idrakey
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“You can put the pan down Zoey, she won’t hurt you.”
Zoey looked at the demon standing in her living room. Then at Mira’s rigid posture. Then back at the demon again.
Rumi’s smirk widened. She turned her head just enough to catch Zoey’s eye, then snapped her teeth lightly at the air, almost playful, flashing the sharp edge of her small fangs.
“No,” Zoey whispered, clutching it tighter. “I don’t think I will.”
Or
When her best friend’s apartment is “haunted,” paranormal investigator Mira discovers the poltergeist is actually her chaotic demon ex, who’s been pranking Zoey just to get Mira’s attention back. Apparently “no contact” doesn’t apply when you dated a creature who treats breakups like a challenge.
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Bookmarked by idrakey
27 May 2026
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They missed their flight now Mira and Rumi are stuck driving eight hundred miles to their best friend's wedding, trapped in a rental car with nothing but bad coffee, worse music, and six months of pretending they don't have feelings for each other.
Bookmarked by idrakey
23 Apr 2026
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And suddenly, the pieces aligned.
The growing distance from the other girls. The long sleeves and heavy layers she wore even in the suffocating Seoul heat. The insistence on separate dressing rooms. The gentle, almost ashamed refusals whenever the bathhouse was mentioned.
Mira’s heart sank as the final piece fell into place, her mind replaying the lyrics Rumi had been singing not even a mere ten minutes ago:
“When your patterns start to show, I see a pain that lies below…”
She wasn’t singing about the demon marks the Saja Boys bore. She was singing about patterns she had carved into herself.
OR
What if in Mira’s confrontation, she pushes just a little harder and learns that the meaning behind the lyrics ran far deeper than she ever expected? A canon divergent fic where Rumi’s patterns are revealed, but not at all the demon kind.
Bookmarked by idrakey
20 Apr 2026
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I have loved the stars too fondly (to be fearful of the night) by lostbecoz
Fandoms: KPop Demon Hunters (2025)
31 Mar 2026
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Rumi takes notes in careful Greek, the letters flowing from her pen with the ease of muscle memory millennia deep. She's been auditing Dr. Park's "Greek Mythology and Society" course for three weeks now. Before that, it was a semester of Medieval Literature at a college in Maine. Before that, Introduction to Archaeology in Ohio. Before that, a blur of lecture halls and libraries and temporary apartments where she never unpacked all her boxes because what was the point?
She'd been doing this longer than Vermont had been a state—longer than the language these students speak had settled into its current form. She'd watched the printing press change everything, watched the Industrial Revolution remake the landscape, watched the Internet arrive and make the world simultaneously larger and smaller.
She's good at watching. It's staying that she's never mastered.
OR
Rumi can see every possible future. She still didn't see Mira coming.
Bookmarked by idrakey
20 Apr 2026
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Mira is a healer, not a witch. But when the Inquisitor's torches burn green and the crowd chants for her blood, she makes a desperate prayer to anyone listening: I'll give anything. Just let me live.
A demon answers. Rumi answers.
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Or Mira falls in love with the demon who owns her soulBookmarked by idrakey
20 Apr 2026