#oh lucian................

[wolfziedraws]

POV you're the TV in Vic's guest house

[herlondonboy]

Secret’s Out

Pairings: Rowan Laslow x gn!reader / Xavier Thorpe x enemy/ex!reader

Summary: Nevermore’s heir falls for the outcasted Outcast.

Warnings: Xavier is a bit of a bitch, slapping, suggestive themes, tooth-rotting fluff. Rowan’s nicknames are Obi-Wan and Row Boat because I said so. (Tagging @unfixqble)

Word Count: 0.7k

You were the crowned royalty of Nevermore, the school for Outcasts. Both literally and figuratively. Your great (x whatever) grandparents founded the school and you always got the highest scores in class. Everyone praised the ground you walked on. Once you accidentally bumped into someone and before you could apologise, they mumbled out sorries and kissed your shoes. You had to deliver an assembly on why kissing people’s shoes was wrong, weird, and downright disgusting.

But with you being, well, you, it came as a shock to the whole school when you turned down Xavier Thorpe’s proposal. He was the only one in the entire school that could even compare to you. But the news of you dating Rowan Laslow, the outcast of the Outcasts, made the school tremble. Seriously, there was an earthquake the day everyone found out. Pathetic fallacy at its finest.

Rowan rushed up to you the day after with scarlet filled cheeks and watery eyes. “I swear I didn’t tell anyone.” He said hurriedly and you scrunched your eyes together before widen them. “y/n?”

Your eyes wrinkled at the sides as you smiled widely, dimples on full display. “I don’t care that everyone knows, Obi-Wan.” You tiptoed up so you could kiss his lips. All of his worries flowed away with that single kiss until people surrounded you. Some booed, some cheered and clapped, but it was all static in your ears. “C’mon.” You held out your hand.

Rowan gave a lopsided grin and took your hand as you pushed through the crowd. The two of you were on cloud nine. Somehow even more in love with the other than before. Nothing could bring you down.

Nothing apart from Xavier.

A stack of papers dropped onto your desk whilst you were waiting for your History teacher. You looked up in confusion, meeting Xavier’s hard glare. Before you could speak up he raised his hand, stopping you. “That’s why you won’t date me?” He scoffed. “Rowan Laslow of all people?”

“Back off, Xavier.” You rolled your eyes. “I won’t date you because I’m not attracted to you.”

“Bullshit!” Xavier slammed his hands down on the drawings, paintings, and photos he dropped onto your table. “Did he drug you? Is this some fucked up Harry Potter thing?” He asked.

“Humble yourself, Xavi.” You stood up, pointing at him. She waved it away and in retaliation, you slapped him.

The whole class gasped as you retracted your hand in shock. Xavier looked at you, holding his cheek. “Fuck you.” He spat, storming out of the class.

-

You were lying on Rowan’s chest later that night, watching a movie on his laptop. You thought for a second, drawing circles on his abs with your finger before mumbling, “You know I love you more than anything, right?”

You heard Rowan laugh slightly, kissing your head. “I know. And I love you more, my moon.”

You smiled at his words, melting into him. “Wrong. I love you most.” You looked up at him with a grin, giving him a peck on the lips.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.” You nodded surely.

“Prove it then.” Rowan murmured, kissing you.

You rose your eyebrows at him as he smirked. You scoffed, straddling him and kissing his neck. “You like that?” You asked after you left a hickey, gaining a moan from the boy underneath you.

He nodded, looking at you with a lustful gaze. “I love you more than you’ll ever know.” He whispered, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You grounded down on his crotch, causing him to groan and blush. “y/n…”

“What is it, baby?” You asked, rasping, lips pecking and nibbling on his neck. “Use your words.”

“Please.” Rowan begged before the door slammed open with a bang. You jumped, falling into the floor as Rowan covered his top half. “Miss Weems.” He said in embarrassment.

“Excuse me. I don’t mean to barge in here, but the two of you know the rules. After nine o’clock, you stay in your own dorms.” Headmistress Weems said accusingly. “y/n, allow me to escort you to your dormitory.”

“Ms. Weems, I-“ You stopped at the look she gave you. “Bye, Row Boat.” You mumbled, kissing Rowan softly

“y/n.” Weems said sternly when the kids started to deepen.

You groaned and pulled away, whispering another ’goodbye’ before being lectured on all the way to the other side of the school.

[evilfloralfoolery]

Love Bites - Part 2

Like the title says. ;)

**Also, make sure you realize that werewolves and vampires are creatures that feast on blood and flesh. If this type of thing bothers you, this fic is not for you. There's going to be blood. Curate your internet experience accordingly.

Please see the end of the fic for translations and such fuckery.

Enjoy!

____________________________

Like himself, Marrok is a creature of the night, so there is no surprise in Lucian when he awakens at dusk to find the werewolf still sleeping beside him.  Not that Lucian himself truly “slept.”  The slumber of a vampire was more of a deep, meditative void.  He had gone weeks without “sleeping.”  Now, it was a sort of indulgence to lie beside his lover, who did still require rest.  

At least it had been as such, until this vile misfortune had been foisted upon him. Now, resting was a necessity until the wretched foolishness of his body had healed itself.  Exactly when that might be, he did not know.

Marrok grumbles in his sleep and rolls onto his side, one arm flopping across Lucian’s body.  Whether it is the werewolf’s need for “pack behavior” or a true desire to be close does not matter.  Lucian takes the opportunity just the same.  

He curls against Marrok’s bare chest, lulled by the steady, pulsing rhythm of his heart.  That is, until his own body decides upon retribution.  Always at the most insufferable and inconvenient of times.

There is no time to grope for his handkerchief, no time to pull away. Instead, he must contend with the indecency of steepling his hands over his nose and mouth, muffling a poorly constrained “--nnkgSSCHuh!” into their confines. 

The slumbering cadence of Marrok’s breathing stops.

“Je suis désolée, mon cher,” Lucian says from behind the cover of his hands. “I am stihh–still—-hhhuuhIKGSSSCH-U! Ugh, mon dieu.”

Marrok chuckles. “Hmn, I’d ask if you’re dying, but–”

“Ferme ta gueule,” Lucian says, which only earns him a louder, much more pointed laugh.

“Make me.”  Marrok grabs Lucian’s wrists, tugging his hands away from his face.  “And quit it with the hands.” 

Lucian huffs. “Would you rather I show such indecency to your bare chest, then?”

“Yeah,” Marrok says.  “I would.” 

Rough, calloused palms cup his face and Marrok kisses him with such passionate vigor that Lucian moans against his mouth.  Purely involuntary, of course. 

“I’d like to fuck the starlight out of you right now.”  Marrok runs his tongue over Lucian’s bottom lip.  “But I’ve got wolf shit to do.”

“Do you?”  Lucian’s hand wanders between the werewolf’s legs, nails scraping his inner thigh.  “What sorrow for you.” 

“Goddamn it.” Chills march up Marrok’s arm and it is now Lucian’s turn to chuckle. 

“You began this.  The fault is yours.” 

In the distance, a chorus of howls too vocally eerie to be mere wolves escalates and Marrok grumbles.  “They’re doing stupid shit.  I gotta go.” 

Lucian withdraws his hand and sits up with a pointed sniffle. “I will try not to be too unwell in your absence.” 

Marrok rolls his eyes.  “Whatever. I’m going to go kill something.” 

One golden eyebrow arches. “Something or someone?”

“Does it matter?” Marrok crosses the distance back to the balcony and hops onto the ornate rail. 

“It does, if one has taste.” 

Marrok makes a show of extending both middle fingers. “Taste this.” 

He vaults over the side of the balcony and lands somewhere in the courtyard, disappearing into the underbrush before Lucian can track his movements.

_______________________________

By the time Marrok returns, darkness has fallen to the fullest extent, the air heavy with the scent of night blooming jasmine and fresh oleander.  

And the metallic sweetness of fresh blood. 

“I take it your hunt was successful.” Lucian files the edges of one nail into a fastidious point and sits back to admire the shape for a moment. 

“Yes.” 

One side of Marrok's face is coated in slick, glistening crimson, brutal to some, but alluring to the vampire.  How fortunate was he to have such a magnificent creature to indulge and woo. 

Upon noticing Lucian’s amorous stare, the werewolf tilts his head with a smirk. “You like what you see?” 

“Oui. J'adore votre folie.” Lucian sets the file down and rises to his feet. “Now, kiss me while the taste of life is still fresh upon your lips.”

“Mmn, that's hot,”  Marrok says. 

And he complies readily. Eagerly. While there are plenty of deer and other prey in the nearby woods, tonight's feast has been human. Lucian can taste it, can see the flicker of images within his lover's mind. 

A man with intent to do far more than follow a young woman home. Another with an abhorrent collection of photos from those who did not give consent. 

But of course. Beneath the simmering rage and bluster lurked a vigilante dressed in fur and fangs. Not that Marrok would ever admit to such a thing. 

Just as Lucian was loath to admit the stupidity that had caused his current condition.  While Marrok's accusations had been false for the most part, Lucian had placated him the falsehood of ignorance when questioned about how he had managed to become so suddenly ill.

Lucian was more than aware of how it had come to pass.  Despite popular folklore, sunlight would not destroy him. Too much exposure to it would, however, prove to be terrible for his well being. Hunting during the day was not his preference, but at times, nature proved to be stronger than common sense. 

And speaking of such things, his sinuses saw fit to remind him of his idiocy several times an hour. Obviously, he is now somehow overdue. 

He places a hand upon Marrok's bare chest to indicate his need for distance. “Ah, pardon. I am-hhhuuh!” He fights the urge for all of three seconds before managing to tug his handkerchief free of his sleeve, where he had tucked it away for easy access. “IHSSSCHu! Hhhhhiiiih-hhh-uuh. . . ! HhhISSSCCH–UUH!’  The hand switches to light upon his own chest, as if he must do so to catch his breath. “Mon dieu! My apologies.”

“Huh.” Marrok studies him with a furrowed brow. “You really are sick.” 

“Why such surprise? I told you as much myself.” Lucian muffles another wrenching sneeze into the folds of the cloth. “I have abused many handkerchiefs while you were away.”

“Oh yeah?” Darkness swallows the yellow of Marrok's eyes until only a slight ring remains. “How many?”

“More than you have fingers, mon cher.”

“Fuuuck,” Marrok says with such soft, vehement feeling that Lucian chuckles.  

He does not, however, return his lips to their previous plundering. Instead, he buries his face in Lucian's mess of golden waves and inhales the scent of him like he is somehow drawing sustenance from it. 

“You haven't fed.” Marrok’s voice is almost tender for a moment before it is replaced with his signature sass. “You want some of this?” He gestures to himself with a saucy grin. 

“You have spent much time hunting,” Lucian says. “No harm will come to me if I do not. . . “ His words trail into nothingness, for Marrok has dragged his nail over his wrist, slicing the sun-bronzed skin just enough for a thin rivulet of blood to drip from his fingers. 

“Come on.” Marrok runs his tongue up the side of his hand, his lips wet with a vermillion shine. “You know I taste good.” 

Lucian rakes a hand through hair with a huff. “Putain de merde.” 

That gets a raucous laugh from Marrok, who soon finds himself pinned to the wall, an arm across his throat and fingers twisted into that unruly mane that has the audacity to call itself “hair.” 

“You want my neck instead? Do you, Lucian?” He tilts his head to one side in invitation. “Do it.” 

Marrok's heartbeat calls to him, a slow and steady throb without fear or dread. 

All restraint is lost.

Lucian sinks his fangs into the flesh, the hot pulse of life rushing over his tongue, filling his senses and reviving him like no mortal blood can manage.  Marrok tastes of savage magic, of wildness and defiance, as rich as the finest indulgence and bolder than any wine could ever muster.

He takes only enough to bring warmth to his skin and quell the odd chill that seems to have settled deep within his bones somehow. 

But Marrok does not move away. 

“You didn't take much.”

“It was enough.” 

“It wasn’t enough.” 

Already, the small punctures on Marrok's throat have begun to heal, a true testament to his preternatural nature. 

Lucian doesn't bother to wipe the blood from his lips or address the fact that it has left a wet trail down his chest.  Instead, he slips the few remaining buttons away from their holes and allows the shirt to slide from his shoulders and onto the ground. The way Marrok’s gaze follows his every move is more than appreciative, it is predatory.  Hungry for a different manner of satiation. 

“Is there something that you desire to taste?” Lucian glances over his shoulder, strands of his flaxen hair adhered to his cheek by Marrok’s own essence.  “Something you wish to devour?”

Marrok snorts.  “Fuck you.”

But the words are a teasing retort and not the anger that had so fiercely gripped him earlier. 

Marrok stalks him like prey, his stare steady and penetrating, head lowered, breathing deep and controlled. Before he can pin Lucian to the bed, the vampire is suddenly behind him, an arm around his throat in a reverse strangle hold. 

“Since you have such concern for my well being, mon amour, I will satisfy your curiosities.”  He hefts the much larger, snarling werewolf into his arms, as if he is a mere wisp of a being and tosses him onto the bed where he lands with a most ungraceful thud. 

It is Lucian who does the holding now, pinning Marrok's shoulders to the bed sheets.

“Ah, je suis désolée.” Lucian chuckles with dark repose as he runs a finger down Marrok's nose, pausing to tap the tip. “Did you want to be on top?”

To his rather sadistic amusement, Marrok does not struggle, choosing instead to lace his fingers behind his head and stretch beneath Lucian's body. 

“Nah,” Marrok says with a smirk. “I'll just chill here and let you please me.”  

He does, however, fist a handful of Lucian's blood-and-flaxen waves, jerking his head to one side. “Don't bite my dick.” 

Lucian laughs with such improper lunacy that the birds perched on the balcony railing scatter into the night sky. 

_____________________

TBC . . . .

Mon dieu - My god Oui. J'adore votre folie - Yes. I adore your madness Mon cher - My dear/My darling Ferme ta gueule- Shut your mouth Putain de merde - Fucking hell (or what the fuck, in other contexts) Mon amour - My love Je suis désolée - I am sorry

[tyrannuspitch]

top five. thor image.

EXCELLENT QUESTION

in chronological order:

baby boy. baby. also evil. sooo young and sweet and idealistic and um. this can't be right. genocidal?

2. becoming his father but don't worry about it! nothing sinister happening here! CH's acting is often hard to capture in stills but in this scene he looks and sounds like he's holding back tears, and he's lying through his teeth (including to himself) about odin being a good dad. and then odin (several thousand years deeper in the same emotional repression) gives him this cold little pat on the shoulder and is like right that's enough parenting for this century.

3. entering the avengers like it's a horror movie and he is the monster!!! mirrors loki's entry because they are The Same <3 extremely undead of him, too. ghost AND frankenstein.

4. codependent twin moment. there is a Hollow at thor's right hand. there is a Missing Piece that mirrors him perfectly. he's not meant to admit it any more, but he can't escape it either. no matter how it hurts he sees his brother in everything and always will <3

5. this specific face. in context this is fucking haunting trust me

[josephslittledeputy]

Lucian & Celeste || Wes & Celeste || Sel & Sidra Endymion & Sparrow (W/hand & w/o. Couldn't decide which I liked more, so I just included them both lol) || Daryl & Hanna (TWD)

Tagged by the wonderful and lovely @inafieldofdaisies @carlosoliveiraa @marivenah to do this cute couple picrew, thank you!

Tagging @clicheantagonist @strafethesesinners @skoll-sun-eater @g0dspeeed @shallow-gravy

@adelaidedrubman @henbased

[batteryrose]

i wanted to draw elfrind (OC), chevalier and Lucian but i am tired sleepy so i drew them in a cute style or whatever

[snixx]

the 39 clues girlies are having a field day in the notes of a post I made months ago and all I can do is gaze upon them fondly as I remember the most passionate late lover of my life

[archersgoon]

to be fair to lucian he is right here. in that constance and sandrine would've just enacted a swift and brutal revenge then considered themselves even until the next time he tried some shit

[vice-president-galade]

I wish we got to see more interaction between Ciara and Lucian. They're foils to each other -- the two "unmarried" (cough cough) members of the administration, both tirelessly dedicated to their work and willing to go beyond their immediate roles. He does support her education reforms -- it's one of the few times he gives an opinion based on his own beliefs, not what's politically expedient. But they are complete opposites in their approach to policy -- Ciara is the uncompromising idealistic firebrand and of course Lucian is Mr. Art of the Possible.

Lucian has a handful of (mildly) misogynistic moments, but Ciara at least calls him out on one of them:

And when they start arguing about teaching evolution, it's the only time I can remember that he raises his voice (aside from when you refuse to investigate Livia, when he gets "unhinged").

He goes back and forth a bit with some of the other cabinet members, but not to this extent. And then the meeting ends on this amazingly bitchy moment:

In my headcanon second term, Lucian, Ciara and Nia are Anton's inner circle, and Nia and Anton are constantly having to referee between the two of them. (Buuuut ultimately they have a lot of love and respect for each other because it's my headcanon and I can make it hopelessly idealized if I want)

[vonlipvig]

might fuck around and turn more suzerain characters into women btw

[littlcfreaks]

@blccmngs continued from here

if you had asked him even two weeks ago that if not hearing from parrish for two days would have worried him, easily he would have been able to say no. be able to easily brush the question off. now his chest was constricting with worry after 38 hours and after 48, he was showing up at parrish's house, finding an unlocked door (he made a note to lecture parrish about his safety later). no sign of him at first, but his keys were on the counter, so he ventured further in, into parrish's now familiar bedroom, "oh, baby." the familiar light in parrish's eyes was dimmed when he looked over, acknowledging lucian's presence and he wasn't really sure if he was allowed to be here, if he was allowed to stay, but parrish didn't shove him away so he dropped onto the bed, laying next to him, "shut up and come over here." his arms snake around parrish's waist, tugging him against his chest, one hand cradling his head, "why didn't you call me, dumbass?" his fingers a stark contrast to his words, smoothing over parrish's hair, "have you had anything to eat?"

[self-shipper-snowdrop]

I have been doing many a doodle this month because those [x]tober prompt lists are very fun! SO here's some from one prompt list, not caught up because I'm doing three at the same time ^^; stress drawing and all. They are the below, they're from 2024's inktober prompts [the list kinda sucks but I try to match]

Prompts vs characters, in order [note some are more metaphorical interpretations of words]:

ROW 1 Backpack - Rosaire / Discover - Masae / Boots / Ruby

ROW 2 Exotic - Sola / Binoculars - Hella / Trek - Mercy

ROW 3 Passport - Mayu / Hike - Sitri / Sun - Mike

ROW 4 Nomadic - Dawn / Snacks - Arseni / Remote - Lucian

ROW 5 Horizon - Anastasia / Roam - Atreus / Guidebook - Wednesday

ROW 6 Grungy - Arete / Journal - Axel

[crowlore]

look as much as manga wolfwood is my forever angel i do still constantly miss anime wolfwood. he just didn’t get nearly crazy enough with it. and by it? well. let’s just say. [holds up the page where he eats glass]

[isame-allen]

How about Lucian? Idc who he's with I just want Lucian :)))

I too want Lucian

[ayyponine]

art update fr april part 2/2

[mintmentos]

The constant wearing each others clothes, the ring in the bottom of the box calling out to emmett, the rose from the courtyard and the rose at the wedding, the unsettling feeling of memories of a relationship compared to the new memories meeting that person as if for the first time and having these coexist