#cryptic duo au

[gamerbearmira]

Cryptid madrigals au - Friday the 13th idea (you don't have to draw anything)

They can't come outside at all during this day. The amulets do a 'I'm not working anymore' when fall approaches, Friday the 13th to be more specific. (The closer it gets to October the wonkier it gets)

It's also when they are at their most violent urges. Camilo is confined to his room for the time being because of this. (He was still upset from what his friend said to him, but this day specifically makes emotions stronger, hence why he's confined to his room. Because if he wasn't, he would be at the boy's house...and that would not be a good thing.)

Casita will not open up to anyone unless it's an emergency, which is very rare. The house will also emit sleeping gas for the villagers so they can stay inside during this day.

The next day they are confused because they don't remember doing anything the day before, but they go on with their lives.

Every cryptid on earth hates this day, whether they live amongst people or not. It just makes them feel very negative and irritable.

Where's the fun in not drawing 🤥

EIYHER WAY UHHHH VERY COOL IDEA, SERIOUSLY...lowkey makes sense, them tweaking out. Casita taking everybody out is CRAZY work but like. It's honestly understandable, lets be fr 😭

Mfs are straight menaces, so like what else can you do other thank. You know lock everyone up and put everyone else to sleep. Love that <33

I didn't know who to draw <\\\\333 was gonna draw Bruno but like I didn't know how??? Would bro have to be kept awake. Cause he's basically the bogeyman so would bro haunt peoples dreams. Like Freddy 💀💀 I'M KIDDING LMAOOO

Is Pedro even affected. I mean he's not technically a cryptid by birth so like would he tweak out too. And if he does is he just bound to the painting or can he roam Casita freely?? Or like is he just watching his family and is like

[nomsfaultau]

Part 3–Finale

When the potion is done, liquid arcs through the air towards them, just barely caught in a bowl. Philza stirs it thrice with a silver spoon, then lifts it to Tommy’s mouth. It’s the most delicious thing he’s ever had, somehow tasting like everything wonderful all at once. Greedy hands reach for the bowl, only for it to be cruelly yoinked away. Tommy’s whines are shushed by Philza. He carefully trickles a few drops into the unconscious Wilbur’s mouth.

A moment, and Wilbur’s throat bobs with a swallow. Philza spoon feeds the drowsy boy as Tommy tries to dip his finger in the soup. Potion? Tasty stuff. Tommy finally swipes some and pops his finger in his mouth, only to jerk back as Philza lightly bops him on the head with the spoon. “This is for Wilbur, you gremlin.”

They’re halfway through the bowl before Wilbur’s eyes flutter open. They’re hazy and dark, or are until they latch onto Philza. Fear trickles in, giving way to sharp panic as he frantically searches the room. “Tommy! What have you done to him!?”

Philza unfolds his wing where Tommy is neatly tucked to him. “Imprisoned in time out for trying to steal your meal.” He fails to catch Tommy’s lunge for freedom, but it ultimately culminates in Tommy clutching Wilbur, who shakily reaches for him, weakly grasping onto his baby brother. His glare falls harshly upon Philza. At once the boy barrages him with a tangled mixture of accusations and questions. “Information never comes free,” Philza hums. “But you may have answers, if you’re willing to bargain.” Wilbur hesitates, then decides to hear his offer. “For every spoonful I will answer a question.”

He weighs it against his starving desperation. Wilbur eyes him suspiciously. “Is the soup harmful?”

“It depends. Harm is a very broad measure.” Wilbur scowls, biting out a response. Philza grins. “Asking what the hell is wrong with me is another question, Wilbur.” He scoops more potion up and holds it to the boy’s lips. After a long, terse pause, he allows himself to be fed. He asks if it’s poisoned. No. Hexed? Debatably. Deadly? You can drown in a few inches of it, probably. Philza is as pedantic as possible for the sake of getting him properly fed, and Wilbur’s scowl only deepens even if his fear does not, too irritated and hungry to do anything but fall into the game. Eventually he starts asking more open ended questions, trying to ascertain what transpired. He shoots Tommy a nasty glare when he’s informed Tommy called upon Philza’s aid, though doesn’t stop cuddling him protectively.

”Is anything you’re telling me even guaranteed to be true?”

Philza grins. “I always liked the clever ones the best. No, I did not promise you the truth in our bargain.” He chuckles at the stricken expression on the boy’s face. “But as a courtesy, I’ll give you a free answer this one time.” Instinct howls, but he smothers it. “On my word, I’ve only given you the truth so far.” Wilbur grumbles, realizing he has no way of verifying it. My, he really is sharp! Philza fondly ruffles his hair, though it only causes Wilbur to tense.

Eventually, Philza deems it best to slow down. Wilbur reaches for the bowl, and Philza floats it out of reach. Wilbur struggles to prop himself up. ”You’ve cursed me! You’ve drained me of strength!” Wilbur protests as a wing lightly traps him in bed.

“Yes, yes, blame the scary witch and not the mundane evil of starvation- Tommy!” The bowl of soup flies up sharply to avoid the boy who is caught pilfering. Tommy sticks out his tongue and scrambles up Philza’s wing in retaliation, climbing towards the prize. Philza squawks as little fingers pull at his feathers and flaps wildly, sending the boy flying. A yelp and a massive pillow appears where Tommy would’ve fallen. Philza hurries over to him, clucking his tongue. He scoops the boy up, only to turn around and find Wilbur stood on the bed, slurping directly from the bowl. Philza sighs. “If you eat too fast after starving it can hurt you.” Wilbur ignores him, sitting back down with his prize to hide the way his legs shook. “Or it could be some terrible wicked potion with malicious effects beyond your wildest nightmares? So devious I evaded all your questions?” Wilbur slows, then shakes his head and continues to drain the broth.

Philza frowns, and the soup flies out of the bowl, swirling overhead. He pushes Wilbur back into bed, tucking him in pointedly. “Now, technically I won’t force you to stay. However! The potion can give you a boost but it can’t erase months of malnutrition. I can’t imagine you’ll make it back to town in your state. Or possibly even out the door.” Wilbur’s eyes narrow sharply. But he doesn’t argue, in part because he really is that weak. He grumpily relents, still glowering suspiciously at Philza the whole time. Tommy is permitted to dip his bread chunks into the broth and is by far the happiest with the situation. Though Philza knows Wilbur needs it far more, he finds it hard to refuse Tommy given how hollow his cheeks are. Both boys are horrifically gaunt.

Wilbur sinks into his pillows the moment the food is gone, fading as the ephemeral bolstering effects wane. “So. What’s the price?”

Philza sighs, and briefly toys with arguing that their bargain is spent now that the potion is gone. It makes his wixen heart hiss to betray a deal like that, but he answers anyways. “Already paid, and nothing of concern. Really now, what have I ever done to earn your mistrust?” Other than be the first adult Wilbur could ever rely on, Philza thinks wryly. Yet his words only cause Wilbur to panic, till Tommy confirms it wasn’t anything ominous at all, even if Philza pressures him not to reveal the question. The boy nestles underwing, clinging onto Philza gratefully. At least Philza’s earned one’s trust, though he suspects he hadn’t lost it to begin with.

But Wilbur’s fleeing was a panicked response to realizing he loved Philza. If he earned it once, Philza is certain he can gently ease that bristling reservation again. Wilbur grumpily allows himself to be nursed back to health over time.

Philza blearily wakes up when a little charmed bell rings on his nightstand, alerting him that the threshold has been crossed. Frankly, he’s surprised they waited till the third night to leave. A testament to how enervated Wilbur is, doubtlessly. He’s been completely bedridden and abundantly despises being doted on. And yet even when he can barely walk he’s trying to run.

Philza groans and sinks into his mattress, dissolving into feathers. In the soft rustle of wings of night, he appears in the darkness, cloaking himself in night so they cannot see him. Philza watches the pair of boys bicker at the entrance. Tommy is trying to refuse to leave, and unlike last time Wilbur doesn’t have the strength to drag him away. Wilbur leans heavily against the doorway, already filled with tremors. He’s painfully bone thin, and Philza can count his ribs through his nightshirt.

”I don’t want to go,” Tommy insists. “It’s nice here.”

“It’s dangerous here,” Wilbur hisses. “Did you see how open he was with his magic? We don’t stand a chance! Now come on, I’m not leaving without you.”

“I can’t watch you starve again, Wilbur!”

”Nor can I,” Philza says softly, letting the cloak of shadow fall from his shoulders. It only hurts slightly when Wilbur immediately tucks Tommy behind him for protection. His legs are shaking with the strain of keeping him upright.

“Why are you helping us!?” Wilbur demands. Philza carefully begins relaying the history, Tommy calling for him and the answer he took as payment, even if he still refuses to let Wilbur know what the question was. But Wilbur rushes past that brusquely, anger sparking. “You’ve been doing this for months! There has to be a terrible price for all this. That’s how witches work! That’s how everything works. Why are you doing this?”

“You just…looked so lonely.” Or maybe it had been his own loneliness shading the image.

“We weren’t. We had each other,” Wilbur spits.

“And no one else.”

“We didn’t need anyone else! We don’t need you, and we never did!”

Philza winces. “You’re scared to open your heart, Wilbur.”

“No, I’m scared of having it stolen.”

“Hearts aren’t stolen, only given. And that love was terrifying to you, and I understand that. It’s horrifying to know your heart is held by another, vulnerable and fragile. I don’t think you can imagine our terror realizing you were dying.“ He cuts over the boy’s protest. “You were dying, Wilbur. In your stubbornness nearly killed yourself. It took immense magic to bring you back from that brink, and I don’t think you understand that. Can you imagine what that would have done to Tommy?” to me? It’s all Philza can think about, that he could have saved his boys from suffering but they were too scared to ask for help.

Something weakens in Wilbur’s hard glare, fear trickling in as he realizes by sacrificing himself for Tommy there would’ve been no one left to care for him. When no longer propped up by his bristling vehemence, Wilbur’s fragile strength gives out. Philza catches him, nestling the boy to his chest and carrying him back to bed. He nudges Tommy along with a wing, and the boy grabs onto his primaries for comfort.

Philza tucks his chicks into bed, making sure the nest is as comfortable as magically possible. The candles dim till only moonlight fills the room. A lullaby hums in his throat, and it isn’t long before Tommy is lured to slumber, curled up comfortably with his brother. Philza plants a kiss to his forehead so that the seeds of sweet dreams might blossom.

“So you really can’t steal hearts?” Wilbur asks softly. There’s almost a fear to it, worried what it means if it’s true.

“No more than any other.”

“It was real, then.” It’s almost a question, but fall short, upset certainty placing the syllables.

“Yes. I vow it on my wixen heart. A heart that roosts in your own chest, so you know.”

“Oh.” Wilbur’s dark eyes are wide in the moonlight, regret welling in them as he realizes he hurt everyone in his panic.

Philza cups his cheek, his dark talons gentle as they brush away the tears. “Worry not. I don’t ever plan on asking for it back.”

The End

Fairytale au where Wilbur and Tommy always had no one but each other. The two young brothers fend for themselves as much they can, but it’s hard. One winter day they get desperate and try scavenging in the woods far past where humans are supposed to go. They find a cozy cottage, and tentatively investigate to find the owner is gone. The boys break in and devour as much as they can because they haven’t had a good meal (or sometimes any meal at all) in so long.

They scarcely notice the crow watching in the window sill, but it notices them. Philza is a very powerful witch, and naturally knew the moment they broke in. But he also has business at the moment, and so only gets back by nightfall. He finds the boys hidden in a cupboard sleeping nearly fused into one another. They didn’t want to get found, of course, but it was so cold outside.

Tommy and Wilbur wake up tucked in a bed. Naturally they flee, terrified of the wrath of a witch. The brothers count themselves lucky for surviving the encounter.

They find the cottage nearly every time they enter the woods now. But the brothers are cautious, a survival instinct beaten deep into their marrow. They avoid the cottage avidly, worried what awaits them.

But then Tommy hasn’t eaten in days, and Wilbur hasn’t eaten even longer than that. And Tommy keeps crying at night and Wilbur would do anything for him. So they enter the cottage. It is empty, or so they think, and so the pair raid the pantries once more.

But they freeze when they realize there’s a witch perched in the rafters, watching them the whole time. Like he’s ready to swoop at a moments notice and twist their necks with his sharp crow’s feet. They run.

But they don’t the next time. Wilbur keeps a wary watch on Philza the whole time as he urges Tommy to keep grabbing food. Wilbur almost expects the door to be locked when they try to leave, but it isn’t. The shadows that cling to the ceiling like fog don’t quite hide the witch’s smile. It sends cold down the both of their backs.

The boys grow a little bolder each time, still cautious, still wary, but assured to some degree the witch only ever watches. They never take anything but food, since all the stories say that’s a death sentence. Still, Wilbur is half way convinced their souls have been stolen already and they just haven’t noticed yet. But it matters little when his brother is starving. The winter is unrelenting in its cruelty, and each time hunger claws at their insides they’re a little quicker to turn to the cottage for warmth and full bellies.

And then one day the cupboard is barren. The witch’s crow lines crinkle as he stares at them. But the house smells of glorious cooking and Tommy scampers off. Wilbur follows, though keeps his eye on the witch the whole time.

They find a table set with three plates. They’re still warm and piled with mouth watering food. The boys have only ever really cooked something if it was dangerous to eat else wise, and it turned out charred more often than not.

The boys dig in, but freeze as the witch appears at the threshold. Philza drinks in the scene, then walks in, claws scraping across the floorboards. There’s no comment as he takes a seat at the side, Tommy having claimed the head of the table. The witch simply begins to dine, and then Tommy, finally Wilbur.

“So. You’re fattening us up to eat us?” Wilbur challenges.

“The pair of you are rather scrawny for that,” Philza says lightly. “Malnutrition tends to do that. I’d be waiting years if that were the case.”

“Then you’re trying to steal our souls!”

“I make no promises either way.” It was almost more soothing than if he’d outright denied it, because then Wilbur would’ve known for sure he was lying. Like this? …well, Wilbur still isn't sure, but his caution feels vindicated.

Caution that still fades over time. They begin to eat more meals than not with the witch. And when blizzards come and they have no other bed to turn to, the brothers find themselves welcomed to the softest pillows and blankets they’d ever known. They keep watch, of course. They always did, instinct ingrained. And then they spend more nights with Philza than without, and nothing ever goes wrong, and they both get so much more sleep if they don't bother with watch…

Gradually, they begin to never leave the cottage at all. There is no food or warmth to be found outside in the terrible blizzards. It just makes sense to stay. And Philza is so lovely to talk to. Wilbur no longer checks over their backs. The scrape of his talons on the floor bring not a shudder but a grin. And anyway the claws are always so gentle when they ruffle through their hair. On the coldest nights the witch’s feathers are so wonderfully soft and warm, so why shouldn’t the boys tuck under wing?

It’s when spring comes that Wilbur realizes something is wrong, so horribly, gut-wrenching wrong. Because there is no excuse to stay anymore, and yet the brothers do.

Wilbur prods the distrust in his gut, the wariness that’s served him his whole life. All he feels for Philza is warm fondness, and that— that is a feeling reserved for Tommy and no other. No, Wilbur knows for sure that whatever the witch has done to them is powerful magic indeed. A thrall inescapable, sly and slow like a poison seeping in until it's too late to cure. No curse is more inescapable and deceptive than mind control. The witch stole their hearts alright, just not in a way Wilbur had known to guard against.

Wilbur will cut out the part of him that feels that way if that’s what it takes. It’s only ever been Wilbur and Tommy, or Tommy and Wilbur. And no one, not even some all-powerful witch, will take that from him.

So quietly, carefully, Wilbur hardens his heart and prepares their escape.

(End part 1)

[cybrsan]

Light It Up! — K.HJ, P.SH

STORY SUMMARY: The year is 2077, and the world is a lawless dystopia where tech giants and major corporations hold all the power. Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa are an infamous criminal duo who have made names for themselves fighting against the "techno brainwashing" of society. Discovering they're on the brink of getting caught, they decide to go out with a bang—and who better to help them than their favorite plaything?

PAIRING: Kim Hongjoong x F!Reader x Park Seonghwa

RATING/GENRE: M ; smut ; criminal / cyberpunk / dystopian AU

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

WARNINGS: Arson, breaking and entering, clubbing, alcohol + drug use, pet names (doll, precious), rioting, violence

NSFW WARNINGS: Choking, creampie, cum stuffing, cunnilingis, deep throating, exhibitionism, fire play, fingering, free use, hair-pulling, knife play (light), multiple orgasms, play party, public sex, spitroasting, sub drop, threesome, overstimulation

A/N: Don't blame me, blame the MATZ m/v.

LINKS: Masterlist, cross-posted on AO3.

“And… there!” 

After days of meticulous planning, organizing, and making shady, back-alley deals, it’s finally done. The last camera is in position—everything is ready for the big event. All that’s left for you to do is step back and admire your work.  

Switching on your illegally procured holodeck, you press a few buttons and watch as the space around you completely transforms. What was once an abandoned warehouse is now a club that could rival any in the city center. Neon lights pulse to heavy synth, serving bots whiz from place to place,  and the makeshift bar looks inviting enough with rows of expensive bottles on display. Whether or not the liquor in the bottles is worth the price, well… Hopefully people will be too distracted to notice. 

The focal point, the one thing you are most proud of, is the transparent stage that extends at least 15 feet above the dance floor. Taking in the grandeur of it all is more than enough to get you excited for what's to come. You're certain that Hongjoong and Seonghwa will put on the performance of the century. 

Today is incredibly important for both of them, and the fact that they have trusted you enough to include you more than makes up for the long hours and strenuous work. They’re currently out setting up their "grand finale," which they have been painstakingly cryptic about. You have your suspicions, not that you need or even want to know the specifics. 

A low whistle pierces the air. "You really outdid yourself this time, doll." 

You turn to look at Seonghwa as he enters, and your heart practically skips a beat when you take in his appearance—he must have changed in preparation for the big event. His hair, pulled away from his face, lets you focus on his features; dark eyes, full lips, all beautifully accented by his smoky makeup. His outfit is one you haven't seen on him before, but it suits him perfectly, from the gold chains hanging around his neck to the deep cut of his silk shirt.  

"Thanks, Hwa," you reply bashfully, dusting off your hands on your jeans. "Just trying to do my part." 

He approaches you, a smirk tugging at his lips. The way he stares at you, drinks you in… it makes you feel like a prey animal who has found itself in the sights of a predator. You blush and cast your gaze to the floor, suddenly fascinated by the specks of dirt at your feet. 

"And you have done it spectacularly." He lifts your chin with his pointer finger, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "I think you deserve a reward." 

Seonghwa drops his gaze to your lips for just a moment before he leans in, closing the space between you with an almost agonizing slowness. The kiss is gentle and commanding all at once and you shiver, immediately pulling him closer. The fatigue, the stress—all of it melts away.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling on it with just enough force to make you gasp. His tongue slides expertly against yours, the taste of him something sweet and darkly rich, like cherry liquor. It’s addictive. But the moment ends too soon for your liking, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

Seonghwa doesn’t pull away entirely, resting his forehead against yours as he lifts a hand to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. He lets his touch linger as he traces a path down your neck, lithe fingers playing with the necklace dangling above your chest. Three dainty, silver hearts. One for you, one for Seonghwa, and one for—

The rev of a motorcycle engine cuts through the air, and your head snaps toward the sound just in time to see Hongjoong park his bike at the door. He takes off his helmet and shakes out his hair which you’re surprised to see is freshly dyed. It almost makes you laugh; of course even as he’s out running errands for his coup de grâce, he finds time for fashion.

“Not starting the party without me, I hope?”

Hongjoong’s heeled boots click pleasantly atop the concrete flooring as he walks over to the two of you. His synthetic fur coat is a bright orange, the complete opposite of what one might expect a criminal on the run to wear. But both he and Seonghwa have never been ones for hiding.

“Never,” Seonghwa replies, clapping a hand on the back of the younger’s neck. “Did you get it done?”

Hongjoong scoffs in a teasing manner. “Did you doubt I would?”

“Of course not.” Seonghwa squeezes Hongjoong’s neck once before letting go and clapping his hands together. “Looks like it’s time for the show.”

A few hours later, the party is in full swing. The once-empty warehouse is now filled to the brim with people dressed in cloaks and masks for the sake of anonymity. Some are on the dance floor, grinding against each other, while others have drifted toward the bar, downing shots and laughing.

Toward the back of the room, there's a group huddled around a table, huffing glitter, black lace, and who knows what other kinds of drugs. Meanwhile, others are tangled together on couches, lost in the throes of ecstasy. The air is so thick with the smell of smoke and sweat that it almost makes you dizzy.

A hand wraps around your neck from behind, pulling you against a warm body, and you gasp. “That’ll be us later, precious,” Hongjoong whispers, hot breath fanning against your ear. Your nervousness ebbs away, immediately replaced by eagerness.  “Do you like watching them? Or maybe you’d prefer to be the one being watched?”

You lean back against him, the hand around your neck a welcome pressure. “Both,” you breathe.

You feel his chest rumble with laughter. “Good.” 

He separates from you, and you turn to face him. He seems so confident, so excited, that it’s hard to believe he and Seonghwa are about to paint targets on both of their backs. Hit by a wave of anxiety, you lean forward and kiss him. He immediately reciprocates, nipping at your bottom lip and eagerly exploring your mouth with his tongue. 

Kissing him is always different than kissing Seonghwa. Seonghwa’s kisses are controlled, with a hidden power brewing behind them. There’s always a promise of more, a hint at what is to come when he finally lets go. On the other hand, Hongjoong kisses with reckless abandon. He is uninhibited, always ready to devour you whole. When he pulls back, a string of spit hangs between you before snapping.

“You nervous?” You nod, and he gently tweaks your chin between two fingers. “Don’t be. Those tech bastards have no idea what we have in store.”

“I just want the two of you to be safe.”

“And we will be,” he assures you. "After everything goes up in flames. Trust me, precious. Trust us.”

“I do.” And it’s true. You trust them with everything that you have.

“That’s our girl.” He kisses you again. “It’s time to go live.”

You take out your holodeck, and with the click of a button, all the cameras you set up switch on. You hurriedly switch channels through all the local stations, thrilled to see that it worked and the entire club is being streamed live to every device in the city. 

You stop the music and make the lights go out, causing a hush to fall over the crowd. You shine one beam of light directly onto the stage and you watch as Seonghwa steps out to address the throng of people below. He is captivating and has no problem commanding all of the power in the room. 

“Welcome one and all,” Seonghwa begins, voice booming over the speakers. “If you’re here, it means you are brave enough to fight against the corporations that enslave our society!”  

Hongjoong steps up next to him, and while he’s smaller in stature, he exudes no less power. However, he stays silent as Seonghwa continues, “We will not be silenced any longer. Tonight, we raise our voices in defiance; we will no longer bow down to those who seek to control us!” 

The crowd explodes into thunderous applause but immediately falls silent when Hongjoong raises a hand. "But tonight isn’t just about the revolution—it is also a celebration of our freedom, our individuality, and our unity. So let loose because everyone in the city is watching and we all know that, deep down, they wish they were us!” 

Cheers and shouts fill the room once again as everyone raises their glasses in solidarity. Your heart swells with pride as you take it all in. You have become a part of something far greater than yourself and, just like your boys, you are willing to do whatever it takes to see it through to victory.

You switch the music and lights back on and the party resumes in full force. People seem to go even harder than they were before, playing up their hedonism for the cameras. Seonghwa and Hongjoong have disappeared into the crowd, likely to mingle and spread their message one-on-one. 

Seonghwa favors the dance floor, hypnotizing those around him as he moves. A contented smile tugs at the corner of his lips as his hips sway to the beat, as beautiful as he is provocative. He flits from person to person, holding them close as he whispers into their ears. He occasionally catches you watching him, always making sure to tease you with a wink. 

On the other hand, Hongjoong stalks the perimeter of the room, moving from group to group. His skill lies in charming people with his words, and tonight is no different. Everyone who speaks to him smiles and laughs, completely enamored with everything he says. He shakes hands, claps shoulders, and you have no doubt that if people weren’t loyal before, they will be when he’s through.

You stick to one of the quieter corners of the room in order to keep an eye on the cameras. You need to make sure that everything is running smoothly both in and out of the club; the last thing you need is for someone to reveal your location or try to hack into your network and ruin everything. You also keep a close eye on your boys, making sure they stay safe.

It’s past midnight by the time they come and find you. Hongjoong sits on your left, placing a hand on your thigh as he leans toward you and kisses your cheek. His lips linger a moment longer than necessary, and as he pulls back, he purrs, “You should be out there, dancing, having fun.”

“I am having fun,” you say, taking the champagne glass offered to you by Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa sits on your right, throwing his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his side. “You would be having even more fun if you put down the holodeck.” 

“But—”

Hongjoong takes it from you, throwing it haphazardly onto the cushion beside him. “Don’t argue.” 

He leans forward again, this time lightly nibbling your earlobe with his teeth. You gasp, knuckles turning white as you tighten your grip on your glass out of instinct. Seonghwa watches the two of you with half-lidded eyes, his hand trailing down your side and slipping underneath the hem of your shirt to trace patterns over your flushed skin.

“It’s a night for celebration, doll,” he murmurs. “You have done your job. The only thing we need from you now is… well, you.” He squeezes your hip and you jump slightly. “The badges will be here in a little over an hour according to one of my sources. While not as long as I’d like, it gives us just enough time to have a celebration of our own.”  

Your thighs clench in anticipation—you know exactly what he’s hinting at. 

"Lead the way, then," you say, setting your half-empty glass down.

Seonghwa’s gaze meets Hongjoong’s over your head, an unspoken agreement passing between them. They stand up and pull you toward the dance floor, surrounding you, one at your front and one at your back. You sway between them to a slow, seductive rhythm, closing your eyes as you let yourself enjoy their attention.

Seonghwa’s hands rest on your waist, pulling you against him as he starts to move his hips in tandem with yours, grinding against you. Meanwhile, Hongjoong cups your face, thumb tracing your bottom lip. His eyes are dark and intense as he captures your mouth with his own in a searing kiss. 

Seonghwa’s grip tightens, fingers digging into your skin as he watches Hongjoong devour you. He keeps one hand on your hip while the other snakes around to cup the back of Hongjoong’s neck, causing the younger to moan into your mouth at the touch. Now with a possessive grip on you both, Seonghwa gets to work nipping and marking the exposed skin of your shoulder. 

The room seems to disappear around you as they continue to explore you, their mouths and hands feeling like they are everywhere at once. It's intoxicating, even more so than the champagne you were drinking earlier. You feel Seonghwa’s hand trail even lower, disappearing under your waistline, snapping the band of your underwear against your skin.

You gasp and Hongjoong laughs against you, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling back with a satisfied smirk on his face. “Let’s give them a good show, hm?” 

You let the two of them drag you onto the stage, cheeks ablaze as you realize exactly what they’re planning. You’re hyper aware of the fact that you are being watched; even though most of the club-goers are lost in their own pleasure, the viewers that are steaming have nothing better to do than keep their eyes locked on you. 

Seonghwa clicks his tongue, squishing your cheeks between his fingers. “Look at our girl, acting so shy.” His fingers find your heart necklace, tugging at it just hard enough to make you gasp. “As if wearing this doesn’t mean we can do whatever we want to you, whenever and wherever we want.” 

Hongjoong takes a switchblade out of his pocket, flipping it open with a maniacal grin on his face. He uses it to cut away your clothes, exposing your body for everyone to see. Your knees shake and whether it is out of anxiety or anticipation, you can’t tell. 

He traces the tip of it against your skin, the cold metal leaving goosebumps in its wake. “We know you love it, precious,” he says. “Don’t you want everyone to see how good we make you feel? Think of all the viewers out there that will feel oh-so-scandalized but still won’t be able to look away. Not to mention all the greedy whores who will be getting themselves off to us, wishing they were in our places.” 

Seonghwa pulls you against him just like he did on the dance floor, once again letting his fingers tease his way down your stomach. But this time, he lets them travel even lower, dipping into your folds. 

“Look how wet you are just from this,” he remarks, bringing his fingers back up and spreading them so you can see the evidence of your own desire. He then extends them to Hongjoong who greedily laps at them, sucking them clean. 

You whine, trying to keep your legs closed from embarrassment, knowing anyone below the stage can look right up at you and see exactly how aroused you are. But Seonghwa won’t let you, shoving his knee between your thighs. Almost instinctively, you grind down on it, letting another pathetic sound slip past your lips. 

Hongjoong’s eyes glint with wicked delight at your reaction, his own hands reaching out to cup your breasts. “Someone’s eager,” he teases, tweaking a nipple between two fingers.

You hear a few wolf whistles from the crowd, a few lewd comments being thrown your way, but they only make you more excited. 

“I…” You’re panting heavily, making it hard for you to speak. You have to take a deep breath before trying again. “I want you. Please.”

“Anything for you, doll,” Seonghwa coos, returning his attention to your core. He pushes in one finger all the way to his knuckle with no warning and, if it weren’t for his hold on you, your legs would have buckled. 

“Fuck.” The curse slips from your lips, half whimper, half moan, as he continues pumping his finger inside your wet heat. 

Hongjoong lowers his head, taking one of your nipples in his mouth as he pinches and tugs at the other. You grip his shoulders for purchase as your head lolls back to rest on Seonghwa’s chest, whining at the onslaught of sensation. The feeling of Seonghwa inside of you while Hongjoong lavishes his attention on your breasts is unlike anything you have ever felt. 

As Seonghwa adds another finger, Hongjoong’s lips mark a path from your breasts, to your stomach, and then lower as he sinks to his knees in front of you. He grabs your thighs, fingers digging into your skin, just as his tongue finds your clit. His tongue draws figure eights around it as Seonghwa continues to pump his fingers relentlessly inside of you. 

“T-too much…” you gasp. But neither of them slow down—if anything, feeling how close you are makes them double down on their efforts. Hongjoong sucks your clit into his mouth at the same time Seonghwa adds a third finger, curling them inside of you. 

Seonghwa kisses the back of your ear, his hot breath making you shiver. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs. 

That small bit of praise is all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge, eyes rolling back as your body goes taut with pleasure. Hongjoong eagerly laps up your release, only prolonging your orgasm. Seonghwa gently removes his fingers from you and you hear rather than see when he brings them to his mouth, tasting yourself on his skin. 

Hongjoong pulls back, licking his lips to clean them of your release before his trademark smirk returns. “I think it’s time for you to return the favor, precious. Don’t you think, Hwa?” 

Seonghwa trails a hand down your spine, humming. “I don’t know if she can handle it.”

“I can,” you gasp, eager to please them just as they did you. “I can, I promise. Anything you want.” 

You almost jump from surprise as some spectators in the crowd start yelling their vulgar suggestions as to how exactly they think you should please your partners. You’re sure if you looked at your holodeck, the live chat would be filled with similar comments as well. 

Hongjoong laughs, grabbing your face in his hand. “Don’t worry about them. You can have us however you like.” 

Blushing, you say, “You choose.” 

His eyes light up and he immediately looks behind you to Seonghwa. Just like earlier, some sort of silent communication passes between them, and then you feel Seonghwa’s hand on the small of your back, urging you to bend over. 

“Why don’t you show our Joong what that pretty mouth of yours can do while I fill you up, hm?”

You barely have enough time to nod your agreement before Hongjoong is unbuckling his belt and freeing himself of his constraints. You nearly salivate at the sight of his cock, red and wanting. He grabs your hair and pulls, tugging you forward as much as he can with Seonghwa’s bruising grip on your waist keeping you in place. Tears prick at your eyes but it’s as pleasurable as it is painful, and you take him into your mouth eagerly.

The head of Seonghwa’s cock teases your folds before he finally pushes forward into you. He starts moving at a slow, torturous pace, pulling out of you before slamming right back in. Each thrust propels you forward, forcing you to take Hongjoong deeper into your mouth. You feel so full, so used. It’s incredible.

“Look at her,” Hongjoong coos, staring down at you. “Look at how well she takes us.” 

Seonghwa just groans, grinding into you so deeply that you have to choke back a moan around Hongjoong’s cock. He’s gotten quieter, his thrusts sloppier, a telltale sign that he is losing himself in his own pleasure. Meanwhile, Hongjoong’s grip tightens around your hair, guiding your head back and forth on his length. Each thrust cuts off your air supply, making you see stars.    

Seonghwa’s hand snakes around to your front, fingers finding your swollen clit. You moan again, and Hongjoong echoes you as the vibrations travel up his cock. 

“Shit,” he curses. “So fucking good.” 

Seonghwa’s thrusts grow increasingly erratic and you hear his breath hitch; instinctively, you clench around him, and he spills into you. His release sends you spiraling into your second orgasm of the night, walls fluttering around him as you milk his cock of every drop. 

Hongjoong pulls out of your mouth not long after, squeezing the base of his shaft to prevent himself from following the two of you over the edge. The second Seonghwa steps away from you, he is taking his place, forcing himself inside of you before any of the elder’s cum can drip out. 

“Hongjoong,” you gasp, nearly falling forward from the force of his thrusts. Seonghwa maneuvers himself so that he can support you, holding you in his arms as Hongjoong pounds into you with bruising force. 

“Gonna fill you just like Hwa did,” he growls. “Make you mine. Ours. You’re ours.” 

“Can’t… can’t…” Words escape you, your mind going blank. 

“Yes, you can,” Seonghwa says, stroking your hair. “You can take it. You can come for us one more time.”

His voice is comforting, but you also hear the command in his tone. You choke out a sob, nodding weakly as Hongjoong guides your hips back against him again and again. You can feel another orgasm coming on already, the coil tightening in your stomach. Seonghwa continues to murmur words of praise, stopping only to pepper kisses along your heated skin. 

The coil snaps and you cry out as you come undone, Hongjoong’s cock still buried deep inside of you. His hips stutter and he curses, his warm release mixing with Seonghwa’s. He slowly pulls out and you can feel as some of their cum trickle down your thighs. You collapse against Seonghwa completely, no longer able to stand on your own two legs. 

You feel light-headed and blood pounds in your ears, muffling the cheers you assume are coming from the crowd. You’re too far gone to be embarrassed, and a lazy smile tugs at your lips—the three of you surely gave them the show of a lifetime. 

Suddenly, you feel heat lick at your skin, and you snap back into yourself fully, cringing away from it. Your eyes focus, and you see Hongjoong flicking a lighter open and closed, open and closed.  

“There’s our girl,” he remarks. He brings the lighter to your skin again, just close enough for you to feel the heat of it without it burning you. “I think we were a bit rough with you, precious. You were totally out of it, shivering and everything.” 

Seonghwa is behind you again, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. You press further against him, squirming as the heat tickles your skin. 

“Back with us?” Seonghwa asks.

You nod. “Yes, yes, I’m fine.” 

“Okay. Hongjoong—enough.” 

Hongjoong stops immediately, flipping the lighter closed with a tsk. “Fine. It’s gonna get hotter in a minute anyway.”

Now that you’re focused, you finally hear the shouting and crashing coming from below. The very people who were just watching you on stage are now rioting, destroying the warehouse and everything in it. The cameras, the bar, all of your hard work—now there is just destruction, everywhere you look. 

You shoot up, hurriedly dressing yourself so that you are no longer the only one naked as panic begins to take hold. “What’s going on? Seonghwa, Hongjoong, we need to—”

You waver on your feet, nearly tripping. Luckily, Seonghwa catches you. “Calm down, it’s okay,” he says, hushing you. “This is all part of the plan.”

Hongjoong gestures to the crowd, pointing out some things you missed. “See how some of them are drenching the place with gasoline? We’re gonna light it up.” 

Maybe you’re still delirious from your multiple orgasms, but you are having trouble understanding what the two of them mean. “Why? I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

“This was all a distraction,” Seonghwa explains. “The club, the livestream, us putting on a show. We did it so that all eyes would be on us, and all the badges would be wasting their resources trying to find our location.” 

You nod slowly as the pieces begin to come together. “So, while I was setting all of this up…”

“We were out there. Planting bombs at some of the biggest tech headquarters in the city.” Hongjoong smiles, spreading his arms wide. “Our coup de grâce, just like we’ve been saying.” 

Despite all of your suspicions, this is something you never would have been able to guess. Before you can even begin to truly comprehend the magnitude of what they’ve done, sirens pierce the air. Everyone screams and begins to run out of the warehouse. Seonghwa grabs your hand, and nods to Hongjoong. “Now!” 

Hongjoong throws his lighter to the ground below and flames erupt instantly, devouring everything in sight. Luckily, most of the crowd has already escaped, and you feel confident no one should get caught in the aftermath. Still, it’s pandemonium, and smoke fills your lungs as Seonghwa pulls you closer, shielding you with his body as he hurries toward the nearest exit. 

Hongjoong follows after you, but lags behind as he keeps looking over his shoulder at the fire with a sadistic grin on his face. “That’s how we do it,” he yells, voice barely audible over the blaze.

“Get yourself together,” Seonghwa barks. “We need to get out of here before the cops realize what’s going on and find us.” 

Suddenly, Hongjoong trips, his foot catching on some loose debris. Seonghwa reacts instantly, yanking him back to his feet and throwing an arm around his waist. The three of you continue onward as the heat of the fire licks at your back. You crash through one of the exit doors, and stumble away into the night, disappearing into the sea of masked faces. 

All across the nation, devices light up with the same headline: “City in Chaos as Blazing Inferno Distracts from Large-Scale Bombing of Tech Giants.”

“Nation-wide manhunt underway. Suspects Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa believed to be connected to an underground criminal group called The Black Pirates…” 

NETWORKS: @cromernet @kflixnet @pirateeznet

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie @nebulousbrainsoup @ad0rechuu @sanniesbunnie @seonghwaddict @fruitcakebin @kickti @abby-grace @fireseo @yunhofingers @ohflorah @oiminho @baekbao @byuntrash101 @hyukssunflower @thatnerdytomboy @straykidsholicleigh

[lilmisssona]

*ੈ✩Sorry Bestie, I love you *ੈ✩

*ੈ✩Pairing - Han Jisung × Fem Reader

*ੈ✩Plot - After being stood up for the fifth time this year, you've had enough of serial date ghosting. Just when you were about to leave, your best friend Han, whom you vented to , texts back saying to wait because he's coming to meet you. But Han left for another city eight years ago and when he shows up, you're shocked to see your quirky best has turned into someone undeniably hot!

*ੈ✩Genre - Angst, comedy, fluff

*ੈ✩Warnings - Dramatic comedic duo, non idol au, best friends to lovers au, angst, hurt to comfort

*ੈ✩Word Count - 10.7 K *ੈ✩Screenshot Count - 4

*ੈ✩A/N - Episode 5 of Staymas is here! This best friends-to-lovers tale will have you laughing, crying, and dreaming. Dive into this heartwarming and classic tale, albeit a little cliché! you won’t want to miss it! ( This is just slightly proofread so apologies for any mistakes 🙂‍↕️ )

*ੈ✩ SKZ Masterlist *ੈ✩ STAYMAS Masterlist

The candle flickers, the breeze teasing its flame. You try not to look at the empty chair across from you, but it’s impossible to ignore. Five times this year. A record, really. Maybe it’s time to quit dating altogether.

You grab your bag to leave, but your phone buzzes on the table. Glancing at the screen, you see his name....

You frown at the screen. Typical Jisung...cryptic, over-the-top, dramatic. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, debating whether to humor him. But something about his insistence makes you hesitate.

After waiting 20 minutes you were about to respond when the café door swings open. The sound barely registers...it’s a busy place, after all...but then you see him.

And for a moment, your brain stalls.

There he is: Han Jisung.

But not the Jisung you remember - the nerdy kid with mismatched socks and perpetually broken earbuds. No, this version of Jisung looks… different. Sharper. His jawline catches the soft glow of the café lights, and his tailored jacket makes him look almost regal.

When his eyes meet yours, he grins, the same mischievous spark lighting his face. “Hey,” he says, sliding into the seat across from you. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Jisung,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here? You live miles away in Busan!”

“I moved back to Seoul months ago,” he says casually, leaning back. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“No!”

“Oops,” he says unapologetically. “Anyway, I couldn’t let you sit here alone. You deserve better than some no-show loser.”

You stare at him, still trying to process. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I know. That’s why you love me.”

You roll your eyes, but your lips twitch upward despite yourself. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here I am,” he replies, his tone light but his gaze warm.

“Why, Ji? You didn’t teleport just to crash my pity party.”

Jisung leans forward, a smirk playing on his lips. “When my best friend texts saying their night sucks, I can’t not show up. Besides,” he adds with a mock whisper, “it’s been too long since I’ve played knight in shining armor.”

You snort, trying to ignore the way your heart skips at his words. “If you’re the knight, I’m doomed. What’s your grand plan? Order dessert and roast my date?”

“First, dessert is mandatory. Second, roasting is a given. But I was thinking bigger.”

You arch a brow. “Bigger? Like what?”

He rubs his chin in mock contemplation. “Storm their workplace and give them a lecture on human decency? Or better yet, I’ll write a diss track. Something like, ‘Ghosted Five Times, but I’m Still Fine.’”

You burst out laughing. “Please don’t. The world doesn’t need a breakup anthem about my tragic love life.”

“Too late,” he says, pretending to take notes. “Verse one: ‘Left her at the rooftop café, but she’s too hot for your games anyway.’ Instant hit.”

“Ridiculous,” you say, still laughing.

“And yet, you’re smiling,” he points out, grinning wider.

You shake your head, but the heaviness you felt earlier is fading, replaced by Jisung’s familiar warmth.

“Okay, fine,” you say, gesturing to the menu. “If you’re the hero, you’re buying dessert.”

“Done,” he says, scanning the menu. “But we’re sharing.”

“Deal. But I’m ordering the biggest slice.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d expect less.”

As the waiter approaches, you realize something...this moment, sitting here with Jisung, feels better than any date you’ve had in years.

And that thought terrifies you.

----------------------------------------------------------

The waiter sets down the slice of tiramisu, its rich layers of cream and coffee-soaked cake practically glowing under the café lights. Jisung doesn’t even wait for the plate to settle before scooping up a massive bite.

“Hey!” you protest, swatting at his hand with your fork. “We agreed to share, not for you to inhale the whole thing!”

“Sharing is caring,” he says through a mouthful, utterly unrepentant. “Besides, you said you wanted the biggest slice, not the biggest bite. Details matter.”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the laugh that escapes. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’ve kept me around all these years.” He winks, his cheek now smudged with a bit of whipped cream.

“You’ve got something on your face, genius,” you say, pointing vaguely at his cheek.

“Here?” He swipes at the wrong side.

“No, the other side.”

“Here?” He misses again, managing to smear the whipped cream further.

“Give me that.” You grab a napkin and lean across the table to clean his cheek.

Jisung freezes, his playful grin fading as you get closer. Your hand pauses, and for a brief moment, you’re hyper-aware of how near you are. His gaze locks with yours, the teasing light in his eyes softening. The sounds of the café blur into a quiet hum, leaving only the weight of the moment.

Then, just as suddenly, it’s gone.

“There,” you say, sitting back and tossing the napkin onto the table. “Crisis averted.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he teases, but his voice is gentler now, his smile smaller yet no less warm.

You look away, focusing on your fork as you take a bite of the tiramisu. The sweetness melts on your tongue, but the lingering heat of his gaze lingers heavier than the dessert.

“So,” you say, eager to steer the conversation back to safer ground, “are you going to tell me why you didn’t mention moving back to Seoul? Or were you planning to keep it a secret forever?”

He shrugs, casually taking another bite. “I wanted it to be a surprise. You know me...I live for dramatic entrances.”

“Mission accomplished,” you mutter. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

“Believe it,” he says, leaning back and crossing his arms. “I’m not going anywhere this time.”

His words hang in the air, heavier than you expect. You glance at him, and for a moment, you see the boy he used to be...the one who chased you through the hallways, who promised nothing would ever come between you....

----------------------------------------------------------

It was a rainy Monday morning. The kind that begged you to stay under the covers and forget the world existed. But skipping class wasn’t an option when you were already on the brink of being dropped for "excessive tardiness." So, there you were, sprinting through the maze of your university’s sprawling campus, clutching your bag to your chest and praying you’d slip into the lecture hall unnoticed.

As you rounded a corner, moving far too quickly for the slippery tile floor, disaster struck. You slammed straight into something— or someone. The impact sent you staggering, and before you could process what had happened, books, papers, and color-coded notes exploded into the air, raining down like confetti in a very unfortunate parade.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” you blurted, dropping to your knees to gather the mess. Your heart was pounding from the sprint...and now from the mortification. So much for keeping a low profile.

“It’s fine,” came a calm, slightly irritated voice.

Looking up, you froze. Of all people, it had to be Han Jisung, the department’s golden boy. His reputation as a straight-A student was almost mythical, the kind of person who turned in assignments early and still managed to ace everything. Even now, in the chaos, he looked annoyingly put together. His navy sweater was pristine, his hair somehow immune to the rain outside, and his expression was a mix of disbelief and mild exasperation.

“Maybe,” he said, crouching down to gather his notes, “you should slow down next time.”

“Right. Slow down. Got it,” you muttered, cheeks burning as you handed him a stack of papers. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. Sorry again.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly, his gaze flicking to yours. “Thanks. Wait… do I know you?”

“You should,” you said before you could stop yourself. “I’m the one who almost blew up the chemistry lab during first-year practicals.”

Recognition flickered in his eyes, followed by amusement. “Oh. You’re that person.”

You grinned sheepishly. “The one and only. In my defense, the safety instructions were... vague.”

“That’s a generous interpretation,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he resumed organizing his notes with practiced precision.

“And you’re Han Jisung,” you added, as though it wasn’t obvious. “Everyone knows you. You’re basically the poster child for academic perfection.”

“And you’re the one who thought shaking the vending machine would make it dispense two drinks at once,” he countered, his tone dry but laced with humor.

“That worked,” you retorted, smiling. “It just wasn’t worth the bruises.”

To your surprise, he laughed, an unguarded, genuine laugh that softened his polished exterior. For a moment, the intimidating image of Han Jisung melted away, replaced by someone far more approachable.

“Here,” he said, standing and offering you his hand. His grip was steady as he pulled you to your feet. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just my pride’s a little bruised,” you admitted, brushing off your jeans.

“Well,” he said, smirking, “maybe next time, your pride should walk a little slower.”

You laughed, the last of your embarrassment fading. “Duly noted, Han Jisung.”

He tilted his head, his curiosity evident. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

“Y/N,” you said, holding out your hand, which he shook with a small, genuine smile.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you quipped, grinning as you slung your bag over your shoulder.

He shook his head, an amused glint in his eye as he collected his books and turned to leave. “See you around,” he said over his shoulder.

And as you watched him walk away - posture perfect, demeanor unshaken despite the chaos...you couldn’t help but smile. Something told you this wouldn’t be the last time your paths crossed.

You had no idea then just how much he’d come to mean to you...or how much trouble the two of you would get into together.

----------------------------------------------------------

The first time Han Jisung saved you, you were knee-deep in a mess entirely of your own making. It had started innocently enough - just another one of your “brilliant” ideas. You’d overheard someone mention that the campus auditorium boasted the best sound system in the city, and naturally, your curiosity had gotten the better of you. The only hitch? You decided to “borrow” a key from the janitor’s office to test the claim.

Your plan seemed foolproof: sneak in, connect your playlist, and revel in the sheer glory of bass that could rattle the walls. What could possibly go wrong? Well, as it turned out, everything.

Barely ten minutes into your impromptu concert, the auditorium doors swung open, revealing a very unimpressed campus security officer.

“Who gave you permission to be here?” the officer demanded, his glare sharp enough to slice through steel.

Panic flooded your chest as you fumbled for an explanation. “I, uh… I was just...”

“Just what? Trespassing and breaking into campus property?”

The scolding was bad enough, but the real horror was the thought of being reported. With your already shaky academic record, one more misstep could mean suspension, or worse. As your mind raced for an excuse, a calm, steady voice cut through the tension.

“Actually, it was my fault,” said Han Jisung, striding into the room with a confidence you didn’t know he possessed.

You blinked at him in shock. Jisung, of all people? What was he doing here?

“And who are you?” the officer asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Han Jisung,” he said smoothly, as if his name alone carried authority. “I’m a student council representative. I was supposed to meet Y/N here to help set up the sound system for a presentation.”

Your jaw practically hit the floor. Presentation? Meeting? What on earth was Jisung talking about?

The officer frowned, unconvinced. “This doesn’t look like a presentation.”

“We were testing the system before the meeting,” Jisung explained with unnerving ease. His tone was so measured, so convincing, that even you almost believed him. “I take full responsibility for not getting prior approval from the administration. It won’t happen again.”

The officer eyed him for a moment longer, then sighed. “Fine. But if I catch either of you here without permission again, there will be consequences.”

“Yes, sir. Understood,” Jisung said, bowing slightly as the officer turned and left.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you turned to him, still reeling. “What the hell was that?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Jisung retorted, arms crossed. “Breaking into the auditorium? Really?”

“I wasn’t breaking in! I just… borrowed the key,” you mumbled defensively.

“And you thought no one would notice?” He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. He wasn’t wrong. “Fine. It was stupid. But why’d you cover for me?”

Jisung let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Because I didn’t want you to get in trouble. Again. Do you have any idea how close you are to being put on academic probation?”

Your eyes widened. “Wait! you keep track of my academic record?”

“It’s hard not to when you’re constantly finding new ways to get into trouble,” he muttered, though his tone was more exasperated than angry. “Seriously, Y/N, you need to be more careful.”

A strange mix of gratitude and embarrassment settled in your chest. “Thanks,” you said softly, looking at him with newfound appreciation.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, his expression softening. “Just… maybe think things through next time?”

You grinned despite yourself. “What, and miss out on all the fun?”

Jisung groaned, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” you teased, nudging him lightly. “But admit it...you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

He didn’t answer right away, but the faint smile tugging at his lips said more than words ever could.

Your friendship with Han Jisung was like an unpredictable storm meeting a steady anchor. Where you brought chaos, wild and unapologetic, he brought calm and quiet resilience. Yet somehow, the two of you balanced each other, your mismatched escapades weaving an unlikely but unshakable bond.

----------------------------------------------------------

Take the time you convinced Han Jisung to sneak into the art department’s studio with you. Rumor had it that the seniors had painted a massive mural on the back wall, and you just had to see it before the official unveiling.

“This is such a bad idea,” Jisung muttered, trailing behind you through the dimly lit hallway.

“You say that every time,” you whispered back, stifling a grin as you jiggled the door handle. “And yet, here you are.”

“Only because someone has to make sure you don’t get caught,” he shot back, crossing his arms.

“Relax, it’s just a mural. No one’s going to....”

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, cutting off your reassurance. Your heart leaped into your throat as you instinctively grabbed Jisung’s arm and dragged him behind a stack of easels. The two of you crouched low, pressed shoulder to shoulder, holding your breath.

“I hate this,” he hissed, his voice barely audible.

“You love this,” you whispered, unable to suppress the mischievous smile spreading across your face.

When the footsteps finally receded, leaving the hallway silent once more, you turned toward Jisung, your faces just inches apart. For a brief moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the rise and fall of his chest, and the way his eyes searched yours, as if questioning what on earth he was doing here with you.

“Let’s just go,” he muttered, breaking the spell as he stood up and dusted himself off.

The mural, when you finally laid eyes on it, was breathtaking: a kaleidoscope of colors and intricate details that left you momentarily speechless. But the real highlight of the night wasn’t the art. It was Jisung’s deadpan commentary as he gestured toward the wall with exaggerated disbelief.

“You risked getting us expelled for this?” he asked, his tone dripping with mock indignation.

“It’s called appreciating art,” you replied, snapping a photo with your phone. “You should try it sometime.”

“Next time, let’s just visit a museum like normal people,” he said, shaking his head. But the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips betrayed him.

Your friendship with Han Jisung was a rollercoaster of shenanigans and shared moments that made life vibrant and unpredictable. The two of you were a duo nobody quite understood — him, the straight-laced, diligent student with his color-coded notes and perfectly maintained schedule, and you, the chaotic whirlwind who somehow managed to stumble your way through life with charm and luck.

Whether it was sneaking into the art department to see hidden murals or convincing him to ditch a study session for a midnight run to the nearest convenience store, you were always dragging Jisung into your world of playful mayhem.

And the most surprising part? He let you. He’d complain endlessly...“Y/N, this is the last time I’m letting you drag me into one of your dumb plans...,” But he’d always follow.

But your fun and games came to a crashing halt one fateful afternoon when reality smacked you in the face.

It started innocently enough. You and Jisung were sitting on the grass in the quad, eating snacks after one of your shared classes. He had a notebook balanced on his knee, going over notes while you dramatically recounted your latest “battle” with your statistics professor.

“Y/N, you can’t keep ignoring deadlines,” Jisung said, laughing as he stole one of your chips. “At some point, it’s going to catch up with you.”

“It’s fine,” you said breezily, leaning back and looking at the sky. “I always figure it out in the end.”

But you didn’t.

The next week, the results of your midterm exams came out, and the sinking feeling in your stomach as you saw your grades was undeniable. You were failing. And not just in one class;several.

You didn’t want to tell Jisung. Admitting it felt like admitting defeat, like proving to him that you were the chaotic mess everyone thought you were. But Jisung wasn’t the type to let things slide.

When he saw you sitting alone in the library, looking dejected, he plopped down across from you with his usual confident grin. “Alright, what’s up? And don’t even think about saying ‘nothing.’”

You sighed, burying your face in your hands. “I’m failing, Jisung.”

He blinked, momentarily surprised. “Failing what?”

“Exams,” you mumbled.

“Right, you're failing. I know."

"You know?" you asked, shocked.

"You bombed the last three quizzes, skipped half the study sessions, and I saw you playing games on your laptop during class last week,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “If you keep this up, you’re not going to pass the finals.”

You scoffed, running a hand through your hair. “Rubbing salt in the wound, much? Okay, I get it. I'm a horrible person… I don’t know how to fix it.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, his expression softening. “We’re going to fix this. Together.”

And just like that, he took charge. Over the next few months, Jisung practically became your shadow. He made you a study schedule, sat with you during every session, and patiently explained concepts you didn’t understand.

“Focus, Y/N,” he’d say when he caught you doodling in the margins of your notes.

“You’re like an annoying older brother,” you grumbled one evening as he forced you to redo a particularly difficult essay for the fifth time.

“Older?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I’m literally younger than you.”

“Then stop acting like my dad,” you shot back, sticking your tongue out at him.

“You’re lucky I don’t charge for all this,” he’d mutter, shaking his head but unable to hide his fond smile.

Despite the grueling sessions, you couldn’t deny that it was working. And as the exams approached, you felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time: hope.

The day the results were posted, you practically sprinted to the bulletin board, your heart pounding in your chest. Jisung followed behind, a calm presence as always.

When you saw your grades, you let out a gasp. “I passed!”

Jisung grinned, clapping you on the back. “See? I told you you could do it.”

You turned to him, your eyes shining. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Jisung. Seriously, thank you.”

He shrugged, but the smile on his face was genuine. “What are best friends for?”

And that was the moment you realized, once again, just how much he meant to you. He wasn’t just your partner in crime or your study buddy. He was your anchor, your constant, your safe place in the chaos of life.

----------------------------------------------------------

Next semester arrived before you knew it, sweeping you into a whirlwind of assignments, deadlines, and late-night cramming sessions. Somewhere amid the chaos of library study marathons and the steady comfort of early-morning pep talks, it hit you...you were falling for Han Jisung. It wasn’t the kind of love that blindsided you in a single moment, the way romance novels and movies often describe. No, this was different. It was a quiet realization, like the way dawn gradually paints the sky with soft, golden hues. Subtle, unassuming, but impossible to ignore once you noticed it.

You found yourself searching for his laugh in crowded rooms, a sound so infectious it felt like sunlight breaking through the darkest clouds. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled became something you looked forward to, a little beacon of joy in your long, exhausting days. Then there was the way he pushed his hair back when he was concentrating, his brow furrowing slightly as if he were trying to solve the mysteries of the universe. It was such a small thing, but it made your heart skip every time.

And it wasn’t just the way he made you feel; it was the way he cared for you, in a way no one else ever had. He had this way of noticing things about you...things you didn’t even realize you were doing. Like how he’d remind you to eat when you got too caught up in your work or how he’d send you a text late at night, a simple “You’ve got this” that somehow made everything feel a little more manageable. His care wasn’t loud or overbearing; it was steady and unshakable, like a constant undercurrent that you could always count on.

You didn’t know exactly when it started...when his presence began to mean more than just friendship. Maybe it was during one of those late-night library sessions when he stayed up with you until dawn, helping you with a paper even though he didn’t have to. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, his gaze soft and full of something you couldn’t quite name. Or maybe it was simply everything...every moment, every laugh, every small, thoughtful gesture adding up until your heart couldn’t hold it all anymore.

But falling for him was as terrifying as it was beautiful. Because as much as you wanted to believe there was something more between you, you couldn’t ignore the fear—the fear that acknowledging your feelings would change everything, that crossing that line might mean losing him entirely. So you kept it to yourself, letting your feelings grow quietly in the corners of your heart, where they were safe but painfully unspoken.

Instead of confessing, you did what you thought would save you from heartbreak: burying your feelings and making a choice that felt like the only escape at the time. You started dating someone else.

At first, it seemed like a solution, a distraction from the ache that tightened your chest every time Jisung’s warm smile was directed at you. Your new relationship kept you busy, giving you something else to focus on. But it didn’t take long for cracks to appear, tiny fractures that grew wider with every passing day. Your partner turned out to be toxic: controlling, dismissive, and quick to belittle you for things you couldn’t control. Every disagreement became a battle, every moment together felt like walking on eggshells.

And, of course, Jisung noticed. He always noticed.

“Y/N,” he said softly one evening, his voice cutting through the suffocating silence of your apartment. He was sitting beside you on the couch after you’d had yet another argument with your partner, your eyes red and tired from holding back tears. “You don’t have to put up with this.”

You shrugged, keeping your gaze fixed on your hands. “It’s not as bad as it seems.”

His hand reached out, brushing against yours as his voice took on a firmness that was rare for him. “It is that bad. You deserve better than this. So much better.”

You looked up at him then, his expression both gentle and resolute, and something in your chest cracked open. His words felt like a lifeline, a reminder of the person you used to be....the person you wanted to be again. Still, you didn’t act immediately. Breaking up was messy, painful, and terrifying. But Jisung’s unwavering support gave you strength.

When the breakup finally happened, it unraveled everything. The aftermath was raw, leaving you emotionally drained and questioning everything. You called Jisung in the middle of the night, your voice shaking as you choked out his name. And, like always, he showed up. No questions, no hesitation. He simply came.

He didn’t try to fix you or tell you to move on. He just sat with you, his arms wrapped around you as you cried, his presence grounding you in a way no one else’s could. His quiet reassurances weren’t grand declarations, but they were exactly what you needed: I’m here. You’re not alone.

And that was when you knew. You couldn’t keep pretending anymore. You couldn’t keep denying that he wasn’t just your best friend. That every time he laughed, your heart skipped. That he wasn’t the person you wanted beside you...not just in moments of crisis, but always.

It was terrifying to think about confessing. But the thought of losing him? That was even worse. So you made up your mind. You would tell him how you felt, even if it risked everything.

But reality always has other plans....

----------------------------------------------------------

“Earth to Y/N,” Jisung’s voice pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. His hand waved in front of your face, his tone laced with gentle teasing. “Are you okay?”

You blinked, your surroundings coming back into focus. His face was mere inches from yours, his brows furrowed with concern. He looked at you the way he always did, as though he could see every unspoken thought you were too afraid to share.

“Yeah,” you lied, your voice coming out shaky. “I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” His curiosity was genuine, his head tilting slightly as he studied you.

Your fingers tightened around your coffee cup, your heart hammering in your chest. What could you say? That you were thinking about how much you missed him? About how every moment with him only made it harder to keep your feelings hidden? About how terrifying it was to sit across from him, knowing your heart was an open wound he couldn’t see?

“Just... reminiscing,” you said finally, forcing a smile that you hoped hid the turmoil inside. “About how you’ve always had my back. You’ve saved me more times than I can count.”

He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way that never failed to make your stomach flip. “What can I say? Someone’s gotta keep you out of trouble.”

You laughed, but it felt hollow, the weight of your unsaid confession pressing down on you. You couldn’t help but notice the way the evening light softened his features, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world who mattered. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to say what you really wanted to.

As the conversation drifted to lighter topics, you found yourself stealing glances at him, memorizing every detail of his face, every inflection of his voice. The thought that you might never be brave enough to tell him how you felt was unbearable.

And when he walked you home that night, his presence warm and steady beside you, you almost stopped him. Almost turned to him and let the words tumble out. But fear held you back...the fear of ruining what you already had, the fear that he didn’t feel the same.

As you stood outside your apartment building, Jisung smiled softly, his hands buried in his coat pockets. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you whispered, watching him walk away.

You stayed there long after he was gone, the city’s lights blurring in your vision as tears pricked your eyes. Because no matter how much you told yourself it was better this way, your heart knew the truth.

You closed the door behind you, the sound of it slamming shut echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. Leaning against the door, you let out a breath, one you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding. Your chest still felt tight, and your heart raced uncontrollably,not from the cold night air that still clung to you, but from everything that had just transpired.

Best friends

That’s all you were to him, and that’s all you’d ever be. The bitter thought made your stomach twist as you dropped your bag carelessly onto the floor.

With each step that led you to your bedroom, the weight of it all pressed down on you. You peeled off your jacket, tossing it onto the chair in the corner, not bothering to hang it up. The soft glow from the city lights filtered through your curtains, casting delicate, fleeting patterns on the walls. You climbed into bed, the comforter enveloping you like a fragile shield. But no amount of warmth could ease the ache that gnawed at your heart.

Your mind, however, had other plans. It dragged you back, back to that cold Valentine’s Day years ago, when you’d finally decided to take the plunge, to confess, to reveal the feelings you’d kept hidden for far too long.

----------------------------------------------------------

It had been one of those early February mornings, the kind where your breath hung in the air in little clouds of mist, and the campus pathways were slick from the melting frost. You’d spent weeks wrestling with the idea, turning it over in your mind like a stone you couldn’t get rid of. Every shared laugh, every teasing nudge from Jisung, every late-night text that made your heart flutter, each small moment had added weight to the growing realization that you couldn’t ignore your feelings anymore.

Today’s the day, you told yourself. The words echoed in your mind like a mantra, but they didn’t feel as comforting as they should have. You couldn’t keep pretending to be his best friend, not when your heart longed for something more.

You had prepared for this moment, rehearsing your confession in front of the mirror over and over. It wasn’t going to be grand or dramatic, just honest, just the truth of how much he meant to you. It was going to be simple: "Jisung, I need to tell you something. I think I’m in love with you."

But just as you’d gathered the courage to leave your dorm, your phone buzzed. A call from Nari, a friend of yours since freshman year.

"Hey, can we talk? Meet me at the campus café around noon. It’s important."

Your heart skipped a beat. What could Nari possibly want to talk about? You didn’t think much of it at first. Nari was the kind of person who always seemed to know when something was off, and she had a way of making you feel like everything would be okay, even when it wasn’t. Maybe she’d guessed how you felt about Jisung and wanted to give you some advice—something to help ease the burden you’d carried for so long.

You agreed to meet her, nervous energy coursing through you. You picked out a small rose for Jisung, the perfect shade of red, and made your way to the café. When you arrived, Nari was already there, absentmindedly stirring a cup of tea. She looked up when she saw you, offering a smile, but it was the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"Hey," she greeted, her voice light but hesitant. "Thanks for meeting me."

"Of course," you replied, trying to sound steady despite the nervous flutter in your chest. "What’s up?"

Nari hesitated, her gaze flickering to the rose in your hand before meeting your eyes again. She took a deep breath, and you could tell something was weighing heavily on her.

"I wanted to talk to you about something... something important," she said, her voice quieter now, more serious.

Your stomach tightened with unease. "Okay?"

She fiddled with the edge of her sleeve, taking a moment before continuing. "I know how close you and Jisung are. And... I’ve noticed how you look at him."

Your cheeks flushed with heat, a wave of panic crashing over you. "W-What do you mean?" you stammered, unsure of what she was getting at.

"You like him, don’t you?" she asked gently, her voice almost apologetic, as if she already knew the answer.

You froze. There was no point denying it. Not when she’d already seen straight through you. The truth hung in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. You nodded slowly, the grip on the rose tightening as you spoke. "Yeah. I do."

Nari bit her lip, her expression softening with sympathy. "I figured. That’s why I thought I should tell you before you... before you do anything." She trailed off, clearly struggling to find the right words.

Your heart dropped into your stomach. "What about you and Jisung?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Nari shifted in her seat, her eyes avoiding yours for a moment. Then, slowly, she met your gaze again, her expression filled with something that looked like guilt.

"We’ve been seeing each other," she said, her voice small but resolute. "For a little while now."

The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the wind out of you. You blinked, trying to process what she had just said. This couldn’t be real. Jisung hadn’t said anything...nothing about her, nothing about being with anyone.

"You’re... together?" you asked, barely able to form the words.

Nari nodded, her face etched with a kind of remorse. "It’s still new," she said quietly, "but I thought it was better to tell you now. I didn’t want you to find out in a way that would hurt more."

Hurt. The irony of her words felt like salt in the wound. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The rose in your hand suddenly felt like a cruel joke, its vibrant petals mocking you. The confession you’d been building up for so long, the one you’d been so certain of, had just become meaningless.

"I’m sorry," Nari said softly, her voice laced with sincerity. "I didn’t mean for this to happen. But... I really care about him."

You swallowed, forcing yourself to smile, even though it felt like it would tear you apart. "It’s fine," you said, though the words felt hollow. "Really."

But it wasn’t fine. Not at all.

The rest of the conversation blurred as she went on about how happy Jisung made her, about how she never expected this to happen, but how she had to be honest with you. Every word felt like a knife twisting deeper, but you held it together, nodding at the right times, forcing yourself to listen.

When you finally left the café, you didn’t even look back. The rose you’d clutched in your hand found its way into the nearest trash can, the delicate petals crushed under your trembling fingers, a symbol of everything you could never have.

---------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks after Valentine’s Day, life had settled into an uneasy rhythm. You buried your feelings deeper than ever, convincing yourself that it was better this way. You were still Jisung’s best friend, the one he turned to when he needed to laugh, vent, or just be himself. But each moment spent with him was a bittersweet reminder of what you could never have, an ache that lingered, stubborn and relentless.

Then, one evening, your phone buzzed with a call from him, Jisung.

“Hey, can we talk? There’s something I need to tell you.”

Your stomach flipped, unease settling over you like a heavy weight. His tone was more serious than usual, sending a chill through your body. Was he about to bring up what you had been trying so hard to bury? You hesitated, but finally replied, your heart pounding.

“Of course. What’s up?”

“Let’s meet on the rooftop of campus. I’ll be there in 20.”

A knot tightened in your stomach as you agreed.

The rooftop -yours and his safe place. It was the space where you had shared confessions, secrets, things that shouldn’t be seen by the world. You both had always come here to escape, to be yourselves away from prying eyes.

You arrived early, anxiety crawling up your spine with every step. The campus was eerily quiet at night, and you slipped through the building’s doors, heading up to the rooftop. The familiar view of the city lights was comforting, but tonight, it couldn’t settle your nerves.

When Jisung arrived, he was different. His playful grin was absent, replaced by a serious expression. His eyes, usually filled with warmth and mischief, held a weight you hadn’t seen before. Your chest tightened at the sight.

“Hey,” you greeted, forcing a smile that felt like a mask, as you turned to face him.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice unusually soft. He didn’t meet your gaze immediately, instead fiddling nervously with the hem of his hoodie sleeves...a habit you knew well.

“Everything okay?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light, even though your heart felt like it was going to explode.

He took a deep breath before lifting his gaze to meet yours. His eyes were steady, but there was something burdened in them, something he hadn’t said yet.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and... I didn’t know how to tell you. But I have to.”

Your heart sank, the weight of his words sinking in before you could even process them. What was ge about to tell you ? That he and Nari were becoming serious? That he didn’t want to stay friends anymore?

“I’m leaving Seoul,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs. “What?”

“I got accepted into a music program in Busan,” he explained, his hands clenching into fists. “It’s an incredible opportunity, like a dream come true. But it means... I have to leave.”

Your mind went blank, your body feeling like it was trapped in quicksand. Jisung had always talked about his passion for music, about creating something that meant something. You were proud of him, truly, but the thought of him leaving, of him being so far away, was unbearable.

“When?” you managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.

“In a week,” he said, his eyes searching yours, looking for understanding. “I didn’t want to tell you until everything was finalized. I just... I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Your chest tightened as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You looked away, staring blankly at the city below. “A week? That’s... so soon.”

“I know,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. “But it’s something I have to do. You understand that, right?”

You nodded, forcing the lump in your throat down, even though your heart was breaking. “Yeah, of course. It’s your dream. You’d be crazy not to go.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Jisung talked about the program, his excitement and nervousness spilling over as he shared every detail. You listened, offered words of encouragement, even joked with him to lighten the mood. But as soon as you were alone, everything you had been holding back came crashing down.

----------------------------------------------------------

The week passed in a blur, each day bringing you closer to the inevitable. And then, it was the day of his departure.

You met him at the train station, your chest heavy with the weight of goodbye. He was standing there, his suitcases at his feet, hoodie pulled up against the chill of the early morning. The finality of the moment was suffocating, the space between you growing with each passing second.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice low as you approached.

“Hey,” you replied, forcing a smile that felt like it might shatter any second.

Neither of you spoke right away, the sound of the bustling station drowning out the silence that hung between you. Neither of you could find the words that needed to be said.

“This isn’t goodbye,” he said finally, his voice resolute, though there was a tremor of uncertainty in his eyes. “I’ll text you every day. I’ll call. We’ll stay in touch, okay?”

You nodded, the tears that had been threatening to fall finally escaping. “Yeah. We will.”

“Hey,” he said gently, stepping closer and pulling you into a hug. His arms were warm, steady, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to forget everything else. You breathed in deeply, memorizing the way he felt, the way his heartbeat synced with yours.

“You’re going to be okay,” he whispered, his chin resting on top of your head. “I promise.”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you simply clung to him, unwilling to let go, as though by holding on just a little longer, you could freeze this moment in time.

When the announcement for his train came over the speakers, he pulled away, his hands lingering on your shoulders. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

He gave you one last smile: a small, sincere smile, before grabbing his bags and heading toward the platform. You watched him walk away, your heart breaking with every step, every inch between you and him.

As the train began to pull away, you told yourself it wasn’t the end. That you’d see him again. That things would go back to the way they were.

But deep down, you knew better. Something had changed, something unspoken, something that couldn’t be undone. And though you didn’t know what the future held, you knew one thing for sure,it could never be the same again....

---------------------------------------------------------

The sunlight poured through your window, bright and uninvited, cutting through the darkness of the room. You groaned, burying your face deeper into the pillow, desperate to escape the sharp ring of the alarm that sliced through the silence. The day ahead already felt heavy, as if the weight of the world had settled on your shoulders before it even began. The memories that had resurfaced the night before, memories you had buried for years...still clung to your mind, unrelenting and vivid. Jisung was back in your life, but the gap of eight years between you was an insurmountable distance...those unanswered questions, the unspoken truths, and the silent wishes hung between you like an invisible wall that neither of you could breach.

You dragged yourself out of bed, the grogginess still clinging to you like a second skin, your body protesting against the demands of the day. The kitchen greeted you with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee, the scent wrapping around you like a brief respite from the chaos swirling inside your mind. You leaned against the counter, staring blankly out the window, watching the familiar morning rush of Seoul. People hurried past, weaving in and out of the crowded streets with practiced precision, their steps as frantic as your thoughts. The city felt different now, with Jisung back in it. Or maybe it was you who felt different...changed by the weight of the years that had passed and the memories that refused to stay buried.

It had been weeks since that fateful café meeting....the first time you had seen him again after so many years of silence. Since then, you and Jisung had slipped into an almost familiar rhythm, as though time had somehow softened the sharp edges of the past. Late-night texts, spontaneous meetups, shared laughter, it all seemed to flow with ease, as though no time had passed at all. But beneath the surface of every smile, every joke, every touch, there was something deeper—a shadow of the past, a lingering ache, a question that neither of you dared to ask. The years apart, the buried feelings, and the uncertainty of where you stood now,all of it hovered between you, a constant presence neither of you could escape.

You had resolved, at least for the time being, to keep things light. To avoid venturing into territory that might reopen old wounds. After all, wasn't it better to just be his friend than risk losing him altogether? The logic made sense, the choice seemed rational. But your heart, stubborn as always, refused to follow any kind of logic. It ached for him in ways you couldn’t control, pulling you in directions you weren’t ready to go. No matter how hard you tried to push the feelings down, to suppress the memories that wanted to flood back to the surface, they remained, relentless, unyielding, impossible to ignore.

And so, you stood there, staring out at the city that felt both familiar and foreign, wondering if the past was something you could ever truly outrun...

----------------------------------------------------------

That afternoon, you found yourself standing in front of the same café where everything had started—where you’d seen Jisung for the first time in eight long years. But today, it wasn’t a chance encounter. This meeting had a purpose, planned and initiated by him.

Jisung’s call from the morning had been simple and vague, yet it had thrown you off balance:

“Let’s grab lunch? I’ve got a surprise for you.”

A surprise. With Jisung, that could mean anything...something small and silly, or something that could shift the ground beneath your feet. Either way, your heart had been racing ever since.

Pushing open the door to the café, the familiar chime of the bell above welcomed you. Your eyes scanned the room until they landed on him. He was already at your usual table by the window, waving at you with that familiar boyish grin. His hair was slightly messy, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up casually, and he looked so at ease, so natural, that it was almost enough to lull you into believing nothing had changed.

“Hey, you’re early,” you said as you slid into the seat across from him, feigning nonchalance to hide the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him.

“Rare moment of responsibility,” he quipped, setting his phone down on the table. “Don’t get used to it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I wasn’t planning to.”

As the waitress came to take your order, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him, trying to read the mood. There was a sparkle in his eyes, an almost childlike excitement, and you couldn’t help but feel curious and maybe a little nervous.

“So,” you started once the waitress left, “are you going to tell me what this surprise is, or are you just going to keep me guessing?”

Jisung leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. “Patience. Let’s eat first.”

You narrowed your eyes at him but played along. Lunch passed in a blur of conversation and laughter. He told you about his time in Busan, the struggles of chasing his dreams, the doubts that crept in on sleepless nights, and the small moments of triumph that kept him going. You shared stories of Seoul, talking about everything from the daily grind to the little changes in the city he used to know so well.

There was something comforting about it all, like slipping into a well-worn rhythm. But beneath the surface of your laughter and casual conversation was the unspoken truth, the questions, the what-ifs, the emotions that threatened to rise to the surface with every shared glance.

As the meal drew to a close, your patience finally snapped.

“Alright, spill it,” you said, leaning forward, your curiosity getting the better of you. “What’s the big surprise?”

Jisung’s grin turned sheepish as he reached into his bag, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped package. He held it out to you with an almost nervous energy.

“It’s nothing huge,” he said, his voice softening. “But I saw this and thought of you.”

You blinked, staring at the package in his hands. “You didn’t have to....”

“Just open it,” he interrupted, his eyes alight with anticipation.

You hesitated only for a moment before carefully peeling away the wrapping. What you revealed made your breath catch. It was a leather-bound notebook, beautifully embossed with intricate designs. But it wasn’t just the notebook that made your heart stumble.

As you opened it, the first few pages revealed doodles, small, playful sketches that were unmistakably his. Interspersed with the doodles were notes, scribbled in his familiar handwriting, filled with inside jokes and tiny fragments of your shared past. Flipping further, you found photos tucked between pages, memories you had long forgotten brought back to life in vivid detail.

“Is this…?” you murmured, your voice trailing off as your fingers skimmed over the pages, taking in every detail.

“It’s kind of like a scrapbook,” Jisung explained, rubbing the back of his neck. “I found some of our old stuff while unpacking and thought... I don’t know, you might like it. I started putting it together, and… yeah.”

Your fingers trembled slightly as you traced the edge of a photo - a candid shot of the two of you from college, your younger selves caught mid-laughter.

“Jisung, this is…” You looked up at him, your voice catching in your throat. “It’s amazing. Thank you.”

He smiled, the shyness in his expression softening into something warmer. “I figured it’s about time we started filling in the gaps, you know? From all those years apart.”

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. “Yeah. It’s perfect.”

But as you stared down at the notebook again, a bittersweet ache filled your chest. Every page, every sketch, every photo spoke of a connection you cherished. Yet they also served as a reminder of everything you couldn’t have. For all the love and care that had gone into this gift, for all the memories it brought back, there was one truth that hung in the air, unspoken and unchangeable.

Jisung didn’t feel the same way about you.

And no amount of shared nostalgia could rewrite that fact...

Later, as he walked you home, the air between you was filled with the kind of easy conversation that came naturally with him, light-hearted jokes, shared laughter, and fleeting glances that felt like secrets. It was almost as if the years apart hadn’t happened, as if the weight of the past had somehow dissolved in the rhythm of your steps. For a fleeting moment, it felt like old times.

His presence beside you was a quiet comfort, grounding you in a way you hadn’t realized you’d missed. The sound of his sneakers scuffing lightly against the pavement, the soft hum of the city around you, it all felt familiar, like slipping into a favorite old sweater that had been tucked away for too long.

“Thanks again for the notebook,” you said as you reached your building, clutching the gift tightly against your chest. “Seriously, it’s the best thing I’ve gotten in… well, years.”

He turned to you, his grin widening as he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it.”

There was something about the way he looked at you just then, a flicker in his eyes, warm and unguarded, that made your pulse stutter. The city lights reflected faintly in his gaze, and for one impossible second, you thought you saw something there. Something deeper. Something more.

But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by his usual boyish charm. He smiled and took a playful step backward, rocking on his heels. “Goodnight, bestie.”

Your laugh came out soft and a little strained, the word bestie stinging in a way you hadn’t expected. It was a reminder of the line he had drawn between you, one he didn’t seem to realize you were desperate to cross.

“Goodnight, Jisung,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

You stood there, watching as he walked away, his figure growing smaller with each step until he was just a shadow against the glow of the streetlights. Your chest felt heavy, the ache of unspoken words pressing against your ribs.

For a moment, the urge to stop him surged within you, stronger than ever. To call out his name, to tell him everything...

But you stopped yourself. And for the first time in years, you let yourself wonder: maybe it wasn’t about what you said or didn’t say. Maybe it was about what he felt or didn’t feel in return ?

---------------------------------------------------------

The days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, Jisung’s return to your life had started to take its toll. Spending time with him felt like walking a tightrope, balanced precariously between joy and heartache. Every laugh you shared, every inside joke that came rushing back, every moment spent together,it was everything you’d ever wanted. But it was also a cruel reminder of everything you couldn’t have.

The little things were the hardest to bear. The way his laughter still made your heart skip, the way he instinctively remembered your favorite snacks or noticed the smallest changes in your mood. The way his voice softened when he said your name, as if it was a word meant to be spoken with care. Every interaction felt like it was pulling you deeper into an emotional quicksand. No matter how much you told yourself to keep things casual, to not overthink, the feelings you’d buried years ago rose to the surface, stronger and more relentless than ever.

It was exhausting. The constant battle within yourself...the longing to be close to him and the fear of being hurt again. The more time you spent with Jisung, the clearer it became: your heart wasn’t built to endure this. Not again.

So, you did the only thing you thought might save you. You started to pull away.

At first, it was subtle. A missed text here, a vague excuse there.

When he asked to hang out, you’d claim you were busy with work or that you weren’t feeling well. You convinced yourself it was temporary, that a little distance would give you the time and space you needed to get your emotions under control.

He didn’t question it at first. When you started skipping out on coffee dates or responding to his texts hours late with apologetic emojis and half-hearted excuses, Jisung didn’t push. He let it slide, brushing it off as you being busy or caught up with work. “It happens,” he’d say with a grin, his tone light and understanding. That was just who he was, always patient, always willing to give you the space you needed.

But as the days stretched into weeks, the excuses piled up, and the distance between you became impossible to ignore. Every invitation was met with, “Maybe next time,” or, “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.” You stopped lingering over late-night texts, stopped sharing the small details of your day that you used to send him without a second thought.

And every time you turned him down, every time you chose silence over connection, you felt the guilt clawing at you. It was suffocating, that constant push and pull between wanting to protect yourself and not wanting to hurt him. But in your mind, this was the only way. Keeping your heart intact meant keeping your distance.

Except, it wasn’t working.

Avoiding Jisung didn’t dull your feelings, it only made them sharper. Every time you ignored his text, you’d find yourself staring at your phone minutes later, wondering if he was thinking of you. Every time you saw something that reminded you of him.... a song you both loved, a stupid meme he’d laugh at, you had to fight the urge to send it to him. The more you tried to pull away, the more you missed him.

And it didn’t take long for Jisung to notice.

At first, it was subtle, small, hesitant comments when you did see him. “You’ve been really busy lately, huh?” he’d say, his tone casual but his eyes searching. You’d nod and mumble something about work, trying to avoid the way his gaze lingered on you, as if he was trying to read between the lines.

But Jisung wasn’t the type to let things go for long. One day, after you’d bailed on plans for the third time that week, he called and said something that stopped you in your tracks....

“Did I do something wrong?”

You stared at the screen, your chest tightening. The words were simple, but they carried the weight of everything you’d been trying to avoid.

“If I messed up, just tell me. I don’t want things to get weird between us.”

Weird. That’s what he thought this was, a misunderstanding, a bump in the road. He didn’t know how hard you were trying to keep your feelings buried, how every moment with him felt like walking a tightrope between happiness and heartbreak.

Your fingers hovered over the mute button, a dozen responses swirling in your mind. You wanted to tell him the truth, to spill everything you’d been holding back. But the thought of losing him, of ruining what you still had, froze you in place.

Finally, you answered back “It’s not you. I’ve just been overwhelmed with work. I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise.”

He replied almost instantly.

“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything, yeah? I’m here.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, but the relief was short-lived. Because as much as you wanted to believe that he’d buy your excuse, you could feel the doubt in his words.

And you knew, deep down, that you couldn’t keep this up forever....

----------------------------------------------------------

It had been over a month since you’d last seen him when Jisung finally confronted you. The day had been long, and you were heading home, headphones on, the city noise muffled by a soothing playlist. The sun was setting, painting the sky in soft hues of gold and pink, and you were thankful for the solitude. That was until your name cut through the air, sharp and unmistakable.

“Y/N!”

You froze, your heart sinking as you recognized his voice. Turning, you saw Jisung jogging toward you, his expression a mix of determination and something you couldn’t quite place,anger, maybe? Concern?

“Jisung,” you said, pulling out your headphones, your voice tinged with guilt.

“What’s going on?” he demanded, his tone firm but not unkind.

“What do you mean?” you replied, feigning confusion as you shifted your weight nervously.

“Don’t do that,” he said, stepping closer, his gaze piercing. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’ve been avoiding me, Y/N. For weeks. And I want to know why."

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lied weakly, looking anywhere but at him.

“Really?” he said, crossing his arms. “Because it feels like I’ve been chasing a ghost. You barely respond to my texts, you cancel plans left and right and when I try to call, it goes straight to voicemail. So, tell me....what’s really going on?”

Your chest tightened, and you could feel your carefully constructed walls cracking. “I’ve been busy,” you mumbled, knowing how hollow the excuse sounded.

“Busy?” he repeated, his frustration evident. “Too busy to even say hi? Too busy to talk to someone you called your best friend?”

The word “best friend” stung, and you flinched visibly.

Jisung noticed. “What is it?” he asked, his tone softening. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you said quickly, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “It’s not you. It’s...”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “Don’t say it’s you, because we both know that’s not true.”

You sighed deeply, your shoulders slumping. “Can we not do this here?”

He hesitated, then gestured toward a nearby bench under a line of cherry blossom trees that had already begun to bloom, their petals swirling gently in the breeze. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

The walk to the bench felt like an eternity, and when you finally sat down, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you said at last, your voice trembling.

“Do what?” he asked, leaning closer, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“Pretend,” you whispered. “Pretend like I’m okay just being your friend when I’m not.”

He blinked, clearly taken aback. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” You swallowed hard, your heart racing. “I’m saying I’ve been in love with you for years, Jisung. Since college. And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to ruin what we had. But then Nari...”

“Nari?” he interrupted, his confusion stark.

“Yeah, Nari,” you said, bitterness creeping into your voice. “The girl you were dating. The one who told me you weren’t interested in me, that you only saw me as a friend.”

His face shifted from confusion to disbelief. “Y/N, I don’t know who Nari is.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean you don’t know her? She told me...”

“I don’t care what she told you,” he said, his voice firm. “It wasn’t true. I never said that. And for the record, I’ve never dated anyone named Nari.”

You stared at him, the ground beneath you seeming to shift. “But she…”

“Y/N,” he said, his voice soft but resolute, “if you’re talking about that random girl who used to hang out at our college meetups, she wasn’t even my type. She was just… there.”

Your mind reeled, the memory of Nari’s smug smile flashing in your mind. “She lied?”

“Looks like it,” he said, his tone laced with frustration. “But that’s not what matters right now.”

“What does?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

“You,” he said simply. “And the fact that I’ve been in love with you since college, too.”

Your eyes widened, and you felt your heart stop. “What?”

“I’m serious,” he said, leaning closer. “I thought I was being obvious back then. I always made excuses to be around you, to make you laugh, to sit next to you in every class. But you never seemed interested, so I… I let it go.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, the weight of years of misunderstandings crashing down on you. “I thought you didn’t care,” you said, your voice breaking.

And I thought you didn’t,” he replied, his hand reaching out to cover yours. “But I’m done assuming.”

He leaned closer, his gaze searching yours. “Tell me I’m not too late.”

You shook your head, tears spilling over as a laugh bubbled out of you. “You’re not too late.”

His smile was soft, tentative, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was happening. And then, slowly, he leaned in, his hand cupping your cheek as his lips met yours.

The world seemed to still, the noise of the city fading into nothing. His kiss was gentle but sure, as though he’d been waiting for this moment as long as you had. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping him like he might disappear if you let go.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he let out a shaky breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

You laughed softly, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “Maybe I do.”

A loud meow broke the moment, and both of you turned to see a stray cat sitting by Jisung’s feet, its wide eyes fixed on him as if demanding attention.

Jisung groaned, though his smile never wavered. “Even the cats can’t leave me alone.”

You laughed, wiping at your tears. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

“A sign of what?” he asked, his grin turning playful.

“That you’re stuck with me now,” you teased, squeezing his hand.

“Good,” he said, his voice warm and certain. “Because I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

As the two of you walked home hand in hand, the stray cat trailing behind like a self-appointed chaperone companion, you couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right....

*ੈ✩Tags - @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @yangbbokari @theo4eve   @livelovelaughmiko @silverstarburst @galaxycatdrawz @skzoologist @shua-f4lmings @iknowyouknowminho @krisstheidiot @hyunjinhoexxx @gho-ster @ezlynkisses @elmoslungcancer @b1nn1e-1s-cut3 @seungseung-minmin @cuddlylonelyperson @jeonginsleftcheek @oreoqueen @freekyfangirl

Comment your @ If you wish to be added or removed from this list ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

*ੈ✩ENDNOTE - Everything Here is a work of fiction and my own imagination. This does not represent the real life characteristics of Stray Kids. Make sure to like, reblog comment, and follow me for new updates!

[jungaji]

ghostbusterヾ(ﾟДﾟ;ヾ) | k.jw

synopsis: in the week leading up to halloween, you're haunted by dreams of a faceless man who promises you'll meet soon. but things aren’t as simple as they seem, and the line between dreams and reality begin to blur when cryptic messages and strange events unfold on the night of haechan's halloween bash. you're left questioning: who—or what—is this mysterious man?

pairing: kim jungwoo x fem!reader feat. mark lee & lee haechan

genre: one-shot social media au, written portions (7 dream journal entries), supernatural, comedy

authors note: hihiii this was meant to be posted on halloween LMAO oh well ANYWAYS this smau is my baby 🥹💖 im finally getting it out of the drafts and into the world waaahh i hope you’ll enjoy!!!

also disclaimer, this is really long (i got carried away ToT) reblogs & replies are greatly appreciated <33

YN’S DREAM JOURNAL

DREAM ENTRY #560

28/10/2024

i dreamt that i worked at an ice cream shop with this guy named, woo? he didn’t have a face (kinda creepy) but he had pretty pink hair and he was really tall! we had to work together to design a new logo for the shop & we fought over making it olaf inspired or spiderman inspired (mark is corrupting my mind) we played rock, paper, scissors to decide and i obviously won!!! he told me we needed to have a rematch when we see each other again (?) anyways, the spiderman ice cream logo turned out really cute & our manager loved it. 10/10 dream

DREAM ENTRY #561

29/10/2024

dreamt of woo (the faceless guy) again today! we were playing dress to impress together & the theme was halloween. he dressed as a ghost & i dressed as a zombie! we duo-ed & hit pose 28 as a team and some kid in the server told us we had no taste & woo went crazy on them 😭 we got kicked out of the server after & we were somehow transported to some kind of harry potter universe (?) hyuck was there too & i tried talking to him but he ignored me & tried to KILL ME instead!!! woo swooped in to protect me though, he killed dream hyuck & told me he would steal me away from hyuck when we meet (?) because i deserve better friends

DREAM ENTRY #562

30/10/2024

i had the perfect life in last night’s dream!!! i had like a million friends & i was super rich 🤑 the only factor was that i was a vegetable (?) oh! & woo was in my dream again today too (third night in a row) anyways, we were both some kind of vegetable & we had to compete in a vegetable eating competition? (so basically cannibalism..) we won the competition though & we got transported to this super cute studio ghibli inspired house >.< woo mentioned how we should binge all the movies together when we meet!

DREAM ENTRY #563

31/10/2024

i dreamt that i was an idol! but i was also a mosquito (?) woo was with me once again, as well as jaehyun! (which is odd considering i haven’t seen him in a long time) anyways, the three of us just flew around and sang together, it was cute 🥹 jaehyun had a schedule after so he left first, & me and woo went to watch the sunset!!! it was so pretty, an ombre of orange & pink (my favourite colours ToT) — woo kept talking about how he would bring me to watch the sunset when we meet! usually i would wake up right after woo says something like that but i didn’t last night so i asked him what he meant by meeting (?) & he told me to look for someone dressed as olaf at hyuck’s halloween party tonight (i guess i’ll be anna then :p)

RECENTLY DELETED

DREAM ENTRY #019

31/10/2021

i dreamt that i was grocery shopping with woo! he kept talking about some guy named, yuno (?) i thought it was his boyfriend at first but he assured me that they were just good friends (also, roommates? i think.) anyways, we bought soo much halloween candy & we went back to my place to watch ghostbusters!!! before i woke up, i asked woo what he was wearing to hyuck’s party so i could spot him easily & he told me he would be dressed as rose..? from titanic 😭 (i don’t wanna be jack but when duty calls!!!)

DREAM ENTRY #119

31/10/2022

dreamt that i was cycling with woo at hundred acre woods! it was so fun >.< we talked to winnie the pooh & he even shared some honey with us !!! but after we ate the honey, the whole scenery (?) changed & it became that one winnie the pooh horror movie 😭 we got chased by him and piglet i woke up in cold swear (NO joke) also didn’t get to ask woo if i would meet him at hyuck’s party tonight or not :(

DREAM ENTRY #390

31/10/2023

i dreamt that i was baking a cake with mark! but when i turned to ask him where the sugar was, woo was standing there instead of mark Ö it was confusing at first but we just continued baking & woo kept talking about ghostface (?) ,, halfway through the conversation, we were suddenly sucked (?) into the cake 😭 we were inside of this cake house (chocolate cake!!!) & woo started eating all the funiture HAHAHA anyways, after eating we got tired so we laid on the chocolate bed & i asked if i would meet him somewhere soon and he mentioned hyuck’s party! he said to keep an eye out for that girl from twilight & then i woke up :( (guess i’ll be edward for tonight)

[anarchy-and-piglins]

I probably won't write anything for it, but I need to share this with the world and I felt you would appreciate it: Em Duo/Boreal Trio "Knight and Day (2010)" Au, (but platonic)

Techno is flying home for an event of Skeppy's, they were orphans in the same group home and Skeppy would kill him if he wasn't there for the event (in canon it's a wedding, but a graduation or something would do) when he gets bumped into by a blond man in the airport. Man kindly helps him up, brushes him off, tells him "it's my fault, mate," and disappears. Techno goes through security, seeing glimpses of the blond man as he goes. When he gets through the security, the man bumps into him again. They chat a bit and Techno finds it weirdly easy to talk to this guy. It's like they've known each other for years. Turns out they're headed to the same gate, but when Techno gets there he's told he's not on the flight. The blond man says something cryptic about things happening for a reason and is checked onto the plane. Techno goes to wait for the next flight and is surprised twenty minutes later to be told there was a mistake and there is room on the plane for him.

He gets on the (empty, like really really empty there's maybe five guys total and the crew on the) plane, seated kitty corner from the blond man from before, who looks a bit perturbed that he's there, but still friendly. They take off and Techno and the guy, Phil, have a nice chat as they fly towards Snowchester. About halfway through, Techno spills something on himself because of turbulence. He excuses himself from the conversation to go clean up and Phil says he'll walk around the cabin for a bit and follows him back to the bathroom. When Techno comes out of the bathroom, Phil is nervously holding two drinks and after handing one to Techno explains that the pilot and the co-pilot and the crew and all of the passengers have uh... well, uh... well they're dead. And uh, they're gonna be landing. Soon. Like really soon. See, the co-pilot shot the pilot after Phil shot the co-pilot, but everything's okay, Phil's a wonderful pilot himself, he'll get them down, and everything is completely under control.

Phil's actually a secret agent trying to stop a top secret project "Zephyr" created by a kid called Ranboo from falling into the wrong hands. He'd used Techno as a mule to get the "Zephyr" through security, and was supposed to be walking into a trap on that plane, which is why he'd tried to warn Techno to stay off it. But who's gonna turn down an earlier flight and a free upgrade, huh? So the agency who's trying to get the "Zephyr" put Techno back on the plane to see what would happen. So now Phil is responsible for keeping civilian Techno alive while Techno panics his way through multiple occasions of extreme danger where Phil has to get them out of there by the skin of their teeth, often by drugging or knocking Techno out for the greater good.

Thoughts?

-- @goat-boo-truther

I had never in my life heard of this movie but this sounds like a very amusing plot. And I'm definitely a fan of 'just a guy Techno' in any circumstance, so that'd be very funny here. If you do ever decide to write it, I would read this for sure hehe

[blorbologist]

For the Spotify prompt: Ashton and either Essek or the Bright Queen with number 42 (the answer to everything)?

42. Kids Again, Artist Vs Poet

[Went a bit of a bittersweet direction with this but ohhh boy]

Ashton Greymoore isn’t an orphan. They aren’t really a ‘normal’ kid either, though. Normal kids don’t -

Wait. Hold up - maybe it’s easier to start with what Ashton is. Because Ashton is: a kid, sixteen as of a few days ago, a huge pain in the ass per his dad and the teachers, and really fucking confused.

They thought they had it all figured out. So what, they didn’t look like their old man - lots of kids didn’t! Didn’t change nothing! I mean, hypothetically he could be an orphan once - but who gives a shit about who those parents were. He has a dad.

Ashton Greymoore doesn’t know why he has the name though. Greymoore. Kids tend to match with their parents. Or at least one of them. When he asked, he just got a cryptic bullshit answer about the name being an heirloom. 

He has a lot of those - heirlooms. A wardrobe full of shit, like an old-ass helmet and a piece of yellow-painted metal. There was some cooler stuff in the dresser, but he might have gotten it all confiscated when he got caught with the immovable rod in class.

Apparently weird ass dreams are something else they inherited. Or were given. Whatever.

Except they’re popping up when he’s sure he’s awake, and when he’s fucking around with his friends, and when he’s playing hookey, and when he hears a storm overhead and when he tugs at vines on a fencepost and when he listens to howling late at night and when he sees a rat and when he’s eating cookies or scones or fish for some fucking reason -

Ashton Greymoore isn’t an orphan. They aren’t - they have a great family, and awesome friends, and all that shit. So why do they feel like they’ve lost everyone?

“Ashton!”

Of course they didn’t hear their fucking dad coming. They measure their breaths. Completely fucking fail to when the knock knock knock sounds right above their head, bounces off all the metal shit in here with them.

“I know you are in there, young man. Would you like to come out, or should I come in?” There’s a pause. “Or would you prefer I left?”

He doesn’t feel like giving an answer. Which is a mistake, because a classic fuck off would have solved his problems - but, shit, being quiet is concerning.

Dad doesn’t even need to touch the wardrobe to open the doors - Ashton doesn’t need to look up as the faint magelight flickers down. Really no point to it: his eyesight is way worse in the dark, just like how his ears are round and his skin isn’t purple.

There’s a flutter of robes as his father floats to the floor. A soft sound as he lets himself land. They’ve never been the hugging sort of father-son duo, but the quiet company is always a big relief.

“Ashton,” Essek says carefully. “I, ah. Am probably due to explain consecution to you.”

Send me a character / pair of characters / AU & a number from 1 to 100 & I'll write a little something inspired by that song!

[kaardbord]

Wanted to share here, so here's what I think The Bad Kids would be like in a Gravity Falls AU (an au that I am currently writing)

Riz - very Dipper-like, but a loner when he comes into town. Was supposed to be living with Arthur Aguefort, but he left 3 days in and left him with the Thistlesprings. He has his dad's journal that he made as he was investigating the strange things in Elmville, and he uses it to help him investigate the numerous secrets in town. Him and Gorgug start out as reluctant friends but end up as loving brothers.

Adaine - She spends a lot more time out of the Abernant home, mostly because she goes to the library often just to get out. She's interested in the cryptic history of Elmville, but has been unable to do any actual deep investigation outside of history books. She's also magicless (as is the rest of the town, sans a few people) but besides that she's pretty much the same.

(The other Bad Kids aren't AS fully fleshed out but I do have ideas for them all)

Fig Faeth - Sandra Lynn travels a lot, so that caused Fig's rebellious era much earlier in her life. She's less visibly a demon, but she has pretty much the same "emo teenager" personality she had in Freshman year. They've stopped in Elmville and are staying with Gilear for now who yes is still Sandra Lynn's ex-husband. Him and Fig get along fairly easier since she never really had a chance to hate him, but their relationship is still strained.

Gorgug - Probably the most similar to his FH self. He's a freshman without many friends, and is very interested in art and music. However, he started helped his parents with engineering at an earlier age, and has a good understanding of technology compared to most others his age.

Fabian - The hometown hero, more so because of Bill's intimidation than any of his own merit. (people don't really like him) He's not as skilled at fighting, and he is very much the brash, cocky guy he was in Freshman Year. He and Adaine know each other and they have a slight disdain for each other, but haven't interacted for it to be anything concrete. He's a lot less popular during the summer, when everyone is outside of school and he's not playing bloodrush.

Kristen - A lot more in her element here, especially since the Helioic religion is a lot more prevalent in this Elmville. She has a very big interest in religion, and is well-versed in the fifteen most common religion in Spyre, as well as sparce info on thirty others. She acts almost as an "in" to the conspiracy that the Dawn family is the head of (which would be the main background plot in "season 1")

Other miscellaneous info, as mentioned before, the Helioic religion and specifically the Dawn family are sort of the big mystery of Season 1 (that really isn't a "big mystery"

The "Season 2" villain is undecided, but imagine a much longer, full arc of the Nightmare Forest, and that's about what I'm planning currently.

Oh yeah also Riz and Adaine are basically the Dipper and Mabel duo of the story. That's about all I have for it currently, but I've got vague ideas for other NPCs, shorter stories, the world of Spyre where magic is much less common, etcetc

[medlarmeadows]

httyd au but angelstone. rumi is this super strong and skilled dragonrider, riding a brilliantly white nightwing named sunny, while peter is at the bottom of the ranks with his small brown dragon named lizard. everyone adores and looks up to rumi, while peter is ignored and nobody ever wants to partner with him for patrols. he has a tendency to chicken out when facing foes, leaving behind his teammates to face them alone (he never admits its because everybody would say he sucked at the job, never admits that the constant condescension brings down his own belief in himself).

(more under the cut!)

one day, their people face a new war with another clan of dragonriders. when choosing partners, rumi unexpectedly chooses peter. everyone's shocked, some people saying "rumi are you sure? he's deadweight." but rumi stands firm in their decision. when peter asks them why later on, all rumi gives is a cryptic "we were meant to be together, peter sqloint."

flash forward and they're actually such a great duo!!! during fights, peter is tempted to turn tail and flee, but rumi is always there with encouraging words and he's standing his ground (in the air) and continues fighting alongside rumi. everybody around winders how this nobody is suddenly excelling. and despite everything, there are still people who look down on peter, crediting his improvement to rumi alone and never acknowledging the potential peter always had inside him. all it needed was a spark

then comes a huge battle with the leader from the opposing dragonriders. you know that scene in httyd 1 where everyone thinks hiccup dies? yeah THAT. rumi and peter are fighting tooth and nail against the huge dragon that the other leader is riding. rumi gets a lucky shot, tossing the leadee off his dragon. but the enraged dragon retaliates, breathing fire against them. all of a sudden there's a loud "RUMIII", and peter is in front of them. lizard's tail knocks sunny enough to spin both sunny and rumi out of the line of fire. all rumi can do is scream for peter as they see him disappesr behind bright orange flames

rumi was angry. no, they were more than angry. they wanted vengeance. peter, sweet peter. kind and compassionate peter who saw the goodness in the world despite never receiving kindness from it. peter sqloint did not deserve to die. rumi felt a hollowing in their chest, an anguish they didn't think they would've felt months ago had they not fallen in love with peter as they had fought side by side

peter would be avenged

rumi attacks like a wraith, charging with sunny as though they were one being and not two. together, they take down the dragon and make sure that the leader was dead before descending down to the burning remains of the battlefield below to find peter.

they don't see peter first. instead, they see a brown dragon curled in on itself. rumi slowly coaxes lizard to relax, and they see peter. he's unconscious, cuts littering his face and all around his body. his leather armour is torn in several places.

rumi isn't sure he would wake up.

but somehow, he does.

and as life returned to peter, rumi felt life return to themself too. because peter was awake. peter was alive.

there's major celebrations in their island and for once, the people are acknowledging - are celebratin - peter's heroism during the final battle.

and as the celebrations die down, rumi steals peter away from the crowd to speak. and i think you can imagine what happens from then on ;)

also thanatos i guess is one of the stoic other dragonriders they always bump into who develops a soft fondness for them despite coming off as no-nonsense at first. he's the undercover wingman/cupid as somehow he ends up in the middle with both rumi and peter coming to him about their feelings for the other person (thanatos just wants to fight people damnit)

[gsstories]

Kunoichi of Norrisville

As the title says, I have had an idea for a female ninja, a Kunoichi! I told this idea to my good friend @ikari-shinsei and we have had so much talking about the relationships between the Ninjas and their respective Kunoichi!

I know this has been done before, not exactly full on original but I love how much we have developed the idea so far. So, like in most stories, the Kunoichi is the Ninja’s partner, the ying to his yang, the water to his fire, the moon to his sun, you get the idea. The Kunoichi did not originate from Norrisville nor was it involved with the Norisu clan since the beginning. In fact, before the Kunoichi came to be, they were a trio of sisters who happened to be witches, all specializing in different magical aspects: the eldest, spirits and souls; the middle, magical artifacts and weapons; and the youngest, potions and spells. The eldest and the youngest ended up passing away after an attack just after creating the Kunoichi mask. Its purpose was to let the sisters use the other sisters’ specialized magic since they had a hard time doing so on their own. Now, the middle one, the First Kunoichi, was out and about traveling, taking out any monster that came her way. Next thing she knows, she has her knife to the throat of a man in black and red ninja attire.

The Kunoichi has powers similar to the Ninja, although they are usually more spiritually connected. They have a book similar to the Ninja Nomicon called the Kunoichi Codex (I did not come up with this, it was a writer in Quotev who I shall name later!) The Codex is a bit more direct to whoever has it, considering its writer was not as cryptic as the writer of the Nomicon. The Kunoichi uses war hand fans as a primary weapon and uses a sickle as a secondary one. She has knives hidden in most of her persona and the shoes she got? They are made of metal that can cut through almost anything. (Yes, I was inspired by Carmilla Carmine from Hazbin Hotel, is it obvious-?)

This is the current Kunoichi, whose name is Gin Rose (my persona). She is in the 9th grade and while she is smart academically, she is very dumb when socializing. There is a Yokai in the stone with the Tengu called a Bakeneko, a type of cat demon. Once it was sealed away, she gained a new ability called ‘Neko Moon Strike’. Her type of fighting style is one that resembles dancing, specifically ballet, which is a thing that comes with every Kunoichi, they always incorporate dancing in their fighting. It makes them look graceful and can be extremely useful. Their legs are their most lethal weapon.

First Kuno was a stubborn, anger issues yet quite emotional woman. She was untrusting of people for a long while up until meeting First Ninja. She was… very hostile when they first met, they did not like each other at all. But as time went on, they found themselves getting closer. Eventually, they became friends and soon enough, lovers. They became engaged and cared for each other dearly, First Ninja being the one showing the most affectionate which was usually just headpats or hand holding when they were not in their suits. First Kuno would always blush! F!Kuno used to call F!Ninja a ‘fool’, and now she calls him ‘my fool’. F!Ninja calls her ‘Moonflower’ due to it being a flower she really likes and the symbol she uses in her person when she in Kunoichi form. Sadly, not long after the fight with the Sorcerer and sealing him away, she fell ill and passed away in her beloved’s arms. A tragic end to the original Duo. But death is not the end, no, it’s merely the door to a new life.

I’ll let you figure that one out :)

Have a RC9GN ish art style First Kuno!

If anyone wishes to learn more about this AU or has any ideas or headcannons, I would love to hear them! Who knows, perhaps some of those ideas can help me develop the Kunoichi role even more!

[lailatheweirdkid]

(Next crack ship, Cupid Valentine x sollux captor wit Little of headcanons. Homestuck au. Warming! I do not own any of those characters nor Homestuck or gacha world.)

[Then she aimed for my chest with love in her eye, said she aimed for my chest with love in her eye, she was walkin' around with a loaded shotgun, Ready to fire me a hot one It went bang, bang, bang, straight to my heart.] When first play Sgrub with other gacha units such as president Naomi, Xiao, Sagittarius Ellyn. Seraphic archangel Valerie or cupid server player's was none other than sollux despite the difference between the two such as personalities and race, they did work out well as duo. Valerie's angelic abilities and ability to control light/storms did go well with his psychic abilities despite his claims to not like her due to her much more extrovert and lively personality even though someone has saw him stutters over his words or blush in her presence when ask why he chose the angel. He will say she work well as healer when in reality he actually enjoy working alongside her, Cupid’s light-based powers clash somewhat humorously with Sollux’s psychic abilities. Whenever she accidentally shoot him with a love arrow due to her clumsiness, he uses his mind powers to redirect it, often resulting in a love strike on someone completely random. Dual Perspectives on Love: Cupid, the embodiment of love, and Sollux, who often sees the darker side of relationships through the lens of his dual nature, spend hours debating the true meaning of love. Their conversations would be a mix of heartfelt moments and hilarious misunderstandings, especially when Sollux’s sarcasm flies over Cupid’s head,

Literal Cupid's Curse: Sollux gains a slight “curse” from Cupid's magic—every time he tries to insult someone, instead, he accidentally ends up complimenting them, leading to goofy misunderstandings and a series of comedic events.

Playful Rivalry: Being from different worlds, they engage in playful competition regarding their abilities — Cupid challenges Sollux to aim better with his psychic powers, while Sollux teases Cupid about her “love arrows” not being able to match his “psychic projectile.”

Understanding Miscommunication: Sollux can be a bit sarcastic and cryptic, which sometimes confuses Cupid. She might initially take his jokes too seriously or misunderstand his intentions. Over time, they learn to clarify their feelings, making humor a rich part of their relationship.

[gamerbearmira]

OMG I DIDN’T KNOW THERE WAS AN ENCANTO ACCOUNT WITH CRYPTID THOUGHTS HWHDJWJJWHDA Sorry just got a little excited after seeing all the content you have. Mirabel and Dolores being just 👁️👁️ I really love it and Antonio just being a little gremlin kid yeah yeah that’s him. I love what you do with the adults too and I’m just seeing everything like 👀👀👀. I honestly didn’t think I’d find someone when I searched for ‘Encanto cryptid’ but I’m happy I came across your posts. more so because I have my own cryptid Au and I love how Dolores is infinitely 👁️👁️ in both minds but for different reasons. anyways just doing this to tell you that I love your ideas and designs so much ✨✨✨

YEAHHHHH RAHGGGG❗❗❗

That one was made by another creator and I just helped, can't take all the credit <333 BUT YES!! Indeed, we love all kinds of aus here, including creepy ones <33

Creepy staring Dolores seems to be a recurring thing...NOT THAT THAT'S BAD 🗣🗣🗣 Honestly I always think of that one drafted storyboard where it was her, Mirabel and Bruno and it was like that one Jurassic Park scene LMAOOOO

And then there's the super radical au (by queenofthedisneyverse), the more recent one, where all of them have creepy stares. GLAD YOU LOVE THE DESIGNS WEEEEEEEE

Love that <33

[ecto-stone]

sometime i think of little funny thing in FFOS AU

and like Vlad and Danny is def a popular superhero figure in universe, the Amity Park cryptic Duo per say. and since in FFOS universe you can send thing to death people by burning a paper prop of it. Some one send their Fanfiction to Phantom via Death incineration Mail. Less to Say Phantom read the whole thing and can’t look at Vlad straight in the eye for like few day withought looking like this.

[foggysirens]

okay im not a super big user of the toktok but i really did like the trend of people making edits of who they thought would be the ghostface duo of their fandom, like ‘who makes the calls’ and ‘who does the killing’, and i saw a few star wars ones but as a star wars and a scream fan i was disappointed to see that no one made an edit of who i think would be the obvious and best ghostface duo - luke and leia. like tell me that you cannot see how well leias sharp tongue and wit and lukes penchant for swinging violent weapons around wouldnt work??!! you can’t!!! and the other way around works too, leias strength and resilience in a fight and lukes cryptic and unsettling way of speaking? they would be absolutely terrifying as ghostface, add in the sibling loyalty and you’ve got an unbeatable team. like please i am seconds away from writing a scream au with them as such

[analog-cottage-gore]

Hey I saw you were looking for questions about your Wtd aus? Well i couldn't pick one so here's a question for all of them!

Hazelnut tree: What's the alison in this au like? I would love to see his dynamic with more characters and we know he ends up with hazel. I wonder what his rule following personality would look like next to winnies moral roulette wheel.

Scaly secrets: You said some of the cast were dragons? Which ones!? And what colors. Are they all the same kinda dragon or different styles?

Cryptic Dreams: Is everyone a cryptid or are some of them hunters? What are some ways they avoid the hunters using their cryptid abblites?

Superhero: what are their powers? Understandable if you haven't got that all figured out yet. Superheroes are hard. So i'm also going to ask are they all heroes or are some of them villains and vigilantes. 

Post cannon au: Who shares rooms? How many bunk beds? Or do they all get their own room?

Mixed marriages: Where did you get the idea for the kingdom names you wrote about in the snippet you posted?

Robotic fantasy (I LOVE EXTRA ANGST): I noticed we are in a lot of the same fandoms so what other fandoms exactly are being thrown into the mix here? And what's your favorite duo of a WTD character partnered with a non WTD character?

I'm sorry if it's a lot of questions I have a lot to ask! Hearing about cool stuff like this always inspires me! Gets me thinking you know? They just all sound so cool! Hope you don't mind the length!

Salty I am so fucking happy you don't even know, this is my favorite ask ever I couldn't even imagine this!!!!!! I don't mind the length the length lets me ramble about my ideas which I need to do!!!!!!

Hazelnut tree: Allison would probably secretly tag along with Hazel and Night Light, and therefore ends up talking to the whole little group that's building. Allison would hate Winnie before his redemption due to helping Litho so much. After Win's redemption though? They'd probably get along relatively well, helped by the fact that I'm pretty sure their related, and at the very least they are in HNT.

Scaly Secrets: Currently the dragons consist of; Sara, Wiatt, Carly, Mike, The Triplets, and Winnie! Sara is dark pink, Wiatt is blue, Carly is light pink, Mike is orange, the Triplets are their respective animatron main colors, and Winnie is purple. Kept the color choices simple. Currently I don't have any great ideas on designs/abilities for the dragons, but I'm working on it! (They're all technically dragon shifters btw)

Cryptic Dreams: The cryptids are all the animatronic possessers (minus Eric who has a different deal going on) and Sara and the Twins. The main plot revolves around Wiatt, Damian, Celio, and Oliver thinking all tge cryptids have been taken by cryptids since they don't know they are the cryptids. So they team up with actual cryptid hunters to find them. Carly is also in the team to try and keep everyone from finding out about the cryptids while also stopping them from getting hurt. They use their abilities in a lot of ways, mainly to trap the hunters.

Superheros: Decided to answer both at once with a list, not everyone had powers decided on yet. A lot of them use the animatronic names as alter egos, and those who don't have. Kinda bad names lol.

Heros: Starlight (Lewis)* [????? And Specialized Telekinesis], Glory (Alyssa) [Water Manipulation and Siren Song], Rex (Mike), Ribbon Dancer (Ribbion Dancer)

Vigilantes: ???? (Wiatt) [Tech Manipulation], Detective (Damian) [Power Sight], The Triplets (The Triplets), Cheer (Carly) [Super Speed]

Villains: Shadina (Sara) [Shadow Powers and Specilized Telekinesis], Tela (Oliver)* [Tech Manipulation and Specilized Telekinesis], Winnie (Carlos/Winnie), Litho (Litho) [Shadow Powers], Lolli (Liz)*, Pop (Ben)*

(*depends on where in the plot they are)

Post Canon: As a general rule, all couples and young siblings share a room. So we got:

Lewis/Wiatt

Mike/Alyssa

Oliver/Damian

Liz/Ben

Mascarade/Melody/Mimic

Eric(/Ribbion Dancer technically)

Carly

Sara

Celio (maybe, idk if they're gonna live with everyone else)

Fun fact, the house they live in is the mansion Wiatt was implied to have lived in during highschool!

Mixed Marriages: The kingdom names cam from me translating a word relating to the character who's a royal in that kingdom into Spanish and Russian before mushing them together and making it look and sound like a kingdom name.

Robotic Fantasy: Pretty much all of them. We got:

WTDW

SAMS

FNAF SB in general

ESMP

MCYT in general

Maybe some of my oc's???

Personally I like Lewis, Moon, and Pearl's dynamic. They go through some shit together.

Also!!! Bonus new AU:

Mcyt (mainly empires) and Wtdw popstar AU has been circling in my head recently, so add it to tge list of AU's

[as8bakwthesage]

Ottilie Meets Blitzwing! (Hazformers AU fanfic)

I’ve been reading so much of “Becoming A Demon” by @blitzy-blitzwing​ and am obsessed with this crossover AU between Transformers Animated and Hazbin Hotel!

While reading, I found myself wondering just how Blitzwing would meet my OC Ottilie who is definitely not like other demons in hell. For once, she’s actually polite and respectable. I’m thinking of doing a part II from Blitzwing’s point of view.

Fyi, I don’t ship them, but they’d be the most unlikely of friends.

Enjoy!

///

Ottilie had been working for Alastor for a few months now. Despite the... interesting things that had happened, she genuinely enjoyed her job. Faer was still somewhat cryptically supportive and she got along with Husk and Nifty well enough. Mimzy was a different shell to crack, but Ottilie wasn’t going to push it.

Now, Ottilie knew Alastor had plenty of servants and minions, but the day she met this one in particular, she knew something wasn’t quite... usual about him.

Alastor had requested her presence in his office when a moth demon, slightly taller than Alastor, stormed in in obvious frustration. He wore an old world war II helmet and was dressed in biege and violet with violet wings and four arms. Ottilie had never seen this demon before and it was obvious.

True to her demure nature, the newly met demon had not noticed her to the side, pouring a drink when he stood before Alastor and with his ice blue face, regarded him curiously.

“You wanted to see me?” His accent was German and his tone was neutral.

“Ah yes, welcome, Three Face!” Alastor exclaimed in his usual bombastic tone. “I need you to do a job for me.”

“Obviously.” The demon scoffed. Ottilie was reminded of Husk in that moment yet this demon didn’t have the same grumpy disposition.

“I need you to go deal with a demon. Owes me some money and hasn’t paid me.” Alastor explained. However, he must have noticed Ottilie staring silently at the duo because his gaze met hers and his eyes brightened. “Oh, Ottilie, come over here, my dear, don’t be shy.”

Ottilie’s pale blue face turned slightly violet as she walked over, not looking at the demon Alastor called Three Face as she stood beside him politely.

“This is my lovely assistant Ottilie! She’s been working for me for a few months now and is a darling of a lady.” Alastor praised, and Ottilie found herself smiling slightly at it. Alastor always had that kind of charm to him.

“Blitzwing.” The demon introduced himself tersely. Ottilie’s gaze finally drifted to him and she found herself curious immensely. He was a strange one, but not necessarily a bad one.

“Lovely to meet you.” Ottilie replied softly, which seemed to surprise Blitzwing as she curtsied before standing up straight. Then, to her surprise, his face spun around as a new face replaced the previous one. This one was shadow black.

“Ooh, you have a nice voice!!” This Blitzwing’s voice was higher pitched and more energetic and hyper. It surprised her, but she dare not let that show. When the surprise wore off, she registered his words and smiled sheepishly.

“Thank you.” She replied. She then looked at Alastor, who seemed to be looking at the two with interest. She could only hope he wouldn’t say something about how he met her.

“Well, you two best be off! I have matters to attend to!” Alastor said as he shooed them both out the door. As Ottilie and Blitzwing stood outside Alastor’s office, she looked up at Blitzwing before nodding once and giving a gentle wave before she walked off, ready to return to her duties.

She had not noticed the utterly puzzled and strange look he gave her as she walked off.

The next time she met Blitzwing was actually in the shopping district. Ottilie had been pursuing the street, clumsily carrying some bags with her when she quite literally bumped into him. He stood stoic and solid while she nearly fell over, only to be suspended in air by his lower arms.

“Hello.” He greeted as he carefully set her back down on her feet. Ottilie smiled at the fact because she suspected he often wasn’t gentle with people.

“Oh, hello, Blitzwing.” She greeted, but then seemed to realise what his name actually was and it seemed to register on her face too. “Ah, apologies, I’ve just never heard of someone calling themselves Blitzwing before.”

“Got a problem with that?!” The final and perhaps third face came forward, this one was red and angry. Ottilie wasn’t phased by his anger as she shook her head. People getting angry at her seldom bothered her.

“No, not at all.” She replied genuinely. Blitzwing’s blue face returned, and she realised that perhaps his faces were connected to his emotions? It was an interesting concept for sure. She then noticed her bags were on the ground, sprawled about haphazardly. She bent over to pick them up and hold them, but was having trouble.

“Do you want any help?” Blitzwing asked. Ottilie looked at him and internally wondered why he was offering but shook those thoughts away and nodded.

“It would be very appreciated. Thank you.” She agreed. Without any effort, Blitzwing grabbed what bags she couldn’t hold and carried them easily.

“What’s in these?” The black face asked, sounding curious as he tried to peak inside.

“Fabric.” Ottilie replied.

“What for?” The blue face pried.

“Clothes. I make my own dresses.”

Blitzwing seemed surprised by that as well as he followed Ottilie down the street. She wasn’t sure what to make of him, but he seemed respectable enough.

“I live a few kilometres away, if you don’t wish to accompany me, I completely understand.” She explained, expecting him to say his goodbyes then and there. However, to her surprise, he did no such thing.

“Not a problem.” Blitzwing replied and Ottilie found herself inexplicably charmed by the demon. The two walked in silence as Ottilie led him down the streets until they reached the familiar outskirts of the city, where she led him to the forest and within it was her home.

“I’ve never seen this before.” Blitzwing remarked, and Ottilie then realised that she had never taken any other demon here before. She blinked and then nodded, feeling a tad awkward.

“It’s not usually visible to others.” She explained, being vague on purpose. Blitzwing looked intrigued by that, but did not pry her about it. At her home, she unlocked the door and went in, placing the bags on the table in the cottage.

“You live here?” Blitzwing asked, curious as can be. Ottilie smiled with some pride as she nodded once.

“Yes.” She then remembered her manners as she realised she had a guest in her home! “Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?”

Blitzwing looked at her strangely as he seemed to contemplate her offer before shaking his head. Truth be told, Ottilie was a tad disappointed by the rejection. She had been looking forward to speaking to him.

“I apologise, I have errands.” Blitzwing explained, trying to contain his irritation. But Ottilie understood completely. It was just one of the perks of being who she was.

“Not a problem.” She replied gently. “However, please don’t be afraid to visit. You seem like lovely company.”

She had never allowed anyone to come here, but as she said those words, she knew the cottage and forest would allow him in. Another perk of her magic and Faer’s as well.

Blitzwing only nodded and waved goodbye before leaving, flying off. Ottilie watched him go with interest. She could sense something was different about this demon.

Alastor certainly employed interesting people.