OH Oh God No

OH Oh God no

✨️THANK YOU ARCANA ✨️

This is the first in a series of Creator Spotlights showcasing the incredible creativity of this community!

✨ Wedding Tale by Asrabounding ✨

Set after Muriel’s upright ending, it’s a very important day: Julian and Asra are getting married! Choose which you’ll follow through their wedding preparations, and see a beautiful custom illustrated CG! Asra/Julian shippers, you can play this tale now on the Dorian platform!

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✨ Create your own tales with official Arcana art by using Templates!

"Morning, captain"

Just pictured a younger Asra, waking up with the first rays of sunshine in Nopal. His bed feels warm, warmer than usually, his messy locks fall on his eyes. There's some other breathing behind him.

He turns around, discovering Julian sleeping on his back, shirtless, and his neck covered in love bites. Asra giggles, looking at himself. He's wearing Ilya's white shirt. Do i have hickeys, too? Asks himself, taking a hand to his neck. Probably.

The magician puts himself up to sit on top of him. The older one lets a little grunt come out of his throat as he feels Asra's warm hands caress his bare chest. I think he likes it. Julian's eyes open slowly, as they meet the purple ones. He smiles back, stretching, with a hand on his lover's tigh to tell him not to move. Ilya smiles at the skin of his lover reflecting the morning sun, and closes his eyes again for a moment after hearing:

"Good morning, captain"

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Writing this before entering to class, i just love them. I'm also working on your requests.

Stay safe!

p.s: i know my English is basic sorr jfbfjs

a vision hit my pupils and i had to create this.

YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME MAN 😭💔

Hector and Isaac reacting to their S/O’s death

(This is a long one, strap in folks!)

Hector:

It was just like any other evening. Hector was at the forge, sending the night creatures out the window one by one.

His S/O had left for the nearest village earlier in the day, and he was beginning to get antsy.

He decided to take a walk through the castle to clear his head.

He was meandering around the war hall when the door burst open, and in rode a vampire on his horse — the lookout.

He says a mob from the local village is approaching the castle.

Dracula’s troops stand guard at the door, ready to meet the attacking force. Hector hangs back, curious to see what’s going on.

In the distance, he could see them emerging from the surrounding darkness. The tiny flickers of red light from their torches grew stronger as the villagers marched closer.

Hector squinted to better see the mob. They were carrying something heavy.

He was shoved aside as the vampires surged forward to attack the villagers, who — despite their rage-powered determination — didn’t stand much of a chance.

Hector stumbled down the front steps just as the last few had fallen. During the fight, the attackers had set down that strange thing they were carrying.

Now he saw what it was. A wooden cross, staked to the ground, and tied to it was his lover.

His legs almost gave out from under him, but he caught himself.

“What are you doing?! They’re hurt, get them down from there!”

Isaac helped him cut the ropes with his dagger.

His S/O crumpled into his arms as they lowered them to the ground

He pleaded with them to wake up, and finally, their eyelids lifted under the dirt that was caked into their eyelashes

“I’m sorry… Hector, I just — eugh, wanted to h-help… They knew I c-came from the castle…”

Their eyes closed again, and their head lolled to the side.

He screamed, burying his face in their blood-soaked shirt, searching for a heartbeat, a sign — anything. But it was too late.

He buried them next to the woods by the castle, the grave marker he adorned with flowers.

Everyday after that he’d visit, leaving gifts and bringing some of his pets. He knows his S/O would love their company.

It was late one night when he was plagued with loneliness when he ventured out to the grave.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was digging up the body and carrying it to the forge.

He thought that maybe, he could bring them back to life as he does with animals.

The blue light hovered over the corpse, transforming it. Hector stopped when he saw how his lover’s limbs were twisted, teeth and horns formed on their face.

Hector realized they’d end up just like any other night creature, and he couldn’t stand that.

He put them back in the ground, and retreated into the castle.

Isaac:

Isaac had been looking after his S/O for a while. They were very sick and not getting much better.

It was one of those days where they were stuck in bed, and Isaac decided to stay with them.

He had turned away to get a new washcloth for their forehead, dipping it in cold water.

There was a cough, “Isaac, I just wanted to say that—“ Another cough, “I love you.”

“Don’t say that,” He replied, wringing out the cloth, “You’re not on your deathbed, not yet.”

It was a few days later, when he’d gotten busy with work that one of the guards came to deliver a message.

He was rushed into his S/O’s room, where he found them laying unmoving and deathly pale on the thin mattress.

He made no movement towards the bed. Only once the guards had left did he cradle his lover’s body close, pressing his forehead against theirs.

His S/O’s body was ceremoniously cremated, and their ashes were kept on a table in Isaac’s room; in a simple urn.

He went about his business as usual, but he never looked at the urn. Not once.

“You’re quite good at hiding your grief, you know,” Dracula said to him one night in his study, “But you don’t have to. I know how much you loved them.”

There was a pause, “There is no such thing as love in this world,” Isaac began to walk towards the door. “Oh, but there is, Isaac. It is just ripped away from you in the cruelest of ways… You and I both know that well.”

Isaac retreated to this room and the first thing he did was stand in front of the urn.

This was it. The person that his world revolved around… right here, in this clay jar.

He lifted the lid. They weren’t even a comprehensible being anymore. His lover had been here the whole time, watching him from this table; staring at him with eyes that didn’t exist anymore.

No matter what lies he kept telling himself, he did love them. He braced against the table as if the thoughts were weights pushing down on his head.

And Isaac cried.

(Your tears will only make me stronger)

- Mod Seraph

It all makes sense now

this is how angst writers look writing the most emotionally damaging shit you've seen in your life