldn’t now.

This bedroom was neat in a way – the curtains tied back from windows, the surfaces clean – but it was littered with piles of books and stacks of letters that gave it a chaotic sense of disarray. A large map of Prythian had been pinned on the wall with notes written around markings on it.

‘Take as much time as you need,’ he said, opening another door that led to a bathroom.

For a while, Nesta stood stunned in the luxurious bathroom, not quite sure which Eris would greet her when she exited. He had seemed almost shy. She washed quickly, well aware of the darkness that had encroached. The dress, which she had been fearing to wear, fit like a glove. It brought a lightness back to her silvery eyes. She’d lost a couple of hair pins so abandoned her coronet in favour of leaving it down, the ghost of the braids leaving her hair in waves. She pinned back the strands from her temples to hide her ears.

‘This is an exquisite sort of torture,’ Eris mused as she exited the bathroom. ‘If I touch you again then my scent will be upon your skin. Then again, maybe art is there to be worshipped with the eyes rather than hands.’

With that, he entered the bathroom to wash her from his skin while Nesta stood bereft in the centre of the room.

Eris’ home reminded her of her life back in the mortal lands. It felt so familiar. She ran a finger across the top of a leather-bound book; a compendium of mosses across Prythian. She wrinkled her nose at it. Eris, it seemed, was full of surprises.

They waited until his hair had dried, sat by the silent fire in his rooms while they exchanged hesitant conversation. Nesta was meeting a different male. A quieter one who shared parts of himself with nervous reluctance. They spoke of the books he’d gathered and the map upon the wall, each minute had him shedding another layer of skin until she could see the person he was beneath. There was less cocky arrogance or cold calculation. Instead, Eris was clever and sensitive, listening to her few remarks about the similarity of his home to her old one with attentiveness.

‘We should go,’ he said, holding out a hand.

Hand in hand, he led the way back through the grounds of the manor – after warning the dogs away with their muddy paws – then winnowed back to the Hewn City. The Night Court’s leaders awaited them with nervous expressions. Cassian practically flew from his chair to scan her from head to toe.

‘Why is she in different clothes?’ Feyre demanded.

When Eris released his grip from her hand, she felt hollow.

He bared his palms to them, an irritating smirk on his lips. For a moment, her heart plummeted, believing it all to be another act to ruin her. She’d helped to ruin herself. Then, Eris said, ‘It turns out my father has more defences than I first thought. I am not such a bastard that I’d return Nesta to you covered in Middengarm wyrm innards.’

They looked to Nesta in confirmation. ‘I could not breathe without retching.’

‘I trust it was worth Nesta’s time,’ said Rhysand, violet eyes dancing between the pair of them.

Before Eris could speak, Nesta cut in. ‘I sensed something, but there was not enough time to trace it. I will need to return.’

Something sparked in Eris’ eyes. ‘I will collect Nesta in a couple of days. Who knows? Maybe she’ll take a liking to the Autumn Court.’ He gave a short, wicked laugh. ‘She wouldn’t even need to officially defect, since she isn’t aligned to any court.’

Cassian pressed a hand to her shoulder. ‘Nesta will join your court over my dead body.’

‘Do not tempt me,’ he replied. ‘Two days. Farewell.’

#neris

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the-fiction-witch · 4 months ago

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Mr Crown P4

Media - Morbius Character - Lucien Crown Couple - Lucien Milo X OC Reader - (OC) Anastasia Morton (Assistant) Rating - 18 + Smut - feeling up / ceo & Employee / fingering / forced orgasm / public sex / public fingering / public orgasm / pantiless Word Count - 3092

Lucien shifted in his seat, trying to focus on his food, but his mind was still on her. He couldn't help but sneak glances at her, his eyes tracing over her form, imagining her adorned in the jewels he was going to win.They ate in relative silence for a few moments, Lucien trying to maintain his composure while his mind still reeled from her promise. He stole glances at her, trying to stay casual, but the desire to touch her, to just pull her onto his lap and claim her, was growing harder to restrain. As they finished their meal, Lucien pushed aside his empty plate and leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on her.

Once dinner was collected up the auction began, Anastasia took the pen to see who got closet in their guessing game,

Lucien's hands cam one on the back of her chair to wrap around her the other rested comfortably on her thigh, his fingers tracing soft circles on her skin as they watched the auction progress. He was only partially paying attention, his mind still on her and the promise she had made. Every so often, he would glance down at her, his gaze tracing over her features before returning to the action at the front of the room. He leaned closer to her, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "See anything else you like, darling?"

"Only one other thing" she cooed her hand coming down to squeeze his thigh

Lucien inhaled sharply as her hand squeezed his thigh, her touch sending a surge of heat through him. He chuckled softly, trying to keep outwardly cool and composed, even though her touch was driving him wild. He shifted closer, his lips against her ear again, his voice low and rough. "Only one, hm? And what might that be?"

"lot 101, the little ski lodge. I think it's cute not sure why someone's selling it"

Lucien chuckled at her choice, his hand subconsciously squeezing her thigh in response. "A ski lodge? Is my little assistant secretly a fan of winter sports?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement. He looked at the booklet, at the listing for Lot 101, the images of the cozy little ski lodge,

"no, I just like snow. It's cute log fires, hot tub, big fur-covered beds, it seems so warm and cosy' she chuckled not thinking for a moment he'd be taking her wanting it seriously

Lucien's smirk widened at her description. The more she spoke, the more he could picture it. Soft blankets, a roaring fireplace, a cosy bed covered in fur... and her, wrapped in nothing but the fur covering the bed. He could feel the desire stirring even more strongly within him. The thought of having her in that setting was too tempting to resist. He shifted closer, his hand still on her thigh, and leaned in to whisper in her ear "You really like the sound of that, darling? Maybe I should bid on it for you."

"Lucien. No." She said squeezing his thigh, "It's much too expensive and what are you going to do with it anyway?"

Lucien chuckled at her protest, his hand still resting on her thigh. He knew she'd object, of course, she was too practical, too sensible. "Don't 'Lucien no' me, darling. I'm a billionaire, remember? Price is no object." He paused for a moment, a smirk on his lips. "And as for what I'm going to do with it... I can think of a few ideas. All involving you, of course."

"Your going to buy a hundred thousand dollar ski lodge in Canada? Just because I think it looks cosy? It would stay empty most of the time anyway it's not worth it. Besides I'm more than happy with just the pretty jewels, even if you don't have to get me them either"

Lucien chuckled at her persistence. Of course, she would argue and insist there was no need to buy the cottage. She was always practical like that, even when he desperately wanted to buy her something extravagant. "Darling, you know I don't care about the practicality. It's not about the money, it's about the experience. The idea of having a romantic getaway spot, just for us. Somewhere where we can escape, just the two of us, in the midst of the cold snowy mountains. Doesn't that sound appealing?"

"it does... But neither of us even skis"

Lucien chuckled at her counter. His hand moved up her thigh, his touch becoming more intimate. "Darling, who said we'd be snowboarding? It's all about the ambiance, the setting. The skiing is irrelevant, the beauty of the mountains, the cosy, candlelit bedroom, the hot tub... the possibilities are endless."

"I'm not going to argue" she gave in,

Lucien smiled triumphantly, knowing he had won that battle. He knew she'd given in, even though she was probably only humouring him. But that didn't matter, the thought of having a private getaway with her was too enticing to pass up. He ran his hand up and down her thigh, his touch becoming more seductive. "Good. No more arguments then. I’ll have a cute little ski lodge, and I'll have my gorgeous assistant all to myself in her cute little jewels."

"Lot 75, set of ring, necklace, and bracelet from 1843. Donated by the fashion history museum. The reserve is at two thousand dollars" the heads of the gala explained "Do we have a bid?"

Lucien leaned forward, his hand still on her thigh. his gaze snapped up to the screen, his eyes narrowing in focus. He waited for the bidding to begin, his mind racing with thoughts of her wearing the jewels. He didn't wait long before raising his paddle. "Two thousand." Lucien's voice was firm, his paddle held high. The other bidders seemed to hesitate, some backing down at the sound of his voice. He didn't wait for a response, his gaze focused on the stage, his mind on the jewellery he knew she would look so perfect in.

a few small bids come through but no one really that interested "Lot 75, sold to Lucien Crown for three thousand four hundred dollars”

Lucien felt a surge of satisfaction as his bid was declared the winner. When the gavel fell, announcing his victory, he felt a rush of triumph. He turned to look at her, a sly smile on his face. "Looks like you'll be getting those jewels after all, darling."

"you didn't have to do that Lucien" she blushed

Lucien's smirk widened at her blushing. He loved seeing her flustered, the way she tried to remain composed even though he could see the effect he had on her. He ran his hand further up her thigh, his touch becoming more possessive. "I know I didn't have to, darling. But I wanted to. Besides, I know you'll look absolutely gorgeous wearing them."

"thank you Lucien" she smiled kissing his cheek as secretly as she could

Lucien's breath hitched as she kissed his cheek, the unexpected gesture sending a jolt of desire through him. He reached up to touch the spot where her lips had just been, his fingers lingering on the skin as if trying to capture the feeling of her kiss. "You're welcome, darling. Just promise me one thing."

"yes?"

Lucien leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. His hand moved up her thigh, his touch becoming more firm, more possessive. His gaze locked onto hers, his eyes dark with desire. "Promise me that you'll wear them tomorrow. And nothing else."

"I promise" She nodded before sipping her drink

Lucien felt a surge of desire at her promise, the thought of walking into his office tomorrow and seeing her wearing nothing but the jewels he had bought her was enough to drive him wild. He clenched his jaw, trying to maintain control, his eyes roaming over her form as she sipped her drink. "You know, you really know how to drive a man crazy, darling. The thought of seeing you in those jewels, my jewels, tomorrow... I might not be able to concentrate on work."

"When do you?" She teased him

Lucien chuckled, his hand tightening on her thigh in response to her playful tone. He leaned in closer, his lips near her ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine. "You cheeky little minx. You love teasing me, don't you? You know exactly how I react to you, you know how you drive me wild with desire."

she chuckled not confirming or denying it as she knew both would only tease him more, when attention turned once more to the auction as pictures came up of the ski lodge

The lodge was a wood, steel and glass modern style lodge in Canada, a large master suite with a fireplace, jet bath and walk-in shower, two smaller guest suites, a large kitchen dinner, an open plan living room with a large fireplace, a balcony over the mountains with a hot tub and sauna. All of it is impressive and beautiful

Lucien's eyes were drawn to the screen, his gaze fixed on the images of the ski lodge. His first thought was that it was perfect, the setting, the furnishings, the secluded location. It would be a private paradise, a perfect getaway for them.

He could already picture it in his mind, the two of them tucked away in the cozy cabin, the fireplace crackling, the hot tub steaming in the cold air. But then he remembered her practicality, her insistence that it was too expensive and impractical. He turned to her, his gaze watching her reaction as she looked at the screen. He could see the hint of desire in her eyes, the way she bit her lip as she took in the luxurious interior. He knew she wanted it, even though she would never admit it out loud. So he decided to play his hand, to try and convince her that it was worth the price.

"It's beautiful, isn't it, darling? Picture yourself there, sitting in front of the fire, the snow falling outside, the mountains in the background..."

"it is nice" Anastasia answered,

Lucien noticed her hesitation, the way she was trying to hold back her true feelings. He knew her too well, knew that she was fighting against her own desires. He couldn't resist teasing her, his hand gently squeezing her thigh.

"Just 'nice'?" he repeated, his voice laced with mock disappointment. "I thought you'd be a little more enthusiastic than that, darling. Isn't it picturesque? Romantic? Exactly the kind of place where two lovers could spend a passionate weekend?"

she let out a long sigh half to hide her excitement breaths at his hand moving higher and the other half at the fact he may actually do this and buy it. "... It would be a very cosy place, and I'm sure Christmas there would be picture perfect" she agreed "but it's alot of money, it's far away, we have alot of work with the business, it's far from... Your doctors and it would be dangerous if something happened which one ice and snow could very well happen" she reasoned with him "But, I'm your assistant. It's your money Mr Crown"

Lucien smirked as she tried to reason with him, listing all the practical reasons why buying the ski lodge would be a bad idea. He knew she was right, of course. It was a lot of money, it was far away, and they did have a lot of work to do. But he could also see the desire in her eyes, the way her breath hitched as he touched her thigh, and he knew he had her almost convinced. "You make valid points, darling," he said, feigning concern. "But..." He paused for a moment, his gaze on the screen, looking at the images of the cozy cabin in the woods. He could picture it so vividly, the two of them snuggled up in front of the fire, the snowflakes falling outside, the view of the mountains in the distance… He could feel the excitement building within him, his desire to have this place growing with every second. He turned back to her, his eyes glinting with determination. “It is worth it, a little place just for you and me, and I would pay so, so much to get you alone somewhere so perfect. Our own little romantic paradise.”

"it's your money," she said

Lucien chuckled at her words, his hand giving her thigh a possessive squeeze. He knew she was humouring him, indulging his impulsive decision to buy the lodge. He didn't care, though. "Yes, it is my money," he agreed with a sly grin. "And I'll spend it however I damn well please. And if that means buying a cosy little ski lodge for my gorgeous assistant and myself, then so be it." his hand slipping up under her sill dress touching her even higher than the slit in her dress he got a wicked idea resting his hand there as the bidding began

"Shall we start the bidding at 130." Immediately bids came in of course from Lucien himself but each time the price went up his hand slid a little inch higher under her silk dress

Lucien chuckled huskily, his hand still moving higher up her thigh, his touch becoming more intimate as the bidding started on the lodge. With each raise of the other bids, Lucien's hand inched higher up her thigh, his touch becoming more possessive, more intimate. He could feel her body responding to his touch - the way she tensed, the way she took a sharp breath, the way her eyes fluttered shut for a moment before she quickly composed herself. He knew he was pushing the boundaries of propriety, and he didn't care. His hand stroked her thigh as he reached it rubbing his thumb hard against her hip bone, his fingers trailing across her searching for the strap of her panties but he didn't find it for a moment he was puzzled before her reactions became so obvious to him, he couldn't feel panties because she wasn't wearing any in that dress.

Lucien's eyes widened when he realized that she wasn't wearing any panties under her dress. The revelation sent a jolt of desire through him, his mind immediately imagining what else she was wearing under the silk fabric. He could feel her body shiver under his touch, her hips moving just slightly as he searched for the strap of her panties, only to find that there wasn't one. He let out a low, strangled moan, his hand frozen for a moment as he let the revelation sink in.

As the bidding began to slow, it seemed like Lucien was going to win the lodge. The other bidders began to drop out, the number on screen getting higher and higher. Lucien's mind was racing, his thoughts focused on one thing - Anastasia.

He could feel her body quivering under his touch, responding to the sensation of his hand under her dress. He could see her biting her lip, trying to maintain her composure in front of everyone. And he knew, in that moment, that he had to have her.

She coughed to cover a whimper as he moved his hand from her thigh to begin touching her mound, his smirk wide as he experienced the pleasure of a high adrenaline auction and that his assistant wasn't wearing anything under her dress, once he knew that of course he was going to take advantage, touching her enough to make her whimper "Lucien..." She gasps quietly

Lucien felt a thrill run through him as he heard her whimper, her breath catching in her throat as he touched her under her dress. He smiled slyly, his confidence growing as he felt her melt under his touch as he slid his fingers from her mound to her clit, "Shh, darling. Not so much arguing now, are you?" he whispered in her ear, his breath warm against her skin. He could feel her body responding to him, the way she pressed against his hand, the way she gasped his name. He moved his hand more deliberately and immediately found what made him smirk all the more as his fingers felt the softness of her skin and the wetness he caused there

"Lucien... Please.." she whimpers fighting a war with herself on if she should or shouldn't do this

Lucien chuckled huskily. He loved the way she whispered his name, the way she pleaded with him, her voice ragged with desire. "Please, what, darling? You have to use your words."

He moved his hand deeper, his touch becoming more deliberate, more insistent as he fingers circle her pussy and his thumb circling her sensitive clit and sending shivers through her body.

she gasped almost letting a moan slip out as her thighs shifted widening a little

Lucien felt her thighs widen at his touch, and he took it as an invitation to go further. He moved closer to her, his body pressing against hers as he continued to touch her intimately. "That's it, darling. Don't hold back. I want to hear you." He moved his fingers inside her in a slow, deliberate rhythm, his mouth close to her ear, his breath hot against her skin. He could feel her body responding to him, the way she squirmed against his hand, her breath coming in gasps and little whimpers that she tried to muffle. He loved the sounds she was making, the way she was giving in to the sensations he was arousing. "You're so sensitive, darling. So sensitive and so responsive." his touch became more insistent, more demanding.

she almost squealed and he knew it was only a matter of time, and as it turned out not long at all

"Sold!" The auctioneer called out

Just as he did Anastasia tensed up grabbing Lucien's suit sleeve as she clenched and moaned into his ear just as everyone applauded concealing her noise as she reached her orgasm having to hide it on her face,

"The lodge, sold to Lucien Crown for 678 thousand dollars"

Lucien was barely aware of the auctioneer's words, the cheers from the crowd, or the sound of the next item being announced. His focus was entirely on her, the way she tensed up and grabbed his suit sleeve, her body shuddering as she came undone under his touch. As the applause filled the room, Lucien let out a low, satisfied chuckle, his hand still under her dress, his touch gentle and possessive. "678 thousand dollars well spent," he whispered in her ear.

"yes sir ..." She gasped leaning her head on his shoulder as she gasps her skin positively glowing from her orgasm,

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fallingintheforest · 1 month ago

Text

One of my favourite hc's I like to world-build is the idea that Lucien belongs to a super exclusive scholarly society.

It sounds dorky, but stay with me on this. This society holds access to powerful, protected texts long thought to be lost or forgotten. But the catch with this is that members are not able to use that knowledge for personal gain

There is no straight forward way to join. Instead, the group—or perhaps, the magic that binds the knowledge and rules within the society itself—chooses its members. Anyone can be selected—whether they are a high fae or lesser—because the magic doesn’t care about status; it cares about the worthiness of the individual to protect texts and their ability to contribute to the base of knowledge.

I imagine that Lucien was chosen by the magic when he was fairly young. I think that Lucien likely never told anyone about this, except perhaps Jesminda.

There is a way for Fae outside of the society to gain access to the protected texts, and that's through a bargain. The bargain that is required comes at a high price. Its never more than what a fae is able to offer but it's enough that most do not attempt it for fear of the cost required. Even more, the scholar summoned by the bargain can still choose to deny whether to provide the information if they find the seeker unworthy.

Now imagine, the HL's are in dire straits and decide to bargain with the scholars for information from a powerful text, then boom Lucien shows up like, whats good y'all??

#the way Beron would be spitting fire finding out Lucien hid that #lucien vanserra #acotar #Listen I just need more evidence of the fox of prythian in action #you cant tell me that that man doesn't love academia #oooh and also the identity of the scholars can't be revealed outside of the “information exchange”#i.e. someone that bargained for information can't then go blab about the identity of the scholar that showed up afterward #Also hc that Amarantha tried to bargain for info and Lucien denied her early on lol just to add more to why she fricken loathed Lucien

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writingsbychlo · 1 year ago

Note

What would you do if you were Azs mate and found out he gave you Elains necklace?

“That’s such a pretty necklace, where did you get it?” Feyre mused, her brows raising as she peered over the rim of her wine glass at you. It went a little quite in the room, your cheeks heating as the High Lady’s fingers brushed your skin where the small pendant sat.

Despite it having been almost two years since you’d met her know, far more since you’d found your mate in her family, it still surprised you sometimes to find yourself holding her attention.

“It is pretty!” Mor fawned, coming a little closer to admire it. “I must know the jeweller, I could spend a fortune on pieces like this!”

“You’ll have to ask Azriel, he gave it to me years ago.” You smiled at the memory, you’d barely been on three dates with him, before the bond had even clicked, and he’d gifted it to you to match your dress before taking you to dinner. You’d almost forgotten about it, hidden at the bottom of your jewellery box. Glancing around the room, pride shone within you toward your mate as everyone admired it. Everyone but one. Elain. A frown sat in her lips, brows pulled taut, and she seemed so deeply conflicted that a war was playing out on those delicate features. “Elain? Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She whispered, head snapping up, but her lips pressed together more tightly than usual, a frown tugging at the corners.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She had less conviction this time, her voice weaker, and a ripple crossed over her features like she was cursing herself for it. The weight of everyone’s stare on her, now, seemed to make her snap. “It’s just— Azriel gave me that necklace, nearly half a decade ago.”

“He gave you one too?” You’d known about their dalliance, it had been a joke long ago that both you and Lucien had rolled your eyes good-naturedly at, but now it was confusing.

“No… he gave me that one.” She sighed, finally meeting your gaze, looking somewhere between scared and sorrowful. “He gave it to me on Solstice evening, and I gave it back to him the next day.”

You fingered the charm around your neck, lump swelling in your throat. “Do you… want it back?”

“Back? Gods, no, it’s yours! I didn’t—” Her eyes wondered further, that fear leaking into her voice now as she moved across the room to clasp your hands. “I don’t want that! It’s just, it reminded me of why I gave it up. I saw you. When he gave me that necklace it felt stolen. When I wore it I felt wrong, and when I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw your face. I saw you in my visions before I ever met you, and I knew I wasn’t the one for Azriel! It’s just… I’m so happy with Lucien now, I couldn’t be any happier, but thinking back on old heartbreaks hurts. It killed me to give him up before I knew Lucien was who would make me happy, when I thought that would be Az. Looking at the necklace just makes me sad, and I never imagined he’d give it to you. Never. I thought he’d get rid of it.”

You clutched her hands tightly, willing her to see your empathy and not your anger, an emotion that wasn’t aimed at her. “I’m sorry, Elain. I didn’t realise it would hurt you, I had no idea.”

Unclasping it from your neck, you held it out to Mor without another glance.

“It’s all yours, Mor. Use it to find the jeweller, and then trade it’s value for something pretty. Get new necklaces, matching ones for Elain and I. And a set of earrings for yourself, it should fetch a fine price, even years later.”

Nesta chuckled into her drink, and Feyre only laughed at the glee on Mor’s face as she securely tucked it inside her bra for safekeeping.

“You’re not mad?” Elain pressed, and you shook your head, smiling.

“Not at you.”

She only have a relived sigh, parting after a second to return to her seat, and allow the rest of girls night to run smoothly. Your fingers brushed your bare neck once, your eyes rolling, before letting it go for now, to enjoy your friends’ company.

And you did.

The night went on for hours more, until Cassian arrived to collect Nesta, slinging her over his shoulder and jumping violently when she smacked his ass with a cheer.

Rhys came next, helping a wobbling Feyre to her feet and bidding you all goodnight with a charming grin.

It was Mor who had winnowed you home, to outside the townhouse you shared with your mate, her forehead pressed to your own with a wicked smirk as she made you promise to give him hell.

Stumbling into the house, still a little tipsy, you made your way towards your bedroom, a shadow meeting you part way and wrapping eagerly around your wrist, tugging you excitedly to the bedroom.

When you arrived, Az was sitting in bed, surrounded by pillows, and marking his page as he put his book down. “Hello, my love. Did you have fun?”

“Hello, my mate.” His brows rose a little, and you kicked your heels off half-heartedly, leaving them by the door as you stepped in further. “I had a wonderful time.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He grinned, patting the space beside him in bed. “I missed you, though.”

“I missed you too.” Across to your messy dresser you walked on shaky steps, opening the lid of your large jewellery box and beginning to take off the earrings you still wore. Another gift from Azriel. In fact, the box was teeming with them, and you hummed. “Az, come look at this.”

He was in bed one moment, and by your side the next, peering through shadows over your shoulder. “Your jewellery box?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?” He mumbled, and you shrugged, feeling him press a kiss to your shoulder, his hands ghosting your waist, before you were wandering away.

“Keep looking.”

He chuckled, but obliged, and you took the time to step into your pyjamas as he did. “What is it that I’m looking for?”

“Any other regifted piece of jewellery from past lovers that you want to remove before I get caught short again.”

Your hands fell to your hips as his head snapped up. Tan skin drained of colour, all playfulness melting away from him. His gaze moved, to your bare neck, to the box in search, before back to your gaze. “Your necklace—”

“Elain’s necklace.” You muttered, and his throat bobbed, shadows swirling low to the ground like a puppy with its tail between its legs. “You’re such an asshole!”

“I’m sorry! You— I didn’t— I’m sorry!” His hands flexed by his sides, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes. He sent a desperate tug down the bond, floods of love and sorrow and shame, and you turned back to look at him.

“Oh, relax, I’m not that mad.” His shoulders sagged only a little, but he didn’t stop the onslaught of love he sent to you across that tether. There was a question nagging, though, through the slight hurt and embarrassment, and your voice was weak as you asked; “Is there any more in there, though?”

“No, baby. Gods, no.” That pain was reflected on his own eyes now, and you shrugged helplessly, hugging your arms to your chest.

“I liked that necklace. You’re such a jerk.”

“I know.” He whispered, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“I don’t want a new one! I just wish you’d… I don’t know, not let me leave the house in it! Or just gotten me a new necklace that day! I loved that memory, nobody had ever bought me jewellery before.” Azriel bought you plenty of gifts now, from every court and continent he travelled to, it was how that one had become so lost to time in the first place, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Can you forgive me?”

“Of course I forgive you, Az! You might be a dumbass but you’re mine and I love you. Of course, I forgive you.” He relaxed fully then, stalking across the room toward you with his arms out, ready to embrace.

Before he could reach you, you slammed a pillow into his chest, blocking his body from your own.

“You’re still sleeping on the couch tonight, though.”

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popfizzles · 5 months ago

Note

how much have you fleshed out the NPCs in your au?

I definitely have favorites 😅

Mac and Chip both have set personalities and some story to them! I gave Mac an entire family, you know what I mean! Chip has a gruff but gold personality, a job working at a sawmill, and hangs out with Mugman in passing. I also like Canteen Hughes being a very young, very bright character (very Tails from Sonic vibes in my brain).

Ginger and Buster, and Lucien have some vague ideas behind them. I never really fucked much with Isle 2 NPCs, but I liked the idea of Ginger being an ex of Mugman's, Buster being Beppi's apprentice, and Lucien knowing Boba (which is how Boba got his tutoring job).

Ludwig, Wolfgang, and Silverworth all have some story behind them too. I like Ludwig being an informant for a price, the guy who knows a guy; it makes me laugh to imagine Wolfgang as being very "calls women FEMALES" type of guy; and a semi-popular headcanon of Silverworth being some pompous fuck that gets his kicks picking on Cup and Mug.

I can go into some more miscellaneous specifics about these specific nine if you like!! :)

#Cuphead #Cuphead: Don't Deal With the Devil #Cuphead: DDWTD #CDDWTD #CDDWTD Mac #CDDWTD Chip #CDDWTD Canteen Hughes #CDDWTD Ginger #CDDWTD Buster #CDDWTD Lucien #CDDWTD Ludwig #CDDWTD Wolfgang #CDDWTD Silverworth #fizzles answers #anon #anonymous

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alina-dixon · 1 year ago

Text

A Fable

Pairing: Morpheus x Male reader

Warnings: violence, blood, captivity, fluff.

Requested: Yes / No

Part 1

A/N: The reader is the Hero from Fable 2! I really love the game Fable 2! So I thought why not? Have fun reading!☺️❤️

___

It's a cold winter day in Bowerstone, you and your Sister Rose are standing at a fireplace. You and Rose are homeless. You are only nine years old and your sister is fifteen. You were just trying to get warm, when suddenly something fell on your head and when you touched it you immediately knew it was bird poop! Your eyes went wide and tried to get rid of it while making a disgusted sound.

Rose looked weirdly at you while having her arms around her body to stay warm. “What was that? Oh! Yuck.” she said while taking a step back. When you stopped she put her arms back around her and so do you with yourself. “Well… That’s lucky. Like finding a four-leave clover. Although I think I'd prefer the clover.” her voice sounded a little awkward when saying that.

Then she looked at the castle amazed that stood in the center of Brightwood. “Look. little Sparrow…Castle Fairfax looks so nice in the snow. Imagine the grand dining hall. I bet Lord Lucien’s having roasted duck at this time of the year.” She ranted while you just kept quiet while putting your hands over the fireplace and listened to her ranting.

She put her hands on her hips. “But he must be really lonely since his wife and his little girl died. In that big castle, all by himself… If only we could live there.” She looked at the castle with a sad expression.

Suddenly there was the sound of loud cheering heard from behind the houses. “What is going on over there? Come with me, little brother.” she said while running in the direction of where the sound came from. So before you could say anything you followed her, but you were a little behind.

When you turned into the alleyway and went farther down you saw a man talking to your Sister, You saw him talking to her a few times back then. “Hello there, young Rose. You look hungry. Have you reconsidered my offer?” he said oddly nice but also very weird. You of course do know what he's talking about.

You approached them slowly. Rose had a disgusted and angry look on her face. “We’ll never be that hungry. The answer is NO!” That angered the guy. “You’ll be back. And I'll be waiting for Ya.” he said with an angered tone, then walked away.

Rose sighed and looked at you. “Come on, little Sparrow. Let's see what's going on.” she said as we both ran again to where the sound came from. Rose sighed again. “That filthy creep… I hate him.” she spat.

You finally arrived only to see a crowd around a taider. “Oh… It's just a trader. I can't see anything through the crowd.” She was clearly disappointed.

“A-ladies and a-gentlemen… I have traveled the land accumulating wondrous and mysterious objects! Which I now offer to you for the modest price of five gold coins!” he said proudly.

“Consider this. This is truly a magical mirror. For as long as you look into it, it will make you beautiful!” he said lowly. “I'll take it!” a random guy screamed from the crowd. “Very wise! Now just remember: the magic only works if you look at it in complete darkness.” He had a smug look on his face.

The trader turned to something that looked like a music box, but it was completely made of metal. “Ah, now this is truly a marvel.” he said smiling at it. “This small, unassuming box is actually a device created by the ancients. As was used by the old rulers of the kingdom themselves! Turn the handle three times, and you shall be granted a single wish!”

Rose looked unamused at this and scoffed. “There’s no such thing as magic!” she said and she thought that nobody heard it because they were busy watching the trader, but hooded women turned towards us. When you saw her eyes, you noticed that she was probably blind.

“We live in grim times indeed, if the young doesn't believe in magic anymore. Most children your age believe eagerly.” she said in a calming voice. Rose looked at her weirdly but you thought that she was right, only because you believed in it yourself. “Look, I can see your eyes are bad, but I'm telling you, that magic box is rubbish.” while she said that the crowd beside us was getting smaller and smaller until everyone was gone.

“That's what the seller thinks. He has no idea what he stumbled upon. But you have an inkling, have you? Some part of you wants to believe it's magic.” Her voice still calm as before, she turned around already walking away from us.

Rose looked looked at he women surprised. “What? You… you really think it could be?” she asked hesitantly. The woman stopped but only turned her head to the side. “For five gold coins, you could have your own answer.” Rose looks dumbfounded at her answer. “For five gold coins, we could eat for a weak.” Rose frowned.

The women started walking away. “Listen to me, Rose. At the end of the week you and Y/N would be no closer to your dream- no closer to the inside of that beautiful castle.” she started. ‘She, is right actually…’ is all what you thought to yourself.

Rose turned to face you frowning slightly. “What if it is real? I bet we could get five gold coins… and maybe this could be a way out of here, after all. What is there to lose, little sparrow?” she sounded confident. I smiled at her. “Probably nothing!” Rose laughed then nodded. “All right! Come on, there must be someone around here who will pay us to… do something.” with that we went around town to earn some money.

After about half an hour we finally had our five coins to buy the music box! Rose and I went back to the trader. The Trader Murgo looked at you smiling. “Hello children.” he said happily. Rose and I smiled back at him. “Hello, we’ve come to buy the music box.” she started still smiling.

I walked towards the man held my hand in front of him showing him the five coins. “Very wise, little ones! Go ahead and turn the handle- but mind you go somewhere quiet, like.” he smiled at the both of you. “Okay thank you! Bye mister!” you waved at him. “Let's go make our wish, little Sparrow!” she said excitedly, as you both started walking back to your little stay.

You put the music box onto a box wooden box that was around half of your height. “Alright turn the handle!” Rose was a nervous as you started to turn the handle. “I wish… I wish…” After she said her wish the box opened and started glowing in a bright golden color. A beautiful sound was playing but then the music box started rotating and the music got faster, the golden color was turning red and then all of a sudden, the music box lighted up in a bright golden color and disappeared right in front of our eyes!

You and Rose we're shocked. “But… where did it go? Why are we still here? Five gold pieces… Let's just go to bed.” she sounded sad and disappointed. You yourself were sad at this, but still you followed her. “Oh. I was so sure this was it. I had this feeling like… that we weren't going to be stuck in Old Town anymore! Why didn't the box take us with it?” she still sounded sad but tried to push it aside. “Come on, Sparrow, go to bed.” so you both lay down to end the day. “Good night! Love you big Sis!” you said turning to your side. “Good night. I love you too, little Sparrow.” and with that, you both went to sleep. You only hoped that tomorrow would be a better day, and Rose won't be sad anymore.

It was still nighttime when Rose woke up to the sound of footsteps, scared that it could be a thief or something like that. She carefully opened her eyes and stood up, and when she saw who it was she was relieved, I was only the guard that they helped to earn some money for the now gone music box. “What do you want?” asked Rose the guard curiously.

The guard cleared his throat. “I work for Lord Lucien, miss. And would very much like to see you in his castle. I've been sent to collect you.” With that, he walked away, and Rose walked up to your sleeping form. “It did work! Our wish came true! Come on little Sparrow, wake up.” So you opened your eyes and stood up still a little tired. “What's happening, Sis?” you asked her with a yawn and rubbed your eyes.

Rose smiled brightly at you. “Everything is fine. We're going to Lord Lucien’s castle! Now come we have to go little Sparrow!” she said as she ran in the direction of where the guard went to wait for us. When I ran after her I saw her standing with a few guards waiting for me.

“Let's go to the castle!.” Rose said happily, and so we were guided to Castle Fairfax. “What do you think does Lord Lucien wants from us?” I asked her confused. “I don't know, but we will find out shortly, Little Sparrow.” she said looking to at the big doors of the Castle.

The door was open and an old-looking Butler stood there waiting. “Evening. Jeeves. Here are the children Lord Lucien asked for.” he said proudly. The Butler smiled at us. “Excellent!” was all that he said to the guard, then turned back to us. “Hello, young masters.” This confused you but you ignored it. “Hello, sir.” both you and Rose answered politely.

His smile tightened and turned around. “If you'd follow me please.” he said and started to lead us into the castle. We look up at this castle every day and think how nice it is. We both do. But inside it's even more beautiful than I imagined.” Rose told him dreamily. Jeeves chuckled. “It's quite wonderful, isn't it?” it was more of a statement than a question.

Then we saw a man walking past us. “Ah, hello. Master Garth.” Jeeves greeted still walking while the other male said nothing. “Huh, Man of few words.” He led us further into the castle. “Where is the grand dining hall?” Rose suddenly asked curiously. “Oh, in the north wing. Lord Lucien hadn't been there since… Since the tragic deaths of Lady Fairfax and little Amelia.” he told us as we claimed some stairs and further down the hall. “Oh, I heard. That was so awful.” Rose’s tone was sad. Jeeves nodded. “Yes, he misses them terribly.” Rose raised a brow. “So where does he eat?” Jeeves looked at her. “Actually, he takes most of his meals in his study. He's in there working all hours, doing research...” You frowned. “What does he research?” you asked him curiously. “History, mostly. Lord Lucien is quite keen on antiquities of all sorts, but he is chiefly interested in things relating to the Old Kingdom.” Rose nodded understanding. “There was a Trader in Old Town who said his stuff was from the Old Kingdom.” Jeeves nodded. “Yes… yes, I believe Lord Lucien… heard about that.” he told us hesitantly. We were standing in front of some big doors now. “We bought a piece of it and we made a wish and now we're here!” She smiled brightly.

Jeeves smiled again. “That's wonderful. Now, when you meet Lord Lucien., you must show respect at all times. Address him as “my lord.” Speak only when spoken to.” he told us, You and Rose nodded. “Yes sir.” she awnsered shortly. Jeeves stood in front of us “And do not mention Lady Fairfax or Amilia.” he said a little more sternly. Jeeves opened the door to the study. “Here we are. Lord Lucien? The children are here.” Jeeves informed as me and Rose walked in and the door closed right behind us. ‘I don't like this’ is all I thought as I tried to push a weird feeling away.

Lord Lucien turned towards us. “Children. It's come to my attention that you have some sort of magic box. May I see it?” he asked looking at us curiously. “It vanished m’lord. We were winding it up, and we made a wish, and then it started to glow and it disappeared.” she said sadly. “After you used it?” is all he asked. Rose nodded. “Yes, m’lord. The man who sold it to us said it was magic.” Lord Lucien looked a little interested.

“The box is of no interest to me, what's remarkable is that you were able to use it. What was your wish?” he then asked. Rose gasps a little scared. “Well, speak up… what did you wish for?” he asked nicely. Then she looked up at him confidently. “To live in a castle… like this one.” Lucien smiled. “Perhaps that could be arranged. I working to rebuild… well, I'm working on something wonderful, for which I need individuals with particular talents. Let us find out if you have them. Would you kindly stand in the circle, please?” Rose looked at him nervously “Erm…” Lucien Looked at her reassuringly. “I promise, it won't hurt you.” This made my weird feeling grow but Rose still obliged and stepped inside the circle, while you still stood at your spot behind Lord Lucien. Behind the circle were also very big colored windows.

Suddenly the circle started to glow in a bright blue. “What's that?” asked scared. “Nothing to worry about.” Lucien answered. You looked a little scared at the circle. Lord Lucien looked at me with reassuring eyes. “Go on. Stand in the circle.” Then Rose looked at you. “It's all right, little Sparrow. Don't be afraid. It doesn't hurt.” Her tone was soft. So you made a quick nod and stepped into the circle.

When you stepped inside there was some sort of a blue glowing wall. You were trapped. Lord Lucien stood in front of you, his face was full of shock and relief. “It's true. Your blood… you are Heroes.” This of course shocked you and Rose. “Heroes? You mean like in the old stories?” she asked amazed. Lord Lucien then tried to touch the barrier and it sent some shocks to him. “Ah!” he screamed out pulling his hand away and holding it. When this happens the circle suddenly starts to glow bright red. “What are you?” he asked angrily as he walked to a table with many papers and a book on it.

He started panting. “Wait. There was, there was something here…” mumbling to himself. “M’lord, what happened? What's that light?” Rose asked seemingly scared. “Quiet! You're heroes… but you're not any of the three…” he would us while looking through the papers. “What's happening?” asked terrified as Lord Lucien suddenly pulled a gun out. You froze as he suddenly pointed it towards Rose. “This isn't what I wanted… but nothing must stand in my way.” he said darkly. Rose looked even more terrified now. “No, wait. Don't! Nooo!” she screamed in agony, but it was too late he pulled the trigger and she fell to the floor. Tears were now streaming out of your face as you realized what happened, You looked at your now dead sister but you still couldn't move, you were to terrified.

Lucien then pointed the gun towards you. “I can't allow you to live either. I'm sorry.” is all that he said. You pulled your arms in in front of you as you backed away towards the window. And then he shot you which made you crash out of the window onto many roofs before crashing into the street.

When you laid there on the street you barely moved Your fingers. You then heard footsteps and a voice. “Death is not your destiny today, little Sparrow… Y/N” You knew that voice… it was the blind woman from the market. Then you felt how you were picked up into her arms, then you blacked out cold.

Suddenly you woke up to a familiar face it was the woman she had a dog with her that licked your face. It was the dog that you and Rose rescued once. Then time went by fast you reached out for the comfort of the dog’s warm fur, ready to take your first steps in a new life.

Ten winters blanketed in Albion, ten summers filled the air with the sounds of insects and laughter. With time your pain turned to strength. Your grief became will. A will to change the world. And to avenge the death that haunted your every dream.

Now you are 19 year old. You got your revenge for your sister with the help of the other three heroes.

Hammer is one of the other three heroes. You and her were taking a walk with Theresa. “Today is very beautiful, it's not too warm and not too cold! So it's the perfect weather to take a little walk.” Hammer breathed out with a satisfied smile. “Mhm” You nodded in agreement.

“How about we go into town and eat something? My treat!” Hammer asked. “Seems like an nice idea.” Theresa agreed. “Yeah sounds good to me!” you cheered happily. “All right, let's go!” Hammer said while laughing at you, so does Theresa.

So when you were halfway there about to reach the town something felt off as you three talked to each other. Suddenly you noticed your surroundings started to glow. “What's happening?” Hammer asks confused with a little hint of worry. “I don't know!” you answered back. “I feel magic behind it, and it's not yours. It's not good either…” Theresa said as you all stopped. Then the wind started to get stronger, the glowing got brighter, and started to circle around you very fast. You put your arm over your eyes to see something but the sight was getting less by every second that passed.

You, Hammer, and Theresa started to panic. “Help me! Please!” you begged inside the glowing mist. Hammer with half tears in her eyes looked at you then at Theresa panicked. “You have to do something. What's happening to him!?” Hammer screamed. “I can't do anything. This is way against the skills I have.” She said trying to sound calm. “What-” Hammer was about to say something as the mist disappeared, and you with it. Hammer stood there wide eyed. “What happened? Where is he? Theresa where is he!?” She screamed as she fell to her knees. Theresa walked to her side putting a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. “He will be alright. He will find his way back home.” Hammer was in tears as she looked at her. “You think so?” she sniffled. Theresa nodded. “Let's go home for now.” Her voice was even calmer now. Hammer nodded because she knew that Theresa was right.

Far away in a mansion in America was a Man. Roderick Burgess, he and other people stood in a dungeon under the house. They were a cult and Roderick Burgess was the leader of them. They stood around a summoning circle. They spoke in Latin, then the circle started glowing.

Right next to them was Morpheus held captive. He saw what they were doing. He laid there motionless watching them. As they summoned something, or someone. Then a little explosion was seen above the summoning circle and a bright glowing was there but when it vanished, there was a boy lying on the floor unconscious, on his belt was a well made sword and on his back was a crossbow.

“Take his weapons! And his clothes!” ordered Burgess. One of the cultists stepped towards you and bowed down to grab your sword, and another one grabbed your crossbow, then two others came and started to undress you, which led to you opening your eyes. “Oh, you're awake. Let's talk about business then.” You only glared at Burgess but stayed silent, you were now fully naked. “My Name is Roderick Burgess and I want you to be my personal guard, and hear on every command I give you. If you accept, you will get your stuff back. But if you don't, we will put you in a cage and you will rot in there until you die or eventually give in and accept.” again you stayed silent and didn't respond. Burgess let's out a disappointed sigh, then he nodded at the others and walked away.

While you were put into the glass ball you saw a another male that was also naked, in the cage next to yours. He was tall, and skinny, had black hair and bright blue eyes that stared right into yours as you now laid there.

Out of nowhere, Burgess stepped right in front of your view. You looked at him but didn't dare to move a muscle. “I have that you will rethink about my offer. Even if you don't want to, in the end, you will starve and start to beg for it. I hope you're smarter than this.” then he left again.

When he and everyone left it was only you and the other caged male. You both starred at each other again, only that you didn't really look at him because you thought about Theresa and Hammer, and the fact that you miss them and only wanted to get out of here and back home. Your eyes started burning so closed your eyes and silently let the tears slip.

Morpheus watched you as the tears slipped out of your eyes, but after a short while they stopped, and then he noticed that you probably fell asleep, which was probably better that way, is all what Morpheus thought.

The next day you opened your eyes and sat up slowly. Right now you tried to stay calm so you closed your eyes again. And while sitting there you felt the other males eyes on you but you ignored it.

Then Burgess came in and walked in front of Morpheus's cage. Two other people sat in the back playing a game. Burgess held himself on the cage. “The woman who lives with me has gone and robbed me of my fortune. She’s also robbed you. She's taken your helm, your sand, and your ruby.” this made you open your eyes and look at them. “Now I can unlock this, you can go after her…” Morpheus looked up at Burgess with a glare. “If you give me what I've been asking for. Wealth, youth, immortality. Oh, your a god. These things are nothing to you. Don't you want your weapons and freedom? Just like you Hero?” Burgess said lowly looking between the two of you.

So when you and the male in front of him didn't answer he got impatient and angry. “Speak to me! Speak to me! Speak to me!” he screamed and banged his stick against the glass, which caused the male to flinch shortly. A boy came walking from behind. “Come on! Speak to me!” he screamed again. “It's all right, Father.” the boy put his hand on his shoulder tho stop Burgess of what he was doing. ‘That asshole has a kid?’ is all you thought.

Burgess pushed him away. “Get away from me! If you were any kind of son to me…” he told him as he held the stick in the air and lashed out to the boy, but he dodged it, but hit him with the second one. The boy grabbed the stick so they both held it and faced each other. “If Randell was still alive today-” Burgess was cut off by the boy. “If Randell were alive, he would hate you as much as I do.” he said with hatred, and pushed Burgess back as he tried to attack the boy again, which led him to lose his balance hand his head hit the cage.

Burgess let the stick fall hand put his hand on the back of his head and saw blood when he looked at it, then he fell to the ground, with a big wound on the back of his head.

The to other man and the boy rushed to him. “Sir?” one of them said in panic. But when the boy put his hand on Burgess’s head as he saw a pool of blood leaping out of the wound. You and Morpheus only watched the scene. “You won't get out of there. Never.” Burgess looked at You and Morpheus one more time, then his eyes closed. “Sir can you hear me? Sir?” one of the male askedand tried to shake him but Brugess didn't answer. He was Dead.

The boy looked shocked and looked at his father as he sat there on the ground. “He isn't moving. Is he…” one of the males said. “He's dead.” the other one answered as the boy stood up, Looking at his bloodied hand and back to his dead father.

The Boy stumbled away a few feet but stopped between our cages. He stopped at the cage of the other male and turned to look at him. Morpheus stared back at him and slowly stood up, Your checks got red as you saw that but you wanted to see the interaction.

Morpheus reached his hand out. ‘He’s probably asking him to open the cage.’ is what you thought. The boy turned his head a bit as he reached out too. “Don't do it, sir. He’ll kill us.” one of the males said. “What would your father say?” the male spoke again, Before the boy's hand touched the glass he stopped and put his hand back down, and looked at the ground.

The male in the cage looked disappointed, as the boy looked back up. “I need to think.” he said and looked at the other male then to you, then he left. Morpheus also had put his hand back down watching him leave.

You were angry, but still, you stood up slowly wich made Morpheus look at you. You were a bit ashamed because you had no clothes on but you pushed that aside as you both looked at each other. You held sadness in your eyes as you slowly reached out and put one hand flat on the glass. Morpheus did the same while staring into your eyes. When you looked at him you immediately felt safe.

Then nine months later the door to the Dungeons door was heard which made the guards stand up and open the gate. Alex and also another boy came in. “How are they today, Rogers?” Alex asked. Rogers sighed. “Moved his hand this morning. Right hand. And the other one is also just sitting there but didn't move.” Alex nodded, as the other boy walked in. He had a look of shock on his face and gasped. “Oh, my God.” he looked at Alex and back to you and Morpheus. “Alex?” he asked.

Alex then walked in looking at the both of you. “Hello. This is my friend, Paul.” he told you as they walked further in. “Paul, these are our unwilling guests.” he said looking at his friend shortly.

Alex was getting a little nervous. “Look, we've been talking, Paul and I, and if I let you out, will you promise not to harm us?” he asked calmly while looking at us. You both didn't move not answered his question. “If you could just speak to us.” Paul said a little nervous himself, but again silence.

Alex looked at Paul. “You see, I told you.” he was a little disappointed. “I'm telling you, you have to keep trying. Show them that they can trust you. Show them that you mean it.” Paul softly awnsered back.

Alex nodded at us. “I do mean it. Just promise that you won't hurt me or Paul, and I will let you out.” Alex tried to reason. But again we didn't answer. We just looked at them this time.

Almost eighty years later you had developed feelings for the Male in the cage next to you which was weird because you didn't even know his name, but little did you know that Morpheus also grew feelings for you.

Also the guards started to change every now and then until they looked very modern. And you, you were still looking young and didn't age which you thought was weird and not normal, but Alex was old now just as Paul was, they both married year's ago. They were in the dungeon again. Alex stood in front of Morpheus's cage and had his hand on the glass. “I could have asked you for wealth or Power, and protection, like my father did. But all I wanted was to be free of you two.” He said softly.

You and Morpheus looked up at him. “Surely you want that too.” Paul walked into view pushing a wheelchair in front of him. “Alex, darling, please.” he said softly mentioning to the wheelchair. Alex put his hand away from the glass and sat down in the wheelchair, Paul's hand on his shoulder. He looked at us one more time. “Take me upstairs, Paul. I won't be coming down here again.” is all that he said as Paul started to push the wheelchair, and now there was a gap in the protective circle. Paul stopped a few feet away and looked back seeing it, then he looked at us and made a small nod. He then around and and left with Alex.

Morpheus looked at the gap and wondered why Paul would do that, but in the end it doesn't matter, he can free himself and you now and that's all that matters to him right now.

So when they got out, and the door to the dungeon closed, it was only two guards left inside. “Old Dracula here’s not moving an inch. Just like the other weirdo.” the Female guard said quietly, looking up from her book she was reading. “Why do you call it Dracula and weirdo?” The male guard said tiredly while looking up from his newspaper. “Because I think they are. What do you think they are?” she asked quickly.

The male sighed. “I try not. You know what I think about?” he asked her, again looking up from his newspaper. “Majorca. Four days… and I'll be on a beach. Stinking of suntan lotion.” he said and smiled to himself at the thought.

Morpheus leaned forward holding himself on the glass while glaring at the guard. And you were just watching. “Lucky bugger. I was on Corfu on holiday once.” the female guard told as the other one yawned and fell asleep. Suddenly something weird starts to happen as Morpheus stares at the guard. The guard stood up from his chair and shot both of our cages and they started to break. You sat there wide eyed. “Fred!” the female guard screamed.

She ran towards him to stop him. “Fred, stop it! You'll… Fred!” she screamed but it was too late Both of your cages exploded into many pieces and our surroundings were glowing. You and Morpheus got out of your cages. “Don’t move! Stay where you are!” the guy called Fred screamed. “What… what's he got in his hands?” the female screamed. You looked at Morpheus and saw that he had something in his balled fist but you couldn't see it.

Morpheus slowly put his hand up where he held something in it right in front of his face. The guards already had their weapons aimed at us. “Oi! Open your hands, now!” she screamed at him.

And so he opened his Hand and you saw him blowing some sort of sand towards them, which made them instantly fall asleep. You were watching the scene curious. But then all of your strength suddenly left your legs and you fell to your knees right next to Morpheus with a thud. He instantly looked at you and kneeled down to your hight.

He slowly put his hand on your cheek and his eyes looked at you softly. “I'll get us out of here.” he said and his tone was smooth but very deep. You melted into his hand and nodded at him. Then he slowly picked you up bridal style. Your arms around his waist as you were sucked into the glowing. You… you were getting your revenge now.

Then in a room a black cat came in and sat on a chair in the middle of the room. There also came Alex into the room he looked young again and he curiously looked at the cat with his head tilted to the side. Suddenly the cat disappeared and Morpheus sat on the chair and you stood beside him both fully clothed as you looked at Alex darkly. “Hello” Morpheus said.

Alex was scared you could see it in his eyes. “It's... It's you two. You're… you're free.” he said quietly. “We are.” Morpheus simply awnsered as he stood up and the wind started to blow through the open window. “And have you any idea what it was like? Confined in a cage for over a century?” he asked as he slowly walked towards Alex. “Do you understand the damage you've done to your world?” he asked again. Alex was more then just scared now, he was terrified. “I'm sorry. I… I didn't know. Please.” he said backing away a bit.

Morpheus looked at him unbothered just like you. “Your punishment, then, shall be a gift.” when he said that Alex turned to a little boy. “I give you this, the gift… of eternal… sleep.” when he finished the sentence he blow some sand in Alex’s face and he fell asleep.

Morpheus looked looked back at you holding his hand out. “Let's get out of here.” That's all you needed to hear and took his hand as he teleported you both.

A voice was heard. ”Sir. Sir.” It was the panicked voice of Lucienne. “Oh, my goodness.” she kneeled down to turn him onto his back. “Sir. It's me!” she panted as she saw his eyes opening. “It's Lucienne.” she said as Morpheus looked at her and started to smile and took her hand. “Lucienne.” he whispered weakly. “Your home, my Lord.” and that's when Morpheus started to frown. When he looked beside him he noticed you weren't there. “My Lord? What's wrong?” she asked worriedly.

Morpheus started to stand up. “A boy, he was held captive. Just like me. I brought him with me.” He said as he started to look around. Not even a minute later he saw you laying a few feet away from him, and he immediately sprinted towards you with Lucienne. “A Human? Why was he held captive?” she asked confused. Morpheus shook his head as he turned you around and saw you breathing normally. “He is not fully human, it seems. Because he didn't age for almost a century. The man who held us captive once called him Hero.” Lucienne looked at him baffled. “Do you think he is one of the three heroes? My Lord?” she asked. “I don't know.” is all he awnsered as he gently put a hand on your cheek which made you open your eyes.

When you saw him you started to smile. “Your safe now.” Morpheus said softly as he helped you off of the ground. You looked around and saw the woman with pointy ears and smiled at her. “Hello, jung Man.” she smiled back at you. You were a little scared to speak because you didn't talk since you were held captive, but you decided to still try it. “H-Hello.” you said but your voice didn't sound raspy or broken as you thought it would be. Morpheus and Lucienne smiled at you. “Thank you, for taking me with you…” you started but you trailed off because you didn't know his name.

Morpheus smiled softly at you. “My name is Morpheus. And this is Lucienne.” he told you. “Thank you, Morpheus. And my name is Y/N.” you smiled at both of them.

You started walking over to very huge gates on a massive wall. On those big gates were some pictures in it it looked well made. It made you look at them amazed with your mouth wide open. Morpheus looked at you and chuckled. “You like them?” he asked which made you blink before realizing, and looked at him. “Yeah! I-I mean they look astonishing!” you smiled at him nervously.

Morpheus then raised his hand and touched the gates, they began shaking and started to open up. “Forgive me, sir, but… the realm, the palace… they are not as you left them.” Lucienne said as Morpheus looked at her. Morpheus looked through the gate as it opened. His look… he was shocked with what happened to his Realm… his home.

You, looked shocked too, even if you didn't know how it looked like before. You saw the dead trees and bushes, the land looked like as if it was completely dead. Then you saw that a piece of the roof from the half destroyed castle fell down. “What happened here? Who did this?” He asked not daring to look away from his destroyed home.

Lucienne let out a sigh. “My Lord, you are The Dreaming, The Dreaming is you. With you gone as long as you were, the realm began to… decay. And crumble.” she looked at him sadly as he looked back at her. “And the residents? The Palace staff?” Morpheus asked with a little hope. “I'm afraid most have… gone.” she looked at the ground. “Gone?” he asked rising his eyebrows. “Some went looking for you.” she looked back at him. “And the others?” He asked walking in front of her. Lucienne looked back down to her side, then back up. “They thought, perhaps, you'd grown weary of your duties and…” Morpheus stopped her. “What? Abandoned them? Had they so little faith in me?” he asked in disbelief.

Lucienne didn't know what to say. You on the other concentrated on the view that was in front of you, as the conversation went deff on your ears. You slowly started to move away from them and towards the destroyed landscape. You felt welcomed even if the view in front of you didn't look welcoming in the first place. You closed your eyes whilst you took in the fresh air.

Lucienne looked towards you, which made Morpheus look behind him and he sees that you are walking away from them. When suddenly they saw some tears rolling down your face, when you turned your head sideways.

Lucienne looks worried. Then you felt a hand on your shoulder which made you open your eyes and look at the person who's hand was on your shoulder. It was Morpheus. You look at him puzzled. “Y/N?” Morpheus asked. “Yes? Is something wrong?” you tilted your head. “You seemed lost in thoughts. What's wrong?” he asked softly. “Didn’t notice that! I'm happy to be free again and out of this tiny cell in that weird Dungeon… Aaaand I'm probably a little tired after some sleepless nights.” You laughed awkwardly while scratching your head.

Morpheus nodded. “How about a little sleep then?” He asked while rising a brow. “Hmmm, no. Not before I helped you rebuild your realm!” you said grinning and put your hands on your hips. “But if you want to help him, you will need your sleep.” Lucienne reasoned. You humed. “You're probably right. Okay, I'll sleep once we’re there.” you smiled. Morpheus nodded again. “Let's go shall we?” you nodded at his question and walked beside him.

When you arrived at the castle, Morpheus turned towards you. “Come with me, I show you where you can sleep,” he started as you part ways with Lucienne. “Can I ask you something, Morpheus?” you look at him. “Of course. What do you want to know?” you thought for a short second. “I wanted to know who you are besides Morpheus, you know?” you asked nervously. Morpheus smiled and made a small chuckle. “I am an Endless, Dream of the Endless to be exact. People also call me the Sandman. Also we're here.” he said opening a door to a bedroom that was still intact. When you went inside you saw that the room was painted in black, but it was held simple.

You pulled your shoes, coat, and shirt off. When you sat down on the bed, Morpheus follows you and stands in front of you. “Who's room is this?” you asked looking around. “It's mine.” he simply answered. Your head shot into his direction while standing up. “I didn't know. I can sleep on the floor too.” you tried to say as he already put a hand on your shoulder and sat you back down. “It's alright. I told you to sleep, didn't I?” you looked baffled as you nodded at him. “Now, lay down.” you did as you were told and pulled the covers over you.

Morpheus kneels down to your height, and holds a closed hand in front of his face, which makes you realize what he was about to do so you stop him. “Wait!” you said which made him raise a brow. “Yes?” he asks while looking into your eyes. “We can share the bed if you want! I mean if it's okay with you…” you said shyly. This catches Morpheus off guard but he starts to smirk slightly. “If that's what you want. I will. But I will go and talk to Lucienne shortly, then I'll be back.” he says and you give him a closed-eyed smile. “Yeah, I'll wait.” Morpheus gives you a nod as he stands up and leaves the room grinning to himself.

About ten minutes later he returned. “I'm here now.” he says and you simply nod at him. So he pulls his shirt and pants off but leaves the boxers on. He walks over to the empty side of the bed and gets under the covers. You both stare at each other until you slowly fell asleep. Morpheus smiled at your peaceful sleeping face as he slowly touched your cheek with his hand. Then the next second, you had your arms around him and snuggled into his chest. “Good night, Y/N.” Morpheus had a small smile on his face as he laid his arms around your body.

#male reader #gay #male x male #male x male reader #x male reader #lgbtq #x male y/n #the sandman #morpheus #lord morpheus #dream #dream of the endless #oneiros #fable 2 #morpheus x male reader #lord morpheus x male reader

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toporecall · 3 months ago

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Chapter 2. Ballerina Bend Under The Weight Of It All

We're back with chapter 2 of If Forever Gets Lonely, a Feyre-born-fae AU. Another High Lords meeting, scandalous dreams, and more Prythian drama.

Read it all on AO3 or chapter 2 below the cut.

Prev chapters: [1]

Normally a meeting of all seven High Lords was a rare occurrence, maybe once every few years, but given the imminent war, another meeting had been called just a couple weeks later. Tension was ratcheting within Prythian. Rumors were spreading rapidly that Hybern’s soldiers were preparing to invade and Tamlin and Lucien were still trying to negotiate where the people of Spring would go in the likely event that Spring was the first landing point.

They had called this meeting and so they were hosting all seven courts in their Spring home. Tamlin had pulled out all the stops—long tables of decadent food had been prepared and, rather than a ball, the green lawn just outside the manor had been set up with all sorts of games and festivities for after the meeting.

Meanwhile, Feyre was doing her best to avoid the eyes of both Beron and Rhysand. Beron, becuase she couldn’t get his offer out of her head. Could this whole negotiation really be solved if she capitulated and slept with him? And was that such a steep price to pay for the safety of a people she was soon to be responsible for?

Rhysand’s gaze she avoided for an entirely different reason. She did indeed like the idea of having a friend at these occasions but, over the past couple of weeks since they’d met, she was having increasingly…unfriendly thoughts about Rhysand. On the rare occasions Tamlin came to share her bed, she struggled to keep her mind from straying toward the High Lord of Night. And on the more common occurrences that she helped herself alone in bed at night, it wasn’t Tamlin’s green eyes she saw but violet ones.

Just last night she’d been laying in bed, alone and frustrated. She was having a hard time sleeping with the anticipation of all the courts coming to Spring the next day. She let her hand drift lower, under her blankets and nightdress. But the fantasy her mind served…

Rhysand was here, at Spring. Everyone had gone to bed, Lucien, Tamlin, and Feyre in their respective rooms in the east wing and all the guests in their rooms in the west wing. She was tiptoeing back to her room after fetching water from the kitchen when she felt more than saw a shadow wrap around her, stopping her in her tracks just outside of Tamlin’s door.

She knew immediately it was Rhysand. Knew it as his hands slid down her arms from behind, sliding over her hands to the tops of her thighs. She just started to protest when one hand lifted to cover her mouth.

“Shh shh shh. We don’t want to wake Tamiln, do we?” he whispered in her ear.

He pulled her closer to him, her back flush against his strong body. She could feel every inch of him as his right hand dragged over the fabric of her nightdress, over her stomach then lower until his fingers grazed her center and she whimpered into his hand.

A cough in the room startled Feyre from her thoughts. What had been getting into her lately? She hadn’t even realized she’d slipped back into last night’s fantasy. She glanced around the room, shaking off her own thoughts. Helion was trying to negotiate with Beron and Tarquin on Tamlin’s behalf to relocate Spring’s population. Kallias and Thesan were either listening or pretending to.

Rhysand was looking directly at her. She couldn’t tell if she was imagining the sparkle in his eyes or if that was coming from the light through the window.

She forced herself to hold his gaze, unwilling to be the first to look away. After a few long moments, he finally broke their eye contact and leaned to his left, whispering something in one of his advisor’s ears—Cassian, she had learned.

“Perhaps Feyre has an idea or suggestion on how we could negotiate this potential resettlement.” Her name on Beron’s lips snapped Feyre to attention. The rest of the room had stopped talking and was looking at her expectantly. She could feel her face turning red at the reminder of Beron’s hand on her ass and his offer. “Feyre?”

She opened her mouth, trying to remind herself that no one else knew what he was implying. But before she could come up with a reply, Tamlin chimed in abruptly.

“Feyre is really just here to listen.” He placed a hand on her knee. “Maybe we should change the topic for now and return to this question later.”

Feyre wasn’t sure if she was enraged by the dismissal or grateful for being saved from having to reply to Beron’s taunt.

“Very well,” said Beron. “Then perhaps next we should address the subject of my eldest son’s impending wedding.” Eris sat beside his father, looking smug as he sipped his drink.

“As a matter of strategy?” Morrigan asked, nearly rolling her eyes.

Beron sneered in her general direction. “One of Hybern’s generals has requested an invitation.”

That certainly got everyone’s attention.

“And you’re just now mentioning this?” Kallias asked, eyes wide.

“You neglected to mention that you’re in touch with Hybern, father,” Lucien said, speaking slowly as if he was being careful to choose his words.

“I am not in touch with Hybern. I simply received a letter from them,” said Beron.

“It seems rather obvious that given the impending war,” Tamlin emphasized, “our interests would not be served by inviting a Hybern general to celebrate with us.”

“It was less of a request and more of a decree.” said Beron.

“Who is it?” Rhysand spoke for the first time in a long while.

“Their general Amarantha.”

Rhysand’s gaze remained steady but Azriel, Cassian, and Mor all sat up straighter abruptly and glanced at each other.

There was a stilted silence in the room before Lucien finally cleared his throat and spoke. “I think it would be better if that did not happen.”

“As I said,” Beron replied sternly, “it was more of a declaration than a request.”

Another terse silence.

“Maybe this is an opportunity to avoid war altogether? Maybe a chance for peace?” Feyre asked, knowing even as she spoke that it was an incredibly naive question given everyone’s reaction to this news.

“Maybe,” Mor said with a small but generous smile.

Tamlin stood abruptly, knocking his chair over, and left the room without another word.

Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll go,” he muttered to Feyre before following Tamlin out of the room.

The room was silent for a few moments and Feyre realized with a jolt that she was technically the closest thing to the host now.

“Well, when is the wedding?” Feyre asked Eric and Beron.

“Two months from Saturday,” Eris replied.

“Lovely. Congratulations.”

The meeting wrapped quickly after that. The other High Lords clearly wanted time to process the implications of this revelation before continuing their strategy meetings. Feyre sent them all out to the lawn for music, games, and refreshments and promised she’d be out shortly.

She hurried down the hall to Tamlin’s study, careful not to trip over her pale lavender skirts. She found Tamlin and Lucien in the middle of a tense conversation, Tamlin standing and pacing behind his desk and Lucien seated across from him. Tamlin wore a dark green tunic, a lovely representation of spring.

“What was all of that about?” she asked, shutting the door behind her. She didn’t move further into the room but simply stood with her back against the door as if she needed it for support.

Tamlin just shook his head and waved a hand toward Lucien.

“There’s a lot of history with Amarantha, this Hybern general. She was close friends with Tamlin’s father. Since his death she’s been increasingly,” he paused and cleared his throat a bit, “erratic about her…attentions toward Tamlin. And Rhysand for that matter, who she blames for Tamlin’s father’s death given Rhysand’s father killed him.”

Feyre’s head spun and she was happy she had the door for support. This was the thing with High Lords, she was learning—immortality and power was a hell of a combination and bad blood, no matter how old, never quite seemed to clear.

“And?" she asked, sensing there was more.

“And,” Lucien’s jaw tensed, “years back I was sent to her as an emissary for the Spring Court. She didn’t take kindly to that perceived rejection from Tamlin. Words were had and she retaliated by gouging out my eye and sending me back home with a bloody hole in my face.”

Feyre was beginning to feel ill. Tamlin’s rage was palpable in the room.

“Surely Beron can’t invite her to the wedding,” Feyre reasoned, voice coming out high and strained.

“Unfortunately, I think my father is right. It’s more of a declaration than a request. And the punishment for not capitulating could be far worse than whatever game she’s planning. It could possibly be the start to this war that we are woefully unprepared for and desperately trying to avoid.”

“There has to be something we can—”

“Maybe the strategizing is best left up to us, Feyre.” Tamlin cut her off. He was gripping the edge of his desk and the wood was starting to crack beneath his fingers. “Our guests are without a hostess. Maybe you could attend to that.”

Feyre felt her face reddening. “We are to be married, Tamlin. I think I can be of more use to you than just a hostess.”

Feyre gasped as the wood splintered under Tamlin’s grip. Even Lucien looked startled.

“Maybe leave us. For now, Feyre.” Lucien said gently with an apologetic look.

Feyre huffed in disbelief but did as she was told, spinning around and shutting the door loudly behind her which she recognized was someone petulant. She stopped halfway down the hall that lead outside, not realizing her hands were trembling until she took a moment to breathe.

Was this to be her fate? A doll for the Spring Court? A female to look pretty, play hostess, and receive Tamlin in bed whenever he deigned to show up? Feyre knew that as a merchant’s daughter, and the youngest at that, she hadn’t been bred for this life the way some females had but her courtship with Tamlin had lead her to believe that she would be more of an equal in this household. Even if not an equal, at least a respected voice.

She felt almost as betrayed by Lucien for not sticking up for her.

Feyre took a deep breath to soothe her shaking fingers and headed outside, pausing at a mirror in the hall to check her appearance before returning to their guests. She looked pale and had definitely been losing weight since she’d moved here to Spring Court. Something about this lifestyle made her withdrawn and finicky about her appetite.

She pinched her cheeks to give them a little color and went out to the lawn. The members of the various courts were mingling, enjoying the mild air and refreshments. Some were even playing the games they’d had set out.

Feyre got herself a glass of sparkling wine and drank it quickly, as surreptitiously as she could manage. She put the empty glass aside, picked up another, and went to mingle with the guests. It did seem that everyone was trying their best to act as though they liked each other. She fielded a few questions about where Tamlin and Lucien had gotten off to with vague and pleasant replies.

Mostly, she tried to keep at bay the dawning realization that the life she had signed on to was not what she thought it would be. Feyre had grown up fairly independent. Being the youngest daughter, there was much less emphasis put on her to marry well and be a proper young lady. Instead, she’d had more freedom to run wild in the woods, to shoot a bow and arrow, to explore her passions as long as they didn’t interfere with her family’s propriety. Her interests were often looked at with an eye roll by her family, but tolerated nonetheless.

And then she’d met Tamlin. He’d made her feel so special and so singular. Their whirlwind romance was more than she ever could have dreamed of. Engaged to a High Lord—how fate had surprised them all! It had all seemed so magical, even with the uncertain situation with Hybern. But Feyre was now starting to realize that she had penned herself in. She was not to be treated as an equal here, a partner to help lead Spring Court, the land she’d spent her whole life in. She was a window dressing, a pretty face.

Feyre’s thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of Eris in front of her. She automatically pasted on a polite smile.

“Congratulations again on your engagement. I hope you’re enjoying your time here,” she said as pleasantly as she could.

“Oh yes, well, some marry for love, some marry for station.” An odd reply. “Care for a little friendly competition?” He asked with a glint in his eye.

“What sort of competition?”

“Lady’s choice,” he gestured to the games set up around the lawn. Feyre had the urge to roll her eyes at his cocky smile but suppressed it.

“Alright then,” she placed her wineglass on the nearest table, “archery.”

There were three targets set up at varying distances. It was decided they would each fire three arrows, one aimed at each of the three. A small crowd had gathered around them as they prepared. Eris was going first.

As he pulled back the bow, readying to fire at the closest target, he turned to Feyre. “What does the winner get?”

She thought for a moment. “A favor. To be called in at the winner’s will.”

Another cocky grin, and not in a charming way. “Very well.”

He fired his first arrow, hitting a few inches to the left of the bullseye. The High Lords and their courts clapped politely. The middle target he hit in about the same spot, just left of the bullseye. The farthest target was trickier and his arrow landed at the very edge of the target, just barely avoiding a miss.

Feyre suppressed a smile. She was an excellent shot and was completely confident that she could beat Eris. She picked up the smaller bow, relishing the familiar feel of it in her grasp. She’d always loved how capable she felt holding a bow. Without a word, she fired her first arrow. A bullseye. She fired at the second target a little farther off. Another bullseye.

The crowd was murmuring, clearly surprised and delighted at this turn. She looked up, smiling at the group until she spotted him. Tamlin had finally come outside and was standing at the edge of the gathering. She could feel the reproach burning in his gaze. A lady shouldn’t be so skilled with a bow and arrow. A lady shouldn’t be firing a bow and arrow at all dressed in a lilac gown fluttering in the breeze. She should scoff at such a thing.

Feyre readied her final shot, letting out a breath as she steadied her hand. She knew she could easily hit the final bullseye, but with Tamlin watching…

She fired. And missed the target entirely.

There was a collective gasp and a smattering of applause. Eris was declared the winner.

“I’ll let you know when I need that favor,” he said with an infuriating wink.

Feyre did her best to smile back good-naturedly before turning and retrieving her wine. The group had dispersed and was once again spread about the lawn, playing various games and chatting. It was easy for her to slip off quietly to the edge of the woods that lined the property, eager for a few moments of quiet. Tensions throughout Prythian had been increasing enough that Feyre was conscious of the fact that these moments of peace and quiet might be some of the last she’d know for a long while.

A few moments was all she had before she heard the sound of soft steps approaching from behind her. She turned her head and peered around the tree she was leaning against to see Rhysand approaching.

She wanted, badly, to ignore the feeling in her gut at the sight of him, at the knowledge that he had sought her out again. Wanted so badly to pretend that he was just another male, just another Prythian High Lord to deal with, but she couldn’t deny the spark she’d felt when he’d kissed her hand at Summer Court. She couldn’t deny that the sight of him out here, separated from the rest of the gathering, had anticipation coiling within her like a snake.

“Rhysand,” she said, nodding her head in greeting. “What brings you out here?”

“Rhys,” he corrected as he reached her. “And I wanted to see where the bride of Spring had gotten off to. I thought you might be hiding some secret delight out here.”

That crooked smile. Those eyes looking down at her. Feyre shook her head as if she could shake the thoughts away.

“Just needed a moment of quiet. It’s been a long day.”

He hummed in acknowledgement and they stood in a comfortable moment of silence, gazing out at the forest. They could hear the sounds of the rest of the gathering off in the distance.

Feyre was lost enough in the sounds and sights of the forest that she startled when she felt Rhysand lean toward her, his lips almost at her ear.

“I know you missed that last shot on purpose,” he whispered.

Feyre turned toward him which she quickly realized was a mistake. His face was so close that she could see the stubble along his jaw, could practically imagine what it would feel like beneath her fingertips.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, taking a step back for self preservation.

He relaxed his posture. “Sure you don’t.”

“What reason would I have for missing?”

He said nothing for a moment, just long enough that Feyre turned to look back at him again. He looked more serious now, the crooked smile vanished from his expression.

“Don’t let them change you, Feyre. In this world, you need to be your own weapon. Don’t ever forget that and don’t ever let them take your power.”

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taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!): @the-lonelybarricade @popjunkie42 @magic-and-ships @starfall-spirit @soopsiedaisies

#is this chapter too long? oops #drama drama drama #acotar #feysand #a court of thorns and roses #rhys x feyre #rhysand #feyre archeron #feysand fic #if forever gets lonely

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otakugurl-11037 · 3 months ago

Text

Who Let Vampires Run Rock n' Roll?! Female!Y/NxVampire Rockstar.

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Before you read, there's biting, mentions of blood, ghosts, and other spooky things. There is also a mention of smashing, but it's nothing too serious. Happy reading!

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2,000+ words.

Will be in multiple parts!!

Random question, but do you believe that the Ship of Theseus, if taken apart and replaced with the same parts, will it still be the same ship?

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“You got front-row tickets?!”

My friend, Mai, had practically squealed at me over the phone. She and I were obsessed with this indie alt-rock band we discovered called Crimson Nocturne and they just happened to have a concert just five minutes away from where I lived.

I managed to snag a good ticket since I had saved up my coupons over the years. I ended up knocking the price down from $150 to a mellow $45. Thank goodness I picked up the habit of mindlessly clipping coupons that I may or may not use.

“Aw man, I’m so jealous,” Mai continued. “I wanna go, but this work is horrrrible!! It just feels like it never ends, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I replied. “I’m sorry you gotta do all that. I’ll be sure to send you some videos of the concert, okay?

“Okay,” she said, seemingly put into a better mood. “Oh, and lemme know if Lucien notices you! He’s been on a little streak with taking notice of the front-row fellas!”

While she giggles over the phone, I think of Lucien--the lead of the band. He’s the one who started it all, with his lyrical genius and creativity. He found his group rather quickly after showing off his skills during an impromptu talent show.

“I don’t think he’ll notice ME, though,” I say with a half-chuckle. “I’m not even wearing any of the band’s merch.”

“Daww, never say never! I bet that he’ll swing you around in his arms like lovers!”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her silly statement.

“No, he won’t,” I say through giggles.

“He could drop everything and LEAP toward you, haha!”

Her and I share a hearty laugh for a good minute--man, she is the best friend I could ever ask for.

“Oh, shoot-”

“What, what’s the matter,” I ask, ceasing our laughter.

“I gotta go, I’m already 5 minutes late to this meeting I’m supposed to be in. See you!”

“Okay, see you later!”

She hung up and I put my phone in my jean pocket. I take one last look at myself in the mirror, doing a mental checklist of everything on my person.

Phone, check.

Wallet, check.

Car keys and regular keys, check.

Super cool Hello Kitty hairpin I found in the clearance aisle, check.

I adjust my hairpin before heading to the door, ready to go to my first-ever Crimson Nocturne concert.

•••

After going through a labyrinth and back to find parking, I approach the venue, which is a restored theater that was abandoned in the 30s until a company picked it back up. Before that band came to town, I figured that the restoration was a waste of money; nobody wanted to go inside because rumors were spread about it being haunted. I must admit that they did a wonderful job of sprucing up the place.

The neon lights and plants surrounding the large building breathed life and excellence in a way that nobody from the 30s could imagine. The plants, along with the lights, had every hue of color you could imagine. It’s as if you let a rainbow take hold of a coloring book.

I enter the building, which has the complete opposite vibe from the outside. I figure that it’s to fit the theme of who’s performing here. Beyond the long line of people who are practically hopping up and down for Crimson Nocturne’s future performance, there’s checkered flooring, fake blood oozing from the walls(or at least I HOPE it’s fake), toy bats hanging upside down from the ceiling, fake cobwebs, skeletons with glowing eyes, and posters of each of the band members.

Everyone except Lucien is wearing masks--either to conceal their identity or for an artistic reason. One thing about Crimson Nocturne is that they’ve always been particular about their works, nothing happens without a reason. Each mask has a marking on it--Lysander, the drummer, has a skull marked on his mask, Alexzander, the bassist, has a pentagram marked on it, and Alistair, the guitarist, has a single heart mark. Me and Mai have come up with theories as to what those mask markings could mean, but they were 3 am ramblings--we would always wake up the next morning to find out just how stupid those theories were and trash them.

Lucien, however, is another story. He has shaggy black hair, heavy eyeliner, red eye contacts, and he always wears a dark leather suit with combat boots that could eliminate military-grade bugs. Often, I’d notice him with fang caps over his canines or red eye contacts. Perhaps this is his way of standing out from the others.

I move up in the line, equally excited for this concert.

“Aaaah, oh my gosh, I can’t wait to see them,” a girl gushes behind me.

“Dude, this is my second concert with them! The whole band signed my poster last time I came,” a guy recalled.

“Is it bad that I would smash all of them, at the same time,” another girl said before being interrupted by a series of WHAT coming from what I assume are her friends. I didn’t join in, but it did make me turn my head in dumbfoundedness at how boldly she said such an outrageous thing.

I never found them THAT attractive since the majority of them are wearing masks. I could see myself getting with Lucien, but hardly. He’s way beyond my league.

The guy in front of me practically ran to the concert stage, revealing the ticket clerk. I walk forward and grab my phone from my back pocket, showing him my digital ticket. He puts his barcode scanner over it, lets it ding, and then hands me a complimentary keychain of chibi Alistair aggressively hugging a teddy bear, in which the poor thing’s eyes are popping out. Must be an intense hug.

“Enjoy the show, miss,” the clerk said.

Before my brain could let me utter a misplaced ‘you too,’ I said,

“Thank you!” Skipping over to the concert hall, I pocket both my phone and my new keychain.

I make it to my front row seat, dodging some of the other onlookers. It is mind-numbingly cold in this large auditorium. Somehow, the AC unit could freeze an area that can house well over 3,000 people. The cold strategically attacked my weak points--my arms, hands, face, and the front of my neck. I internally regret not wearing my turtleneck sweater.

Then the lights dimmed. People’s chatter descended into soft murmurs, the air got warmer, and a sense of nervousness loomed over our shoulders like a ghost was truly haunting this building.

What have I gotten myself into?

I’m too deep into this to leave, so I lean away from the back of my seat, bringing my forearms to my thighs. I probably looked like a wannabe CEO pulling that pose, but I didn’t care. It helped keep the nervous feeling at bay.

A single guitar riff played, breaking the crowd’s silence and replacing it with cheers and rambunctiousness. I sat up almost immediately with the sudden shift in energy. Then they crescendoed into a whole melody while the curtains lifted to reveal the band in all their glory, red light showering them all.

“Haaah, how are we doing tonight,” Lucien asked, his fake fangs on full display.

The crowd cheered and Lucien feigned surprise.

“Wow, you guys must be doing great, huh? Haha, I appreciate all of you lovely little darklings coming out to see us tonight. It warms my heart knowing that you all could take me from down here, to up HERE.”

He brought his arm from the floor, kneeling down, to high up as he spoke. Everybody cheered again, happy to know that we’ve supported him well.

“But I digress,” Lucien continued, playing with the cord of his microphone. “We gotta show to put on, and I can’t have my friends just play this melody without me singing anything, right?”

The crowd hollered once more while I wooed, my voice surely being drowned out by the near-full house.

With that, he took off, his singing voice miles away from his talking voice. Hearing his voice on streaming is one thing, but actually hearing it live is another. His haunting voice and equally dark lyrics just seemed to entrance me. He wove a web of notes and like the fly I--and others-- are, we flew in, trapped in the spider’s grip. His voice is so mellow, yet rough around the edges, it’s perfect.

Before I knew it, the song ended and the crowd’s uproar snapped me out of my trance. I woo along with them, looking at Lucien’s little smirk he had. He grabbed the mic once again.

“Up next is your favorite,” he said, dragging out the last word as if he wanted to tease us.

A familiar melody plays, and the crowd is sent back into an uproar. ‘Little Miss Wild Øne’ is one of the best songs they have ever conceived, and for good reason. It’s a deep, yet sensual song that somehow gives you that positive shiver down your spine.

Oh crap, I forgot to record this for Mai!

After fumbling with my phone, I reach the camera app and…accidentally take a picture. I quickly switch it to video and start recording, focusing on Lucien. As soon as I start recording, he starts singing.

“Ohhhh, how you are filled with sin, you feel like you cannot win, let it run through like a riiiver, and with that I shall deliver…”

The music pauses only to resume with Lucien screeching the word “evil.” With how intense that scream is, I could’ve dropped my phone. His diaphragm is also impressive, with how long he’s holding that one word. While screeching.

Ohh, Mia’s gonna LOVE this…

Lucien stops with his screeching, allowing for his bandmates to continue playing their intense tune. He then turns his head towards my camera and does the unthinkable.

He winked. He freaking winked at the camera!!

A buzz goes through my body, having experienced such attention. How does something so small do something so grand to me? If it weren’t for the fact that this is a public space, I would’ve kicked my feet and giggled aloud.

Ah wait, it probably wasn’t directed towards me….yes it was. I’m the only person in my row and column recording him right now.

He approached me from the stage, kneeling to extend his hand out. A smile was on his face, once again, showing off his teeth.

My heart was nearing the edge of bursting out of my chest, but I brought my hand closer to his, thinking that he was offering a high-five.

Nope.

He pulled me onto the stage, holding me with one arm. He held his microphone with his free arm as he leaned in to sing once again.

“Mm, ooh, baby, must you hurt me so? Nobody’s born clean, I’ve told you so,”

I just knew that I was sweating bullets. Being on stage, you become painfully aware of how many people are there, their full attention on you and you alone. Somehow, being so close to Lucien made me more nervous. Yet at ease at the same time, with how much confidence he’s exuding.

I quietly sang along, so I wouldn’t feel like a sitting duck next to the Lucien.

“Raaah, why are you so scared? You knew what you signed up for, don’t act like you cannot comprehend. We’re only sinners after aaaaall… But don’t you worry dear, tonight I have something special for you, it’s coming near, it’s… HERESY!”

I can’t scream along with him. I’ve tried it before and my voice broke, like it literally broke. I had to talk to people with a text-to-speech tablet for about a week. While he’s holding out the word, I look around the crowd, they’re full of hype and energy. Of the likes I couldn’t imagine. If humanity is good at one thing, they’re good at filling a room with life--especially when this venue has been close to death.

“Ooooohh…..”

Lucien closes out while the rest of the band goes into a slow decrescendo. I figure that around this time, Lucien would let me down but he had other plans.

He tapped my shoulder and I looked up at him. He brought his hand over my ear to whisper.

“Darling Darkling,” Lucien murmured. “I’m parched, may I have a drink, please?”

I looked at him a bit puzzled. I didn’t bring a water bottle or anything(I should really start doing that) so I’m not sure what he meant. I nodded.

“Sure, go ahead,” I whispered back.

He smiled, showing off those fangs again.

“Thanks.”

He leaned in, and I learned that those fake fangs were in fact, real. He bit down on the side of my neck and the whole crowd went insane. My eyes were wide, the heat coming to my face and ears were palpable. I should’ve ran away, but I stayed. Leaned into the bite, accepted this sin he brought to the table. He drank for a long time before letting me go, seeing me stumble a little bit on my own.

As if I came back to my senses, I quickly ran off-stage and back to my seat. Staring into my eyes with dilated pupils, he wiped off the excess blood and grabbed the mic again.

“Thanks for that, sweetheart.”

His tone completely changed, he spoke as if he was flirting with me. Which also made the crowd explode. I was in for a long night…

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You made it to the end, hooray! Part 2 will come out sometime, on someday. Have a nice rest of your day/evening!

#vampire writing #vampire x human #vampire #vampire rockstar #vampire romance #writing #writers on tumblr #yapping here so that people can see this #have a nice day

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thesupreme316 · 1 year ago

Note

bronco nima & lucien price x female reader (platonic) the boys help their best friend through a rough break up. i could imagine bronco wanting to kill the guy and lucien comforting the lady.

Bronco Nima & Lucien Price Comforting You After A Break-Up:

Word Count: 1K

Supreme Speaks: Thanks to @hooks-martin for requesting this, I hope it lives up to your expectations. Please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: barely proofread, sorry about that

If ya’ll haven’t checked out Bronco and Lucien, do yourself a favor and go do it now

I think that they would be at your house before you could even finish your sentence

You and your partner of 2 years broke up due to differences yesterday

You were okay because you two just grew apart

So you thought

But then you found out they had a secret affair with someone going on for 1 year…and he proposed to the girl today (this was inspired by a reddit story)

And that was the straw that broke the camel’s back

You were hysterical, letting out every drop of anger and sadness in your body

You were also currently on the phone with your best friends; crying about the situation

Next thing you know, your doorbell rang

You opened the door, eyes full of tears, to see your best friends standing with your favorite ice cream, tissues, car keys, and a blanket

Lucien: get your shoes on and get in the car. We’re going for a late drive

He’s the calm one in the situation; thinking logically and believing that you need fresh air

You quietly got in the back of Lucien’s car and ate your ice cream as the blanket was draped over you

And Bronco?

Bronco wants to kick someone; he didn’t say a word, he just sat in the front seat, seething

He literally wants to kill your ex, and quite possibly the girl too, but he’s restraining himself

For you, the drive made you feel a little better and definitely allowed you to cool your head with the radio playing in the background and Lucien asking different questions to distract you

After driving around, they went back to your house

“Thanks guys for coming out here at 11 PM to deal with my dumb issues,” You said, flopping on the couch.

Lucien rubbed your back, “Your issues are never dumb. We’ll always be here for you. Your issues are our issues,” He said looking to Bronco for reassurance, who was just pacing with his arms crossed. “Right, Bronco?”

Bronco quickly snapped his head up, “Yeah. Sweetheart, you can always come to us about anything.” He stated before he started to pace again.

You leaned up to whisper to Luicen, “What’s wrong with him?”

“You know how he gets when someone messes with you. So he’s a little angry right now,” He whispered back

“Y’all talking about me?” Bronco's voice slightly boomed, making the two of you shake your head. “I’m gonna make you a sandwich 'cause I don’t think you ate anything besides that damn ice cream,” He said before going to the kitchen. No matter how mad he may be, Bronco always made sure to take care of you first.

In the meanwhile, Lucien was putting on Netflix for y’all to watch while y’all waited. As the show of your choice was opening, there was a knock at your door. Lucien, looking confused, got up ad went to the door. He looked in the peephole, rolled his eyes, and sat back down. “Who was it?” You asked

“It’s your ex, with flowers.” Lucien said before whispering “Jackass” You looked at the door, before looking down. Lucien spoke up again as your ex continued to knock on the door, “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. Just know, I fully support whatever it is that you do.”

Sighing, you get up and decided to answer the door. Your ex was standing there as Lucien said with flowers and a remorseful face. “Y/N! I thought you would never answer!”  “What do you want?”

“You back.” He said, almost making you laugh. The same man who cheated on you, left you, and tried to marry another girl wanted you back? Crazy. “I made a big mistake! I know it wasn’t right, but I’m back now. We can be together again, like how we should be,”

You bitterly chuckled, “What about your fiancé? She kicked your no-good self to the curb?”  “We’re over, it’s you who I want.”

You were about to speak until Lucien's voice called out, “Well she doesn’t want your stupid ass!”

Your ex tried to look over you to find the voice, “Who was that? Oh, so you moved on that quickly? I should have known.”

“What? You moved on first, before we even ended our relationship! Look, can you just leave before there are more problems, please?”

“My pleasure. Enjoy being right back where you were.” Your ex said turning his back as you closed the door. You huffed, before taking your original seat next to Lucien.

Lucien wrapped his arm around you, “You did well. Not the way I wouldn’t have done it, but you did very well.”

Raising an eyebrow, you asked, “How would have you done it?”

He smiled, “I wouldn’t have answered the door.” You both laughed as Bronco entered the living room and plated the sandwich in front of you. He then started to move towards the door. “Where you going, man?”

“I need to take out the trash,” Bronco said as he walked out the door. You took a bite of the delicious sandwich, but then you realized something.

“Lucien, the trashcan is in my backyard.” You said.

His eyes widened, “And he didn’t have a trash bag with him.” As you both looked at each other with wide eyes, a scream from outside broke the moment of silence. From what you could tell, it was your ex’s voice. Lucien looked out the window, briefly smiled, and turned back to you. “Bronco’s fine.”

As if on cue, you heard tires screech away from your house and Bronco entered your house, huffing. His man bun was now lopsided and his right hand was turning red. Closing the door, he simply said, “I’m gonna go ice my hand.” He walked to the kitchen, making a small smile appear on your face.

“See? I told you, he’s fine.” Lucien said, clicking back to Netflix.

You don’t know what you would do without your boys protecting and comforting you.

And to be honest, you didn’t wanna find out.

#wwe #wwe nxt #nxt #nxt imagine #nxt headcanon #bronco nima #bronco nima imagines #bronco nima x reader #lucien prince #lucien price #lucien prince imagine #lucien price imagine #wrestling fic #wrestling imagine

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dent-de-leon · 1 year ago

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Thinking about. How nine wizards tried to cage and twist Lucien's soul, use him as nothing more than a vessel in their grand design, a broken spirit consumed by the agonizing dream they all shared. The fact that mages from the age of arcanum--like the Somnovem--were known for capturing fate touched souls in an attempt to bend destiny to their will, manipulating and torturing those that had drawn the Matron's eye. Unfortunate souls like Lucien.

“...The surviving chronicles of the Age of Arcanum are filled with tales of magical hierarchies who enslaved those they took for fate-touched--or worse, attempted to extract the essence of fate from them by the most horrid means.”

Thinking about how, even now, after a thousand years, tyrannical wizards are still tormenting those chosen by Fate, capturing and twisting them to their own ends.

But there was still one wizard who went to hell and back and risked everything to save someone bound by fate. Intent on taking him home--regardless of fate's design and even death--never giving up hope, even if that fated soul was already doomed from the start--

Caleb sounding just like those ancient mages from the Age of Arcanum at first. "Anyone can send a message through a wire or make lights. I want to bend reality to my will." Caleb insisting he's only traveling with the Nein to further his own goals. Berating himself for not abandoning them the moment they are no longer of use. “Look at this one. He’s like a walking rainbow, what is this? Why are you with him? It makes no sense. He’s a circus performer, he’s not going to help you—”

And instead, he uses all that power to try and save someone he loves. Realizes just how cathartic and good it feels to finally uses his magic to heal:

"Caleb is going to set his hands on the Transmuter Stone, which is as big as an ostrich egg--and think of all the time and energy that went into making him able to destroy, and tear down. And how good it feels to subvert that and turn it, and use it to build. And Restore. And heal. And begin to summon up every ounce of learning and ability and skill and inspiration and imagination I have, and channel it into the stone. And fill it with the shared connection everyone here has, and try to summon our friend back from the beyond."

Thinking of a legacy of wizards who were selfish and cruel and only cared for their own self-interests, willing to step on everyone else in their path so long as it gave them an edge--no sacrifice too great for the cost their work demands. Wiling to tear apart fate itself and invoke the wrath of the gods even if countless innocents have to pay the price for their arrogance.

Thinking of one wizard who was so haunted and desperate and lonely--how his heart was touched by another lost, broken soul like him. And in the end, all Caleb wants is to just bring him home--

#mollymauk tealeaf #caleb widogast #widomauk #forever thinking of how if this were the age of arcanum molly could have ended up imprisoned by wizards just like caleb--#critical role

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aldbooks · 1 year ago

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Some Elucien angst for you..

I fully blame @sunshinebingo for this after her heartbreaking little Gwynriel scene this morning. Feel free to blame her too 😝

Elain brought the glass to her lips and took a sip of the rich red wine while surreptitiously studying the fire haired male standing as far across the crowded barge from her as he could get. The one she knew still watched her with longing even as he put more and more distance between them and longer and longer periods of absence between his visits. The one her soul called out to in the silent, lonely hours of the night.

He was giving up on her. She knew it with a certainty that she did not need her powers of sight for. The same cauldron damned powers that had led them to their current position.

She’d had many visions of Lucien over the years. Of him, of her, of them together. Nearly all of them had been good. Beautiful, lovely dreams full of light and love and laughter. But it had only taken one- one dark, horrifying image, to bring it all crashing down.

The vision of Lucien lying broken in her arms had only come to her once, though it had haunted her ever since.

There had been a time once, when she had been intrigued by him, had wanted to know him, to consider pursuing all those lovely, dreamlike visions. A part of her still wanted that, if she was being honest. But each time she thought of it, that vision would resurface in her memory causing her to turn away from his earnest attempts to earn- not even her affection, just her acknowledgment.

The girl within her that had always longed to be seen for more than her beauty wished for him to push past the barriers to put up. To fight for her and push her past her own inclination towards reticence. To make her want to try despite the inevitable heartache. But she knew very few people, male or female, who would subject themselves to the sort of pain and humiliation she inflicted on him with each visit, and still prevail. Even the most resilient had their limits and Lucien Vanserra, she was sure, was rapidly approaching his.

Yet, he kept coming, no matter how infrequent those visits were becoming, he still came, heart in his hand as though compelled to do so. She could feel his pain through the bond, could also feel his reluctance to experience more of it, and yet he came.

And perhaps it made her a coward- no, she knew it did- to keep turning him away out of fear for a fate that was not certain. But she had known loss before. Losing Graysen had sunk her deep into despair, and losing her father had been almost unbearable. How much worse would it be to lose him?

She did not have to imagine. She had heard Feyre’s screams when she had nearly lost Rhys after remaking the cauldron. She’d seen the anguish in Rhys’ face when Feyre and Nyx had lay dying before Nesta had saved them. She already knew, if she opened herself up to the possibility, just how deeply she could fall for this male who was tethered to her soul. She had seen it a thousand times. And she knew that losing him… it would destroy her.

If there was one lesson she had learned in her short life thus far, even as a human, it was that nothing was promised. They were owed nothing. Not a moment of happiness or content. It could all be gone in an instant. And while she knew that her visions did not always come true, that the future was constantly changing, that vision was still one possible future. Given how slowly the fae aged, it had been impossible to tell if that scene had been a year away or a hundred. She did not know how much time she might have, and none of it was promised.

So the only question that mattered was, was the love she saw in all those other visions worth the price of the loss she might one day face?

She knew what the others would say if she asked them. Rhys and Feyre, with all the adversity they had already faced together would say- unequivocally- yes. Nesta may never admit it out loud, but her sister would agree and her mate who wore his heart on his sleeve, would hand the blade to his executioner, content in the knowledge he had some small part of her, no matter how much more he might have wanted. Morrigan, the optimist who had fought so hard for her own bit of happiness would smile and nod without hesitation. Even Azriel, who still sought love so desperately, would agree.

But Elain… she lifted her eyes, meeting a mismatched pair from across the room and held them only briefly, absorbing the frantic pull of the bond for just a moment before quickly turning away… She was a coward.

#elucien angst #elucien

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josefavomjaaga · 2 years ago

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Metternich about Napoleon, 1808

An interesting evaluation of the general situation in France, from autumn 1808, given by Austrian ambassador Metternich to his Minister of Foreign Affairs in Vienna, taken from the second volume of “Mémoires, documents et écrits divers”. For context: Metternich had in an earlier missive suggested it might be a good idea to have closer relations with Talleyrand. A suggestion that – hardly surprising – seems to have met with lots of suspicion in Vienna. Metternich tries to prove that, for once, Talleyrand is not to be seen as an enemy to the Austrian cause, that he, to the contrary, tries to stabilize a foreign policy that is about to spiral out of control.

Metternich to Stadion. Paris, 24 September 1808

[…] There are two parties in France, as opposed to each other as the interests of Europe are to the particular ideas of the Emperor.

At the head of one is the Emperor and all the military. The first only wants to extend his influence by means of force, and it is from a degree of nepotism of which there is perhaps no example, a feeling at least as strong in him as egoism; it is, moreover, from the bellicose tendency which a long habit has given to his mind, and from the fiery spirit of his character, to which we owe all the upheavals which, contrary to all reason, and to all sound and settled political calculation, he attempts and unfortunately executes only too much every year.

In short: The guy is unable to discipline himself, and unlike at other courts, there currently is no system in place to keep him in check by other means.

Napoleon sees in France only himself; in Europe and in the whole world, only his family. It is enough to observe him, against all prudence, isolating himself from all the members of his family in order to place them far from him on thrones acquired at the price of so much blood and sacrifice, to see him overthrow weak princes, entirely subject to his will, even to his whims, in order to give these crowns to brothers or relatives over whom he exercises infinitely less influence, - a truth proven daily, to his great chagrin, - not to be able to doubt that his very ambition is subject to his inclination for nepotism.

As interesting and probably correct this assessment by Metternich is (the problems Napoleon had before he took over Portugal and Spain are miniscule compared to those he had after that coup), I could imagine there may be an ulterior motive behind Metternich’s dire warning of nepotism. After all, the Austrian emperor, too, had plenty of brothers, and so had empress Maria Ludovica, most of which were no friends of Metternich.

Personally, I think there may be another motive behind Napoleon’s behaviour than nepotism. As Metternich states himself, Napoleon often struggled to keep his relatives in check. So, when he removed them from Paris and put them on thrones far away, did he do that only in order to do them a favour, or also in order to strengthen his own position in France by removing anyone who might become a figurehead of opposition at home? He removed, one by one:

Eugène (son of the empress, closest thing to a son Napoleon had in the eyes of the public during the Consulate)

Joseph (most respected and most influential of his brothers, according to the constitution his immediate heir)

Louis (father to the boy whom most people saw as Napoleon’s likely future heir)

Jérome (last remaining of his brothers)

Murat (last remaining and highest-ranking family member still in Paris, most respected in the army among all the relatives)

While Lucien of course famously had exiled himself even before the empire. - From what I have read about other courts, it was not unusual to see people flock around other influential figures than the monarch, especially around a possible heir, forming different parties in more or less overt opposition to each other and to certain policies. While it made a court a hotbet for intrigues, it also made it possible for different views and attitudes to coexist there, and to confront the monarch with them. I often feel like Napoleon was keen on removing his relatives from court simply because it removed a source of possible opposition.

Metternich continues:

The military seek only bruises and wounds, especially since he who escapes death is sure of immense rewards.

This must have made for interesting battlefield conversations: Excuse me, sir, before I kill you off, could be so kind as to wound me a little? Nothing too serious, if you please, but with lots of blood. I finally want that damned cross, you know.

There is only one state in France which opens the way to everything, to fortune, to titles, to the constant protection of the Sovereign: it is the military state; one would say that France is populated solely by soldiers and by citizens created to serve it by the sweat of their brow.

The other party is composed of the great mass of the nation, an inert and immovable mass, like the remains of an extinct volcano. At the head of this mass are the most eminent persons of the civil state, and principally M. de Talleyrand, the Minister of Police, and all those who have fortunes to keep, who see no stability in institutions based on ruins, and which, rather than leaning on a durable state of affairs, the anxious genius of the Emperor surrounds only with new ruins.

I’m not sure if Metternich is right in drawing such a clear line between these two parties, to me the distinction seems much more blurry. Plenty of high-ranking officers had married into the circles “who have fortunes to keep”, after all. And there are lots of reports about unrest in the army already from the Polish campaign in 1807. The alleged “Philadelphes” conspiracy is mentioned a lot in German sources for the campaign of 1809, for what those are worth.

This party has existed since 1805; the war of 1806 and 1807 strengthened its means; the bad success of the enterprise against Spain in 1808 made the leaders of the party and their arguments popular; what previous successes had not been able to mitigate had to be strengthened by reverses caused by the most disastrous and immoral of calculations.

This last expression probably refers to the coup in Spain and Napoleon forcing the Bourbons to abdicate so he could put Joseph on the Spanish throne. Which, in my opinion, was not only immoral but mostly clumsy and stupid.

It is in the nature of things that two parties directly opposed can only gain strength at the expense of each other. The reverses in Spain, the destruction of several army corps, the reflux into the interior of troops sustained and fed up to now at the expense of foreigners; the drying up of a host of pecuniary resources, the upheaval given to France by the passage of so many columns which cross it in all directions, all these facts, combined with a hundred other considerations, have weakened the party of universal destruction and strengthened, consequently, the party of interior consolidation, which is only composed of elements equally protective of us.

That’s mostly interesting to me because it alludes to the pecuniary problems Napoleon faced around that very time (or actually always during periods of peace): His army simply was way, WAY too big and a constant drain on France’s finances, even counting the enormous war recompensations the defeated enemies usually had to pay. The Bourbons on returning to France will in the end have to solve that problem that Napoleon merely dragged out as long as he could. But he was very aware of it and tried to find reasons to keep as many troops outside of France as possible, where they had to be provided for and paid by the host country.

I’m not sure if Metternich is necessarily right in everything but he was a diplomat by trade and likely to correctly evaluate his sources. Overall, it’s an interesting assessment of France’s true situation around the time of the congress of Erfurt, and before Napoleon’s Spanish campaign.

#napoleonic era #Paris 1808 #clemens metternich #spain 1808

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