Claude Frollo Fanart Novels & Stories

The nurse's hands are trembling as she hands me the "Body and Cornea Donation Consent Form". She asks, "Mr. Stone, is Stellan's mother coming?" I gently wipe the blood from my son's lips and slowly shake my head. "No. She's saving someone else's child." My son, Stellan Stone, is born with a complex congenital heart defect. My wife, Sharon Claude, is the youngest cardiothoracic surgeon in the country. Five years ago, she tells me she's going overseas to study the most advanced surgical techniques so she can come back and perform Stellan's operation herself. For the past five years, she has sent home research papers, case studies, and handwritten surgery plans. She always says, "Just w

Content Warning: Smut, Smut and Smut. “Whose cock made you cry the loudest tonight?” Lucien’s voice was a low snarl as he gripped my jaw, forcing my mouth open. “Yours,” I gasped, my voice wrecked from screaming. “Alpha, please—” Silas’s fingers dug into my hips as he slammed back inside me, rough and unrelenting. “Liar,” he growled against my spine. “She sobbed on mine.” “Should we make her prove it?” Claude said, his fangs grazing my throat. “Tie her up again. Let her beg with that pretty mouth until we decide she’s earned our knots.” I was trembling, dripping, used—and all I could do was moan, “Yes, please. Use me again.” And they did. Like they always do. Like they can’

My mate, Andrew Claude, is the Alpha of the Celestial Pack, the sworn rival of my father’s Venus Pack. For three years, we have hidden our bond, knowing that our union could either bring peace between the packs or ignite war. On Lunar Year's Eve, beneath the full moon’s silver glow, we stand on the castle terrace, whispering promises of our future. Tonight, we finally agree to perform our bonding ritual, sealing our fates before revealing our love to our parents. My wolf stirs in anticipation, her instincts urging me toward him. But then, Andrew leaps down into the grand fire-dance festival, his powerful wolf form shifting mid-air before landing in a flourish. The scent of burning pine and