#one winged masquerade AU

[crisiscutie]

Dissidia Safer Sephiroth Musings

Once he ascended to godhood, Sephiroth became dedicated to spreading despair and ensuring his own paradise alongside his darling.

Content Warning: Mommy Kink, Slight NSFW.

༻❁༺ After becoming one with his darling, he knew all of her feelings and thoughts, as she did his. Yet, for a peculiar reason, there was still some individuality left over.

༻❁༺ This Sephiroth is undoubtedly the most relaxed compared to his counterparts. He accomplished his goals and enjoyed a state of complete harmony with his mother-darling. Considering everything they had endured to get to that point, their paradise was a well-deserved reward.

༻❁༺  Taking after his darling in her past life, he developed a penchant for humming. He'd hum his favorite melody for the darling as they snuggled in their paradise world.

༻❁༺ His darling was a sleepyhead, as her body needed constant nourishment. This was just one of the few consequences from the merging of her and JENOVA, and then her merge with Sephiroth himself. The burden of physical ailments fell on her, so he made it his mission and purpose to ensure her welfare.

༻❁༺  His calming humming became a powerful tool for inducing her sleepiness, especially when she was resistant to rest.

༻❁༺ He would drain the life force of the worlds they conquered and convert it into crystals for her consumption.

༻❁༺ His fury has no limits when anything even slightly inconveniences her or interrupts her naps. But the most unforgivable act is to separate them. They will claw through ANYTHING to reunite and be in each other's embrace again.

༻❁༺ They are each other's strength, but also each other's greatest vulnerability.

༻❁༺ They had a habit of finishing each other's sentences, which always unsettled their enemies.

༻❁༺ Sometimes, they would engage in trivial yet playful debates in their mind just to tease each other. Like when she pouted because she didn't want to let go of his arm when they had to fight their enemies. His solution? Tell her she's more than welcome to cling to his arm while they fought. How would it work? ....He'd make do with it.

༻❁༺ Whenever birthing their monstrous spawn became difficult for her, he embraced her and his wings enveloped her. Then he would softly whisper words of love to soothe her pain.

༻❁༺ When he gained the ability to traverse between different universes, the first thing he did was to adopt the younger version of his darling, giving the lonely girl the parental love she always craved.

༻❁༺ The young girl's fearful response to the despair he inflicted upon her tormentors and the world that had brought her so much pain perplexed him, though.

༻❁༺ He was patient and calculating, slowly coaxing the girl out of her scared shell by giving her everything else she wanted. She wants friends? He uses the spawn born from his darling to play the role of her friends by utilizing their mimicry ability. Whatever she wanted, he will get it for her. He'd burn worlds just to keep her warm.

༻❁༺ Before long, she assimilated into their way of life, accepting Sephiroth and his darling as her parents.

༻❁༺ Sephiroth's unstoppable dynasty left a legacy of destruction and despair across countless worlds. And only more will fall.

These two are definitely the most lovey-dovey out of the Sephy/Darling pairings I've done so far. Sheesh, you'd be tempted to tell them to get a room, xD

Dark Horse for how Sephy feels about Darling and E.T for how Darling feels about Sephy.

[hauntingrabbits]

Batman my little pony AU. Part 2 here, Part 3 here

More info on these under the cut!

1. Sundown Mane/Batpony (Bruce Wayne)

His backstory & general situation is pretty much identical to every other batman out there so I wont get into it.

Other notes:

-His cutie mark is a masquerade mask that I tried to make vaguely bat-shaped. The general public sees his Cutie Mark through the lense of his reputation, and he leans into it heavily to obscure the truth. In interviews, he presents it as being tied to hosting galas (it’s the reason he started hosting those huge masquerade balls in the first place) and/or his fashionable looks, but in truth it’s far more representative of his stealth and disguise capabilities, as well as his masked night time hobbies as a whole.

-He’s not an actual bat-pony in any way, the bat wing appearance is just the costume (intentionally designed that way for intimidation, battle, and obscuring his identity further). Though most citizens assume he’s a true bat-pony, other rumors range from him being a vampire, to an Earth pony with false tech-based wings, to a magically disguised alicorn, to a spirit of the night.

-If Batman were actually to be a pony I think he’d 100% be an earth pony, because his big thing is relying on skill and tech rather than power and he has the whole “normal guy amongst gods” thing going on. HOWEVER. There are actual bat ponies in this show. How am I not supposed to utilize that somehow for the guy whose name is BATMAN? Also with Sundown I think being a Pegasus just fits the playboy personality front he puts up. I don’t know why, its just vibes.

-I think he just doesn’t fly much while patrolling as batpony, instead using his wings for extra jump or for intimidation and cover like with his cape. They’re probably steel-tipped or something too. He doesn’t rely on flight for advantage and trains entirely grounded because he doesn’t want to be dependent on flight and find himself lost if his wings are ever incapacitated.

2. Apollo Honeyscales/Two-Face (Harvey Dent)

Fascinated by the Equestrian legal system and craving a more organized society than what was offered by his generally disorderly and solitary fellow Chimeras, Apollo moved to Gotham to pursue higher education. Unfortunately, ponies are often intimidated by, if not downright terrified of Chimeras, so though Chimera cultures usually give each head equal social weight and three individual names, Apollo quickly adapted to instead try to present himself as pony-like as possible. He used a singular name and pronoun for his whole body, presented the less intimidating, herbivorous-looking goat as his “main” head, and eventually even took to having a faux Cutie Mark applied for media and court appearances. Prior to the attack, the lion and the snake head were never seen talking in public, and even in private the only ponies to have heard them speak were his close friends Sundown Mane and Glider Gold.

After being attacked with acid in court, Scales succumbed to injury and had to be amputated, while Honeybite was left alive but severely scarred. With this event, Apollo’s and Honeybite’s already fragile mental states from years of pony society othering them, the weight of their job, and personal repression finally snapped in their grief and anger, leading Honeybite to fully take the reins and create the criminal persona of Two-Face. Attempts from both Sundown and Glider and to reach out since have been unsuccessful.

Other Notes:

-According to the wiki only one chimera shows up in the whole show so. I made stuff up. -Chimeras typically being solitary is based on the fact we only ever see one in the show. This solitary nature would make it hard for them to have a widespread legal system at all, let alone to enforce it; thus Apollo’s original fascination with the foreign pony legal system. The Chimera in the show also has individual names for each head, each with a slightly different style (the goat following pony name conventions with the name Pumpkin Cake, the tiger following a slightly more violent version of pony name conventions with the name Sweetkill, and the Snake bluntly just being named Snakey). I tried to follow similar conventions for Apollo. I was most happy with the name Scales, because it followed the blunt snake naming convention while also sort of doubling as a scales of justice reference. Apollo is just a reference to Harvey’s nickname in some of the comics, and Honeybite is just for fun.

-His perfectly split coat is unique even among other chimeras, and as Apollo he was generally considered attractive and “exotic” by Equestrian media outlets.

-The temporary Cutie Mark application was done professionally. (Surely ponies have perfected this art, right? Like this has to be something pony society does and has services for, right? Ponies covering up embarrassing Cutie Marks, blank flanks covering up an embarrassing lack of a Curie Mark, Ponies getting Cutie Marks done for costumes, theater, movies, etc… you get it.) Apollo’s choice of a faux Cutie Mark is meant to serve as both a way of further integrating himself into pony society and a proclamation of his legal skills.

-Apollo was a genuinely great lawyer. Ponies on defense were often so preoccupied at the terror of having a lion and a snake silently stare them down that they wouldn’t realize it was actually the goat they should’ve really been afraid of until their entire case had already been ruthlessly torn to shreds.

3. Glider Gold (Gilda Gold)

Even prior to their relationship and subsequent engagement, Glider had long been Apollo’s closest friend and confidant. She saw the way his job and keeping up his image was tearing him apart long before the acid attack, and she deeply regrets not trying harder to get him the help he needed before it was too late. Multiple news outlets have been trying to get an interview with her and their efforts only increase every time Two-Face shows up in the news (despite Sundown’s efforts to dissuade them). She hasn’t been the same since the attack and Apollo’s disappearance, losing interest in her work and finding her friendship with Sundown heavily strained as they both feel the weight of Apollo’s absence.

Other notes:

-I wasn’t even going to draw Gilda originally because she’s such a minor character in Batman stuff but as I was writing out Apollo’s background she nudged her way back in. I like her too much.

-This version is based on her very first iteration where she was a sculptor. Her green coat is a reference to that version’s accompanying Two-Face (also his first iteration), who had green scarring.

- The choice for her to be a pegasus was mainly just to go with her silly name, but I do think being a pegasus would be beneficial to a sculptor. No ladder required to work on high details just fly up there.

-I am not immune to the bruce/harvey/gilda agenda

[winwintea]

encore

PAIRING ↬ actor!park sunghoon x fem!reader

TAGS ↬ thriller, romance, action, mystery, suspense, body swap au, supernatural au, musical theatre setting, everyone is pretty sus, sunghoon is a sassy king for like 5 seconds, he also breaks the 4th wall randomly

SUMMARY ↬ you aren’t giselle.

so why do you look like her? are you in giselle’s body right now? then where’s your actual body? and where in the world is the real giselle? is the lead actor who seems to be the only one to recognize you actually on your side? or will you get caught by the others and perish in a body that isn’t your own? so many questions and so little time.

WORD COUNT ↬ 8.1k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ my official enhablur debut 🥺🥺 (ignore the jay fic i wrote last year i’m pretending like it doesn’t exist) thank u @polarisjisung my love for encouraging me to post as well as beta read <33 we stepping out of the comfort zone with this one!

PLAYLIST ↬ fatal trouble - enhypen; marionette - red velvet; masquerade - chung ha; swan - miyeon; head over heels - abba; fairytale - alexander rybak; judas - lady gaga; mystery lover - taemin; encore - purple kiss

THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICED WAS THE SMELL.

It wasn’t the usual faint scent of your lavender body wash or the stale coffee from your tiny apartment. No, this was something richer, more expensive—like jasmine and vanilla, with a hint of stage makeup and something metallic. Your head throbbed as you blinked your eyes open, the world spinning into focus. 

You were lying on a plush velvet chaise lounge, the kind you’d see in old Hollywood movies. The room around you was bathed in soft golden light, the walls adorned with framed playbills and bouquets of roses. A vanity table sat in the corner, its mirror reflecting the cluster of makeup brushes, lipsticks, and a half-empty bottle of champagne. 

“What the—” You started, voice catching in your throat. That wasn’t your voice. It was smoother, more melodic, with a slight edge of authority. You froze, heart pounding as you stared at the mirror. 

The reflection staring back at you wasn’t yours. 

It was Giselle’s. 

You scrambled to your feet, nearly tripping over the hem of a silk robe that definitely wasn’t yours. You gripped the edge of the vanity, leaning closer to the mirror. The face staring back at you was flawless—high cheekbones, perfectly winged eyeliner, and lips painted a deep crimson. You reached up to touch her face, and the reflection mimicked you perfectly. 

“No, no, no, this isn’t happening,” You muttered, voice trembling. You pinched her arm, but the sharp pain only confirmed this wasn’t a dream. “Okay, okay, think. You’re Y/N. You’re not Giselle. You’re… not Giselle. So why do you look like her?!”

You paced the room, mind racing. Someone had told you about a special VIP experience backstage. Which led you to wander into a locked dressing room, and then… nothing. Just darkness. And now this. 

A knock at the door made you jump. “Giselle? You in there? We’ve got a run-through in ten.” 

You recognized that voice. It was Sunghoon, the theatre’s lead actor and famous heartthrob. Your stomach churned. If anyone could tell something was off, it would be him. 

“Uh, yeah! Just… give me a second!” You called back, cringing at how unconvincing you sounded. 

The door swung open before you could stop it, and there he was—Park Sunghoon, in all his unfairly handsome glory. He was dressed in a fitted black button-up and tailored slacks, his hair perfectly styled. His sharp eyes narrowed as he took you in. 

“You’re not Giselle,” he said flatly, crossing his arms. 

Your heart skipped a beat. “What? Of course I am! Who else would I be?” 

Sunghoon stepped closer, his gaze piercing. “Giselle doesn’t slouch. She doesn’t fidget. And she definitely doesn’t look like she’s about to pass out from panic.” He tilted his head, studying you. “So, who are you, and what did you do with Giselle?” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat. You slumped back onto the chaise lounge, burying your face in your hands. “I don’t know! I don’t know what’s happening! I’m not Giselle—I’m Y/N! I was just… I was just a fan, and now I’m… her!” 

Sunghoon’s expression softened slightly, though he still looked wary. He sat down beside you, keeping a careful distance. “Okay, let’s say I believe you. How did this happen?” 

“I don’t know!” You groaned, running a hand through your hair—err well, Giselle’s hair. “I was backstage, and I found this weird dressing room with a mirror, and then… bam! I woke up like this.” 

Sunghoon frowned. “The locked dressing room? That’s been off-limits for weeks. Jay said it was under renovation.” 

“Well, it wasn’t locked when I found it,” You muttered, glancing at him, eyes pleading. “You have to believe me. I’m not crazy.” 

Sunghoon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re definitely not Giselle. She’d never admit to being crazy, even if she was.” He stood, offering you a hand. “Come on. We need to figure this out before anyone else notices.” 

You hesitated before taking his hand. “Why are you helping me?” 

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Because if you’re telling the truth, this is the most interesting thing that’s happened in this theatre in years. And if you’re lying… well, let’s just say I’ll enjoy watching you try to pull this off.” 

You groaned. “Great. So I’m stuck in Giselle’s body, and my only ally is a guy who thinks this is funny.” 

Sunghoon’s smirk widened. “Welcome to the show, Y/N. Let’s see if you can survive Act One.” 

Sunghoon leaned against the vanity, arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the room as if it might suddenly reveal its secrets. 

You were still trying to process the fact that you were now living in Giselle’s body—and apparently her life. Which you didn’t even know was possible. This is the type of situation you only read in stories or watched in movies. Not real life. You paced nervously, Giselle’s silk robe swishing dramatically with every step. No biggie, I’ve just swapped bodies with  someone! Perfectly normal Tuesday! Maybe if I fall asleep again I’ll wake up and this will all be a dream!

“Okay, let’s start from the beginning,” Sunghoon said, his tone calm but laced with curiosity. “You’re Y/N. You’re not Giselle. You woke up in her body after messing with a creepy mirror. Did I miss anything?” 

“Uh, yeah,” You snapped, stopping mid-pace to glare at him. “The part where this is a literal nightmare, and I have no idea how to fix it!” 

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Right. Well, while you were busy freaking out, I was thinking. Giselle’s been… off lately. Like, really off.” 

You frowned. “What do you mean?” 

He shrugged, picking up a tube of lipstick from the vanity and twirling it between his fingers. “She’s been missing rehearsals, showing up late, forgetting her lines. And she’s been weirdly secretive. Like, she’d disappear for hours and then act like nothing happened. I tried asking her about it, but she just brushed me off.” 

Your eyes widened. “So you’re saying something was already wrong with her before I got… swapped into her?” 

“Exactly,” Sunghoon said, setting the lipstick down. “And now you’re here, which means whatever’s going on, it’s bigger than just you.” 

You scowled again, sinking back onto the chaise lounge. “Great. So not only am I stuck in someone else’s body, but that someone might be in some kind of trouble? Fantastic. Just fantastic.” 

Sunghoon smirked. “Look on the bright side. At least you’re stuck in the body of a gorgeous, talented star. Could’ve been worse.” 

You shot him a withering look. “Oh, yeah, because this is such a privilege. I’m living the dream.” 

Before Sunghoon could retort, your  eyes landed on something tucked under the edge of the vanity—a small, folded piece of paper. You reached for it, your fingers trembling slightly as you unfolded it. The note was written in elegant, cursive handwriting: 

“The mirror knows the truth. Trust no one.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You held the note out to Sunghoon, who took it with a frown. 

“Well, that’s not ominous at all,” he said dryly, handing it back to you. “Any idea what it means?” 

“No, but it sounds like Giselle knew something was going on,” You said, your mind racing. “Maybe she found out about the mirror and whatever… this is.” You gestured wildly at yourself. 

Sunghoon nodded, his expression serious now. “Okay, so here’s the plan. We figure out what’s going on, reverse whatever this is, and get you back to your body. But we have to be careful. If anyone finds out you’re not Giselle, it’s game over.” 

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to pretend to be a world-class actress and singer.” 

Sunghoon grinned, leaning closer. “Relax. I’ll help you. I’ve been acting alongside Giselle for months. I know her better than anyone here.” 

You peeked at him through your fingers. “And why should I trust you? For all I know, you could be the one behind this.” 

He placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Ouch. You wound me. If I wanted to piss off and mess with someone, it definitely wouldn’t be Giselle. Too much drama. I already have enough trying to deal with her on a daily basis.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, despite the absurdity of the situation. “Fine. But if you double-cross me, I’m taking you down with me.” 

“Deal,” Sunghoon said, holding out his hand. You hesitated for a moment before shaking it, his grip firm and reassuring. 

“Alright, partner,” You said, trying to sound confident. “Where do we start?” 

Sunghoon’s grin turned mischievous. “First, we need to get you through rehearsal without blowing your cover. Then, we investigate the mirror and figure out who else might be involved in this. Sound good?” 

You sighed, running a hand through Giselle’s perfectly styled hair. “Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. But what choice do I have?” 

“That’s the spirit!” Sunghoon said, clapping you on the shoulder. “Now, let’s get you to rehearsal before someone starts asking questions. And try to act like Giselle. You know, confident, flawless, and just a little bit terrifying.” 

You sighed, but followed him out of the dressing room, the cryptic note clutched tightly in your hand. As the two of you stepped into the bustling hallway, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. 

“Sunghoon,” you whispered, glancing over your shoulder. “What if someone here already knows?” 

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Then we’re in bigger trouble than we thought. But don’t worry. I’ve got your back.” 

You nodded, though your stomach was in knots. You couldn’t help but feel like you were stepping into a role you were nowhere near ready for. 

The moment you stepped out of the dressing room with Sunghoon, the weight of Giselle’s life crashed down on you like a poorly rigged stage light. The hallway was alive with activity—crew members rushing back and forth, actors rehearsing lines, and the faint hum of the orchestra tuning up in the distance. You clutched the mysterious note in your hand, your heart pounding as you tried to remember how to walk like someone who belonged here. 

Sunghoon leaned in, his voice low. “Remember, you’re Giselle. You’ve got this.” 

You shot him a look. “You’re setting the bar a little high, don’t you think?” 

He smirked. “Just channel your inner diva. And try not to freak out.” 

Before you could respond, a voice called out from behind you. 

“Giselle! There you are!” 

You turned to see Jay striding toward you, his signature easygoing smile plastered across his face. As the owner of the theatre and Sunghoon’s best friend, Jay was the kind of guy who seemed to know everyone and everything. His sharp eyes scanned you, and you could feel the weight of his curiosity. 

“Hey, Jay,” you said, forcing a smile. Your voice sounded too high-pitched, too nervous. You cleared your throat and tried again, lowering your tone to match Giselle’s smooth, confident cadence. “What’s up?” 

Jay tilted his head, his smile never wavering. “Just checking in. You’ve been… different lately. Everything okay?” 

You froze. Different? Of course you were different—you weren’t Giselle! But you couldn’t say that. Instead, you forced a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “Different? Me? Nah, I’m just… prepping for the big night. You know how it is.” 

Jay’s gaze lingered on you for a moment too long before he nodded. “Right. Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me.” 

As he walked away, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Sunghoon nudged you. “Not bad. But next time, try not to sound like you’re auditioning for a horror movie.” 

You glared at him. “Oh, shut up.” 

Your next encounter was with Yangyang, the theatre’s logistics manager. He was leaning against a stack of prop crates, scrolling through his phone, but his eyes flicked up the moment you approached. 

“Giselle,” he said, his tone casual but his gaze sharp. “Heard you’ve been spending a lot of time in the locked dressing room. Find anything interesting?” 

Your stomach dropped. How did he know about that? You forced a smile, channeling every ounce of Giselle’s confidence. “Just looking for some peace and quiet. You know how it is.” 

Yangyang’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Peace and quiet? In this place? Good luck with that.” He pushed off the crates and walked away, leaving you with the distinct feeling that he knew more than he was letting on. 

Sunghoon leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s always been a little too nosy for his own good. Watch your back around him.” 

You nodded, your nerves fraying with every interaction. 

Then came Soyeon and Yunjin, the theatre’s supporting actress and stand-in, respectively. They were huddled together near the stage, whispering furiously. As you approached, Yunjin’s eyes narrowed, her dislike for Giselle practically radiating off her. 

“Well, look who decided to show up,” Yunjin said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Finally gracing us with your presence, Giselle?” 

You swallowed hard, trying to channel Giselle’s trademark coolness. “Nice to see you too, Yunjin. Soyeon.” 

Soyeon smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “We were just talking about how… dedicated you’ve been to the role lately. It’s inspiring, really.” 

The way she said “dedicated” made your skin crawl. You forced a smile, though your palms were sweating. “Thanks. I try.” 

Yunjin rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, try harder. Some of us actually care about this production.” 

Before you could respond, Soyeon linked arms with Yunjin and pulled her away, shooting you a look that was equal parts pity and disdain. 

Sunghoon appeared at your side, his expression grim. “Yunjin’s never been a fan of Giselle, but that was… intense. What did you do to her?” 

“Me? Nothing!” you hissed. “I’m just trying not to get caught!” 

Your next interaction was with Belle, the theatre’s makeup artist and Jay’s confidant. She was waiting for you in the dressing room, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. 

“Giselle,” she said, her voice smooth but with an edge that made your stomach twist. “Jay mentioned you’ve been… distracted lately. Anything you want to talk about?” 

You forced a smile, though your heart was racing. “No, everything’s fine. Just prepping for the show.” 

Belle’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you were certain she could see right through you. “You know, if there’s something going on, you can tell me. I’m here to help.” 

The way she said it sounded more like a threat than an offer. You nodded, trying to look grateful. “Thanks, Belle. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

She studied you for a moment longer before nodding. “Good. Don’t forget—we’re all counting on you.” 

As she left, you sank into the nearest chair, your legs trembling. Sunghoon appeared in the doorway, his expression serious. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “No. Everyone’s so… suspicious. And Belle? She’s terrifying.” 

Sunghoon nodded. “Yeah, she’s not someone to mess with. But you handled it well. Just keep your guard up.” 

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This is impossible. How am I supposed to keep this up?” 

Sunghoon crouched in front of you, his voice softening. “You’re doing better than you think. Just remember—you’re not alone in this. I’ve got your back.” 

You looked up at him, his steady gaze grounding you. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

He grinned, standing and offering you a hand. “Probably get caught in, like, five minutes. Now come on—we’ve got a mystery to solve.” 

After the nerve-wracking encounters with Jay, Yangyang, Soyeon, Yunjin, and Belle, you were starting to feel like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment. Sunghoon had disappeared to “do some digging,” leaving you to navigate the rest of the theatre’s cast and crew on your own. You took a deep breath, straightened Giselle’s silk robe, and stepped back into the fray.

You found Shotaro in the costume room, meticulously organizing a rack of elaborate gowns. He jumped when you entered, nearly dropping a sequined dress. 

“Giselle!” he said, his voice an octave higher than usual. “What are you doing here?” 

You raised an eyebrow, trying to channel Giselle’s trademark coolness. “Just checking on my costumes for the show. Everything ready?” 

Shotaro nodded quickly, but his hands were shaking as he adjusted the hangers. “Y-yes, of course. Everything’s perfect. Just like always.” 

You hesitated, then decided to push your luck. “By the way, have you heard anything about the locked dressing room? The one near the west wing?” 

Shotaro froze, his face paling. “N-no. Why would I know anything about that?” 

His reaction was so over-the-top that you almost laughed. Almost. “Just curious. It’s been off-limits for weeks, right?” 

He nodded vigorously, avoiding your gaze. “Yes, totally off-limits. No one goes in there. Ever. Definitely not me.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “Right. Well, let me know if you hear anything.” 

As you left, you could feel Shotaro’s anxious gaze burning into your back.

Winwin was Giselle’s supposed confidant, but the moment you approached him, you could tell something was off. He was leaning against a wall backstage, scrolling through his phone, but his eyes flicked up the moment you got close. 

“Giselle,” he said, his tone casual but his gaze sharp. “You’ve been… different lately.” 

You forced a smile, though your heart was racing. “Different? How so?” 

He shrugged, slipping his phone into his pocket. “I don’t know. Just… not yourself. You’ve been avoiding me.” 

You blinked, caught off guard. “Avoiding you? No, I’ve just been busy with the show.” 

Winwin’s expression softened, but there was something in his eyes that made you uneasy. “You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever’s going on, I’m here for you.” 

The sincerity in his voice threw you for a loop. Was he genuinely concerned, or was this some kind of act? You nodded, trying to look grateful. “Thanks, Winwin. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

As you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that his loyalty wasn’t as unwavering as Giselle might have thought.

You found Woozi in the rehearsal room, hunched over a notebook and muttering to himself. He didn’t notice you until you were standing right in front of him. 

“Giselle!” he said, his eyes lighting up. “Just the person I wanted to see. I’ve made some changes to your solo. I think you’ll love them.” 

You forced a smile, though your stomach was in knots. “Changes? What kind of changes?” 

He handed you the notebook, his excitement palpable. “Just a few lyrical tweaks to better reflect your character’s inner turmoil. I think it’ll really elevate your performance.” 

You glanced at the page, your heart sinking at the sight of his intensely scribbled revision notes. “Uh, great. Thanks, Woozi.” 

He leaned in, his gaze intense. “You’re the heart of this production, Giselle. Without you, it’s nothing. Don’t forget that.” 

The weight of his words made you feel like you were carrying the entire theatre on your shoulders. You nodded, trying to look appreciative. “I won’t.” 

As you left, you couldn’t help but feel like Woozi’s obsession with Giselle’s performance was more than just professional.

Your final encounter of the day was with Mark and Heeseung, the theatre’s stuntman and stage control, respectively. They were huddled near the lighting booth, deep in conversation, but Mark’s face lit up when he saw you. 

“Giselle!” he said, grinning. “You’re looking… uh, great as always.” 

You smiled, though your nerves were frayed. “Thanks, Mark. What’s up?” 

He shrugged, his enthusiasm undimmed. “Just going over some stunt sequences for the big fight scene. You should come watch sometime—it’s pretty cool.” 

Before you could respond, Heeseung stepped forward, his expression serious. “Giselle, can I talk to you for a second?” 

You nodded, your stomach twisting. “Sure.” 

Heeseung pulled you aside, his voice low. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you lately, but you need to be careful. Not everyone here has your best interests at heart.” 

You blinked, caught off guard by his bluntness. “What do you mean?” 

He glanced around before leaning in closer. “Just… watch your back. Everyone here… They’re not as trustworthy as they seem. I’m worried about you.”

Before you could ask for more details, Mark called out, “Heeseung! We’ve got work to do!” 

Heeseung gave you one last meaningful look before walking away, leaving you with more questions than answers.

As the day came to an end, you retreated to Giselle’s dressing room, your mind spinning. Everyone seemed to have their own secrets, their own agendas. The only person you could trust was Sunghoon—and even that felt like a gamble. 

You sank into the chaise lounge, staring at the strange note in your hand. “The mirror knows the truth. Trust no one.”

“Easier said than done,” you muttered, closing your eyes. 

You were still staring at the cryptic note when the door to the dressing room creaked open. Sunghoon slipped inside, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said, closing the door behind him. “What happened?” 

You held up the note, your hand trembling slightly. “I talked to everyone. And by ‘talked,’ I mean I barely survived a series of increasingly suspicious and terrifying interactions.” 

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, taking the note from you. “Let me guess: Shotaro looked like he was about to faint, Winwin was weirdly intense, Woozi tried to rewrite the entire show, and Heeseung gave you some cryptic warning?” 

You blinked. “How did you know?” 

He smirked, leaning against the vanity. “Because I’ve been working with these people for years. They’re all… unique.” 

“Unique?” you repeated, incredulous. “Sunghoon, everyone here is either hiding something, hates Giselle, or is way too obsessed with her. I don’t know how she does this every day.” 

He shrugged. “She’s Giselle. She thrives on drama. Speaking of which…” He gestured to the note. “The mirror, huh? ” 

“Yeah, no kidding,” you muttered. “It’s the only lead we’ve got. We need to figure out what’s going on before someone realizes I’m not Giselle.” 

Sunghoon nodded, his gaze shifting to the locked dressing room door. “Alright. Let’s start with the mirror.” 

The two of you made your way to the locked dressing room, the hallway eerily quiet now that rehearsals were over. Sunghoon pulled a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door with a soft click. 

“Where did you get those?” you whispered. 

He grinned. “Let’s just say I have my ways.” 

The room was exactly as you remembered it—dimly lit, with the antique mirror standing ominously in the corner. You stepped inside, your heart pounding as you approached the mirror. 

“It’s… kind of creepy,” you said, staring at your reflection—or rather, Giselle’s reflection. 

Sunghoon stood beside you, his arms crossed. “Yeah, it’s definitely giving off ‘haunted antique’ vibes. But why would Giselle be so interested in it?” 

You shook your head, your eyes scanning the room for clues. “I don’t know, but there’s got to be something here.” 

As you searched, your foot caught on the edge of a loose floorboard. You crouched down, pulling it up to reveal a hidden compartment. Inside was a torn page from what looked like a diary. 

“Sunghoon,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Look at this.” 

He knelt beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he read the page aloud. 

“I made a deal with them. I thought it was worth it—the fame, the glory, the lead role. But now I’m not so sure. The mirror… it’s watching me. I can feel it. If something happens to me, it’s because of them. Trust no one.” 

You looked up at Sunghoon, your stomach churning. “A deal? What kind of deal?” 

He frowned, his brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t know, but it sounds like Giselle got herself into something dangerous. And if the mirror is involved…” 

“Then we’re in way over our heads,” you finished, your voice trembling. 

Sunghoon placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you. “Hey, we’ll figure this out. Together.” 

You nodded, though your mind was racing. “But where do we even start? Everyone here seems to have their own agenda. Who can we trust?” 

He smirked, his tone lightening. “Well, you can trust me. Mostly.” 

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “Mostly? That’s reassuring.” 

“Hey, I’m the one helping you navigate this mess,” he said, standing and offering you a hand. “That counts for something, right?” 

You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “I guess it does. But seriously, I’ll kill you if you throw me under the bus.”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Already noted. Now, let’s get out of here before someone catches us.” 

Back in Giselle’s dressing room, you sank into the chaise lounge, your mind spinning. Sunghoon sat beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos. 

“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “What’s the plan?” 

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know. But we need to figure out who Giselle made this deal with and what it has to do with the mirror. And we need to do it fast.” 

Sunghoon nodded, his expression serious. “Agreed. But for now, you need to focus on not blowing your cover. The show’s opening night is in two days, and everyone’s counting on Giselle to deliver.” 

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Great. No pressure or anything.” 

He chuckled, nudging you with his shoulder. “You’ve been doing pretty great already. You got this. And I’ll help if I can, remember?” 

You looked up at him, his steady gaze calming your nerves. “Thanks, Sunghoon. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

He grinned, his tone teasing. “Now get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.” 

As he left, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. Despite the danger and the mystery, you weren’t alone. 

You were backstage, nervously rehearsing Giselle’s lines under your breath, when Yunjin cornered you near the prop storage. Her arms were crossed, her expression sharp enough to cut glass.  

“You’re slipping, Giselle,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “Forgot your blocking during the ensemble number yesterday. Missed your cue today. What’s next? Forgetting the lyrics to your precious solo?”  

You forced a laugh, though your palms were sweating. “Relax, Yunjin. It’s called acting. Maybe you should try it sometime.”  

Her eyes narrowed. “Funny. The Giselle I know wouldn’t need to ‘act’ like she knows what she’s doing.” She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “If you’re not up for the role, just say so. Soyeon’s been ready to take over since day one.”  

Before you could retort, Sunghoon materialized at your side, his tone light but edged with warning. “Yunjin, don’t you have an understudy rehearsal to prep for? Or are you too busy auditioning for the role of ‘villain’?”  

Yunjin scoffed, shooting you one last glare before storming off.  

“You okay?” Sunghoon asked, his hand brushing yours briefly.  

You exhaled shakily. “Remind me why Yunjin hates Giselle again?”  

He smirked. “Giselle stole her solo in last year’s production. And her ex-boyfriend. And, according to rumors, her favorite coffee order.”  

You groaned. “Of course she did.”  

Later, while Sunghoon distracted the crew, you slipped into Jay’s office. The room was eerily tidy, save for a stack of financial ledgers on his desk. You flipped through them, heart pounding, until a voice froze you mid-page.  

“Looking for something?”  

Belle stood in the doorway, her posture relaxed but her eyes cold. You dropped the ledger like it was on fire.  

“Just… admiring Jay’s organizational skills!” you said, forcing a smile. “Who knew spreadsheets could be so… thrilling?”  

Belle stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her. “Curiosity is dangerous in a place like this, Giselle. Especially when it’s not your business.”  

You swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

She leaned against the desk, her red nails tapping the ledger. “Let me be clear: whatever game you’re playing, stop. This theatre survives because people stay in their lanes. You’d do well to remember yours.”  

The threat hung in the air like smoke. Before you could respond, she turned on her heel and left, her parting words slicing through the silence: “Stay out of the dark, Giselle. It’s easier to get lost there than you think.” 

That night, you met Sunghoon in the empty auditorium to compare notes.  

“Belle’s definitely hiding something,” you whispered, pacing the aisle. “And Jay’s ledgers had weird entries—large payments to ‘Anonymous Benefactors.’ What does that even mean?”  

Sunghoon frowned. “It means we’re dealing with someone who’s got money—and secrets. Did you—”  

A sudden clatter of scaffolding made you both freeze. Mark emerged from the shadows, his face pale.  

“Giselle? Sunghoon?” he said, glancing between you. “What are you guys doing here so late?”  

You plastered on a smile. “Just… rehearsing! You know how Sunghoon is about perfection.”  

Mark hesitated, his gaze lingering on the file in Sunghoon’s hand. “Rehearsing… with financial records?”  

Sunghoon stepped forward smoothly. “It’s method acting, Mark. Giselle’s character is a corrupt CEO. Very gritty. Very real.”  

Mark blinked. “Oh. Cool, I guess? Just… be careful, okay? Heeseung said there’ve been weird noises backstage at night.”  

As he walked away, you slumped into a seat. “We are terrible at this.”  

Sunghoon grinned. “Nah. We’re just… creatively challenged.”  

By the time you returned to Giselle’s dressing room, exhaustion and panic had merged into a dizzying haze. Sunghoon followed you inside, his usual smirk replaced by genuine concern.  

“We’re running out of time,” you said, sinking onto the couch. “If we don’t figure this out before opening night…”  

“We will,” Sunghoon interrupted, crouching in front of you. “But you need to breathe. Freaking out won’t help Giselle—or you.”  

You met his gaze, his steadiness anchoring you. “What if we can’t fix this? What if I’m stuck like… this?”  

He hesitated, then reached for your hand. “Then I’ll teach you how to hit Giselle’s high notes. And how to glare at Yangyang without laughing. And—”  

You snorted, swatting his arm. “You’re impossible.”  

“But you’re smiling,” he said softly.  

The moment hung between you, charged and fragile—until a sharp knock shattered it.  

“Giselle?” Jay’s voice called through the door. “We need to talk. Now.”  

Sunghoon squeezed your hand once before slipping out the window, leaving you alone to face the storm.  

The moment Jay stepped into Giselle’s dressing room, the air thickened with tension. He closed the door softly behind him, his usual friendly demeanor replaced by a chilling calm.  

“Let’s skip the act, Giselle,” he said, leaning against the vanity. “You’ve been digging where you shouldn’t. Ledgers. The mirror. Our deal.”  

You froze, your pulse roaring in your ears. Our deal. The words from Giselle’s diary page flashed in your mind. I made a deal with them. You forced yourself to meet Jay’s gaze, channeling every ounce of Giselle’s steel.  

“You think I’d forget our arrangement?” you said, your voice steady despite the storm inside. “I’m just making sure you’re holding up your end.”  

Jay’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, I’ve held up my end. You’re the star, aren’t you? The spotlight, the adoration—all because of me. But now you’re sniffing around like a lost puppy. Why?”  

You crossed your arms, mimicking Giselle’s signature icy poise. “Maybe I don’t like being kept in the dark. The mirror, the payments to ‘Anonymous Benefactors’… What’s the price you mentioned in our deal, Jay?”  

His expression darkened. For a heartbeat, you saw it—the flicker of fear beneath his polished façade. “The price,” he said slowly, “is silence. You wanted the role, I gave it to you. But if you keep pushing, that mirror won’t be the only thing that disappears.”  

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “Finish the show. Play your part. Or I’ll make sure you regret ever stepping into this theatre.”  

The door slammed behind him, leaving you trembling.  

You found Sunghoon in the prop loft, sorting through dusty set designs. The second you relayed Jay’s threats, his playful smirk vanished.  

“A deal for the lead role,” he muttered, pacing. “That explains why Giselle’s been so paranoid. But what’s the mirror got to do with it?”  

You pulled out the torn diary page and the ledger notes. “Jay’s been funneling money to someone—or something. And Giselle wrote that the mirror was ‘watching’ her. What if the deal wasn’t just with Jay? What if it’s… older?”  

Sunghoon’s eyes widened. “The theatre’s original owner disappeared decades ago. Rumor was he made a pact with some cursed object to keep the place running.” He grabbed your hand, urgency in his grip. “The mirror. It’s not just a prop—it’s the source. Jay’s using it to control things… and Giselle was part of it.”  

You stared at the diary entry. “If something happens to me, it’s because of them.” “She was going to expose him,” you realized. “That’s why she was acting strange. Jay found out, and he—or whatever’s tied to that mirror—swapped our bodies to silence her.”  

Sunghoon cursed under his breath. “And now you’re stuck in the crosshairs. If we don’t break this curse before opening night, you might be trapped like this forever… or worse.”  

Back in the dressing room, you and Sunghoon spread the clues across the floor: the diary page, the ledger, a faded newspaper article about the theatre’s cursed history.  

“So Jay’s the middleman,” Sunghoon said, tapping the article. “But the real power’s in the mirror. It demands a ‘price’—probably souls or some messed-up supernatural rent.”  

You grimaced. “Giselle paid with hers, didn’t she? That’s why she’s gone. And now the mirror wants… me?”  

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened. “Not if I can help it. We need to find the original pact. If we destroy it, maybe we break the curse.”  

You hesitated. “What if it’s not enough? What if we’re already too late?”  

He turned to you, his gaze fierce. “Then we’ll burn the whole theatre down. But I’m not losing you to this.”  

The intensity in his voice made your breath catch. Before you could respond, a crash echoed from the hallway—the sound of shattered glass.  

Sunghoon pulled you to your feet. “Time’s up. Let’s move.”  

You and Sunghoon stormed into Jay’s office, the ledger and Giselle’s diary clutched in your hands. Jay looked up from his desk, his expression unreadable.  

“We know about the mirror,” Sunghoon said, his voice colder than you’d ever heard it. “And the deal. How could you do this, Jay? To Giselle? To us?”  

Jay leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “You think I wanted this? The mirror’s curse has been hanging over this theatre for decades. I didn’t create it—I inherited it. Giselle knew the risks when she made her deal.”  

You slammed the ledger onto his desk. “Risks? You sold her soul for a lead role?”  

Jay’s calm cracked. “I didn’t swap her!” he snapped, standing abruptly. “I tried to protect her. But she got greedy. She wanted out of the deal, and threatened to expose everything. And then—”  

The door swung open. Belle stood in the doorway, her smile sharp as a knife. “And then I stepped in.”  

Sunghoon stiffened. “Belle?”  

She strode into the room, her heels clicking like a countdown. “Jay’s too sentimental. He couldn’t stomach what needed to be done. But me?” She laughed, cold and hollow. “I’ve been cleaning up his messes for years.”  

You stepped forward, fists trembling. “What did you do to Giselle?”  

Belle’s gaze locked onto yours, venomous and triumphant. “That night she tried to destroy the mirror? I caught her. And I gave her a taste of her own medicine. Why let her soul vanish when I could trap it somewhere… quieter?” She pulled a small, ornate compact from her pocket—a shard of the mirror glinting inside. “Like that nobody body of yours.”  

The air left your lungs. “You—you swapped us. You’re the one who put me here.”  

Belle smirked. “Guilty. Though I must say, watching you fumble around as Giselle has been delightful. Almost makes me want to keep you here forever.”  

Sunghoon moved in front of you, blocking Belle’s path. “Where’s Giselle’s soul now?”  

“Somewhere she can’t cause trouble,” Belle said lightly. “A body with no connections, no power. A nobody.” She turned to Jay, her tone hardening. “You’re welcome, by the way. I saved your precious theatre.”  

Jay looked away, guilt etched into every line of his face.  

Sunghoon lunged for the compact, but Belle jerked it out of reach. “Ah-ah,” she tutted. “Break this, and Giselle’s soul shatters with it. Along with your little friend here.”  

You froze, panic clawing up your throat. Sunghoon shot Jay a searing look. “You knew. This whole time, you knew.”  

Jay’s voice broke. “I tried to stop her, Sunghoon. But the mirror… it demands a price. If it wasn’t Giselle, it would’ve been someone else. Maybe you.”  

Sunghoon recoiled like he’d been slapped. “We were supposed to be family.”  

“We are,” Jay pleaded. “That’s why I kept you out of it. Belle’s right—I’m weak. But I never wanted this.”  

Belle rolled her eyes. “Save the drama for the stage. The show goes on tonight, and Giselle—or whatever’s left of her—will play her part. As for you two?” She nodded to the security guards looming in the hallway. “You’ll stay out of the way. Or I’ll make sure Y/N’s body ends up in the river.”  

Locked in a storage closet, you sank to the floor, trembling. Belle said she would let the two of you out soon. She just couldn’t have you telling others and needed you to learn your lesson, whatever that meant. Sunghoon paced like a caged animal, his usual composure shattered.  

“All this time,” he muttered, “Jay let her do this. He chose the theatre over us. Over everything.”  

You hugged your knees to your chest. “We can’t let her win. Giselle’s still out there—trapped in my body. We have to find her.”  

Sunghoon crouched in front of you, his eyes blazing. “We will. But we need a new plan. And we need to move fast.”  

You glanced at the door. “How? Belle’s got the mirror shard. And Jay’s under her thumb.”  

A slow, defiant grin spread across Sunghoon’s face. “Then we play their game. You go onstage tonight as Giselle. We’ll find the compact. And when the curtain falls…”  

“We destroy the mirror for good,” you finished.  

He nodded. “Together.”  

You hesitated, then reached for his hand. “Sunghoon… Thank you. For not giving up on me.”  

His fingers tightened around yours. “Always.” 

The theatre buzzed with the energy of a packed house, the orchestra tuning up as the audience settled into their seats. Backstage, chaos reigned—actors in glittering costumes darted past, crew members shouted over headsets, and the scent of hairspray hung thick in the air. You stood in Giselle’s sequined gown, clutching Sunghoon’s arm like a lifeline.  

“You ready?” he asked, adjusting his cufflinks with forced calm.  

“To sing a solo in French while secretly planning a magical heist? Totally,” you deadpanned. “What’s the worst that could happen?”  

Sunghoon grinned, though tension lined his eyes. “Don’t answer that. Just stick to the plan: distract Belle, find the compact, smash the mirror. ”  

“And try not to die,” you added.  

“Especially that.”  

You found Belle in the locked dressing room, her back turned as she polished the cursed mirror with a reverence that made your skin crawl. The compact containing Giselle’s soul glinted in her hand.  

“Leaving so soon?” she said without turning around. “The show hasn’t even started.”  

You stepped inside, channeling Giselle’s icy confidence. “I thought we could chat. Girl to girl. Demon to… whatever you are.”  

Belle smirked, snapping the compact shut. “Cute. But you’re terrible at bluffing.”  

“Good thing I’m not the one bluffing,” you said, nodding to the doorway.  

Sunghoon lunged, tackling Belle to the ground. The compact skidded across the floor as the two grappled, Belle’s nails clawing at his arms.  

“Traitor!” she hissed. “You’d choose this traitor over your own family?”  

“Girl, you are not my family. And family doesn’t sell souls,” Sunghoon shot back, dodging her swipe.  

You scrambled for the compact, but Belle kicked a makeup case into your path. Lipsticks and powder exploded into the air, coating everything in a shimmering haze.  

“Sunghoon.” you yelled, choking on glitter.  

“A little busy here!” he grunted, pinning Belle’s wrists.  

You dove for the compact, your fingers brushing its edge just as Belle wrenched free. She slammed into the mirror, her reflection warping grotesquely in the glass.  

“You want Giselle back?” Belle snarled, clutching the compact. “Then take her!”  

She hurled it at the mirror. The glass rippled like water, and for a heartbeat, you saw your body—Giselle’s soul trapped inside—staring back, terrified.  

“NO!” Sunghoon tackled Belle again, but the compact shattered against the mirror’s surface. A deafening crack split the air, and the room plunged into swirling shadows.  

You stumbled forward, grasping for Sunghoon’s hand. “The mirror—it’s breaking!”  

“Then let’s help it along!” he shouted, snatching a fire extinguisher off the wall.  

You grabbed a prop sword from the corner, swinging it at the mirror with a battle cry that was more terrified than terrifying. Flames emerged, stretching across the drywood flood, seemingly out of nowhere. The blade struck the glass just as Sunghoon slammed the extinguisher into it.  

The mirror exploded.  

You woke with a jolt, your head throbbing as if you’d been spun through a tornado. The world came into focus slowly—sticky theater seats, the murmur of an impatient crowd, and the faint scent of popcorn. Your hands flew to your face, your real face, and you nearly sobbed with relief.  

“Oh, thank god.” you muttered, staring at your familiar hoodie sleeves.  

Onstage, the orchestra swelled, and the curtain rose to reveal Giselle—the real Giselle—commanding the spotlight in her sequined gown. She moved with effortless grace, her voice sharp and clear, no trace of the chaos that had nearly destroyed her. For a moment, your eyes met across the auditorium. She gave the faintest nod, her gaze lingering with unspoken gratitude, before launching into her solo.  

After the final bow, you lurked in the shadows backstage, unsure where to go now that you were no longer the star. Sunghoon found you first, still in his stage makeup and looking like he’d fought a war.  

“There you are,” he said, breathless. “I’d recognize that bad posture anywhere. You okay?”  

“Fuck you.” You scowled, but couldn’t help but grin, holding up your hands. “Ten fingers, ten toes, and zero cursed mirrors. I’d call that a win.”  

Before he could reply, Giselle swept into the wings, her presence magnetic even without the spotlight. The cast and crew froze, sensing the storm in her eyes.  

“Belle,” Giselle said, her voice cutting through the silence. “You owe us all an explanation. Starting with why you trapped me in a stranger’s body and tried to bury the truth.”  

Belle stepped forward, her composure cracking. “You were going to ruin everything! This theatre survives because of that mirror—”  

“It survives in spite of it,” Giselle snapped. She turned to the stunned crowd, her tone softening. “Jay and Belle made a deal with something darker than any of us realized. They used fear to control us. But tonight?” She gestured to the shattered remains of the mirror, now being wheeled offstage by stagehands. “Tonight, we break the cycle.”  

Jay emerged from the shadows, his face ashen. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice breaking. “To all of you. But especially to you, Sunghoon.”  

Sunghoon crossed his arms, his usual smirk absent. “Save it. You don’t get to play the victim here.”  

Giselle stepped between them, her glare silencing Jay. “You’re done. Both of you.”  

Later, as the crew dispersed and the theatre emptied, you lingered by the stage door with Sunghoon. Giselle approached, her regal demeanor softened by exhaustion.  

“Thank you,” she said, clasping your hand. “You risked everything to save a life you didn’t owe me.”  

You shrugged, awkward but earnest. “Just… try not to steal anyone’s coffee order ever again.”  

Giselle laughed, a rare, genuine sound. “No promises.” She turned to Sunghoon, her gaze knowing. “Take care of her. She’s braver than she looks.”  

Sunghoon saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”  

As Giselle left, you elbowed him. “Take care of me? You literally threw a fire extinguisher at a mirror tonight instead of using it to put out the fire..”  

“And you swung a prop sword like it was a pool noodle,” he shot back. “We’re a mess. But hey—” He nudged you, nodding to the stage. “You never did get to perform. Want to try that solo?”  

You snorted. “In this lifetime? Absolutely not.”  

He grinned, pulling you toward the exit. “Smart.”  

The theatre’s grand lobby buzzed with nervous energy as the cast and crew gathered for Jay’s announcement. He stood at the top of the staircase, his usual charm replaced by a somber resolve.  

“Effective immediately,” Jay said, voice steady but strained, “I’m stepping down as owner. Sunghoon will take over.”  

A ripple of surprise spread through the crowd. Sunghoon, leaning casually against a pillar, straightened up like he’d been electrocuted. “Wait—what?”  

Jay tossed him a set of keys, a faint smirk breaking through his guilt. “Don’t look so thrilled. You’ve been complaining about my leadership for years. Now fix it.”  

Sunghoon caught the keys, staring at them like they might bite. “You’re insane. I don’t know the first thing about running a theatre.”  

“You’ll figure it out,” Jay said, clapping him on the shoulder. “And… try not to burn it down.”  

As the crowd dispersed, Sunghoon turned to you, panic flickering in his eyes. “Help. Please.”  

You grinned. “Only if you promise free popcorn for life.”  

Later, as the two of you surveyed the empty auditorium, Sunghoon nudged you with his elbow. “So. Audition slots are open. You’ve already survived being Giselle—might as well try being yourself onstage.”  

You snorted. “Tempting, but I think I’ll stick to not nearly dying in cursed mirrors, thanks.”  

He tilted his head, studying you with a sudden intensity. “You know… I never actually saw what you looked like before. Giselle’s body was all… Giselle. But you?” His gaze swept over you, lingering on your face. “You’re… distracting.”  

You raised an eyebrow. “Distracting?”  

“Yeah. Like, annoyingly pretty. How am I supposed to focus on rebuilding this place if you’re just… standing there?”  

Your cheeks burned, but you rolled your eyes. “Wow, Park. That might be the worst compliment I’ve ever heard.”  

He stepped closer, his smirk softening. “I’ll work on it. But seriously—stay. Even if you don’t audition. The theatre needs people who aren’t obsessed with cursed antiques. And I…” He trailed off, uncharacteristically hesitant. “I need someone to keep me from setting fire to the prop room.”  

You laughed, the sound echoing in the empty space. “You’re hopeless.”  

“Hopelessly charming,” he corrected, grinning.  

“Debatable.”  

Before he could retort, you grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him. It was quick, impulsive, and left him blinking in stunned silence.  

“There,” you said, stepping back. “Now you can’t talk.”  

Sunghoon touched his lips, his ears turning pink. “…Okay, that worked better than I expected.”  

Weeks later, the theatre hummed with new energy. Rehearsals for the next production were underway, and Sunghoon’s leadership—though chaotic—had brought a fresh, unjaded spirit to the crew. You’d taken a part-time job managing schedules (and keeping Sunghoon from accidentally hiring a ‘magician’ for lighting design), but tonight, as you passed the old west wing, a flicker of light caught your eye.  

The locked dressing room door stood slightly ajar.  

Heart pounding, you pushed it open. The room was empty, save for one thing: the mirror, whole and unbroken, its surface gleaming like it had never been shattered.  

“Sunghoon!” you yelled, backing away.  

He skidded into the room, fire extinguisher in hand. “What? Where’s the fire—oh.”  

You pointed at the mirror. “We broke that thing! I watched it explode!”  

Sunghoon set down the extinguisher, staring at the glass. “Guess some curses don’t stay dead.”  

“That’s not comforting.”  

He slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Don’t worry. We’ve got time. And this time?” He kissed your temple, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m charging the audience extra for our trauma.”  

You elbowed him, but couldn’t suppress a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”  

“And you’re stuck with me,” he said, steering you out of the room. “Now come on. We’ve got a theatre to run… and maybe a sequel to avoid.”  

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams @mango-bear

[ultimatelyre]

CAPRI popular fics masterlist part I

$ - explicit (minors DNI) ⚡- quick read contains popular fics which you might've already read, so if you want pls check other parts!

Winged cupid painted blind ⚡- Laurent masquerades as his sister to get Damen to call off their wedding. Falls in love with him instead *facepalm, the humour is perfection in this gotta be my fav one shot ever

Last with me through the night - childhood friends/ slow burn/ single parent(Nicaise's uncle) Laurent please read this one if you have time for just one. the fluff oh god

A point to happiness - Damen texts the wrong number, best mistake of his life (Even I fell in love when Laurent tells him that bedtime story bitch. AND nicaise being a reluctant and lovely matchmaker!)

Receipts and reciprocity $ - Damen has a thing for buying Laurent stuff. Non-cringey Age difference TRUST. literally everything by this author is so good?? again, trust.

An Arranged Marriage ⚡ - political marriage, POV damen, plotting laurent is da best

Bright as lightning $ - political marriage, POV laurent amazing story

All the education that I missed $ - just read it, i dont even know how to give a summary w/out soundin SUS AF lmaoo

Concordia - hockeyxfigure skating, complicated laurent

In case of emergency ⚡- Laurent flirting outrageously with firefighter damen is a need i didnt know i had

⭐ part I (popular ones) 💼part II (workplace AU)🫂part III (Auguste lives & Nicaise lives)🦾part IV (rare pairs)

This "ficrec friday edition" is dedicated to all the powerhouses behind well-loved fanfics in the CAPRI fandom below are some of my fav authors!

Fahye

blacktofade

kittendiamore

Josselin

id rather have you

itallends

thickenmyblood

ahdriking (blushes)

niniblack

writerofperfectdisasters

taj_mutthall

Spinawren

penguinMerchant

Holly_go_lightly

onekingdomonce

thickenmyblood

barbitone

folfar

Lapin ....and more for next time!!

quick note: ofc it's not possible for me to cover ALL of them! please feel free to drop ficrecs and your fav fic writers in the comments!

[twstfanblog]

A little thing of the Magical Girl AU

As any self respecting Magical Girl, each of the Twist boys get a cute marketable plushie of a familiar!!!

Each boy has a weapon and Dire Beast. Both boy and beast are bonded to the weapon instead of each other. But if the beast likes his weilder they will make it very difficult to use the weapon if you stole it.

The Magical Dire Beasts for Each boy

Riddle-Baby pink hedgehog. Battle form is a giant bright red hedgehog the size of a draft horse that shoots flaming spikes.

Trey- A big ass bumblebee, battle form is a giant ground wasp. Buries under ground to sneak attack you. Helps Trey bake in its bumblebee form.

Cater- Little caterpillar that masquerades as an earcuff earring, turns into a massive butterfly with illusion causing wings.

Deuce- Lil yellow puff ball chick, battle form is a giant blue tinted rooster that shoots ice.

Ace- Lil fox the size of his palm with one tail. Battle form is the size of an actual fox has more tails but hasn't gained nine yet. does massive damage over large areas with wind magic with it's tails.

Leona- A black lion, battle form is a full sized lion who's roar can turn magic and physical defenses into sand.

Ruggie- Hyena cub that fits in his hand. Battle mode is a full sized hyena that can make copies of itself. Used mainly for surveillance.

Jack- A wolf about the size of a great dane puppy. Battle mode is an extraly large wolf. His howl is able to pinpoint other dire beasts.

Azul- Octopus. It's actually a blue ring octopus, both in size and form. While the beast has a battle form, Azul very rarely uses it in fights. His beast is very protective of Azul and the Tweels in its battle form.

Jade- Lil eel that hides in his hair. Battle form is around 6ft long. Its bite transfers power to allies and works in tandem with Floyd's beast.

Floyd- Lil eel that hides in his hair. Battle form is around 6ft long. Its bite can suck out power from enemies and works in tandem with Jade's beast.

Kalim- A hamster! Loves eating and honestly acts as an infinity purse. Battle form is around the size of an elephant and can take damage like a brick wall getting a water balloon thrown at it. Very rare to see in battle form.

Jamil- A snake, around 3ft long. Camouflages as one of his braids. Battle form is a king cobra that turns into a tattoo to immobilize enemies.

Vil- A tarantula. A dark purple with highlights of neon purple. Battle form is the size of a massive tank. Can spit venom in battle form. Vil brushes his beasts fur to keep them neat.

Rook- A hawk the size of a robin. Battle form is large enough to carry Rook and a few others. No secondary power past excellent flying abilities.

Epel- An orchid mantis that looks like an apple blossom. Battle form is massive, but smaller than Vil's tarantula. Hands become bladed and can do slash attacks.

Idia- Screech Owl. Looking at it in the dark gives it the silhouette of a cat. Battle form has it gaining mass out of fire to have its second form made entirely of flames. Another very protective beast, but Idia has made sure it knows to protect Ortho over him.

Ortho- Does not have a beast nor weapon.

Malleus- A lil dragon. Malleus named it Gaogao. Battle form is basically Maleficent's dragon form. It doesn't so much as breathe fire as its roar makes thorny vines attack.

Lilia- A bat♡. Just an average sized bat who is actually the mother of the massive swarm of bats that normally follows Lilia around. Battle form is more so the mama bat psychically controls the whole swarm to attack.

Silver- Baby fawn that fits in his hand. Only sleeps in Silver's hand. Battle form is a giant ass 14-point stag. The horns are able to pierce through any defense.

Sebek- A shiba inu. Literally just a fucking shiba inu, just as loud and loyal as Sebek is. Battle form has its fluffy fur spike out into lightning. While it zips around just as fast as Sebek can, it does not like water and if wet will start screaming.

Yes, all of these beasts have names. NO I HAVEN'T THOUGHT OF A SINGLE ONE XD this AU is already so extensive and it's not even funny anymore.

[papiliomame]

Ectoberweek 2023 Day 29: Masquerade

SPOILER FOR A GLITCH IN TIME!

I recently rewatched the endings of the anime "Durarara!!" and I was thinking that so many versions of Danny popped up throughout the years, it is time for a Danno-tower.

I limited myself to 15 versions and a few other AUs sprinkled here and there because 1) this artwork is already long enough and 2) there are so many AUs and different designs I would need much more time to draw them all.

Here is a list of what AUs are shown here in no particular order and if possible where I could manage to pinpoint the origin of the AU:

Human Danny(Canon)

Ghost Danny(Canon)

End of AGIT Dan Phantom ( A Glitch in Time graphic novel)

Ghost King Danny

DCxDP ( I just put Batman in there as a representative for the whole DC cast)

Crypid/Monster Danny

Spider Danno (dannypocalypse)

Full Hazmat Danny (Mask by @in-the-ghost-mode)

Disabled AU ( I think this post by @madametamma made this AU more known in the phandom on tumblr but I personally encountered this AU in Everything was White by @lexosaurus which the release of the first chapter predates the post)

Little Baby Man (@tourettesdog)

Clown Danny (@letswonderspirit)

Coffee Ghost Danny (@typo-art)

Winged Danny(@the-stove-is-on-fire)

Merman Danny (not sure about this one, but my guess it's from the "Mermay" art event which occur on several social media sites?)

Lab rat Danny

Team Halloween (@the-stove-is-on-fire and @healthysharkshealthyocean fic Ghost in the NYC and the comics)

Shared Cujostody AU(@duchi-nesten)

Wes and Kyle Weston(not sure where the origin is but @lexosaurus made a whole dossier about him here, there are also infos how Kyle Weston came to be)

Dani Masters( a variation of this is the Cheese Melt AU by @lilianade-comics)

I hope those are the correct, for everything else I couldn't really find where they originated from.

This idea was original for the "ten years" prompt but after some work I conclude this fits more the "masquerade" prompt, because AUs are kind of a masquerade to the canon.

[rwrbficrecs]

Hope you all enjoy our recs for November ❤️ (even though they're a little late!!) Incenatus by @missgeevious (book/movie-verse)

@suseagull04: I can't recommend this fic enough! If you love Twilight and The Phantom of the Opera, this fic is for you! A mysterious masquerade, a soulmate connection, and chemistry that's off the charts all culminate to make this one of my new all-time favorite fics!

Meaning Something by bleedingballroomfloor (book-verse)

@dot524: Really enjoyed this Liam POV that goes deeper into what actually happened with Alex and Liam, his relationship with Spencer, and how Liam reacts to Alex & Henry during the book. The feelings & coming out are really well done.

Needy & Greedy by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)

@heybuddy-drabbles: It's been HELL of a month in good and bad ways so I didn't have time to read much. I'm choosing to recommend a series of unconnected one shots, all steamy and delicious and fun and short for casual reading when you don't have much time to commit to a 70k fic. If you like smut tis for you!

Taste the Way You Bleed by @cha-melodious (book-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: a super fun What We Do In the Shadows AU, written for the RWRB halloween fest. Alex and Henry are oblivious vampires, pining for centuries, and the rest of the super-six turn up in hilarious mockumentary-style interviews. The summary alone had me HOOKED.

Camp Llwynywermod by bleedingballroomfloor (book-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: one of my go-to for comfort, all time fave fics. Alex and Henry as co summer camp counsellors, pining and bickering for years. The tension is top notch!

@dot524: It’s funny and I really enjoyed the camp setting and their journey from enemies to friends to lovers. This is a fun and cute fic.

Downburst by @cricketnationrise (book-verse)

@rmd-writes: an AU of The West Wing ep 'In the Shadow of Two Gunmen' - mind the tags, this is an angsty but beautifully written fic with very clever use of multiple POVs to tell several stories of love (including platonic love). This is so good I was mad I didn't write several lines in it myself.

@thesleepyskipper: Truly an incredible and unique work that was done with care. The way the various memories/flashbacks are done and how they are used as part of the storytelling absolutely blew me away. Loved that we got multiple POVs here too!

Underground by @zwiazdziarka (book-verse)

@suseagull04: An adorable kid, fantasy (including mentions of fantasy classics!) and a rescue mission make this such a fun read! The world building in this fic is phenomenal too.

A Long Way From the Playground by @three-drink-amy (book-verse)

@dot524: This is a getting-back-together AU where Alex & Henry were childhood friends who grew apart in college and then unexpectedly are neighbors. I enjoyed the slow burn here and the payoff — it’s just a comforting feel-good fic!

Five-Drink Henry by @whimsymanaged (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: I was honestly already hooked from the title and the fic did not disappoint – so much so that I’ve reread it so many times the past month. Loved everything about this fic!!

The Domestication of Household Spiders by @cultofsappho (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: This was everything I didn’t know I needed from a spiderman AU! Loved it so much. There’s also 2 new recent fics published in this series – plenty of spiderman Alex to read!!

you make it look so easy, i know it's not by @anincompletelist (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: A really fun fic about Henry’s first American Thanksgiving not quite going to plan. I was already laughing from the summary alone

The great turkey calamity? by @smblmn (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: This fic tells us what is actually means to talk turkey and this once Cornbread is a star he deserves to be. It's crack, it's exsistential crisis, it's hilarious. Oh, and Alex and Henry fall in love here too.

Lay You Down by ronans (book-verse)

@inexplicablymine: when I tell you the fluff is fluffing, Henry runs a sleep YouTube and Alex is in his comment section and in his DM’s and in his head. Do yourself a favor if you need a sweet treat today and read this work

@thesleepyskipper: OMG this could not be any cuter. I loved the way we got to see their relationship grow as they got to know each other online. Truly an adorable, well-written story that will plaster a smile on your face throughout.

Risk is Just a Board Game by @three-drink-amy (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Angst, domestic fluff, college AU, the holidays- this fic has it all! A look at why friends with benefits isn't always the best idea that culminates in an ending reminiscent of a Hallmark movie.

On My Mind (Let's Go) by @sparklepocalypse (movie-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: contrary to popular fanon, Henry can dance and here he uses that to get what he wants on New Year's Eve party. No notes, just go and read it.

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[kittenfangirl20]

((Prince and the Duck Au))

Adam had dreamed of being a performer since he was a little kid. His mom and dad always told him to shoot for the stars and follow his dreams.

But of course, being on the lower side of income and having your parents pass away at a young age didn't put Adam in the fortune 500.

By day he worked at a diner as a waiter, at night he moonlighted as orderly at the hospital. He barely made enough to get by. But his best friend since childhood, Emily and her mother Sera helped him out when they could.

To this day Adam still has his father's guitar and hoped to play in a place of his own one day. A restaurant where he could play his music.

The dream was just that a dream. But that was okay.

Until Adam got the chance to get the place of his dreams. An old place down by the water front and he wanted to show Sera. She was the closest he had to mother.

Adam: What do you think!?

Sera looked around, there wasn't much there. More rats than anything.

Sera: It's.... Interesting dear.

Adam: Oh Sera, once I clean the place up it will be great. I'm almost there! I can feel it.

Sera: Oh honey, I don't-

Adam: Just picture it!

Adam went into detail of everything he saw for the place and Sera smiled. She was so proud of him.

Sera: It will be a lot of hard work.

Adam: Always is.

*things were about to change for Adam in a very interesting way with the arrival of a cruise ship, it held twin brothers Lucifer and Michael, they were princes of a very far off kingdom and Lucifer was heir to the throne, but his parents wondered if he was the choice for the job and they told him if he didn’t prove himself responsible then he would be disinherited and Michael would be the heir, Michael watched Lucifer easily flirt with men and women with envy in his heart, everything came easily to Lucifer that he wanted to see him fail, just then he was approached by the richest woman in town Sera with an invitation to the Mardi Gras masquerade ball being held at her mansion tonight*

Michael: While I would gain from your failure, I would think that you would want to actually find a way to prove yourself responsible.

Lucifer: Don’t worry, it is just one masquerade ball, there will be good food and music. How about we relax for one night before I have to do the boring part.

?: Gentlemen, you must be the Princes that everyone in New Orleans was talking about.

*a man with short brown hair, lightly tanned skin, glasses, and dressed in all red stepped out of the shadows, the thing that stood out about him was his unnaturally creepy smile, what they didn’t notice his shadow moving on its own taking on many forms*

Michael: Who are you?

?: Why I am Alastor the Shadow Man and Master of Voodoo, would you like to see your future.

*Alastor started to play with his tarot cards while watching them, Lucifer then shrugged*

Lucifer: Why not?

*Lucifer dragged Michael while they followed Alastor to his shop, the shop was filled with many strange objects dealing with voodoo rituals and a radio playing an eerie yet cheerful tune*

Michael: How does this work?

Alastor: You could say that I have friends on the other side.

*after giving a very accurate reading of both brothers, Lucifer on how his laidback lifestyle was ruining his chances at the throne and how Michael hated being in the shadows of everyone around him, Alastor pulled out a pendant and used it to collect some of Lucifer’s blood and he started to chant a spell which made Lucifer turn into something smaller and covered in feathers, then Alastor turned to Michael asking him if he wanted to be involved in his scheme in taking over New Orleans which Michael agreed to while Lucifer ran away in shock once outside the shop he saw his reflection in a puddle of a white duck with red circles on his cheeks, but also had his top hat on, when he moved his arm in front of his face he instead saw a white wing*

Lucifer: What the fuck.

*at Sera’s manor Adam and Emily were hanging out while Adam popped a beignet into his mouth*

Adam: I should cut back on these, they made me gain a bit of weight.

Emily: There is nothing wrong with you, your cute and round chubby tummy makes you huggable.

*it was true that Adam had put on some weight because of stress, but if you asked anyone who knew him, they actually preferred him this way, he was mostly muscle but his stomach was soft round and chubby, his thighs were nice and thick, and his butt was nice and round*

Adam: The problem is that my costume for the masquerade ball from last year no longer fits me. This performance is important and I am hoping to buy the performance hall and restaurant tonight.

Emily: Don’t worry, your good friend Emily will buy you a fancy new costume.

Adam: You don’t have to.

Emily: I insist, you are my best friend. You know what, you should dress up as a prince tonight.

*they ran off to a high end costume shop where Emily looked through the costumes until she found a prince’s costume in Adam’s size which was dark blue, black, and gold*

Emily: This will look very nice on you. Who knows, you might get a boyfriend or girlfriend tonight.

Adam: I don’t have time for that.

Emily: I want to tell you a secret, tonight royalty is coming to the masquerade ball, as in princes. You might get one to help you on your music career. What if a prince falls in love with me and we get married.

Adam: You always wanted to be a princess,

*both smiled and talked about their dreams while making their way back to Sera’s mansion*

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

(Will Adam’s duck form be like Grumpy and be a girl duck)

[townofcadence]

Some more potential thread wishlist items :

-Short and silly thread where Artair and another muse deal with a third entity that attempts to overtake Artair because he's easy to possess due to being a medium with damage to his soul. However, entity was not prepared for The Bullshit that is Artair's neglected chronically pained body, nor is he ready for Artair's 'i'm not in here with you, you're in here with ME' attitude. The real nightmare is trying to be cool and monologue at the other muse with someone loudly looping the song that never ends in your brain.

-Horror themed thread where Artair received a letter from someone that asked him to investigate a specific house. He feels compelled to do so and leaves, and now it's been a little while, so another muse tries to figure out what's happened and where he is (narrative entity? changes the story to try to force you into a direction. Artair is especially vulnerable due to damage impacting magic effectiveness. might be a neat mystery or horror case)

- Artair trying to summon his wings on command shenanigans. Also potential pulling into the In-Between on accident? Other potential power related things like accidentally shocking someone or opening his other eyes and shapeshifting

-Masquerade because i'm weak to the dance

-A silly thread where artair decides to check on an old friend from one of his older cases (a dragon who when he last saw him tried to kidnap him for his hoard due to his pretty hair. he convinced him that wasn't the way and if he's lonely to try talking to people and maybe even online dating. He now has a partner and has invited Artair to dinner. Another muse is Artair's +1.)

-Artair taking a muse to the library he has access to at the lake.

-Mordred's Abyss-- artair and another muse entering and getting to play with some weird, liminal, otherworldly and some level of horror bullshit

-A case with artair where he showcases his reckless and self-sacrificing mindset due to being in a bad headspace

-Secret in the Mines oh boy. It whispers to you behind the door. Just let it out.

-Artair getting to do weird spoopy medium stuff with ghosts and memories and spirits and entities in general

-More 80s au Artair at @lionheartair blog because. i like him a lot jdjdj

-more things with the other muses probably >> I should work on that

[marblemoonstones]

🩵 🎞️ catharsis ~ chapter ten and a half

main masterlist

series masterlist

pairing: bts ot7 x reader

genre: collegestudentreader!au 

warnings: ❗️any characters in the story have nothing to do with their real life counterparts❗️f reader, reader with glasses

*lmk if i missed any*

word count: ~4.8k

a/n: i hope you guys see the vision with the film..it was lowkey kind of hard to describe 🥲

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

A black screen at first, then simple white words show up on the screen. 

“Golden Closet Films presents…Still With You: a film by Jeon Jungkook.” 

I sneak a glance at Jungkook, and his eyes are shining in the dim light, and I swear that in that moment, they hold the entire universe.

He meets my gaze. He smiles. I do too. In that moment we are the only two in the theatre.

Soft instrumental music starts playing as the other credits finish, and I turn my attention back to the screen, pushing down the feelings in my heart.

A magical scene appears. A silver castle is glowing in the moonlight, and the camera zooms in slowly to the ballroom. There is a masquerade ball going on inside, blurs of people dancing with extravagant dresses and masks on. But the camera focuses on one man. A king, wearing an elegant crown, cream suit, and crimson sash, the only one not wearing a mask. Jin.

I audibly suck in air, trying not to gasp as the man is right next to me. The story continues.

Although the king is surrounded by people, he seems alone. The people are blurs and shadows around him while he stands in the middle of the ballroom. The camera zooms out so we can now see that there’s a banner behind him written in cursive; “Happy Birthday.” The king is alone, even at a party celebrating him.

Cut to a house. Two-story, brick, cute. A homey place, per say. But the sage green door bursts open, and a woman walks out with three girls following her. She is dressed to the nines as a peacock, emerald green and sapphire blue hues decorate her feathered dress. Her mask is sharp, resembling a beak, and has a few plumes atop it.

The two girls are also dressed up, one in gold and the other in silver. But their costumes are gaudy and cheap looking. Feathers, sequins, glitter. The materials come together to make an honestly hideous outfit, but they flaunt it with their high hairstyles and haughty attitudes.

The other girl obviously isn’t as decorated as the woman and two other girls. I cannot see her face, just the back of her as she faces the woman and two girls. Her hair is nicely styled yet not as ornate as the other girls. The camera shows details of mysterious girl. A delicate ring of stars is around her head, and she’s dressed in an all-white outfit with soft feathered wings on her back. An angel. But then the film shows the imperfections in her outfit. Small rips here and there, a stain on the waistline. Her shoes are worn, and her mask is cracked on the side. Her face is still hidden.

“You are not going. You don’t deserve to, you stupid girl.” The woman is cold and harsh with her words, and I tense at the use of the word stupid. I know what this girl is feeling.

“Yeah. You’re worthless, and your costume is horrible,” the gold girl states.

“The prince would never fall in love with you.” Silver girl sniffs in distain as the woman (who I presume to be her stepmother) cackles.

“That’s right. So, behave until we get back. The house better be clean from top to bottom,” she demands, knocking into the girl’s shoulder as she passes her, “Come on girls. Let’s go.”

The two titter with laughter before gold girl darts her hand out and rips angel girl’s sleeve. This makes silver girl reach out and tears the wings.

Peacock woman laughs and walks to a carriage, a beautiful yet also gaudy looking thing, and the two girls follow.

I see what this is. It’s a unique telling of Cinderella. Jungkook really is a wonderful storyteller.

The carriage pulls away, and I see the girl drop to the ground in a heap. Her eyes brim with tears, and a few stray ones trickle down her face. She looks so desolate, so depressed.

But after a moment, she brings a hand and wipes her own tears. She makes a fist and pushes herself up from the ground. She stands on her own two feet. Her back is shown as she walks away from us and back into the house. In a tiny attic, the girl gathers the small number of things up. It’s clearly her room, with a picture of her and what I presume to be her mom and dad. After she puts everything in her backpack, she looks at the curtains hanging. They’re white and silky, surprisingly untouched, and not ripped. She contemplates for a moment before gently taking them down. A montage plays of her stitching and sewing something together, and before I know it, she’s standing there in a new dress. She walks out of the house and makes her way into the darkness, spine straight and head held high.

The theatre is dark, but I see so much light.

Cut to the ballroom. Jin now sits on a throne, listlessly gazing into the crowd. The party rages on, and there’s now a line of girls standing in front of Jin. Each one has pretty outfits on, but they’re stuffy and heavy with embellishments. Jin just nods as each one curtsies and attempts to get his attention. Gold and silver girl curtsy as peacock woman watches on, but Jin barely even spares them a glance. Peacock woman sniffs haughtily as her daughters go sadly to the dance floor. 

Dramatic instrumental music starts to play and the colors start to bleed and become more vivid on screen. The silver doors open and a confused looking girl is swept into the ballroom. Scratch that, it’s angel girl. She is disoriented as an attendant takes her backpack and escorts her to the end of the line. Angel girl attempts to smooth her hair then looks at the gorgeous ballroom. Time slows as her head tilts up to admire the majestic paintings on the walls. 

I feel Jungkook’s gaze on me but cannot take my eyes off the screen. 

Angel girl’s eyes widen when she realizes that she’s almost to the front of the line. The girl in front of her goes off to dance and she comes face to face with Jin for the first time. The music fades out and there’s only silence. Angel girl curtsies to the best of her ability and sneaks a glance up at Jin. 

He smiles, showing emotion other than boredom for the first time. Jin rises from his chair and holds out his hand, an invitation of some sort. 

In the theatre, I see Jin’s hand lying next to mine on the armrest out of the corner of my eye.  Should I? No. Well..maybe just this once. I mean, it doesn’t mean anything. I don’t know what makes me so brave but I hesitantly reach my fingers out to his. He reacts instantly, his hand entwining with mine. His eyes are on the screen but I see a soft smile appear on his face. I turn my attention back to the screen, trying not to freak out at the blatant hand holding we’re doing. Oh my god, Y/n. What are you doing?! Try not to freak out. It doesn’t mean anything. Yes, it does, but you don’t want to admit it. 

In the film world, Jin is now dancing with angel girl. It’s a gorgeous rendition of Cinderella, and the camera is overhead and we look down at them as Jin twirls angel girl. Her dress fans out and they smile at each other, not saying a word yet still understanding each other. 

The orchestra plays its last chord as the dance ends. Jin bows and angel girl curtesies. They come closer and look as though they could kiss, but then the clock strikes twelve. Angel girl’s eyes widen and she starts dashing through the crowd, bumping into people left and right. 

“I’m sorry! Please excuse me.” She apologizes as she makes her way through the crowd. She snatches her backpack from a very surprised attendant then disappears out the same gilded doors that she entered from. 

Jin takes long strides, attempting to follow her but he gets swept up in the crowd, multiple people trying to talk to him. His one arm is dramatically reached out, and he lets out a sigh; the sight of a desperate man. 

I hear the sound of hopeless music and Jin walks dejectedly back to his throne, sitting there and resuming the same bored face as earlier, except this time he glances towards the door every so often. 

Surely this isn’t the end, right? 

The ballroom is now empty, a stark contrast to the bustling atmosphere of earlier. There are attendants sweeping the floor and Jin stands and goes to leave, except when he spots something. 

No, it can’t be, I think excitedly. 

It is. Jin looks behind a porcelain vase by the door and sure enough, there’s a chunk of angel girl’s star crown. He snatches it and hastily looks around to see if anyone noticed. They didn’t. The scene ends with the corners of his lips turned up in a soft, sad, private smile. 

I glance at Jin and it seems that he’s wearing the same soft smile as in the film. Our hands are still entwined. 

“6 months later” is written on the screen.

The back of a servant is shown scurrying through a grand hallway with portraits on the wall, clutching a rolled up piece of paper like it’s gold to his chest. He finally reaches his destination and I catch a glimpse of his face. Is that Taehyung? 

I look at Jungkook, confusion on my face. He seems to understand as he just nods and bunny smiles. 

Taehyung enters the room and inside is Jin and what looks to be an advisor, as he’s wearing a formal suit and not servant garb.

“Your Majesty, here’s a message from the Queen of Concordia,” Taehyung says, bowing and giving Jin the scroll then departs. 

Such a cute cameo.

Jin sits down at his desk and the advisor stands patiently behind him. Jin’s brows furrow and he sighs, placing the paper down on his desk. 

“They want me to come visit,” he says, talking to the advisor.

“Well, your Majesty, your countries are in an alliance. It would be in your best interest to go. Unless you’d rather host them?” The advisor asks, making Jin groan. 

“No. There’s not enough time to prepare. I’ll go there in two weeks like they asked.” Jin begrudgingly writes a response and gives it to the advisor. “Please send this to Queen Hayoung.” 

Advisor man bows and gently takes the letter, leaving in big strides. The door shuts behind him and the scene ends with Jin staring out the window at the autumn leaves falling down. 

I’m entranced. This film is so gorgeously done, and Jungkook is such a brilliant storyteller. But, I wonder, what happened to angel girl? Did she escape her situation? Or is she still trapped in that house? 

An ornate carriage gleams in the sun, and Jin, now dressed in a more casual yet  still elegant button up and khakis, climbs into it. His crown is not present on his head, and he leans back against the plush seat and closes his eyes, the picture of a true royal. 

A white castle with deep navy flags and gorgeous gardens comes into view. 

“Your Majesty, we’re here.” The same advisor man gently wakes Jin up.

He opens his eyes and yawns, stretching slightly, then fixes his hair. 

“Thank you Yeojung. May I have my crown?” The advisor, now known as Yeojung, hands him the detailed headpiece. 

“Thank you.” 

The carriage pulls up and a servant opens the door, bowing as Jin and Yeojung step out. Jin nods to the servant, his glistening crown perched atop his groomed hair. 

Guards bow to Jin, then open the door of the palace. Jin grandly enters, the image of confidence. 

“King Seokjin! I’m so glad you could make it!” A woman around Jin’s age walks up to him, grinning. Her white dress reminds me of angel girl’s, yet it’s more stiff and structured. Her pointy white heels gleam against the pristine floor. She looks the perfect image of a queen.

“Hello Queen Hayoung. A pleasure to see you again.” Jin bows elegantly as Hayoung curtsies, and he gives a peck to her gloved hand. 

“Always the gentlemen,” Hayoung says, pleased as Jin’s display of respectful affection. 

“Now, shall we take a walk? I must show you your chambers while you’re here.” Hayoung starts walking, her heels clicking on the marble floor. Jin lets out an almost imperceptible sigh before diligently following her. 

Where is angel girl? I miss her, and hope that Jin doesn’t end up with Hayoung. That would be such a sad ending. 

The camera now shows a quaint cafe. Tucked among a friendly and home-like street, it boasts a pastel pink sign reading “Wings: a bakery for the soul.” The open sign is plugged in and there are wicker tables and chairs outside. The glass window shows cute treats, and as a customer walks out the white painted door, the camera goes in. 

Cozy tables and chairs furnish the inside, with a counter and work station along one wall. Watercolor images of pastries adorn the wall and soft Lofi music plays. There are a couple people sitting and eating/drinking, but the camera instead goes to the girl working the counter. She pours out a drink, seamlessly making a latte heart. She turns around and I gasp. It’s angel girl!

“Here’s your latte and your strawberry pastry.” She looks even prettier without the mask, and I can finally see her face for the first time. 

Angel girl puts the two treats on the counter in front of an anxious looking teen. He pays, but is distracted by a girl working on her laptop in the corner of the cafe. 

“For the record, she loves strawberry pastries,” angel girl says, smiling knowingly as the boys gulps but thanks her. He then makes his way hesitantly over to laptop girl, and they start to chat, him giving her the strawberry pastry. 

Angel girl smiles at them, shaking her head lovingly. Longing is evident in her eyes, but she turns back around to start preparing another drink. 

I can’t believe angel girl escaped! I hope that she is happy. But, still, I wish that she and Jin would meet again. 

Speaking of Jin, he occasionally squeezes my hand, and I can’t look at him when he does. I’m sure my hand is sweaty, and I wonder why he even wants to hold it. But I can’t deny how my heart rushes every time he gently squeezes. Luckily my attention is again stolen by the screen.

The moon shines in the sky, and stars wink across the velvet night. Jin is shown in a lavish four poster bed, with deep sapphire colored blankets and fluffy satin pillows surrounding him. But he isn’t asleep. He is under the covers but turned on his side towards the window, where the moon shines through, casting milky moonbeams on the plush carpet. 

The theatre is silent as Jin throws the covers off and goes to look out at the moon. There are no words to describe how he looks, but the best I can think of is ethereal. The silver moonlight makes him glow like an angel, and his thin white shirt only adds to the aesthetic. He gazes into the night before reaching into his pocket and pulls out a piece of metal. 

The piece of angel girl’s star crown twinkles in the pale light. He kept it.

“Someday. Please, someday,” Jin whispers, quietly begging to the stars above to meet angel girl again. 

She’s somewhere, I say mentally, you just need to look in the right place. 

The stars don’t respond, only continuing to shine in the canopy above. 

Jin pads sadly over to the bed again, and carefully lays the crown piece next to his own bigger and fancier crown. Then he crawls into the bed, and closes his eyes. 

The moon transitions to the glowing sun, and Jin blinks, a patch of sun directly hitting his eyes. There’s a knocking sound at the door, and Jin hurriedly sits up, trying to tame down his hair.

“Come in,” he says, morning voice raspy.

So hot, I think, then try to scold the thought away. But it’s getting harder to make them all go away, especially when the man is holding my hand and only a couple feet away from me. 

Yeonjung pops in, bowing. “Your Majesty, Queen Hayoung had an unexpected problem come up, so she will be attending to that all day. But she requested that you feel free to explore the kingdom today.” He bows again, then leaves Jin to get ready. Jin thanks him, then smiles. 

Angel girl is shown now, smiling too as she unlocks the cafe with some of her workers.

“What’s with the good mood, boss?” A girl asks, tying her apron on.

“I’m not sure. I just have a good feeling about today,” angel girl responds, shrugging as she starts putting out pastries. 

“So, your Majesty, what would you like to do today?” Yeonjung asks, as Jin pulls on his loafers. He’s dressed in a forest green sweater and dark jeans, looking even more casual than in the carriage. 

“I’m not sure. Let’s just go wander the streets for a while,” Jin suggests, causing the other to sputter.

“B-but your Majesty! What about security? And assassins? Oh no, what if-“

“Yeonjung. Please, we’ll be fine. I’m trained in basic combat, and, besides, this kingdom is very calm.” 

Yeonjung miserably looks at Jin’s determined face and comes to the conclusion that he can’t convince his stubborn ruler otherwise.

“Fine, your majesty, but please wear these sunglasses for some sort of a disguise.” He hands the dark shades over and Jin rolls his eyes, but puts them on.

“Happy?” He asks.

“No, but it’s better than nothing,” Yeonjung mumbles. 

“Great, so let’s go!” Jin happily walks out the door with a stressed looking Yeonjung following. 

I laugh a little, amused at how Jin’s sunglasses do not match his outfit at all. Oh well, they still look good on him, as everything does. 

Jin and Yeonjung appear strolling down a street with thatched rooftop houses. Kids are playing and people on bicycles zip past them. The sun shines, and there’s a slight breeze ruffling Jin’s hair.

“Isn’t this nice, Yeonjung?” Jin asks, “Just walking peacefully. No documents to sign, no annoying people…”

“Yes, your Majesty, but shouldn’t we be heading back to the palace soon?” Poor Yeonjung asks. 

“Soon…let’s go one more place. How about-“ Jin turns the corner and randomly points to a place “-there!” 

It’s the cafe where angel girl works. 

Oh my god. They’re going to meet again! 

“Fine, your Majesty, but after can we please go back to the castle?” Yeonjung pleads, hoping that Jin will see reason. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Let’s go get something to eat!” 

Jin has a pep in his step as he bounces to the cafe, staring at the cute sign.

“Wings, huh. Reminds me of you,” Jin says, peeking into his pocket at angel girl’s star crown piece.

Come on, come on, I think, rooting for those two to meet. 

“Wow, Yeonjung, look at all the pretty treats,” Jin says after he enters the cafe. 

“Yes, your Majesty. Now what would you like to get?” Yeonjung says, ushering Jin to the counter. 

“I don’t know, give me a second, Yeonjung!” Jin says, huffing dramatically as he scans the chalkboard menu. 

“Hi, I’ll be with you in one second!?” She has her back turned, hair in a ponytail as she makes a drink. 

“Okay,” she turns around, drink in hand, “What can I get for-“

“You,” Jin breathes, eyes blown wide and plump lips parted. He’s frozen, only able to stare at the girl he’s been searching for since the ball. 

Splash! Angel girl drops her drink, but doesn’t even pay attention to it. 

“You..” She matches his shock, eyes boring into him, as if she’s afraid that if she looks away he’ll disappear. 

Time stands still, similar to in the ballroom. Quiet music fills the scene, adding the right amount of drama to the critical scene. 

Jin steps around the counter and his loafers get all pink because of the drink on the floor. She watches him, still in disbelief. 

He gently cups her face and they both lean in, about to kiss when- Still With You: a film by Jeon Jungkook and Golden Closet Films. 

The words fade onto the now black screen. 

Was that the end? I wanted to see their happy ending! What happened with Jin and angel girl? Did they successfully get together?

The credits start rolling but I ignore them and turn to Jungkook, slipping my hand out of Jin’s. I miss the warmth, but have to discuss this ending with Jungkook. 

“Jungkook! How could you end it like that?” I exclaim, becoming more annoyed when he just smirks.

“What’s wrong, babe? Don’t like the ending?” He asks, making my face flush at the pet name.

“No, you don’t get to say that! I want to know what happened.” I cross my arms at him and shake my head. “You’re mean, Kookie, for leaving it at a cliffhanger.”

“I want the audience to make up their own mind about what happened,” Jungkook says, still smirking at my response. 

“Did you at least enjoy my wonderful acting?” Jin asks, making me turn my attention to him. 

“Yes, Jin you did great. The whole thing, the acting, set, cinematography, it was all amazing,” I gush to both Jin and Jungkook.

“Thank you, Y/n. Our Jungkook-ah did do a spectacular job.” Jin pulls the youngest into a side hug, hip checking him as Jungkook groans.

“Jin-hyung, there are people watching,” he complains, trying to pry himself out of Jin’s iron grip.

“I don’t care. You’re still my little Jungkook-ah in my heart,” Jin says, pouting for extra effect. 

I laugh and whip my phone out and take a photo before either of them can react. Jungkook looks so ticked off and Jin so proud in the picture. 

“Y/n, you delete that right now,” Jungkook warns, finally succeeding in untangling himself from Jin. 

“No.” I say resolutely, shoving my phone into my purse and zipping it. 

“Yes.” He argues, reaching for my phone. 

I laugh then dodge his hands, quickly going over to Namjoon. 

“Joonie! Take this and don’t give it to Jungkook.” I shove my purse into his arms and he takes it, confused nonetheless. 

“Okay..?” He holds it while talking with Hobi. 

I walk calmly back to Jungkook, who unfortunately got caught up talking to a critic. Jin stands politely next to him.

“Your work was stunning, Jungkook. I look forward to seeing your future films.” The critic claps Jungkook on the shoulder, grinning as he takes his leave.

“Thank you, sir.” Jungkook bows, then turns back to me, “There you are. Did you delete that picture?” 

“Yes,” I lie, praying he doesn’t see through me. It’s just a photo, for heavens sake! 

“I don’t believe you for a second babe, but for the sake of appearances I will let it go for now.” Jungkook narrows his eyes as Jin laughs. 

“Honey, let’s go,” he says, leading you to the rest of the boys, Jungkook following with a quick “Hey! Don’t leave me!” 

“Alright, everyone here?” Namjoon asks, handing me back my purse. 

I mouth a thank you before slinging it back on my shoulder, watching Jungkook out of the corner of my eye.

“Yep. Now let’s go home, it’s been a long night,” Yoongi says, ever the homebody.

“I agree,” Jimin says, leaning on Yoongi. 

My tiredness hits me like a wave, and I realize that my feet are hurting from my heels and my neck from watching the film. 

“Home it is.” Namjoon agrees before we make our way out to the car. 

I’m too tired to even pay attention to the seating arrangement, and don’t protest when I sit shotgun again. 

My thoughts are drifting in and out of consciousness, but I manage to stay awake until we reach the house.

I unbuckle my seatbelt, but Jungkook opens my door and holds out his hand.

“Here, babe, let me help you.” 

He sweeps me up bridal style, and I weakly protest.

“Jungkook, put me down,” I say sleepily.

“No, babe, you’re tired. Let me take you up to your room.” He leaves no room for argument, so I let him carry me up the stairs.

His muscles must be huge, my tired brain thinks unhelpfully. 

Jungkook lays me on the bed delicately, and unstraps my wedges from my feet. 

“As much as I want to let you sleep babe, you need to change,” he says, making me groan.

“Come on, babe, it won’t take long,” he insists, “Please? For me?”

I open my eyes and half heartedly glare at him.

“Fine. Just because you asked so nicely.” 

With all the remaining strength in my body I heave myself out of bed and stagger to my dresser. I pull out a big sleep shirt and sweats then stumble to the bathroom to change. Well, might as well brush my teeth too, I think, never one to want a cavity.

After changing, brushing my teeth, and taking my makeup off, I flick off the light and step into my room. Jungkook is still sitting on the bed, but now in pjs. 

“Kook? What’re you still doing in here?” I ask sleepily.

“Waiting to make sure you get to bed safely,” he responds, opening my covers back. “Now, come on and sleep.”

I take my glasses off and get in bed, sighing happily as I snuggle under the covers

“Good night, Y/n,” Jungkook says as he tucks the covers over me. He makes sure to put the blankets on top of me. Then he gets up and turns off the light, opening the door so that the dim light of the hallway spills into my room. 

“Wait,” I say softly, as he lingers in the doorway, “Ummm, well, no, never mind.” That’s such a rash idea, why would I even wonder it?” 

“What, Y/n? You know I’ll do anything you ask,” Jungkook says quietly, his figure blurry as he stands in the doorway.

He would?

“Ummm, well, I’m a bit cold, and was wondering if you would maybe want to um come and um warm me up?” I manage to say, closing my eyes in embarrassment. Why did I just ask Jungkook to cuddle with me in the more awkward way possible? Of course he’ll say no to a question asked like that.

“Y/n?” I hear Jungkook ask. Wait, he sounds close.

I open my eyes and a slightly less blurry Jungkook stands on the opposite side of the bed. 

“Jungkook?” I ask, squinting, “What are you doing just standing there?”

He looks bashful (well, from what I can see) and pulls back the covers slowly. “Are you sure that you want me to..well..” he gestures to the bed and I start to worry. Does he misunderstand what I mean? Or does he not want to cuddle? Oh god, am I forcing him to do something he doesn’t want to?

“Oh, well if you don’t want to cuddle then just tell me, I don’t want you to feel forced to and-“

“Y/n.” Jungkook climbs in the bed swiftly, tucking the covers up and turning on his side to face me, “Don’t overthink it. Of course I want to. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.” 

He gets closer to me and I can see his face more clearly (nearsighted vision for the win I guess). His big baby lamb eyes, his perfect nose. Those full, pouty lips that look so kissable. Little moles dot his face, and they’re like small angel kisses to me. His tousled naturally colored ebony hair is messy, and I smile. 

I wish I could capture this moment, somehow copying and pasting it into a scrapbook of memories. 

“I’m comfortable,” I murmer, “So let’s just go to sleep now.” I turn over to my other side and slowly scootch back so my back is against his. 

He wraps his warm arms around me and we spoon to sleep. 

I dream of a boy with doe eyes and gentle touches.

a/n: why do i kind of hate this 😭 as always, so sorry for not updating, but finals week is approaching and i have to stay focused. 💪🏼 please stay safe and healthy, and to anyone with finals, best of luck!! 🩷🩷

[crisiscutie]

Incorrect Dissidia AU quotes

*Aerith is teaching Dissidia Darling to mentally resist Sephiroth's attempts to infiltrate her mind.*

Aerith: Sephiroth believes he is the center of your world, and he's right. But you're the JENOVA queen and you gotta show him he obeys YOU! He can't control you directly, you know.

Dissidia Darling: I suppose...

Sephiroth: *in Darling's mind* Mother, what are you doing? 🥺

Aerith: Ignore him and focus on me. He should know we are having a conversation right now.

Sephiroth: *his sweet voice now has a menacing tint to it* Don't you love me, mother? Can't you see that I'm unhappy without you? 😢

Dissidia Darling: He sounds so sad, Aerith... Maybe I should talk-

Aerith: No, no, it's a lie. You should tell from his persistence that he still sees himself as the dominant one.

Dissidia Darling: You're right. I'm in control of my destiny! *Kicks Sephiroth out of her mind by sheer willpower*

Sephiroth: ... THAT CETRA-🤬

It is now canon in the AU that Aerith help started Darling and Sephiroth's power struggles 🤭

[saphira-artandoc]

C3 swap AU

Dorian Storm

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This contains spoiler up to E115!!

If you wonder what the swap AU is, I recommend checking it out right here!

This one is dedicated to @theplatinumcritter and @czpeterp. Both helped me a lot in the creation process of Dorian two years ago. Look how far we’ve come!

Title: Sir Dorian Storm, Lost Muse of the Fair Winds

Age :27

Class: Bard (College of Glamour, Feylost)

EXU - Start of C3

Dorian’s earliest childhood memory is from the Feywild. He didn’t know his name or how he came to the Ligaments Manor, just a simple melody in the back of his mind and a wooden flute by his side. The hag living inside, Morrigan The Fatestitcher, took care of him like he was her grandson. She gave him his name, Dorian, which would later evolve into Dorian Storm due to innate magical ability to summon lightning.

He left the Ligaments Manor at 26, not only to discover the world of Exandria, but also to deliver a parcel to Birdie Calloway. A few weeks into his travel, he would meet Orym and Fearne, camping not too far away from Emon. The trio would them meet up with Dariax, Opal and Fy’ra Rai. After the lost of the memory of the previous week, the group, now missing a Fy’ra, would party at the Everdawn. They would later find the Circlet of Barbed Vision, which would create tension within the group to know what to do with it.

In 843 P.D., he joined Orym and Fearne to Jrusar, Marquet, to find Oshad Breshio, a survivor of an assassination similar to what happened in Zephrah six years ago. He would meet the other members that would later become Bells Hells while fighting animated furniture.

Before the ball, Bells Hells would investigate the case of missing people near the Starlight Theatre. It’s where he would meet Cyrus Wyvernwind, who believed Dorian is his younger brother due to the striking resemblance to his father.

After managing to smuggle Cyrus away from the ball, Dorian took the ultimate decision to leave Marquet with him, as both men could be arrested for the bounty on Cyrus’ head. He believed Cyrus could be the missing link to his fussy childhood memories. He gave to Fearne the little parcel containing the weave lens and left, gaining a matching Sending stone connected to Orym.

Back with the Crown Keepers, he would spend some time in various places on Tal’Dorei, including Kymal. It’s where the group would meet their latest member, Morrighan Ferus. After a successful heist, the Crown Keepers would leave the city, and Opal would become somber.

Dorian would come back with Bells Hells after the disbanding of the Crown Keepers and the death of Cyrus. He would follow them back to their adventure to stop Ludinus Da’leth to release Predathos and travel to Ruidus with all of them and the Mighty Nein.

While not confirmed as partners, he has been shown reciprocating Orym’s feelings.

The masquerade ball

At the ball, Dorian gladly took the role of a royal from one of the Feywild court, trying to renew ties with the Material Plane. He embellished Bertrand’s gambler’s rapier to look like an ornamental sword that he named Typhonus.

He introduced himself as Lord Apollo Indigo Sonore Amaadon V of the Court of Lady Morrigan of the Feywild. He took inspiration from the De Rolo to create his name, since he believed having that many would make him feel legit.

He also named his entourage as Corpernicus (Orym), Lady Fearne Calloway of the Air Ashari and Maud (Imogen)

After the ball however, his stress got the best of him and tried to come up with different names for his troupe, including:

Sir Copernicus of the Seven winds, right hand of the Lord;

Lady Fearne Calloway of the Air Ashari, Druidesse of the Moon;

Lady Maude of the Timberwoods, Handmaiden of the Lady;

And Lady Irene of the Timberwoods, supernova of the skies and keeper of the moons, which was his third attempt for Imogen’s name that she quickly shut down for using the same first letters as her real name.

After fighting Opal

Dorian had been gifted with the winged boots Cyrus used to wear a day before the fight with Opal happened. Cyrus believed that Dorian would have a better use of them than he would. He also let himself grow a goatee to see what it would look like, to which Cyrus had said that he “looked like our father”. When Cyrus died, memories of his time as Brontë Secondsun Wyverwind flooded back and Dorian began to question his whole identity. The light breeze flowing his air around would drop, grounding him with the weight of what happened.

When he left Dariax at a tavern with his lute, he travelled alone to Zephrah, hoping to speak to the Voice of the Tempest. She let him stay as long as he needed and lend him some spare Ashari clothes she could find that fit him.

At the mention of his friends returning to Exandria from their mission on Ruidus, he asked Keyleth to travel back to them with her. He kept the Ashari clothes until he could change into is battle ready outfit.

Vasselheim - Lost Muse of the Fair Winds

He wears his hair in a bun, with a few hair pieces framing his face.

His jewelry is now golden in colours, accepting his role as the only son of the Wyverwind family.

He still wears the mithral shirt, but also a sleeveless top to prepare for battles. He painted his mandolin to match his outfit.

The shoulder piece is that of a butterfly, a symbol deeply tied to Dorian. The belt is also different from his canon variant, this time being based of dragon wings overlapping one another.

He was also able to summon Coriolis, a fable mount of the Wyvernwind thanks to the melody he knew someone hummed to him, which was his mother.

He would receive on loan Gambocleft, the vortex blade from Zeru Wyvernwind, his father. He gave Bertrand’s gambler rapier in exchange.

Pull of the Planes

During their travel to seek out the Qoniira Tetrarchy, Dorian felt the pull towards the forest where he knew a gate to the Feywild stood, the same one his nana made him walk through. Near the gate, his body would began to change, but not as drastically as Fearne’s did. His forearms and arms would change to a pale sky blue colours, almost white near his fingers, becoming translucent. He would float a couple inches off the ground, his hair gently flowing around. The markings on his body would also glow brightly through his clothes, giving him an ethereal air to him. This ability would later be seen in Zephrah and used as his Unbreakable Majesty, not needing to be close to the Feywild or the Air Plane to channel it.

Mirror Dorian

Mirror Dorian, also known as MirDor by the Crown keepers, is a doppelgänger charged to sabotage the Fatestitcher’s plan to aid Birdie Calloway with the telescope she helped build with Ira. He is taller, have longer arms and legs than Dorian and wears and curious outfit created from bits and pieces of his Feywild attire with elements he doesn’t recognize. He has long hair reaching his knees, the tip of it translucent with what appear to be spiderwebs mix with it. He wears the Circle of Barbed Vision, oily substance trailing down from where it’s stuck to his head. MirDor’s job is to prick at Dorian’s insecurities about his upbringing, hinting that the Circlet will finally give the power and strength necessary to take back what was stolen from him by all means necessary. At Dorian’s refusal, MirDor would proceed to attack the Crown Keepers, turning Orym against the group and forcing his hidden lycanthropy to fight. Even defeated, he would still haunts Dorian and unfortunately for him, had been right about a few things relating to his past.

Summer cloak - Winter cloak

Dorian has two different cloaks he can wear during summer and winter in Exandria.

Both are inspired by real butterfly: the summer cloak is based of a common blue butterfly and the winter one is based of a bluish spring moth.

He would also lend the cloak to his friend if they are cold, either during their journey or while he’s on watch while camping outside.

Relationships

The Crown Keepers: Dorian’s first adventuring party and friends he made in Exandria. He would do anything to protect them, even going as far as destroying the world for them. When Opal decided to wear the Circlet of Barbed Vision, Dorian grew anxious of her well-being, knowing the Spider Queen could make of her a puppet. His anxiety had been proven when Opal was forced to fight the group, indirectly killing Cyrus in the process. He bears no anger toward his her, only to the goddess.

Fearne Calloway: She is Dorian’s partner in crimes. Both of them would work together to commit small bits of thievery, at the grand dismay of Orym. She, Dorian and Orym will often share a room together, with Dorian being the middle spoon. She was the one who suggested that they could save up their money and only get one room for the three of them depending on the price, to which Dorian agreed to followed by Orym. She’s one of his closest friend and was delighted to know she enjoyed her time at the Ligament Manor. He left her the weave lens, feeling like she had more chance to meet up with Birdie than he would.

Orym of the Air Ashari: Dorian’s love interest. Orym grew worried Dorian would leave him after biting his arm during the fight at the gate to the Feywild. This fight made them promise to not let Dorian go a dark path and for Orym to not turn into a feral werewolf. Dorian did feel like he broke his part of the bargain after learning Orym attacked his group on two separate occasions, even injuring himself in the process. They kept each other updated on their own different groups via the stones when they could. Orym was also the first person in Exandria that gave him a real flower via druidcraft, to prepare him for the musical showdown whit Annie. Dorian only knew how to create magical ones to glamour up, so he was delighted and kept the flower as long as he could. When Orym confessed his feelings for Dorian the night before their mission to stop Ludinus, Dorian was relieved to be reciprocated and only wished he could hold Orym for the night. The morning after, waiting for the signal to start their mission, Orym took Dorian aside and asked if he could kiss him, since he didn’t know if they would ever have the chance to do it again. If they survive what’s to come, they would both discuss what their future would be.

Bertrand Bell: While Dorian only knew the older gentleman for 2 days, he had grew fond of him and his skills using a rapier. Bertrand had wished to teach him some neat tricks he’d learned but that quickly ended when he was killed by Duggar. Dorian was angry for what happened and promised Bertrand he’d write a song about him. He would later avenge him by killing Duggar.

Bells Hells: Dorian’s second adventuring party. They are known to be quite chaotic to some extend, but they all got each other’s back. They helped Dorian at rescuing Cyrus during the ball and he’s forever grateful of them. He relish all the stories they share with him of their adventure while he was away.

Morrigan Calloway, the Fatestitcher: Morrigan is Dorian’s guardian. He sees her as his own grandmother, knowing they aren’t related by blood. She was the one who gave him his name and let him go to his adventure on Exandria if he could also deliver the parcel to Birdie along the way. She calls him her little songbird, due to the fact he was humming and singing a lot in his youth. She gave him the lure he travelled with, saying it belonged to an amazing bard long faded to time. She promised him he could always come back to her and she would gladly take him back. While growing up, Dorian knew to not wander too close of the chamber containing The Loom. It’s only with Bells Hells that he realized what it did. Even after learning of his past, he still loves his grandmother.

Cyrus Wyvernwind: Dorian’s estranged older brother and the fall guy of a theft he didn’t commit. When Bells Hells went to see the Hubbat Corsair, he was surprised to see a man resembling his father. He would start following the group, hoping to get a moment to talk with Dorian. When they travelled together back to Tal’Dorei, Cyrus told Dorian bits and pieces of his childhood, how he used to have a little brother and how one day he just forgot everyone at the Squalls, including himself. He was never seen again, being told Brontë fell ill and his ailment killed him. He also mentioned that the day his little brother lost his memory, strange powers awakened in him. This is why he left the Silken Squalls a few month ago, trying to understand his powers and searching where his brother was, as he never believed his parents.

The Wyverwinds: Dorian had no memory of his blood family until the death of his brother, Cyrus. The reason why is because their parents made a deal with the Fatestitcher to ensure the Silken Squalls would be stronger and survive whatever will happen following the apogee solstice set for 843 P.D. The result of such protection made Dorian forget his life as Brontë, even if his family try to make him remember, and Cyrus possessed Feywild magic that he couldn’t control. The reason why is according to Morrigan, Cyrus’ power could be the protection they requested, if he masters it correctly. Dorian however would be a memory of the past and be no use to them, he would be best left with the hag.

Now to our current time in this universe, Dorian understands their decision was made due to fear of losing their loved one’s and he truly believes there was no ill intentions to it. However, he said they shouldn’t have lied to Cyrus and the rest of the Squalls about his predicaments., seeing how the Wyvernwind are not left with a son that is supposed to be dead. Zeru agreed, acknowledging their mistakes. When asked if he’d like to meet his mother and the Silken Squalls one day Dorian agreed, but he knows it won’t be soon.

•

•

•

Whew, he’s finally done. I swear I thought I would have been able to show him last week but turns out instruments takes time to create, including the cloaks. For now, Dorian has more outfit variant than the rest of the Hells.

Major thanks again to @theplatinumcritter to help co-write Dorian’s story and to @czpeterp for coming up with the idea of a sunset peak-a-boo hair for Dorian, since I didn’t know where this motif would go on our lovely bard.

Also fun fact: when deciding who should be next in line I used a spinning wheel generator and it picked Orym bsbdsjsbdghjdhs

He should be done by next week, but again he can still make me work overtime like Dorian did so, again don’t quote me on that!

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Overture ~

A Harmony of Haunted Hearts ~ Bonus Scene ~ 3.1k

Hazbin Hotel/Phantom of the Opera AU ₊⁺⋆ Charlastor (eventual Chaggistor) ₊⁺⋆ Explicit

//This is a little excerpt of my Phantom of the Opera inspired throuple romantasy, updating weekly on Ao3. You can read the first chapter now...but this is the good stuff now hehe//

-----{--(@

Princess Charlotte Morningstar stumbled over the threshold and into the safe haven of her bed chambers. 

She ducked, gathering the skirts of her ballgown out of her way. Her long blonde hair fell loose and tumbled over her shoulders as she slipped into her shadow-drenched bedroom. 

She stilled as she caught sight of herself in the ornate, floor-length mirror that had been a constant part of the Morningstar Castle—ever since she could remember. 

Charlie stared at her disheveled appearance—her hair undone from the intricate style Niffty had crafted and her cheeks flushed a brilliant pink. 

She looked a mess. And she was glad no one else in the kingdom would see her in such a state. 

The heavy door of her bed chambers slammed shut. 

 Charlie watched as it move on its own in the looking glass, cutting off the shimmering light from the marble hall and the raucous sounds of the ongoing celebration downstairs. 

She spun, her back pressed against the polished surface of the mirror, goosebumps prickling over her bare neck and shoulders. 

As a shadow stretched along under her door, unaffected by the long gothic windows and the moonlight from the Realm of Hell’s red sky. 

“I know you’re here.” Charlie breathed. Her voice giving a little tremble. Her eyes darting around the room, eyeing every bit of shade. “You can come out now.” 

For a long moment, where Charlie could only hear the sound of her own pulse thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings in her ears, there was nothing but silence. 

Until a familiar chill ran down her spine. Her eyes darted to the inky darkness collecting under the door, seeping into her room, until they gathered up into a tall and lithe shadow of a man. 

Charlie’s breath caught in her throat as he finally spoke. 

“My dear,” came that smooth, static-tinged voice. “You know, I’m always here.”

The umbra clung to Alastor as he took a measured step towards her with the grace of a killer. 

A shaft of moonlight pierced through the high windows, finally illuminating the demon that had been mythologized into the monster. Bathing the Radio Demon in an ethereal glow. 

The phantom of Morningstar Castle was a vision of dark elegance. 

Alastor stood out in stark black among the other masquerade outfits with their flashing colors. Like the living embodiment of his shadows. Other than the striking scarlet coat with its delicate layer of dark lace. 

“Al,” Charlie felt a tug at the corner of her lips, though she still gripped to the mirror’s gilded edges. “I wasn’t sure you’d follow me.”

“Now, Princess,” Alastor’s voice purred, rich with amusement and unmuffled by the smiling, fanged mask that covered the lower half of his face. “As if I would ever stray far from you. Perish the thought.”

Charlie bit her bottom lip as he drew nearer. 

She would be missed from the party, and she was torn between her duty as Lucifer’s only child…and the dark desires Alastor stoked within her. 

Another step towards her, so slow that her heartbeat grew painful in her chest. 

He was doing this on purpose, he always was. 

“You seem conflicted, my dear,” Alastor observed, now mere feet away. “Having second thoughts?”

 “Never.” Charlie shook her head, blonde curls bouncing.

The shadows around Alastor’s form pulsed with demonic energy. She blinked, and he was gone. Vanished right before her eyes. 

Charlie called his name as she pushed herself up from the looking glass behind her, staring around the shadows of the room, waiting for him to make another dramatic entrance—as if one just wasn’t enough for him. 

“Do you always have to be so theatrical?” She huffed, despite the shivers of anticipation building along her skin. 

“Yes, darling, remember who you are speaking to.” His voice answered from nowhere and everywhere, like it was coming from the very stones of the castle. She felt a presence right behind her. Charlie barely had time to turn, as Alastor materialized from the mirror. 

Charlie gasped as arms wrapped fully around her. His chest pressed flush against her back, the cool black porcelain of his masked pushed against her ear. 

His heated breath spilled through the mess between the golden fangs—a delicious contrast that had her trembling in his arms. 

“This show has only just begun.” 

Alastor twirled the Princess towards her mirror, making her grab the frame to steady herself. 

Charlie stared at their reflections in the polished glass. Her rumpled white dress and tousled blonde curls were another gorgeous contrast to his perfectly composed silk and satin.

His eyes gleamed bright and scarlet above his smiling mask. 

“Al…” she began, but the whine caught in her throat. Desire quickly drowning the nagging voice of caution in the back of her mind. 

“Darling…” he whispered back, already overwhelming her senses with his pure proximity, let alone his purr. “Now, where were we…before those angels downstairs so rudely interrupted?” 

His chuckle was filled with dark promises that made Charlie’s thighs press together. 

Just as she felt something sliding its way up her ankles.

In the mirror’s reflection, she saw the shadows—his shadows gathering around the golden hem of her ballgown, delving under her skirts, and caressing up along her thighs. 

“Angel Dust—” 

Alastor’s hand pressed against her chest, pushing her back into his own, his black and red claws a vicious sight against the delicate bodice of her gown and the fragile skin of her throat. 

“—will kill you, if you rip this dress like you ripped my breeches.” Charlie tried to warn, but even in her own ears it came out like a desperate keen. His shadow tentacle had found what they were seeking—and were already stoking the heat between her legs. Nuzzling their way through her folds and gathering her arousal. 

All the chiffon and silk of Angel’s creation had been no match for Alastor’s wandering, tenebrous touch. Let alone her undergarments. 

Not in the ballroom, and certainly not in the Princess’s bedroom. 

“He can try to kill me all he likes,” Alastor chuckled, his breath spilling back over Charlie’s collar bones as his scarlet nails scratched lightly at her skin. “Many a man has tried and failed. ” 

She pressed back into his hold, soaking in that damn cocky confidence Alastor exuded. Wanting him to consume her. Charlie could hear the smirk on his lips as his shadowy tentacle finally, finally slipped back inside her. 

A gasp was pulled from her lips. But his eye gleamed a a dazzling ruby in the dark over her shoulder as she clutched to his arms. Another dark appendage flicked teasingly slow at her clit. 

Charlie writhed in Alastor’s hold. 

He already had her so damn worked up, why bother teasing now? Didn’t he already have her?

“Why so silent?” He purred at her ear, his arms tightening their hold around her torso. “If you’d kept this quiet before, we could have finished playing downstairs.” 

Charlie’s head bowed under the ministrations of the two tentacles under her skirt, her hair tumbling over her shoulders as she trembled in his arms. It felt so good. Being so…possessed by him like this. 

“Those dancing fools in your court never would have—”

“Alastor.” His name on her lips was tinged with protest. 

 She didn’t want to think about the visitors from the Kingdom of Heaven or the Goetia and their schemings. Charlie didn’t want to think at all. 

“Ah, should I help you focus on the present, dearest?”

Before Charlie could snark back an answer at Alastor, she felt another tendril of darkness slide up her legs, slick and cool against the gooseflesh erupting along her thighs. The tip pressed deftly against her furled ring of muscle, thinning before it slid into her ass. 

The Princess let out a sound of sheer bliss as her body bowed forward into the mirror. 

Alastor’s eyes were a radiant glow in the dark, glinting with an unholy hunger and pride as he watched her brace her hands on the mirror and give herself over to the feeling of being so utterly owned by the Radio Demon. The thrill he dragged from her with every push and pull of his shadows. 

Charlie was vaguely aware of fingers coming to clasp around her wrists, moving her bracing hands off of the looking glass, and onto the heavier ornate frame. 

“That’s a good girl,” Alastor praised her, nearly making her tumble over the edge then and there. 

She was his. He was hers. And nothing could change that. 

Alastor’s long fingered hand curled under Charlie’s chin, lifting her head up sharply. “Look at your face in the mirror.” He commanded her, voice low and seductive in her ear. 

Her eyes flew open, meeting her own completely debauched reflection. Charlie could see her own bitten lips, her cheeks flushed, and her gaze hazy with all he was doing to her. 

“How beautiful you are, ” Alastor praised in a purr. “Like a Princess—thoroughly ravished by her shadow demon.”

Charlie couldn’t deny it. There’s something about being taken by Alastor like this, about being completely at his mercy, that made her feel more alive than anything else. 

“You belong to me, as I do to you.” 

She leaned back against him, giving herself over to him. She trusted him, trusted him to take care of her, to protect her, and to give her the pleasure she craved. 

His hands pressed hers into the frame of the mirror, his fingers long and wicked and threaded through her pale grasp. 

As his shadows lifted her skirts before the mirror. Baring Charlie and what his dark powers were doing to her before his gaze. His scarlet eyes left a burning trail along every inch of exposed flesh, like she could feel their caress. The demon’s body shuddered against her back. 

Charlie gasped out Alastor’s name as he tightened his grip around her, plunging his shadows deeper into her—until she was lost in the feeling of him. And the bliss he drew from her with a sigh. 

-----{--(@

“Al…please.” Charlie whined as he shifted, wrapping his arms around her middle as his shadows stilled, just keeping herself upright against the mirror. 

“So impatient, little love?” Alastor’s heated breath tutted through his mask and tickled against her ear. “Please what?”

Charlie reached behind herself in the mirror, her fingers finding the fangs…and the lips of the smiling mask that Alastor wore. 

His body froze against her back. 

“A creature as beautiful as you should never see something so hideous.” Alastor murmured, his voice low and rougher than she was used to hearing it. “You do not know what you are asking for.”

“That’s all I ask of you.” Charlie asked in her softest and sweetest voice as her fingers curled into the edges of the porcelain. “To know all of you.” 

His breaths hesitated at her neck, but she knew Alastor was considering. Because even she knew that the Radio Demon had trouble resisting the Princess. He would do anything for her. 

“Please,” she said again, her voice a little stronger. “I want to feel your lips on mine again.” 

Alastor shivered behind her. 

And the deepest darkness fell over Charlie’s eyes. 

But she knew she’d won, as she always did, when she heard the clasps of the mask come undone at her ear. He’d wrapped one of his shadowy tentacles around her eyes, but still, he’d given in to her, as he always did. 

Even if he acquiesced with a growl. 

Then Alastor’s lips were on her neck, the edge of his razor-sharp teeth against her skin. His lips gentle as ever along her neck. 

Charlie couldn’t see him. He hadn’t allowed that yet, but she could feel him. She reached for him blindly, her fingers brushing his cheek. 

He flinched at her touch. 

His skin was rougher than Charlie expected, like old wounds marred his face near the hard line of his teeth. 

“Why would you want to know the face of a monster?” 

He asked, his voice low and husky. His breath fanned against her ear, sending a fresh wave of desire coursing through her veins.

 There was hesitation on Alastor’s breath, but Charlie didn’t care that he was disfigured. 

“Because you’re the man I love,” she replied, her voice steady and sure. “And I want to kiss every inch of you.”

She threw her arms around his sharp shoulders and kissed him, anyway.

Passion and possession. 

The softness of her lips against scars she could feel carved into his face, and what she thought were stitches criss-crossing his mouth. 

She pulled him closer, pressing her lips to his and tasting the dark sweetness that was uniquely Alastor. Charlie kissed him harder until she felt Alastor groan. And his fingers tangled into her blonde hair. 

His body pressed hers back into the cool glass of the mirror, his long-fingered hands roaming her body with a new fervor. As she felt his dark powers lifting the skirts of her ballgown. 

“Please Alastor.” Charlie murmured against his lips, tugging at the lapels of his coat and feeling the texture of the lace under her palms. “Haven’t you kept me waiting long enough?”

A dark chuckle rumbled out of his throat. “I suppose that I have.” 

Alastor needed no further encouragement.

Charlie felt it in her stomach the instant his shadows lifted her up from the marble floor of her bedroom, peeling back the miles of rich fabric, thrilling her as he exposed her to the cool night air of the room. 

“Darling girl.” Alastor purred, his lips against her cheek, his growl in her ear as his body pressed against hers. “How could I ever deny you anything?”

The tip of his cock was just brushing, teasingly, agonizingly against her slick entrance. Charlie groaned out her impatience, trying to pull him forward by the lace of his coat.

 “So impatient.” Alastor chided in that teasing tone of his. 

Her brows wrinkled against the dark tendril still covering her eyes, opening her mouth to verbalize her protest—when he finally slid inside of her with a slow, deliberate thrust. 

Filling her completely, claiming her as his own. 

He pinned her back to the mirror as his body moved into hers, and she tried to meet his every movement. Her fingers buried in the scarlet red hair, kissing lips she could not see. But, she could feel everything. Every thrust of his cock, the way his perfectly tailored clothes stretched over taught muscles, the way his shadows moved over her body, playing her like an instrument under his capable hands. 

And the way that Alastor’s lips moved with hers as he whispered his sweet and sinister praises into her skin. 

In that blessed, blissful moment, he was hers, and she was only his. And nothing else mattered.

 No Kingdoms of Heaven and Hell. 

No angels and demons ready to war just outside their door. 

No other man trying to steal her hand away. 

Charlie let her head fall back, thudding against the mirror as she clenched down on Alastor’s cock in purest pleasure. Clutching to him as he filled her with a rough, harmonic hum into her ear. 

Alastor’s thin lips pressed tender kisses along her face and neck as their panting breaths mingled and slowed. 

Slowly, he pulled from her, pulling away, and the Princess felt the pang of loss the moment she was empty. 

Charlie cupped his face to his, knowing what would come before he uncovered her eyes, and trying to prolonge the moment for as long as Alastor would allow. The Princess got one last kiss against her Radio Demon’s scarred lips, before he set her back on her feet. 

And she heard his mask slide back into place. 

Charlie blinked as the darkness fell from her eyes. Even her dimly lit chambers seemed bright compared to his dark powers. 

“Al,” Charlie sighed, content but with a bittersweet tinge as the mask was back in place.

Alastor’s burning red eyes had calmed, and his hands seemed fixated on fixing her dress. Smoothing her skirts and adjusting her bodice. 

Though, when she reached for him, he let her fingers slide through his hair. And didn’t flinch away from her hand being so close to his mask. 

“Alastor.” Charlie nudged him gently. 

“They’ll be missing you from the party.” He murmured, his attention on lacing up her corset properly, though he never pulled them too tightly. 

Charlie’s eyes went wide with shock, looking around at herself, before finally taking a second to look in the mirror. 

She was a mess. Her hair was fallen from its curls and she was now sporting several love bites across her pale skin. Charlie put her hands on her hips, looking over her shoulder at the tall, dark, and still perfectly composed scarlet tinged figure. 

“You’re not seriously going to make me go back out there.” 

And she heard a chuckle from his throat. 

“You know well I could hardly make you do anything.” Alastor drew a hand through his hair, his ears flattening for a moment. “I shall send word to Husker that you’ve fallen ill for the night, shall I?”

Charlie’s scowl was replaced with a smile. “You shall. And if I’m feeling so faint, you should take me to bed.” 

His head turned sharply towards her before he gave a roll of his scarlet eyes. 

The Radio Demon inclined his head and gave a bow. “If my lady commands it.” 

Charlie was caught up in a fit of giggles as shadows swept her up into Alastor’s arms, his low chuckles joining her laugh as his tentacles parted the crimson curtains around her bed. 

Alastor deposited Charlie tenderly in the middle of her plush pile of pillows and comforters, kneeling beside her as he sank into the bed. 

“Won’t you stay?” 

Charlie asked him, grabbing for the front of his suit. 

She saw the hesitation in his eyes even as the mask gleamed its everpresent smile. 

“Princess…” He began, in that tone that told her he was trying to reason with her, that already brought the pout to her royal lips. “There are…esteemed guests in the castle tonight. I should keep an eye out.�� 

“Tell me you do not have a shadowy eye on every angel that steps over the threshold of Morningstar castle.” Charlie grinned. 

And Alastor sighed. “Very well, you win.” 

“I always do.” The Princess smirked, settling against him. Happy to have her Radio Demon at her side for one more night. 

-------{--(@

A Harmony of Haunted Hearts is a romantasy inspired by the Phantom of the Opera…with a happy, throuple ever after ending~

You can find it updating weekly on Ao3. 

[nodanova15]

A Dreadful Hallow’s Eve Ball

A work for lyranova’s 1k event! Congrats! :D @blackclover-emc

I was hesitant to participate, but then I saw so many lovely works that inspired me to do one as well! I took this opportunity to write about one of the side plots/stories of my next generation au!

Next Gens Featured: Felicity Vermillion, Calix Vermillion, Titaia Vermillion(not mine), Acier Silva II, Argent Silva, Adrius Silva, Adeline Silva, Gin Vermillion, Lune Grinberryall(vaguely mentioned)

Canon Characters Featured: Fuegoleon Vermillion, The Salamander, Nozel Silva, Jack The Ripper

(Background) Pairings: Fuegoleon Vermillion/Bridget Oriel || The Salamander, Jack The Ripper/Nozel Silva

Background Information: A short summary of previous events that affect this story: Felicity and Calix Vermillion were originally commoners from Ylve Village. As children their village suffered a great tragedy, burnt to the ground. The two siblings were the only survivors, and they were found by Fuegoleon Vermillion and The Salamander. The couple eventually formally adopted the children of Ylve. Soon after they also take in Titaia, a fire spirit. Recently Felix and Calix find out the tragedy that struck Ylve was no accident, and Felicity wants to desperately avenge their deceased parents.

Summary: Felicity has an opportunity to learn more about Ylve’s tragedy at the annual Hallow’s Eve Masquerade Ball.

Word Count: 3,905

This story is told from various points of view. Enjoy!

Felicity stared at the letter in her hands, and as she reread it she considered burning it, to destroy any evidence it was ever written.

The neat and pretty words promised answers, answers she’d been searching for for months.

Dear Felicity Vermillion,

It shall be on Hallow’s Eve, at the long awaited masquerade ball hosted by the Wizard King, where I’ll be waiting for you. It is your choice to make my acquaintance, but remember well, if you do not meet with me that evening, I shall no longer provide you with the necessary clues to find out the truth about what happened to your birth parents.

I will be waiting at the tallest tower of the castle’s east wing when the clock strikes for midnight. I will be wearing…a lion’s mask. That should be familiar for you, no?

As I promised, if we meet, I shall answer any and every question you might have, in exchange for the pendant your mother left with you.

Best Regards,

C. Y.

“Catalyst Magic: Flames of Ire.”

Felicity watched as the letter burnt to a crisp, leaving nothing behind except for lingering ashes.

She adjusted the strap of her dress, which had slipped from her shoulder, and walked towards her mirror. She scrutinized her appearance harshly, from head to toe. From her (temporary) blonde hair, just as it had been when she was a child, to her long, vermillion dress, and high heels. The garments felt foreign on her skin, but she pushed her discomfort aside.

She needed answers, and she would be getting them tonight.

The young Vermillion grabbed her mask, a gilded, intricate thing, and put it on.

• ☘︎ •

“Hey,” Calix sauntered up to his older sister, a tired Titaia accompanying him. They were both dressed for the occasion. “Tia told me you went back to blonde! Welcome back!”

“Do not get used to it,” Felicity glared at her brother. “I will dye it back after tonight.”

“What? C’mon keep it for a few weeks at least!” He grabbed her hand and then Titaia’s. “Look! We all match now!”

Titaia nodded along with Calix.

“I’m not keeping it blonde, Cal, and don’t look at me like that, Tia.”

Calix sighed regretfully, and Titaia huffed.

“Children, oh—good you’re all ready.” Fuegoleon hurried down to meet the three Vermillions. “We’re late. Let us—Where’s your father?”

Felicity and Calix shared a look before shaking their heads, and when they looked at Titaia, she shrugged.

“Then where—”

“I am ready, Fuegoleon Vermillion.”

The four Vermillions turned to look at the stairs.

The Salamander, Bridget Oriel, stood in a beautiful ivory and jasper orange attire, and was donned in gold jewelry. He looked breathtaking as he made his way down to meet his family.

Fuegoleon couldn’t help the fond smile that made its way to his lips, as he stared at his lovely spouse.

“Beloved little ones,” Bridget smiled brightly. “You all look truly astonishing!” He glanced at Fuegoleon, narrowing his eyes. “Hm, handsome, dereworthy.”

Fuegoleon gave him a (Felicity would describe it as a stupid, lovey-dovey) smile. “And you look as stunning as ever.”

Calix beamed. “You both look phenomenal!”

“Pretty.” Titaia uttered.

Felicity sighed. “Can we leave now?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“Little One,” Bridget turned to his daughter. “Are you in a hurry, perhaps?”

Felicity nodded slowly, and quickly thought of an excuse. “I just…I’d like to get there before cousin Adrius finishes off all the good desserts.”

Calix and Titaia went tense.

“We need to leave now.” Titaia nodded along to her brother’s statement.

Felicity hid a smile. It worked, as always.

“Alright, alright,” Fuegoleon herded the two menaces out of the Estate. “Let us leave at once.”

Bridget extended an arm to Felicity, and the young Vermillion hesitated for a second before she took it, and they left to catch up with the rest.

Her family’s ever lively presence took a little weight off of her shoulders. Yet the sense of impending doom grew again, this time overwhelming, as they neared the main Castle.

• ☘︎ •

“That blonde hair might fool all of your suitors, but not me, Felicity.”

Felicity turned around, and came face to face with a young woman. Her fetching silver hair was tied in an elegant, popular braided style, and her dress was dazzling. Her mask, matching in silver tones, obscured her eyes, but there was no room for doubt. This was the renowned, oldest daughter of Nozel Silva and Jack The Ripper.

“Good evening, Acier,” Felicity greeted her cousin. “I’d appreciate it if you lowered your voice. You’re right, the tameless men that chase me relentlessly have yet to recognize me. I’d like to keep it that way.”

Acier let out a short laugh. “Of course,” She whispered, and looped their arms together. “As much as I hate being discreet, I’ll do it for you, dear cousin.”

Felicity shook her head fondly. “What about your suitors?”

Acier groaned. “As irritating as ever.”

“You should’ve taken more advantage of the masquerade ball,” She pulled on a loose, blonde strand of hair. “Like I did.”

“And what? Have my hair dyed blonde?”

The two royals laughed, lighthearted.

“It’s good to see you, albeit a bit different than usual.”

“And after so much time,” Acier said, crossing her arms. “You’ve been so busy I barely see you anymore, Felix.”

Felicity averted her gaze. “I…apologize. I know I haven’t been present enough. I’m just busier than usual.”

Her thoughts wandered back to the letter. She glanced at the clock. It read 11:00pm.

“Calix told me,” Acier sighed. “He said you’ve been trying to figure out what really happened to Ylve Village.”

Against her parents’ wishes.

Fuegoleon had promised to reveal everything in due time, but after finding out they’d been keeping the truth hidden, and after her fight with Calix…she’s been more desperate than ever to get answers. That desperation led her to C.Y. a mysterious figure who happened to know a lot about a village that had burnt down two decades ago. (They’d never met face to face. They’d only ever communicated through letters, initated by C.Y.)

Felicity narrowed her eyes. “Calix…That brother of mine never learned to keep his mouth shut.” She sighed. “Look I understand right now is not the time, and that I shouldn’t be going behind my parents’ back, but—”

“I understand,” Acier offered her a smile. “And I know perfectly well that no matter what I say, you’ll end up doing it anyway, so instead of trying to stop you, I’ll help you.”

Felicity huffed. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I don’t want you, or anyone else, to get involved.”

“I wouldn’t get my hands dirty,” Acier supplied. “At least not that much. I could get you the reports.”

“The reports?”

“If you remember,” Acier subtly gestured to the other side of the ballroom. Felicity followed her line of sight and saw two Magic Knight Captains, away from the crowd, speaking between themselves. “My parents, mostly my dad, handled the case of Ylve long before uncle Fuegoleon even heard of it.”

That’s right. Ylve Village had been under Jack The Ripper’s surveillance months prior to the accident.

“You…have access to those reports?”

“Not currently, but I could get them for you.”

Acier and Felicity straightened up when Nozel noticed them staring. Jack turned to face them next, and laughed upon seeing their stiff postures. He waved at them.

Acier waved back, slowly leading Felicity away. “Perhaps we should take this conversation elsewhere—”

“Lady Silva!”

“Fuck.”

Ronnald Vitesse, a member of the Silver Eagles(following in his father’s footsteps), approached the two women.

“Ac—Lady Silva, I’ve been looking for you.” He said sheepishly. “Would you do me the honor of letting me have your next dance?”

“Apologies, but I’m busy right now.” She gave him an unimpressed look. “And I’m not interes—”

“She’d love to,” Felicity interrupted her. “I was just about to take my leave.”

Acier glowered. “What.”

“Great!” Ronnald extended an arm out to Acier, which made the latter take a step back.

“Hey, Felix!”

“Sorry,” Felicity scurried away into the crowd.

• ☘︎ •

As gracious, and tempting, as that proposition had been, Felicity would rather not get Acier into trouble with her parents.

Even if it’d be the safer option, to trust Acier rather than a stranger. It was better not to involve her.

Not to mention, she thought it’d be a waste to let C.Y. get away.

Felicity paused in her step when she came across the buffet table.

Calix and Titaia were staring down the last piece of strawberry shortcake, and across from them Adrius and Adeline were also eyeing the treat.

The only dessert Felicity had been looking forward to…

Felicity had to think quickly if she wanted to get that last piece before them.

Glancing around the ballroom she found the perfect solution.

Her cousin, Gin Vermillion, was standing just a few feet away from them, talking idly with one of the Grinberryall girls, and in his hands was a plate full of desserts.

Among them was a strawberry shortcake.

“Catalyst Magic,” She uttered under her breath. “Spatial Magic: Gateway.”

Gin’s grimoire began to glow dimly as Felicity borrowed his magic. In the blink of an eye the last shortcake vanished through a portal, and landed safely in Felicity’s hands.

“What the hell?” Adrius faltered, shoulders slumping.

“My cake!” Calix lamented.

“Gin.” The three of them turned to Titaia.

“That’s right!” Adeline pulled on her brother’s coat. “That portal looked exactly like Gin’s gateways!”

The four of them spotted Gin within seconds.

Felicity suppressed a chuckle as she hurried away with her cake, successfully getting away with it.

Another great distraction from the imminent encounter.

• ☘︎ •

Nozel observed Acier and Felicity conversing, and saw the moment his niece left Acier with Vitesse’s son.

He sighed. “I will be back in a moment,” He met Jack in a kiss when the latter leaned down. “Go help our daughter in the meantime.”

Jack arched an eyebrow, and narrowed his eyes when he noticed Vitesse prattling on to a very uninterested Acier.

The couple parted ways, and Nozel left satisfied when he heard Vitesse shout in surprise.

He walked around the room until he found Fuegoleon. Fortunately, the man was alone, gathering two cups of wine.

“Fuegoleon,” He stopped to stand beside the fire mage.

“Nozel,” Fuegoleon looked surprised to see him. “Good evening, I thought—”

“Have you taken notice that our daughters have been acting strange as of late?”

Fuegoleon paused and faltered, placing the two glasses down.

“Acier and Felicity.” Nozel clarified.

Fuegoleon’s brow furrowed. “Acier too, then?”

“Only recently, and I believe it’s related to your daughter.”

Fuegoleon sighed. “She’s been somewhat distant ever since we had an argument a few months ago.”

“About?”

“Ylve.”

Nozel stiffened. “You told her?”

Fuegoleon shook his head. “Not everything. I gave her and Calix the photograph of Calixtus.”

“I see,” Nozel crossed his arms. “I assume she’s trying to find out the truth on her own?”

“Most likely.”

Nozel glared at him. “Are you going to do anything about it? She could get in trouble, and drag the others with her.”

Fuegoleon took the glasses again and began to walk away. Nozel followed. “Bridget and I have been surveilling her at home, at the base, and Calix and Titaia are looking after her. They would tell me if anything happened. I have it handled, do not worry.”

Would they tell him?

“Perhaps it is time to tell them the truth.” Nozel suggested, keeping up with Fuegoleon’s slightly faster pace.

“If we do so, they will try to get involved with him.”

“Regardless, we should. C—he’s dangerous, but we’re far stronger. It’s why he’s stayed hidden for all these years. He’s as cautious as he’s a coward. But we could find him with Felicity’s Catalyst Magic, and detain him once and for all. She’s old enough to—”

“That’s a theory, and I’d rather not risk her safety for it.”

Nozel walked faster and got in front of his cousin. “For all you know she could be risking her life as we speak. It’s better to take initiative now and help them find justice for Ylve. We cannot let her do this alone—Even if she’s not doing anything now, she will eventually.” Sometimes Felicity reminded him of himself in his youth, and that worried Nozel.

Fuegoleon’s fists clenched around the glasses. He let them go when Nozel took them, and placed them at a silver tray nearby.

“Telling them…it’ll break their hearts.” Fuegoleon finally receded.

“I know.”

“Let’s tell them tonight. I will speak with Bridget.”

Nozel nodded. “I’ll tell Jack—”

“Gin Vermillion!”

Fuegoleon and Nozel watched as their respective children, being led by Adrius, marched up to their younger cousin, demanding a…dessert?

“Adrius…” Nozel sighed, exasperated.

Fuegoleon let out a short laugh, the tension slowly leaving his frame. “We should defuse the situation before it escalates.”

“Agreed.”

The two captains made their way across the ballroom, heading straight for the young royals. Suddenly a man from the crowd got in their way, and they bumped into each other.

“Apologies, sir.”

“Watch where you’re going.”

The man smiled, and placed a hand over his chest. “My sincerest apologies, Fuegoleon Vermillion, Nozel Silva.” He was tall, almost as tall as Jack, and he wore an expensive suit, coupled with a lion mask that covered the majority of his face, making most of his features indiscernible. “This lowly servant never meant to intervene.”

“It’s quite alright,” Fuegoleon assured him. “Do not fret.”

However, Nozel was struck with sudden familiarity. “Have we met before?”

The man only tilted his head sideways. “I think I would remember if I met a member of the royal court,” He laughed. “I’m just a servant of this lovely palace, that’s probably where you’ve seen me.”

Nozel wanted to ask him to take off his mask, but apparently it was a rule that no one could. Ridiculous.

He didn’t care enough to follow it.

“Take of—”

“I told you! I took this from the table. I did not use a portal!” Gin shouted, distracting Nozel for an instance, and that’s all it took for the mysterious man to disappear back into the crowd.

“Damn it.”

• ☘︎ •

11:45pm.

Felicity paced back and forth between the darkened halls near the entrance of the East Wing. She could still vaguely make out the commotion of the ball downstairs, and that did nothing to calm her racing thoughts.

She was going against direct orders from her parents, and they were just a few rooms away. Moreover, Acier had given her a way out of this meeting. Her cousin could get her the reports, and she wouldn’t need to meet C.Y.

Yet.

She couldn’t let this person get away. They knew too much about Ylve Village. Even if she could obtain answers elsewhere, she needed to meet this person.

He knew her late mother personally, and wanted her pendant.

She needed to know why.

The next passing minutes felt torturously slow.

• ☘︎ •

Bridget huffed. Fuegoleon had either gotten sidetracked or had completely forgotten about their drinks.

“Hey, uncle,”

Bridget brightened up when Argent Silva sat next to him at the Vermillion’s table. “Good evening, poppet.”

Argent nodded and leaned back on his chair.

…

Bridget decided to tease him when he remained quiet for too long. “Wouldn’t you prefer to fraternize with your peers, rather than to accompany an old spirit such as myself?”

“Everyone else is busy, and,” Argent averted his gaze, as a subtle blush rose to his cheeks. “You’re good company, so.”

Bridget felt his heart melt, impossible for a being such as himself, but Argent Silva rarely ever showed an ounce of emotion, and it was being directed at him! He grinned and gently tousled Argent’s hair. “You are great company as well, little one.”

Argent grumbled when his uncle’s claws left his hair messy, but didn’t protest further.

“Gin Vermillion!”

Upon hearing his brother’s voice Argent turned around, and sighed. “…And there they are.”

Bridget looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of his partner and Nozel Silva heading towards the commotion. Abruptly a man, donning a golden lion mask, ran into them.

Bridget frowned. There was something oddly familiar about that man. Yet the fire spirit could not decipher what it was, being a considerably far distance away.

“I told you! I took this from the table. I did not use a portal!”

The man in the lion mask passed unnoticed by the two captains, and just before disappearing into the crowd, looked at the fire spirit straight in the eyes and smiled. As soon as he vanished, his entire presence did as well, as if he never existed.

Bridget stood up. “Argent Silva, go to your father.”

Argent stiffened at the use of his full name, and scanned the ballroom, trying to find whatever it was that alarmed his uncle. “What?”

“I shall not repeat myself. Go, right this instance.”

Argent nodded slowly, and wasted no more time, leaving promptly.

Bridget observed the entirety of the ballroom, and started making a mental checklist, making sure everyone was present and accounted for.

His nieces and nephews were all clustered in the same part of the room, and his children too. His children.

Titaia and Calix, (mainly, only Calix) were now speaking calmly with Adrius and Adeline. Next to them Fuegoleon and Nozel were attending to an anxious Argent. And…

Looking around, he was able to find Acier with her other father.

And.

And…

He marched along the edges and corners of the ballroom, sifting through every crowd, every table, every spot in the dance floor, and yet he could not find…

Bridget stopped in his tracks. He needed to calm down and think rationally. He inhaled, then exhaled, involuntarily letting out a puff of steam. He only needed to find Felicity’s mana and he’d find her.

…

…

…

…

…

The clock struck for twelve.

Felicity held her mother’s pendant tight in her grip as she climbed the staircase of the tallest tower. Oddly, the torches that were lined along the walls were all long extinguished, and, although it was faint, her magic picked up traces of a spell. Her grimoire was thrumming, sensing this unknown magic. It wanted to absorb it and use it as its own—make it its own. Felicity pushed down the feeling as she finally reached the top.

The tower, like the way up, was dark, and as she examined the room she found she was the only person inside. However, the spell now felt overwhelming. Yet she could not sense a single person nearby.

Had C.Y. bailed on her? But if that was the case then what was it with this spell? Was he running late?

“Remarkable.”

Felicity felt a chill run down her spine at the sudden, unexpected voice. She turned around and saw a man in elegant attire, wearing a lion’s mask.

When had he arrived? She hadn’t heard or sensed him at all.

“You’re,” Felicity scrutinized him. “C.Y.”

C.Y. smiled, and the mere, seemingly innocent, action unsettled her greatly. It felt somehow sinister. “That’s right.”

Felicity held out the necklace. “I’m not going to stall. Here’s the pendant. I want answers.”

The masked man tilted his head to the side and hummed. “Take off your mask first.”

“What?”

“How can I be certain it’s you, Felicity Vermillion?”

Felicity narrowed her eyes. “Fine, but if I do so, you’ll take yours off as well.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, but then laughed. “Very well.”

Felicity discarded her mask and let it fall to the ground. As soon as C.Y. took in the sight of the royal, his smile finally faded away. “Your turn.” She prepared a spell in the back of her mind, one of Acier’s. They were fast and deadly, fitting if the man decided to cross her.

“I suppose now is the best time to tell you my name.” He took the strap of his mask and began to untie it. “C.Y. is short for,” He unclasped the final hook, and the lion mask fell to the floor, next to Felicity’s.

Felicity’s heart sank to her stomach, and her mouth went dry. “You’re—” Her eyes widened as they welled up with tears. She brought the pendant up to her chest.

“Calixtus of Ylve.”

A dead man walking.

Her mother’s younger brother. Her supposedly deceased uncle.

• ☘︎ •

Years ago.

Fuegoleon watched as the children played with Bridget, Adrius and Acier. The fire spirit had Calix on his back as he chased the rest of the kids. Adrius was leading his sister and cousins all around the garden, shouting and laughing.

The peaceful scene was interrupted when Nozel and Jack arrived.

The children cheered when they noticed Argent in his father’s arms. Nozel set down his youngest and watched as he ran to play with Bridget and kids.

“We were able to track down the person who caused the fires of Ylve,” Nozel started, sitting down next to his cousin. His husband remained standing, arms crossed. “However, he managed to escape.”

Fuegoleon clenched his fists. This was the third time he’d escaped.

“Keh, he was working with Katherine Poizot. They both got away.”

“Poizot?”

“Gueldre Poizot’s cousin.” Nozel supplied. “She has permeation magic as well.”

Fuegoleon nodded. That would make sense, and it cleared up a lot of his doubts.

“There’s something else.”

Fuegoleon raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“We know who he is.” Nozel took out a photograph out of his pouch. “Calixtus of Ylve.”

Fuegoleon’s eyes widened. “That’s—”

“Your kids’ uncle.” Jack said, finally taking a seat next to Nozel. “Apparently he and Poizot had been worshiping some ‘greater being’ that required a sacrifice. That sacrifice was Ylve.”

“We still don’t have all the details, or why he let the children survive, but….”

• ☘︎ •

Fuegoleon came back to the present when Argent approached them. He tried to pay attention to what he was saying, but his mind kept wandering back to that moment.

Tonight they would reveal the truth about Calixtus to the children, and utterly ruin the image of Felix and Calix’s beloved uncle. That man deserved their resentment. However, learning the truth would devastate them. They loved their uncle, or at least, the image they had of him.

“Uncle Fuegoleon?” Argent was glaring at him now. “Are you listening?”

“Fuegoleon.” Nozel urged him to answer.

“I apologize, I was not…” Fuegoleon sighed. “Argent, what happened?”

Argent frowned, very obviously upset. “Uncle Bridget! He was acting strange. I’m worried.”

“Bridget?” Fuegoleon tried to seek him out at their table, but found he was gone. “Where’s—”

“I don’t know! But you’re his host. Can you not locate him?” His nephew sounded desperate.

Fuegoleon placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright. I’ll handle this.” Argent nodded and stepped back, moving to stand beside Nozel.

Fuegoleon tapped into the bond he shared with his beloved.

Bridget, what’s wrong? Are you—

Fuegoleon Vermillion, I cannot find—I cannot even sense our daughter.

The clock struck for twelve.

Fuegoleon snapped his head toward his children.

Calix and Titaia were still talking with their cousins, but paused when they noticed their father’s worried expression.

“Father?” Calix moved to be closer to Fuegoleon.

Fuegoleon grabbed him by his shoulders, as gently as he could. “Where is Felicity?”

End?

This story is open to interactions!

Thank you for reading <3

Bridget Oriel is an interpretation of The Salamander and Titaia is not my original character. They belong to @t-f-t & @funky-sea-cryptid

[astronomical-bagel]

i think in a mlp au Grian's cutiemark would look like a stick of dynamite paired with some wings or smth and when he dresses as Ariana Griande she would put a sticker/makeup or smth to make it look like a microphone with wings (to hide her identity) and when anyone points out to Grian like 'hey look at Griande's cutiemark doesn't it kinda look like yours ahaha' he would kinda roll his eyes and go "suureee. because i masquerade as a pop star in my spare time. yup , that sounds like me." completely deadpan and absolutely no one would be suspicious of him /gen. its literally a foolproof plan.

[m-for-musings]

Ashes to Ashes

Pt.1

A Baldur's Masquerade (BG3 X VTM) AU, based in the 5th edition of Vampire: The Masquerade TTRPG.

Completely inspired by @ryttu3k

Dividers by @marquisedegramont

Astarion adjusted the lapels of his coat, his reflection in the cracked mirror showing only an elegant void where his features should be. It was a pity; he had always liked looking at himself. The candlelight flickered, casting a ghostly dance of shadows across the worn wooden floor of his quarters. It suited the house of a Hecata — elegant, ancient, and decaying, much like the Szarr family itself.

His thoughts, however, were not on the cracked mirrors or the crumbling walls. They were on Cazador, his sire, who had once again sent him on an errand that seemed beneath even the lowest of the Duskborn. Couldn't he had sent one of the other six thin-blood lackeys he had under his wing? Nonetheless, at least he'd have some time outside of the mansion.

Astarion ran his fingers over the soft, velvet fabric of his coat one more time before turning away from the mirror. No point in mourning what couldn't be changed. The mansion was a labyrinth of dark corridors, lined with dusty portraits of the Szarr family and their many lost heirs. Each step echoed lightly on the cracked marble, the sound hollow in the otherwise silent house. He could hear the distant murmurs of the other thin-bloods, tucked away in their corners, likely plotting their own pitiful schemes. Not that they’d get far. Cazador had them all tightly wrapped around his cold, skeletal fingers.

As he descended the grand staircase, the scent of old parchment, dried blood, and decaying flowers filled his nostrils. It was the familiar smell of home. A home that reeked of death. He passed through the main hall where heavy curtains shrouded the windows in perpetual gloom. Sunlight, if it dared peek through the cracks, was but a distant dream here.

"Off on another errand, Astarion?" came a mocking voice from the shadows. Violet, one of the other Duskborns, lounged lazily in a torn armchair near the hearth, a smirk playing on her lips. Her dark eyes gleamed with amusement as she twirled a lock of hair between her fingers. She always seemed too smug for someone just as chained as the rest of them.

Astarion didn’t break stride. "Jealous, are we? Looks like Cazador trusts me more than the rest of you rabble. Don't worry, perhaps one day you'll graduate to fetching his dry cleaning."

Violet laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. "Oh, I’m sure. Enjoy your little freedom, Astarion. We both know it’s only a matter of time until you fuck up and end in the kennels again."

He didn’t dignify her with a response, pushing open the front door of the mansion and stepping into the night. The air outside was refreshingly cold, crisp compared to the stifling rot within. For a moment, he let himself enjoy it, the feel of the night breeze on his face, the distant hum of the city below.

The streets stretched out before him, dimly lit by flickering, half-broken street lamps, casting weak pools of light over crumbling sidewalks. The silence was thick, almost suffocating, broken only by the occasional distant siren or rustle of garbage in the alleys. This neighborhood had once been grand — a place of wealth and opulence — but now it had rotted, decayed into a shadow of its former self, much like the Szarr mansion looming behind him. The city, like Astarion himself, wore two faces — one bright and bustling by day, the other dark and treacherous by night. And it was the latter that he thrived in.

As he walked, his steps light on the cobblestones, Astarion found his thoughts drifting back to Cazador. For all his grievances, there was a twisted sense of pride that flickered in his chest, one he loathed to admit. In the early years of his ‘internship’ under Cazador, Astarion had been the least of them — the most despised, the easiest target for Cazador’s wrath. He endured the harshest punishments, the ones designed to break a person from the inside out. The humiliation was relentless, stripping him of every ounce of dignity. But then, after Amanita — Cazador's favourite — disappeared, something shifted. He couldn’t say why, and the change unsettled him. Suddenly, he wasn’t the lowest anymore. The punishments didn’t lessen, but the hate felt… different. He knew that being the new ‘favoured’ Duskborn was a double-edged sword. Yes, it gave him a slight edge over the others, a fleeting sense of superiority — but it also meant he bore the brunt of Cazador’s cruelty. The expectations were higher, and the leash tighter. Every task, even one as menial as tonight’s errand, was both a privilege and a punishment, a reminder that his ‘favour’ came with a price. It was freedom in the smallest of doses, a bitter taste of what he could never truly have.

Astarion let out a breath he didn't need and straightened his coat again, more out of habit than necessity. The night was his. And if he had to endure a chore or two, so be it. After all, freedom — even in the smallest doses — was something he’d learned to savor.

He paused at the gates of the Toreador Primogen’s haven, a stark contrast to the crumbling slums he had just passed through. Mizora’s estate was nestled deep in the Upper City, a gated sanctuary for the elite, where the streets were spotless and even the air seemed fresher. The mansions here, including hers, were grand and flawless — a world apart from the decay of the Szarr mansion, which stood ironically at the very edge, straddling the line between wealth and ruin, separating the opulence of the Upper City from the slums below.

Mizora. Her name tasted bitter, like poison on his tongue. He would never forget that she had been the one leading the charge, advocating for the eradication of all Duskborn in the city. A Toreador more obsessed with ancient tomes and occult rituals than with the shallow vanity most of her clan indulged in. Her library was legendary, even Tremere scholars whispered about it with envy. If Cazador had sent him here, whatever book he sought had to be important.

The task was simple: retrieve a book. Cazador hadn’t bothered to explain its significance, and Astarion hadn’t asked. He didn’t care. Whatever dark magic his sire was dabbling in, it wasn’t his concern — as long as he could avoid becoming a part of it. He was here to do the job, nothing more.

As the door creaked open, Astarion fully expected a servant to greet him. Instead, it was Mizora’s childer who appeared, Wyll Ravengard. Astarion’s lips twitched into a polite smile, masking his surprise.

Wyll stood in the doorway, tall and effortlessly graceful, his dreadlocks tied back loosely, with a few strands framing his striking features. His skin practically glowed with the Blush of Life he always maintained, even when there were no mortals around. His physique, smooth and flawless, as if sculpted by an artist’s hand, was balanced between strength and elegance — Astarion had always been almost painfully aware of it. 

“Ah, Astarion, good evening. You were expected,” Wyll said, his voice warm and polite, his words laced with a warmness that contrasted sharply with how Duskborns were normally greeted in this city. He stepped aside, gesturing for Astarion to enter. “My sire isn’t home at the moment, but she’s left everything in order for you.”

Wyll’s charm was almost disarming, and as he welcomed Astarion into the mansion, it was clear this hospitality wasn’t an act. “Please, come in and make yourself comfortable in the lounge. I’ll gather what you’ve come for.”

Astarion gave a small nod, hiding his unease behind a faint smile. He stepped inside, following Wyll through the polished floors and lavish décor. The young Toreador moved like he knew exactly how attractive he was, but there was no arrogance in it. It was so blatantly obvious why Mizora Embraced him, the little Mr. Perfect. 

Astarion desired him. Astarion desired to be him. 

Astarion hated him.

Wyll led the way toward the lounge, trying to make a small talk about how busy his sire was lately, but Astarion wasn't interested, answering the banter with curt nods and practically monossilabic affirmations.

Astarion settled into the lounge, his eyes wandering over the room's modern, clean furnishings. The faint smell of smoke lingered in the air, and his gaze drifted to the unlit fireplace. The logs inside were only half-burnt, the embers smoldering softly as if the fire had been extinguished in a hurry. Ash clung to the edges of the hearth, scattered across the floor as though someone had stamped it out hastily.

Curious, he noticed a few scraps of burnt paper near the fireplace. He crouched down, picking one up between his fingers, examining the charred edges. It seemed to be part of a letter. Most of the writing was unreadable, but a few words caught his eye—"sire," "investigate," and "rewarded."

Astarion raised a brow, piecing together what little he could from the fragmented words. It seemed Wyll had received a proposition, and it probably involved investigating his own sire. Astarion's lips curled into a wicked smile. Oh, this was too delicious. He stood, the paper still between his fingers, his eyes gleaming with devilish delight.

The Toreador’s perfect façade wasn’t so flawless after all, it seemed. And now Astarion had something far more valuable than whatever menial task Cazador had sent him for — leverage.

"Well, well, Wyll," he murmured to himself, a twisted satisfaction creeping into his voice. "It seems you’re not as obedient as you appear. How… delightful."

He tucked the burnt scrap into his coat, his grin widening. This little secret could be the key to bending the ever-polite childer to his will if needed. Blackmail was always a game he enjoyed playing, especially when the stakes were so personal.

Wyll came back, every movement as smooth and poised as a courtier, yet as he entered the lounge, his steps faltered ever so slightly. Astarion stood by the fireplace, one hand resting on the mantel, his gaze too casual, too knowing.

For a brief moment, Wyll’s expression shifted — his uneven eyes flickering to the half-burnt logs and the scattered ash before darting back to Astarion. The unease was barely there, a slight tightening of his jaw, the faintest twitch of his brow. But just as quickly, he composed himself, his face smoothing back into that polite mask he wore so well.

“Astarion,” Wyll greeted, his voice as warm as ever, though a subtle tension lingered beneath it. “I’ve retrieved the book you came for.”

He held it out with both hands, but his gaze lingered on Astarion a moment longer, betraying a flicker of suspicion as the Duskborn reached out, his fingers brushing the leather-bound cover of the book with a deliberate slowness, savoring the moment. His lips curled into a sly grin as he took it from Wyll, practically reveling in the tension radiating off the Toreador.

“Thank you, Wyll,” Astarion purred, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. He tilted his head, amusement dancing in his eyes as he added, “Tell me — how long have you been plotting against your sire?”

The look on Wyll’s face was priceless. His carefully composed mask didn’t crack completely, but Astarion saw the brief widening of his eyes, the way his grip tightened ever so slightly at his sides. For a split second, there was real panic there — then it was gone, replaced by a calm, practiced smile.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Wyll replied, his tone as steady and polite as ever, but Astarion could hear the faint edge beneath it.

Astarion let out a soft, mocking laugh, leaning in just a little closer, thoroughly enjoying himself. “Oh, darling, no need to play coy. I know a secret when I see one.” He tapped the spine of the book with a single finger.

Astarion turned to leave, the book tucked neatly under his arm, and threw a parting glance over his shoulder, his voice dripping with playful malice. "Don't worry, Wyll, I'll keep quiet… for a price."

He barely made it halfway to the door before Wyll was suddenly in front of him, moving with supernatural speed that caught Astarion completely off guard. One moment he was across the room, the next he was standing mere inches away, his previously composed expression twisted into something darker, less controlled.

“Careful, thin-blood,” Wyll hissed, his voice low, dangerous. “You don’t want to tread this path.”

Astarion’s eyes widened for a heartbeat, alarmed by the sheer suddenness of Wyll’s shift in demeanor. His mind raced, but he quickly reminded himself that Wyll wouldn’t dare strike him. Not here, not now. It would be too suspicious, and even Mizora’s childer wouldn’t risk unnecessary tension between the Camarilla and the Hecata. No, Wyll couldn’t touch him — at least, not physically.

Astarion raised his hands slowly in a mock gesture of surrender, the sly grin returning to his face as he masked his brief moment of panic with his usual nastiness. “Easy now,” he drawled, “I didn’t say that to rat you out.” He paused, his grin widening. “I mean, that would be terribly… inconvenient.”

It was a lie, of course. He had fully intended to blackmail Wyll, but now a new idea wormed its way into his mind. One that might just be more interesting than the first.

“Actually,” Astarion mused, tapping a finger against his chin thoughtfully, “perhaps we could help each other instead.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I want the same thing. Perhaps we could work together… in getting rid of our sires, hm?”

He could see the flicker of uncertainty in Wyll’s eyes, and Astarion's grin widened further. Wyll’s eyes narrowed, studying Astarion for a long, tense moment. Astarion could see the calculation flickering behind that perfectly composed face, the uncertainty hidden beneath layers of Toreador poise. For all his outward grace, Wyll was clearly rattled. His shoulders, usually so relaxed and regal, now held a subtle tension.

“This… is a dangerous game,” Wyll finally said, his voice measured, evasive. He wasn’t giving Astarion anything, not yet.

Astarion’s smile didn’t waver, but inside he felt a flicker of frustration. Of course, Wyll wouldn’t jump at the chance to join forces. He was too cautious for that, too concerned with appearances. But the fact that he hadn’t outright dismissed the offer was telling. There was something there — something Astarion could work with.

Still, it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

"Well, I do like a dangerous game," Astarion replied, his voice light, teasing. "Keeps things interesting, don’t you think?" He tilted his head, watching Wyll closely, trying to gauge whether he was leaning toward caution or intrigue.

Wyll’s face gave little away, but the tension in the air was palpable. He was weighing his options, and Astarion could see the doubt flickering in his eyes, as if he was unsure whether to push Astarion away or pull him into the fold.

Astarion wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily. "Think about it," he said, his tone almost coaxing now. "We both have something to gain, and our sires have far too much control over us, don’t they?" He leaned in just a fraction, his grin widening. "You know as well as I do that power is best kept in your own hands."

Wyll’s gaze flickered, just for a second. There was something there — an opening, however small. Astarion’s smile sharpened. He’d planted the seed. Now all he had to do was wait for it to grow.

Wyll’s eyes narrowed again, and the corners of his mouth lifted in a slight, knowing smile. "It's a bold statement coming from a Duskborn," he said, the words soft but pointed, as if to remind Astarion exactly where he stood in the grand hierarchy of things.

Astarion’s grin froze, fury boiling just beneath the surface. The audacity of it — being looked down on by someone like Wyll, a Diva's lapdog. But Astarion said nothing, forcing the biting retort back down his throat. Wyll didn’t wait for a reply, his expression remaining as poised as ever. "There's a Sabbat envoy named Karlach," he continued smoothly. "Give me her location. Prove you're capable, and perhaps we can discuss working together."

Astarion felt his fists clench at his sides, anger bubbling to the surface. His eyes flared as he snapped, "I was offering you an alliance, Wyll, not volunteering to be your errand boy. If you think I’m going to run around the city at your beck and call, I might as well give your sire what I've found—"

Wyll cut him off with a scoff, his smile now entirely condescending. "And if you think Mizora would believe you over me... well, you're more deluded than I thought." He crossed his arms, his stance firm. "But if you’re so eager to work with me, then these are my terms. Find Karlach."

Astarion’s jaw tightened, his mind racing. Wyll had him backed into a corner, and as much as he hated it, he knew the Toreador had a point. Mizora wouldn’t take a Duskborn’s word over her own childer’s. Even with a proof that Wyll could dismiss as a refused proposition. Astarion berated himself inwardly for his own recklessness — fortune not always favoured the bold, as it seems.

But he needed this. Needed a way out of Cazador’s grip, and if Wyll was the key to that… well, he would play along. For now.

"Fine," Astarion finally spat, his voice tight with barely contained fury. "I’ll find your Karlach. But this had better be worth it."

Part 2