#and never sketched faster in my life

[bunibelles]

I love u apples 🍎🫶🏼

Wip in progress

[knightinink]

rat bastard goat man.

[cuteniaarts]

@katkastrofa: *writes a single throwaway line in one chapter of Lost and Found that is never referenced again*

Me, completely randomly and with no prompting: Alright, bet–

[ame-to-ame]

there are things that you don't do for a year or more and pick up just right where you left off and these days i fear loving you might be one of them

[colleendoran]

Yeah, I drew that.

Half my life as a comic book creator is explaining that almost all of my training as an artist is pre-internet, pre-Photoshop, and pre-computer.

No, I don't trace all my figure work or backgrounds because almost all creators of my generation had to learn to draw extemporaneously, and it is actually easier and faster for me to just draw off the cuff than it is to dig through a pile of pics to get what I want.

No, this doesn't mean I never use reference and it doesn't mean I haven't ever closely followed reference - or even closely copied a reference photograph.

It means I usually don't have to use reference for things I draw every day, like the human body. But if I had to draw the Taj Mahal, I'd use reference. I mean, I could do a generalization of the Taj Mahal from memory, but I'd need reference to get it right.

No, back in the day artists didn't all use the Camera Obscura, overhead projector, or lightbox. There is the sight size method, the comparative method, and the construction drawing method. I learned all three and have never used a Camera Obscura. I only used overhead projector a few times and hated it. I usually only use a lightbox to transfer sketches to the final art boards.

In classical ateliers, artist candidates are locked in rooms without access to any kind of Camera Obscura-style tools to make sure the artist can draw and paint without reliance on them.

No, this doesn't make me a Luddite and it doesn't mean I don't use computers now, it just means I can draw and paint and write without them, perhaps with a bit more confidence than some who never had to do without.

There are some computer artists who can do without, and some who can't. No judgment.

You do you.

I did without computers because there was no with computers. And that is how I learned.

But I don't appreciate that some out there flat out mislead about drawing methods because, it seems, if they can't do something, clearly other people can't either. Just because an artist used reference on one picture or even a dozen pictures, that doesn't mean every single element of everything they draw was slavishly referenced.

Most comic book creators of my generation did not and do not trace their figure work in Photoshop. Or whatever.

Some do. Most do not.

That's all.

[0omillo0]

MODEL! HYUNJIN X FEM! MODEL! READER

autor’s note: hi! this is my first post, I hope you’ll like it!

warnings: none!! pure fluff

Hyunjin, a renowned Versace model and gifted artist, has grown used to the fast-paced world of fashion. But when Y/N, a new model, steps into the scene, her authenticity catches his eye. As their paths intertwine, Hyunjin finds himself drawn not just to her beauty, but to something deeper—especially when he discovers a personal connection to his art in her life.

The lights above the runway glowed bright as you walked, your heart racing with every step. It was your first major show—Versace, no less—and the pressure of the fashion world felt like it was resting squarely on your shoulders. You kept your face composed, though. It was the life you had chosen, after all.

As you reached the end of the runway and struck your final pose, you caught a glimpse of someone standing backstage. Hwang Hyunjin. A name you had heard whispered many times, both in the modeling industry and beyond. He was already legendary as a Versace model—and as an artist. He stood with that ethereal grace, watching the runway with a calm confidence. His aura drew you in instantly.

Backstage, the models buzzed with excitement, but you found yourself scanning the room for Hyunjin. You weren’t sure why—maybe it was the effortless way he carried himself, or the way his expressive eyes seemed to speak without words. But there he was, standing near a rack of designer outfits, quietly sketching in a notebook.

He must have felt your gaze, because his eyes lifted from the page and met yours.

You blinked and quickly turned away, embarrassed to have been caught staring.

A moment later, you heard a voice behind you. “Nervous?”

Turning, you found yourself face-to-face with Hyunjin. His smile was small but warm, and it made your heart stutter. “A little,” you admitted, forcing yourself to breathe.

“You didn’t show it out there. You looked great.”

Your cheeks flushed. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if I would survive that.”

He chuckled, his laughter soft and genuine. “We all feel that way at first. Trust me.”

You nodded, trying to keep your cool. “You were sketching something?”

“Oh,” he glanced down at the notebook in his hand, almost shyly, “yeah, just passing time. It’s nothing.”

“I bet it’s beautiful,” you said without thinking. His sketches were famous—everyone knew Hyunjin wasn’t just a model but an incredible artist. His works sold out faster than any runway show.

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at your comment, looking a little surprised, but his smile grew just a bit wider. “Maybe one day you’ll see for yourself.”

---

Days turned into weeks, and as more Versace events brought you together, you and Hyunjin grew closer. What began as polite conversations evolved into genuine exchanges—talks about art, fashion, and life beyond the glitz and glamor. He was different from the others. Though he was breathtaking in every way, Hyunjin never acted like it. Instead, he carried himself with a quiet humility, a soul deeper than the world around him realized.

One evening, after a long day of fittings, you sat backstage, scrolling through your phone to relax. Hyunjin approached, as he often did these days, and sat beside you. His presence had become comforting.

"What are you looking at?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, nothing special," you said, not thinking much of it as you showed him your phone. But his eyes widened slightly when he saw your lock screen.

It was one of his paintings—a swirling combination of colors and emotion that you had seen in an exhibition once. You loved how raw and alive it felt, and you had put it as your wallpaper without realizing Hyunjin might ever see it.

"That’s... my painting," he said softly, his voice almost touched with disbelief.

You felt a sudden rush of heat rise to your face. "Oh my god, I—yeah, it is. I didn’t think you'd—uh, I really loved it. It just felt so... powerful. I hope that's not weird."

He stared at the screen for a long moment before meeting your eyes. His usual calm demeanor had shifted, and for the first time, you saw something vulnerable in his expression.

"It’s not weird," he murmured, his voice lower than usual. "It’s... actually really special."

His hand brushed against yours as he handed your phone back, and neither of you moved away. The air between you seemed to thicken with something unspoken.

"You know," Hyunjin began, his gaze dropping for a second before looking back up, "people don’t usually talk about my art like that. They just think of me as a model."

"I don’t," you said softly. "I think you’re an incredible artist."

Hyunjin looked at you like you had said something life-changing. His hand stayed close to yours, and you felt a magnetic pull between you, as if something deeper had just clicked into place.

"Thank you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice almost fragile. "I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that."

---

As weeks passed, the connection between you and Hyunjin only deepened. The fashion shows continued, the flashing lights, the crowds, the interviews—but somehow, when you were with him, it all faded into the background.

He would seek you out between shoots, and you found yourself drawn to him in ways you couldn’t explain. His attention to detail, the way he viewed the world through an artistic lens, the kindness in his words—it made your heart race every time you saw him.

One evening, after a long day of rehearsals, the two of you found yourselves alone in the studio. Hyunjin was working on a painting in the corner while you sat nearby, watching him with quiet admiration. He glanced at you every so often, his eyes soft.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, breaking the silence.

"Of course."

"Why my painting?" he asked, his voice careful, but curious. "Out of all the art you could’ve chosen, why mine?"

You thought for a moment before answering. "Because it felt real. When I saw it, I felt something… like it was a piece of your soul. It wasn’t just a pretty picture—it had emotion, depth. I could see you in it."

Hyunjin stared at you for a long moment, something intense flickering in his gaze. He set his brush down and took a slow step closer.

"You saw me in it?" he repeated, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable.

"Yeah," you nodded, holding his gaze. "I did."

Hyunjin's breath hitched, and in that moment, something shifted between you. He reached out, gently taking your hand. His touch was warm, and his thumb brushed over your skin as if testing whether this was real.

"I see you too, Y/N," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "More than you know."

You stared up at him, your heart pounding as he stepped closer. His face was inches from yours now, his gaze flickering down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. And in that quiet space, where words seemed unnecessary, Hyunjin leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

The world faded away, and for a moment, there was only the two of you—two artists, two souls, finding each other in the midst of the chaos.

———

I hope you enjoyed this story! Requests are open!!

[jeonginsleftcheek]

The sun to me

Chapter XVI. Warmth.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 2.9k

chapter summary: a garden created from the artist's hands blossoms fully when the greatest love is the one that's shown in small acts of kindness.

warnings: mentions of a character's death

nsfw warnings: oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating

~ Masterlist for the series

~ Epilogue

🪻 Heliotrope - eternal love and devotion.

Hyunjin and you spent the last few weeks practically joined at the hip and wrapped up in each other, making up for all the time you lost during what felt like a never-ending hell of a summer.

You opened up your shop again and he came in with you every day, helping you out or painting while you worked.

You also taught him a few more garden tricks so the two of you would spend lots of time in your sunny garden too, working around your flowers.

Hyunjin understood the delicate art of growing flowers and nurturing them, and you understood the art of bringing a vision to life on an otherwise blank canvas.

It was as if you were once a singular soul who got separated into two parts somewhere in another world, and the broken soul parts wandered around all the realms until they finally reunited inside the vessels that are your bodies here on this Earth.

Hyunjin made sure you feel loved and worshipped every day and you did the same for him.

Everyone on the island was so happy to see that Hyunjin is back, Bennet and Catherine invited the two of you over for dinner, closing the restaurant as the four of you enjoyed the evening, talking, drinking and laughing.

Luna was also exceptionally happy, gifting Hyunjin a drawing of him as a prince and you as a princess, which in turn made both of your faces red and your hearts beat faster in unison.

You've never been this happy or this thankful to have someone like Hyunjin by your side.

With fingers tightly entwined, Hyunjin and you walk towards the little cove that has always been your safe haven, now back to it's original view, nothing but the deep blue sea, the sky bleeding into it; empty but never lonely.

The sound of your laughter echoes on the beach as you sit down on the rocks, your favorite spot.

Hyunjin remembers when he first arrived to the island, and tried to sketch something as simple as the waves only to hear echoes of his mother's venomous words inside his head, causing him to hurt again.

You notice he's quiet, a contemplative look on his face, as he stares off into the vastness of the sea.

You don't say anything at first, only reach out to gently touch his hand, fingertips caressing his soft skin.

Hyunjin looks at you, melancholy written on his face and reflecting in his eyes in the shape of tears that threaten to spill.

He seeks comfort in you, as he leans his cheek on your chest and wraps his arms around you tightly.

"Jinnie?"- you say it gently as your arms wrap around him and you caress his head, carding your fingers through his hair.

"I called her."- he swallows the tears.

"Her?"- you ask.

"Mhm. My mother."- he says quietly.

"Oh. How did it go?"- you ask cautiously.

"Like always."- he sniffles.

"I'm sorry."- you say as you kiss the top of his head and he presses himself closer to you as his hands grip at your shirt.

"It's okay."- he looks up at you, a single tear sliding down his cheek and you catch it with your thumb.

"I'll be okay."- he repeats.

"You will, Jinnie. And I'll be here to help you."- you smile gently at him, the kindness he always associated you with is there, touching him warmly, keeping him safe from all the harm.

"My flower."- he smiles and sits up to kiss you lovingly and you return the kiss with the same sentiment, pouring all your love into him.

"I- I wanna go visit Isaac today."- he says as the two of you part and you keep caressing his face. "I'm ready to say goodbye to him."

"Okay, we can go pick some flowers up from the shop and bring it to him?"- you suggest.

"Okay."- Hyunjin nods and you kiss his forehead before the two of you get up and make your way to the shop.

When you finally start making your way to the graveyard, the walk there is quiet.

Hyunjin is holding the bouquet you made in one hand and in the other, he holds your hand.

Your thumb is constantly moving on his skin in a subtle attempt to soothe him and he squeezes your hand shortly to let you know that he feels your warmth.

"Here we are."- you say as you stand in front of Isaac's gravestone.

Hyunjin stands quietly for a few moments before he kneels down to place the flowers on the grave.

You can see that he's struggling not to cry so you kneel down next to him, grabbing his hand gently.

"Goodbye, Isaac."- he says, his voice breaking as tears start sliding down his cheeks and he lets himself cry.

The two of you stay there for a few minutes, just quietly holding onto each other and reminiscing about the man who had helped Hyunjin in more ways than he even knows it.

He wishes he could see Isaac one last time, he wishes that he at least had a few more moments with the warm man who was sort of a father figure to him, someone as kind to him as you are.

When you come back home, Hyunjin finds himself falling into your arms, his face buried in your chest as you comfort his saddened heart.

The little owl he had whittled together with Isaac still stands on your shelf, watching over both of you as you hold onto each other tightly, finding everything you ever needed inside the loving embrace.

"I have something for you."- Hyunjin smiles gently, he had barely unpacked his things a few days ago, both of you too infatuated in each other that you forgot about mundane tasks such as that one.

"Oh? What is it?"- you look at him as you sit on the bed.

Hyunjin opens up a drawer, one he filled with his things and takes out a little lavender box out of the back.

"I got this made for us."- he adds as he makes his way to you.

"What is it?"- you giggle as your heart speeds up.

"Open it, my love."- he says as he gives it to you.

You feel giddy as you slowly open up the box, a gasp leaving your lips when you see two matching necklaces with a heliotrope flower pendant.

"H-Hyunjin."- your eyes water as your heart skips a beat.

"I'm sure you know the meaning."- he smiles, his hand on your cheek, a gentle and sweet touch of his fingertips makes your eyes flutter.

"It's a promise of eternal love."- you whisper.

"Mhm. I promise to love you forever, my muse."- he says as the two of you gravitate towards each other, lips pressing together, soft and passionate against each other.

"Let me help you put it on."- Hyunjin smiles when you part.

"What about this one?"- you grab the black stone one that he gave you before.

"You can layer?"- he pouts cutely, puppy eyes staring at you as his eyebrows shoot up.

"Sure."- you laugh at his cuteness, pinching his cheek shortly before you turn to let him put the necklace on you.

"Help me with mine."- Hyunjin says and you do so, the matching necklaces pretty on both of you, the meaning of them making them even more beautiful to the lovers whose necks they adorn.

"So pretty."- you whisper, tracing his collarbone and the necklace and Hyunjin inhales sharply, even the smallest touches by you make him weak.

You bite on your lip and gently push him down into the pillows and he gives you a cheeky grin.

You swing your leg over him, lowering your middle on his, your core pressed against him, and his hips lift up into you on their own accord, hands on your thighs instantly as he squeezes and caresses the exposed flesh.

"Jinnie."- you keep biting on your lip as you slowly drag your core against him.

"Mm, darling."- Hyunjin's eyes become hazy instantly as the two of you grind into each other.

You lean down to kiss his neck and he throws his head back, squeezing your hips as you attack his skin with licks and bites, leaving purple bruises where you suck on him and he whines, becoming harder under your wet core.

Your hands roam on his stomach and waist as you lift his shirt up and touch him wherever you can reach, making sure to caress every spot of his exposed skin, to worship him and claim him as yours.

Hyunjin grunts in the pure state of bliss as he lets you kiss him and touch him wherever you want, grinding his hard cock up into you.

You slide his shirt off and your lips travel from his neck to his chest and nipples, down to his toned stomach and waist, down to the happy trail disappearing into his boxers.

"Y/n..."- Hyunjin moans as you hover over his bulge.

"Yes lover?"- you give him a little smirk.

"Please touch me."- he whines and you giggle, leaning down to kiss the place where a wet patch formed on his boxers, kissing the tip of his cock as it twitches against your puckered lips.

"You're gonna tease me, aren't you?"- he smirks as he lets you spread his legs, your hands caressing his inner thighs.

"Mhm."- you mumble, your tongue pressing into his clothed tip.

"Ah..."- Hyunjin moans quietly and you lift up a little just to slide his boxers off.

His cock is hard and heavy when it slaps against his stomach and you whimper at the delicious sight.

His hand comes down to grab his cock and you lick your lips when you see his long fingers wrapped around his length like that, teasing himself right in front of your face.

"You wanted to tease me but you seem speechless right now."- he gives you a smirk.

"Can you blame me?"- you smirk back, getting into a more comfortable position.

He chuckles shortly, thumbing his slit as you bring your face closer to him and Hyunjin sucks in his bottom lip, his brows furrowed as he presses his tip on your lips.

"Open up, love."- he says gently and your eyes flutter as you open your mouth and take his tip in, his hands gathering your hair as he holds it in a makeshift ponytail.

You suck on the tip a little, teasing him with your tongue and the way he looks at you in that moment has you squeezing your thighs together.

His eyes are narrowed down on you, plump lips parted and cheeks rosy, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.

You feel greedy and slide down, taking more of him in and Hyunjin moans as he grips your hair.

"That's it, take it. Good girl."- he smirks and you whimper around him, sending vibrations through his body and making his cock twitch in your mouth.

The heaviness and warmth of him inside your mouth drives you wild as you start sucking on him and bobbing your head faster.

Hyunjin's lips release pretty moans as you please him, the taste of his pre-cum on your tongue is sweet to you and you grip the base of his cock, working what you can't fit with your hand, as your other hand plays with his sensitive balls.

"Oh my god, y/n! Fuck, just like that!"- Hyunjin curses, losing himself in the pleasure as he arches his hips up into you, making you gag a little.

You don't mind as you slide down further, his tip hitting the back of your throat, your eyes water and you swallow around him making him whine as he buries his fingers in your hair and grips you harshly.

You moan around him and he looks down at you.

"You wanna try taking all of it? I wanna see my cock disappear in your mouth, darling."- he looks at you lustfully, his free hand brushing against your cheek.

"Mm."- you moan around him again as your eyes flutter, your arousal pooling on your panties and you desperately need some kind of friction.

Hyunjin bites on his lip again, red and swollen from sinking his teeth into it repeatedly as he helps you slide down on his length, until your nose is buried in his pubes and you inhale, trying to relax your throat.

"Mm, look at you. You take it so well, baby."- he whines and you're going crazy, rubbing your thighs together as he fucks up into your mouth slowly.

"Shit, feels so good!"- he moans as you meet his thrusts, sucking him off faster.

You keep whimpering and gagging around him, tears now sliding down your cheeks and Hyunjin can see your legs pressed together as you look for relief.

"Is my flower feeling needy?"- he asks with a smirk and you whine.

Finally, he pulls you off his cock gently, his hand still on your hair and the other cups your chin.

You cough a little as you look up at him teary-eyed.

"I won't deny you, love."- he gives you a smile as he beckons you closer to him.

You hover over him and he gently takes your face in his hands, kissing you passionately as he wipes away your tears.

Suddenly, you're flipped over on your tummy as Hyunjin presses your body into the bed and hovers over you, his cock pressed against your ass.

You gasp and grip onto the pillows as he holds your wrists down.

Hyunjin's lips are on the back of your neck and your shoulders as he kisses you and slides his hands on your back and waist down to your ass, grabbing it and massaging the plushy flesh.

"All of this is mine."- he kisses your neck again, hands grabbing at your hips to lift your pelvis up.

He spreads your legs and you whine as you hold onto the pillow.

"All yours, Jinnie."- you say as you feel the tip of his cock caress your folds.

You clench instantly, begging to be filled up as he teases you, pressing his hardness into your clit.

"I'm gonna give you all my love, darling."- you hear the smirk in his voice as he slowly pushes in.

Rarely practicing this position, it makes you feel dirty in a good way as Hyunjin starts snapping his hips into your ass, his hands splayed on your hips, holding on tightly, his cock is buried even deeper inside you than in any other position.

"Ah, ah, Jinnie, ah!"- you moan constantly, your mind becoming a cloud drifting in the wind as you let go completely, giving into Hyunjin as he pistons his hips into you fast and hard.

The sinful sounds of skin slapping skin, the feeling of his cock ravaging you, his balls smacking against your ass have you drooling on your pillow as your legs tremble, your toes curling and pussy clenching around his length.

"Let go, baby."- he knows you're there, his hands on your waist as he pushes you down on his cock harder.

"Mm, Hyunjin!"- you moan out his name as you cream around his cock and Hyunjin's hips stutter.

"Ah, shit!"- he grunts, fucking into you sloppily as he shoots his cum deep inside you, riding his high as he smacks your ass.

"Jinnie!"- you whine before he pulls out of you slowly, and turns you around easily, your legs falling open for him as his cum drips out of you.

He leans down between your legs and starts eating you out instantly, your thighs shake as you moan loudly and grip onto his hair.

"Mm."- he moans into you, eyes fluttering as he laps at you, swallowing your cum mixed together like it was the sweetest thing he ever tasted.

"You taste like honey."- he kisses your folds and your clit and you let out a chuckle.

The tip of his tongue teases your nub and you whimper.

"Ah, sensitive!"

"I'm sorry, are you okay my flower?"- he lifts up immediately, hand cupping your cheek.

"Yes, yes, more than okay."- you smile as you wrap your arms around him and bring him closer to you.

You kiss him sweetly, the taste of him and you lingers on your tongues as they dance together slowly and sensually, your bodies arching into each other, seeking the warmth they provide.

"You wanna redecorate the house?"- you ask when the two of you part and Hyunjin bursts into laughter.

"That's what you were thinking about while I was inside you?"- he asks with a grin.

"No, I couldn't think then but my thoughts came back now."- you say and he giggles.

"Alright, let's redecorate."- he gives you a sweet smile, leaning down to kiss your cheeks.

And a few weeks later, after lots of hard work, you had managed to re-paint your kitchen, of course again in the warm signature pastel yellow you loved so much, but the living room was now a shade of lavander, just like the heliotrope flower that symbolizes the depth of your love.

Paintings that both of you made adorned your walls now, except one wall that you left blank, to fill it up with a work of art you'd create together.

You weren't alone anymore, and neither was Hyunjin, destiny had brought you together, and the two of you sat at each side of the blank wall, painting together for days to make a beautiful mosaic of blooming flowers, a luscious garden that represents your love blossoming as you got closer and closer to the middle of the wall, where you had met with your paintbrushes and matching smiles, sealing your fate with a kiss and a flower you created together.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger @lixies-favorite-cookie @linavc @quokkacidal @thisaintredwine @m00gyu @yaorzu-blog @skzfelixlove @tajannah-price1 @puccaaak @aft2rsexs @xxkissesforchanniexx @aprilmaejune77 @lilmeowneow @stayjinnie @astrobebba @danihwang882 @kaysungshine @nchhuhi @1810cl @chartrucewhore @babigriin @jisuperboard @alisonyus @minluvly @instantsoulnight @kkamismom12 @its-stayville-forever @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @lemonadeboun @eastjonowhere

[seongwars]

away with the wind | xiii

Pairing: dragonrider!Seonghwa x ex-dragonrider!Reader AU: dragon rider au | strangers -> lovers Summary: A spinal injury forces you to retire from dragon racing, and with it, the end of your engagement to Song Mingi. Park Seonghwa, a rising star in the world of dragon racing and heir to the prestigious House Park, seeks a new dragon after an unfortunate accident on the skyway. As the saying goes, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Word Count: 7K Warnings: violence, kidnapping, swearing, mentions of child kidnapping, descriptions of dragon body parts and anatomy

Fic Masterlist

a/n: it's back baybeeee! blame my other wips and forget me not

Kang Yeosang was born as the illegitimate son of Lord Jung Dae Han, a secret hidden beneath the grandeur of the Jung estate. From the day of his birth, Yeosang’s existence was a stain on Lord Jung's otherwise pristine reputation, a reminder of a moment of weakness. He was never publicly acknowledged, but his presence couldn’t be entirely erased either. Instead, he was raised in the shadows of the estate, caught between two worlds—neither fully accepted as a highborn, nor allowed to escape the clutches of his father's influence.

From a young age, Yeosang lived in the shadow of his half-brother, a legitimate son born from Lord Jung’s marriage to Lady Eunji. His half-brother thrived under the family’s spotlight, basking in the praise and admiration that came with his status. 

Yeosang spent most of his days confined to his small, drafty quarters in the servant’s wing of the estate, the only window to the outside world being the one overlooking the grand training grounds. He would often press his forehead against the cold glass, staring longingly at the sight of his half-brother, Wooyoung, and his dragon. 

To Yeosang, they represented everything he could never have: freedom, power, and control. But despite these differences, Wooyoung saw Yeosang as his brother, regardless of the circumstances of his birth. 

He had always had a love for dragons–the beasts were integral to Auroran culture and everyday life. Yet he was never allowed one of his own as Lord Jung’s bastard son. It wasn’t until he was out exploring the woods that he stumbled upon a wounded fledgling. The sight of the small, vulnerable creature awakened something within him—a deep instinct to help, to heal. 

Over the following weeks, he nursed it back to health, using whatever resources he could gather. With no formal training, Yeosang relied on his curiosity and keen observation, learning about the dragon’s biology and how it responded to different herbs and remedies.

He spent countless hours watching over the dragon, his mind racing with questions that no one around him could answer. Why did certain wounds heal faster with specific treatments? How did the dragon's body recover so quickly compared to other creatures? It was as if its very biology defied the natural order, and the more Yeosang observed, the more obsessed he became.

He became relentless, studying deep into the night, sketching diagrams of the dragon’s structure, its wings, the intricate patterns of its scales. He recorded every healing factor, every reaction to different stimuli. His experiments became more ambitious, as he searched for any way to unlock the secrets of the creature's rapid regeneration.

But his secret couldn’t last forever.

One evening, while he was tending to the creature in the hidden alcove where he had kept it safe, disaster struck. One of Lady Eunji’s maids stumbled upon the dragon, her scream echoing through the hallways as she fled to alert her mistress. Yeosang’s heart sank when he heard the commotion. By the time he reached the creature again, it was too late.

Lady Eunji, in her cold, calculating manner, ordered the dragon’s immediate disposal. She considered it a threat—dangerous, uncontrollable, and far too valuable to leave in the hands of someone as inexperienced as Yeosang. Her maids and guards moved quickly, hauling the weakened creature from its hiding place. Yeosang’s protests were drowned out by the commands of the estate, his words falling on deaf ears as they dragged the dragon away.

Desperate and grief-stricken, Yeosang chased after them, pleading, but Lady Eunji’s decision was final. In a last-ditch effort, he gathered what he could of the dying creature, using everything he had learned to try and resuscitate it.

But his attempts were futile.

The dragon’s breaths grew shallower, the light in its eyes fading. Yeosang could feel its life slipping away with every agonizing second. His heart broke as he knelt beside it, tears streaming down his face as he realized he was losing it. Despite all his knowledge, all his efforts, he was powerless to save the creature that had been his world for such a short period of time.

When the dragon finally stilled beneath his hands, Yeosang was left with an unbearable silence. He had failed. The weight of that failure crushed him, and something in him shifted. No longer was it mere fascination driving him—it was an insatiable hunger for control, for the kind of power that could defy death itself. In that moment of grief, Yeosang made a vow. He would never let this happen again.

And if that meant crossing boundaries others feared to cross—if that meant venturing into dark, so be it.

˖

Your limbs felt impossibly heavy, like they were shackled by invisible chains, and your vision wavered, fading in and out of focus. The sharp sting at the base of your neck pulsed in rhythm with the buzzing implant, all thanks to Yeosang’s doing. It hummed beneath your skin, sending erratic shocks through your nervous system, muddling your thoughts and sapping your strength.

A shadow moved over you, and before you could react, a strong arm slid around your waist, hoisting you up. Instinctively, you attempted to fight back, but your movements were slow, sluggish, as if your body was no longer your own. Forcing yourself to focus, you recognized the face in your haze—Mingi. 

“Stop resisting,” Mingi hissed, his grip tightening as you struggled against him. 

“Put me down, you motherfucker,” you slurred, the words barely coherent as you tried to wriggle free, your body useless and uncooperative. Every movement felt like it was happening in slow motion, your muscles heavy with the weight of the sedative still pumping through your veins.

Before you could get another word out, Mingi made a sharp turn, yanking you both into the shadows of a narrow side hallway. His hand clamped over your mouth as the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the stone corridor. Cromer’s guards rushed past, their boots a steady thud that reverberated in your ears.

“We need to get you out of here,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm, like he was trying to comfort you. All you could manage was a faint, frustrated sigh as you sagged in his arms, no longer able to fight him. 

Another set of footsteps echoed from around the corner, breaking through the fog in your mind. Mingi stiffened, then ducked into a nearby room, quickly closing the door behind you both. 

"Why are you helping me?" you whispered, pulling yourself away from Mingi. Your voice trembled, exhaustion weighing you down, but you still managed to create some distance between you. Suspicion clawed at your mind. Why him? Why now?

You watched his lips part, the hesitation so thick you could feel it, as if he were weighing every word before it left his mouth. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and strained, like each word pained him to admit.

"Because Yeosang is going to blow this place up."

The revelation hit you, leaving you momentarily breathless. "Blow this place up?" you repeated, your disbelief breaking through your exhaustion. "With that thing he created?"

“He didn’t create that thing from nothing.” He paused, his gaze hardening as memories you couldn't see flitted across his face.

“He harvested it—piece by piece.”

A dragon, pieced together like a grotesque puzzle, created for destruction. Every part of it, from the scales to the bones, had once belonged to a living, breathing creature. Now, those pieces had been fused together into something far more terrifying, twisted into Yeosang’s vision of power.

“How…why would he do that?” you whispered, a sickening feeling rising in your chest. 

Mingi sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Everything he’s done—the experiments, trafficking, using a lab as a front for recruiting riders—it’s all tied to his twisted vision. And now, with the military closing in, he’s wiping everything clean.”

The breath left your lungs in a sharp gasp. "So, then what makes me any different from the kids?" The thought sent a wave of revulsion through you. "Why me? What does he need me for?"

Mingi’s expression darkened, his tone heavy with regret. He hesitated, as if the words physically pained him. 

“He needed someone who was grounded, someone who couldn’t fly anymore.”

Your chest tightened as the implications sank in. “Because of my accident,” you whispered, bile rising in your throat.

“He believes that if he can show anyone—regardless of background or limitations—can control dragons, it’ll spark a war for control over dragonkind.”

“That’s what the neural link system is for,” he continued. “It allows pilots to communicate directly with dragons without needing to mount them. Yeosang’s figured out how to create a direct connection between two entirely different nervous systems.”

A shiver ran down your spine as you processed his words. The idea that you had been that close to losing control, that close to becoming one of Yeosang’s puppets, sent a wave of nausea rolling through you. Your hand trembled as you touched the back of your neck again, fingers brushing over the skin where the implant lay beneath.

“If you knew about this, why didn’t you say anything?” Your voice rose, trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief. 

Mingi’s face twisted with frustration, his voice rising defensively. “Do you think I wanted any of this to happen? I was scared, okay? Of what Yeosang could do to everyone! He’s not just one man—he’s a system. I didn’t know how to fight that!”

“Don’t you dare,” you shot back, venomously. “You weren’t scared. You could have stopped this. You could have warned everyone. But instead, you sat there and reaped the benefits while Yeosang pulled the strings. You’re not just complicit—you’re part of the problem.”

“Y/N—”

“Save it,” you spat, cutting him off. “You’re no better than he is. You let people suffer because you could care less about anyone other than yourself.”

Mingi’s face paled, his eyes wide with guilt as the weight of your words crashed over him. He opened his mouth to argue, but the words died on his lips. He knew you were right—there was no defense, no justification for the choices he had made. 

But then, after a long, painful silence, Mingi’s voice broke through, quieter than before.

“You’re right.” His head hung low, the fight gone from him. 

“I wanted so badly to be at the top, to be someone—someone important—that I didn’t see how far I’d fallen. I know I can’t undo what’s been done, but I can try to make it right. Please, let me help now, let me get you out. I’m not asking for forgiveness—I know I don’t deserve that. But we can stop him and put an end to this.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy with the weight of his admission. He was a man who had failed, who had let his own selfish ambitions cloud his judgment. But now, he was standing before you, stripped of his pride, begging for a chance to make amends.

Whether or not you could trust him again, you weren’t sure. But the thought of taking down Yeosang without Mingi’s knowledge and help seemed impossible.

“How did you find me?” you finally asked. 

Mingi paused for a moment, his expression softening as if he knew how fragile you felt. “Cirrus was all over the news,” he explained, his hands going up in a slight defensive gesture, as if to calm any panic you might feel from the mention of the dragon’s name. 

“She was out of control. I’ve never seen her like that before. That’s when I knew…something had to have happened to you. I knew I had to hurry, so I got here as fast as I could.” 

“Hey, bastard,” Mingi growled from the shadows, his voice low and dangerous.

“You better get out before the authorities shut down your little operation. Her dragon’s about to bring the whole place down.”

Yeosang froze mid-motion, irritation flickering across his face as he turned toward the voice. He wasn’t easily rattled, though. After a moment, he narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms with deliberate calm. 

“Come to play the hero?” he sneered, mocking disdain dripping from every word. 

Mingi stepped forward, unbothered by the taunt, his voice cold and steady. “No. But I’ll need a dragon after this suspension, and you can’t afford to lose everything you’ve worked for.”

The room seemed to close in around them, tension thickening in the air. Yeosang’s sharp gaze calculated every angle, aware of how precarious his position was. Outside, the walls trembled under the pressure of Cirrus’ fury, the dragon’s roars reverberating through the lab. Time was running out.

“Where’s Wooyoung?” Yeosang asked, his voice sharp, as if he could regain control by asking the right question.

“Up top, containing the chaos,” Mingi replied with a lazy yawn, feigning disinterest.

“Look, since I’m already here, I’ll move her to where the kids are,” he offered casually, though his tone was measured and deliberate. 

“You get your dragon out. It’s a win for you.”

“I'm not negotiating with you,” Yeosang snapped, but there was a faint tremor in his voice—a hint of uncertainty that hadn’t been there before.

Mingi’s calm demeanor disappeared in an instant, replaced by a menacing intensity. He stepped closer, towering over the doctor, his eyes cold as steel. 

“I put my neck on the line by piloting one of your experiments, testifying before the Council, and even sold a dream to those kids you wanted to recruit,” he growled, each word laced with barely restrained anger.

“It cost me everything. So either you let me get her out of here, or you lose everything.”

Yeosang’s composure cracked, hesitation flashing across his features as he glanced around the lab. The walls continued to shake, cracks forming in the concrete as Cirrus grew more intense by the second. He could feel the weight of Mingi’s words, the truth that he had no time, no room for error.

Finally, with a reluctant nod, Yeosang backed down, knowing there was no other choice. “I’ll send you the coordinates,” he muttered, his voice stripped of its earlier defiance.

Mingi gave a curt nod, his victory sealed, but there was no satisfaction in it—just the bitter truth that they were both in too deep.

“Yeosang cares about that dragon more than anything,” Mingi muttered, his jaw clenched. “The other hybrid dragons, the kids—they're just a means to an end.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the realization hitting you like a punch to the gut. The children weren’t just pawns in Yeosang’s sick experiment—they were victims. And now, you knew, you were meant to be next. The neural dock you’d been strapped into wasn’t just some twisted trap—it was a gateway into the experiment’s mind, a bridge Yeosang intended for you to cross, whether you survived or not.

“We have to find them.”

“We will,” Mingi replied, his voice firm. “But first, we need to get you out of here.”

Without wasting another moment, you and Mingi bolted down the narrow, dimly lit corridors of the lab. Your footsteps echoed through the metallic halls, the blare of alarms and flashing emergency lights heightening the sense of danger. Every second felt like it was borrowed, the urgency of escape hanging over you both like a noose tightening with each step.

Mingi was in front, his broad frame cutting through the smoke and chaos, but suddenly he skidded to a halt, throwing his arm out to shield you. You stumbled, barely catching yourself as the corridor plunged into a chilling silence. Your heart pounded in your ears as you followed his gaze, your pulse spiking when you saw what had stopped him.

Wooyoung. 

The night thrummed with tension as the rhythmic beat of dragon wings cut through the cool air. A low rumble from the soldiers’ dragons reverberated through the ground, matching the palpable anticipation. The military had sealed off the lab, blocking every known exit, but it wasn’t enough—not for Seonghwa. His chest tightened with each passing second, knowing you were still trapped inside. Time was slipping away, and every second that passed felt like an eternity.

Behind San, his dragon Stelle let out a deep, guttural growl, the sound vibrating through the tense atmosphere like a warning. Her massive wings flexed and her glowing eyes were fixed on the steel fortress ahead. Around them, other dragons shifted, their muscles tense, nostrils flaring as they sensed the looming danger just as keenly as their riders.

Seonghwa’s fingers twitched with impatience, his eyes darting between the hologram and the lab’s doors. He wanted to move, to charge in and tear the place apart if it meant finding you. But San, experienced and methodical, stood firm. Rushing in blind would only spell disaster. Seonghwa forced himself to stay still as San explained the plan.

He stood in front of the holographic display, eyes sharp with focus as he traced the layout of the lab. “The main entrance is a trap,” he said, his voice calm but commanding. 

“It’s heavily fortified, packed with security bots and sensors. If we go in that way, we’ll be flagged immediately.”

Before anyone could respond, Yunho jogged up, phone in hand. “This might help,” he called, catching their attention. He synced his phone to the hologram, and the lab’s structure shifted, expanding as new data merged with the layout.

"Here," Yunho began, gesturing to the updated hologram. “It’s not perfect, but this gives us a clearer idea of the structure from when I was inside during the tour.”

“I don’t know how deep the lab runs underground,” he continued, his voice tense with focus, “but I know they’ve been using this loading dock.” He pointed to a spot on the hologram where large transport crates were stacked. 

“They’ve been loading and unloading juvenile dragons through here.”

San studied the hologram closely, brow furrowed in concentration. “And you’re sure this dock is still operational? Any recent activity?”

Yunho’s gaze didn’t waver from the projection, memories of his recent investigation flashing in his mind. “Possibly,” he replied, calm but urgent. 

“When Y/N and I checked the site, there were clear signs. The cargo crates were still warm from dragon fire, and the claw marks on the containers were fresh. It’s the only active entry point we know for sure.”

San nodded, his mind quickly piecing together the next steps. “We’ll send the tactical team through the dock. They’ll neutralize any immediate threats, and once we get the all-clear, the rest of us move in.”

Around them, snipers took their positions on the rooftops, while soldiers fanned out, covering every angle of the perimeter.

“We need to be smart. Medical team, be on standby,” San added, shooting a glance toward the medics stationed near the dragons. The unspoken urgency lingered in the air as he turned back to the team. 

“Prepare for breach.”

˖

"Yeosang?" Wooyoung whispered harshly as he stepped closer to where his brother sat, eyes cast downward. He could see the faint bruises along Yeosang’s arms, subtle reminders of Eunji's cruelty. A surge of anger rose in his chest, his fists clenching involuntarily. It wasn’t fair.

Yeosang shifted slightly, his voice quiet, almost broken. “Nothing.”

That was always his answer. Nothing. As if the marks on his skin weren’t evidence enough. As if Wooyoung’s mother’s cutting words didn’t wound him just as deeply.

“You don’t have to lie to me. I know what mother said.”

Yeosang’s gaze finally lifted, meeting his brother’s. His eyes were dark, swirling with emotions Wooyoung couldn’t fully grasp—anger, hurt, and something else. Resignation, maybe.

“It doesn’t matter. No one’s ever going to see me like they see you.”

"That’s not true," Wooyoung snapped, frustration sharpening his tone. "You’re amazing at science! Smarter than me, even."

A bitter laugh escaped Yeosang as he shook his head. “No, I’m not. You know it. They know it. That’s why they took Hope away.”

Hope. The fledgling dragon Wooyoung’s mother had ordered her guards to dispose of. He could still see the desperation in Yeosang’s eyes, the way his hands trembled as he tried to piece the dragon back together, ignoring the futility of it all.

Wooyoung had found him in the dark corner of the stables, kneeling over the broken remains of Hope. His brother’s face had been streaked with dirt and tears, his delicate fingers working frantically to reconnect scales, muscles, limbs, anything he could. It was impossible, hopeless. But Yeosang kept going.

Without hesitation, Wooyoung grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly. "I don’t care what mother thinks. You’re my brother, and I’ll protect you. No matter what."

From that moment on, Wooyoung had kept that promise. He shielded Yeosang from his mother, took the blame for things Yeosang didn’t do, and faced the cruelty of the world head-on, even if it meant taking the hits himself. It was the least he could do for a brother who had never known the love he deserved.

Even now, even if it meant betraying the people he cared about. Wooyoung knew that Yeosang deserved to win for once.

Wooyoung stepped forward with slow, deliberate movements, his face shrouded in an eerie calm, but it was the gun in his hand that made your stomach drop. It was aimed squarely at you and Mingi, the cold metal gleaming ominously in the flickering light.

“Jung Wooyoung, what are you doing?” you asked, your voice shaky but defiant. Every step backward felt like the edge of a cliff, and you weren’t sure how much farther you could go.

“I can’t let you leave,” Wooyoung repeated, his voice eerily calm, yet every word dripped with finality. His fingers curled tighter around the weapon, and you couldn’t help but flinch at the sight of him like this—so distant, so far removed from the friend you once knew.

“Are you out of your mind?” Mingi's voice was calm, but the fury beneath was undeniable. “Move,” he demanded, low and firm, his eyes locked on Wooyoung.

But Wooyoung didn’t budge. His gaze flicked from you to Mingi, calculating, but it wasn’t the playful, mischievous look you once knew—it was cold, detached, as if the person in front of you wasn’t the same Wooyoung anymore.

“I can’t do that,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. 

You searched his face, desperately hoping to find a trace of the Wooyoung you once trusted, the one who made you laugh, who always had your back. But all you saw was a man who had made his choice—a man who was willing to do whatever it took, even if it meant betraying the people he cared about.

“Wooyoung,” you said, your voice trembling despite every effort to steady yourself. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I already told you,” he said quietly, “I can’t let you leave.”

Mingi tensed beside you, but he didn’t make a move. His gaze was locked on Wooyoung, his voice steady as he spoke. 

“You don’t want to do this, Wooyoung. Put the gun down.”

“You don’t get it,” Wooyoung snapped with frustration.

“You don’t get that Yeosang’s trying to level the playing field. He’s trying to make a better world for everyone—humans and dragons.”

“By playing god?” you cut in, your frustration rising with every word.

“He’s not fixing anything! He’s manipulating life, creating things that shouldn’t exist. This isn’t about equality or justice—it’s about power. It’s about Yeosang deciding who lives and who dies, who deserves freedom and who doesn’t.”

Wooyoung’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, you saw the desperation in his eyes. “No,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

“You’d understand, Y/N. You, of all people, should get it. I’m talking about giving people who can’t fly a chance.”

You froze, his words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. For a moment, the anger burned away, replaced by something more painful, more personal. Memories of the fall, of being told you'd never race again, flashed through your mind. It wasn’t just your body that had been broken that day—it was your dream, your freedom.

“They told you that because of one accident, you couldn’t race anymore,” Wooyoung continued, his voice soft but insistent. “That’s the kind of world we’re living in. One mistake, and you’re grounded. Forever.”

His eyes softened with something that looked like hope, a hope you hadn’t seen in him for so long. 

“But Yeosang’s the only one brave enough to change that.”

Your chest tightened painfully, the weight of his words sinking in. Wooyoung wasn’t just defending Yeosang—he was defending the dream of a world where people like you wouldn’t be cast aside, where second chances were real. But even as you understood, you couldn’t let go of the truth.

“But at what cost?” you shot back, stepping forward despite the gun in his hand. 

“You think you can fix the world by tearing it apart? By playing god with lives that aren’t yours to control? That’s not salvation, Wooyoung. That’s destruction.”

Wooyoung’s expression flickered, doubt creeping into his features. The gun wavered in his hands, lowering slightly, but he didn’t drop it. 

“You don’t know what it’s like to watch someone break,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

“I watched him suffer, Y/N. Every day. My mother’s abuse, the ridicule, the way people looked at him like he didn’t belong. Yeosang doesn’t have anyone else. He’s always been alone.”

His voice cracked, and you could see the guilt in his eyes, the weight of years spent watching his brother spiral deeper into darkness. 

“This dragon... it’s all he has left,” Wooyoung continued, his voice steady, uncaring. “It’s his life’s work, his way to take back control from the people who’ve always had it. I can’t let you take that from him. Not after everything.”

“But this is wrong, Wooyoung! Yeosang isn’t trying to save anyone—he’s trying to control them. And if you go through with this, you’ll be just as lost as he is.”

Wooyoung’s face remained blank, no emotion surfacing in his expression. “Then I guess I’ll be lost too,” he said flatly, his eyes dull and detached. 

He didn’t care—not about the consequences, not about you, not even about what would happen next. He was fully committed, no matter the cost.

Your stomach dropped as you realized the truth: he wasn’t going to stop. He wasn’t hesitating. He would do whatever it took to protect Yeosang’s vision, even if it meant taking out you and Mingi.

Mingi’s voice was sharp with disbelief, though his body remained poised. “You’re really willing to kill us for this? For Yeosang’s delusions?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Wooyoung said simply, shrugging as if the idea didn’t bother him in the slightest. His finger twitched on the trigger, and your heart pounded in your chest as you stared into the face of someone who no longer cared.

In an instant, the corridor erupted into chaos.

Mingi lunged forward without warning, his hand shooting out to grab the gun just as Wooyoung fired. The deafening crack of the shot echoed violently in the confined space. 

Mingi tackled Wooyoung to the ground, their bodies crashing together with a brutal thud. The gun clattered across the floor, spinning out of reach, and you scrambled to move, your pulse racing as you struggled to process what had just happened.

“Y/N, get out of here!” Mingi shouted, as he pinned Wooyoung’s arm down, breathing heavily.

You ran, your feet pounding against the cold floor as you darted down the corridor. But as you fled, something flickered in the distance. A glint, subtle but unmistakable, caught your eye. You slowed, just for a heartbeat, scanning the shadows ahead. And then you saw it—a rifle’s scope, reflecting in the dim light.

“Aurora Military! Put your hands where we can see them!” The command rang out, sharp and commanding, freezing you in place. The tension in the air thickened, like a weight pressing down on your chest. Out of the darkness, soldiers materialized, their rifles trained on you with unyielding precision.

Your heart pounded in your ears, blood roaring through your veins. Mingi, battered and bruised from his confrontation with Wooyoung, slowly raised his hands. He cast you a glance—tired, but filled with relief. You could see it in his eyes, the silent understanding that the fight, for now, was over.

Despite the devastation in his eyes, Wooyoung complied, rising to his knees with a slow, deliberate motion, his hands raised in surrender. The defiance that once burned so fiercely within him was gone, leaving behind only a hollow shadow of the man you once knew. And yet, as he stared at you, something darker flickered in his gaze—something far more foreboding than the destruction surrounding you.

“You think this is over?” he asked quietly, his voice eerily calm in the face of defeat. 

The soldiers moved in, their steps precise and practiced, but the weight of Wooyoung’s words hung thick in the air, stopping you cold. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him—there was something in the way he held himself, the way his lips twitched with a bitter smile that left you paralyzed.

A deep sense of dread settled in your chest, growing heavier with each passing second. You exchanged a glance with Mingi, whose tension mirrored your own. He sensed it too—the feeling that something far worse was about to unfold.

“You think stopping me will change anything?” His voice lowered, almost a whisper now, yet it cut through the air like a blade. 

“You think you’ve won because I’m on my knees? Because Yeosang’s not here?”

He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with something terrifyingly close to pity. “You don’t understand, Y/N. This... this is only the beginning.”

Seonghwa paced back and forth, his eyes darting toward the entrance of the building every few seconds, anxiety thrumming his chest. The recon team had gone in what felt like hours ago, and still, there was no sign of you. His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, his heart racing with a mixture of fear and impatience.

He glanced at the soldiers standing nearby, but they offered no reassurance. The silence was unbearable, and every passing second without word from the team felt like an eternity. Seonghwa’s mind raced with worst-case scenarios, every possible outcome flashing before his eyes. What if they didn’t make it? What if you were still trapped inside? What if—

Suddenly, a commotion from the entrance caught his attention. Seonghwa’s heart leapt into his throat as the recon team emerged, and there—being guided by two soldiers and…Mingi—you appeared. Disheveled, bruised, and leaning on one of the soldiers for support, but alive.

Without thinking, Seonghwa sprinted toward you, the moment his eyes locked on you, everything else faded away. The fear, the waiting, the uncertainty—it all vanished in the face of sheer relief.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice breaking as he reached you. His arms enveloped you before you even had a chance to fully register his presence. He pulled you close, holding you tight as though you might disappear if he let go.

Your legs gave out beneath you, and you collapsed into Seonghwa’s waiting arms, heart racing but grateful to be alive. His grip was firm, grounding you in the chaos as your breath came in ragged gasps.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, his voice soft with emotion. You could hear the relief as his hand gently cupped the back of your head, his touch a silent reassurance that you were here, alive.

As soon as Seonghwa’s arms wrapped around you, the overwhelming relief hit you like a wave, and you buried your face against his chest. The scent of him, familiar and comforting, grounded you after the chaos. 

“I’m okay,” you whispered, though your body told a different story. The adrenaline was fading, leaving only exhaustion and pain in its wake. A sharp pain throbbed in your side, reminding you that you weren’t out of danger yet.

“My neck, Seonghwa. My neck!” your voice faltered.

Seonghwa pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes scanning your face, searching for any sign of injury. His brows furrowed in concern, and without hesitation, he called out over his shoulder. 

“She needs medical attention, now!”

Your breaths were ragged, and the words spilled out of you in between gasps, desperate to make them understand. “Yeosang–ow,” you winced, instinctively raising a hand to touch your neck, where a sharp sting remained, “Implanted something in my neck." 

The pain shot through you again, but you fought through it, trying to get the words out faster.

“H-He’s planning to blow up the building,” you rasped, panic creeping into your voice. You could still picture Yeosang's cold, calculating gaze as he revealed his twisted plan. 

“He has a dragon he created,” you added breathlessly, your thoughts racing in terror.

Seonghwa’s grip tightened at the revelation, his usually calm, composed face flickered with something darker—anger, fear, or maybe both. The medic worked diligently beside you, but you barely noticed the bandages being wrapped or the sting of antiseptic on your wounds.

“He’s hiding the kids...Jinsik might be with them,” you gasped, your breath growing more shallow with each word.

"But Mingi has the coordinates. You have to save the kids."

Speaking felt like an uphill battle, each word feeling heavier than the last. You could feel yourself weakening, unsure if it was from the panic, the pain, or the weight of the revelation you had just shared. Time was running out.

The medic glanced up from your wounds, her hands still working quickly but efficiently. “We need to get you to the hospital,” she said, her tone firm. “Now.”

“But—” you began, a sharp pain shooting through your side, cutting your protest short. You winced, the world around you tilting slightly as the adrenaline started to fade, leaving nothing but exhaustion and agony in its wake.

The medic’s expression softened slightly, but her urgency remained. “You’ve got that implant, and it’s dangerous to keep it inside you any longer. We have to get it out.”

Seonghwa’s brow furrowed, his hand still gripping yours as he knelt beside you. “Listen to her,” he urged, his voice low, yet filled with concern. 

“We’ll take care of everything else, but you need to get that implant out, Y/N. Please.”

You wanted to argue, wanted to insist that you could still help, that the kids, Cirrus, your friends needed you—but the pain in your side was becoming unbearable, a white-hot burn that made it nearly impossible to think clearly. Seonghwa’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in reassurance.

The medic was still speaking, her voice a distant hum as Seonghwa held your hand tightly. But your focus had already drifted, drawn to the building in front of you. There was a certain ringing in your ears, an ominous buzz that filled the silence. Something was coming. 

You could feel it—a shift in the atmosphere, like the air had thickened, charged with an electric tension. A pulse of danger rippled through you, making the hairs on your arms stand on end.

The ground beneath you rumbled, a low vibration that grew stronger with each passing second. The dragons in the distance became restless, their uneasy cries cutting through the night air, as if they, too, could sense what was about to happen.

And then, without warning, a deafening roar shattered the silence.

The top of the building exploded in a violent eruption of dust and debris. Stone, metal, and glass shot out in all directions, a chaotic storm of destruction. The medic barely had time to react before she pulled you and Seonghwa into the back of the van, using the doors to shield your bodies from the shrapnel. The sound was overwhelming, a cacophony of crashing, roaring, and the sharp ping of debris against metal.

Your breath caught in your throat, your body tensing as the dust began to settle. When you opened your eyes again, you were met with a sight that made your blood run cold.

Yeosang burst out of the wreckage, his face streaked with dirt and determination and something almost manic in his eyes. But it wasn’t just Yeosang. Behind him, towering over the destruction, was the monstrous form of his hybrid creation. 

The creature was unlike anything you had ever seen. Its enormous body, a twisted amalgamation of decay and divinity, was both grotesque and hauntingly angelic. Its scales, ragged and peeling, glistened in the moonlight with an unnatural sheen like fragments of something long dead. The wings, vast and tattered, seemed like remnants of an ancient glory, now jagged and torn, as if carved by forces far beyond mortal comprehension.

It was alive—but only barely. Its body was a patchwork of sinew and rot, where flesh clung to bones that seemed far too fragile for its massive form. It's as if its very existence was a struggle between life and death.

Yet despite its grotesque appearance, there was something angelic about it, as if it had once been a creature of light now fallen from grace. Its form was a testament to both beauty and horror, an embodiment of forgotten power that stirred both awe and dread. It was as if death had touched it but hadn’t claimed it fully, leaving it suspended in a state of decayed glory.

Seonghwa tightened his embrace around you as the dragon let out another earth-shaking roar, its wings spreading wide as it loomed over the ruined building. Your heart pounded in your chest, fear and awe coursing through your veins.

From the distance, the shrill wailing of sirens grew louder. Wooyoung’s face was pressed against the window, his eyes locked onto the creature Yeosang had brought to life. Despite the chaos, despite the destruction, there was something in Wooyoung’s expression—a glint of pride, almost admiration, as he took in the sight of the dragon.

"What… what is that?" the arresting officer stammered, his voice shaking as he stared in horror at the creature before him.

Wooyoung’s gaze didn’t leave the creature, a small, grim smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His voice was quiet but filled with a certain reverence as he spoke. 

“Hope.”

The roar of engines filled the air as military-grade helicopters lifted off, their rotors chopping through the night sky, while armored vehicles rolled forward, crunching over the debris-strewn streets.

“All units, mobilize! Call for immediate backup—we need every available unit now!” San commanded as soldiers in tactical gear scrambled into position, their weapons gleaming under the harsh floodlights that bathed the battlefield. 

The streets erupted into action. Soldiers clad in high-tech combat gear moved swiftly, mounting their armored dragons—sleek, battle-ready beasts outfitted with tactical armor and advanced weaponry. The deafening roar of jet engines overhead mingled with the guttural growls of dragons as the troops prepared for war. 

Helicopters buzzed overhead, their searchlights cutting through the smoke and debris, while tanks rumbled across the broken streets, cannons aimed at the monstrous threat ahead.

“Focus on the wings!” San barked as he mounted Stelle, her massive wings unfurling with a powerful beat. His soldiers followed suit, rising into the air as their dragons launched skyward, forming an aerial assault team. 

Explosive rounds and streams of gunfire tore through the night, lighting up the sky with brilliant bursts of fire as the soldiers unleashed their arsenal on Yeosang's creation. But the monstrous dragon’s hide was tough, and seemed to grow more enraged with every assault. 

From the rear lines, military commanders coordinated drone strikes and called in air support. Fighter jets screamed overhead, releasing bombs designed to track the creature’s movement. The bombs detonated with pinpoint accuracy, sending plumes of fire and smoke into the air, but still, the dragon stood.

On the ground, chaos raged as Seonghwa crouched beside you, his expression taut with worry. The battlefield was a blur of movement—dragons roaring overhead, along with explosions of gunfire—but his focus was solely on you. Your breathing was shallow, pain radiating from the implant in your neck.

"They need to get that implant out of you. Your family is on the way to the hospital and they’ll meet you there. It’s going to be okay."

You could only nod, the pain making it hard to focus, but Seonghwa’s presence anchored you. Without a word, he leaned closer, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. His embrace lingered, as though he was pouring all his fears and unspoken desires into the silence between you: how much he wanted you to be safe, how terrified he was of losing you. 

You clung to him, fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket, desperate and unwilling to let go. Even if only for a fleeting moment, you needed to hold onto his warmth. Your heart pounded in your chest, begging for time to stop—just for this, just for the chance to keep him close.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, as if he were saying it more for himself than for you. He stepped back, his gaze never leaving yours as the medic closed the doors of the van behind you.

As the van sped off, you caught one last glimpse of Seonghwa through the small window, his figure silhouetted against the backdrop of destruction. Dragons roared in the distance, their shadows flickering in the chaos. 

The pain in your neck pulsed with every heartbeat, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead gnawed at your thoughts. Yet the warmth of Seonghwa’s embrace lingered, and despite everything, it filled you with hope that, somehow, you both would make it through this.

<< xii | xiv >>

taglist: @chngbnwf, @sunnysidesins @litolmochi @syubseokie @park-simphwa @szakias @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @maliamaiden @signingsongbird @passionandsuga @mitchii

[kirus-grotto]

Dance Of Jealousy

Deuce had never felt this way before. Why would Malleus Draconia be dancing with Yuu?

Just a little ficlet of Deuce and F!Yuu at the Masquerade

Bright cyan eyes watched adoringly from across the way as the Ramshackle prefect danced along to the music with their friends. He’d stepped away to grab himself a quick drink with full intention of bringing one to her as well. After all that had happened it was nice to see everyone, especially her, happy.

Shaking his head a bit to clear it, Deuce began to weave his way through the crowds. Masked people shuffled and danced all around him; the music bringing itself to a slow paced melody. Groups began to break apart and pair up with one another. He couldn’t help but to freeze in place as he watched Yuu immediately turn to dance with Malleus Draconia.

It was as if they were magnetized to find each other with how quickly they seemed to go to each other. The way he had an arm wrapped around her to guide her looked as if it belonged there. The soft smiles they gave each other had Deuce holding back a scowl. He couldn’t help but to squeeze the cups he still carried just a bit tighter. Dancing in a group with the others was one thing, but this…

A thought flashed through his mind of him throwing one of them at the back of Malleus’ head. Had he not known better he just might have. Instead he forced himself to turn back toward the tables to set the glasses back down, and to take a moment to gather himself. Looking back toward the pair he could see Malleus brushing a lock of Yuu’s hair back; could see him saying something that caused her to laugh. His heart began to beat faster just watching them.

’That should be me.’

His legs began to move before he could have a second thought. Keeping his eyes on Yuu he swiftly moved between the rest of the groups between him and her. Blood was pounding in his ears. He was sure Riddle would collar him if he knew what Deuce had wanted to do. Especially since it involved wanting to fight Malleus Draconia himself. In front of the entire Masquerade. Only the thought of disappointing his mom had him begin to calm himself at the last second.

“Ah, Spade.” Malleus greeted as Deuce had grabbed onto his arm. “We were just discussing you.”

“I… uh.. You were..?” The blue haired boy looked between the two.

Yuu nodded quickly. “Your timing is perfect actually!”

Deuce blinked in confusion. “But… huh??”

Malleus simply smiled at him, and gracefully passed Yuu over. “You wished to dance with her as well, yes? I won’t take up all of her time.” After a friendly pat on Deuce’s shoulder and a nod to Yuu Malleus disappeared into the crowd.

Left alone with Yuu, who’s smile alone had his anger and jealousy melting away, he sketched a bow and asked her to dance. He felt lucky that though the current song was ending, another slow song let him continue to dance with her. He felt as if he were floating. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her warm, brown eyes. He’d always loved looking into her eyes; how comforting they were. Brown eyes were always his favorite.

“I think I might love you..” the words came out without him meaning to. He’d never felt more flustered in his life than he did right there. “I mean! Er.. wait I–”

“I think I might love you too.” Yuu laughed lightly. “And I think Ace owes me 50 thaumarks.”

“Wha–huh??” He felt confusion take over as his face deepened in color. “Ace? Why?”

“He maaayyyy have bet that you wouldn’t confess while we were here,” she said.

“...Wait, how did you know?!”

“You can be pretty obvious about things sometimes.” She laughed again. “But Epel also told me that you told him your plan.”

His head whipped over to where he noticed Epel earlier. The other boy having his innocent smile on his face. Rook, Riddle, and even Malleus on either side of him wearing knowing grins of their own. “...Did… did everyone know that?!”

“I mean… I’ve been trying to drop my own hints to you for a while now. You’re just a bit oblivious.”

Deuce groaned in defeat. “I can’t believe I never caught on..”

Yuu rolled her eyes playfully at him before leaning close to place a kiss onto his lips. “How about we split my winnings and get something in town when we get back?”

His eyes widened for a moment before softening. “I still can’t believe you made a bet on me.” His hands took her face to bring it to his own for another kiss.Feeling her smile against him had him smiling too.

“...Floyd was in on it too.” She added after they pulled away.

“WHAT??”

[kutakunagasblog]

I have never sketches something faster in my entire life

The met gala Dresses ! I can draw the others if I have time

I’m sorry I made gillion tall this isn’t me

[gothicxreylover]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗’𝖘 𝖒𝖚𝖘𝖊

Dazai was the winner from my last post so here you all go!

Sorry if this isn't up to expectations but I wanted to get this out quickly. Also happy birthday Dazai as much as I dislike you.

TW- Stalking

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ

Dazai’s face was littered with tears and his cheeks glowed red. He stared down at the floor of the trashed art of his old muse. The cut-up pictures of Ango were scattered on the floor with pictures of Oda and himself.

He wiped his tears and picked up a picture of Oda off the ground. He looked at it with his blurry vision admiring Oda. He then picked up everything off the floor and started to throw the drawings and paintings away.

A couple of weeks after Oda's passing, Dazai was in his room trying to revive his hobby of painting. He sighed angrily at his creation which was not satisfying to his eyes. Out of rage, he threw the canvas to the ground which knocked down his paints. “Oh great! Just my day!” He sarcastically said as he grabbed his coat to go out to town and buy paints.

As he walked down the rainy streets and into the art store something caught his eye. A bit interested he started to follow the strange entity that caught his attention. To his surprise, it was you, a basic human trying to live their life. How strange that his interest was peeked at a basic low-life human.

Was it because of your pure beauty, He stared at you getting a closer look at your flaws. Many of them caught his eyes but yet you looked like a Rococo-style painting. How your skin was just a huge completion to your whole body. He scaredly walked away and went to buy what he needed. He couldn’t get you out of his head yet these feelings were just utterly strange and unsettling to him.

The walk back to his house was silent only the memories of you playing in his mind.

The next couple of weeks were just complete dreams of you and paintings filled with your presence. He didn’t get to see a glimpse of your face, oh how he wished to see you’re face but he’ll never see you again in a big town like this. He wouldn’t call it an obsession but a great admiration for you just like Oda.

Would you fill the hole in his heart? The whole that was created of his friend's death? Would you make his life worth living as to what had Oda done to him?

He took a walk downtown trying to clear his mind with the rain that splashed the ground. He soon saw you again. It couldn’t be you. It was a figment of his imagination. But even if it was he would still follow. He followed where you were going making sure no one saw him. He didn’t notice that his speed was going faster and faster until he bumped into you.

“I-I uh…I’m sorry” He muttered picking up what you had dropped. He picked up your small journal gazing at the small sketch of a cat. He stood up giving you the journal as he gazed at the floor. “It’s no problem,” You said as your lips turned into a soft smile. He shyly looked up and got to see your face. A face created by the gods themselves. He didn’t know how to continue this conversation as to being embarrassed.

You thanked him again and you started to make your way back to your walk. “Wait! Would you like to come over to my house? I took notice that you have a hobby of drawing.” He said not realizing how a bit strange he was, to his surprise you agreed with him.

(I'm just going to time-jump, this story is just a whole Yap)

After a couple of months of your friendship, you two grew closer than before. Dazai was still in strange behavior as his drawings and paintings were just you. To his surprise, you didn't mind being his muse and even posed a few paintings for him and dressed up. He didn't know how to comfort these strange feelings that warmed his heart.

“Belladonna…” Dazai muttered as he painted the canvas in front of him. “Oh how I can’t get rid of you out of my mind,” He said to himself carefully making sure your perfection wasn’t missed.

“One day I'll tell you these strong desires to be with you. But yet it seems that faith would have to bring us back again…like before

[your-local-hoemie]

Can i request childe and diluc with shy reader? Reader hides behind them whenever someone approaches them and gets flustered easily!

Your wish in my command dear anon~

The more I write about Childe the more my conflicted feelings towards him grow. Like I hate that dumb donkey but I love him so much aaAAAAAA.

Warnings: fluff, gn!reader, swearing? I didn’t check through so I can’t remember if there is or not 💀, not proof-read.

Character: Childe, Diluc.

Childe~

God he finds everything about you precious

The second you’re out in public and you hide behind him when someone decides to ask for directions

Oh boy

He’s kicking, screaming, crying, giggling-

Ok I’ll stop

But seriously his little heart can’t handle it!

He knows how anxious you get in public but he’ll still “accidentally” pull you into scenarios where you find yourself tripping over your words and slinking behind him

He just finds it adorable!

And something about you seeking his protection even if it’s from unwanted social interaction boost his never ending ego~

He loves the feeling of being your big strong boyfriend who can protect you no matter what!

But if it genuinely makes you too uncomfortable he’ll stop!

If you suddenly find yourself getting overwhelmed and his silhouette doesn’t provide enough concealment he’ll promptly excuse himself from whatever he was previously doing and take you away to a calmer, quieter place!

Being a big brother and a surprisingly good one at that he’s more than used to dealing with this kind of stuff!

He also finds it a strangely refreshing change compared to his usual charismatic and outgoing personality

He always makes sure to remind you that you have nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about!

He genuinely finds you so precious and he adores everything you do so please never be anything but yourself around him!

Diluc~

He’s such a sweetheart!

I can not emphasise how much of a gentleman he is ;-;

The second he notices you going into yourself and hiding behind him he’ll immediately excuse himself and take you somewhere else!

He’s used to talking to people and dealing with social events

He has to be!

But he knows how overwhelming and uncomfortable it can be when put into those situations

He’d be lying if he didn’t find it absolutely adorable though!

He just wants to scoop you up in his arms and surround you so you always feel safe and secure~

The first time you did it to him after establishing your feelings for each other he just kinda stood there for a moment like

??

Where’d Y/N go?

When he felt your hands clinging onto his arm like he was your only life line

Oh boy

His face matched his hair istg

He knows he’s strong

And he knows that he’s more than capable of being seen as a protective figure!

But something about you wanting his protection even if it’s just from uncomfortable social interactions just makes his heart melt faster than when he uses his pyro vision vision in dragonspine!

Always reassures you as well

The occasional “it’s alright. I’m here” can be caught slipping out of his mouth

Not to mention head pats ;-;

He never wants you to feel embarrassed or ashamed by it!

He adores you and he’ll always be there to protect you from anything that makes you feel scared or uncomfortable~

Yoooo I’m on a roll!!! Dies for a whole week

I might post some sketches I’m doing of Scara cuz I found the funniest fucking bit of lore in the game and I can’t stop wheezing over it.

[mimisempai]

I'll find you at the end of the road - Chap 3/8

Chapter summary

Through the mysterious mailbox, Crowley and Aziraphale get to know each other and their bond grows stronger...

On Ao3

Rating G -  3764 words

Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5 - Chap 6 - Chap 7 - Last chapter

April 15, 2024 - 7:00 a.m.

Crowley, his heart beating a little faster than usual, approached the mailbox from which the flag was raised.

He opened the flap and unfolded the note with slightly shaking fingers.

Thank you for this lovely gesture. I haven't stopped wearing it since I received it. But how did you know that tartan is one of my favorite things?

You tell me that this connection with me allows you to open up to others and not feel alone, and you ask me if I want to continue this correspondence?

I don't want to stop either! I feel the benefits in my life as much as you do.

I don't know if we'll ever meet, but I want to keep getting to know you and for you to get to know me.

Let me know what you like, what you don't like, what makes you tick, whatever you feel like writing.

Sincerely.

Aziraphale.

Crowley, not realizing he was holding his breath, let out a sigh of relief, tucked the letter in his pocket, and left. He had to get to work before he could write. It was no longer a matter of writing a short note; he wanted to take the time to think before he could answer Aziraphale.

As he walked through the school gates a few hours later, even though he loved his job, for once he couldn't wait for the day to be over.

April 17, 2022

Aziraphale was reading Crowley's latest letter, a steaming cup of tea beside him, sitting in what had become his special Crowley corner, the armchair in front of the bay window.

As for the tartan, I was really acting on a hunch, I saw this scarf and thought you'd like it.

A little more about me: 

I became an astronomy teacher because I've always loved the stars and planets. I lived in a country village as a child and was fascinated by the night sky.

My favorite color is red, although I pretty much only wear black.

My favorite spirit is Talisker and I love spicy food.

Queen is the best band! (I won't accept any arguments to the contrary).

My favorite book is Persuasion by Jane Austen.

I love to drive my old Bentley. 

I'm afraid of fire.

I can't stand cruelty, condescension, and lying, especially people who lie to themselves.

And I hate people who feed bread to ducks (it's not good for them).

I love the lake house.

Aziraphale laughed slightly at the humorous tone of the letter, then finished his tea before fetching his notepad to begin writing his reply.

April 19, 2024

Crowley, sitting cross-legged on his sofa, Harry curled up in a ball on his lap, read the latest letter from Aziraphale.

I love old things, especially old books. In my antique shop, the only thing I refuse to sell are old books. I prefer to keep them for myself.

I love restoring old furniture and objects to their former glory.

I also drive an old car, an old yellow Beetle from 1941.

My favorite book is Pride and Prejudice, but Persuasion is a close second.

I listen to my favorite classical music on an old gramophone, but I also have Queen records. (Which I listen to sometimes and I won't deny that they are the best band).

I like to draw, or rather make sketches that I never finish. 

My favorite drink is sherry and occasionally a good glass of French red wine from Bordeaux. I love sweets more than anything and especially French crêpes.

I also dislike lies, prejudices, and gratuitous meanness - well, just plain meanness.

I also like the lake house. A lot. A lot. (All the more, since it seems to be what made our connection possible.)

As for the ducks, what should I feed them if I see any on the lake? 

How did you come to live at the lake house? 

Crowley reread the letter, folded it, and placed it in the small metal box where he'd put the others before going to bed and thinking about what he'd answer the next day.

April 21, 2022

It was a day of rest, and Aziraphale was still in his bathrobe when he left the house to see if there was any mail. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Crowley had already replied, if the little flag was to be believed. He refused to think about the fact that his heartbeat had quickened for that reason, attributing it to the fact that he'd been walking a little faster than usual.

He took the letter and read it over his breakfast, Harry munching on a lettuce leaf at his feet.

Frozen peas. The ducks love them and it's good for them. 

I rented the lake house after I graduated from university. I needed some space and peace.

It was the strangest place I'd ever seen. 

I couldn't imagine anyone building it. In fact, I couldn't imagine anyone building it and not living in it. I liked the way it seemed to float above the water. I liked the path that led to it. I don't know why, it has a strange, timeless charm.

April 23, 2024

Crowley, during a break between classes, took Aziraphale's answer out of his pocket and read it again.

I now have a bag of frozen peas in my freezer. I'm ready for the ducks. 

Regarding the lake house, I so agree with you.

The fact that you have to walk so much to get to the front door, it's like you have to earn the right to enter the house. Every time I walk up the path, it's like I'm on a quest, and the prize is the right to enter.

I'm sorry, I must sound a little eccentric. 

April 24, 2022

During his lunch break and throughout the day, Aziraphale read and reread the last words from Crowley.

Please don't apologize. Not to me for being who you are. 

You can be eccentric. You can be anything you want.

Aziraphale had always felt different, in both his personal and professional life choices, never accepted by his own family for who he was, so Crowley's words eased some of his inner struggles. 

He couldn't ignore the warm feeling in his chest at this affirmation from someone he'd never met.

There was someone in this world who accepted him for who he was.

You can be anything you want.

A few weeks passed as Crowley and Aziraphale continued their strange correspondence. 

It was late spring now, and yet the wind was blowing strongly on this early morning in London as Crowley walked briskly to the academy. 

As he always did these days, he smiled at the thought of Aziraphale's latest letter, already thinking of what he would write back. 

His phone began to vibrate in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he reached for it to answer the call.

Seeing the name on the screen, he said in a cold voice, "Yes?" 

He held back a sigh of annoyance as he listened to his caller and then replied, "Look, this isn't easy for me either. You know... no, I'm not angry that you called. It's just that... I'm sorry, I have to go to work and I..."

He approached the school and didn't want to continue this conversation as more and more students entered.

After listening to the arguments on the other end of the line, he replied firmly, "I don't think that's a good idea. No, Furfur, I'm asking you not to come. Because we need more time... Especially if we want to stay friends. I just don't think we should... Look, I'm on my way to work, so we'll talk. Bye."

Crowley sighed again and shook his head as he walked out the large front door.

"Don't tell me you've lost your motivation already."

Crowley looked up and, meeting Mrs. Tracy's gaze, replied, the smile back on his lips, "Absolutely not."

"That's fortunate. Eric has the flu and we need someone to cover his classes while he's out. Since your resume says you majored in art, I was wondering if..."

"No problem! I'm happy to oblige. Just don't blame me for associating it with astronomy." 

"I'm already happy to have someone, I'm not going to be picky. You can check Eric's schedule with the assistant and then make arrangements. Thank you, Crowley, really. If it weren't for the exams, I wouldn't have asked you."

Crowley replied kindly, his expression open to show her he meant it sincerely, "No worries, really."

On the contrary, he was pleased to see that even though he was the last to arrive, he was trusted.

However, at the end of the week, when he came home with his arms full of groceries, he thought maybe he should have thought before saying yes, because he was literally exhausted. He hadn't realized how much time and energy it would take to do the work of two people.

Luckily, Eric was back at work by Monday. 

But despite his exhaustion, nothing could stop him from going looking for Aziraphale's letter, which must have been waiting for him at the lake house for days.

Less than two hours and a few speeding violations later, he parked in front of the mailbox in a cloud of dust, and a few seconds later, leaning against his car, he eagerly read the letter.

Hello, pen pal. 

It's been a while since you last wrote. 

I hope all is well.

Several words were crossed out before the letter continued in Aziraphale's elegant handwriting.

It's ridiculous, just a few words to write, and it makes me sound like a babbling teenager (if there's such a thing as sound when it comes to a letter).

Well, I'll write it: I MISS YOU

It was obvious that the last words had been written with determination, probably as much for the author as for the recipient.

Crowley felt a strange warmth in his chest. He, too, had missed the correspondence, more, he had missed Aziraphale's words, so he hurried to reply and put the letter in the box before heading home.

Parking the car in front of the mailbox, Aziraphale decided to ignore the butterflies in his stomach when he saw the little flag raised.

He took the letter out of the box, and once he was home and Harry was fed, the antiquarian went to his favorite spot to read it.

It's been a tough week.

I've had to take a sick colleague's classes and have only had the strength to go to bed at night (and feed Harry, of course), and I feel like it's been a century since I've looked at the sky or seen a bloody tree. That's what I miss. The nature that surrounded me at the lake house.

It's not so bad when I'm busy. It's when I have a minute to breathe, to look around, that it seems really hard. 

I wonder what I'm doing here, alone, in this gray city. I miss the trees.

PS: I missed you too. A lot.

June 15, 2022 - 7:00 pm 

Aziraphale left the house with a medium-sized tree and gardening tools in the trailer attached to the Beetle and headed for London.

June 15, 2022 - 8:55 p.m.

Arriving at Crowley's address, in front of the construction site he'd seen the other night with Muriel, Aziraphale parked the Beetle. He took out a shovel, put on the gardening gloves he had in his pocket, and after finding the ideal spot in front of the construction site where Crowley's future home would be, began digging a hole.  With the help of a rope and a lot of sweat, he managed to get the tree into the hole and covered its roots with the soil and potting soil he'd brought.

Half an hour later, at 9:30 p.m., he stood in front of his work with his hands on his hips and said quietly, "I hope this will work."

June 15, 2024 - 9:30 pm

Halfway between the school and his apartment, Crowley saw rain gathering in the sky and began to pick up his pace as he realized he didn't have an umbrella. Suddenly, a rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance, and as he ran almost the entire distance to his apartment, the rain began to fall.

Of course, he was completely soaked as he ran the last few meters to the front door of the building. He fumbled for his keys, dropped them, and grew increasingly frustrated as the rain poured down on him, when suddenly it stopped. 

Which surprised him because it seemed to be falling everywhere around him except on him.

He looked up.

Above him, the thick green branches of a young tree formed a canopy that swayed in the rain just above Crowley. That tree hadn't been there a second ago, but now it was sheltering him, and Crowley stared at it, mouth agape.

June 15, 2022 - 9:37 p.m.

Aziraphale smiles as he tosses the shovel into the Beetle's trailer before heading home.

June 15, 2024 - 9:37 pm

Crowley, overcome with emotion, smiled broadly and, knowing that only Aziraphale could be responsible for it, whispered to him, though the other man could not hear him, "Thank you, my friend."

Raindrops fell through the green branches, but Crowley didn't care as he danced with joy under the tree, his face turned skyward.

2022 - A few days later

Muriel stood on the small path in front of the lake house and exclaimed, "Wow!"

Aziraphale motioned for them to follow him inside, and Muriel entered, still stunned by the house, before asking, "So this is where you've been hiding?"

Aziraphale smiled back, "Yes. Would you like some tea or something stronger?"

Muriel replied quietly as they looked around, "Tea is perfect."

Aziraphale took two cups from the cupboard, poured the tea and they sat down in the chairs in front of the bay window. 

They talked for a while about the new house, for Muriel, as usual, had a lot of questions and Aziraphale was happy to answer them.

Muriel finished their cup of tea, put it down, and with a more serious expression, they said quietly, "Aziraphale. I didn't just come here to escape my miserable existence in the city. I've come to talk to you about HH and to ask you to come back with us. We need you."

Aziraphale shook his head vigorously, "HH? Sorry, Muriel, but no."

His friend insisted, "But if you talk to her..."

"Forget it, Mother doesn't want me back. I don't want to come back. Everybody's happier now."

Muriel argued anyway, "What about your work? Your work was great. Even she admitted that. Look, I know it's hard, but if you put aside your problems with her..."

"I said forget it," Aziraphale replied, this time in a firm tone before softening, "I'm really sorry, Muriel. It's just that... I like it here. And I like my job at the shop."

Muriel replied gently with a slightly sheepish look, "At least I tried," then after a few seconds they asked with a mischievous twinkle in their eyes, "Are you seeing anyone?"

After a slight hesitation that didn't go unnoticed, Aziraphale shook his head.

"Why did you hesitate?"

"I didn't hesitate."

"Yes, you did."

Aziraphale said in a voice he knew was a little unconvincing, "I... I'm not committed to anyone, okay?"

"Okay," Muriel replied, smiling amusedly before continuing, "I'm just saying you might want to think about the future."

Aziraphale laughed. 

He couldn't stop himself. 

Think about the future.

For God's sake, he was communicating with someone who lived two years in the future.

Muriel looked at him as if he'd gone mad, "What?"

Aziraphale continued to laugh.

"What?"

A few days later, with Crowley's letter open in the passenger seat of his Beetle, Aziraphale drove to Waterloo East Station, near Westminster School. 

He parked, picked up the letter, and got out, heading for the station entrance.

About the same time, two years ago, I lost something. 

At Waterloo East station.

I was taking the train home to my parents and left it on the platform. See if you can find it for me. I won't tell you what it is. 

Then drop it in the mailbox. 

It's your mission if you decide to accept it.

The exact date and time is on the back of the letter.

Aziraphale couldn't resist a challenge, so he found himself searching for an object he knew nothing about. He wandered around the station, scanning the few people who were there. 

He looked for a single man and saw none. Only a few families and an elderly couple. 

He continued his search when suddenly, through the window overlooking the platform, he saw a man with short red hair get up and prepare to board the train.

Aziraphale's heart leapt, he wasn't sure if it was Crowley, but he had this deep intuition that it was, and if it was, oh my God, his pen pal was incredibly handsome. 

Aziraphale hurried through the door to the platform where he was standing and was about to approach him when he stopped abruptly.

The red-haired man was embracing another curly-haired man who had his back to Aziraphale. 

They kissed quickly and embraced again before parting.  

Neither of them noticed that Crowley, for it was undoubtedly Crowley, had left a book on the bench behind them. Aziraphale had seen it, but he didn't dare come any closer and decided to wait and watch, a slight twinge in his heart that he chose to ignore.

A voice over the loudspeaker announced the train's imminent departure.

Crowley gave the other man a sad smile before boarding the train, obviously reluctantly.

The one who appeared to be Crowley's lover didn't move and watched the train pull away until it was completely out of sight. He didn't notice the book. Aziraphale watched him go, and when he was far away, he approached the bench. He looked at the book that Crowley had left behind. It was a well-worn copy of Jane Austen's Persuasion. 

It had definitely been Crowley.

Crowley impatiently made his way to the mailbox, thinking that Aziraphale might already have gone to the station. He was not deterred when he saw the small flag raised.

He opened it, disappointed not to see the book, but only a note. With just one question.

What are you doing on July 1st?

Crowley replied immediately on the same piece of paper, and just as he was about to leave, he heard the characteristic sound of a small flag being raised and returned to the mailbox and opened it. He grabbed the note and unfolded it.

C: I have no plans. Why do you ask?

A: If you remember, the village celebrates summer with fireworks on the lake. 

Would you like to watch them together? 

From the lake house. The fireworks on the lake are wonderful.

C: I know, I used to watch them from the house when I lived there. You're not asking me out, are you?

A: No, no. I just thought it would be nice to do the same thing, that's all.

C: The same, but two years apart.

A: It's better than staying home.

C: Okay. Let's go see the fireworks.

A: See you in 10 days. 

July 1st at 10 p.m. in front of the mailbox.

Aziraphale didn't wait for an answer and walked happily back into the house. Even though he'd denied it, it still felt like a date of sorts. Perhaps Crowley would agree to tell him more about his mysterious companion. 

July 1, 2022/2024 - 10 p.m.

Two years apart, in the same spot, Crowley and Aziraphale sat next to the mailbox. Aziraphale brought one of the chairs from the garden and Crowley brought an old folding camping seat from his car.

They were both armed with notepads and pencils.

The strange, timeless conversation resumed, still punctuated by the little flag going up and down.

C: Did you go to the train station? I never got my book. You're not going to keep it like all your old books, are you?

A: Let me keep it for a while. I want to read it. By the way, I've been meaning to ask you.

Who was the other man at the train station? Was he your boyfriend?

Why didn't you tell me about him?

The way the questions were asked gave Crowley the impression that Aziraphale was jealous, but he didn't want to get the wrong idea.

C: You don't talk to me about your love life either.

A: Because I don't have one. God, I can't believe you didn't tell me you were married.

C: I'm not married, you idiot. We split up when I moved to London.

I'm single now.

The fireworks have just started.

A: They've started here too.

I'm sure yours are better because they're supposed to get better every year. 

C: Probably. Let's enjoy the show.

Then, during the fireworks, the flag didn't move for a while. But the noise did not drown out the sound of their hearts beating in their ears.

Then, as the last bouquet ended and silence fell, the flag suddenly rose, startling Crowley.

A: At the station, when I saw you... I didn't expect... I mean, you didn't tell me you were gorgeous...

Crowley gasped, then blushed at the compliment. He looked around, embarrassed, even though he knew no one was there.

C: That's not fair. 

You've seen me, but I still don't know what you look like.

Aziraphale ran his hand over his face and figured that since it was the night of truth, he might as well go for it.

A: You're right. 

I would like to know what I'll look like in two years. Why don't we meet in the future and you can tell me what you think? 

Crowley thought, then looked at his watch; it was 10:43 p.m. He took a deep breath, suddenly excited and nervous, then wrote quickly.

C: Why don't you call me on July 1, 2024 at 10:45 p.m.?

Just as Crowley was about to raise the flag after dropping the note in the mailbox, the phone in his pocket began to vibrate, nearly knocking him out of his chair.

Heart pounding, without looking at it, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and picked it up, "Hello?"

_________

A damaged author can't write the next chapter... so don't hit me for this cliffhanger...

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

[thefaiao]

Hi, firstly I just wanted to say that I love your art, especially with the way you use dynamism and angles in character sketches. It's really beautiful and I always look forward to seeing more black and white pieces from you.

I just wanted to ask, as a beginner artist whose been drawing on and off from 2017 onwards and hasn't seen much improvement, are there any resources or books you would recommend for someone still trying to grasp form and shape? Especially in creating 3d forms with line? I'd love to be able to draw characters in a similar way that you do but my cubes and cones never seem to come out correctly and humanoid shapes are even tougher. Thanks again for sharing your art.

Hello! Thank you very much for the compliments. Up until somewhat recently the B&W pieces were my favorite things to draw, so I get you. I did fall in love with coloring eventually though.

Alright, there are lots of things that can be done. I have had some classical training, and done human figure studies live, but honestly not nearly as much as I probably should have. You definitely should still do figure study as much as possible, especially in person. I'm just prefacing to say it may not get you to draw the way I draw I suppose, as its only part of what I've done to improve my drawing ability.

There are a few good resources to start with, notably the Loomis method, which a lot of artists use as a base. That's how you should use it too, ideally. It's not about copying his work exactly, it's about understanding just how the human body is proportioned, and adapting it from there. It doesn't have to define your thinking, it's just a good guideline. It's possible to structure a body quite differently than Loomis (and there are many many books for that), but the truth, which is, the proportions of the human body, is still there in all mindsets. Once you understand that, you can understand the reason for each approach, and even forego them to express something more unique, abstract and visceral.

The biggest thing you should do though, is always be observing the world around you, both online and offline. Figure studies are nice but they remove one of the most important things, and that is context. I find that people who will use those large libraries from people who pose professionally with bows and swords and the like will often draw technically impressive images, but they still feel like a fake pose. It doesn't feel like the person is holding onto the weapon like their life depended on it, or like they have a relationship with the object, that they pose and move in a certain way that reflects their personality. Live study with strangers helps rectify this somewhat.

Online you should also be following lots and lots of different artists! Don't limit yourself, pay attention to how they construct their drawings, how they go about things. It's important you follow a lot of people, see how they evolve. They are not only a point in time, they are also learning and evolving just like you. It's especially good if you can have artists friends to draw and share stuff with. I have a deep-seated belief that we draw art for others, to express ourselves to them, so they need to see it.

It may sound weird for me to say if you want to draw like me try to draw unlike me, but I'm just saying what I've done. I follow a lot of people and draw from a lot of places. Ultimately the main appeal of my forms is their dynamism and volume as you've said, but it's good to be versatile so you can always explore new avenues!

Now, you've done all these things, you are practicing them constantly. Now is the most important part. Keep drawing!!! Just keep drawing no matter what, no matter how bad you think it looks. You have to believe you have something to say, to express, no matter what. You say you haven't improved, but I don't believe you! Maybe you are faster, maybe your technique is better, maybe you have better habits, maybe you are a little more patient. There are a million ways to improve which don't even appear in the image. You have to keep drawing, NO MATTER WHAT!!! You have to believe you were born to do this and you will do it well, don't worry about what others think.

I can only draw such dynamic forms because I have kept drawing and masticating and elaborating this idea that is called my style. When you are drawing you are developing your own little language, and only when you are fluent you can start writing good books with it. Being fluent will take many years, you must accept that. If you take breaks, take breaks so you can keep drawing later. Take care of your health so you can keep drawing. You will only get to see your drawings become beautiful if you live long. To live a long and healthy life is to keep drawing.

That is my ultimate advice really, let that frustration build up, but keep drawing anyway. You will force yourself to find solutions to release that frustration as you do so, and improve. Maybe it's simple, but it's the only thing that is true no matter what. Don't worry about AI or whatever, none of that matters. Just keep drawing!

[musings-of-a-rose]

What the Hell Are Fancams?

Pairing: Teacher Ben (SNL) x f!reader

Word Count: 2500+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Absolutely felt called out during the SNL sketch with Teacher Ben but I knew I had to write a little something for him. I'm pulling from my own experience as an ASL interpreter in the school system (glad I finally can incorporate it!). Thanks to @vanemando15 for her help in this and for being a beta!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

Main Masterlist

Teacher Ben Masterlist

What the Hell Are Fancams? PART 2

New year, new school, new student. Such is the life of an American Sign Language interpreter when you work in schools. 

My last student moved out of the district so I was assigned a different one. This student's interpreter wanted to go back to work with the little ones and while I loved my time with them, it was time to swap grades. 

My student is amazing and comes from a rare family, in that she is the only member that is Deaf but everyone in her life learned ASL from the moment she failed her hearing test. In most families it's the complete opposite, causing significant language delays and isolation. It never fails to blow my mind how many people won't learn a language for their child, especially when they'd both be starting from the beginning. 

This student, Chelsea, I had worked with from her time in pre-k to 5th grade. It was great already having an established repertoire with a student and we easily fell back into our normal chatter, her filling me in on anything I missed for the few years I was back in Pre-K.

So how's this school? I ask, as she's been here 2 years already.

Not bad. Teachers are mostly ok. Too much homework though.

That's usually the case with high school. Any favorite classes?

I like acting class, but my favorite teacher is Mr. Ben. He teaches marine biology.  She gives me a look I can't discern at this.

Oh? 

Yeah you know, like about the whales you like and other ocean stuff. 

You're in marine bio 2 and you're calling it ocean stuff? Sounds like a great ocean stuff teacher.

She rolls her eyes at me. You know what I mean. Plus he's…

He's..what?

She smirks her mischievous smile that I know can only mean trouble. Nothing. Don't worry about it. 

Chelsea-

Oh look we're at math class.

Saved by the bell, indeed. 

After math was lunch, followed by marine biology. Since it was the first day, I decided to eat quickly and get to the next class a little early so I can start on my "who I am and where I and my student need to be placed" speel. Although he may not need it since Chelsea was in his class before. Still, you never know what a previous interpreter did. 

I knock softly on the door and male voice tells me to come in. I push the door open and see that the teacher has his back to me, bent over his desk grabbing something. His very broad back. 

"Uh hi. I'm the interpreter for your Deaf student for next period and I'm here to answer any questions-"

He turns around and I forget what I'm saying. Bright, brown eyes focus on mine, brown hair that looks so soft with greys starting to creep in, matching the patchy facial hair he has. His nose? Don't get me started on the thoughts I'm having about that nose. He's wearing a blue plaid shirt tucked into black pants, and a tie with tropical fish on it. 

A faint pink dusts his cheeks when he looks at me. "H-hi. I'm Ben Morales. The kids call me Mr. Ben." 

He holds out his hand and I shake it, willing my nerves to not come through it. God he's hot. I wonder if this is what Chelsea was talking about. In fact, I'm sure it is.

I launch into my speel, albeit a little faster than I normally would, but Ben just nods along and does whatever I ask of him. 

"Do you have any questions?" I ask.

"Um… not right now. You're a little different than the last interpreter." He coughs and takes a sip from his water bottle.

"Ah yeah we all do things a little different. Is there anything that worked well for the student and you that I can accommodate?"

He chokes on his water, coughing violently. I move quickly, thumping him on the back but his face keeps getting redder. 

"You-" He coughs "-want to go on-" He coughs more "- a date?"

It's my turn to have my cheeks heat up. "I- what? No I said accommodate… are you ok?"

He nods, muttering something like "Oh shit" under his breath as he turns away from me, his coughs dying down. But before we can talk more, the bell rings and students start moving about the halls. 

"Well let me know if there's anything I can do to date you, Mr. Ben. ACCOMMODATE! Accommodate you!"

Fuck. Me. 

A tap on my shoulder and I turn to see Chelsea, lips upturned in that mischievous smirk. 

I see you've met Mr. Ben.

I have. He's…nice.

Yeah, nice. Is that why your face is all sweaty and warm?

What? 

She laughs and takes her seat, eyes flicking between me and Mr. Ben as the bell rings and he starts his lecture. 

—----

I find myself making it to that class a few minutes before the bell rings just to have a moment to talk to him. When I can talk, that is. I've never met someone who makes me trip over my words as much as he does. But soon, we settle into a routine, after bonding over our mutual love of orca whales. A couple weeks in, I bought him a brightly colored tie with orcas swimming on it. The smile he had could be seen from space. 

Chelsea can't seem to wipe the smirk from her face whenever she sees us talking. 

He likes you. Chelsea signs, giving me a wink.

Focus on your test, Chelsea. 

It's hard to when you guys are up there yelling your love for each other. You should ask him out. 

This has nothing to do with your classwork. And this is highly inappropriate. 

She scoffs. You've known me forever. 

Yes but you're not an adult. 

I'll be 16 soon. And I'm not an idiot. Everyone knows you guys like each other. 

What do you mean "everyone"?

She gestures around the room. Everyone. It's in the fancams too.

The..what? 

F-A-N-C-A-M-S. She repeats the sign. 

Thanks but I have no clue what that is. 

She laughs and Mr. Ben walks over. 

"Everything ok? Any questions?" He's talking directly to Chelsea and not addressing me, which is exactly what I told him to do on day one.

"No, I'm good Mr. Ben. I was just telling my interpreter about fancams." I voice for her, trying to keep my cool.

His face goes blank. "The what?"

She laughs. "You don't know?"

Before he can answer the bell rings and we head off to next period. 

At the end of the day, Chelsea takes my phone and pulls up one of these fancams and wow. It's basically a Mashup of hidden video and photos taken of Mr. Ben that have been heavily edited and music added, making him look hot. How is this appro-

Oh shit I'm in this one. Apparently Chelsea is not the only one to try and push us together. 

Shit. 

The next day, I make it to his class early as usual. He walks from around his desk to lean sit in front of it.

"Hey Mr. Ben."

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Ben?"

I smile. "Sorry. Habit."

"Hey…so what was that fancam business from yesterday?"

Oh. 

"I uh.."

"Please tell me. These kids all talk about them and I have no clue what they are."

"I don't-"

"Please?"

Oh God his eyes are all big and brown and just like a damn puppy. 

I sigh, shaking my head when I realize that was audible and I'm staring too long into his eyes. I could get lost in those eyes. 

I pull my phone out and walk over to him, leaning my butt against the desk next to him. 

"Ok, so please remember that I was shown these and am in no way affiliated with the creation of the fancams."

He chuckles, leaning in closer to me. He smells good, like fresh parchment and aftershave. 

"Are you ok?" He asks me.

"What? Oh yeah. Uh the fan cams."

I scroll through and pull one up, handing him my phone as it plays. His face becomes redder as it plays on. 

"I uh..who…who made these?"

"I'm not sure. Chelsea said a bunch of the students did-"

"There's more than one??"

"Y-yeah. Look." I swipe through a few more until it settles on the one that puts us together. I try to swipe past it but he catches sight of it before I can.

"What was that one?"

"Oh nothing. It's nothing."

"But it had my face-"

"Just another fancam."

"And yours."

"Kids these days. They will make any-anything."

"I can't see it?"

"Uh nah you don't want to-"

"Oh I think I need to see it."

He's not pressuring me at all, more like flirting, but…that's not possible. There's no way he holds the same crush for me as I do for him, right? 

My boldness coming from some tucked away insanity, I reach over and swipe the video back up, letting him watch it in its entirety. 

"The kids…want us to go on a date?"

"Apparently so. C-crazy, right?" I swallow hard, hoping he can't hear the way my heart is pounding though my chest, his scent filling my head and making it very hard to focus. 

"I don't think it's crazy."

RIIIIING!

That fucking bell ruins everything. 

At the staff meeting the next morning, they ask for chaperones to the homecoming dance. Teachers groan but a few hands automatically go up, volunteering their evening. I raise mine too, Chelsea already telling me she had been asked to go by the person she'd been crushing on since last school year. They had spent the entire summer learning as much ASL as they could in order to talk to her, which was too touching for words and I know it meant the world to Chelsea. I won't have to follow her around but I'll be there in case of emergencies. 

To my surprise, Ben raises his hand shortly after watching me raise mine. The admin takes down names and the meeting concludes, Ben catching up with me as I start to head out to homeroom. 

"You're volunteering too?" He asks. 

"Yeah. Chelsea is already going and while she doesn't necessarily need me, she asked me to come in case she does. I think she's nervous."

"That kid learned asl for her, right?"

I nod. "Yeah. She's super excited although she'll deny it."

"Sounds like her." 

"Mmmhmm."

We walk together for a hall or two. 

"I gotta go this way to homeroom."

"Oh. Right. Um, see you soon?"

"Yup. See you!"

—----

When I make it to his class at my usual time, I can see he's nervous about something, his eyes extra wide and small beads of sweat accumulating at his hairline. 

"HI, Ben."

"H-hi."

Silence as I unpack, but then he's standing near me and all I smell is him. 

"Can I ask you something?" He asks.

"Yeah of course."

"I…uh did.. um… would you-"

A student pops their head in, asking for clarification on the homework and he shakes his head, turning to help them.

—----

Homecoming arrives and I pick out a simple dress to wear. Not quite prom dress but definitely nicer than school attire. I head into the dance and get my assigned area and head there, milling about as people and students start to file in. Music blares as the dance starts andI  feel a tap on my shoulder. Turning, Ben is standing there, a navy built suit, dark button up shirt and - the whale tie I had given him shortly after we met. His mouth is agape as he takes me in. 

"You…you look…"

"Is that the tie I got you?

He picks up the end and looks at it. "Yeah. I thought it would go good with my outfit."

"Brings out your eyes."

"What?'

"What?"

Just then the music stops and switches to a slow dance, the DJ insisting that teachers should join in on this flashback. "True" by Spandau Ballet starts to play and a few staff members laugh and pull each other to the dance floor. 

"D-doyouwanttodance?" Ben speaks so quickly that I can't understand him.

"What?"

He sighs, gathering up…courage?

"Do you want to dance?"

Oh.

"With…you?"

"Yes. But you don't have to if you don't want to-"

"No! I want to!" Shit, was that too enthusiastic? 

He smiles, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants before offering me his hand. I take it, the warmth from his hand spreading into mine. He guides me to the dance floor and spins me to him, his hand hesitating over my hip. Gently, I place my hand over his and guide it to my hip, encouraging him to grip me with his fingers. 

His eyes find mine as he leads, neither of us saying anything, just staring into each other's eyes. My stomach is in my chest and I swear he can feel my heart pumping out of my chest. He's wearing cologne tonight, but underneath it I can smell that familiar smell of him that makes me forget words. A minute passes before he leans in and speaks in my ear. 

"You know we're going to be in another fancam because of this, right?"

I laugh. "You're probably right. But it's worth it."

He pulls back and looks at me again, his brown eyes sparkling as he stares deep into my eyes. The song ends but Ben doesn't drop my hand or my hip. 

"Will you come with me for a second?" He asks. 

"Of course."

Removing his hand from my hip, he winds his fingers through mine and pulls me through the crowd of students and out of the side door, turning down the hallway and moving away from the cafeteria doors. 

"Ben, what-"

He spins me around and pulls me tight to his body. His eyes flicker between mine and I can feel the nervous tension bubble between us threatening to pop. 

And then it does. 

His hands come up and cup my face, bringing his lips to mine as he places the softest kiss to my lips. He pulls back and I follow him, unwilling to let him go. 

"Was that ok? I should have asked before-"

I grip the tie around his neck and pull him to me, deepening the kiss. His lips are warm and inviting, better than anything I could imagine. His hands are gentle, one sliding around to the back of my head and the other settling on my hip, pulling me in closer. A slight moan from him goes straight through me and I can feel myself getting warm. 

The doors bang open and we fly apart, laughing nervously when the students that had come through the doors disappear down the hall to the bathroom without even spotting us. 

"Dinner?"

"Are you asking me on a date, Ben?"

He pushes his body back against mine, having felt my tug on his belt. 

"I am." His voice is somehow deeper and it goes straight between my thighs. 

"I'd love to."

He kisses me again and starts to put away, but I grip his tie tighter and pull him back down. His eyebrows scrunch together in a question. 

"Let's go check if your classroom is empty."

The question drops, lips hitching up in a knowing smile as he slides his fingers between mine, pulling me down the hall to his room. 

—----

What the Hell Are Fancams? Part 2>>

General Taglist:

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[wonymao]

──★ ˙ ̟. supernova love 𖹭 !!

a supernova glowin' the dark, forever i wished upon a star. then you came over, occupied my heart, occupied my heart <3

a/n; this is my first time writing a fic! HEAVILY inspired by dream contact: our wish and also supernova love by ive&david guetta because i've been obsessing over that song since it came out (ive never misses)

no cw! fluff cheesy n cringy sakuya, not proofread!! sakuya fic about astronomy kinda??

saku x fem!reader

wc: around 2.3k

a supernova glowin' the dark

forever i wished upon a star ::

astronomy. something about astronomy has always been calling your name. you've always been interested in it, i mean who isnt curious about outerspace? you'd have to be insane not to wonder whats out there, right? or maybe youre just too much of a nerd like your friends say..

everynight you would stargaze on the top of your roof, using it as a stress reliever while listening to your favourite songs and drawing sketches of different planets, stars, galaxies, anything that comes to your mind that day.

2:47am

coming down from your roof, stepping into your room from the window. forgetting to close the window behind you. laying on your bed, lights off, window open with the wind blowing your curtains. with the window open, its hard to fall asleep. the cold air seeping into your room, but being too lazy to get up and close it. slowly closing your eyes adjusting to the cold room, a neon green colour invades your room. instantly opening your eyes and seeing the prettiest green ever suddenly wakes you up.

running to your window, you spot a bright neon green star in the sky. looking through your telescope immediatly, getting a closer look. your heart beats faster, never in your life have you ever seen a pretty star like this one. running back to your bedside table to grab your phone to snap a picture of it, yet once you come back to your window sill, its gone..? the star just.. disappeared

how can you go to sleep after that? while the star is still fresh in your mind, you start to sketch what the star looked like. walking back to your bed sketch book and coloured pencils in your hand, getting comfortable in your sheets. eventually passing out with an unfinished drawing of that star you saw that night.

its been a week since that event happened and you cant stop thinking of it. ever since that day youve been wishing everynight looking up at the stars. 'please show me that star once more' you want to know if what you saw was real, if you were just so tired you started imagining things.

because that morning you woke up, you immediatly ran to turn on your computer searching for neon green star spottings, yet nothing showed up. only fake stock images.

you sit on the bench that you always sit on daily while waiting for the train that takes you back home after your cram school. you were let out early. 15 minutes till the train comes, its cold too. to pass time you pull out your sketchbook. flipping through the sketches of all the green stars youve drawn, you begin to skecth it again. you want to sketch a drawing similar to what you saw.

as your minding your own buisness, you feel a pair of eyes on you over your shoulder. turning around you see this guy, munching on bread staring at your drawing with wide eyes. he looks about your age, but why does he look like he jjst saw a ghost??

"that green star.. you saw that too??" he says with an unexpected deep voice "no way. did you see this as well?!" you stand up excitedly looking at him right in the eyes

"yeah, ive been searching online for any clues on what i saw.. i thought i was the only one" the boy replies sloghtly smiling

you reach out your hand to him "im y/n! im so happy to meet someone who saw it too!"

"im fujinaga sakuya" the boy takes your hand, and sits down on the bench as you follow.

"i tried to take a picture of the star but jist as soon as i picked up my phone it was gone" sakuya says with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"me too! thats why im drawing it because i domt ever want to forget that moment. ever since i saw that ive been wishing too see ot again"

"i hope that wish comes true for the both of us," sakuya says looking at your sketchbook. silence falls with the both of you sitting beside eachother on the bench on the cold. you start flipping through thr pages silently showing him all the skecthes you drew throughout the week. looking at his face for a reacyion he just lets out a little laugh.

the train comes and you both get on. its so warm on the train that you start to feel itchy from how cold it was outside. sakuya sits down and invites you to sit beside him.

the two of you talk about the star you saw that night, but eventually the conversation turns into getting to know eachother. his name is fujinaga sakuya, hes 16. he loves soccer, basketball, and also is interested in astronomy. time moves by so quick you dont even realize you miss you stop. ringing the bell to be let off at the next stop, you get up but he grabs your hand. looking down at the boy whos still seated, you see he's holding out his phone.

"y/n.. uhh.. can i have your phone number?" he shyly asks. you smile to him grabbing his phone and putting your number into it. giving his phine back you wave bye at him while stepping off the train. hes waving back and smiling.

when he mentioned he was interested in astronomy, your heart started beating faster. youve never met someone who liked the same stuff as you, not only that. but hes also really attractive and kind.

you step into your home, taking of you coat and boots, your mom welcoming you back and offering you dinner. after eating you get ready for bed and fall asleep.

----

tge next day you had just got gotten home from school, getting ready for bed you get a notification from your phone. thibking its one of your friends asking help for the homework you sigh, turning on your phone only to see a text from.. fujinaga?!

----

sakuya got to his shared dorm around 8:30pm, taking off his backpack and slipping off his shoes running into the living room like the happiest child ever. "guys you will never guess what happened to me today" sakuya says while 5 boys turn their attention from the tv to him

"i talked to this girl-" sakuya is cut off from his roomates cheering for him. really? he didnt even get to finish his sentence but theyre cheering for him like he just accomplished the hardest thing ever

"our saku-chan finally getting a girlfriend?" riku jokes nudging the youngers arm

sakuya blushes at the thought of the girl being his. "yeab so what? i talked to a girl and you guys didnt. i know youre all jealous."

the room goes dead silent. the first to break the silence is sion laughing follwed by the others. sakuya jist ignores their teasing and goes to his room to get ready for bed.

the next dayduring rheir shared dinner sakuya asks for advixe on how to strike a conversation with the girl. "just ask her to go to that bakery you always go to or sometbinf" yushi suggests

"hyung youre so smart!" sakuya says pulling out his phone and starts texting away. naturally the 5 boys gathering around him watching the conversation between him and the girl

"YOOO SHE SENT A HAND HEART SAKU SHE LIKES YOU" Riku says slapping sakus shoulder "orrr she could just be nice, but i doubt that" ryo adds on

"our little sakuya has a date tomorrow" daeyoung says hugging the younger boy. sakuya smiling to himself as his face flushes thinking of getting to see her again.

sakuya hurriedly goes to his room to try and get some good sleep so he can be refreshed and full of energy for tomorrow.

---

then you came over, occupied my heart,

occupied my heart <3 ::

its been 2 months since youve met sakuya and youve been hanging out with him very often. youd be lying to yourself if you said you didnt like him. everytime he looks at you with those eyes you feel you heart beat faster, cheeks flushing red. whenver he asked why you were red you would jist say its from the cold. but you didnt know that he knew it was because of him, i mean it was already spring. shouldnt you be saying its too hot? sakuya was just waiting for the perfect time to tell you what he truly felt about you.

even thiugh he knew you liked him because youre not so good at hiding your feelings, deep down, he thought maybe you were just being nice like what ryo said when he first asked for advice.

you both saw that green star on febuary 7th. he wantes to confess to you april 7th. that day also happened to be your birthday.

"soo whens your birthday?" sakuya asks while tilting his head at you. you stop eating your food to reply "its april 7th" sakuyas mouth is wide open "REALLY??" sakuya says shocked "yeah why?" you slightly laugh at his cuteness

"oh.. nothing, its just next week" he awkwardly laughs realizing his actions were too weird "are you doing anything that day?" he asks. "yeah im going bowling with my friends!" you reply smiling like an idiot

sakuya reaches his hands across the table and holds yours. "what about after that?" you feel your face heat up

"i wanna see you on your birthday" sakuya boldly says

"w-we'll most likely be done after 7ish.." you say trying not to move, you want to hide away from this situation. as much as you like it, its embarassing

"okay cant wait to celebrate your birthday at 7:30pm jist the two of us" sakuya says while letting go of your hands to finish his bread.

the rest of the dinner with him goes well, you trying to forget what hapoened to calm your heart down.

-----

april 7th.

you wake up in a good mood, i mean its your birthday and you have fun plans for today. you get ready, trying extra hard to look good today. not only for the amount of pictures youre gonna take today, but also for.. sakuya.

as the time gets closer to 7:30 your heart beats faster. god you really cant think of sakuya without blushing and almost looking like a fool in love.

he told you that he wanted to celebrate your birthdah togetger in your house, and you agreed. its currently 7:15. waiting for him, you touch up your makeup and hair, also cleaning uo your room a little.

*ding dong* you hear the doorbell from the front door. you told your mom not to asnwer the door if someone knocked because you told her your friend was coming over. your mom makes raises an eyebrow at you because you normally never say that to her, so she assumes ots a boy. which she was righr when she hears you greet a deep voice boy. respecting your privacy she just stays in the living room.

"hi y/n" sakuya says stepping into your house holding a bag of sweefs from wishs bakery and a present

"hi saku! omg you didnt have tk get me a present" you shyly say

"its your birthday of course i had to" he says taking off his shoes

"thank you.. come on lets go to my room?" sakuya nods at your request. his heart beating knowing hes about to confess his feelings.

----

"so this is my room!" sakuya looks around, he knew he liked the right girl but seeing your room made his feelings grow even more. he can tell your serious about astronomy.

you both settle into your room, ypu sit on you bed patting the spot beside you which he quickly takes. you both share the sweets he bought, laughing, making jokes and talking like yoh always do.

"wanna see your present?" sakuya gets uo and walks towards yohr desk to pick his present up.

you nod as he gives you the box. you start to open it feeling his eyes on you. a smile instanly lighting up your face as you pull out this pretty milky way snow globe, also a cute teddy bear hokding a heart. you hug sakuya thanking him for the gift.

"open the heart insidd the teddy bear" he says pulljng awat from the hug. listening to what he said, you open the heart. the heart read out

'I think I fell for you, so it’s only fair that you pick me up.'

"saku.. what?" you say looking up at him, face red.

"y/n, ever since that first day i saw you drawing a picture of that green star, i couldnt get you off my mind. i thought about- no i still think about you everyday, how you make me laugh, youre so pretty, smart, kind and.. i ended up falling in love with you. i love you y/n. can i be your boyfriend..?" sakuya says struggling to maintain eye contact, face heating up. you break into tears hugging him.

"yes of course, i wanna be your girlfriend sakuya. i love you too" sakuya hides his face in the crook of your neck and smiles to himself.

"youre the best person that has ever walked into my life" he whispers still hugging you. you break the hug to look at his face. you cant believe it. he's yours? the boy youve liked and known for 2 months confessed to you on your birthday.

sakuya cups your face in his hands

"can i kiss you?" you swear you couldve died in that moment. you silently nod not wanting to speak jist incase if you stuttered too much, or jist having your voice crack

he slowly inches his face closer. your lips meeting, his hand still on your face but his other dropping to lay on your lower back. you wrao you arms around his neck. the kiss only lasfed a couple of seconds but after he pulled away from the kiss you hide your face in his chest. you love him so much.

"this is the best birthday ever, thank you saku."

its crazy to think that you found your boyfriend all because of a green star.