Blood and Velvet - A Dark Gothic Romance
A dark gothic city- midnight
The camera sweeps over a city drowning in shadows, where gas lamps flicker like dying stars. The rain kisses the cobblestone streets, reflecting the blood-red glow of a distant fire. A grand estate looms on the horizon, its towering spires piercing the storm-heavy sky.
In a city where power is measured in blood and secrets, two men stand on the edge of desire… and damnation."
Inside the estate, candlelight trembles against deep crimson velvet drapes. A man—Lucien Arthur, poised and brooding—stares into a gilded mirror, his reflection whispering truths he refuses to face. Behind him, another figure emerges from the darkness—Sebastian Voss, a smirk curling his lips, eyes glinting like a wolf that’s found its prey.
Sebastian Voss
Careful, Lucien… stare into the dark too long, and it just might stare back
Lucien exhales, turning slowly, as thunder cracks across the sky. The night has only just begun…
authoryyy
Hiee cuties ...... welcome to my story ...... it's my first writing and I don't know any shit about writing a story.....
authoryyy
So if I make mistakes.....plweass ignore it like you ignore your toxic ex 😁
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while writing this, it may take time coz I m a new writer, but I will make sure that I will finish this as soon as possible.
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just stick with me and help me when I go wrong
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And yeah give your opinions on this story. I may add your thoughts also
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stay healthy and always smile
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~ INTRODUCTION ~
Name- Sebastian Voss.
Sebastian is the kind of man who never rushes, never stumbles—every movement deliberate, every word a carefully crafted game.
Rich voice that drips with mockery, charm, and the promise of something dangerous. There is a wolf-like quality
A man who has danced with death and never come away unscathed. He is calculating, ruthless when necessary.
There are whispers that he is not entirely human.
No one knows where Sebastian truly comes from. He has been called a noble, a thief, a killer, and a ghost—all of which might be true
Sebastian does not chase. He does not beg. He does not fall.
Name- Lucien Arthur.
Lucien is delicate but not fragile.
He is a man of duty over desire, intellect over impulse.
He flinches at softness yet aches for it, keeps people at arm’s length but craves the kind of closeness that could unravel him.
Lucien is not weak—far from it.
Lucien was raised in a world where image is everything, emotions are weaknesses, and control is survival.
Name- Marquis Adrien Devereaux.
The Man Who Holds the Strings.
He is Lucien uncle and the head of the Arthur family.
A man of cold calculation and brutal ambition.
Adrien Devereaux is a strategist, not a brute.
He sees emotions as weaknesses, love as a liability.
He never acts without purpose.
He values loyalty above all else.
Adrien views Lucien not as a person, but as an asset.
If Lucien refuses to obey… Adrien will ensure he has no choice.
Name- Lady Evelyn Sinclair.
The enigmatic and alluring noblewoman.
Lady Evelyn Sinclair is a whisper in the dark, a knowing smile behind a lace veil.
Lucien calls her an ally. Sebastian calls her a danger. The truth? She is both.
Evelyn is the kind of woman who never speaks more than she must, yet says everything with a glance.
Charming, but never careless.
Mysterious, but never aimless.
Dangerous, but never reckless.
She is neither fully on Lucien’s side nor Sebastian’s—she is on her own.
She is not entirely human.
Name- Rafael Belmont.
The brooding and protective former soldier.
The Blade That Never Rests.
Rafael Belmont is not a noble, not a politician, not a schemer—he is a weapon.
A man with blood on his hands, watching over one who barely understands the depths of the war he has already been thrown into.
Rafael does not waste words, does not waste time, does not waste trust. He is a man of action, not politics.
Loyal, but only to those who have earned it.
Haunted, but too disciplined to let it break him.
Protective, but in ways that are quiet, unseen. He would rather take a knife in silence than let Lucien know there was ever danger at all.
Lucien is the only person Rafael allows himself to care about, and that terrifies him
Name- Crimson Court.
A Phantom Among Nobles-
He is a whisper in the dark, a shadow in the corridors of power, a knife poised at the throat of those who cross him.
Is he an ally? A threat? A kingmaker or an executioner? No one truly knows. And that is precisely how he wants it.
Soft-spoken, but his words carry weight.
Polite, yet dangerous.
He could end you before you even registered the threat.
His presence is a contradiction—he is both a ghost and an inevitability, a man whose true power lies not in his sword, but in the strings he pulls behind the scenes.
He knows who is loyal. He knows who is not.
If Lucien, Sebastian, or even Marquis Adrien stand in his way… he will remove them. Quietly. Efficiently. Permanently.
The Ballroom of Shadows
The grand ballroom is alive with whispers and waltzes, masked figures gliding across the marble floor like ghosts. A chandelier of blood-red crystals casts fractured light across the room, illuminating the sin and secrets buried beneath polite smiles.
Lucien stands at the edge of it all, his crimson velvet coat draped over his shoulders like royalty, his eyes scanning the crowd with cold detachment. But his fingers tighten around the glass of wine in his hand—an illusion of control he barely holds onto.
A presence brushes against him. A whisper of heat, of danger.
Sebastian Voss
(low, teasing)You don’t belong in a place like this, Arthur
Lucien doesn’t turn, but his jaw tightens.
Lucien Arthur
(calm, but edged with warning)And yet, here I am. Just like you.
Sebastian steps into the light—dark curls tousled from the wind, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. His black and red embroidered coat fits him like a second skin, exuding danger and desire. He tilts his head, watching Lucien with the curiosity of a predator who already knows how the hunt will end.
Sebastian Voss
(mocking, but intrigued)
"Oh no, mon cher. I belong everywhere."
A long pause. A slow sip of wine.
Then, the music shifts—something darker, slower. A dance meant for those who don’t mind playing with fire.
Sebastian Voss
(challenging, extending a gloved hand):
Dance with me, Arthur. Unless you’re afraid of what you’ll find in the dark.
Lucien finally turns to face him, eyes sharp as glass. He takes Sebastian’s hand, and the moment their fingers intertwine, the room fades away.
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