#seraph being an icy king

[kingofangst]

Season 1 Teen Wolf character opinions on Seraph (My OC)

*Seraph posing as an interviewer and inhibiting his scent for supernatural purposes*

Okay, let us start with the process, shall we? What are your thoughts on Beacon Hills High's enigmatic ice king?

Scott: I don't think he's an icy person by default. He looks closed off, but he seems cool. Very intelligent though

Allison: Lydia says he's her rival? But I'm pretty sure there's more to him than looks

Stiles: Entitled, conceited, rich guy with his dark academia and bourgeoisie attitude. Literally, who names their child Seraph?

Seraph: *Lowkey bombastic side eye*

Lydia: My academic rival, though I respect his tenacity and intelligence

Seraph: *Secretly smirking*

Jackson: Why are you so interested? Asshole and an entitled tool who thinks Hondas are better than Porsche😑

Seraph: (Internally) They are, lacrosse fanatic

Isaac (in my fanfic he is in season 1): Ex-loyal friend and confidant. Until he thought he was better than me😒

Seraph: (Internally sighs with melancholy)

Danny: I have no problems with him. He's an enigma and I think people should respect his choices

Mr. Harris: One of my favorite students. In fact, him and Jackson are the top two.

Seraph: (Internally) Careful Harris, you start a war amongst your students. Then again why would you care?

Coach Finstock: If I could only teach one student for the next 4 years, it'd be Seraph

Seraph: (Internally) That’s horrific👀

Melissa: He doesn't look like an icy teenager to me. More like academically ambitious

Sheriff Stilinski: Hard to say he's an enigmatic ice king or whatever you called him when his father is Beacon Hills best politician. He seems nice

This concludes the interview of what is said about Seraph Kingfisher. Thank you all for your participation.

Jackson: What? Now you are going to tell him what we said about him?

Seraph the Interviewer: No that is confidential and I won't share it to anyone. *Internally* Because I already heard, moron.

And that's all folks! As for why the Hales and the Argents weren't in this is because Seraph has yet to meet them. But stay tuned for chapter 4 of TWOAE, I will be posting it Saturday.

[kingofangst]

50 questions about my OC: Seraph Kingfisher Edition

1. Seraph is 16 years old. He looks mature for his age than a regular 16 year-old.

2. He is male

3. His sexual orientation is bisexual, as he feels the traditional norms of society does not apply to him.

4. 6'0 feet 1/2

5. He has black straight hair that is short and covers one of his eyes if he doesn't style it, with gray eyes. Although they can change another color if he activates his supernatural state.

6. His gray eyes, his sophisticated sense of fashion, his cold facial expression

7. His name Seraph refers to the highest-ranking celestial beings in the hierarchy of angels. It has many different but similar interpretations in different cultures.

8. Seraph is the oldest child of Azrael and Elizabeth Kingfisher, has a younger sister named Celes, has an uncle and aunt with three older cousins, and his grandmother.

9. He does, a close and methodical relationship with them. (Although him and his younger sister love to bicker over mundane matters).

10. Has a good relationship with his family.

11. Seraph lives in Beacon Hills, California in his family's estate.

12. Beacon Hills is safe to those with a human eye. In Seraph’s case, it's not safe but it is his family's stomping grounds.

13. Seraph is wealthy. His family are old-money.

14. At this time he doesn't look up to anyone. Being a rare kind of supernatural has it's pros and cons.

15. Redacted - Seraph had best friends. They were Isaac Lahey and Matt Daehler.

16. Well, Seraph has enemies but no one dares to square up on him since he is known as the "Ice King Of Beacon Hills High." Unless they want to be verbally destroyed, they best not cross him.

17. The monster that murdered his grandfather👀👀

18. Seraph has a respectful academic rivalry with Lydia Martin. He is cordial with Danny, and is frenemies with Celes and Jackson.

19. No, he has never fallen in love. He has gotten a few confession letters in middle school but wasn't interested.

20. Wow that is a good question. To prevent spoilers, he loves his family (even the annoying sister Celes).

21. His family loves him back very much.

22. Yes. He hurt his best friends by shutting them out...and he lost his grandfather (these two are related hence how he ends up closing his best friends out when his grandfather was murdered).

23. At this time, no. He'd feel very awkward.

24. More like well-feared due to his icy personality. But he isn't actively scaring his classmates, it's more of if they cross him in anyway, he will end their whole career and image.

25. He isn't used to compliments, so this would be shocking to him when he receives them.

26. No he is not an affectionate person🤣

27. He is academically driven and focused on his results and work ethic.

28. He doesn't like politics so he is apolitical. He is tolerating that his father is a high ranking member of the city council.

29. It is a rough divide between humanity and supernatural entities in this society. He lives in a town that is a supernatural phenomenon only known by the supernatural and hunters.

30. Well, there are different werewolf packs, hunting families (Argents and Calaveras) and then there's the law enforcement of Beacon Hills and political side of it. So it is quite chaotic if people are able to see it. And then there's the Nemeton...

31. Seraph knows his place in society and doesn't need to prove himself. But how long will he remain in place is the bigger question.

32. He would go back in time to not shut out and cut ties with his best friends...maybe it would have reversed several things.

33. I guess you'll have to find out as you read more of him...

34. Despite his coldness and pragmatic nature, he is a very good person more than he let's on.

35. Forgiving is not in his vocabulary.

36. Destiny and Seraph are two parallel lines😅

37. While he is capable of being trusted, he doesn't trust others. Trust is a double-edged sword for him.

38. While he doesn't like lying, he can be good at it. But why lie when the truth sets one free. He is brutally honest

39. Oh he can take criticism, the question is can the person who is criticizing him withstand his own criticism on them?

40. He's Lawful Neutral, as he doesn't want to involve himself in either side. But he will defend oneself it is for the greater good.

41. Don't let his quiet and polished demeanor fool you. His bite is as vicious as his bark. He is a formidable fighter.

42. No, he doesn't and while he did hurt Isaac and Matt, it wasn't intentional because he didn't know how to approach it.

43. He never has been injured. Plus even if he gets injured, he'd heal instantly.

44. While he has a supernatural healing factor, he knows first-aid like the back of his mind since his aunt is a Chief Medical Officer and Physician.

45. He can adapt to any changes in an environment, should society ever fall or become fractured.

46. He has a 180 IQ, so he is very advanced and can pick up quickly.

47. As stated, he has a 180 IQ.

48. A normal American high school system, while humans remain unaware of supernatural presence.

49. He is currently a student, but he is aiming to be a Life Producer and Insurance consultant

50. While. He enjoys being a student, he doesn't enjoy the constant heinous people in school or in Beacon Hills.

50 Questions about your OC

How old are they?

What gender are they?

What is their romantic/sexual orientation?

How tall are they?

What do they look like? 

What are their defining features?

Does their name have a meaning?

What family do they have?

Do they have a good relationship with their family?

If not, why not?

Where do they live? 

Is it a safe place?

Are they poor, middle-class or wealthy?

Do they look up to anyone?

Who is their best friend?

Do they have any enemies?

Who is the person they hate most in the world?

Do they have any love/hate relationships?

Have they ever fallen in love?

Who is the person they love the most in the world?

Does that person love them back?

Have they ever hurt or lost anyone?

Are they a good shoulder to cry on?

Are they well liked?

How do they handle being complimented? 

Are they an affectionate person?

Are they very driven?

Are they very political?

What kind of state is the world that they live in?

What are the world leaders like?

Does the character worry about their place in society?

If the could change one thing, what would it be?

Do they like themselves?

Are they a good person?

Are they very forgiving?

Do they believe in destiny?

Are they trustworthy? 

Are they a good liar?

How do they react to criticism? 

What is their moral alignment?

Can they fight?

Would they ever purposefully hurt someone?

Have they ever been seriously injured?

Do they know first aid?

Do they have any other survival skills?

Are they a fast learner?

How intelligent are they?

What is the school system like?

What is their job?

Do they enjoy their job?

[valacre]

𝔅𝔢𝔶𝔬𝔫𝔡 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔊𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔒𝔣 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔐𝔬𝔬𝔫

You remembered the day you saw him, the way your heart had stopped and how your breath halted within your chest. An unmistakable sight that had been so beautiful, tears had sprung to your eyes as you’d stared; mesmerized.

Nightmare, self proclaimed King over the multiverse, was the most divine, exquisite, and terribly formidable being you had ever seen. The raw beauty of him as he’d pinned you to the ground with just a mere glance in your general direction.

The moonlight framed him, icy, and cold light illuminating his blackened form and casting a seraphic glow; making him truly appear as the God he claimed to be. Tentacles curled and swung in lazy, bored gestures, displaying a clear sense of calm and authority. And that one, piercing eyelight which reflected the chill of the moon, held you in its grasp.

He spoke to you in a voice so clear, so ethereally saccharine and deep, it reverberated through you and made your knees buckle, and yet you did not fall… until he smiled, and all sense of life and willpower escaped you as the ground met with your back.

You’d give your soul to him. You’d do everything just for another minute to admire him; to take him in and burn his visage into your memory.

You’d gladly give up all of heaven, just for another chance to have him in your tiny, human existence.

♡+｡.｡+♡+｡.｡+♡

Thank you for inspiring me with your latest Nightmare post, @abbyflowertale. My brain has succumbed to the divine vision of Nightmare appearing as a deity like creature, otherworldly beautiful, and terribly dangerous.

[twilightichor]

Avoidance of truths hardly differ from waiting for an apocalypse to happen by the hand of a meteorite. Its fall is absolute, only time to dictate when the celestial body will collapse against the nascent star. When sapphires meet emerald-vermilions this time, there is no more escaping despite the blow such well-placed words suppose to the seraph's weary heart. Thus his weight is pushed with trembling arms into a sitting position, hands come to rest atop his covered lap.

❝Correct. Many Khaenri'ahn citizens were engulfed in void's delirium as the last king was.❞ Millennia after millennia isolated from the rest of human activity of this star, pushed into a dark corner where no fauna or flora existed until the miraculous Art of Khemia was honed and innovated for centuries to come, abyssal presence... they have done worse than benefitted their people. ❝The regent and I shared a wish, to restore the wounded kingdom that the last king harmed so with his ravings. Alas...❞ Albescent lashes flutter to a momentary, tight close. ❝If you think you can undo the harm done to a reign that lasted for millennia, you might as well believe that you reached the height of folly.❞

Namely him, too. Sentiments and thoughts from the regent were well-placed, alas... how good would it be if the problems of this world could be fixed with good intentions.

❝One may think that after such a catastrophe, there would be nary a survival hailing from that kingdom. While that line of thinking may be true... it has nuances.❞ Moon-kissed lashes open to reveal icy sapphires, reluctant to look into emerald depths. ❝This divine curse brands all of us with the identity of Khaenri'ah with the same effects, however the timing of these and the resistance each individual has vary and so does the way it... transforms them.❞

Silence ensues his words, weighing down on Dáinsleif's shoulders in preparation for an even cruder revelation to be made— source of most of his anxieties and sorrows to this day. ❝Running the risk to fall into exceptions, it would be a good assessment to confirm that the population faction that follow King Irmin's delirium have now become what they proclaimed themselves as... Abyss Order. All ill thoughts to engulf everything in darkness, the seven nations of Teyvat for the sole reason of standing under an Archon's watch... they are unhinged now and will seek to do everything that fits with their ideals unrestricted.❞

As for what has happened during his journey, exactly...

Roseate lips part to heave another shaky exhale, azure irises drop to his lap where balling hands into fists rest. ❝I... cannot permit them to harm innocent people that are already suffering the consequences of their deeds with the Black Cataclysm alone. Divine's wrath took away the lives of innocent and guilty alike without distinction and cursed many others that just wanted to leave a peaceful life without harming anyone while others did. In opposing the Abyss Order, I... am opposing those whom I protected once as the Twilight Sword of Khaenri'ah.❞

That's why I— am no longer the same man. I became despicable, nothing short of a traitor as they call me.

Nevertheless, Dáinsleif dares not to mutter such words— believing that his explanation is sufficiently clear to warrant his claim that he ceased being the man al-Háitham knew.

Before him was a man he had known as being rational and logical, no-nonsensical and down to earth. Al-Háitham enjoyed dearly their conversations that nurtured his innate want for knowledge when he was in Khaenri'ah and through their multiple-conversational letters, and he had grown to admire Dáinsleif for that. Now, he watched him and listened to him and it was hard to let him see in a gentle manner that he had the answer right there. That if he was not so broken, he would know what to do.

If he was not so broken, of course.

Having not been broken to this extent in the past, al-Háitham had a hard time to understand why the royal knight... former, would feel so, but he sat and listened nonetheless. How could you face the gods on your own? He wanted to ask, he wished he knew that answer and he hoped that it was the guilt talking and not what he really thought. The mention of a curse made him straighten on his seat, regardless. Just imagining it curled the hair of the nape of his head more and a tingling sensation ran all over his body until more details were given about it.

Denial to pass away... that was certainly a cruel punishment for a man he was sure that did nothing wrong to be glared upon as no more than a sinner on the same scale as others. And that was what made the Grand Scribe frown and curl his fingers inside the palm of his hand. "Reasons they had aside to obliterate an entire nation, you already knew, didn't you? That things weren't as they should be with part of population." He had the need to remind him gently. In his time spent there, al-Háitham had noticed and suffered it on his own skin. Not that reminding him so were the point. "You took measures to protect me beyond your scope for that reason."

Beyond his lack of understanding of how badly can a turmoil of emotions break a man to the point of irrationality, al-Háitham hurt for him. His heart was bleeding for him and weeping each time the merciless hammer of powerlessness hit him in the head, reminding him that there was nothing he could do for him. But at least, he wanted to try.

"About "them" which I presume must be Khaenri'ahn survivors... is there a reason beyond your inability to protect them from the gods to make you a traitor, I take it?" Now, that was baffling to hear. One would think that they would be understanding in the fact that he could never hope to be match to one god alone, let alone six of them if not more and he knew that Dáinsleif didn't think himself as high— even as hurt as he was, he wasn't as irrational. "Unless..." To his knowledge, it's been a couple of years since the kingdom of darkness' fall, so it must've been as long since the Bough Keeper was wandering about.

"...Dáinsleif. What happened in your journey until you came here?"

[webcricket]

The Truth is Out There [on Netflix]

Characters: CastielXReader ft. Sam and Dean Winchester, Crowley

Word Count: 1600

A/N: One-shot written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing Kari’s Favorite Things Challenge with prompt – The X-Files. Castiel searches for the truth of the human condition on Netflix…with a little help from his friends and a pair of fictional FBI agents who exemplify something it turns out he very much wants to believe. Off-beat humor and saccharine fluff.

The fateful day Sam instructed Castiel how to go about accessing Netflix was the day life in the bunker irrevocably changed. When not assisting with a case, the angel could reliably be found in his room binge watching yet another series, or two. You often tarried at the threshold of his ajar door on the way to bed to appreciate the television illuminated enraptured dopey smile glowing upon his normally austere features.  Frequently you surrendered to the temptation to join him, swiftly drifting to sleep listening not to the television, but to his gentle laughter. He didn’t seem to mind the company, regularly and uncomplainingly obliging the use of his shoulder as a makeshift pillow when your drowsy head rolled sideways. Generally speaking, you were happy he found something to distract him from his myriad of woes and fill his long no-sleep-required angelic nights, not to mention the perfect pretext to spend more downtime with him without drawing unwanted notice and subsequent teasing from Sam and Dean.

The angel’s initial viewing preferences mostly leaned toward comedic sitcoms and classic slap-stick thanks to Dean’s belief that Cas needed to lighten up and a worldly anecdote about laughter being the best medicine. Innocent enough suggestions until Cas spent an entire week indicating every instance wherein a laugh track insertion would be appropriate in daily life. He even downloaded an app on his phone to further illustrate the point. Dean, the recipient of the lion’s share of this attention, was not amused. The last straw came when Cas stood by during a tense alleyway confrontation with their on-again off-again ally Crowley, pointing out with a gravelly there, there, and there again whenever the King of Hell made a particularly witty retort. Grasping his friend very firmly by the shoulder, Dean informed Cas, in no uncertain terms lest the angel not understand, exactly where he could hilariously shove his proverbial laugh track. Crowley never before, or again, regarded his angelic counterpart with such high esteem as he did during that meeting.

Sam had the brilliant idea of filling the angel’s watch queue to the brim with documentaries. Castiel, already a walking celestial encyclopedia of all-encompassing universal knowledge, day-by-day became swayed by one extreme opinion after another. First, it was the evils of sugar. The angel took it upon himself one evening to smite every last granule of the substance from the kitchen while you all slept, blissfully unaware there would be no morning breakfast cereal when you awoke or sweet crystalline delight to dump into your bitter coffee. You habituated to hiding in the bathroom with the shower running to mask the sound of contented chewing to enjoy your favorite cookies free from the angel’s icy blue disapproving glare. Dean began keeping pie in the Impala’s glovebox, by happy accident discovering apple pie stored in a car sitting in direct afternoon sun was nearly as delicious as one pulled piping hot from the oven. Sam walked around with a smug grin for a whole week, soaring mood squelched only when Cas sternly questioned him about the provenance of his salad greens. Were they genetically modified? Was he aware of the pesticides used in their production and their impact on the drastically dwindling bee population? The land destroyed in the manufacture of the palm oil listed as the fifth ingredient in his favored salad dressing? Was that salmon topping his heaping bowl of wrongs wild caught, or farmed?

Amidst threats by the thoroughly vexed parent-figure Winchesters to cancel Netflix altogether and a sulking Castiel dejectedly retreating to his room like a grounded teenager, you interceded, promising the brothers you would find something totally innocuous for the angel to watch. You weren’t giving up your late night snuggle fests, that conveniently no one thus far had identified as snuggling, without a fight. Netflix received a temporary stay of execution. Stifling a victorious squeal, cloaked in a mask of utter calm, you slunk from the library to apprise Cas of the good news, pace quickening to an enthusiastic scamper when you rounded the corner out of the brothers’ sight. Neither Sam nor Dean were fooled by the feigned disinterest of your demeanor – your amorous interest in the angel practically a flashing neon sign to everyone but the aforementioned oblivious angel. They exchanged a knowing glance, punctuated by Dean’s signature smirk and Sam’s husky laughter – the socially stumbling stoical seraph was your problem now.

“There is no such thing as little green men,” Cas said, narrowing his ocean blue eyes. Nearly five seasons into a marathon viewing of The X-Files, and the angel couldn’t get past the alien mythology behind the show.

As far as you were concerned, he was missing the whole point. “Ugh,” you grunted. Sat cross-legged side-by-side with the angel on the floor at the end of the bed, you flopped against the edge of the mattress, “you do realize you sound exactly like Dana Scully. How can you be so certain, oh skeptical one?”

“Because, there is no such creature in creation,” he stated matter-of-factly, expression earnest as he peered into your exasperated aspect, “I was there almost at the dawn, and I am fairly certain God didn’t create little green men before he created angels.”

“It’s a fictional world Cas,” you lamented, “it’s not about the aliens. Ever hear of suspension of disbelief for entertainment’s sake? Mulder wants desperately to believe there is a tangible explanation for his missing sister. It’s the great unknown of his life. Speculating gives him hope, something to hold on to, to chase. He’s broken, he has made mistakes, he’s doing the best he can in an imperfect world.” You realized after the last word lilted off your tongue that perhaps Mulder’s plight might hit a bit close to home for the angel.

“I understand,” Cas murmured, bobbing his scruffy chin thoughtfully, “then you value this show not for the accurateness of its subject matter, but for its depiction of the primary characters.”

“Yes, exactly!” you beamed. “And, you know, the complexity of their relationship.”

Cas squinted, his bewilderment palpably hanging in the air between you.

You suggestively waggled your eyebrows, “You know…the tension.”

“Ah,” Cas nodded comprehension, “you mean their continually dissenting opinions.”

“No Cas,” you shook your head, “I mean the sexual tension. Mulder and Scully are madly in love.”

The angel could not have appeared more gob-smacked than if you’d suddenly sprouted an additional big blinking eye in the center of your forehead.

“Look,” you snatched the remote, “I’ll just find a program more in your wheelhouse.” Clearly enjoying fantastic multi-layered character-driven sci-fi drama was off the scale of the angel’s emotional barometer and reading between the lines was not a skill he possessed with any degree of fluency. Maybe something in the realm of mystery like Murder She Wrote was a better option? Maybe a procedural cop drama a la N.Y.P.D. Blue?

Cas’ rough palm clasped over yours to prevent you from turning the episode off. “Please,” he entreated when you met his searching sapphire regard, “explain it to me. I want to understand.”

“O-okay,” you stuttered, focus dropping to his hand still holding yours.

He sheepishly withdrew the interloping appendage to rest in his lap.

“Um, it’s, uh,” you gaped, endeavoring to rally your thoughts beyond the lingering warmth of his touch tingling your fingers.

“I recognize they deeply respect one another,” the angel offered.

You nodded.

“And they would do anything to help one another,” he continued.

You kept nodding.

“And they make great personal and professional sacrifices to remain together as partners,” the tone of his voice rose, suggesting the waters of his perception here became muddied.

You looked to be exuberantly auditioning for the part of a life-sized bobble-head figurine.

“Yet they seem to me to be no more than friends,” he sighed, slouching against the bed in defeat of his own reasoning.

You reigned in your wildly bobbing noodle to articulate a reply, “For a long time they value their friendship too much to risk complicating it, but that doesn’t mean they love each other any less fiercely.”

“For a long time?” Cas lifted a brow askance.

“Spoiler warning,” you cautioned, “their relationship does become romantic, but as it turns out they were always much better friends. They each have a lot of baggage,” you paused, remembering to clarify so the angel didn’t think you were talking about literal luggage, “I mean, they bring a lot of pained history to the relationship, and it ultimately prevents them from being together that way.”

“And do they regret complicating their friendship with…with this romance?” Cas stared intently at you – oddly eager, in your estimation, for your answer.

You deliberated on your interpretation for a moment, taking into account the movies and the revival season in your verdict, “The way I see it?”

Cas nodded once, blue eyes glinting beneath an increasingly concentrated brow.

“No.”

Features relaxing, he sucked in a relieved, and for an angel, completely unnecessary breath.

“Why do you ask?” you motioned to set the remote on the floor between your bodies.

Cas caught up your hand in his again as you let the remote drop. Twining his fingers through yours, he waited for you to meet his openly adoring gaze before answering, “Because now seems like an appropriate time to tell you I value our friendship…very much.”

“I value our…oh,” your tongue seized, brain playing catch-up to the tender but insistent squeeze of his fingers. “Fiercely?” you whispered, agog.

“Fiercely,” he acknowledged. A soft smile curving his lips, he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your astonished mouth.