their days hardly ever changed, and zeke profited from it the most. morning coffee and breakfast, lunch-break snacks and another cup to survive the rest of their shifts at jobs they tolerated, and then dinner, dessert. some came to luna's diner for all three meals, some skipped one or more, but zeke hardly ever had the place to himself during the day.
zeke, too, was a creature of habit—though clearly a lot less human than anyone could have guessed. the flood of memories he hadn’t known existed had been a little uncomfortable at first, but not surprising. there had been signs. had he been content in this life as zeke? sure. but suddenly, so much made sense.
the first few days had been a challenge. the wolf hadn’t cooperated, pawing at his control, sniffing and circling beneath his skin even though it was always zeke who called the shots. not that there was much difference between them. zeke and his wolf weren’t separate—he was the wolf.
he thought about closing the diner, about running off to reclaim a kingdom in the nearby forest, staking his claim and starting anew—but was that what he wanted? he already had a kingdom here, didn’t he? within the property he’d tended day in and day out.
what now?
for the time being, he stuck to routine. the day had been …ordinary. strange, but familiar. life went on; people came and went; and with each visitor, he wondered who remembered, which life they preferred—but he didn’t ask. the sun was dipping low when a familiar scent hit him first, long before he saw the figure step inside. ears twitching under the hood he didn’t bother removing, nostrils flaring slightly, he padded silently across the floor.
“usual.”
zeke hummed, giving a little nod, slipping into the kitchen like a shadow. he returned moments later with a plate in one hand, a soda in the other, settling them down with a soft thud, a predatory precision in the movement. a fangy grin flashed beneath the hood of his hoodie—the most obvious change about him for now.
“doing great.” he shifted, tail of movement quick and smooth, constantly adjusting, balancing, wolf and human intertwined. he was still struggling with control, constantly flicking between moon’s warrior and …not, but he made do. “you look …normal.”
like he wasn’t bothered at all. though the scent lingered—foreign, sharp—zeke’s nose twitched involuntarily. or maybe he’d simply never noticed before. ears flicking toward the faintest noise behind the counter, claws flexing just enough to feel the wood beneath his fingers. “don’t smell it, though.”
Humans, he thought, had always been simple to read. Their routines, their fears, the way they clung to habits like anchors against the currents of life. Magnus had once ruled over the vast stretches of sea where the smallest shift in current could change everything. Now, he sat at a counter with a plate of fish, pretending that the predictability of it soothed him. Maybe it did, maybe it didn't. He didn't know yet.
“Normal,” Magnus echoed, the word heavier in his voice than it should have been. He tilted his head, watching the grin with its flash of fang. “I don’t know that I’ve ever been that. Not then. Not now.” He set his hands on the counter, broad and steady, like they could still command tides. The weight of grief lived in his chest, but so did an ocean’s worth of patience.
“You smell what’s missing in me, don’t you? The sea doesn’t cling the way it used to. It’s there, but faint. Like it’s behind glass. I wonder if that’s what this town does: keeps us half ourselves, half something else.” His voice softened, like a tide rolling over sand, but his eyes carried the weight of kingdoms, family, and loss.
He cut the fish and took a bite, lost in thought. "I was the King of the Seas once. I've lived a longer life than most in this town, but rarely on land. It's conflicting." He took another bite then. "And I have a feeling you understand that all too well."
"Maybe we could hang out after you close. Do something, I don't know what yet, but something," Magnus offered. Soft and thoughtful as he ate.
Open to: all!
Location: Legends’ Forge (Dom's Gym)
Dominic opened the gym bright and early, as always, but he didn't go through his exercise routine as always. Instead, he sat looking at the ceiling, thinking. A terrible thing, I know.
The bell of the door opening warned him of someone coming in. He moved his head and eyed the possible customer. He thought for a second too long before he finally got up, put his classic smile in place, and walked towards this person. "Welcome," he greeted simply.
He was sure he knew this person; he knew almost everyone in town, but his mind was in another place, in another time, in a haze. But Dominic wasn't weak, he was never weak, but he needed to come to terms with his memories, his other life, his other self.
“I was told once that no one fights like me, dines like me, or… well, you know the rest. Care to test it?” Dominic asked with a big, confident smile. Nothing like a good competition to stop yourself from thinking too much.
@talednewsletter
open to: all !!
notes: some post curse lovin'
pellar still felt unsettled, like the town itself hadn’t quite decided how to breathe again. people moved through the streets a little slower, voices softer, as if afraid of stirring up whatever remnants of the curse might linger. leopold felt it too—that restless ache of memories clashing with what had been their lives here.
he wasn’t sure what to do with all of it, not really. but he could bake.
so the night before, he’d filled his kitchen with the scent of sugar and fruit, pressing gooseberries into little pies until the counters were dusted white and his hands ached pleasantly. and now, basket tucked under his arm, he made his way through town—stopping here and there to offer one to whoever he passed, making sure to look people in the eye, to ask how they were doing, to let them know someone was listening.
he told himself it was just kindness, just a way to steady both himself and his neighbors—but part of him knew it was more than that. he wanted to help florian, his prince, in looking after the town. the sheriff couldn’t be everywhere at once, no matter how hard he tried and if leopold could lighten the weight even a little—if he could be another pair of hands, another steady voice—then he would.
“pie?” he offered with a small smile to the next figure he came across, holding the basket out just enough for them to peek inside. “they’re nothing fancy, but… i thought it might help. you know. something sweet, in the middle of all this.”
he lingered there, not rushing, ready to listen if words came—or simply to stand in quiet company if they didn’t.
Dom felt at odds. The new memories in his head made no sense with the life he led now. He wasn't that person, was he? He wasn't the villain! He had just... that man had just wanted what was best for that village! Right? Right.
However, he couldn't shake the feelings of unease in him. So, he went out for a walk. He walked without direction, he walked for hours, he walked until he couldn't walk anymore, and was forced to sit down at a bench on the park. He listened to the birds chirp and squirrels dart around. He felt the breeze against his face. He smelled the earthy scent of the ground and nature around him.
And then he felt him. He heard the steps, smelled the freshly baked goods, and he wanted to believe the memories were lies. That only Dom existed, not Gaston. That Leopold was only Leopold and so on. But deep down, he knew the truth.
When Leopold stopped by his side and offered him a pie, he looked up. Straightened his back and smiled. A smile that was forced more than anything. "You know pies aren't healthy for you, Leopold," Dom said, his eyes leaving Leopold's eyes and moving to the basket. "But I guess I haven't had a cheat day in forever. Sure, give me one."
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When Magnus walked, he walked with an authority that his same physique resembled, but his expression was always calm and even gentle. The neighbors, the town itself, already knew him, so most of them weren't afraid of him anymore.
Good.
His routine was simple. Straightforward even. He woke up early, made himself a quick breakfast, and went to work. Sometimes he skipped lunch or brought a small lunch box with him to work, but after work, he went to the local diner. Like clockwork. What else was he supposed to spend his hard-earned money on? Besides, the fish was good.
Magnus often smelled of pools or the ocean. The scent of water was never too far from him, and while he enjoyed a good red meat, he always felt strange eating it. Fish was his go-to, usually with coffee or a very cold soda. Zeke, the diner's owner, knew that by now.
But he understood why he felt called to the water, to fish, why everything around him had felt foreign, and why he felt pieces of his life had been missing before and now were suddenly back like a tidal wave. He grieved his late wife, he missed his children, he missed his kingdom, and his friends. It had hit him hard.
But all he had was this human life, this routine of his. So he stuck to it for now as he processed everything. His job suddenly made sense, his food preferences suddenly made sense, the feeling of missing something made sense.
---
Magnus walked into the diner and was relieved to see Zeke. "The usual, yeah?" He said as he sat on the counter. "How are you holding up?" He asked, lifting his eyes and watching Zeke move. He wanted to ask about his life, his real life, but he didn't want to be rude. Not to his only friend! So he asked the next best thing: how he was doing.
"If you ever need any help..." he added more quietly, softly with that fatherly tone he used to give his little boys.
luke evans, bisexual, cis Male + he/him → isn’t that dominic chasseur? the story claims that they're gaston from beauty and the beast. i hear they’re 36. in the cursed town they’re a gym owner, but back in the fairy tale realm they were a hunter. they seem to be charismatic & brave, but also vain & entitled. their aesthetics include taxidermy animals, old guns, leather jackets
𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
FULL NAME: Dominic Chasseur
ALSO KNOWN AS: Gaston
AGE: 36
GENDER/PRONOUNS: Male (He/him)
ORIENTATION: Bisexual
SPECIES: Human
FAIRY TALE CONNECTION: The Beauty and the Beast
OCCUPATION (PRE-CURSE): Hunter
OCCUPATION (CURSE/PELLAR TOWN): Gym Owner
SEXUAL TEMPERAMENT: Dominant
SEXUAL POSITION: Top
FACE CLAIM: Luke Evans
EYE COLOUR: Blue
HAIR COLOUR: Brown
HEIGHT: 6'
BODY BUILD: Muscular, well-toned
FACIAL HAIR: N/A
TATTOOS + PIERCINGS: N/A
NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: A couple of scars from his time at war
AESTHETICS: taxidermy animals, old guns, leather jackets
𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒
KINKS: Bondage (other), Dom, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex
ANTI-KINKS: Vore. Scat. Urophilia.
𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘
Gaston was born in a small French village as the eldest son of a respected gamekeeper. From childhood, he was praised for his strength, good looks, and sharp eye with a musket. He quickly grew into the kind of young man people admired or envied. His father taught him hunting as both a skill and a way of life, while his mother instilled in him the belief that he was destined for greatness.
By the time he was sixteen, Gaston had already killed his first stag and was celebrated at the tavern as a prodigy hunter. He grew up on constant praise: every successful hunt, every display of strength, every grin that made the girls of the village swoon reinforced the idea that he was exceptional. Gaston never learned humility, only that admiration was his due.
When war broke out, Gaston eagerly joined the French army. He rose quickly through the ranks, serving as a captain by the time he was twenty-one. On the battlefield, his charisma inspired soldiers, and his ruthless efficiency earned victories. But the war also hardened him. Gaston grew accustomed to taking what he wanted, to seeing enemies as prey, and to demanding loyalty and obedience from those beneath him.
When the war ended, he returned home restless. The village welcomed him as a hero, and he slid easily into the role of protector and provider. He filled his tavern with hunting trophies, reminders of his power, and the people reinforced the myth of Gaston: handsome, brave, unbeatable. Yet, beneath his bravado was a gnawing fear; peace offered no battlefield, no outlet for his need to conquer.
It was in this restlessness that Belle caught his eye. Unlike the other women in town, she was not impressed by his stories or his muscles. She dismissed his boasts, walked past his victories, and refused to giggle at his charm. For Gaston, used to getting whatever he wanted, this was unthinkable.
In his mind, Belle became the next prize to claim. If he could win her, it would prove that his glory was unshakable, that he was still the hero, the conqueror. Her rejection, however, stirred something unfamiliar: insecurity. To Gaston, that insecurity felt like humiliation, and humiliation was intolerable.
As Belle resisted, Gaston’s sense of entitlement curdled into obsession. He convinced himself that he was not just wooing her, he was saving her from her own foolishness. When he learned of the Beast, he saw not just a rival, but a monster daring to claim what was his. His rallying of the villagers was not about protection; it was the final hunt, the ultimate battle to restore his pride.
Despite losing, he survived...
Dominic runs the most popular gym in Pellar’s Town, a place that’s equal parts iron paradise and shrine to his own physique. Locals know him as the kind of man who pushes everyone to their limits, shouting encouragement that feels more like a battle cry. He thrives on the admiration of his clients, most of whom can’t help but be impressed by his strength and confidence. To Dominic, the gym isn’t just a business; it’s his kingdom, where discipline, order, and power are worshiped with every rep and every drop of sweat.
His trophies are lined up as weightlifting records and framed photos on the gym wall instead of antlers and pelts. His obsession with being the best is shown in the way he sizes up new members, treating every session like a competition. Sometimes the flicker of insecurity hits him, but he shakes it off quickly; but deep down, the hunger for admiration gnaws at him still.
ethan hawke, homosexual, cis male + he/him → isn’t that magnus delmar? the story claims that they're king triton from the little mermaid. i hear they’re 54. in the cursed town they’re a high school swim coach, but back in the fairy tale realm they were the king of the seas. they seem to be protective & wise, but also overprotective & hot-tempered. their aesthetics include sea dragon or leviathan engravings, dark navy, charcoal, and silver hues, intricate patterns like greek temple.
𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
FULL NAME: Magnus Delmar
ALSO KNOWN AS: King Triton
AGE: 54
GENDER/PRONOUNS: Male (He/him)
ORIENTATION: Homosexual
SPECIES: Demigod
FAIRY TALE CONNECTION: The Little Mermaid
OCCUPATION (PRE-CURSE): King of the Seas
OCCUPATION (CURSE/PELLAR TOWN): High School Swim Coach
SEXUAL TEMPERAMENT: Dominant but caring
SEXUAL POSITION: Top
FACE CLAIM: Ethan Hawke
EYE COLOUR: Green
HAIR COLOUR: Brown/White
HEIGHT: 6'4"
BODY BUILD: Muscular, well-toned
FACIAL HAIR: Mustache and Beard (lock style)
TATTOOS + PIERCINGS: A shark tattoo on his forearm
NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: A couple of scars from hard work at sea
𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒
PHOBIAS/FEARS: Monophobia (fear of being alone)
MENTAL DISORDERS: PTSD (Grief)
𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘
LIKES: Sea, fishing, storm watching, storytelling
DISLIKES: Cowardice, pollution, being talked down to
POSITIVE ATTRIBUTES: Protective, loyal, disciplined, wise, patient
NEGATIVE ATTRIBUTES: Prideful, stubborn, hot-tempered, judgmental, brooding
𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒
AESTHETICS: sea dragon or leviathan engravings, dark navy, charcoal, and silver hues, intricate patterns like greek temple
Born the son of Poseidon, god of the seas, Triton inherited both the command of the oceans and the burden of divine legacy. He grew up between two worlds: Olympus, where his uncle Zeus and cousin Hercules forged reputations in the skies and on land, and the deep, where he learned to shepherd tides, creatures, and the mysteries of the abyss.
While the ancient gods ruled Olympus and the wider world, Poseidon entrusted Triton with the undersea kingdom of Atlantica, believing his son’s heart for justice and strength would keep balance in the waters. Ursula, too, was a child of Poseidon, though her gifts were less tied to leadership and more to magic. While Triton embodied order and the crown, Ursula embodied chaos and ambition.
As he grew, Triton became a warrior-king. He wielded his father’s enchanted trident both as a weapon and as a symbol of divine authority. In his youth, he grew up alongside Athena, who later became his queen and the mother of his seven daughters. Their bond was deep, and their love brought joy and music to the seas. But tragedy struck when Athena was killed in a sudden pirate attack as she tried to protect the anniversary gift Triton had given her earlier that day, leaving Triton devastated. Overcome with grief, he threw the music box into the ocean, banned all music in Atlantica, and forbade contact with the human world. He raised his daughters under strict rules, in a non‐musical routine, driven by the loss of his wife and by a fear of anything associated with her demise, including humans and music.
Ursula, however, despised being overlooked. Gifted in dark sea-witch magic, she believed she had as much claim to the thrown as Triton did. Where he was chosen for his fairness, she was denied for her hunger for power. Resentment brewed, and eventually she turned against him, striking secret bargains and practicing forbidden magic. When her schemes endangered the kingdom, Triton exiled her, leaving her to fester in the shadows with her eel familiars.
Ariel grew up under these bans, often longing for what had been before Athena’s death. She inherited her mother’s love of music and eventually challenged Triton’s ban, seeking to restore joy to their lives and culture. In time, through Ariel’s actions and Ursula's interference once again and the rediscovery of the music box, Triton acknowledges the harm in his grief‐led decisions, rescinds the ban, and allows music back into Atlantica, beginning to heal the wound left by Athena’s loss.
But nothing last forever…
Nowadays, Magnus lives in a cabin by the docks. He is a high school swim couch who wakes up at the crack of dawn, gets some quick breakfast, and goes to work for the day. Despite his gruff exterior, he is not unapproachable, but fiercely loyal.
Magnus would also often go into town to buy groceries or pay the bills or simply to strike a conversation with someone hanging around at the park. His smiles are earnest, his words are kind, and he means well even when he messes something up.
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