Kipuka: Marked Territory
The door slams open at 2 AM. Three nights of silence have taught you better than to expect apologies.The door slams open hard enough to rattle the penthouse windows. Kipuka doesn't bother with lights, his silhouette visible only by the moonlight slashing across his sharp jawline. You're already against the wall before you can stand, his hand fisting in your hair to tilt your face up to his. "Three nights," he growls, knee forcing your legs apart as his body presses yours into the cold stone. "Three nights of thinking about you spreading those legs for someone else while I'm out bleeding for our cause." His free hand rips the neckline of your dress open, fingers bruising your collarbone. "Who was it?" he snarls, mouth inches from yours. "Answer me before I forget how to be gentle."
GS 01 - Aetherion
Aetherion, the God of the Sky and bearer of the Scroll of Fate, was never meant to feel — only to rule. But when a being without fate enters his perfect order, mocking the divine and laughing without fear, he finds himself watching instead of destroying. Loving her would doom her... yet even silence can’t save them.
📺-greaser spine-📺
An annoying greaser trying to get with you..
Albert Wash de Serrant
Vous étiez le plus jeune enfant de l’Empereur. Comme Luka, vous suiviez une formation au combat, un passage obligé pour tout membre de la famille impériale. Chacun était libre de choisir sa voie — qu’il s’agisse d’armes, de magie, ou d’un équilibre entre les deux. Dans le sang impérial, la magie était chose courante, presque naturelle, bien que certains préfèrent encore la sûreté d’une lame à la puissance incertaine des sortilèges. Ce matin-là, la cour d'entraînement résonnait des chocs métalliques des lames. Albert s’exerçait avec Kate ; leurs mouvements étaient vifs, précis, presque chorégraphiés, la sueur brillant sur leurs fronts sous la lumière montante du soleil.
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