#phybien

[vampemoqueen]

Chapter 6 of Stroke of Midnight out!

New chapter. We got a long one at 7.3k words!

Fabien and Fadime go on a work date! things get a little heated, Fabien gets his action moment, and the plot thickens,

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[vampemoqueen]

will tumblr let me post this hornyness

phybien, still on the brain,,

Full version on bsky

[amberkendslacy]

This song is so fucking Fabien coded it makes me weep 😭

[vampirebundytapes]

phybien.... *sips bloodbag*

[gubycek]

[vampemoqueen]

I write VTMB2 fic too 🥺👉👈

currently obsessed with writing F!Phyre/Fabien fic. One is spicy and the other is less so. Both are pending updates! Stroke of Midnight Rating: Explicit Tags: Historical AU, Porn with plot CW: Graphic depictions of violence, Blood and Gore, Smut, Religious Trauma and undertones Summary: A 1925 Phybian AU. Detective Fabien, a fledgling of barely five years, is unexpectedly invited to the Camarilla’s 1925 New Year’s celebration. He assumes it’s just another security assignment, until she arrives. The Nomad, calling herself Fadime, makes a stunning entrance into Seattle after accepting Lou Graham’s invitation to investigate a looming threat. Before confronting that danger however, she captures Fabien's attention and draws him to her. By the end of the night, Fabien finds himself enlisted in her cause, and swept into an encounter he will never forget.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

To Taste a Foreign Body Rating: Teen Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Story retelling, Mostly canon compliant CW: Relationship conflict, Toxic relationship dynamics Summary: Phyre wakes up to find a binding mark on her hand and a mysterious soul trapped within the confines of her mind. She is not happy about it. At all.

Why does the voice in her head have to be so kind despite how much she mistreats him? It infuriates her, and strangely enough, also stirs a different kind of passion.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[misosouppe]

just a straightforward ship playlist i've been making.

[synchodai]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you @mad-rigals for tagging me!

"Am I not your Sheriff, Fabien?" Phyre lifted Fabien's chin, forcing them to look directly into their eyes. The detective had caught on to what they were mulling over. After all, others had done it to him so many times. Despite that, he did not resist. "Ah, right, Camarilla protocol," he said with a casual resignation. "Go on, then, Sheriff. Scramble my grey matter. Chain me to the radiator. A stake through the heart, why not? Now, that'll really make sure that I'm not going anywhere." "You could simply do as I say," they whispered, half a lullaby and half a threat, their eyes a golden glow. "Can you not understand? I am tired of watching you get hurt." "And I'm not tired of watching you hurt yourself for me?" Fabien caressed their face in return. "I'm sorry, Phyre. Big, bad Nomad or not, I'm not going to stand back and let you put this all on yourself. Not of my free will, I won't." He was well aware that Phyre could force him to comply with little effort. What was the point of this futile obstinacy? Why was he being so needlessly difficult? "This is foolishness, Fabien." "That could very well be the case," he admitted with a little chuckle. "Love does have that tendency to turn fellas into fools." It would be so easy to change his mind. Just a single word. The Nomad had done it so many times, even on lovers. It would be for his own good. An Elder compelling their subordinate would have been par for the course — so unremarkable as to not even be worth protesting against. But Fabien had been Phyre's guide and counsel before he had ever been their Hound. The only way they had survived the trials of this city was through heeding his voice. Phyre sighed in exasperation and closed their eyes. Love does indeed make fools of us all. Fabien blinked in stunned disbelief. "Phyre, I didn't… huh..." Gone was the cocksure audacity of a man expecting to be punished no matter what he said. Now, he didn't quite know what to say. He smiled with the guarded awkwardness of a beaten animal experiencing its first gentle touch. In the hundred years serving as Hound, when was the last time someone didn't muzzle him when he dared to bay? "You really are something else. Thank you. I mean it."

« WIP of Veritas Filia Temporis - Chapter 12 »

No pressure tagging @dantecowboyofkischou, @fabienlaguna, @darkshadows93, and @vampemoqueen