When Rupert was certain he had lost sight of his pursuers, he slowed his run into a walk- before coming to a complete halt upon encountering a lake. Shoulders heavy with exhaustion, knowing he was covered head-to-toe in blood and mud, he dragged his feet over to the edge and knelt down, staring at his reflection coldly.

Rupert truly despised himself. To be more exact, he despised the face that was staring back at him.

He didn’t mind his skin tone or nose- they were honestly the only parts of himself that he liked, as they were features he had gotten from his mother, but his sharp green eyes and long blue hair, and the beige horns that curled around the back of his head… these were all traits he obtained from his demonic father. Parting his lips, sharp teeth revealed themselves, and Rupert let out a small growl before squeezing his eyes shut and shoving his skinny hands into the water.

Rupert didn’t understand his father, or why he came back for just a single night. Demons never visited the same person twice. And yet the bastard did, and after impregnating Rupert's mother he proceeded to leave- abandoning them once again like the monster he was. Rupert wasn’t even sure how he found them, seeing as they lived out in the middle of nowhere now.

Draven…

Just the name made Rupert want to throw up.

He wasn’t sure if demons existed before the Humans came to this land and made it their own, creating the four kingdoms in the process, or if the ancient race they had scared off had been the one thing keeping the demons away. But before anyone realized it the land had been swarming with Incubi and Succubi, as well as their half-demon offspring.

If any half-demon was found, they and their mortal parent would be immediately sentenced to death- and those that tried to help them escape were killed along with them. Over time, countermeasures would be taken to avoid any innocents from being seduced, and the demons quickly fled as a response. Only the strongest of demons dared to travel the kingdoms now in search of prey, the rest hiding in fear of the villagers and nobles wrath.

In a world of “kill or be killed” children of demons were a threat. 

And as Rupert was the result of his mother’s plan to escape the greedy grasp of Viscount Reinholf, a noble that lived in a small town neighboring Lillian Village, she and her parents worked hard to keep him safe, raising Rupert on their farm, far away from the village and those who would wish to be rid of him.

Rupert had been a good child; listening obediently to his grandparents, trying to help with the farm, and learning how to make the medicine his mother needed to stay healthy. They taught him to read and write, and after his cousin’s disappearance he ended up snooping through his medical books.

The family cat, a wild stray that always liked to wander around and catch any mice that was on the farm, would often lay against his leg, or bring him dead birds sometimes as a sign of affection. She was a cute little thing, with dark fur and little white paws. Rupert adored her with all his being. 

He didn't have any normal friends because of the isolation, his family keeping him in this tiny part of the world, hidden on the farm, for his own safety, but he had her. He would sneak her treats and scratch behind her ears, and if not for his chores he could honestly listen to her purr all day. 

It was a simple life. 

He would wake up, eat the breakfast his grandmother made, and would get to work making his mother's medicine before heading outside to help his grandparents take care of the crops and farm animals. Afterwards, he would spend the rest of his time reading or playing with the cat, who little Rupert had affectionately named "Inky". Then he would head inside the house, wash up, eat dinner, check on his mother and chat with her, and then head to bed. 

Despite the limitations of how he could live his life, he was happy. The circumstances had been explained to him so many times growing up, so he knew the dangers. He wouldn’t dare risk their lives for his own selfish curiosity. Rupert was a bright child. He liked to learn and understood things quickly. This naturally meant he was rather perceptive as well. 

But… all good things come to an end eventually.

Viscount Reinholf, who had grown obsessed with Rupert’s mother, Cassandra, finally got over his grief of her tryst with an Incubus and began to stalk her once more. It was only a matter of time before Rupert’s existence was revealed to him, and in his rage he told everyone about what he had seen.

With the farmhouse burning around them and Cassandra holding eleven-year-old Rupert’s hand, the grandparents gave their lives so their beloved daughter and grandson could escape.

It’s been a struggle to survive ever since.

And Cassandra, who has been sickly ever since the moment she first conceived Rupert, has only grown weaker. Her condition has left him anxious, his worry only becoming stronger with each passing day. To make matters worse, she was forty now- which meant her pregnancy was even riskier than it would be with just her illness.

He had told her multiple times he didn’t require a sibling; he was fine with it being just them, but she was stubborn, refusing to listen to a word he said. She always said it was necessary for him to have a sibling and that she was certain he’d make a fine older brother.

Brows furrowing in frustration, Rupert stood and ruffled his hair, groaning as he started to march off in the direction of their shabby wooden hut. “Why did that bastard have to go and get her pregnant again…? Why did she let him!?”

That’s it. Rupert’s decided.

“I’m gonna punch him. If I punch him the next time he appears, he might finally leave her alone.”

It’s the perfect plan. Just because Rupert doesn’t like using violence doesn’t mean he won’t resort to it, and bastards should get what bastards deserve. That said, his mother really won’t be happy if she finds out about it…

“Maybe I won’t punch the Incubus.” He muttered, clicking his tongue, despising his conscience from talking him out of this. “Just for her. Though he would definitely deserve it.”

She’s going to be angry enough when she sees his new scar. Stress is bad for the baby… and for her.

Oh, why is being a good son so hard?

Hanging his head, Rupert let out a deflated sigh. “I’m so not ready for this conversation…”