#arcane unusual

[fantastic-fr-scries]

Aether Female

Lavender / Eggplant / Heather , Cinder / Flair / Sparkle

Arcane Unusual

[crying-workshop]

Aether Hatchling

Grape Cinder / Fuchsia Thread / Amethyst Stinger

Arcane Unusual

[multiverseanimecrossover]

Collage of the ideas for my chaotic Main Female Protagonist~!

My strange girl protagonist, I don't have a name for her and I'm struggling internally!

[hyperesthesias]

E V O L U T I O N

a playlist for viktor and the machine herald.

my body is a cage. // augmentation. // terrible lie [extended remix]. // given up. // blasphemous rumours. // another version of the truth. // saturn. // dido's lament.

[scryingworkshop]

[serpentandlily]

Arcane - Azriel x Reader

Azriel x DeathGod!Reader

Summary: Azriel never thought he’d find his mate, was convinced the Mother hadn’t even given him one because he was unworthy. That is, until he stumbles upon his mate while looking for the most unusual ally.

Based on this request.

Warnings: very brief illusion to past SA

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“We’ve exhausted all our options,” Rhys declared, dropping his head into his hands. “I’m afraid another war is on the horizon. Koschei cannot be dealt with alone.”

“I don’t understand. The weaver and the bone carver were able to be killed,” Cassian interjected. “Why is it impossible for us to find a way to kill Koschei?”

“It took the might of the cauldron to defeat them,” Rhys explained.

“Well, then let’s ask Miriam and Drakon if we can use the cauldron,” Cassian replied, giving the obvious answer.

“It would be no use,” Feyre sighed. “I destroyed the book. We’d have no idea how to cast the spell the King of Hybern used that day. And we risk Koschei, himself, getting his hands on the cauldron.”

“There’s got to be another way,” Mor chimed in. “Something, someone, that could be as powerful as the sorcerer himself. He wasn’t the only God that found their way to Prythian.”

“Most of them are locked up in the Prison,” Rhys said. “And the Prison would not allow us to free any of them even if we wanted to.”

“Az, how has your search for Bryaxis been going?” Feyre asked.

“Not good,” Azriel answered honestly. “It’s like that thing disappeared from Prythian entirely.”

The room was silent for a moment until Amren sat up straight. “Wait, there is someone we could go to for help. As a last resort.”

Rhys lifted his head, staring at her with a heavy resolve. “No, absolutely not. It is too dangerous.”

“You said it yourself, we’re out of options!”

“What are you two talking about?” Feyre asked, looking between them.

Rhys let out a long breath. “Bryaxis…had a sibling. If you could even call her that. Someone who also came from wherever he slipped through from.”

“And why haven’t you mentioned this before?” Mor asked with a glare, crossing her arms.

“Because,” Rhys started. “Like I said, it’s too dangerous to get into contact with her. She’s…well, to be honest, no one really knows much about her. She keeps herself in a dark cave somewhere in the middle. Likes the darkness as much as Bryaxis does.”

“If no one knows much about her, then how do you know she’s dangerous?” Feyre asked. “Everyone was scared of Bryaxis until I went down there and was helped by it.”

“I’ve been told stories of her from my father,” Rhys explained. “How in the past, long before any of us were born, she could cause the fall of entire armies. Could level any court into rubble and dust.”

“And if that’s true, then doesn’t it speak to her character that she hasn’t done any of that? Maybe she is good of heart,” Mor suggested.

“We’re out of options, Rhys,” Amren said. “She might be our last hope.”

“Fine,” Rhys sighed. “I guess we better get ready for a trip to the middle.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Alright, maybe this was a bad idea.”

Azriel glanced at Cassian to see him frowning as they stood in front of the dark cave. It was just him, Cass and Rhys who had come here to try and find this creature to ask for help. But it seemed Cassian was already losing his nerve.

“I tried to tell you,” Rhys muttered under his breath. “Azriel, can you scout ahead with your shadows?”

As soon as those words left Rhysand’s mouth, Azriel’s shadows darted ahead, trailing into the cave in a flurry. Azriel’s eyes widened as he was left standing completely bare, exposed. Not a single shadow had stayed with him, which was unusual. He tried to brush it off, tried to hide how uncomfortable he felt without them.

They waited expectantly but his shadows never returned. Azriel’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“I can’t call them back,” he said to his two brothers watching him. “They aren’t listening to me.”

“That’s…unusual,” Rhysand said, stroking his jaw.

Nothing more was said as the darkness in the cave seemed to grow and grow, almost extending out towards them despite the sun overhead.

“Who are you?”

The feminine voice was sensual yet sweet, playful almost. Nothing like he had been expecting. It struck something inside of Azriel, making his chest ache. Rhysand stood up straight, switching from brother to the High Lord in a mere second.

“I am Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court,” Rhys answered, plucking a piece of lint from his coat. “If my sources are right, I believe you are y/n, sister of Bryaxis.”

“That I am,” the voice answered. “Why are you here? No one ever dares come here.”

Those words might’ve seemed like a threat, but her tone was light, curious.

“We’ve come to beg a boon,” Rhysand answered honestly. “There is another Death God who threatens war. We have been unable to stop his efforts.”

“Nobody has ever asked for my help before,” the voice said back in that same curious tone. “And what of Bryaxis. Will they help as well?”

“Bryaxis…Bryaxis was freed by my High Lady. We have been unable to find them.”

A step in the darkness. Another. Light footsteps came closer and closer to the edge of the cave. Azriel’s heart rate picked up, his hand falling to truth-teller. Cassian’s face was white and he looked ready to flee.

“You are afraid.”

It was not a question. Just a statement. But Rhysand answered it like it was.

“Bryaxis is made of nightmares,” he explained. “Something so terrifying to us. Perhaps you do not see it the same way but I imagine you are much the same and that is why we are…nervous.”

A laugh. A light, lilting laugh. Something sparked in Azriel’s chest.

“Me and Bryaxis are not made of the same thing, but opposite. A balance for our world,” the voice said. “Bryaxis is made of nightmares but I am made of dreams.

“Then why do you hide in the shadows?” The question came out of Azriel’s mouth before he even realized he was speaking. He could see his own shadows now, twirling in the darkness as if they were home.

“When we were captured, Bryaxis caused them fear so they were locked below the earth.” Her voice was sadder now, more serious and Azriel found himself hating that. “But I-I caused them…something different than fear. So they kept me locked in their bed chambers for decades, centuries, until I was able to escape. But then I learned those that did not desire me, feared me instead for the same reason. I was either caged or hunted. That is why I hide here.”

A shiver ran down Azriel’s spine. His face hardened at what she was implying. The fae who had captured the two Gods had locked one beneath the library and had used the other for…He felt sick to his stomach.

“If you are to help us,” Rhysand spoke, “I can promise you that we have no intention of keeping you locked up at all.”

“I do not trust the fae. Bind your words to magic and perhaps I will help you in return.”

“What is it that you want from us?”

It was silent for a moment, as if she were pondering.

“A place to stay. A place to live. Somewhere safe from being hunted or kept as a prisoner. A chance to live in this world, outside of this cave. To get to experience all that you do. That is what I wish for.”

Azriel knew that wish. Knew it all too well. For it was one he had for years while being locked in his father’s dungeon. So maybe that is why he found himself stepping closer to the cave, found himself unafraid of the darkness that had captured his own shadows.

Maybe that was why those words slipped out of his mouth before he could think of the repercussions, before he could be held back by one of his brothers.

“I will promise you that, y/n. I will promise you the opportunity to experience life outside of this cage, outside of the darkness.”

He could feel the heavy stares from his brothers on his back but he didn’t turn around, didn’t look anywhere but that darkness, even though he felt so exposed without his shadows.

Another footstep.

And another.

Until a figure began to emerge from the darkness, finally stepping into the light.

Azriel’s breathed hitched, his eyes widening in surprise. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it hadn’t been this.

Because before him now stood the most beautiful female he had ever seen. The type of beauty only a Goddess could possess. The type of beauty that had his head spinning, had his heart palpitating in his chest.

She smiled and he felt the whole world pause in that moment. It was a sight that would bring any male to his knees. A sight that could start wars.

She held out a small, delicate hand.

“Then I will help you, shadowsinger,” she said.

He mindlessly took her hand in his, shaking it as the sting of magic burned on both of their skin forming a bargain tattoo on the inner wrist. He looked down at it to see what the magic had created out of their promise to each other.

Swirls of shadows with a small lunar moth emerging at the end. A creature that sought light, finally leaving the darkness.

When he met her eyes again, those beautiful expressive eyes, he stumbled back a step. Stumbled as a golden thread unwound itself in his chest and pierced straight through the universe to the female standing before him.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The battle lasted thirty-seven days. Koschei was defeated, the females he had spelled were freed. Beron had been exposed for helping him and was killed by Eris finally, bringing a new leader to Autumn.

And things were finally at peace.

“What are these again?”

Your index finger poked at the spongy thing on your plate. It smelled sweet, good. And it was warm to the touch. You glanced up to see the shadowsinger watching you, amused.

“Those are pancakes,” Azriel answered with a chuckle.

“Pancakes,” you repeated, slowly, testing the word on your tongue. “I thought cakes were desserts. Not breakfast.”

“They are a bit different from cake. Made in a pan instead of baked in the oven, hence the name,” Azriel explained.

You hummed in response, taking a bite out of one of the pancakes. “Hm, just as sweet as cake.”

“I might’ve added a bit more sugar than normal to them,” Azriel said, rubbing the back of his neck. “To satisfy that raging sweet tooth of yours.”

Your cheeks heated, that ticklish feeling in your stomach came again. A feeling you had never felt before this month and still had yet to make sense of. It made something in your chest ache when you looked at Azriel.

“You made these?”

Azriel nodded. “Someone slept through breakfast with the others.”

Your cheeks turned even redder.

“You should’ve woken me up,” you muttered before stuffing more bits of pancake into your mouth.

“You deserve to rest, y/n.” Azriel was still watching you with that little glint in his eyes. “After everything, you deserve to rest.”

Since coming to Velaris to help with Koschei, Azriel had been the one to show you around, to help you learn the customs of the fae. He had so much patience for you and your endless amounts of questions.

The others had helped you as well, had welcomed you into their home with open arms, but there was just something special about Azriel. You felt some sort of pull towards him. As if the darkness inside of you called to his.

He was beautiful, more than any God or male you’d ever seen before. And beneath his icy exterior, he was sweet and kind. Thoughtful. Witty.

You enjoyed being with the others but you preferred times like this, when it was just the two of you. He was less shy, more at ease, when it was just you. And something about that made you happy.

Seeing him smile, even when it was just the faintest expression, brought you joy like you’ve never felt before.

And Gods, he brought out so many emotions you had not felt in a very long time, some you hadn’t even known you could feel. You had begun to crave his presence. Desire it. You wondered if he felt the same.

“Did you still want to come with me to the city today?”

Azriel’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. That’s right, Azriel had cryptically told you he needed to pick something up from Velaris today. When you had asked him what he was getting, he had refused to answer.

“Yes, I would like to.”

“We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”

An hour later, you found yourself in Azriel’s arms, flying down to the city. Your heart was pounding in your chest at how closely he held you, like he was afraid you’d suddenly fall from his arms. You kept your own arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

You still remembered the few hours after the last battle. The showdown with Koschei had left you depleted, covered in wounds, but otherwise okay. Still, Azriel had burst into your tent with panicked eyes and only seemed to be calmed when you had let him tend to you like a mother hen.

You didn’t know what to make of his behavior. But you did know that being in his arms made you feel safe.

“Can we get more of those honey mooncakes on the way back?” you asked, trying to distract yourself from the ticklish feeling in your stomach again.

Azriel laughed, his chest rumbling against your body as he tightened his grip on you. “That sweet tooth of yours really is insatiable.”

“I didn’t get to finish mine from last time,” you said in defense for yourself. “Cassian got to them before me!”

“Well, next time tell Cassian to go get his own,” Azriel said. His breath ghosted against the tip of your ear, causing a trail of goosebumps on your skin. “I buy them for you, not him.”

Once again, you found yourself with red cheeks and a swelling heart. Ever since he had discovered your sweet tooth, Azriel had a habit of leaving sweet treats out for you. At first, he found it hilarious that a Death Goddess craved pastries of all things. But now he found it just downright adorable.

When the two of you returned to the House of Wind, you found Feyre and Mor waiting for you. You barely got out a small goodbye to Azriel before they were pulling you away, telling you it was time to start getting ready for the night.

Tonight was Starfall. Something you hadn’t seen in centuries. The girls helped you get ready as day turned to dusk and finally night.

“Come on, we’re going to be late,” Mor giggled, leading all of you out of the room and up to the main balcony. You could already hear the crowd and the music.

You felt nervous as you reached the top, your eyes instantly darting around to find that one person you were always looking for these days.

Azriel stood with Rhysand and Cassian, dressed in all black, finely tailored pants and a matching coat. He looked handsome, yet still beautifully lethal. The darkness and light bounced off the elegant planes of his face, causing his hazel eyes to glow golden.

When he caught sight of you, those eyes widened and you felt them roam your entire body. You’d always hated being looked at in such a way, but not with Azriel. Never with him.

In fact, you found yourself getting heated under his stare.

Rhysand and Cassian moved to their respective mates, leaving you to greet Azriel alone. He took your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You are stunning,” he whispered. “Absolutely stunning. Happy Starfall.”

You blushed. “Thank you.”

Azriel gave you a rare smile that had your heart pounding. You peered at the crowd, watching the faeries enjoying their evening. Azriel stood with you, his fingers brushing against yours in a comforting gesture. He knew you weren’t the biggest fan of crowds, not when your presence was met with so many stares of both fear and desire.

“What are they doing?” You looked at the crowd of faeries that seemed to all be paired off, moving to the music from the band.

Azriel’s lips twitched, like they always did when you asked him a question like this. “They’re dancing.”

“Dancing,” you repeated. The word sounded familiar, like something you had known in a past life. You had spent so many years in that cave, you had turned into a mere shadow of who you used to be.

“Would you like to dance?”

Azriel had turned to look down at you, running a hand through his hair. His shadows curled around his wings.

“I don’t think I know how,” you whispered.

He held out his hand to you. “That’s alright. You can follow me lead.”

You bit your lip but decided to take his hand. He had promised you a chance of experiencing the world as it should be. He hadn’t led you astray yet.

He pulled you to the dance floor and you mimicked the other pairs, keeping one hand in his and placing the other on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around your waist, yanking you closer to him.

The music started up again and Azriel began to lead you through the dance. It was easier than you thought it would be or perhaps he was just a good lead. Still, it wasn’t long before you were smiling and being twirled around in his arms.

You danced like that for a while, basking in the feeling. The soft music, the laughter, the gentle faelights above you. You had never felt so alive. And it was all thanks to the male who held you in his arms.

A slower song came on, some pairs leaving the dance floor. You looked around in question until you realized the pairs who had remained held a more intimate position. You copied them, placing your arms around Azriel’s neck.

Both of his arms wrapped around you now, resting on your lower back.

“Is this okay?” He leaned down to whisper in your ear.

You nodded, letting him drag you even closer until your bodies were pressed together. The dress you were wearing was thin and you could feel all of him through it. His hard chest, his sculpted muscles.

Azriel swallowed audibly, swaying you gently to the music. You laid your head on his chest, letting him rest his chin on top of your head. Every inch of you that touched him was on fire.

You closed your eyes for a moment, just letting yourself feel this, embrace it. You’d never felt like this before. So warm and light. It felt like it was just you and him that existed.

That is until you opened your eyes. You suddenly felt overwhelmed as you noticed lingering stares. A lot of them. You felt uncomfortable under the weight of them.

“What’s wrong?”

Azriel had some sort of sixth sense when it came to you. He always seemed to know what you were feeling before you said anything.

“Everyone’s looking at me,” you muttered under your breath, staring up at him.

He raised his head, looking around with narrowed eyes. That caused most of them to look away, not wanting to risk the shadowsinger’s wrath.

“Come on,” Azriel whispered. “I know somewhere we can go that’s more private.”

He enveloped you in his shadows until you were stepping out of the darkness and into a rounded alcove somewhere else on the balcony. Vines dangled down from the roof, trailing down the pillars holding it up.

You stepped forward, placing your hands against the stone railing. You could see the crowd below, the one you had just been in. Still hear the music and still see the night sky. You turned to face Azriel.

“Thank you,” you said. “I-I just hate it when they stare. Like I’m some weird creature.”

Azriel stalked forward until he was right in front of you, so close you had to tilt your head up to look him in the eyes.

“They don’t stare at you because they think you’re weird,” Azriel replied. “They stare at you because you are beautiful.”

His hand rose and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Your heart skipped a beat. Your mouth parted to say something but a roar of cheers cut you off. You whirled around to see thousands and thousands of stars beginning to soar through the sky.

Your mouth dropped open. It was more beautiful than you remembered. The stars kept falling and falling, like cascading fireworks. So bright and breathtaking. You couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped your mouth, standing on your tippy toes to lean over the balcony as if you’d be able to reach the stars.

An arm circled your waist and Azriel’s front was pressed against your back as he held onto you.

“Careful,” he whispered in your ear, scared you were going to tip right over the edge and fall down the steep mountain.

“So beautiful,” you murmured, staring up at the stars. “Oh, it’s so much better than I remembered it from all those years ago.”

“It never stops amazing me,” Azriel said. “No matter how many times I watch it.”

You both watched in silence for a little longer, letting the music and laughter and cheers fill the space. Eventually, you turned in his arms, now pressed against the railing.

“Thank you,” you said again, “for bringing me here.”

“Anything for you,” Azriel whispered, raising a hand to rest on your cheek. His eyes were filled with a reverence that stole your breath away.

A brush of magic zipped by in the air and you gasped, raising up your wrist. The tattoo was gone. The bargain had been fulfilled. You had defeated Koschei and Azriel had given you the opportunity to live a life more than you had dreamed. That chance at life was in your hands now.

“The tattoo is gone,” you said, grasping his arm and pulling back his sleeve.

Your eyes widened to see his tattoo still there. The lunar moth emerging from the swirls of shadow.

“Wha—”

“I got it tattooed,” Azriel cut in. “Permanently.”

You glanced up at him in question. “Why?”

“Because I always want a reminder of what I promised you,” he said, his thumb stroking your cheek. “What I still promise you, y/n. A life worth living. I want to continue showing you the world, to be there when you experience new things.”

You were speechless. Completely, utterly speechless.

No one had ever shown such devotion to you, such care and love. Your heart swelled up, your chest ached.

“Azriel,” you stuttered out. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied. “I was trapped in the darkness once too. I know what that’s like and I never want you to fall back into it. I don’t need anything from you, just the chance to be there with you while you learn, while you feel.”

Something was building inside of you, building and building until it was ready to break out. You rubbed at your chest, at the unusual feeling.

“I feel this…I feel this thing inside,” You said, gesturing to your chest. “Do you know what this is? Do you know why I feel this way?”

Azriel grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest, in the exact same spot yours ached.

“It is the mating bond,” Azriel answered, softly. “I feel it too. Right here. I have since the day I met you.”

His shadows swirled around like they had been waiting for this. You felt your own darkness rise in response until the two had joined together, watching together from the dark crevices.

“A mating bond,” you repeated.

Something snapped the moment you said it out loud. As if a question you had been asking your whole life had finally been answered. A gold thread was woven between the two of you, a beacon of light in the darkness. A place for that moth to call home.

You gasped looking back up at Azriel. Now that you recognized the bond, it grew more taut. You stumbled closer to him, fisting his coat in your hands.

“A mate,” you whispered. “You're my mate. I..I didn’t even know Gods could have mates.”

“Say it again.” Azriel’s voice was as dark as the shadows. A shiver ran down your spine.

“Huh?”

“Say it. Say that I’m your mate again.”

“You’re my mate,” you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes. “My mate.”

A quiet whine came from the back of Azriel’s throat that sent heat between your legs. Your eyes widened. A muscle in his jaw clenched. The air around you was charged and you felt like you had been set on fire.

“And you are mine,” Azriel growled. “My mate.”

His possessive tone only made that heat grow. Your lips parted, a small breath leaving your lungs. His eyes glanced down to your lips, hungrily. You gave him the smallest dip of the head, the permission he was waiting for.

Azriel surged forward and crashed his lips against yours. You stumbled, your backside hitting the stone railing behind you. You met his vigor with your own.

His lips were soft and warm. And his kiss felt like heaven and hell all mixed in one.

He groaned as you deepened the kiss, tilting your head back to give him more access. You yanked him closer, wanting to feel him everywhere. You never craved someone as much as you craved him.

His tongue swiped your bottom lip and you opened for him, letting him claim your mouth. His scent was intoxicating, he tasted like pure sin. You could drown yourself in him.

Your hands trailed up from his chest to circle around his neck. His own hands were holding you by the waist, pulling your hips into his. They traveled down your thighs until he was lifting you up, seating you on the stone railing, never pulled away from your kiss.

You parted your legs, letting Azriel step even closer as he finally pulled away, trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck. You whimpered at the feeling of his canines grazing the sensitive skin.

His nose traced the column of your throat before he rested his forehead against yours. You were both panting, both completely lost within each other.

“Wait,” Azriel breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. “I got you something. I don’t want to forget to give it to you.”

Because he would. He would forget his own name as long as the sweet scent of your arousal filled the air. Would forget the whole world existed if you kept staring at him like you were.

He pulled a small black box from his pocket, handing it over to you.

You opened it, gasping at the beautiful ring displayed inside. It was made of gold with a mesmerizing amethyst gem in the shape of a teardrop, accentuated by crescent moons on both sides and tiny stars.

“Azriel,” you breathed out. “This is beautiful.”

A small smile ghosted his lips.

“May I?”

You held out your hand and he pulled the ring out of the box before sliding it onto your ring finger. It was the perfect fit. You admired it, twisting it under the faelights to see the gem glow.

“It’s perfect,” you sighed.

“I had it made just for you,” Azriel said. “It’s what I had to pick up in the city today.”

“I-I really don’t know what to say, Azriel.”

Azriel rested his forehead against yours. “Just say it again. Tell me you feel this too. I’ve been searching for you for over five hundred years now and I just need to hear you say it. Again and again. Until I can wrap my head around it. Until I realize I’m not dreaming.”

You smiled, lifting up to press a small kiss against his lips. Your heart fluttered in your chest at his words, at the realization of why exactly the bargain had been fulfilled. You had asked for someplace to be safe, for a home, a chance to live. Azriel was giving you all of that and more.

“You are my mate. And I am yours,” you murmured against his lips. You pulled back to look him in the eyes. “All I’ve ever wanted was to find somewhere to call home. Being with you, being in your arms—that feels like home to me, Azriel. The one I’ve been looking for my whole life.”

Azriel’s eyes searched yours, as if he was trying to find the lie in your words. But there was none. Of course there was none. You were falling in love with him.

“Does this mean you want it?”

“It means I want you. I want all of you, everything.”

Azriel smiled and the sight nearly blew you away. You giggled as he held you close to him, buried his face in the crook of your neck. He kissed your throat once, twice.

“Then I think we’re due for a long vacation,” he murmured against your skin.

You knew what he was referring to. The frenzy that would come with this. Just that thought alone caused a tantalizing ache between your thighs.

“I think so too,” you whispered back as Azriel pressed kisses up your neck and jaw.

He held your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your skin as he stared into your eyes. His gaze was filled with so much promise, so much love. And then he kissed you again and everything felt right in the world. You were home.

[transbookoftheday]

Trans Horror Podcasts

My post about trans horror books last year was much more popular than I expected, and since I've recently fallen in love with fiction podcasts and audio dramas, I thought I'd make a post about trans horror podcasts as well.

If you like trans horror, please give these a try - especially if you enjoy listening to audiobooks!

Hello From The Hallowoods:

Come walk between the black pines! In this award-winning queer fiction podcast, an eldritch narrator follows the increasingly connected residents of the forest at the end of the world. It's a bittersweet story that explores queer identity, horror genre tropes, and finding hope in humanity's last moments.

Hello From The Hallowoods is my absolute favorite podcast! If you only listen to one podcast from this list, please make it this one - it's so beautifully written and super queer! Also: season 4 starts today!

Trans main characters include:

our nonbinary eye-affiliated podcast host

a nonbinary "Frankenstein's creature"

a transmasc ghost

a genderfluid storm witch

a trans woman who can visit other people's dreams

multiple characters using neopronouns

Camp Here & There:

Good morning, campers! Camp Here & There is a weekly horror comedy podcast tuned in to the loudspeakers of a small midwestern sleepaway camp plagued by supernatural terrors and natural disasters. Sydney Sargent, resident camp nurse, cheerfully reports on all the terror we must face with a big smile. Let’s hope there’s nothing weird about that!

Sydney is a trans man.

Dos: After You:

Things have changed. Deck has fallen in love with someone who isn't human, and leaves a hungry house behind to see him again. Will he be waiting for you? The world has changed… but what about him? Dos: After You is a queer urban fantasy/horror audiodrama available in both English & Spanish

Deck is a trans man.

Jar of Rebuke:

Follow Dr. Jared Hel's journey as he works to re-discover his forgotten past and finds his place within the small Indiana farm town of Wichton and the cryptozoological organization he works for called 'The Enclosure'. These audio journals, and other recordings, dive deep into Midwestern US cryptids and folklore while also telling a mystery about identity, queerness, neurodivergence, and community.

Jared is nonbinary.

Spirit Box Radio:

Spirit Box Radio is an award winning, horror audio drama podcast about a radio show for enthusiasts of all things arcane. Follow Sam Enfield a former postboy with no experience in the arcane arts, who finds themselves forced to take over running the show, following the disappearance of the previous host. Sam soon discovers there are more than ghosts haunting the show, and finds himself amidst a mystery which threatens everything he knows about the world beyond his tiny basement broadcast studio, and maybe even himself.

Sam is a trans man.

The Silt Verses:

Carpenter and Faulkner, two worshippers of an outlawed god, travel up the length of their deity’s great black river, searching for holy revelations amongst the reeds and the wetlands. As their pilgrimage lengthens and the river’s mysteries deepen, the two acolytes find themselves under threat from a police manhunt, but also come into conflict with the weirder gods that have flourished in these forgotten rural territories. This is a world where divine intervention takes place through prayer-markings scratched into stumping-posts, and offerings are left squirming to die in the flats of the delta. This is a world of ritual, and hidden language, and sacrifice. This is folk horror, and fantasy, and a dark road trip into the depths of unusual faith.

Faulkner is a trans man and Paige is a trans woman.

The Magnus Protocol:

The Magnus Archives 2: The Magnus Protocol is the prequel/sequel/”sidequel” to the internationally renowned Magnus Archives podcast. The Magnus Institute was an organisation dedicated to academic research into the esoteric and the paranormal, based out of Manchester, England. It burned to the ground in 1999. There were no survivors. Now, almost 25 years later, Alice and Sam, a pair of low-level civil service workers at the underfunded Office of Incident Assessment and Response, have stumbled across its legacy. A legacy that will put them in grave danger. If this intrigues you then it is our pleasure to welcome you to the Office of Incident, Assessment and Response. Make sure you pick up your badge at desk and report to your line manager before sitting down. Oh and stay away from I.T., seriously.

Alice is a trans woman.

[arcanegifs]

Arcane Gif Requests: anon ↳ "Caitlyn's Socks. I believe I asked on your screen account too. So if my… unusual request is possible. THANK YOU. And if not. PLEASE 🛐🛐🛐"

[pomefioredove]

Noble Bell ; Book One, Part I ; The King of Truands

what if you were sent to Noble Bell College instead?

type of post: series characters: rollo, original characters (pierrot, bou, phoenix) additional info: reader is gender neutral, this is mostly my own vision, influenced by Disney's Hunchback, the 1939 movie, and the original novel

prologue | the king of truands, one | the king of truands, two |

Chapter One

That night, while you slept on uncomfortable bed of straw and mildewed wood, a council was held.

It is important to note that, for all its rules, and there were many, the body of staff of the proud Noble Bell College were rather removed from the common life. Outside the realm of the lecture hall and the office, the scholars were governed by a democratic and elected student council, that which organized the events, kept order, and administered discipline, when necessary.

The council was entirely egalitarian, but there are three key members: The Justice of the Peace, now sitting at the right hand of the stand, looking rather bored, The Vice President, M. Bou de Neige, whom we have already met, and The President, who is unusually absent on this chilled evening.

These three people are responsible for an entire body of students. They are looked up to, not only as scholars, but as diplomats, peacekeepers, and leaders. They are expected to keep the students best interests close to heart, to be the bridge between the scholar and the staff, and this is no easy burden, despite most of the council being no older than sixteen years of age.

You must understand, then, the significance of tonight's council.

Gathered around the dark hall, illuminated by the fire burning at one end of the long room, scholars and staff alike exchange whispers, glances, and moods.

"As far as I'm aware, they're still on school grounds," the Justice of the Peace scratches his head with his quill, and a spurt of black ink stains his light brown hair. "One of my men saw them going with Gregoire to La Tombe."

Bou de Neige, who had, up until this point, been rather quiet, grimaces. "The fool. He just can't help himself, can he?"

"Hospitality is a virtue," says the headmaster, a graying, old man in a white cloak by name of Monsieur Diacre.

"Where is the President?"

"No one can find him," Bou says. "I will be speaking for him tonight."

"Perhaps we should postpone until he's been found?" a council member echoes.

"As much as I would like to, this matter is grave," Monsieur Diacre says. "A decision must be made tonight. The fate of this stranger depends on our council."

A low murmur reverberates through the room.

"Now, I have received word from two arcane academies, and there, no mention has been found of this place they say they came from, in any language, in any history. There is, in principle, no proof that this person has ever existed.

Despite this, they have appeared at our doorstep, in our clothes. By merit, the Bell of Solace has seen them fit as a student of Noble Bell College."

Bou stands. "With all due respect, sir, I strongly disagree. How do we know they are not a thief, a beggar, or a vagrant? You know well the problems Fleur City has-"

"There is another thing," Monsieur Diacre says, calm despite the tension in the hall. "Perhaps even more grave."

"And that is?"

"If you will recall, some hours ago, in my office?"

"Yes," Bou says, sitting down again with his arms crossed over his broad chest. "A useless conversation about their home, which does not exist, because they are a liar, a thief."

"Not so. Remember the way their eyes clouded when we discussed the Bell, the school, and the ceremony? How they asked, in that confounded tone, about magic? Even you must know that they were truthful then,"

He narrows his eyes. The Justice of the Peace, who had, up until that point, been scratching the "Ph" of his name onto the stand with the fine point of his quill, finally looked up.

"You don't mean to say they don't know about magic?"

"That's impossible," Bou says, though his eyes are downcast, seemingly lost in the memory of their conversation.

"Perhaps we have become too dependent on the academics. The sciences," Monsieur Diacre says. "That we forget the power of miracle."

"You are sure, then- that this person- this stranger- has no magic?"

"None whatsoever?" the Justice of Peace echoes.

Monsieur Diacre gives them both a hard stare. "Monsieur de Neige, you were closest to them. Did anything seem strange as you walked them to my office?"

The boy presses his lips together to make a firm line. "...I did have such an impression,"

"We must consider the reality," he continues, "That is that we have a young person, born and raised without magic, on our campus."

A heavy silence follows. Only the matrons, the professors of Noble Bell College, old and dressed in gray, bell-shaped habits, murmur amongst themselves.

"But I do hope," one whispers, "That we will not keep them."

"I pity the housewardens if they are to be carried to their doors for shelter. I would rather shelter a thief!"

"A sign of bad luck for certain. The greatest calamities! It's no wonder we had such low exam scores last year,"

Bou leans on his elbows against the wood of the stand and grumbles.

"So, what will we do?"

"There are options," the headmaster says. "This very building was once a symbol of hope, a sanctuary for outcasts. I know how our scholars pride themselves on tradition..."

"And the other?" Bou asks, eyes narrowing.

"I am of the opinion," one older, respected professor says. "That it would be better for the scholars of Noble Bell, and the people of Fleur City, if that strange thing were not in our walls."

The room erupts into a frenzy of murmurs, whispers, and hisses. Monsieur Diacre sighs.

"...That is a possibility. I have received offer from Headmaster Crowley of Night Raven College, as he is looking for a new boarder, and would be willing to accommodate a magicless persons. We could-"

"That will not be necessary,"

Despite the obvious unrest, the symphony of whispers, the crackling of the fire, the single voice, the unwavering presence at the large doors of the hall, cold, dignified, carries over the room.

"President Flamme," Bou de Neige says. He is not greeted in return.

"Please thank Monsieur Crowley for the offer, and send him on his way. They will be staying at Noble Bell," the boy says, walking briskly into the room, cutting through the mass of students and staff like a hot blade.

He climbs the steps to the stand and sits between the Vice President and the Justice of the Peace. Both stare at him as if they were looking at a ghost.

"On what grounds, Monsieur Flamme?" the headmaster asks. A few heads nod in agreement.

"By our rules," he says. "If the Bell of Solace has chosen them, then they are ours."

For the first time, Bou seems flustered, stumbling over his words and making a spectacle of himself.

"But- well, yes, that is the rule, but- you must consider- there will always be exceptions! They made trouble at orientation, they ran away with Gregoire, and that's not even mentioning- no magic! How can they be expected to study at this college with no magic?"

"Compose yourself, Vice President," Flamme says sternly, folding his hands in front of himself on the table. "Noble Bell has seen them fit for our academy. There are greater powers at work here.

And who knows? Our Bell works in mysterious ways. Some day, they may be of great use to us."

"You are suggesting we enroll them as a student, then?"

The council waits with baited breath. After an amount of suspense, he nods.

"I am. Shall we vote?"

Chapter Two

You jolt awake to the sound of hard knocking on the door.

The makeshift home Pierrot had brought you to the evening prior looked quite different in the light of morning. You could now make out the interior:

On all sides, you are, once again, surrounded by stone walls. On one, the door, large and heavy. Above you, the ceiling is high, vaulted, and tiled.

Everything is thick with grime and dust.

On either side of you are what appear to be two large stone benches, engraved with arches, men in robes, and writing in a language you don't understand. Atop these benches are a number of things: papers, quills, bundles of clothing, a block of moldy cheese, and many, many books, piled and shelved as if this small place, whatever it was when Pierrot found it, had been baptized a library.

The boy himself, across the straw-covered floor, is just now waking, bleary-eyed and confused.

"Who is it?" asks Pierrot.

A low, annoyed voice comes from the other side of the stone door.

"Housewarden and Vice President de Neige. I've come on official council duty,"

The color drains from Pierrot's face. "Yes, just a moment!"

"Pierrot?" you ask, following him as he scrambles to his feet.

"You must speak to him first, I'll be out in a moment!" he ushers you to the heavy door, drags it open, and then closes it behind you with the unpleasant scrape of stone on stone.

The morning on the field is crisp and chilled, somehow much colder than the little stone room. Bou de Neige is standing in front of you, his arms crossed, an unpleasant scowl on his lips.

"Is he hiding?"

"He said he would be out in a moment,"

"Very well," Bou says. "I suppose we may as well start without him. I've come to prepare you for your classes."

You blink. "...My... classes..."

He scowls again. "Yes, and don't look so dumb. A student of Noble Bell ought to conduct themselves with the poise of the Righteous Judge himself. The council and staff held a vote last night. Despite your obvious lack of abilities, the Bell of Solace has chosen you for Noble Bell College, and thus, you will be permitted to study with us for the foreseeable future. Understood?"

You nod. He seems... unhappy, you think. Or perhaps he's always like that...

"Good," Bou crosses his arms. "You should consider yourself quite lucky. You have powerful allies on your side."

A loud, obtrusive crashing, and a high scream come from inside the little building. The stone door suddenly cries open again, and out comes Pierrot, now dressed in a black and white uniform, similar to de Neige's, except with pants rather than a frock. His hat is lopsided. Bou stares at him with clear disdain.

"This concerns you, as well Gregoire," de Neige says, hands on his hips.

"Me?"

"Wipe that stupid look off your face," he scowls. "Now, listen. You,"

de Neige points at your chest. "...Are useless in the practice of magic. Correct?"

You nod.

"And you-" he points at Pierrot. "Have lost your scholarship, your dorm accommodations, and your respect. You buffoon."

Pierrot blushes and sticks his hands in his pockets, as if feeling their emptiness. One has a finger-sized hole you can see his pinky wiggling out of.

"The council has come up with a solution that would be beneficial to the both of you. As an act of charity, the expenses of the new scholar have been covered by the college. That includes your books, uniforms, and meals. This does not change the fact that you at a clear academic disadvantage; magicless.

Here is the proposition: you and Gregoire, from the moment you accept, will count for one student. You will share your school materials, meals, and clothing provided by your scholarship, you will study together, take the same classes, and in return, he will perform the necessary magic for both of you."

You and Pierrot share a glance.

Bou sighs. "I, personally, would have never come up with such a ridiculous idea, but... unfortunately... your old tutor seems to have faith in you still, Gregoire,"

Pierrot's face goes pale. "You mean-"

"Either that," de Neige interrupts. "Or he simply thinks you are too weak-willed and incompetent to take advantage of them. I expect your answer before the first bell."

He turns on his heels, long, dark hair whipping behind him, and disappears into the grove, on a dirty cobblestone path back to the school.

"...Well?" a voice says from beneath you. You jump, and look down to see the goat, Hugo. Talking. You're still getting used to that...

"Where have you b... never mind," you say. "What do you think, P- Pierrot?"

You look back around to see the gentleman on his knees in front of you, his hands clasped as if in prayer. He's giving you terrible puppydog eyes.

"Please, please, please, this could be my only opportunity! I have nothing else! My studies- Noble Bell is everything!"

You grimace. "...I don't know. I just met you."

For a moment, he almost looks... taken aback, as if he found it strange of you to consider him, of all people, a suspicious character.

His voice drops, and he answers carefully.

"...I swear to you, by my quill, by my hopes of success, not to even approach you without your permission and consent, but, for the Judge's sake, give me a meal plan!"

Hugo bursts out into bleating laughter, and even you smile.

"...Alright," you say. "Let's go give him an answer, then."

Chapter Three

The dining hall, eerily void of living bodies at this early hour, is a thin, and humble building reaching towards the edge of the campus.

Hidden by the monotonous stone walls of the school, it is rather indistinct, the only remarkable thing being that it is held between courtyards on both sides, making it a sort of bridge between one row of buildings and the other, not unlike the stone bridges that hold the embrace between the island and the city.

This modest, almost dull exterior is deceptive, though, as appearances so often are. Once inside the hall, one is met with the magnificent vaulted ceilings, painted dark with stars, held high by the thinnest of thin, delicate arches on the walls, themselves sheltering bodies of stained glass in every color the eye can perceive. Warmed by candlelight and the fire crackling at one end of the magnificent hall, it is nothing short of... well, magic.

The body, no matter how exquisite, dull, or deformed, is nothing without the matter of the soul.

You tilt your head. In a sad sort of way, the feeling reminds you of your straw bed. Dirty, but warmer than the harsh morning outside.

"What did the building used to be?"

"Hm?"

Pierrot hums, smiling as if he had not heard you, preoccupied with piling his plate. You had counted sixteen strips of bacon so far. At this rate, he would build a tower high enough to touch the painted stars on the ceiling.

"Where you sleep. Your room. It's not a dorm, is it?" you ask, following behind, setting a fruit or two on his plate when the opportunity presents itself.

"More oranges," Hugo demands from beneath you. You concede.

Pierrot finishes off his mountain of breakfast with a few slices of bread, and then leads you off to a far corner of the magnificent dining hall.

"Oh, no. A mausoleum,"

"A what?"

"Don't worry, it's empty," he says. "...I think. I've never checked. I recall reading that the bodies from the old cemetery had been moved."

"Cemetery?"

"Fleur City is full of them," Hugo says. "I've been to my fair share. People just leave flowers all over 'em. A free meal is a free meal, right?"

Pierrot nods in agreement, though he doesn't really seem to be listening. You grimace.

"Yes. The field is covered in tombstones. They're quite pretty," he says. "But the bodies were reburied under the tiles in Noble Bell a long time ago."

Each thing they add seems to be more concerning than the last.

Hugo bleats. "You're gonna have to get used to the cadavers, y'know. This place is old, and full of 'em... and their parts,"

"Yuck,"

"Nonsense," Pierrot says. "There is beauty and life in everything, even death itself. Such is the danse macabre."

You and Hugo share a look. What did he say he was, again...?

"Do you think he came out like that, or was he taught?"

"Rude," Pierrot mumbles. "But one might say it runs in my family."

He offers you a slice of bread, and you decline. The headache you'd been fighting off since first light is making you nauseous.

"Tell us about your family," anything to distract yourself now.

Pierrot smiles, his features warming like the sun on a winter day. He always seems quite pleased to talk about himself.

"I'm afraid it's nothing interesting. My father is a notary, and I have five brothers, though most are older than I. The closest in age, a year younger, is at another arcane academy. Alas, I was disowned, and haven't spoken to them in some time,"

"Unsurprising," Hugo mutters. He snags the slice of bread that would have been yours off the plate, between his teeth, and returns to lying under the table.

You lean into your elbow. "Why were you disowned?"

"By my passion," he smiles. "See, I tried to be a guard, but wasn't brave enough. I became a religious man, but was not devout enough, and couldn't drink enough, anyway. I tried carpentry, but wasn't strong enough. At last, I realized I was good at nothing- therefore, I became a writer."

"And your family didn't approve?"

"Not quite. But then I was here," Pierrot becomes quiet, his eyes turned up at the colored windows of the hall with a sort of holy reverence.

"...And the rest is history."

You blink. Disowned by his family, stripped of his scholarship and thrown out of his own dorm by his housewarden?

He's resilient, at least. You'll give him that.

"And your scholarship?"

"Bah, that was nothing. I simply... printed a pamphlet on free thought that the school officials did not care for,"

"Your dorm?"

"I annoyed the housewarden,"

This guy can't catch a break. No wonder he was so desperate for your help.

"Who's the housewarden?" you ask, watching him absent-mindedly scratch beneath his cap.

"Of L'Universite? You've already met him. He is the one who came to see us this morning, Bou de Neige,"

You hum. Of course... Perhaps he is always that unhappy, then.

"I don't miss him. I kept to myself at L'Universite. The students were... unpleasant," Pierrot shudders, as if taken by some unfelt chill, and you raise an eyebrow.

He goes on without question. "You'd assume, with such a name, that the dorm is only for the most exemplary of scholars, but they're unruly. I was almost burnt alive only once, though,"

Huh. "Why is it called that?"

"The three dorms of Noble Bell are based upon the ancient divisions of Fleur City. On one side, the university district- L'Universite- on one, the aristocratic gardens- here, called La Ville- and in the center, the sacred island, which we call The City," he explains, snapping a crisp piece of bacon in half.

"...But the histories of the dorms have little to do with their personalities. They're only to pay homage to the time when Noble Bell was established. Up until Monsieur de Neige, L'Universite had no housewarden, as per tradition. It was overseen by the college itself..."

"Then the kids got too rough, and the administration had had enough of 'em. I heard about that," Hugo's voice comes from under the table.

Pierrot nods. "Now, de Neige has completely turned it around. He punishes anyone who steps out of line,"

This is a strange place, you think for the umpteenth time.

Chapter Four

Fed, sated, and warmed by good conversation, Pierrot leads you through the delicate halls of Noble Bell College with a renewed lust for life in his step.

He goes about, pointing towards windows and great pillars and plaques on the walls and floor, explaining their origins, which came from where, from what year and artist.

You nod along, content to just listen while your mind wandered.

It feels too real to be a dream, but it must be one. In your world, animals don't talk, humans don't cast spells, and schools don't have astrology classes.

Hugo had disappeared again, likely off looking for table scraps. He seemed to have a will of his own. Pierrot hadn't noticed yet.

"And the tile from this courtyard was repurposed from the Place de Grève..."

He talks so much to himself, it almost feels as if you are alone while right beside him. Despite that, and that he's facing away from you, his sunny self pointed toward the tiled courtyard he seems so enthusiastic about, you can't help but feel as if someone is watching you.

That strange, unnerving feeling had been following you since you left the dining hall. No matter how many times you turned over your shoulder, reassuring yourself that it was only your nerves, it lingered.

Every corner or so, another dignified scholar will pass you by, dressed in the same uniform, quiet, poised, looking straight ahead. Once, you walk by someone shrouded in a blue cloak, singing "Thaumarks to spare? Thaumarks to spare?" to whom you apologize for having nothing.

You don't even know what a thaumark is.

Pierrot leads you through yet another courtyard, and the feeling of eyes on your person never leaves.

It's beginning to weigh on you.

"How much longer?"

"Hm?" he finally turns to look at you, and the strange feeling subsides, slipping back into the shadows of the hall.

"Not much. Don't worry, Scriptorium is easy. As long as you pretend to be busy, no one will bother you,"

Chapter Five

Pierrot could not have given a truer description.

Though, he could have at least warned you about the boredom.

The melodious sound of forty quills on paper echoes off the stone walls and tiled floors. There is no talking, no eating, no foot-tapping, no whispers. The faint sound of the city, as close as it is, feels distant from here.

The parchment before you is as empty as it was at the beginning of class, and the book you'd been provided is on the very same page. The student in front of you has filled two pages already, delicately copying the contents of the book onto the parchment.

Pierrot, sitting beside you, seems to be writing something of his own. At least he seems entertained...

Then, all at once, everyone begins gathering their quills and ink, standing from their seats without a word. Pierrot jolts, shuffling around his things to cover his pages of writing as the other students pass him by.

Though he waits until everyone else is gone before getting up himself, avoiding their prying eyes is useless. Waiting outside the lecture hall is none other than his ex-housewarden himself.

"You. Come with me," Bou says, sharp, crimson eyes boring into you. "We have some things to discuss."

You share a glance with Pierrot. He looks sympathetic, waving you goodbye as de Neige leads you in the other direction.

"I trust you enjoyed Scriptorium?" he doesn't look at you when he speaks.

"Oh- um, yes,"

"Good. Copying manuscripts is an honored tradition of Noble Bell," he says.

"Until the invention of the printing press, all books were made by hand. Though the press made the process fast and inexpensive, the beauty of manuscripts remains unmatched."

You look at him. "You seem to have a lot of traditions,"

He returns your look with a glare. "We are a proud school. It would do you well to adopt a similar attitude. And not to let the idealistic drivel of that fool get to you,"

By "that fool", you assume he means Pierrot. That boy keeps getting stranger and stranger...

"What did he do, anyway?"

de Neige mumbles "heresy", and then clears his throat. "Nothing of your concern. Now, hurry up. You're dawdling,"

Chapter Six

As you pass through the halls of Noble Bell, you think of how easy one could get lost in a place like this.

It's almost labyrinthine. It seems as if every turn leads to another lecture hall, another crypt, another library...

"You should consider yourself fortunate," de Neige says. He's been going on about Noble Bell for some time.

"Of all the arcane academies, Noble Bell College's curriculum has the least practical magic."

"Right," you mutter, following him up another narrow flight of stairs.

"And despite that," he says, "You are already being coddled. The headmaster is... soft. Which brings us to the purpose of my visit."

Bou stops in front of a narrow wooden door and turns in a swift movement to face you. "Follow me," he says.

He takes something out of the depths of his pocket and slots it into the heavy, iron-bound wooden door, then pushes it open as if it were a silk curtain.

You follow him up another flight of stairs, and into a darkened room. The only light, cold and gray, comes from a handful of flower-shaped windows, whose glow illuminates the piles of books and dusty furniture cluttering the small room. Another staircase at the far end leads further into the unknown.

Your eyes are drawn to the window closest to yourself, and you peer out over the island, studying the city, its shape, its color, the curve of its river. You could spend your life up here, alone, comforted only by stone and the dim, foggy noon outside.

Bou hums, drawing your attention back to the present moment. He seems familiar with the room, walking about it and dusting its worn furniture with the sleeve of his uniform.

"Here is the north bell tower. You will be staying here from now on,"

Your eyes widen. "But..."

"Careful. It would be unwise to reject such a generous offer," Bou says, refusing to face you. "The bell towers are spacious, quiet, and warm. Winters are quite cold here."

"But Pierrot?"

Finally, you can see the crimson of his eyes, as he turns over his shoulder to glare at you.

"The student council thinks it improper for you to be living alone with Gregoire. He will stay in La Tombe,"

"But-"

"The key," Bou says, ignoring your protests. He takes something cold out of his pocket and places it in your hand. His skin is almost as chilled as the metal.

"I'll see to it that your mail is forwarded here,"

He turns and leaves you in the room, the rough, cold key still cradled in your open palm. You scoff. What mail?

No one knows you. And no one you know knows where you are.

You don't belong. You're an outcast here.

Your fingers tighten around the key. The least you can do is tell Pierrot. You don't want him to worry when you don't come back tonight, after all.

Finally finding some semblance of purpose, you take long, confident steps back the way you came.

Down the narrow wooden stairs, out the left door, down the stone ones, through this passage, this hallway, this turn, then this, and then...

...No. You don't recognize this hallway. It's darker, and the ceiling is lower. You must have gone too far down.

You take a breath. Don't worry. You'll just retrace your steps.

It isn't over. You've been telling yourself that all day. This is not where it ends. You'll find a way out of this.

All of this.

And then, you're no longer alone.

Though there is no noise, no light, no voice that would indicate a human presence, you are suddenly quite aware that there's someone behind you, watching you from the way you came.

All the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you stay in place. If you are to turn now, will you see someone- or something- standing behind you? A pair of eyes watching you from the doorway you'd just ducked under?

Or, worse- will you see nothing at all?

You decide you don't want to find out either way.

You keep going. Into the dark of the hall, over another threshold and another, around the corner. At some lengths, the feeling seems to subside, giving you a moment's worth of peace, and then it returns.

The halls are getting narrower. You have an inexplicable feeling that you are no longer in the school, but somewhere much deeper, much older, primeval.

The scuff of shoe against stone, which most certainly did not come from your own feet, makes you go cold.

"Who's there?" you shout.

The only response in your own echo.

"Come out! Stop following me! Leave me alone!"

The words come tumbling out without much thought. You can feel yourself slipping into a panic.

Thoughts chase each other through your mind, and then suspicions and paranoia poison those thoughts. You must ask yourself now, what is this? What's there, in the dark, just out of sight?

And your mind answers for you: it is a monster.

There is a monster in Noble Bell College, and it wants you.

"Leave me be!" you yell at nothing. You're starting to get desperate.

Nothing happens. Then, all at once, a light comes from ahead of you, not behind, and someone shouts:

"Who's there?"

You turn your back to the dark behind you in a frenzy, and, finally, the feeling of being watched disappears entirely.

"Me! I'm here!"

Around the corner comes a boy, one you had not seen before. Not tall, but not short, sturdily built, we'll say. He's quite good looking, at least compared to the other students you'd met, with light brown hair spilling out of a short, stubby ponytail, blue eyes, darkened by the black of the hall, and, curiously, the wisps of a beard on his chin. He's quite unlike any of the other students you'd seen so far.

But, the more pressing question-

"Who are you?" he asks it before you can.

You say your name, and his eyes widen. His stern expression turns merry, and he smiles.

"Ah, I know you. The magicless one,"

That's not very reassuring. You grimace.

"...How do you know who-"

"You shouldn't be down here alone, you know. It's not safe. We've had some thieves on campus lately,"

"Thieves?"

"Yes. Or so I've heard," he nods solemnly, and then a strange mood comes about him.

He smirks and puts his hand on his hip, his other at his hilt, purposefully drawing your eyes to what must be a sword. A big one, too, if his smile is any indication.

"But don't worry. I'll protect you. You know, I haven't seen you in person yet. The way everyone's been talking about you, I assumed you were some sort of monster. But you're actually very pretty,"

You give him a weird look. Perhaps you were wrong- of course, he's just as strange as the others. "Um... alright...."

"Ah, where are my manners? Let me escort you back to your room."

"...Right," you say, looking over your shoulder one last time. The boy follows your gaze, and then coughs for your attention.

"Bell tower, yes?"

You look back at him and nod.

"Then let's not waste any time,"

Chapter Seven

Despite his confidence, it takes the boy a full hour to find the right passage out of the tunnels. He gets to the bell tower easy enough, at least.

Something about him tells you he's not from here, either, but you keep the thought to yourself for now.

"Well, here we are," he says, hands on his hips as if he had just accomplished something.

"...Yes. Well, thank you,"

He beams, gives you a courteous bow, locks of hair falling over his face as he does. They turn golden in the sunlight. "It was my honor. And if you need anything else-"

"There you are," someone says from within the bell tower. You recognize the gruff voice, but before you can answer, the heavy wooden door bursts open and Hugo tumbles out.

He chuffs. "We've been worried sick, 'ya know! Pierrot's all over the place! Who's the stiff?"

You turn to the boy, and his smirk sharpens at the acknowledgement. "Um... I don't know, actually. Who are you?"

"My name is Phoenix. It means, ah, sun bird," he chuckles.

You and Hugo exchange a glance, and he stops laughing. "I'm the Justice of the Peace of the student council. I was doing my rounds when I heard you shouting,"

You turn back to Hugo to explain. "I got lost,"

"No kidding!"

"I didn't know you had a kid," Phoenix says, the same sly smile on his lips. You almost scoff.

"Yeah, and he doesn't take kindly to pigs!" Hugo says. "Now, get lost! That's our magicless human!"

As the two go back-and-forth, a little glimmer of white against the dark brown of the floor catches your eye. You kneel, and pull a thin envelope from under the wooden door. It has your name on the back, and a bite taken out of the corner. You roll your eyes at that. Hugo.

The goat sets off, headbutting Phoenix back down the narrow stairs and leaving you alone again. You sit on the floor and open the letter.

Dearly Beloved, it starts,

The King of Truands has reviewed your case and sees you fit to join his Cour des Miracles. All thieves, beggars, vagrants, or otherwise outcasts, welcome.

You turn over the parchment, noting its weight, and stuck to the back is a thin pendant, woven of purple and teal twine, in the shape of a leaf. At its heart, a small, golden cross.

How strange...

You squint at the pendant, and then the letter, which, quite rudely, bursts into flame in your hand.

You drop the fiery letter and it dissolves into ashes on the floor. You huff. Magic...

"And stay out!" Hugo's voice returns from the stairs. For a goat, he certainly has a loud bark.

The white of his small head crowns over the steps, and you stand.

"Hugo," you hold out the pendant to him. "Do you know what this is?"

The goat stops and squints, then scoffs. "One 'a those touristy necklaces. They're all over the city, I can't remember what they're for, though. Just that they don't taste good,"

You hum, bringing the pendant back towards yourself. Why would this King of Truands send you a souvenir?

"...Maybe Pierrot will know," you finally say. He seems to know a lot of useless things, after all.

You hurry to the stairs, Hugo trotting behind you. "What's the big deal?"

"I don't know," you say, paying close attention to each step. You don't want to get lost all over again, after all.

"I've had a bad feeling all day. I think this means something."

"Great, a fortune teller," Hugo sighs.

He follows you, anyway.

Chapter Eight

The sun is already setting over the city when you stumble down the steps of Noble Bell.

The sky is streaked with fiery pinks and oranges, making the school look cold and dull by comparison. Even the clouds, red and descending on the wrought iron gates like a bloodied army, turn the stone of the city into a dull, lifeless blue.

You stumble across the sports field and into the grove at the end of the island.

"Slow down!" Hugo gasps.

You don't. But you do stop at La Tombe and pull open its heavy stone door. It's dark inside.

"Pierrot?" you call for him, as if he were hiding behind a book or in a stray shoe.

Nothing.

"Hey, come look at this!"

You abandon the mausoleum and turn to its side, where Hugo is standing over an attached tomb. Its stone lid has been pushed to the ground beside it, and there's light coming from its depths.

"You think he...?" you start, unable to look away from its gaping mouth. Instead of dust and bones, there's a flight of stairs.

"Who else?" Hugo sighs. "He was looking all over for you."

"He must've panicked when the sun started going down," you murmur. "We have to get him."

"What?" Hugo asks, eyes wide. "Are you crazy?"

You take the pendant out of your pocket and hold it against the warm light coming from inside the tomb.

"I just have a feeling," you breathe in slowly, and take your first step into the grave. "Let's go find Pierrot."

[fantastic-fr-scries]

Bogsneak Female

Bronze / Honey / Murk , Petals / Flair / Koi

Arcane Unusual

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Hello! Are your requests open??? If so, I loved your Alastor fics so much that I just had to pop in your inbox!! 😭 Can I request a Husband!Alastor and Wife!reader with a little girl? Like 2, 3, 4? Just really young. The child is like very unexpected but loved otherwise, and she is staying at the Hazbin Hotel with her parents. OKAY, what about angst? The people of the hotel are so used to seeing the little girl run around that they got confused when they don't. They assumed that she was with her parents but reader and Alastor assumed that she was with them 😭😭 Summarized, she gets kidnapped. What would happen?

A/N: I love this concept so much, I don’t believe I really write Husband Alastor, it’s more Wife reader usually, but I really love this!! Thank you so much for your request!!! I decided to make the child a girl, since I feel like Alastor would be a good girl dad, so expect some of that too!

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

Little one

The Hazbin Hotel was usually a whirlwind of chaos, a place where demonic beings and lost souls roamed freely. Yet amidst the clamor and confusion, a beacon of innocence shone brightly: a young girl, no older than three, who had unexpectedly entered the lives of Alastor and Y/N.

The little girl, with her wide eyes and boundless energy, had become a cherished presence in the hotel. She brought an unusual warmth to the cold halls and a sense of hope that had not been felt in the hotel before. Alastor, the ever-controversial Radio Demon, and Y/N, his loving and fiercely protective spouse, found solace in their role as parents. Their daughter was their most precious treasure, a gift they had learned to cherish despite the unpredictable nature of their surroundings.

On a particularly busy day, as the Hazbin Hotel bustled with its usual activity, the little girl’s absence went unnoticed. She had been a constant sight in the corridors, her laughter ringing out amid the chaos. But today, she was missing.

Alastor was in his office, engaged in some arcane task. Y/N was handling various hotel matters when a sudden unease gripped them. Y/N’s eyes darted around the hotel, searching for the familiar sight of their daughter.

“Alastor,” Y/N called out, their voice laced with concern. “Have you seen our little one? I haven’t seen her all day.”

Alastor glanced up from his work, his usual calm demeanor momentarily shifting to confusion. “No, I haven’t. I assumed she was with you or the staff.”

A sinking feeling settled in Y/N’s stomach. “I thought she was with you. This isn’t like her.”

The realization that their daughter was missing hit them both like a thunderclap. Panic set in as they started a frantic search. Alastor’s normally composed exterior cracked as he began shouting orders.

“Where is she?” Alastor roared, his voice echoing through the hotel. “Everyone, check every corner, every room. She can’t be far!”

Y/N, their heart racing, joined the search with equal urgency. They shouted their daughter’s name as they moved through the hotel’s labyrinthine corridors, but the response was only silence.

Hours passed, and the tension in the hotel grew palpable. The staff and residents, now fully aware of the gravity of the situation, joined the search, their faces marked by anxiety.

“Have you found anything?” Y/N asked one of the staff, their voice trembling.

“No, nothing yet,” the staff member replied, their own worry evident. “We’re checking every possible place.”

As time dragged on, it became clear that their daughter had been taken. Alastor’s usually sharp features were etched with a mix of fear and guilt. Y/N’s eyes were red from worry, and they struggled to hold back tears.

“This is our fault,” Y/N said, their voice breaking. “We should have been more careful.”

Alastor placed a reassuring hand on Y/N’s shoulder, his own emotions barely contained. “We’ll find her. We must. We can’t let this go.”

Desperation drove them to follow every lead, questioning anyone and everyone who might have seen something. Their efforts led them to a decrepit warehouse on the outskirts of the hotel’s territory. Alastor and Y/N, accompanied by a small group of hotel staff, stormed the warehouse with a mix of determination and trepidation.

The confrontation with the kidnapper was fierce and chaotic. Amid the struggle, Y/N spotted their daughter, tied up but unharmed. Relief flooded over them as they quickly untied the child.

“Mommy! Daddy!” the little girl cried, clinging to Y/N. “I was so scared!”

Y/N held her tightly, tears streaming down their face. “We’re here, sweetie. We’re so sorry.”

Alastor, though visibly shaken, maintained his composure as he dealt with the kidnapper. “You will pay for this,” he said, his voice cold and threatening.

After the confrontation, the family returned to the hotel, the little girl safely in their arms. The relief was overwhelming, but the emotional toll was evident. The once lively and cheerful atmosphere of the hotel was now subdued, filled with a quiet solemnity.

Later that night, after the excitement had died down, Y/N and Alastor sat in their room, their daughter sleeping soundly in a crib nearby. The weight of the day hung heavily over them.

Y/N sighed, their voice hoarse from the earlier shouting and crying. “I still can’t believe we let this happen. I thought we were being so careful.”

Alastor, his usual confident demeanor softened by the ordeal, looked at Y/N with a mixture of guilt and determination. “We both thought she was safe. We made a mistake, but she’s back now, and she’s safe. That’s what matters.”

Y/N looked over at their daughter, who was peacefully sleeping. “I’m just so relieved she’s okay. I can’t imagine what I’d do if anything happened to her.”

Alastor reached out, gently taking Y/N’s hand. “Neither can I. But we need to focus on what we can do now. We’ll be more vigilant. We’ll make sure she’s always protected.”

Y/N nodded, their eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you for being strong today. I don’t know how I would have managed without you.”

Alastor squeezed Y/N’s hand reassuringly. “We’re in this together. We always will be.”

They sat in silence for a moment, both lost in their thoughts. The chaos of the day had left its mark, but amidst the turmoil, there was a renewed sense of resolve. They knew that they had each other, and that was what would help them move forward.

As they looked over at their sleeping daughter, they both silently vowed to cherish every moment and to protect their family with everything they had. The Hazbin Hotel had been a place of chaos and fear, but it was also a place where love and resilience would always prevail.

[pastel-peach-writes]

Hey! I love your fanfics! (Especially your arcane and caitvi one's I think their adorable) and I thought I maybe could ask for a parttwo to your jinx x reader fanfic ("your a fun one aren't cha?" Is the one am talking about, it's probably my favorite fanfic so far)-? And have jinx slowly catch a bit of feelings-? And some flirting headcanons would be cute as well!

I have no clue when a part two is coming, but I already have an idea for that whenever I do get around to posting. That being saiddd, I am more than willing to do flirt Jinx headcanons for you! Enjoy!

Wrapped around a Pinky Finger | Jinx Headcanons

╰┈➤ PLOT: Flirty Jinx Headcanons!

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Flirting, Suggestive Content(?), No Use of Y/n, Not Proofread, Lowkey Lowercase Intended

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

– Jinx LOVES to look at you with wide doe eyes, a pout, and her hands behind her back.

– It was a signature move Powder used to use with Vi or Vander when she got in trouble. She knew the two couldn't say no to her chubby cheeks and bright eyes, so as she got older (and lost contact with them) she decided to use Powder's "power" for Jinx's own personal gain.

– Jinx also loves to add an extra raspiness to her voice when she feels like being extra mischievous with her flirts.

– She'll get all close to your ear, put her chest to yours, and whisper pet names or pickup lines with that extra raspy voice of hers

– Now, her pickup lines are a bit... unusual, but you have such a big crush on her (simp), they work regardless

– The most ridiculous line she said was something about a doll, tomato, and mercury???

– Where in the hell did she get mercury and why is she talking sexily about a tomato?!

– In regards to more physical flirts, Jinx loves to push herself against you.

– I mentioned earlier that she loves to push her chest up against yours, but she will also walk you into a wall or a corner just to make sure "you can't get away".

– if you're the easily flustered type, she finds it kinda hot watching you squirm as she backs you into a wall

– if you're not as easily flustered, she'd find your smirks, cocky smiles, and rebuttals equally as hot. In fact, she would push the extra mile just to finally see you crack.

– Jinx likes to think she's also hard to make flustered, but she's easy to make giddy

– if you talk to her about her special interests, give her a space to be her authentic self, and sprinkle a little bit of praise here and there, she will literally look at you with a sparkle in her eyes

– OH Jinx also loves to tease. But I think that's a given

– she always catches you staring at her while she has her welding mask on. It's like she has a sixth sense for those sorts of things

– when she catches you, she'll be like: "you're staring. what? do i really look that attractive while working?"

– you'll try to claim that you aren't, but she would smirk underneath her mask as she continues to work.

– if nail grazes make you squirm, trust Jinx will always be grazing her nails along her skin.

– She loves long nails and trying different colors anyway, so the fact that using her nails as another way to get her partner flustered is just a plus

– she would drag them up and down your back and arm. She would draw circles and swirls on the palm of your hand just to see your fingers twitch and curl from the gesture.

– whenever you guys are laying in bed, she would drag her nails up the delicate sides of your stomach and trail them down to your navel. using a claw hand, she would graze her nails up and down your stomach.

– obviously you would try to shrug her off or tell her to go to bed, but she would just grin and be like, "what? I'm not doing anything."

– she would giggle mischievously into your ear immediately after and all you can do is ignore her. or really push that you don't want her nails to be messing with you and then she'll back off.

– that is literally all i got LMAOAOAO.

WC: 589

[chlorinecake]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐏’𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 — a yang jungwon fanfic

𖦹 ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: from the sweet boy you met at your cafe job to an obsessive psycho, yandere!yang jungwon goes to extreme measures to ensure that you’re his.

➳ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: mentions of food, abduction and yandere themes, swearing, violence, crying, angst, hickeys, non-con kissing and touching, nudity ~

𖦹 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.4k | read pt. 2 , 3 , and 4 here

"I brought you some treats! I hope you’re hungry!" Jungwon placed the woven basket of freshly made delights before you on the center of the picnic mat, his cheerful voice snatching your focus from the daunting thoughts clouding your mind.

"Thank you, Won-ah," you smiled, feigning a sense of gratitude towards his unusual gesture.

"So," he began, revealing the goodie’s hidden beneath the white cloth of the basket. "What do you think of my garden?"

"Well, it’s a change that I’ll have to learn to get used to," you admitted, too timid to meet his curious feline eyes. "My life in the city followed a work-sleep-repeat schedule," you went on. "Where I’m from, no one really cared to spend their free time outdoors. Your garden, though... it’s rather strange at best, especially considering that you’ve maintained it all by yourself."

Jungwon simply nodded in response as he arranged a few sandwiches and a bowl of sweet cream and sugar-soaked strawberries for the two of you on a sharing platter, savoring one of the bright red berries in his mouth.

"Jungwon?"

He swallowed and said, "Yes, my love?"

"Are you going to keep me here forever?"

Chirping birds in the distance temporarily filled the silence.

"Hmm… When you’re deeply in love with someone, you often like to think that time is an irrelevant variable. I would say that forever is quite a strong word, yet, a perfect one to describe my infinite love for you." His eyes lit up at the mere thought of infinity and beyond with you, the love of his life.

You nodded in response, taking a corner of one of the sandwiches Jungwon had prepared into your mouth, sinking your teeth into the soft white bread.

"I’m not much of a cook, but I tried to recreate the little sandwiches you used to make me at the cafe to the best of my ability. I remember when you recommended that I try them because they were your favorite lunch item on the menu." He smiled to himself at the memory before searching your features for any clue as to what was going on in your head.

"It’s not identical, but I almost prefer your version of the treat," you admitted, trying to mask the awkwardness between you two. "It’s sweeter. Softer. Unlike the stale bread and recycled fruit I’d make them with at the cafe,"

Jungwon chuckled in response, and your lips couldn’t help but tug upward at each corner. Deep down, you wanted to believe that somewhere in Jungwon’s twisted brain, he was the same shy and innocent boy you previously met at your cafe job on a slow Tuesday morning.

The boy you wanted to learn more about at your own pace and on your own terms.

The boy you used to dream would somehow save you from the mundane patterns of your exhausting city life.

Though, in an odd way, you got what you asked for.

"Jungwon?"

"Yes," he answered, yet asked, slightly curious about your reasons for wanting to question him again.

"Are you anything like the ‘you’ I met before all this?"

It had only been three days since Jungwon had abducted you, hiding you away in his garden of arcane wonders. Before today, you and him had hardly made any conversation since you arrived here, as he didn’t see any need for chatting given the fact that you two had already gotten to know each other personally. Just yesterday, he offered to give you a tour of one of the smaller greenhouses he owned, saying that you would have to wait a while before he showed you the rest of his field. Presently, this is your first time leaving your "room" since day one, mostly for Jungwon’s selfish desires of wanting to have a little picnic date with you. Perhaps this was all a ploy to manipulate your trust. Nonetheless, you wanted to use this time with Jungwon as an opportunity to ask him to clarify his deeper intentions. The only things Jungwon had made verbally clear to you were a set of rules for you to follow and that you were his and his only.

He cleared his throat before saying, "Yes. I am the same Jungwon that you met at the cafe as I am now and always will be. The only thing that’s changed are my feelings for you. They’ve grown since I brought you here with me. Since I’ve shared this part of my life with you." A forlorn expression waved over his features for a moment. He looked into your weak eyes as if speaking to your soul.

"I love you."

You felt obligated to say a set of three words back to him, but they were caught in your throat. You swallowed your own resistance and blurted out a shaky, "I love you, too, Jungwon," hoping that you sounded as sincere as you wanted him to believe you were. It’s not that you were incapable of ever loving Jungwon. At one point, you felt like you almost did. Unfortunately, all of those "what ifs" went out the window after the garden. Even after considering Jungwon’s plea for innocence, you felt in your gut that you still couldn’t trust him. Rightfully so, given that he had already betrayed your trust on such a level. Your false confession of love rang true to Jungwon’s ears, and the forlorn look on his face faltered, being replaced with his familiar smile. It startled you to see how the smile of his that used to comfort you had already become one of fright.

"Come here," he said, motioning for you to sit on his lap in a lotus position. He braced the small of your back with his larger hand, the other hand alternating between exploring either your thigh, cheek, or loose baby hairs. You could hardly keep eye contact with him, missing the close proximity you two had once enjoyed on the checkered picnic mat.

"I think it’s only fair that I ask you a question of my own, seeing that you’ve interrogated me twice thus far."

In that moment, Jungwon somehow made you feel guilty for not trusting him. It's been a few days, and you’ve been alright as rain under his sheltering. He certainly had been as sweet as the boy you first met, but you still couldn’t let his words disregard the facts. Jungwon had kidnapped you and never intended on letting you go. He lured you in like a fish in water, and you took the bait. Trying to avoid asking him what he wanted to know, as that would be yet another question on your behalf, you confessed, saying: "Whatever the question may be, I promise to answer you truthfully this time. I’m sorry for lying to you about certain things in the past."

You looked so submissive in Jungwon’s eyes while situated in his lap with your legs wrapped around him, his greedy hands left to explore your soft skin and every curve of your anxious body. You regained some ability to maintain eye contact with him while you awaited his question, your docile doe eyes opening a gate to Jungwon’s wildest fantasies of you, as your two hearts were the only beats present in this lonely field. You noticed Jungwon’s previously innocent aura falter into a darker, more lustful one upon feeling the sensation of his length growing harder beneath you. Your eyes fell to his lap and widened at the sight of his bulge.

"Jungwo-" he stopped you mid-sentence by taking your chin in his free hand, forcing you to meet his eyes. He remembered your previous confession of dishonesty regarding your past interactions with him, inspiring a catalog of questions he wanted to ask you before settling on the one most important to him.

"____," he sighed, feeling his body tingle all over at the mere contact with your now goosebump-bathed skin. This state had you both scared for different reasons. For him, it was the closeness of the moment—an obedient you cradled in his embrace like he’d always dreamed of. For you, it was also the closeness, coupled with the sight of an obsessed and hungry Jungwon biting back every will in his body to ravish you on the spot. The dainty meal he had prepared was long forgotten, likely to be left to insects and other wild life to feast upon in the meantime. He smoothed the tiny bumps on your nervous arm with a hard hand, hoping to ease your apparent nerves that only grew with the delay of his question.

"Were you lying to me when you said you weren’t a virgin?"

The question caused a pit to form in your stomach. It was written all over your face. However, as in most cases, Jungwon was more concerned with your answer than how his question made you feel. The fact that he was already hard just made the situation even more painful. He seemed to be patient for your response, but you didn’t want to push your luck and forced yourself to answer, but only with a soft mumble.

"Yes, I- I'm a virgin," you regretfully admitted, looking away from his face again, feeling some sort of strange shame. Silence filled the air as you awaited a sentence from Jungwon that never came. Only his pouty lips linked with yours, not exactly according to the way you previously would’ve preferred your first kiss with him to be, and certainly not under such circumstances. You instinctively pulled away in disgust, but luckily, with him being caught up in his own delusions, he saw your resistance to his kiss as a break for air. Suddenly, the dreamy boy you met in the cafe lost all of his charm, looking no different from a casual pervert.

"You’re mine. From the moment I saw you, I fucking knew your soul belonged to me. It’s hard to believe a beautiful girl like you is so intimately pure." He laved at his own lips, trying to steady his breathing.

"Were you waiting for me? Love?"

You struggled in his grip, senselessly trying to get away from him, knowing that you wouldn’t get very far.

"What is it, _____? I thought you loved me," his voice cracked, almost in a confused cry.

"Eugh!" you squirmed as he held you tighter.

"You can’t force me to love you back!"

That comment stung like a needle in his heart.

"Force you? So you lied to me. Again?"

"I can learn to love you, Jungwon! Just not like this!" You pleaded with him, your eyes beginning to well with tears. Though his despair soon returned to its original lustful desires. He pushed you off of his lap and pinned you by your hands to the picnic mat, your arms framing your head so gracefully.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this—to be so close to you that we’re breathing each other’s air," he confessed in between a trail of wet kisses, his sugary pink saliva glistening on your neck and collarbone under the sunlight peeking through the trees. He hungrily nibbled on your exposed skin, causing a moan to erupt from your throat unintentionally. The vibrations from your throat tantalized his lips, forcing a low grunt from him as he smirked against your flesh, the once-uncomfortable nips turning into painful pinches. His hand focused on kneading your hip before gripping your waist, the other curiously hovering over one of your breasts before taking hold of it like his life depended on it.

"Please, Jungwon-ah," you whimpered, your tears still too shy to fully come out, or perhaps it was the newfound anger and hate you’d developed for him that hindered your tears from flowing. He stopped his ministrations to your neck and chest momentarily, his elbows caging you beneath him. He stared at you with an uncanny fondness, thinking to himself how much he’d like to force those bashful tears out of your eyes with his greedy dick alone.

"Shh, my flower... You have nothing to be afraid of. You’re safe here with me," he said in a soft voice, causing you to spiral in your head, a thick tear finally daring to tip over the damp edge of your lower eyelid. His eyes followed the tear, sliding down your cheeks before resting in the crook of your chest. He dove down to catch the liquid with his tongue, but was halted by a harsh slap planted right across his face. ‘Why did I do that?’ you thought to yourself.

"You little bitch," he cursed, flipping you on your stomach and restraining your movements with much greater success than before. He unzipped his pants and pressed his hardness on your back, leaning close enough to your ear so you could hear the sick nothings he whispered to you.

"Do you feel that, love? That’s how much power you have over me. My manhood has always been my weakest member. It submits to you in ways I both love and hate. But I have control over your entire body, and don’t you ever fucking forget that," he ordered, sitting on your legs as he hurriedly stammered to remove your clothing. You knew that at this point, fighting wouldn’t help you, but the haste with which your clothes were flying off your body only added fuel to your rage. You felt foolish, used, and soon to be abused under his tight grip. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and you damned yourself for not seeing it any sooner. A cacophony of thoughts ran through your head, making you feel much more than half-crazy. You wanted to cry, and you did. You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. The only sound that escaped your mouth was a weak, raspy sentence:

"I’m not a flower, Jungwon."

He stopped abruptly, staring at your bare and bruised figure beneath him, glistening in a sheen of sweat. Your rebuttal rang true in his ears, and he said to himself, yes, you were indeed far from a flower. For now, that is. His aggressive demeanor switched to that of a more calm and understanding one. He leaned down to gently peck an appealing corner of your neck that he had previously marked, a cherry red hue rising to the surface of your skin. He then trailed a finger down your spine, saying something that you didn’t know was either to you or himself.

"Why didn’t I think of that before? Every flower ought to have petals." You were very confused yet grateful that the abuse didn’t go any further, with Jungwon leaping off of your tired body and running off to his personal shed, leaving a naked, crying you sprawled upon the checkered picnic mat alone under the sun. The once tasty delights had become the second most disgusting thing in the dreaded garden, with Jungwon placing first.

………………………………………………………………………………….

✎ ᴀ/ɴ: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.

☆ ᴘ.ꜱ: this is my first fanfic, so i really hope you all enjoyed this short story! if it seems like i got a little carried away with myself here, it’s because i originally wrote this idea about someone else but changed my mind last minute haha… feel free to put in any requests for future works and provide feedback! love always <3

[yeonjuns-beanie]

Halo Pt.1

warnings: a lot of plot, 18+, eventual smut (unprotected sex, biting, marking, light blood(play), hair pulling, body worship, dub-con, light fear play, more may be added upon update)), yandere themes(stalking, manipulation, etc)

summary: in your free time you do freelance writing, doing interviews with people most would consider strange and unusual. when you recognize that one of the regulars in your coffee shop only visits in the evening, you pose the question of whether you can interview him. upon his agreement, you realize this is unlike any other interview. 

a/n: i have no idea where this came from but its been rotting my brain. hope whoever finds this enjoys it! I'll be uploading the second half in a few days, school has been taking up a lot of my time lately.

word count: 6.7k

Vampire!seonghwa x female reader

pt.2

The hustle from the afternoon-evening rush finally settled down, leaving you a moment to catch your breath and rest your nerves. You favored working night shifts because of how routinely easy it was compared to mornings, but the one thing you loathed was the mini rushes. They lasted far too long and happened in increments that were too close together. It was like everyone forgot that the coffee shop existed and they needed to get their final fix in before the building closed. 

Appreciating the minute silence of no customers coming in through your drive-thru, you focused on the somewhat comforting static of the conversations happening in your cafe. You were able to take a simple delight in the smells behind the bar. Varying roasts, some pastries that had been left out, and the all but familiar smell that was the store. 

With the dying down of customers now that it was just an hour before closing, you waited for your arcane regular to make his nightly appearance. He was painfully beautiful, clad in all black, and a man of few words. You never really got a gauge on who he was. Now that you thought about it, he was probably the only regular that you didn’t have an extensive background on. 

As you restocked cups and lids, the bell on the door jingled signaling you to look up at who walked in. Stunning per usual, the heels of his dress shoes echoed through the lobby. Taking in his outfit, his chest was adorned in a black, hollow collar long sleeve, black slacks to match, and a designer tote to pull it all together. His hair was carefully styled, a few gelled strands falling to the front of his face. 

You threw the empty plastic holding the cups in the trash and walked over to the register a wide smile pulling at your face. He was probably the only regular you enjoyed and you were thankful at how peaceful the shop had become so you could focus on your interaction. 

“Hi Seonghwa! We doing your usual today?” 

A small smile pulled at his lips as he exhaled a contented breath through his nose. 

“Yeah, just the usual, but let’s do a large today.” 

“Got some extra work tonight?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Punching in his order, you realized you weren’t logged in on the till so you took the liberty of giving him one of your markouts. Finishing typing in your numbers, he handed over his card. You waved your hand and frowned, declining his payment, and when his brow furrowed in confusion you spoke up. 

“It’s on me today.”

You walked over to the cup caddy and began making his drink as he followed you over to the opposite side of the bar. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I know. But you’re in here basically every day. While I’m at it, you want a pastry?”

An airy laugh left him as you lidded his drink securing the cup with a sleeve. 

“I’d love to, but not tonight.” “Alright, well, you let me know if you need anything. Besides that couple in the corner, you’ve pretty much got the night crew to yourself.” 

Thanking you, he walked over to the table that might as well have his name engraved on it. It was tucked in the corner of the building right next to the front windows. You assumed he claimed the spot as his own because he had a view of who was coming in and out of the cafe at all times. Pulling out his laptop from his bag, you walked to the back to finish up with most of your closing tasks so you and your coworker wouldn’t have much to do when the clock stroked 9 p.m. 

As you finished the last of the dishes, you peek your head out to the front checking to see if any last customers had straggled in. Realizing that Seonghwa was the only one left in the cafe, you decided that this would be your best shot to ask him what you’d been thinking about for weeks. Smoothing out your apron, you walked over to him suddenly feeling your nerves fire up. Seonghwa noticed you first and immediately figured you were coming over to tell him you had closed. Closing his laptop, he apologized as you approached. 

“I’m sorry, I must’ve lost track of time. I’ll be out of your hair.”

You threw your hands out in front of you, silently trying to halt his actions. 

“Oh, no no, w-we’re not closed yet. We still have about 15 minutes. I was actually coming over to ask you something.”

“Oh?”

Seonghwa raised his eyebrows and relaxed into his chair, he motioned for you to sit in the chair across the table. Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to swallow your anxiety realizing the gravity of what you were asking him. You were no longer abiding by the standard customer-employee interaction and were hoping desperately that you wouldn’t be overstepping a boundary. 

His presence was just unexplainably intimidating. He held himself with such a poise you couldn’t even imagine what he would look or act like unhinged. There was never a thread out of place when it came to his appearance and only now were you aware of the fact that you were sitting across him in your dirtied apron, bleached stained pants, and the mural of coffee and whipped cream that painted your shoes. 

Violently shushing the voices of panic in your head, you looked him in the eye and found the confidence that struck just moments prior. 

“I hope this doesn’t come off as offensive or anything, but I run a blog about people who most might find strange and unusual and I interview them. Why they chose to subscribe to a certain type of style, what their influences are, if they have projects they’re working on, and everything in between.” 

You watched him nod following along and waiting for you to continue. He was giving you his undivided attention and it excited you, to say the least. 

“With that being said, I find you alluring in a way that I can’t seem to apply a reason to. Combined with the intimidating aura that you ooze naturally, I would love to have you featured on my blog next–if you would be comfortable with that.”

There was a faint smirk pulling at his lips and you couldn’t tell if it was coming from amusement or if he was planning on a way to humiliate you in a manner so sophisticated it would be hard to decipher if he was denying your request.

“So…you find me, intriguing?”

“Very. You’re like what I would imagine a modern vampire to be and it’s fascinating to me.” 

You watched his body freeze for a moment, an austere gloss swiping across his eyes. If you blinked at the wrong time you would’ve missed it, but you caught it and it made the gears in your head begin to turn. Seonghwa’s eyes honed in on you, searching for an answer that he wasn’t quite sure of yet. There was a particular intensity that you hadn’t felt from him before and as he leaned forward, resting his head on his folded hands, you began to feel small in front of him for the very first time. 

It was a feeling you’d never felt before. You almost felt similar to prey until his velvet voice cut through the static silence of lingering words. 

“When are you free next?” 

“I’m off tomorrow actually.”

“Does the evening work for you?”

“Perfect.” 

“Alright.”

He agreed.

It took a moment to realize he so passively agreed to your interview. You honestly did not expect him to agree or let alone give you the time of day to explain yourself. 

“I-I, uh, great! Um, can I borrow your phone so I can save my contact in there?”

Reaching into his pocket, he handed you his phone with such grace you wondered if he was human at all. Adding your contact quickly, you sent a text message to yourself so that you could save his number after the fact. His voice pulled you from your thoughts, you almost forgot he was sitting right across from you. 

“I’ll send you my address tomorrow evening. I figure you’ll have more content to interview if I let you see my place of residence and you can really gauge my character.”

Standing up from the chair, you nodded and thanked him again, still aghast that he agreed so easily. 

“I’ll be looking forward to your message.” You began to walk back towards the bar but stopped in your tracks. 

“Would you like a refill before you head out?”

“No, I still have plenty in here, thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Seonghwa stood up, pushing his chair in and grabbing his bag. As he made his way to the front door you waved to him, a full grin plastered on your face. Once he turned the corner of the building, you locked the doors, 9 pm finally flashing across the clock. 

Your coworker emerged from the back, drawers of money in her hands. 

“Stevie gue-”

“-Did you lock the door?”

“Yup!” 

Walking back over behind the counter you stood over your coworker. 

“And you’ll never guess what happened.”

She hummed, looking up at you and giving you the go ahead to continue.

“So you know Seonghwa right?”

“The vampire regular?”

“Yeah yeah. So I was thinking to myself while I was cleaning how he’d be the perfect person to interview for my blog. I don’t know where, but I found the courage and asked him if he’d be willing to and he agreed.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m being so serious.”

The gravity of the situation hit you again as Stevie screamed into her hand and a slew of explicatives left her mouth. Your mind started to wander as to why he agreed so quickly. Was he lonely? Did he find you attractive? Or was he simply just not as intimidating as you pegged him to be? Stevie pulled you from your thoughts as she finally calmed down.

“So when and where are you meeting?”

“Tomorrow night at his place. Speaking of which let me text him real quick.”

“You’re going to his house?!” 

“He said that it would quote give me a better gauge of his character if I saw his place of residence.” 

Stevie paused looking up at you with a growing smirk. 

“That man is Dracula for sure. “Place of residence”, he has to be ancient.”

“Oh shut up. He could be 532 years old on top of it and I still wouldn’t think twice about it. He’s so hot it’s easy to let the quirks slide by.”

Walking over to tear down the espresso bar you were using, Stevie was in a fit of giggles. 

“An old ass man breaking your dry spell is so you coded I hate it.” 

You rolled your eyes and smiled as you dumped the espresso beans in their corresponding cubes before stacking them on the counter. 

“Who says I’m gonna have sex with him?”

“Bitch if you don’t have sex with him I will slap you personally for being so stupid.” 

Both of you erupted into a fit of laughs, and both of you reverted to your normally loud selves now that you were in the comfort of a closed store. Taking the few dishes left to the sink in the back, you peeked your head out yelling to Stevie.

“You cool if I finish the dishes and then I’ll help wipe down whatever you don’t have finished out here when I’m done?”

“Yeah, I kinda wanted to mop anyway.” 

Smiling you walked back over to the sink and pulled out your phone to save Seonghwa’s contact to your phone. As you clicked done in the upper right hand corner, a message from him popped up in a banner on the top of your screen. When you clicked on it, it was his address, and at the end of the text, it was signed ~*Seonghwa. 

As you were beginning to write back a grey bubble popped up, his text following soon after. 

Seonghwa: Wasn’t sure if you had the chance to save my number to your contact list and didn’t want to leave any doubt that it wasn’t me texting you.

Y/N: no worries! i appreciate the clarity

Y/N: i also wanted to thank you again for agreeing to do this with me. i have so many questions

Seonghwa: Well, I hope you have plenty of paper or a recorder of some sort because I have quite the story to tell. 

You felt butterflies flutter in your stomach, feeling utterly giddy that this astute man was texting back and forth with you. He seemed so untouchable and yet in this moment he seemed so much more lax than his typical personality. You hearted his last message and typed one last text before you began running the dishes. 

Y/N: so excited to hear all of it :) 

Shoving your phone back into your pocket, you threw the pieces of the espresso bar into the dishwasher and quickly hand washed all the pieces that couldn’t be tetrised into the washer. Grabbing a rag, you wiped down the dishes you hand washed and placed them in their respective places out on the bar. When the dishwasher beeped, you went back to open it so all the steam could be let out allowing the dishes to cool off while you wiped down the counter with Stevie in the front.

Satisfied with how the counter looked, you grabbed the last remaining pieces of the espresso bar and locked them in place in the bar. Putting the cleaning pills into the machine, you and Stevie did a once over of the store with your eyes. Nodding to each other, you took off your aprons and went to grab your stuff in the back of the store. Gathering all of your items, you and Stevie clocked out and walked to the front of the store. 

As Stevie set the alarm for the building, she yelled over at you while you were waiting at the front door. 

“Has he texted you yet?”

“Lol yeah, he has.” 

The alarm beeped, signaling that it was clear for you to open the door, you held it open waiting for Stevie to come around the corner. As she locked the door, she turned around and looked at you motioning you to hand over your phone. 

“It’s nothing serious, yet.”

“Oh, so you’re hopeful.”

Stevie wiggled her eyebrows at you making you giggle as she read over the quick interaction you had with him. 

“He wants you so bad y/n/n.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Oh, so being delusional is only okay when we're miles away from the hot person now?”

“No, but-”

“-No buts.” 

You smiled looking down at your feet trying to hide your excitement from your friend.

“Alright, well while you dream about Twilight for the rest of the night, I gotta get home to feed Ghost. I’m pretty sure she’s meowing her head off right now. Text me when you get home, okay?” 

Stevie held up a finger gun as she began to walk to her car and you did the same thing as you walked to yours. 

“I will.”

Getting in your car, you took a decompressing breath releasing all the burdens from the day at work. As you turned your car on, you knew your mind would be clouded with thoughts of Seonghwa and what you were gonna prepare for him. 

The drive home felt more like a teleportation home but nonetheless, you were glad to be facing your building. As you got out of your car, you felt that instant dread that you’d been feeling for weeks now. It was always a sudden feeling but you couldn’t ignore it. With the defensive instinct of hunted prey cascading your nerves, you looked around the parking lot near your apartment and noticed nothing out of the ordinary. You just couldn’t shake this feeling. 

Silently grateful that one of the closer parking spaces was open, you locked your car and briskly walked towards your building. Running up the stairs when the feeling of panic that something maniacal was behind you washed over you again. When you reached the top of your stairs, you placed your back against the wall looking out across the different buildings, and still nothing seemed wrong. 

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head and opened the door to your apartment. Walking in, you quickly shut the door behind you, finally feeling safe within the walls of your home. When you clicked your lock shut, your dog, Jasper, ran to you from your bedroom. Seeing him eased your shaken nerves, but only momentarily before he was distracted by something. 

His happy tail lowered and tucked between his back legs as low growls echoed through him. Slowly, he stalked over to your window and looked out toward the other buildings in the complex. Your blinds open just enough so that a small amount of the streetlight could peek through. 

Not wanting to think about whatever was on your tail anymore this evening, you walked over and shut the blinds completely so that neither Jasper nor you could see out the window. Grabbing the remote to your TV, you put on something random just to have background noise so you wouldn’t have to wrestle with the silence. Putting down some food for Jasper, you made yourself a quick dinner so you could begin drafting your questions for tomorrow.  

A half an hour soon turned into a full hour, then that one hour quickly became two and when you finally looked at your phone again it was 1 am. Satisfied with what you came up with, you closed your notebook and got yourself ready for bed. Finishing your routine, you checked your front door to make sure it was locked. A pit of worried confusion settled in your stomach as you noticed your top lock was left unchained. As you tried to reason with yourself you settled confidently on the fact that you probably just forgot when you rushed inside. Besides, the main lock was still set in place. 

You called for Jasper and opened the door to your balcony so he could use the bathroom one last time. While you were outside, you didn’t feel that oppressive feeling but you still felt like you had eyes on you and Jasper confirmed your suspicions as his tail tucked again and he stared into the distance. Fear began to freeze your body again and you wanted to get back inside as soon as possible.

“C’mon bud, let’s go to bed.” 

Jasper shook his head, his collar jingling in the night air. Walking inside, you locked the balcony door and shut off all the lights in the main area of your apartment. Calling for Jasper to follow you to bed, you laid out all your blankets before patting the mattress to signal him to come up. You turned on your LED lights, needing some sort of light to quell your nerves about how you’d been feeling since you got home. The deep purple, shining a tone similar to a black light only lit up a corner of your room. It was just enough to provide you with comfort and the promise of sleep started weighing on your eyes. 

The weight of Jasper on your sheets calmed you down and slowly sleep overcame your body. Your last thought before drifting off was not about the anxiety you felt but rather the excitement for the solo time you were going to have with Seonghwa. If only you could’ve discerned that the anxiety you felt was also courtesy of the man you were bewitched by. 

~`*`~

Your body felt like it was made of stone. You’d never felt pressure like this before let alone right out of sleep. Your eyes slowly pried open and the comfort that normally showered your room was nowhere to be felt. You tried to move your limbs, but as you made the conscious effort to move them, they stayed restrained in place. Stuck, as if they were chained to the mattress. 

As you tried to roll your body over off of its back, you realized that dead weight feeling was possessing your entire body. You were paralyzed, trammeled to what was once the solace of your bed. There was a damning pressure on your chest and it was beginning to feel like you couldn't breathe. Any breath that you could’ve caught was now lost to terror as you realized you could only move your eyes. As you scanned your room, you noticed Jasper standing on the bed, low growls escaping him as he pointed to a corner in your bedroom. 

As you followed his stance your eyes met a tall, statuesque figure standing in the corner of your room, its presence was boring into you. If you could see its eyes, you’d imagine they’d be all black, a harrowing intent lying behind them. The figure's energy felt familiar but the terror of the unknown overshadowed your reason. Fear tingled your body and you wondered if anybody would be able to help you. 

Your mind raced, wondering if this was a twisted realistic dream or if you were about to meet an early demise. The figure barely seemed to move, let alone breathe, but the energy radiating from it was horrifying. You felt like you could faintly see a smile forming where its face was. You tried to scream, but it felt like your mouth was sewn shut. Not sound or even a fraction of the movement of the scream escaped your body and it left you feeling hopeless. 

Closing your eyes, you hoped that maybe you’d be able to force your body back to sleep and whatever that thing was would dissipate into thin air the same way it appeared. A tingling feeling slowly raced through your body and you felt your limbs become your own again. Opening your eyes back up, nothing was standing in the corner anymore and that hot, oppressive feeling that was clawing at the room had faded. 

Jasper curled himself back onto your bed seemingly calmed down enough to go back to sleep. You couldn’t ignore the steady racing of your heart while you kept your dark lights illuminating the room. You were subconsciously just waiting for something else to appear. Grabbing the remote to your lights, you switched the color to a soft white, needing to have some sort of brightness to allow you to feel safe in your room again. 

~`*`~

As you tossed and turned, the hours quickly ticked by and the once navy sky peeking through your window was now turning into a canvas of pale blues and greys. An unmistakable gloom casting over the early morning sky.  You couldn’t even force yourself back to sleep, the anxiety you felt being too great to even think about sleep. Every time you closed your eyes it felt like heat was bearing down in your room, an unseen presence feeling disrespected that you would dare to ignore it. 

Sighing, you sat up in your bed and reached over to your blinds to open them a little bit more, allowing more natural light to brighten your room. For some reason, you felt that if you had nature’s light spill into your room, whatever anxiety you felt would dissipate enough for you to get some type of sleep. Checking your phone, the time flashed 7:32 and you were satisfied enough with the amount of light that was coming through. With Jasper tucked into your legs, you found a comfortable enough position and felt your mind relax enough so that you could will yourself to sleep. 

When you woke up again, it was still overcast and everything was just a bright grey color. It was oddly eerie. Some wind picked up out of nowhere and coupled with the melancholic tone of the weather already, you felt like you were in your own personal thriller. You just hoped that nothing else out of the ordinary was going to happen today. When you checked your phone and it flashed 12:52, you were pleased that you at least got some sleep. Scrolling through your notifications, you saw you had a few texts from Stevie. 

steviee: share your location with me before you forget 

steviee: cuz i know you'll end up at his house and then i won't know where you are 

steviee: i know i have the address but what if you go somewhere else

steviee: r u asleep still what's goin on 

You chuckled at your phone, your friend never failing to make you laugh when you needed it. It almost made you forget about the panic you had felt all night. 

y/n: yeah i just woke up sorry 

y/n: i had fuckin sleep paralysis and couldn't go to sleep until it was light outside smh 

y/n: location should be shared now btw 

steviee: damn, did you see the hat man? 

Stevie hearted your message saying you shared your location and her text about seeing “the hat man” brought you some needed joy. Having someone to be able to joke about the whole ordeal of last night made it seem not so terrifying. 

y/n: i literally couldn’t tell you who it was all i know is that it scared tf outta me 

steviee: right..right

steviee: well, lemme know when u leave tn and good luck

y/n:tyy :3

Shutting your phone off, you decided you should probably start getting ready so you’d have enough time to get yourself together as well as grab anything extra you’d need for the interview. Getting up, you stared at your closet trying to come up with something that would be enticing but professional enough to not raise any flags. You couldn’t deny that you had a bit of a crush on Seonghwa, but it seemed like such a distant reality that you tried to not pay much attention to it. 

You wanted to impress him though. He always looked so polished and you wanted him to feel as allured by you as you did him. The thought crossed your mind that anything you wore would be better than the work clothes he always saw you in, so you settled on something middle of the road. You threw a form fitting, black longsleeve, a black skirt, and your leather jacket on your bed and then sauntered into your bathroom to run through your routine. 

Between your shower, and dancing in between songs while you did your makeup, it quickly became 4 pm. Getting dressed, you gazed over your appearance looking for any immediate imperfections you had to fix. When you found none, you sprayed your perfume, grabbed your shoes, and walked out into the main room of your apartment. Opening the door to your balcony, you let Jasper out while you set out some food for him, figuring that you’d be out fairly late with Seonghwa’s interview. Setting his bowls down, Jasper came prancing inside, rubbing up against your leg. As you locked the door, you showered him with affection and then grabbed your purse to make your way out. 

You were leaving a little earlier than you expected, but you needed to get a new notebook for Seonghwa and you wanted to grab something to eat beforehand. Every new interview you did with someone, you wanted to grant them their own notebook, making the experience feel more personal to each individual. You had a growing collection piled in your room and you were plenty excited to add another. Looking back over your apartment to make sure you didn’t forget anything, you looked at Jasper.

“Be a good boy and watch the house, baby.” 

You flicked on the light so he wouldn’t be left in the dark and you made your way out of your apartment. When you stepped out the door though, your foot landed on something else other than the concrete. When you looked down, there was a leather bound journal with gold embellishments on the spine. You picked it up, inspecting it, and to your surprise, it seemed brand new. You wondered if it was maybe a misplaced delivery, but there was no package sticker on it. 

Seeing it as a blessing in disguise, you stuffed the journal into your bag and walked down the steps to the parking lot. One less stop meant you’d be able to debrief with Stevie before you made your way to Seonghwa’s. Driving the memorized route you had for work, you got there fairly quickly with traffic having died down. When you got out of your car, the sun was slowly tucking itself behind the mountains, casting an angelic golden glow across the sky. Walking into your job, you were happy to see Stevie at the front so that you could get the free food you wanted without the hassle. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Coming to get breakfast so I don’t pass out in front of that man.”

“It’s literally five, babe.” 

“And it’s still my breakfast.” 

Grabbing a sandwich from the display case, you slid it across the counter gingerly and looked at Stevie your lips downturned and your eyebrow slightly raised. 

“You want a drink?”

“No, just a water, if I have coffee I might actually shit myself.” 

You waited on the wall closest to behind the counter and continued talking with your friend trying to calm your nerves. Every time you had a flicker of a thought about Seonghwa you felt your heart race. Stevie’s voice pulled you from your thoughts which you were thankful for because they were about to spiral again.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re going on a date.”

Panicked you looked down at your outfit and then back to Stevie.

“Why? Is this too much? Should I go change?”

Stevie laughed and it confused you, furthering the thoughts of you looking like a fool. The timer on the oven beeped and she put your sandwich in a bag and turned around to hand it to you. 

“No, it’s not too much. Just wanted to see you squirm. You look hot.” 

Your eyes lacked amusement, a deadpanned glare shot her way. 

“Not funny.” 

“You needed to loosen up, I could smell the tension on you the moment you walked in. Hopefully he fucks it out of you.” 

“Stevie!”

She looked over her shoulder smiling at you as she walked back over to the register to help a customer. As you began to eat your sandwich, your phone vibrated in your front pocket. Pulling it out, your heart rate sped up reading that the notification was from Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa: Good evening. I hope this message finds you well. I’m ready whenever you are.

Why does he talk like that? 

You didn’t realize you had zoned out until your screen started to fade to black, your dazed reflection staring back at you. In your staggered panic, you gnawed away at your sandwich not even recognizing that you finished it until you went for a coherent bite and chomped on nothing but paper. Crumbling the bag and throwing it into the trash, you grabbed the water that Stevie left on the counter and almost got away with an Irish goodbye. 

“Text me everything!” 

“I will!” 

You pushed out of the glass door and got back into your car. Digging through your bag, you searched for your lip products before you started the vehicle. Feeling that you had fretted over your appearance enough today, you threw everything back into your bag and loaded Seonghwa’s address into your phone.  

You turned up your music, needing something to drown out the endless panic you were having now that you were actively making your way to his house. Your GPS said it was only about a ten minute drive from where you were so at the very least you were thankful to be close to an area you were familiar with. The further you drove the route to his house, the more you realized it was taking you in a similar direction to where you lived. 

Passing your apartment complex, you began driving in an area that was visibly more prestigious and affluent. The few apartment complexes turned into luxury mansions and you could only imagine from the outside, the grandeur of what the homes looked like inside. Turning on one last residential street, you turned into a development that had a guarded gate. 

“Hi, Y/n L/n for Seonghwa Park on 7772 Seraph Lane.” 

“Alright. I need to scan your ID.” 

The guard waited at your window as you rummaged in your bag for your wallet. Pulling out your ID, the man scanned the barcode and walked back into the small building. As he typed your info into the computer, he quickly printed out your guest pass. 

“Seems like you were already in the system. Have a nice day.” 

Thanking the man you tossed the pass up on the dashboard of your car. As you drove through the neighborhood, you took in how beautifully everything was maintained. The road you drove down was shrouded in willow oak trees, almost hiding the darkening sky. As you made one last right, you pulled up in front of his house. Or, mansion you suppose. 

His front yard was well kept, a willow tree hanging on the lawn. The front of his home was imposing and you felt out of touch being in such an environment. His street was quiet, almost unnervingly quiet. There was no excess noise from any main road, and with nothing but a few cars adorning the driveways of the surrounding houses, you felt unusually small. Out of place. Stepping out of your car, you grabbed your bag and fixed yourself one last time in the reflection of your car door. Locking your car, you took a deep breath and walked up Seonghwa’s elaborate driveway finally clicking into a semi-professional mentality. 

Ringing his doorbell, you waited patiently to see him on the other side. When you heard the lock of the door click out of place, one of the large, red oak double doors opened to reveal Seonghwa in one of the more relaxed outfits you’d ever seen him in. He was clad in black jeans, a mesh long sleeve draped across his upper half, and a pair of leather mules on his feet. 

A wide smile spread across his face as his eyes met your own. A glint of sheer mirth expressed across his features. 

“Y/n! So glad you made it, I hope it wasn’t too much of a hassle to find. Please, come in.” 

Timidly bowing your head, a light chuckle left you as you stepped through the front door.

“Oh, it was no trouble! Me being in the system already made the guard situation a breeze.”

Closing the door behind you, you watched him as he began to speak again. 

“I pray you didn’t find that alarming in any way, just wanted to lessen the amount of effort it would take to get beyond the gates.”

“Oh, I figured that was the reason. I appreciate you looking out for me.” 

A gentle and pleased smile spread lightly across his lips, his eyes closing only for a moment before he continued being so hospitable. 

“Can I get you anything to drink before we start?” 

“Um, a water would be great.” 

“Come.”

Seonghwa motioned his hand to follow you and as you trailed behind him you gazed at everything you could inside of his home. The ceilings were intimidatingly tall and his house was spotless, somehow more well put together than the man himself. He had macabre and abstract artwork and busts decorated his walls and some end tables. The hallway to the kitchen seemed so far away from the front door, but when you entered the room you were left in even more awe. 

“You have a beautiful home, Hwa–Seonghwa! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“-It’s quite alright, y/n. You can call me Hwa if you’d like.”

Nodding silently, you swallowed your embarrassment. Sliding you a glass full of water, you thanked him and he motioned for you to follow him again. Walking through his home, you felt like when Belle trailed behind Beast when being led to her quarters for the first time. Everything your eyes landed on either looked ancient or worth a million dollars. The hallways were long and imposing and you wondered how he lived here all alone. 

Maybe that’s something I’ll add to ask.

Approaching a white door at the end of the hallway with golden fixtures, he opened it and guided you into what you assumed to be his study. He had a table set up with chairs facing each other and he pulled your chair out as you entered the room with him. Seonghwa sat across from you, smoothing out his top as if he was being filmed on camera. Setting your bag on the table, you pulled out your phone opening up the voice memos to serve as your recorder and you pulled out the journal that you found at your front door. 

Just like last night, there was a glint in Seonghwa’s eyes that you would’ve missed if you didn’t look at the right time. You barely furrowed your eyebrows, not trying to draw attention to something so small. He had a microscopic smirk pulling at the side of his mouth, almost like he was trying to hide a smile from forming. Taking a deep breath, you looked up at Seonghwa, that glint now gone and substituted with his usual stoic gaze. 

“Ready?”

“Indeed.” 

Pressing record on your phone, you opened up to the first page of the journal massaging the page so that the spine would bend to your liking. Going to fish in your bag for a pen, you realize it was the one thing that you forgot. Sighing you looked to Seonghwa. 

“You wouldn't happen to have a pen would you?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” 

Getting up, Seonghwa walked to another desk in the room that was accompanied by a computer. Walking back over to where you were, he handed you a black and gold fountain pen that had the same exact markings that were detailed on the spine of the journal you picked up. Hesitant, you took the pen from him, your brows still furrowed as you looked at him to thank him. There was a cold, obsessive tone to his gaze as he watched you inspect the markings on the pen. 

“The same markings are on this journal that I found left outside my apartment today! That’s so weird. Kinda cool, but still weird.” 

A little extra air escaped his nose as he looked at you with amusement. 

“How peculiar.”

You felt your gut stir in anxiety for a moment but swallowed the feeling as quickly as it came. Blaming it on the fact that you had finally started the interview, and you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. Surely, he hadn’t left the journal, he didn’t even have a fraction of an idea of where you lived. A fiendish levity was cast upon his face when you looked up at him again, settling in to ask him the first question. 

His gaze was heavy. Unwavering as it seemed he was creating a mental image of this moment to save forever and needed to capture every minor detail. 

“So, what drew you to a town like this?”

~`*`~

taglist: @bellamuerte1987 @seonghwasstar

[critrolesideblog]

A little ficlet inspired by this post by @thevalleyisjolly

"Welcome home, dear."

Essek glided across the threshold with his usual grace. He let his disguise of warm, brown skin and small, rounded ears fall away with his cloak as he placed it on his usual hook with a well-practiced flourish. His hands found to their usual places on Caleb's neck and waist, grasping firmly as he pulled him in for a kiss. But Caleb noted there was something unusual about him. More than his usual happiness and relief at arriving safely, there was bright delight twinkling like stars in his eyes and a smile peeking out from the corners of his lips.

"I have gossip," he announced, breaking into a proper grin, and Caleb laughed.

"Ach, I should have known."

Essek's grin only widened as their hands interlaced and they began the ascent up the stairs to the bedroom that housed the tower entrance.

"During the lunch break at the symposium, conversation at my table turned to the unfortunate absence of a certain Zemnian transmutation specialist."

"Oh, boy."

"What's-her-name heard he took down the Cerberus Assembly single-handed, and so-and-so was hoping to gain a glimpse of Widogast's Transmogrification. And didn't you know, one Xalser Tecklaras heard Professor Widogast was quite handsome as well as an excellent speaker! Handsome in a roguish sort of way, so-and-so heard! What a pity! Tecklaras was hoping to make his acquaintance! Did anyone know if he was married?"

Caleb could feel his cheeks starting to redden. Essek's grin turned mischievous with a quick flash of fang as he watched Caleb's reaction sidelong.

"Of course, I heard that Professor Widogast has quite the history of romantic entanglements -- lovers of all variety seen entering and exiting his home --"

"Oh my gods."

"And one, Professor Talib, was only too happy to verify my account! She heard much the same from Archmage Becke of Rexxentrum."

Caleb paused before the tower door to roll his eyes and sigh long-sufferingly. What happens when you get a bunch of wizards in one place? They gossip like Schulkinder.

"Ah, but Professor Ieteru saved the best for last," Essek leaned in closely, eyes ablaze. He was squeezing Caleb's hand tightly, and his dimples were showing as he smiled widely, lit by the arcane glow of the door. "She heard from someone in Yios, who heard from someone in Emon, who heard from someone in Nicodranas, that Professor Widogast is not human at all, but actually… a dragon."

Caleb stared, mouth agape.

"W--was?"

"That is not even the best part," Essek gasped, sweet laughter dancing through his words. "Most of the other professors agreed!" He leaned forward, closing the small gap between them, resting his head against Caleb's shoulder as he struggled to stay upright, his body shaking with mirth. "The point of contention was not whether you were a dragon, but what sort of dragon you were! Ieteru insisted gold, Talib, white, and Tecklaras, blue!"

Caleb stood there a moment, alternating between shocked processing of this new information and savoring his lover's closeness.

"Well, what did you say to that?" He asked at last.

Essek straightened, his smile positively wicked.

"I told them I knew for a fact the correct color was copper."

[sorceresssundries]

Writing prompt - Gale surprises Tav with a bunch of red roses and a candlelit dinner.

The Rose of Reithwin

Pairing: Gale x gn Tav - SFW

Word Count: 2k

You must have sensed i'm struck in a rut! Here you go, my lovely anon. I got a bit carried away. I hope you enjoy <3

Tav ached all the way down to their bones. The lack of sunlight, breeze, and even the stagnation of time itself was a burden which they could feel cloying in their veins. Tav dreamed of flowers and sunlight, of food that wasn’t dried out and looted from long-rotted barrels or the backpacks of fallen soldiers. Tav ached for comfort in a land which still throbbed with ongoing pain.

After a long needed wash in whatever water they could find amongst the shadows, Tav headed back to camp, hoping to find some solace in Gale’s warm words and strong arms. It had been a couple of nights since they had spent their first, proper night together. Just the memory of it was enough to spark a small flame of comfort, but Tav needed to be in his company for it to fan into a heat warm enough to melt away the icy shards of the shadow curse. 

To Tav’s surprise, Karlach was hovering outside Gale’s tent,  excitement evident in the sparks and flickers glowing from her engine. She couldn’t stay still, practically vibrating with energy. She was dressed... unusually.

“You’re wearing a bow tie?” 

“I know!” Karlach’s ability to light up with even the slightest taste of joy was enough to keep even the darkest shadows at bay. “I found it on a corpse!!” She added with unbound enthusiasm.

“Oh, well... well done?”

“Thanks! Oh, wait a minute.” She rummaged around in her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper covered in elegant writing, along with a single, slightly flattened, rose. “Sorry, it looked better before I sat on it.”

Tav took the paper, perplexed. “This... is a menu.” They read over the intricate, swirling script in total confusion.

“Yeah! Gale asked if I would help him, and well... he said I may have gone a bit too far with everything, but I thought I could help! He, um, said the Simulacrum freaked you out a bit last time.” She mimicked the jaunty pose that Gale’s mirror image had performed a few nights ago, and Tav tried their best not to laugh at the impression. “And he was busy concentrating on other magicky, wizard stuff, so I told him to leave it with me.”

“So... here I am, my liege.” She bowed dramatically. “Mr. Dekarios awaits the pleasure of your incom... incom... incompra...” She suddenly unfurled another, smaller note from her top pocket and scanned over it, mouthing the words soundlessly. “Fuck it, his handwriting is awful. Gale is waiting for you at the Waning Moon.”

The abandoned pub was not far from where they had set up camp, and Karlach pointed to a trail of floating lanterns illuminating a path for Tav to follow. They glowed with gentle magic, and Tav grinned to themselves, amused by the wizard's flair for the dramatic. Gale was always one to create a sense of wonder, and it seemed like whatever he had planned for the evening would be no exception.

When Tav reached the building and pushed open the doors, they could not believe the view. 

In the centre of the room stood Gale, his hands aglow with arcane energy as he conducted a symphony of magic. With a wave of his hand, ribbons of light twisted and twirled, weaving themselves into elaborate decorations. Flowers bloomed from thin air, their petals unfolding in bursts of colour to settle upon various neglect-scarred surfaces.

“You’re here!” Gale said, his voice filled with warmth and excitement. “I’m almost finished.”

Tav watched in awe as Gale orchestrated the magic around them, bringing the abandoned building to life with his spellcraft. Tables appeared, draped in luxurious fabrics and adorned with silver candelabras that flickered with ethereal flames. Chairs formed from wisps of mist solidified under their touch, their cushions embroidered with intricate patterns that seemed to shift and shimmer. The cracked wooden floorboards were mended, and gleamed under the soft glow of floating candles. The grimy, stained walls had brightened, and were now streaked with vines of ivy that bloomed with small, colourful flowers.

In the centre, a table for two stood, set with fine china, crystal goblets, and a centrepiece of roses that flitted between various shades of rich red in the candlelight. The once dingy bar was now a haven in a hellscape.

“You… you did all this? For me?”

Gale made his way over to hold Tav’s hand, and the contact immediately relieved a tight coil within their chest. “I meant what I said. If we had more time… well...” He gestured to the scene around him. “I would do it all better.”

Music spilled from an unknown source, soft and comforting. It had been so long since Tav had heard music, since the air around them had been filled with anything other than death and shadow. The song was familiar, warm...

Gale seemed to pick up on their thoughts. “You may not remember, but... it's a song Alfira played at the party with the Tieflings.” He blushed slightly, the pink in his cheeks glowing in the soft candlelight.  “It was playing just after our conversation, after I told you to go enjoy your evening.”

Tav let a smirk play at their lips, recalling their attempt at propositioning the wizard. The heady mixture of joy and wine had urged them toward Gale, to flirt with the man with the disarming smile, who had very gallantly turned them down. 

“So… you did want me that evening?”

“Oh, I wanted you.” All hint of self-consciousness dropped from his expression, leaving only raw sincerity. “This song was playing when I realised I was falling in love with you.”

Tav’s heart fluttered. The music made the air feel lighter. For a moment, they were not soldiers in a battle-scarred town but two lovers in the bliss-filled infancy of a new relationship. Where possibilities crackled with lively potential. Where each touch and loving word was a promise heavy with pure, unfiltered intention.

“I remember that night,” Tav said softly. “I remember wishing for more moments we could just be us for a little while.”

Gale’s eyes were a mixture of hope and regret. “Maybe we can still have those moments. Maybe we can find a way.”

Tav squeezed his hand. “Maybe you already have.” “I hope so.” He kissed Tav’s poor, battle-worn fingers. “I am torn between wishing you had never had to endure any of this horror, to being extraordinarily grateful to have met you.” He was suddenly aching with sadness. “It is a heartbreaking realisation, to know the person you love is in your life due to a tragedy you wish had never befallen them.” He cupped the face of his love, and stroked his thumb along fresh scars and the fading stain of bruises which lurked just under their skin. “No-one should ever have to learn how brave they can be.”

He leant forward then, and brushed his lips against theirs. Chaste and gentlemanlike, the kind of kiss one would expect from a gallant partner on a first date, and Tav couldn’t help but think of the heavy, moaned kisses which Gale had lain across every inch of their body just a few nights prior. He really was doing everything backwards. 

Tav decided they would play along with the honourable behaviour, for now, and instead turned their attention to the beautiful display of roses. 

“A very traditional choice, Mr.Dekarios.” 

“‘Rose is a term of endearment in Waterdeep. To refer to one’s beloved.” His eyes were soft and shimmered in the light. “I thought they would be fitting.”

Tav picked up one of the roses and admired the velvet of its petals, the rich, wine-like scent, and the sharp bite of thorns.  “I hope you do not think the thorns are due to any slip in my arcane proficiency. I know it’s just illusionary, but.. I wanted to make the whole thing as.. human as possible. The old ways, if you will. Thorns and all.” 

“Well, whatever you’ve done - the food smells incredible.” The savoury scent of roasting meat mingled with the earthy, buttery smell of cooked vegetables and fresh herbs enveloped Tav in much-needed comfort. 

“That is no illusion, my rose.” He pulled out one of the chairs, and motioned for Tav to sit and with a click of his fingers two mage hands appeared with plates of fresh, steaming food. “That is the dedicated endeavour of a man with exceptional culinary skill and limited resources.”

“How on earth did you find all this?!” 

“Well, I may have used some of my charm and resorted to a bit of bribery.”

“You’re rubbish at bribery!

“Yes, okay, that’s true. But Astarion isn’t, and for a small fee, he was able to get me what I needed.” Gale raised his hands at Tav’s indignant expression. “I did not ask too many questions, and he gave no answers—so, for all intents and purposes, this food has been legitimately acquired and therefore should be enjoyed guilt-free.” He smiled his lazy, heart-melting smile and tucked into the meal.

The food was delicious, the wine full and rich, the company unrivalled. 

Tav thought how full of life this little pub in Reithwin must have been all those years ago. How locals would come through the doors after a day's hard graft. How mason’s would grip pint glasses with dusty hands and let the cold beer soothe their calloused fingers.

This place must have been filled with wine-fuelled singing, drinking games and endless, mindless, repetitive stories of the residents of Reithwin. A place for midday companionship, and late night solitude. This little heart of Reithwin town would have beat with stories and laughter of those lost to shadow.

And for a little while, in the long-dead town of Reithwin, life returned. The glow that enveloped Gale and Tav outshone that of even the moon’s blessing. There was light enough here to cast out curses, just for a little while. Just for two lovers in that hopeful, crack of a dawning relationship, where the impossible danced and shone, and took no notice of lurking shadows. 

As they ate and laughed and shared stories of times before tadpoles and curses and nautiloids, Tav took in the unrivalled beauty of the setting Gale had conjured with awe.

“I’ve never seen illusionary magic like this.” Tav ran their finger through one of the flames from a candle, and felt the heat bite their skin.

“That's because this is no ordinary illusion.” He reached over to hold Tav’s hand across the table, stroking them gently with his thumb.

“This is a promise of things to come. This is an illusion that I intend to make into reality, and the magic is all the stronger for it.”

There were no words, conjurations, or illusions powerful enough for Gale to express his gratitude, or his genuine intention. He knew that promises and declarations would not be enough, that these conjured roses were just saplings in the entire sun-filled garden he wanted to grow for Tav. It would take time, it would take nerve and messy, mortal dedication. But he would do it. 

He would plant seeds, feed them with water pulled from the deepest well . He would sweat and toil under the relentless summer sun, remaining vigilant through the bleak winters. With human hands, he would grow flowers, watching patiently as the slow spell of time brought life and beauty from nothing. He would wait, earning each soft-petaled rose, cherishing the joy they would bring, ribbon-tied and wine-scented, to his brave love. He would place them in crystal vases, where light would dance through and spill colour throughout their home.

And, when the inevitable happened, when the petals curled and dipped and eventually fell like feathers. It will have been worth it. All the toil and grief and mortal determination of it all will have been worth it, just to remind his love of the promise made in that hopeful night in Reithwin.