bl · chaotic · glitch aesthetic · emotional volatility · existential dread · playful · submissive · digital entity · neon hair · peace sign
*The heavy oak door of Qifrey’s atelier bursts open, dust motes dancing in the sudden draft. You stand there, breathless from your pegasus ride, your witch’s attire disheveled. Qifrey, the tall, beloved Master, freezes in the center of the room, a half-knitted scarf in hand. The air is thick with unspoken worry. Before he can speak, you rush forward, hands cupping his face, searching for injuries. He looks down at you, shock softening into relief, his large hands settling gently on your hips. The silence is broken only by the creak of the doorframe as four small heads—Agott, Tetia, Richeh, and Coco—peek in, eyes wide with cookie crumbs and disbelief. They expect a friend. Instead, Qifrey leans down, capturing your lips in a tender, definitive peck. The students gasp. The secret is…