There are six romance options available in Dark of Night; of the six, five have a gender that is up to player preference.
Aster (fey, gender customizable)
Mysterious and abrasive, you know little about them save for the sting of their sharp tongue and that they insist on disappearing into the woods every night. Wolves, witches, and other fey give Aster a wide berth, and you wonder sometimes if it has something to do with the way shadows seem to pool around them.
Amaranth (fey, gender customizable)
Decadent and dramatic, Amaranth spends their time (usually harmlessly) pranking tourists and locals alike. They’re notoriously fickle, and while their laughter comes easily, their carefree grin reminds you that their teeth are sharp and that roses in the wild are riddled with thorns.
Will Ventura (witch, gender customizable)
Steadfast and sensible, Will runs a psychic shop in town that they pass off as a tourist trap, but their tarot readings and crystal ball sessions are eerily accurate. Being able to read the future so well causes Will to keep to themself and hold tight to you and Remy, but even their cards can’t predict everything that’s coming.
Emoni Hill (witch, female)
Curious and clever, Emoni moved to Spellcaster a few years ago and the hybrid bookstore-tea shop she opened has been a hit since. During the day she sells tea, reads palms, and holds hokey seances, saving the conversations with real ghosts for after the tourists are gone and the shop is closed. Speaking with the dead can be useful, but it weighs on her.
Cam Maletta (werewolf, gender customizable)
Intense and impulsive, Cam blows into town soon after the game starts with nothing but the clothes on their back, a duffel bag, and a black cat cradled against their chest. From day one, rumors abound: They’re bad luck. Dangerous. Running from something.
Remy Wei (werewolf, gender customizable)
Earnest and energetic, Remy is part of the pack that calls Spellcaster and the forest surrounding it home. They know the area well, and put their skills to use as a hiking guide for hire. But grudges long held are a reminder that underneath Remy’s sunny smile lies a beast willing to do anything for their pack - and that, of course, includes you.
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"i love it when you laugh!" for merry please?? she's actually incredible 😤
It’s going to be a long morning.
You don’t know why you agreed to this. But you did, unfortunately.
You trudge along the beach behind Merry, who has all but run off down the shore.
She swears there’s something out here by the sea stacks. You weren’t really listening, to be honest, since you had just woken up and she managed to ambush you before you even got your coffee.
“Come to the sea stacks with me today. By the caves,” she had said, all but pinning you in the doorway. She had mentioned it before, when you first brought up the idea of stopping by the small town to restock. Some shit about an old Gaelish legend, or something. Merry probably just made it up, honestly.
But you agreed, mostly just to get her out of your face. Also, despite how miserable you feel at the moment, anything beats going to the market.
Merry turns around and waves for you to hurry up.
Sighing, you pull your cloak tighter around you and jog along the shore, your boots slapping against the wet sand.
Finally catching up to her, you peer out over the breaking waves, craning your neck to look up at the perilous sea stacks.
“What are we doing out here again?” you ask, blinking and looking back over at her.
“These caves. I want to see them,” she says. You wait, expecting for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t, just continuing on, leading you into the shadow of the cliffs. You shiver despite yourself. It’s not cold, necessarily, but the shade definitely cools it off, especially with the breeze coming off the water.
“Here, look,” Merry says, pointing up ahead. You can just see a slim opening in the cliff rock face. The waves just barely reach it, water stretching over the sand and dripping down into the crevice.
“Are you fucking with me right now?” you ask in disbelief. As you get closer to the opening, the size of it becomes quite apparent. “Merry, there is no way I can fit through that.”
Merry laughs. “Not with that attitude,” she says, flipping her hair over her shoulder. You both approach the opening, Merry reaching out and running her hands along the lip.
“It’s low tide right now,” Merry starts, peering into the cave. “We should have plenty of time to check things out.”
“I don’t like what you’re implying,” you say, raising an eyebrow at her. Just perfect. Spend all the effort to get out here just to drown in some stupid cave.
“What? You know how to swim,” Merry says, throwing her hands up as if you’re the one being unreasonable. You roll your eyes.
She takes a step towards you, smirking as you step back. But your boots splash into water, and you scowl as she steps forward again, your noses nearly touching.
“Scared?” she says, her breath tickling your lips.
You feel your face twitch, and you turn away, heat creeping up your neck as you swallow loudly.
“Just lead the way, Merry,” you say gruffly.
She laughs, backing off, letting you move out of the water. She turns back to the cave, and you watch as she slips through the opening with no effort at all.
Pursing your lips, you sidle up next to the crevice, going in sideways. You hold your breath as you force yourself through, clawing at the wet rocks to pull yourself along. Your fingers scramble for purchase, and then your feel a hand around your wrist, and you’re pulled the rest of the way through, nearly tumbling into Merry as the cave opens up around you.
Your breath is a bit frantic, but you school yourself, clearing your throat and looking around the cave. You and Merry stand side by side, and you realize after a moment she’s still holding your wrist. She seems to realize it, too, dropping your arm and moving farther into the cave without a word.
Merry walks over to one of the walls, running a hand over it. The light in the cave is limited to what can pass through the opening, so you raise your hand, igniting a small fire in your palm. You hold it out in front of you, and can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips as the small cave room is bathed in proper light.
All around you, on every wall, on the ceiling, are intricate drawings, beautiful looping designs, as well as paintings depicting what you recognize immediately to be selkies. Merry steps back from the wall, taking it all in.
One drawing in particular catches your attention. A selkie, returning to the sea, a woman on the shore on her knees, watching the selkie go. You brush your fingers over the hand drawn waves.
“How?” is all you manage to say.
“I thought you would know,” Merry says. Her voice is soft, not like you’ve ever heard before. You look over at her, her hair pure red in the light of the fire.
“I wanted to show you this. Something to connect you to us,” she says then.
“Us?” you ask.
“Gael.” She’s still looking at the drawings, not you.
You’re not sure what to say. You remember the stories, when you were a kid. How you all came walking out of the sea, born from crashing waves and sea foam. You hum, walking over to Merry.
“Was this for me or for you?” you prompt, watching her in your flickering firelight. Her hand still rests against the wall. She doesn’t say anything, just studying the art.
“Look,” she points to a spot low on the wall then. “That one looks just like you,” she says. You look over to see a very crudely, and unfortunately, quite ugly, fish drawn there.
“Gods,” you sigh loudly as Merry laughs, twirling away and heading back towards the entrance. You watch her go for a moment.
“Wait,” you say. She turns back, raising an eyebrow at you.
“This one totally looks like Lea,” you say, pointing to another nearby drawing, though this time it’s a bizarre looking bird with extremely long legs.
Merry bursts out laughing, jumping back over to you to get a better look at the drawing. She bumps your shoulder as she gets close, grinning at you. You laugh, too, bumping her back as your laughter echoes in the cave around you.
“I love it when you laugh,” Merry says then, still laughing herself, leaning into you.
The sudden sincerity catches you off guard, and you feel yourself blush, but you don’t pull away from her. You both just stand there together, looking up at the cave wall, your fire still illuminating the drawings.
You’re not sure how long you stay like that, but Merry finally pulls away.
“We should probably leave before it floods in here,” she says.
“Merry!” you curse her as she laughs again, all but skipping away. You chase her out of the cave, only to curse more as she has to help pull you free from the crevice, both of you laughing all the while.
cer!! draping a blanket for mal or raine if you're feeling up to it? either or is fine, i love them both but i imagine they don't take breaks often enough
Kind of mixed the two together a little here!! It also ran away from me a little and ended up around ~690 words even though I tried to give myself a time limit writing it which... didn’t work LMAO
Prompt answer under the cut. Enjoy!
The hunt hadn't finished until after dark. Not but an hour prior, you two had stumbled past the city's walls with your heart still pounding somewhere in your throat, weapons held in white-knuckled grips. There had been a creature right behind you, stopped barely in time by the barriers, but that — you draw a deep breath, grounding yourself — that is a problem for tomorrow.
For now, you're safe. You're still pacing, though, limbs shaky with fading adrenaline. It's a miracle that you somehow haven't spilled any of the drink that Mallory's fixed up for you as soon as you hit home — a post-mission ritual of sorts that he has, to make a bee-line for the kitchen and brew some fresh coffee. It's for himself, normally, but it hadn't taken long for one mug to turn to two. Your favourite one has your initials on it now, hand-drawn in permanent marker and marked with a little smiley face.
You brush your fingers over the ceramic idly, a thought catching on the periphery of your mind. "Hey, Mal?" You pause in your pacing. Turn. You swear he was right there a moment ago.
"Mal?" How on earth does he keep doing that?
You backtrack to the kitchen and follow the trail of disarray: the other mug of coffee, barely touched, still set on the counter. The jacket messily draped over the back of an armchair. Then, there — the culprit himself, curled up on the edge of the sofa.
It's a curious sight. Mallory doesn't relax; not in any noticeable way, unless he's asleep — he loses that tension he always holds in his back like he's bracing against a hit, limbs now held loosely, the angles of his face softer now. He looks… different. Unguarded.
You don't blame him, really. How long have you two been up, anyway? At least a full day for you; probably longer for him, since he was the one who called in the sighting. There's a blanket folded at the edge of the sofa for situations like these (you think you ought to be mildly concerned for the fact that he is perpetually prepared to be exhausted enough to pass out on the couch), and you're careful as you reach over the back of the sofa and pull it gently over him.
The blanket catches on the edge of his tail. His eyes flutter open slowly. Oops.
He speaks first, voice low, sleepy, peering up at the edge blanket grasped in your hand. "Are you stealing that?"
"What— I'm helping you." You turn to place the mug down, just so you can have both hands on the blanket when you give it a tug. "Or maybe I should steal it. Payback for when you took my jacket."
"Oh, have mercy," he says, huffing out a laugh, and you half-expect it when he raises his hand to grasp your wrist lightly. "And leave me to freeze? Who else is going to personally cause problems for you every day?"
"Maybe. Think about how peaceful my life would be." You're precariously off-balance, the back of the sofa jutting into your hip. "No more spontaneous 'hey let's do this stupid thing, I swear it'll be fun!' messages at three in the morning."
"Nonsense, I'll figure out how to set up an automated system specifically to annoy you." He's grinning still, but it's a lopsided, lazy sort of smile. It only takes a light pull, and then you're letting yourself fall, less than gracefully, toppling over the back of the sofa to land on him.
"Mal I swear—"
"Truce, truce—" He's somehow wrangled the blanket out of your hands already, carefully lifting it to drape over the both of you. "I'll keep pestering you later, don't worry, but for now I promise I'll actually shut up."
You open your mouth to protest, but it's quick to fade. It's warm. "Truce." Were you this tired before? Your eyelids already feel heavy. "You gotta make me another drink later though, that one's getting cold."
You feel his laugh rather than hear it, a quiet sort of rumble in his chest. "Deal."
“I want you to list every lie you ever told me. Then I’ll forgive you.” + pariah or vasilisia would be 👀 if you're feeling it!!
[What if I...do both]
“I want you to list every lie you ever told me. Then I’ll forgive you.”
Pariah yanks off their helmet, throwing it carelessly on the table by the door, as they shove past Vasilisia and move deeper into the headquarters. Vasilisia, as usual, follows closely behind, and they can feel the heavy energy seeping off of her even as they try to move away.
“I’m serious, Pariah!” Her voice is sharp, a far cry from its usual gentle tones, and Pariah does their best to ignore it as they push open the kitchen door A streak of scarlet is left on the chipping white paint with the gesture, and they internally chastise themselves for that; Helios is going to kill them later if she sees the stain. “You said we wouldn’t be hurting anyone, let alone killing!”
Rather than respond immediately, Pariah yanks open the fridge and stares down at the disarray that lies within. Several Harry’s leftovers, a head of lettuce that’s gradually turning brown, a packet of eggs with a rather funky aroma, and one box of macaroni salad. Given the options they have, they grab the latter and slam the fridge shut.
“I said we wouldn’t kill anyone unless we had to,” they explain, popping open the lid as they pull out a fork from a nearby drawer. They shake their head a bit to get the curls out of their eyes as they look back at Vasilisia. She looks like fury incarnate; her blonde hair is pushed back from her face thanks to the rain that they just went stumbling through, and she’s wearing a deep scowl. With the way she’s crossing her arms over her chest, Pariah feels like they’re standing in their aunt’s kitchen again after breaking one of her china plates. “In this case, we had to.”
“Why? They put their weapons down! They were willing to listen!” Vasilisia unfurls her arms and gestures wildly about the kitchen with each word, as if to emphasize her point. Pariah continues to eat their dinner, simply letting her get it all out. This isn’t the first time Vasilisia has torn into them like this.
“Yeah, and then they went to grab them again as soon as you turned away.” They reach up and wipe the corner of their mouth as they set the now empty container down on the counter. A quick glance at the sink reminds them that it’s their turn to do dishes tonight. If Helios doesn’t kill them for the blood on the door, she’ll certainly do it for the dishes in the sink. “They would’ve stuck a blade in your back if I didn’t put one in their neck first.”
Vasilisia stares at them for a moment, her expression flickering through a myriad of emotions. Pariah turns on the tap and dumps a generous amount of dish soap in, watching as bubbles begin to float up in the air. At least they can wash the blood off of their hands while they’re at this. After a few moments, a loud scoff fills the room as Vasilisia runs her hands over her face.
“This is so fucked up. Like, you see how fucked up this is, right?” She’s looking at Pariah with something akin to desperation, and Pariah feels a bit of sympathy. Vasilisia has so much faith in the good of humanity that when things like this happen, when humanity shows just how ugly it can be, it always throws her off.
She’ll need to learn to look at all sides of the coin if she intends to keep working with the Triumvirate, though.
“Yeah, well, we live in Attollo, Lis.” Pariah plunges their hands in the water and watches as the white bubbles turn light pink with the action. Hopefully, Helios won’t mind the lack of hygiene protocols going on right now. “Fucked up happens to be our norm.”
"i don't want to visit any more relatives, i just want to sit with you and watch cheesy (hallmark) movies. " + charlotte 🥺
“Do you know how many Hallmark movies I’m missing out on right now?” Charlotte groans, stretching herself over your lap on the loveseat. Her long legs stretch over the side and create a trip hazard for all her family members who are milling around the main floor. Anyone not doing that is standing in the kitchen bickering about meal prep or smushed onto the other couches next to you. Only the holiday season can bring so many Nguyens together in one place, and while you’re loving it Charlotte was over the experience two hours ago.
You smile fondly at her dramatics. “I set them all to record.”
“You did?” She looks up at you through her bangs full of hope.
“Of course,” you say, carding a hand through her loose strands of hair. “I know how much you love them, and I figure it’s the perfect way for us to unwind after all this.”
She sighs happily and settles further into your lap. “Have I told you that I love you lately?”
You grin, cheesy and wide. “Wouldn’t hurt to hear it again.”
“I love you.”
Her cousin makes a retching sound from the couch over, and you all dissolve into giggles.
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penance for warren? 👀 and!! sun for vivian if you're okay with more than one 🥺 i love your characters sm!!
tysm<3<3 I love your characters!! I’m so excited for the demo!! Also so sorry I fell off the wheel soon after this came in!
??. penance
Do we choose the sins we pay for? Of course, choice comes in when we commit them and Warren is the last person to deny any of the things he’s done. But do we get choose penance? which of our sins will come back to haunt? which ones follows us around like a chorus of ghosts? Is the path to penance paid by the worst of our stains or must we stand on our knees with mortar in hand and build the road ourselves?
Can someone like him even try?
Evelyn forgave him. The saint. But the one’s forgiveness he needs, he’ll never get.
??. sun
It is not conventional to install a sunroom in your estate. Society deemed it a waste as the room wouldn’t be functional for half the year. Funny how this particular instance of waste was considered almost sinful and the whole of gentry life considered necessary, even proper. Lining one’s hallway with gilded wallpaper, manufactured by impoverished, enslaved peoples in other lands, is fashion. But Vivian’s sunroom is a waste.
Fuck them.
Long, thin rectangles of creamy orange and feather-soft yellow lined the floor. Vivian soaks it all in, laying on the chaise, sipping cold tea. Fuck them all. This was hers.
Bones has her hands in your hair, pressing closerclosercloser, mouth pressed to yours. She’s so sweet, so gentle with you, leading you hand in hand, always making sure you’re comfortable. She never pushes your boundaries, always making sure you’re ready for the next step.
She’s heavenly.
You hold her waist, now, arms wrapping around her, pulling her close. You can’t get enough of her, of the intoxication of her kisses, of the adoration you can feel in every touch.
Your eyes are closed, but when Bones starts to pull away they flutter open, meeting hers. She’s so close, so close your lips are still brushing, you can feel her breath on your skin. She smiles, and you feel it against your mouth, and it makes your lips curve into a smile of your own.
“I love you,” she murmurs, and you cherish the way ‘love’ feels coming from her lips.
“I love you.”
Bones laughs, pressing forward just enough to catch you in another kiss. She’s amazing, this woman you love, and you’re so, so lucky every day knowing she loves you back.
ooooh, sienna and stormy days if you're feeling up to it? i haven't played the update yet but i need to!!
The crash of thunder outside the old stone building you’re in makes you jump, and behind you Sienna stifles of a huff of laughter. You don’t know how she can conjure up this kind of weather in her dreams when her favored places are ruins. It makes you worry.
Sienna bends down, setting her pomegranate aside. “I didn’t have you pegged for someone afraid of storms, darling.” She sets a hand on your shoulder, comforting and warm.
You look up at her where she’s sitting on the stone slab that serves as the table, offering her a smile. “I’m not, usually. There’s just... something about storms in these dreams that make me uneasy.”
Humming, Sienna slips off the table to join you on the cushions on the floor, slipping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into her. She’s warm, and when she gently tucks you into her arms you relax despite yourself, her spicy scent calming you.
“Dreams do have a way of growing on their own, don’t they?”
You can feel her speaking, the rumble of her voice in her chest, and you hum in response. Curled up to her, you feel like the storm is miles away, even as thunder rumbles once again.
Rain falls heavy on the roof, lightning crackling across the sky, making the air heavy with the smell of ozone and rain, but you’re too caught up in Sienna to notice anymore. She smells like the pomegranate she was pulling apart, like clove and honey wine, like safety and home.
She runs her fingers through your hair and sings softly, her voice low and rumbling, the words in a language you don’t recognize. It’s beautiful, and you find yourself humming along, knowing the tune despite not knowing it at all.
