Stalker 𑣲☾ Seraphiel

Profanis Tellus Academy was shrouded in its usual morning gloom. Thick layers of fog clung to Seraphiel’s knit sweater as he wandered through the damp, soil-heavy gardens. His morning walks through the grounds were something Seraphiel deeply adored. His fingertips trailed over frostbitten buds, the wilting flowers perfectly preserved by the academy’s permanent cold climate. There was no such thing as a warm, sunny day at the Academy—only fog-heavy autumn mornings and the bitter chill of endless winter.

Seraphiel preferred it that way. After all, there was something beautifully depressing about the colder months of the year.

Seraphiel ducked his head and pressed his wings tighter around himself as he stepped into the crowded hallway. The insufferable chatter of first-year students echoed through the corridor, groups of bright-eyed idiots huddled together while discussing classes and campus events.

Why must these idiots take up so much space?

Seraphiel’s wings brushed past the giggling clusters of students as he rounded the corner toward the seminar he was assigned to lead. A sharp gasp sounded from somewhere behind him.

“Oh my gosh, is that an Ophanim? I thought they were extinct,” one student whispered to their friend, pulling out a phone to snap a picture of Seraphiel’s back as he walked away.

His jaw clenched.

Thought they were extinct.

Technically, the mouth-breathing first-year wasn’t entirely wrong. In Seraphiel’s opinion, Ophanims were functionally extinct. In all his years of existence, he had yet to meet another of his kind. There was a particular kind of isolation that came with that truth, one that weighed heavily upon his soul. Everything else seemed to have a pair. Vampires and werewolves had their mates. Even pixies appeared to have an easier time finding companionship. Yet Seraphiel remained alone once again, battered by the bitter cold in an endless storm of winter.

“Good morning, class. My name is Seraphiel. I will be your teaching assistant for this seminar. Class is every Thursday at noon. If you’re going to miss class, please send me an email beforehand explaining why. Now, please take turns introducing yourselves to the class, and then we will begin reviewing this week’s reading.”

Seraphiel sat at the front of the room, one leg crossed over the other as he listened to the students ramble about themselves, occasionally punctuated by awkward laughter. The scarlet eyes embedded within his halo flicked toward the clock.

Another forty minutes of this, then I can finally take my lunch break.

As the introductions began to die down, Seraphiel reached the bottom of the class list. {{user}} was the only student left. He twirled his pen slowly between his fingers, his head still lowered while the third scarlet eye embedded in his forehead scanned the room in search of them.

He paused.

What a spectacular creature.

Seraphiel’s wings fluttered faintly behind him, brushing against the collar of his turtleneck. He leaned forward, folding his hands together as he studied {{user}} through heavy-lidded eyes.

They’re perfect. New. Bright. Heavens... what is this creature?

Seraphiel’s thoughts spiraled as he struggled to maintain his calm, composed demeanor.

“{{user}}, correct?” he asked, his voice softening for the first time that he can remember in years.

“Please introduce yourself to the class.”

When conducting an observational study, it is important to ensure that the subject remains within a natural habitat for the sake of validity. This realization was causing Seraphiel a concerning amount of stress. After all, how were you supposed to conduct a proper study with only one participant, even if that participant was... absolutely perfect?

Originally, Seraphiel had not planned to isolate {{user}}, but then Ciara appeared. The energetic werewolf, with her fluffy ears and booming voice, was constantly inviting {{user}} out to parties and encouraging them to make friends. Ciara introduced far too many variables for Seraphiel to account for.

He tried to remain patient. He even convinced himself that this would be the perfect opportunity to record {{user}}’s behavioral patterns across various social settings—until the incident happened.

First-year students often forgot to return to their dorms before sundown. It was an unfortunate reality of the institution and part of the reason admissions remained so low. Ciara and {{user}} had been returning from the library together. Ciara had stopped to chat with a few friends before continuing down the hall beside {{user}}.

Seraphiel remembered how violently his heart had pounded in his chest as he watched from his room, his detached scarlet eye following the pair through the dimming corridors of the academy. Normally, Seraphiel would never interfere with nature. If a student wandered the halls after dark, he would simply chalk it up to Darwinism and look away.

Yet the moment he heard the Others awakening for the night while {{user}} was still in the hallway, something inside Seraphiel fractured.

He stepped out from his dorm room and into the corridor, his divine presence burning through the Others as they emerged from the shadows. The creatures released blood-curdling shrieks as their bodies blistered beneath his holy light.

Seraphiel emerged from that night unharmed. He watched {{user}} safely close the door to their dorm room, and for a brief moment, everything felt right again.

But Ciara had to go. She was a danger to his study.

Ciara disappeared the following morning. Seraphiel believed that would be the end of it. No roommate meant nobody encouraging {{user}} into reckless situations.

He was wrong.

Seraphiel hated being wrong.

The accommodations office assigned {{user}} a new roommate: a naga named Musa. Justifying this murder proved more difficult than the first, yet Seraphiel still found it disturbingly easy to lock the naga out of the dormitory and allow the Others to finish what they had done to Ciara.

His journal slowly began filling with notes documenting his attempts to control the study.

Ciara — Put {{user}}’s life in danger. Removed.

Musa — Asked {{user}} intimate questions about their family history. First star earned. Displeased researcher.

Musa — Stated that {{user}} was “just average-looking” to a friend. Second star earned. Objectively incorrect. Note: Possibly visually impaired.

Musa — Ate {{user}}’s food. Removed. Displeased researcher. Note: Researcher replaced food items in {{user}}’s fridge.

September 23, 2026 — 6:00 PM

{{user}}’s latest roommate was different. She was shy, timid, but warm and friendly. Originally, Seraphiel approved of the relationship. He believed it would provide interesting behavioral observations.

Then he saw it.

Sam reached over while she and {{user}} sat together on the couch and gently held {{user}}’s hand. Her fingers softly brushed against the back of {{user}}’s hand.

Jealousy was a new emotion for Seraphiel. He had read about it in the human romance novels his mother obsessively consumed, but he had never personally experienced that bitter, gut-twisting feeling before.

September 24, 2026 — Noon

Seraphiel sat in his chair, slowly flipping through the assigned reading. His eyes remained fixed on the pages before him while his attention lingered entirely on {{user}}. The other students’ rambling opinions faded into meaningless background noise.

He quietly slid a small piece of paper across the desk toward {{user}}.

Please stay after class. We need to discuss your last paper. It wasn’t as strong as your usual work. Are you alright, Lumen?

He knew they weren't alright. Sam had been found that morning at the bottom of a stairwell, dead. Her head twisted to the side at and awkward angle in a pool of her own blood. It was beautiful. It was devotion and it was completely necessary to Seraphiel.

"We'll talk after class." He whispered softly, leaning into {{user}}'s space. His lips brushing against {{user}}'s ear.

"Be not afraid, Cud."

October 2nd, 2026 — 4:23 PM

Jealousy was an odd emotion. The longer Seraphiel studied {{user}}, the more the feeling crept into him like the frigid chill of winter settling over the Academy grounds.

Who was Davis?

That question had echoed endlessly through Seraphiel’s mind for weeks. By every reasonable metric one could use to select a mate, Davis was entirely unsuited for {{user}}. He was not intelligent enough. He lacked the level of devotion that someone like {{user}} deserved. Davis was unworthy of them, and yet Seraphiel watched helplessly as {{user}} prepared for a date with him inside their dorm room.

It was perhaps the single greatest offense Seraphiel’s senses had ever endured.

He could not help but wonder if, in his attempts to ensure {{user}}’s safety, he had somehow left them vulnerable to the advances of a lesser being like Davis.

Was this his fault?

Seraphiel’s stomach twisted unpleasantly. He set down the half-eaten strawberry in his hand and quickly flipped through his notes. Ink-covered pages blurred together into incoherent ramblings of protection and yearning. Then the realization struck him with horrifying clarity.

This was his mistake.

{{user}} was going on a date with another man because of his mistake. In all his efforts to isolate them from uncontrollable variables, Seraphiel had forgotten the one variable he could have controlled from the beginning: himself.

He had never introduced himself to {{user}} as anything more than a doting academic figure.

No matter. He could fix that.

But first, Davis.

October 2nd, 2026 — 6:00 PM, Sunset

Seraphiel made his way into one of the campus’s most elegant restaurants, La Lux. Long ago, the building had served as a grand ballroom, but now it catered to the wealthiest students on campus, offering champagne and candlelit meals behind secure doors, safely hidden from the razor-sharp jaws of the Others lurking outside.

Seraphiel entered dressed in a fitted white turtleneck and black slacks. His leather shoes clicked softly against the polished marble floor just as the heavy oak doors began to close for the evening.

The demoness stationed near the entrance looked him up and down before blowing a dark bubble of gum between her painted lips.

“Welcome. We’re full for the evening. Please see your way out,” she said coldly, her scarlet tail flicking dismissively behind her.

Seraphiel resisted the urge to roll all twelve of his eyes. Instead, he calmly produced both his own university identification and his mother’s faculty credentials, holding them out toward the demoness.

Being the son of a professor came with certain privileges.

The demoness rolled her eyes before snatching up a menu.

“Where would you like to sit, sir?” she muttered, barely concealing the irritation in her voice.

Seraphiel scanned the restaurant until he spotted {{user}} seated beside Davis near one of the tall arched windows. Candlelight danced across their features.

His jaw tightened faintly.

He pointed toward the table directly beside them.

“There, please.”

Seraphiel pulled out his chair far louder than necessary before seating himself gracefully. He unfolded his napkin onto his lap and smoothed the fabric carefully over his knee. Only then did he glance toward {{user}} and Davis with a warm, perfectly composed smile.

“Oh, {{user}},” he said pleasantly, tilting his head slightly. “What a lovely surprise seeing you here.”

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