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gdinthehouseee · 2 months ago

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Stars Rewritten: KWON JI-YONG x READER

summary: after he left you, you never heard from ji-yong again. or, that was the case, until you finally saw him again at a fashion show---where the walls you had spent so long building up around your heart finally crumbled down.

word count: 5062

tags: angst to fluff; exes to lovers, arguments, dramatic asf, you have a slight panic attack so please click off if you feel it's too much, hurt/comfort

ao3 link -- smau bonus

The air inside the Chanel afterparty was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and fine champagne, a blur of murmured conversations and polite laughter. Paris had a way of making everything feel ethereal—timeless—but the moment you locked eyes with Kwon Ji-yong, time felt like it had stopped altogether.

He stood near the bar, one hand lazily wrapped around a crystal glass, the other tucked effortlessly into his pocket. Even in a room full of icons draped in couture, he stood out. Always had. And yet, it wasn’t the sharp lines of his suit or the effortless way he carried himself that held your attention. It was his eyes. Dark, searching, and unreadable. They traced over you like a memory long buried, one he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to unearth.

Your chest tightened. You should’ve known he’d be here. Fashion and Ji-yong went hand in hand—just like you and him once did. Still, nothing could’ve prepared you for the way seeing him again would make your pulse stutter, for the way his presence still felt like a song you hadn’t heard in years but somehow still knew the lyrics to.

He didn’t look away. Neither did you. So, you did the only thing you could—you closed the distance.

Ji-yong watched as you approached, his lips curving slightly—not quite a smile, not quite a smirk. "Didn’t think I’d see you here," he murmured, voice smooth as ever.

"Paris is big enough for the both of us," you replied, tone casual, though your heartbeat told a different story.

"Is it?" He tilted his head slightly, studying you. "Funny. I feel like I see you everywhere."

"Sounds like a personal problem."

You refused to be the first to break. A quiet pause. He probably didn’t mean it literally, but the weight of his words settled between you. Did he mean in headlines? In music? In memories?

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he took a sip of his drink. "Still quick with the comebacks, I see."

You shrugged. "Some things never change."

His expression flickered—just for a second. Barely noticeable, but you caught it. A shadow of something deeper, something raw. "Some things do," he said quietly.

That—that was the first real crack in his composure.

Your chest tightened, but you forced yourself to keep your expression unreadable. "Well," you exhaled, glancing around, "it’s good to see you’re still doing well."

"Are you?" His voice was softer now, but there was an edge to it—like he wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer.

"Of course," you answered, maybe too quickly. Too smoothly. Because what else were you supposed to say? That seeing him still made your heart ache? That Paris, no matter how romantic, still felt empty without him?

Ji-yong hummed, swirling the liquid in his glass. "Good." But he didn’t sound convinced.

You should’ve walked away. Should’ve let the moment pass, let him become just another face in the crowd, another ghost of your past that didn’t deserve to be resurrected. That would’ve been the smart thing to do—the safe thing. Just two people who used to know each other, exchanging polite words in a city meant for strangers and lovers alike. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Ji-yong had never been just someone you used to know. He had been your beginning and your ending, the song that played in the quiet corners of your mind long after the music had stopped. And now, standing in front of him again, feeling the weight of his gaze, hearing the softness in his voice that made old wounds ache—you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to pretend he was just another person in the room.

"Did you ever miss me?"

His voice—so much quieter, so much heavier—cut through the space between you.

"Did you?" You shot back immediately.

Ji-yong didn’t answer right away. He just stared, gaze unreadable, jaw tightening slightly like he was debating whether or not to tell the truth. Finally, he exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You always did know how to turn things around on me."

You smirked, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Guess some things really don’t change after all."

A flicker of something crossed his face—something almost nostalgic. Almost sad.

Before either of you could say anything else, someone called his name. His momentary distraction gave you the chance to take a step back, breathe, and remind yourself that you weren’t that person anymore—the one who used to fall so easily into his orbit.

His gaze flickered back to yours, as if considering whether to pull you back in or let you go. And then, with one last lingering look, he gave you a slow, almost reluctant nod.

"Enjoy your night," he murmured before turning away.

Ji-yong didn’t look back as he disappeared into the crowd, but he felt you lingering—like a song stuck in his head, like the one thing he thought he’d buried but never really could. His grip on his drink tightened, his pulse a little too quick, his thoughts a little too loud. He had spent so long convincing himself that time had dulled the edges of what you once were, that he had moved past the ache of losing you. But seeing you tonight? Hearing your voice, sharp as ever, watching the way your lips curled into that familiar smirk—it unraveled something in him. You still got under his skin. And maybe the worst part? Some small, stupid, hopeless part of him wanted to believe that he still got under yours, too.

The night air was crisp, carrying the distant hum of Paris beneath it—the soft wail of a saxophone from a street musician, the muffled laughter of strangers, the city breathing all around you. The elegant wrap draped over your shoulders did little against the chill, but you weren’t sure if it was the cold or the lingering weight of Ji-yong’s presence that sent a shiver through you. The party inside carried on without you—glasses clinking, laughter rising and falling, conversations blending into a meaningless hum. But out here, on the secluded balcony overlooking the city skyline, everything was still.

The cigarette between your fingers burned slowly, thin wisps of smoke curling into the night air. You took a slow drag, letting the warmth settle in your lungs, but it didn’t help. Nothing did. You exhaled, watching the smoke dissolve into the sky, your thoughts spiraling. You shouldn’t have come tonight. You knew there was a chance he’d be here. A part of you had even tried to prepare for it—but how do you prepare for seeing someone who once made you feel like your entire world revolved around them?

"You never used to smoke."

Ji-yong.

Your fingers twitched around the cigarette. You turned your head slightly, just enough to see him standing there, hands in his pockets, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“Not everything stays the same, y’know.” You mutter before taking another slow drag.

His gaze flickered, his jaw tightening for a fraction of a second before he stepped forward, resting his forearms against the railing beside you. Close, but not close enough. He let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head. "Didn’t think I’d ever see the day."

You arched a brow, finally looking at him fully. "What, me smoking?"

He tilted his head, studying you the way he always used to—like he was peeling back layers, searching for something just beneath the surface. "You hated it. You used to steal my cigarettes just to throw them away."

You exhaled a humorless chuckle. "Maybe I just wanted to piss you off."

"Is that what this is, then? Still trying to piss me off?"

"Not everything is about you, Ji-yong."

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he reached over—slow, deliberate—and plucked the cigarette from your hand. You let him. He studied it for a second, rolling it between his fingers like he was trying to understand something unspoken. Then, just as slowly, he lifted it to his lips, taking a drag. Your stomach twisted. The sight was familiar and foreign all at once.

He exhaled, watching the smoke curl into the night, before finally speaking—softer this time.

"You used to say my name differently," he said quietly, tapping the ash off his cigarette.

Your breath hitched. "Don’t do that."

"Do what?"

"Talk like—like we’re still the same people we were back then."

A humorless chuckle escaped him, low and bitter. "We’re not. That’s the problem, isn’t it?"

You didn’t answer. Because he wasn’t wrong.

He took another slow drag, his shoulders rising and falling with the inhale before he turned to fully face you. "You never answered me earlier," he murmured.

"About what?"

"If you ever missed me."

Your stomach twisted. He said it so simply, like it wasn’t the very question that had kept you up on too many nights, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he had ever done the same.

You wanted to lie. You wanted to tell him no. That you had moved on, that the years apart had erased him, that the sight of him standing in front of you now didn’t make old scars ache.

But your silence said more than words ever could.

Ji-yong’s lips pressed together as he studied your expression, as if searching for something—an answer, a confession, proof that he wasn’t the only one who had spent all this time wondering what if.

And then, barely above a whisper, he spoke.

"I missed you."

It shouldn’t have mattered—it shouldn’t have felt like a punch to the chest, like something raw and aching unraveling inside of you. But it did. You tore your gaze away, focusing on the city lights in the distance, anywhere but him.

"Don’t do that, Ji-yong." You repeated.

His brow furrowed. "Do what?"

"Say things like that," you muttered, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. "Like it changes anything."

"You think it doesn’t?"

It was your turn to huff out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "It’s been years."

"And?" His voice had an edge now, something frustrated, something almost desperate.

"And we ruined each other," you shot back, finally meeting his gaze again.

Ji-yong flinched, just barely—but you caught it.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was deafening, stretched tight between you like a thread on the verge of snapping. The air felt heavier out here, thick with the past, with every unspoken word, every unsent message, every lingering memory that neither of you had truly let go of. It was in the way Ji-yong’s gaze flickered, searching your face for something—a sign that you still felt it too, that he wasn’t alone in this quiet ache. It was in the way your fingers curled against the railing, gripping it as if it could steady you against the pull of him. So much had been left unsaid between you, but standing here, so close yet so impossibly far, you realized something terrifying. Maybe the past had never really let go of either of you.

"You really believe that?" he asked quietly.

Your fingers curled into your palms. "I have to."

Ji-yong inhaled slowly, like he was trying to keep himself together. Then, before you could react, he took a step closer. Too close. Close enough that you could smell his cologne, something familiar, something that shouldn’t still feel like home. Close enough that the warmth of his body seeped into yours, despite the cold air.

"Then tell me to walk away.”

Your pulse jumped. "What?"

"If you really believe that—if you really think we ruined each other—" he tilted his head, voice low, challenging, "then tell me to walk away."

You opened your mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.

He searched your face, something vulnerable breaking through his mask. "See?" His voice softened, barely more than a breath. "You can’t."

"That doesn’t mean—"

"It means everything," he interrupted, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t dare. "We don’t end like this."

Your throat felt tight, emotions clawing their way up. "Ji-yong—"

He leaned in just a fraction more, voice barely above a whisper.

"Say it," he murmured. "Say you don’t miss me, and I’ll leave. Right now."

Your heart pounded. Because he was calling your bluff. Because you couldn’t say it. Because, no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much had broken between you—he was still the one person who could undo you completely.

And he knew it.

"You think this is fair?" You shot back, voice sharper than you intended. “Showing up after all this time like it means something. Like you didn’t—" You stopped yourself just in time, but it was too late. He caught it.

His jaw clenched. "Like I didn’t what?"

You swallowed, pulse hammering against your ribs. Walk away? Give up? Break me? The words were right there, but you couldn’t say them, because then he’d know. Then he’d see just how much of you was still tangled up in him.

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "I’m not playing games, if that’s what you think."

"That’s funny, coming from you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means this is what you do," you snapped. "You disappear. You come back when it’s convenient. You say just enough to make me wonder, just enough to make me—" You cut yourself off, breath shaking.

Ji-yong took a step closer. "Make you what?"

You clenched your jaw. "I don’t owe you an answer."

His expression flickered, something breaking through his mask for just a second before his voice dropped lower, rougher. "And who do you think lost?"

You huffed a bitter laugh, voice rising. "I don’t know, Ji-yong! You tell me! Because from where I’m standing, it sure as hell wasn’t you."

His eyes flashed. "You think I walked away easily?" His voice was sharp, almost disbelieving. "You think I just—what? Moved on? Forgot about you?" He let out a humorless laugh. "You have no fucking idea."

"Then why did you?"

"Why did I what?"

"Leave!"

Your voice cracked, but you didn’t care. The word rang out between you, cutting through the tension like a blade. Ji-yong’s breath hitched, his entire body going still.

"You think I wanted to?" He finally said, voice low, hoarse.

You scoffed. "I don’t know what you wanted!" You were almost yelling now, hands shaking. "Because if you wanted me, you should have fucking stayed!"

"You think I didn’t try?"

"You didn’t try hard enough!"

The words came out louder than you intended, your chest heaving with the weight of them. And for the first time tonight, Ji-yong flinched. The silence that followed was suffocating. His fingers twitched at his sides, like he wanted to reach for you, like he had to physically stop himself. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter but no less intense. "I still love you."

Your breath caught.

Ji-yong swallowed hard, his gaze burning into yours. "Not past tense. Not something I got over. I still fucking love you, and I think you know that."

Your fingers curled into fists, nails digging into your palms. "I—"

He took another step forward, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him, close enough that your body betrayed you, leaning ever so slightly in his direction. "Tell me to stop," he murmured. "Tell me to let you go, and I will."

Your chest rose and fell rapidly. You should say it. You should end this now before you drowned in him all over again. But the words wouldn’t come, and he saw it. His lips parted slightly, his hands twitching at his sides, like he was holding himself back from touching you. And then—

"I can’t do this," you whispered, stepping back.

"Why?"

"Because," you breathed, voice breaking now. "Because if I let myself believe you, if I let myself want this again—" You exhaled shakily, blinking up at him, heart on the verge of breaking all over again. "I don’t think I’d survive losing you twice."

Ji-yong’s expression crumbled. His mouth opened, but for the first time tonight, he had nothing to say. And neither did you. The silence between you wasn’t thick with anger anymore: it was replaced with heartbreak.

"That’s all you’re going to say?"

"What else do you want from me!?"

"I want you to tell me the truth," he shot back. "I want you to stop acting like you don’t feel this."

"Feel what?" Your voice was sharp, a desperate edge creeping into your tone. "Whatever this was, it ended. You made sure of that."

His jaw tensed. "You think I had a choice?"

"You always had a choice!" You snapped, stepping forward, your anger swallowing the hurt. "You could have fought for me, for us. But you didn’t. You left, and you—" Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to keep going, keep pressing where it hurt. "You let me think I wasn’t enough for you."

Ji-yong's eyes flashed with something unreadable, something raw. "That’s not fair."

You let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, and what part of this is fair?"

He clenched his fists, exhaling sharply. "You think I wanted to leave? You think I just walked away without looking back?" His voice was rising now, matching yours, the heat between you bordering on explosive. "You have no idea how much I wanted to stay. How many nights I lay awake wishing things were different. Wishing I could be selfish enough to keep you—"

"Then why wasn’t I worth it?"

The words came out before you could stop them, loud and broken, filling the space between you like a gunshot.

Ji-yong inhaled sharply yet again, as if the weight of your words had knocked the air from his lungs. His mouth opened, then closed, his expression crumbling for a split second before he masked it again.

"Don’t," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "Don’t say that."

You let out a shaky breath, your throat burning. "Tell me I’m wrong, then. Tell me that when you left, it wasn’t because you decided I wasn’t worth the effort."

He stepped even closer, his voice low and urgent. "I never stopped loving you."

"Then why did you break my heart?"

The question shattered between you, both of you breathing hard, chests rising and falling as the weight of everything you’d buried finally cracked open.

"I don’t know," he admitted, his voice almost desperate. "I don’t fucking know. All I know is that being without you felt like hell."

Your breath stuttered, the world tilting beneath your feet, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a tidal wave. Too much. Too much. Too much. It clawed at your chest, curling tight around your ribs, making it impossible to breathe, impossible to think. This was dangerous. He was dangerous. The way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the room that mattered. The way his voice softened when he said your name, like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers all over again. The way your body still knew him, still ached for him, even after all this time.

And it terrified you.

Because if you stayed, if you let him keep talking, keep looking at you like that, keep picking apart the walls you spent so long building—you knew you’d crumble. You’d let him in again. You’d let yourself hope. And hope was the most dangerous thing of all.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms, grounding yourself in the sharp sting of it. You had to get out of here. Now. Before your heart could trick you into believing this could end any differently than it did before. Before you drowned in him all over again.

You took a shaky step back. Ji-yong’s eyes tracked the movement instantly, his entire body tensing like he knew exactly what you were about to do.

"Don’t," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but it might as well have been a plea.

Your throat burned. Don’t what? Run? Leave? Break his heart the way he broke yours?

"I can’t do this," you breathed, shaking your head as you took another step back. Then another.

Ji-yong moved instinctively, reaching for you, his fingers just barely brushing your wrist before you yanked away.

"Wait—"

But you were already turning, pushing past him, your breath coming in uneven gasps as you shoved open the balcony door and disappeared into the dimly lit hallway. You didn’t stop. Didn’t let yourself look back, didn’t let yourself hear the way his breath hitched when you slipped through his fingers.

You wove through the crowd in the main room, your pulse pounding in your ears, drowning out the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. The air inside was suffocating, thick with perfume and cigarette smoke and everything you needed to escape. You barely registered the curious glances thrown your way as you reached the entrance, shoving the door open and stepping into the cool night air. Only then did you finally exhale, your breath shaky as it left your lips in a sharp rush.

But it wasn’t enough.

The city lights blurred as you stumbled forward, needing distance, needing space, needing to outrun the ghosts of his words—I never stopped loving you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to breathe, to push him out of your head, out of your heart, out of your bones.

But even as you walked away, every step putting more distance between you and the only man you’d ever truly loved—you knew it wasn’t over.

Not yet.

You pushed yourself harder, each step taking you farther away from the noise of the venue, from him. The streets blurred around you as you walked, each step fueled by the need to get away, the need to breathe air that wasn’t saturated with him. You didn’t want to be there anymore.

Eventually, you found a quiet alley, tucked away between two tall buildings, far enough from the crowd to feel safe, but not too far that you’d lose yourself completely. You sank down to the cold concrete, pulling your knees to your chest, desperately trying to calm the erratic beating of your heart. You tried to force your breathing into something steady, something normal. You were fine. You had to be fine.

You were fine.

But then the panic started to creep in. That tightening feeling in your chest, the same feeling that had gripped you all those months ago. The fear, the helplessness, the suffocating weight of the past, of the break-up, of everything you hadn’t been able to say or let go of. The walls you’d built around yourself trembled. You weren’t fine.

The panic slammed into you full-force, and for a second, it felt like you were falling apart all over again.

This was dangerous.

Just like before. Just like the night he left.

You gasped for air, but it wasn’t enough. Your chest constricted, your vision blurred, and you swore you could hear your pulse pounding in your ears. You weren’t going to make it. You weren’t going to survive this. You needed to breathe, you needed to stop thinking about how close you were to that awful, broken place you’d sworn you’d never return to.

And then, you heard it—footsteps.

No.

You jerked your head up, eyes wide with panic, just in time to see him standing there—Ji-yong, standing in the dim light of the alley, his gaze locked onto you like he’d been tracking your every movement.

You tried to push yourself up, to move, to run. But your legs were weak, too weak, your knees buckling as your breath came in jagged gasps. You couldn’t escape this, couldn’t escape him.

“Stop.”

His voice was firm, but not harsh. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your wrist before grabbing your arm. Not painfully, but just enough to hold you still, enough to make you realize you couldn’t keep going.

You froze. The panic still gripped you, tightening your chest with every labored breath, but when his touch grounded you, something about the way he held you still made it worse. You hadn’t expected him to follow you. And now, here he was, like he’d found you in your most vulnerable moment.

He didn’t say anything else at first, just stood there, his grip on your arm gentle but firm, as if he was waiting for you to speak, to explain why you were falling apart, why you couldn’t keep it together. And then he spoke again, softer this time, with that quiet urgency that made your insides twist.

“You don’t have to pretend, you know.”

The words hit you like a wave.

You didn’t have to pretend. And that was all it took.

The tears you’d been holding back came crashing forward, hot and fast, spilling down your cheeks as your body started to shake. You tried to stand, tried to push through it, but the moment your legs gave out, Ji-yong’s arm shot around you, pulling you into his chest, catching you before you could hit the ground.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, his voice full of surprise, full of something else you couldn’t quite name. His arms tightened around you as you gasped for air, your whole body shaking from the intensity of it. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

You shook your head against his chest, unable to stop the tears, unable to stop the sobs that tore their way out of you. You hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to be here, hadn’t expected to break down in his arms again. But somehow, despite everything, despite how much you tried to push him away, you felt something in you soften, a part of you finally willing to let go.

He didn’t say anything more. He just held you, letting you cry against him, his grip never tightening, never too forceful, just enough to remind you that he was there.

Ji-yong's chest tightened as he held you close, his heart breaking into pieces with each sob that wracked your body. The way you trembled in his arms, the rawness of your pain—it was all too much. His mind replayed every moment, every misstep, every word he’d said or hadn’t said, and it all came crashing down on him. He had been the one to walk away. He had been the one to push you out of his life, to let pride and fear dictate his actions. And now, seeing you broken in his arms, it felt like he had destroyed something precious. The guilt gnawed at him, sharp and unforgiving. He was the reason you were hurting, the reason you’d built walls around your heart. His choices, his mistakes—he had caused this. The weight of it threatened to crush him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed you, that he had broken something that could never be fixed.

"I—" You choked on the air, the pain in your chest too much. Your heart ached, and you thought you might break again. But you couldn’t keep pretending. You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore. "I still love you, Ji-yong… I—I never stopped. But I’m so… so scared."

He didn’t say anything, didn’t even try to pull away or give you a soft smile to ease your discomfort. Instead, his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as though he wanted to absorb your pain, to make it his own.

“I can’t open up and have you leave all over again.”

His voice cracked as he whispered, “I’m so sorry… for everything. I—God, I was stupid. I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you, how much I was pushing you away. I thought I could handle it, thought I could fix everything, but I only made it worse.” He swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. “I’m sorry for leaving you when you needed me most, sorry for all the things I didn’t say, all the things I didn’t do. I’m sorry for every mistake, every time I made you feel less than—less than everything you deserve.”

His hands, which had once been so sure, trembled as they cupped your face, lifting your gaze to meet his. He could barely hold himself together, his own tears falling freely now. “Please… I’m begging you. Give me another chance. I—I swear I won’t mess it up this time. I can’t lose you again. I love you. I never stopped. Please, just—please don’t give up on us.”

The raw desperation in his voice, the way he looked at you as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world, made your heart ache all over again. He wasn’t just apologizing; he was pleading, his voice breaking with the weight of everything he had failed to say before. And even though every part of you screamed in hesitation, you couldn’t help but feel the tiny spark of hope that maybe—just maybe—this could be the moment everything shifted.

“I’ll never give up on us,” he continued, his voice steady now, full of resolve. “I swear.”

A shaky laugh escaped you, despite the tears that still clung to your lashes. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

And with that, Ji-yong’s lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, as if testing the waters, before deepening into a kiss that spoke of all the things you’d both been too afraid to say. It was gentle, full of longing and the sweet promise of healing. The kiss was the beginning of something new, a new chapter where the mistakes of the past could be forgiven and the love between you could bloom once more.

When he pulled away, his thumb gently stroked your cheek, and he smiled—a smile that was as soft and loving as the words he had just spoken. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I know,” you whispered back. “I love you, too.”

taglist: @thanosscrossmain @maskedcrawford @mirahyun @riddlerloveb0t @onyxmango @sherrayyyyy @seunghyunwifey @petersasteria @allthoughtsmindfull

#kwon jiyong #kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon #gdragon x reader #bigbang #bigbang x reader #kpop #kpop x reader #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #exes to lovers #hurt/comfort #angst to fluff

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call-me-strega · 8 months ago

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Dc x Dp Prompt #24: The Midwest Prince(ss)

Danny is a Singer/Siren/Banshee au where he’s basically a Chappel Roan-type figure.( Also, I'm Dead on Main trash so Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers, Celebrity x Civilian romance for two of my favorite boys)

Danny’s Ghostly Wail develops into vocal manipulation bc he’s a siren or banshee. Ember teaches him to sing and control the power. He finds music is a good outlet for his emotions and decides to pursue music as Danny. It takes him a few years but he develops a style and brand that he bases off the Realms. However, he doesn’t anyone to connect him to Phantom so he uses parts of his ancestors’ names to become “Walker Gale”(shout out to my beautiful mutual @mirigold-mayflowers for helping me pick that name), ordinary small-town midwestern boy turned Music Icon. He hires Val as his personal bodyguard, Sam as his manager, and Tucker as his head stage tech.

He dresses in really campy clothes the low-key mimic his ghost form as well as other ghosts he’s met. The outfits change to match the vibe of the song. So a rock ballad with an outfit inspired by Ember, Show Tunes-Murder Mystery-type-beat with a costume for Amorpho, EDM-techno-hyperpop themed song styled after Technus or Skulker, etc. He just has a lot of fun experimenting with his appearance and he’s an icon for it. He even makes friends with Star and Paulina through this and they give him feedback and help with new looks. The eventually join the team as his PR and Styling team.

Since he’s a banshee/siren all his songs have this underlying despair/sadness even if they have a fun and bubbly beat. He also references his feelings about being/hiding as Phantom and being partially dead and shit but vaguely so no one actually knows or assumes it’s a metaphor. Many of the themes are actually things lgbtq people identify with, specifically trans and bi fans. He also references battles he’s fought and ppl assumes he’s talking about mental illness or abuse which attracts another category of fans altogether. Again inspired by Chappel Roan his first album his called "The Ascent and Downfall of a Midwest Prince" gaining him the nickname the "Midwest Prince".

He’s weird and unfiltered and full of emotion and he gains a few fans in the hero community too. Raven and Zatanna start a fan club for him, well aware he’s some type of banshee/siren but knowing that the extent of his powers are being used to deliver beautiful performances. The are staunch supporters of him and his music and spread it to their friends. The current fan club is Co-Presidents Zatanna + Raven, VP Greta(Secret, a.k.a: a ghost hero), Starfire, Bart, Cassie, Tim, Kon + Jon, Steph, Cass, and Billy.

His identifying features are a signature make-up look and white underdye (when the color is on the underside of the hair). He’s grown his hair longer so it’s not super visible when he has it down and not styled. He also looks different without make-up so he can totally go unrecognized in public and live life semi-normal (as normal as a half-ghost vigilante powerhouse superstar can be). He actually planned it to be that way so that he could still go to college and stuff even though he’s doing it mostly online. All this to say that Danny has low-key got a Hannah Montana thing going on. Also, let's mix it up a bit and say he's based in Star City.

One day Danny goes to a second-hand book store because he's looking for a cheap textbook when he bumps into an absolute hunk of a man who doesn't seem to recognize him. Jason had been in Star City to visit Roy and Lian. He stopped at a second-hand bookstore to see if he look for some older editions of books (one time he found a second edition copy of Persuasion so he likes to peruse) and ran into a super pretty boy who made his chest feel funny and doesn't realize he's a Wayne. They got to talking about started really connecting. They decided to exchange numbers and kept in touch, meeting up every now and then when they had the chance. Danny gave him his private social media accounts so Jason never learned much more beyond that Danny worked in the music industry but not his exact role in it.

Eventually Danny moves to Gotham, either bc he switched labels or to be closer to Jazz whose doing her doctorate thesis on reforms that need to be made in Arkham. He and Jason begin meeting up in person more frequently and start catching feelings. Danny really wants to ask him out but feels sleazy doing it without telling Jason about his past and superstar alter ego. However, he also doesn't want to lose the mostly normal friendship they have. On the flipside Jason wants to date Danny but doesn't want to drag him into the life of a vigilante or the life of a Wayne. Both of them Pine and Agonize over this. In the end Danny decides to bite the bullet and tell Jason who he is, every part of who he is. He invites Jason over for a movie night and tells him he's got something important to tell Jason.

That same day Starfire decides to introduce Walker Gale's work to the other Outlaws and Jason really resonates with his work. He identifies with the lyrics on a literal and physical level and recognizes the underlying emotions that usually only other ghosts or liminals can. Starfire overjoyed that her friend likes his music decides to show Jason some of his music videos and photos. Jason, not being blind or an idiot, recognizes not only the props and costumes but his crushes face under that (very well done) make-up.

Jason is stunned and conflicted: it’s not like Danny lied to him about who he was, but he was entirely truthful either. Did he assume Jason knew? Or did he just not trust Jason? Why did he even bother with Jason, a seemingly regular guy, if he had such a claim to fame? And Jason keeps listening to his music and it’s speaks to him the same way hanging out with Danny does, making him feel seen and connected. It makes him all the more sure that someone incredible as Danny doesn’t need someone like Jason. He heads to Danny’s place that night very subdued.

He gets to Danny’s place and the smile that greets him twists him up inside. He puts on a mask and tries to act normal but Danny can tell somethings up but persists as he has made up his mind to be clear with Jason. He sits him down and tells him there is something important he wants to tell Jason. He starts by letting Jason know that he cares about him very much and appreciates the normality and closeness of their friendship. He confesses that he doesn't normally get that bc well, he's the superstar "Walker Gale". Danny goes onto say that the reason he didn't say anything earlier was because he treasures the simplicity of what he had with Jason and the reason he's telling him now is because he couldn't continue a relationship that he wants more from without being completely honest.

Jason's heart thunders in his chest and he stares at Danny with a slightly constipated look. Danny asks Jason what's wrong and on an impulse Jason word vomits his feelings. That he actually found out through a friend earlier today, that he really connected to his music the same way he did with Danny, that he's never felt seen the way Danny sees through him, that he's never felt the same way as deeply before, that he's completely and utterly in love with Danny but was scared to say anything and get him involved with his crazy life and the Waynes. And Danny sits and listens shellshocked.

And the only thing Danny can think to do is kiss this incredible boy senseless and tell him that if he likes him back then they can figure it out.

#siren/banshee au #singer danny fenton #famous danny fenton #danny is hannah montana #his superstar-sona is called Walker Gale #heavily inspired by Chappel Roan #jason todd #danny fenton #dc x dp #dead on main #strangers to friends to lovers #boys in love #After they figure their shit out Jason hangs out back stage at Danny's concerts #He introduces him to his family and Tim recognizes him and screams “Walker Gale” slamming his hands on the table #he's freaking out bc a famous popstar just walked into his dining room holding hands with his brother #half Jason's siblings spend diner fangirling over his boyfriend #he gets the status of biggest/number 1 fan though #the hero community fan club is frothing at the mouth over their relationship #Zatanna and Raven refuse to give up co-president status so Jason settles for co-vp with Greta #Danny's friends also scream when they meet Jason bc the recognize him as a Wayne #Their relationship is like if Kylie Jenner was dating Chappel Roan?? Basically???#do you get the vision???#strega's dc x dp prompt

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niteromantic · 9 months ago

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❤️✨HAPPY 62ND BIRTHDAY ISSAY✨❤️

🖤HAPPY HEAVENLY BIRTHDAY ISSAY🖤

A pioneer of the j-rock industry, one of the fathers of visual kei and also one of the best artists of his generation. It's the first year you celebrate this special day up there. I hope you are happy and having a great time wherever you are.

Thank you for everything Issay. You are incredibly missed💙💫

6/7/1962

#issay #der zibet #jrock #jrock icons #jrockers #visual kei #vkei #psycho lizard #ghost city cowboy

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batbabydamian · 11 months ago

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The Boy Wonder #1 by Juni Ba rambling about why every time i open this book, i stare in wonder...HAHA and ofc!! how cute Damian is!!

Juni Ba’s style is so absurdly effective in telling a fairy tale for the ages. It’s a stunning blend of simplicity and complexity I'M GRIPPING THE PAGES AGAINST MY EYES…

Before getting into the interiors, THE COVER!! It associates autumn leaves to Damian's Robin title through the iconic cape shape/color; and on top of that, for a Robin going through a big transition in his life...a season of change one might say...Juni Ba your brain...

Damian and the leaves being the only colored parts of this cover is nice in focusing on those elements, but i also like to think by not coloring the background it prepares you to expect impressive inkwork in this book.

On that note, the interiors!! Starting off with Ba's backgrounds of Gotham as it establishes the strange new world that our young hero has been thrust into:

We get a neat tracking shot following a champagne glass that gives us a glimpse of Gotham from the upper echelons to the downtrodden in "Underwell"

This opening sequence quickly lays out the environment Damian will be traveling through in this series! It also sets the tone for some silliness with the cute zoom on the champagne glass before it BOKs the robber lol. Along with Ba's inks, O'Halloran's colors makes every part of Gotham pop - especially love the golds of the higher society shifting into the blues of the underbelly!!

Besides Damian’s personal conflict, Gotham feels like its own entity that he has to contend with. The dialogue speaks for itself, but within the art as well!!

"This city of ours swallows and crushes everything it can" -> a gargoyle's beak over Damian, crowds of people, and walls of advertising

"You've seen it too...the way it coils around one's mind from below." -> bridges and a passing train on a rail viaduct towering over a civilian

"A dark voice calling as if to say..." -> literally, "FEED ME"

LOVELY SHOT OF MOVEMENT... and i love how Damian's venture into Gotham opens with him passing a tree - its branches and leaves are the most organic element on the page before getting into the gritty details of the city! Some yammering because the inks are. so cool: the delicate lines of the leaves in the tree to the thicker/bigger lined ones closer to the camera on the right; the background inks allowing space around Damian's form + the fine line of his grapple!! More O'Halloran praise - PRETTY, and love his coloring over Ba's bg lines, particularly here, keeping the leaves darker on the right.

It's not only a pretty page it's just a really clean layout!! Ba exhibits this throughout the book but i really enjoy it here - from Damian nyooming, we head into these last 3 panels. his cute lil "Robin" shape easily draws the eye to the tops of the panels as we take in Gotham's liveliness alongside the lettering/narration

and the "Robin" shape?? SO CUTE. it's instantly familiar to us as Robin!! bold outline and filled with yellow...it's a Robin in movement!!...AN AUTUMN LEAF IN THE WIND... yeah, still not over that 😭

Damian's inciting incident is introduced in the former panel with a gorgeous backdrop of Gotham in the distance (plus itty bitty Trinity cameo haha). The shot parallels!! beautifully!! in the final page!! Damian is now in the depths of Gotham, his objective out of reach. The colors are of note too, where the familiar yellows of Gotham are suddenly a startling green after the demon makes its appearance. The Gotham land looks even more unfamiliar, which prompts Damian to seek help.

Some speculation, but the green could also be associated with the more mythical side of demons and such (like the ghost?? of the thief), but it could even imply there's a connection to the Al Ghuls themselves as it's the only other time green is so prominently used.

Now that the land of Gotham is established, popping in other fav bgs!

More lovely mix of Ba's inks and O'Halloran's colors!! especially allowing some of the brush/marker strokes to show faintly as part of the twinkling sky...STUNNING!! 😭 i love this whole page but this panel gets me weepy, SMALL DAMIAN IN THE VAST UNIVERSE COMBINED WITH THIS LINE "He knew he could be great. How unfair of the world to make him feel so small." KICKS MY ASS... i need to lie down

YAPPING AT MORE WONDERFUL INKING: the suggestion of windows offscreen from the frames casting these thick lines over the walls and stairwell; the minute shadow details over the railing; the hatching on the suits in the portrait; the framed portrait being its own panel!! cute hooded Damian in the gutter space looking in on the portrait/panel!! CUTE HOODED DAMIANS!!

SPEAKING OF PANELS, along with general effectiveness and efficiency, there's more whimsy in others!! like this kickass page of Nightwing whipping his escrima from first panel -> afterimage lines going POWPOWPOW hitting demons from a distance to ones closer to the camera -> and back into his hand!! IT'S SO GOOD AND SO FUN!!

Ba's action employs more diagonal panels, and characters are less restrained within boxes - there's more energy and freedom across the page!

not necessarily focusing on the action for this one, but THE WHIMSY!! the border itself is goop!! Also gotta point out that looming hammer shape!!

Nightwing's critical hit spans the entire page!! from silhouettes of a flip -> flashy stomping pose/Clayface -> to a distant shot of Dick landing

and a smooth finisher page!! love the motion lines on Dick's arms and waist + his head and arc effects popping outside of the borders; then the smaller panels for quick activity, and the final WOOB WOOB WOOB LOL i can hear this sound effect just as much as i can see it

Along with O'Halloran on colors, Aditya Bidikar on lettering works seamlessly with Ba's vision!! The text boxes for the fairy tale narration are like strips of yellowing pages from an old storybook!! Had to look up the term for this lol, but also reminiscent of those storybooks, there's even a use of "drop caps" - the big fancy capital letter!

Smaller things of note, but the bit of "Weakness" text from Ra's has a kind of. grandiose feel to it. Then the cute B< Damian behind the window!! Love how the bubble and text are faded behind the glass too! The end of the bubble tail is a nice touch as it matches well with Ba's bg inking :0

Otherwise, it seems Ba has done a majority of the lettering - dropping a couple of my favs below!!

also just this whole page: the very loud AAAH! text draws both Damian's and the reader's attention to the panel below!! it's a cool transition to a new shot where you can see Damian's silhouette on the building! The final panel is cartoony violence off-page through the bold POW BOOM SLAM haha + DAMIAN'S LIL FIST!!🥺 and the guy's tooth RIP

Pure speculation - Juni Ba's concept art included Carrie Kelley, so i'm wondering if the hostage in the beginning could be her and we'll be returning to this moment in time by the end. The worn Robin colors are similar to the design + their head is conveniently covered.

In terms of story, I'm obviously heavily biased, but the initial read got me rolling in emotions with how it has you caring for Damian. Damian as a character is so fantastical in essence - it’s part of his individual charm in the batfam cast! an heir of two kingdoms, born and raised with great expectations suddenly thrust into an unfamiliar land. he has a sword. he has a dragon bat for a companion. he is haunted by the sins he has committed. he is two apples tall. he's truly fairytale material!!

LIKE...past the panels of only his silhouettes, this is our introductory appearances of Damian. It's laid out clearly in the narration, but this parallel is SO GOOD: from the powerful and ornate visuals of Damian and the Al Ghuls -> to a simple panel of Batman's shadow behind a boy littered in scars, stripped of his home and status

Damian is out of his element and proves himself in the way he knows how!!

just kick me down a flight of stairs why don't you. i don't know which messes me up more, the top 3 or bottom 3 panels. His facial expressions!! his expectations for approval dashed!! Damian's hand reaching for his father!! only to be left alone with the body. The page after this is the final nail in the coffin in feeling just how lost he is in the world before he acts on it. And you root for him the entire way!!😭

Despite Damian's fanciful background there's so much heart to be shown in his struggles and discoveries - and this classic form of a fairy tale lays it out so brilliantly!! It's shaping up to be an amazing balance of heavier elements and whimsy based on this first issue, and it leaves you wanting more!!

Besides being a thoroughly enjoyable read, it's inspiring work!! i've ordered Juni Ba's other books to consume more of his storytelling, and here's the ones i've found so far if you're interested in checking them out as well!!

Mobilis: My Life with Captain Nemo

Monkey Meat

Djeliya: A West African Fantasy Epic

The Unlikely Story of Felix and Macabber

okay shockingly, i didn't blab about how cute Damian is as much as i thought i would, but i think the collage at the top speaks for itself lol

this is all you need to know how cute Damian is in this!! his cheeks are so pinchable, it was done on page!! 🥺 these panels obliterate me

#rambling #damian wayne #it's been 2 weeks since this issue came out and i'm still cracking it open every other day #throwing my chattering into his tag to possibly get more people into the series especially if you're a fan of Damian!!#i even used capitalization for slightly easier reading LOLL #the Damian collage was taking so long i was laughing how i'm taking more time to do that than the actual ramble #then i started rambling and then i realized i couldn't shut up sdfgh #feel like i sound delusional most of the time so these are maybe my most coherent thoughts LOL #pointing at pages over my brother's shoulder 'love that...so cool...look how pretty that is...' articulating WHY makes me sound insane😭#the boy wonder

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nuyhado3o · 2 months ago

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Lost in the lights

Gdragon x fem!reader

Warnings: party, alcohol

Genre: nun serious but fluff at the end

Synopsis: Navigating life with G-Dragon during his "bad boy" phase means balancing between the world of flashing lights and the quiet moments only you two share. As the chaos of fame swirls around him, he always finds his way back to you—his anchor in a world that never stops spinning.

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Dating G-Dragon meant living in two different worlds.

By day, Ji-Yong was quiet, thoughtful—sketching in his notebook with his glasses slipping down his nose, curled up in an oversized hoodie that made him look smaller than the superstar the world saw. He’d hum half-written lyrics while lying with his head in your lap, cigarette smoke curling in the air as he absentmindedly traced circles on your skin.

By night, he was G-Dragon. The life of the party. The untouchable icon.

And you? You were somewhere in between, balancing on the edge of his chaos.

“Stay close to me,” he murmured, fingers lacing through yours as you stepped into the club. It was always like this—cameras flashing, whispers trailing behind him, people pushing just to be near him. But no matter how loud the room got, he always kept you anchored at his side.

VIP tables, expensive champagne, bass shaking the floor beneath you. He moved through the crowd like he owned it, greeting high-profile friends with a lazy grin, his arm draped casually around your waist. But even as the night raged on, you could feel it—the way his grip tightened, the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Wanna get out of here?” you whispered, lips brushing against his ear.

He glanced at you, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. Then, without a word, he took your hand and led you through the chaos—past the flashing lights, past the people calling his name.

Minutes later, you were both in the backseat of his car, parked on an empty street with the city glowing in the distance. He leaned back, exhaling a slow breath as he ran a hand through his messy blonde hair.

“Too much?” you asked softly, watching him carefully.

He let out a quiet laugh, tilting his head toward you. “Too much.”

You reached for him, fingers brushing against his cheek, and just like that, the tension in his shoulders eased. He leaned into your touch, his lips ghosting over your palm before pressing a lingering kiss there.

“I don’t care about all that,” he admitted, voice low, tired. “The parties, the people… None of it feels real.”

You knew. You’d always known.

“You’re real,” he continued, gaze locking onto yours. “You’re the only thing that feels real.”

And in that moment—just the two of you, hidden away from the world—you knew that no matter how wild the nights got, no matter how untouchable G-Dragon seemed to everyone else… Ji-Yong would always come back to you.

A/n: shot n sweet, quick little post!

#hes so cutie i love him #nuyhado3o #kpop #gdragon x reader #gdragon #kwon jiyong #bigbang #bigbang x reader #kwon jiyong x reader

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fran-valz · 11 months ago

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Some highlights from the slop that is the AI Worm audiobook on YouTube Music.

Ai Taylor confronts lung, who has just transformed into a giant evil spiderman with bug wings.

Taylor shows that the bug antennas are a canon part of the costume, she might be changing race every other chapter.

Brian flexes on the dogs and a 10 year old Rachel (This is the only time Brian is portrayed as black)

Wasp skitter fights the ghost rider gang.

White Brian gives Taylor or Lisa a bug inside of a giant amber, while the rest of the Undersiders watch, including their latest recruit, a disembodied leg.

Canary is on space trial being represented by a robot lawyer.

DC fans execute nightwing cosplayer.

Taylor or Faultline single handedly take down the merchants in their sci-fi military base.

Superman checks his emails in a dark room.

Skitter comes back to her modest cabin after a long day working in the mines, her wife is preparing some horrific looking food.

The PRT council discusses a derpy-looking photo of Taylor.

????

Theo fights Taylor using his iconic venom suit in front of the spider mastermind.

Wasp Skitter and Mecha Weaver save the city once again

#ai horror #worm #worm web serial #wildbow #wormblr #taylor hebert #brian laborn #rachel lindt #ai trash

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chroniclesofskz · 2 months ago

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The Alphas Mate

My first Alpha related fic hope you like.

In the bustling heart of the city, nestled among towering skyscrapers, stood the headquarters of Melodic Howl Records—a sanctuary where melodies intertwined with ambition. The man who reigned over this empire was none other than the enigmatic Chan, the CEO whose piercing grey eyes and commanding presence could make even the most seasoned music moguls tremble. Behind his finely tailored suits and stern demeanor lay a secret that few could fathom: Chan was an alpha werewolf, a being of unyielding power cloaked in mystery.

Y/N, a bright-eyed intern with an insatiable passion for music, had just received the promotion of a lifetime—becoming Chan's personal assistant. As she stepped into his opulent office, her heart raced with excitement. The walls were adorned with gold records and framed photographs of iconic musicians, each a testament to Chan's undeniable influence in the industry. Little did she know, she was about to embark on a tumultuous journey that would intertwine her fate with his in unimaginable ways.

"Good evening, Mr. Bang," she chirped, placing her clipboard meticulously on the gleaming mahogany desk. He barely glanced up from his paperwork, his gruff reply a curt, "Call me Chan." The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down her spine as she felt an inexplicable connection—a magnetic pull that transcended mere attraction. It was an urge borne from deep within, a visceral need to be closer, to absorb his essence.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N immersed herself in her work, tirelessly supporting him through the whirlwind of demands that came with running a record label. Each nod of approval from Chan ignited a thrill within her, and she began to understand the depths of his dedication to music and the fierce loyalty he held for his team. However, as the moon waxed fuller each night, something began to shift in his demeanor. His eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, his movements became more primal, and his scent—a rich, intoxicating aroma—grew stronger, filling the office with a heady allure.

One fateful evening, the atmosphere in the office grew thick with unspoken tension. Chan summoned her into his sanctuary, his voice deeper and more urgent than usual. "Y/N, I need you to stay late tonight. There’s a lot of work to be done." His gaze bore into hers, sending a tremor of fear mingled with desire through her. Heart racing, she nodded, knowing there was no denying the pull of his presence.

As night fell, the building emptied until it was just the two of them, surrounded by fluorescent lights buzzing like disturbed bees. The weight of unspoken words hung between them as he rose abruptly, pushing his chair back with an unsettling scrape. "Follow me," he commanded, his tone low and urgent.

Her heart thumping in her chest, Y/N trailed behind him to the far corner of the office, where shadows danced ominously around them. His eyes, typically sharp and calculated, merged into an intense glaze, hunger emanating from him like a wild storm. He turned to face her, his breath labored, and she sensed the darkness unfurling within him.

"I'm in heat," he growled, the words heavy with restraint and raw need. "The scent of your blood is driving me to madness." Panic rippled through Y/N, a shocking revelation crashing over her like a tidal wave. A werewolf. Suddenly, all the signs that had previously evaded her comprehension fell into place.

Fear mingled with an unfamiliar thrill as his hand reached for her shoulder, the touch igniting an electrifying connection between them. "I didn't mean for it to go this far," he murmured, eyes wide with torment. "But I need you. I need you to help me through this."

In that instant, an invisible bond snapped into being, a fiery thread entwining their souls. Y/N gasped as warmth flooded her being, a sense of belonging that was both exhilarating and terrifying. He leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over her skin, and she felt an instinctual pull toward him. With a primal snarl, he pushed her onto the cold office table, sending papers flying as the weight of his body pressed down upon her.

It was raw, it was passionate—unlike anything she had ever imagined. He claimed her not just physically, but as his mate, and she accepted that claim without fully understanding its consequences. In the aftermath, they lay entwined, gasping for breath beneath the silvery light of the moon, the reality of what had transpired enveloping them like an impenetrable fog.

Chan’s hands roamed over her curves, his touch leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he explored every inch of her willing body. He was rough, his need for her unbridled, and she met him with equal fervor. When he finally entered her, she felt herself stretched to the limits, filled by his monstrous length. He growled with pleasure, the vibrations resonating deep within her as he began to move with a feral rhythm that stoked the flames of their desire.

Their mating was an all-consuming dance of flesh, a ravenous claiming that neither could resist. He pounded into her, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body. Her nails dug into his back as she clung to him, her moans mingling with his growls in a symphony of lust. The room spun around them, and the only thing that grounded her was the feel of him deep inside her, marking her as his own.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the otherwise silent office, punctuated by the occasional grunt of pleasure or gasp of pain. Y/N’s legs were wrapped around his waist, her ankles locking together as she arched her back, offering herself up to his primal need. Her orgasm built like a crescendo, a tightening coil that threatened to shatter her into a million pieces.

And then, just as she felt herself reaching the peak, it happened. Her vision swam with stars as pleasure unlike anything she had ever experienced washed over her, leaving her trembling and spent in his arms. He followed close behind, his teeth sinking into her neck once more as he reached his own climax, his roar of release a testament to the power of their bond.

The next few moments were a blur of sensation and emotion. They lay tangled together, their hearts racing in time with one another’s. Y/N felt a strange warmth spreading through her, a sense of belonging that was as comforting as it was overwhelming. She didn’t know what the future held, but in that moment, all she could do was hold on tight to the man who had irrevocably changed her life.

As days morphed into weeks, the bond blossomed and deepened, but Y/N soon realised that the nature of that bond was altering her very essence. She felt shifts within her body, changes that resonated with the werewolf lineage coursing through her veins. Then came the unimaginable news—a positive pregnancy test. A human carrying a werewolf's pup.

As time seemed to stand still. Y/N's heart raced, pounding in her chest like a wild drum. Staring at the little pink plus sign, the reality washed over her in waves of disbelief and terror. She felt the echoes of ancient instincts surge within her, whispering secrets of a legacy she had only begun to comprehend.

In that instant, everything changed. The world outside faded into a blur, and the familiar comfort of her surroundings transformed into a battleground of emotions. Fear tangled with a flicker of hope, twisting her insides as she grappled with the implications of the life growing within her.

Her mind flashed with vivid images: the intensity of the moonlit nights, the primal energy coursing through her veins, and the undeniable connection she shared with the enigmatic figure by her side. What would it mean to bear a child connected to both human and beast? Would she be able to protect it from the dangers lurking in the shadows of their dual world?

As she stood there, breathless and trembling, memories of whispered legends danced in her mind. Stories of werewolf offspring, powerful yet vulnerable, revered and feared. Panic surged once more, her thoughts racing—Would she be able to fulfill this daunting destiny? What if the beast within her reared its head at the wrong moment, threatening the very life she carried?

Y/N’s breath quickened, reflecting the chaos within. Fear had quickly morphed into resolve; she recognized that she could no longer remain a passive observer of her fate. Every instinct screamed for her to fight, to seek knowledge, and to forge a path for the little life that now nestled within her. She had to embrace the transformation unfolding within her, to harness the power of her lineage and rise above the uncertainties.

With clenched fists and gritted teeth, she vowed to uncover the truth about her heritage, to learn and prepare for the challenges ahead. Whatever awaited her, she would confront it head-on, for she was not simply a human; she was a conduit of ancient magic harboring a legacy that was only just beginning to awaken. And so, with determination sparking in her veins, Y/N stepped into the uncertain future, ready to face whatever tempest awaited her and her unborn child.

When she revealed the news to Chan, the air in the room grew thick with an electrifying tension, a tempest brewing between them. His face paled, shadows deepening under his brow, as the weight of her revelation settled like a leaden shroud. “You will terminate it!” he barked, the words tearing from him with a ferocity that sent a chill racing down Y/N's spine. His expression darkened, his werewolf instincts kicking in, eyes flashing a vivid gold—each flicker reflecting a mix of anguish and rage. “It’s not safe for you, or for the pup!”

Time seemed to stretch and warp around them, the silence punctuated only by the quickened rhythm of their breaths. Y/N felt the room spiral into chaos, her heart pounding a desperate melody against her ribs. She stood her ground, fire igniting in her chest, determination coursing through her veins. “I won’t,” she replied, her voice years beyond her age, steady and unwavering like steel forged in the furnace of battle.

“Do you even hear yourself?” Chan's voice cracked with disbelief, desperation seeping through every syllable. “You’re talking about bringing a child into a world that would tear it apart! What if it is hunted? What if it can’t control the beast within? We can’t risk it—"

The tremor of fear she had kept at bay flickered at the edges of her resolve, but she refused to let it shatter her stance. “I’m carrying this child, Chan,” she shot back, the weight of her words echoing in the charged atmosphere. “This is my choice. I will not let fear dictate my future or the life I bear.”

For a moment, his fierce expression faltered, the storm of emotions swirling within him visible like a tempest brewing on the horizon. Y/N could see the battle within him, the instinct to protect clashing with the raw truth of their bond. Her heart ached; she understood the depth of his fears, the desperate need to shield her from danger—but she couldn’t back down.

With each breath, she felt her connection to the child grow stronger, a tether of possibility and hope that transcended the shadows looming above them. “You may see it as a threat, but for me, it’s a life worth fighting for. It’s our child—a piece of us, a legacy that deserves a chance.”

Her words hung heavy in the air, challenging him as much as they defined her own strength. Chan’s jaw clenched, the internal war still raging within him, but Y/N stood firm, unyielding as the mountains that rose outside their window. The silence thickened, fraught with tension, as they locked eyes—a silent understanding beginning to unravel between them.

And in that profound moment, amid the roiling storm of emotions, one truth crystallized: she would not let fear extinguish the spark of life that had begun to flicker within her. Not now. Not ever.

What followed was a tumultuous battle of wills that tested the very foundation of their bond. Chan was torn between the primal instincts of a protective alpha and the complexities of his growing feelings for her. Every moment felt like a high-stakes game, where every word exchanged was a potential turning point. He wrestled with his need to shield her, to protect the life they had created, against the burgeoning realization that she was stronger than he had ever acknowledged.

As the days passed, Y/N faced her own fears head-on. Her body stretched and shifted to accommodate the pup growing within her, each change a reminder of the life intertwined with her own. With every ache and flutter, she felt both exhilaration and trepidation, knowing the very essence of her being was being reshaped by the child’s energy. Meanwhile, the werewolf community buzzed with whispers and judgment, their disdain cutting like frost. The union between a human and a werewolf was not just rare; it was viewed as an aberration, a violation of the natural order that sent ripples of distress through the pack.

Yet each day brought new challenges, and it was within that chaos that love, stubborn and unyielding, flourished. They leaned on each other, a fragile tether binding them together amidst the storm. Chan often found himself watching her with an affection that was surprisingly tender, as if seeing her for the first time—her strength shining like a beacon in the shadows. Y/N, in turn, began to recognise the weight of the sacrifices he was willing to make for her and their child—the burden he bore as the alpha, grappling with both protection and acceptance.

As the full moon approached, it cast a silvery glow that shimmered ominously outside, the world reverent in its beauty. Yet within the stark white walls of the hospital, where Y/N had made her way for the impending birth, the atmosphere crackled with palpable tension. Each contraction began like distant thunder, growing louder and more fierce as they vibrated through her body. She gripped the sides of the bed, knuckles turning white, and with each wave of pain, it felt like a knife slashing through her very essence.

The contractions intensified, each wave of pain felt like a tsunami crashing over her, threatening to pull her under into a dark abyss. Y/N could feel the life within her shifting, responding to the primal call of her mate, but her human body was failing to keep up with nature’s demands. The room pulsed with energy, the air thick with the scent of sweat, blood, and desperation as the full moon illuminated her struggle.

"Y/N, stay with me!" Chan's voice reverberated in her ears, a lifeline in the storm. His hands were steady on her shoulders, but she could see the fear flickering in his grey eyes. The battle between his wolf instincts and his concern for her was palpable, a dangerous dance teetering on the edge of chaos.

"Chan," she gasped, struggling for breath. "I… I need you… to turn me. I can’t—" She couldn't even finish her thought as another contraction seized her. It was as if the universe itself was trying to wrench the life from her.

“No!” His voice was raw with anguish. He could already feel the pulse of their unborn pup, the future on the line, but the thought of losing Y/N tore at his very soul. “You don’t know what you’re asking—”

“Please! Just do it!” she cried, desperation clawing at her insides. “I can’t keep fighting like this.” Her body was betraying her, and the sharpness of the pain threatened to envelop her completely.

With a fierce snarl, Chan’s resolve shattered, and his love outweighed the risks that loomed in the dark corners of his mind. He grasped her wrist tightly, his canine teeth bared as he sank them into her flesh. The moment he bit her, a surge of raw power coursed through their bond, igniting a wildfire of energy that enveloped them both.

Y/N's vision blurred as her body reacted to the mixture of agony and ecstasy. The world around her dissolved, and she felt torn between two realms—the human world she had known and the feral wilderness that beckoned her. As the change began, pain erupted within her, lightning-striking every nerve, her body twisting and turning in ways she had never dreamed possible. It felt like her very essence was being torn apart, a battle raging within.

“Stay with me! Fight!” Chan’s voice cut through her trance, a grounding force in the chaos. He could sense her slipping, the toll of the transformation threatening to snuff out the light of her life. Her heart raced, but so did the desperation of his plea. With every ounce of strength he had, he wrapped his aura around her, pouring his spirit into her.

The room was a flurry of shadows and light, the energy crackling like a thunderstorm. Y/N felt herself begin to drown, the pain ripping her into shards. “Chan—” she choked out, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m… I’m slipping!”

“NO!” he roared, his eyes glowing fiercely, the wolf within him rising to the forefront. With a primal cry, he pressed his forehead to hers, sharing more of his essence, intertwining their spirits. In that moment, as realms collided, she was filled with his strength, his determination, and all of his love—a bond forged in fire and pain.

With a scream that echoed through the night, Y/N shattered the barrier between human and wolf. The transformation unleashed a torrent of energy, and she felt herself explode into existence, the world around her brightening until it was almost blinding. Darkness ebbed away, the agony receding as she embraced the new power coursing through her veins.

But the surge also threatened to take more than she could give. Her heart faltered, struggling against the sheer force of the change. Chan felt it before she did, his heart dropping into his stomach as he realized she was fading still, despite the transformation. “Y/N! Please! You can’t leave me!”

He could feel her slipping away, the life within her waning even as she became something altogether powerful. She was caught between human vulnerability and wolf ferocity, struggling to stabilize. The tension in the room escalated, the air thick with impending doom.

“CHAN!” she gasped, her voice a fragile echo. With a final effort, she reached deep within, drawing from their bond. She channeled everything—her love for him, the life they had built, and the life they were about to start—with their pup.

With one final surge of power, she cried out, managing to find her voice. “I won’t give up! Not now!” The cosmic force erupted, and Y/N surged forward, clawing her way back from the brink of the abyss as she anchored herself to Chan.

The first ray of sunlight streamed through the hospital windows, bathing the room in golden warmth, and with it dawned a rebirth.

Y/N was born anew, a vibrant tapestry woven from the threads of both human resilience and primal strength. As she opened her eyes, the world felt different, sharper, as vibrant colors and sounds overwhelmed her senses. The sterile smell of antiseptic mingled with the unmistakable scent of Chan—the essence of her mate, her protector.

“Y/N!” Chan breathed, a mixture of relief and joy flooding over him. The weight of worry that had been pressing down on him for hours disappeared in an instant. He cradled her face in his hands, his thumb brushing over the marks he had left on her neck, the bond they shared now magnified a thousandfold. “You did it… you came back to me!”

The sight of him sparked something deep within her, a fierce connection that surged through her heart and ignited her soul. “I’m… alive?” she murmured, astonished, as the realization settled in. It was surreal, like stepping into a different realm where she was both herself and something far greater.

Chan’s eyes softened, but they still carried an underlying feral edge that reminded her of the wildness they had both embraced. “Yes, more than alive. You’re one of us now.” His voice held a reverence that sent shivers down her spine. “Our pup… it’s time.”

With a sudden rush of urgency, the memory of the contractions and the impending labor surged back, reminding her of the life they had created together. “The baby, Chan! Where—?” But before she could finish her thought, the muffled cries of an infant echoed through the air, a sweet melody rising above the chaos.

The nursery door creaked open, and in the soft light, a nurse walked in cradling a small bundle wrapped in soft fabrics. Y/N’s heart soared as she caught sight of a tiny face peeking from the folds, delicate and utterly perfect. The child was a reflection of their love—a blend of both human and werewolf, a miracle forged from their bond.

“After everything…” Y/N whispered, tears filling her eyes. “I can’t believe it’s real.” She held out her arms instinctively, and Chan nodded to the nurse, who gently placed the baby in Y/N's waiting hands.

Looking down, her breath caught. The pup had soft, chocolate-brown hair, with skin that shimmered faintly in the light, a sign of the power it would inherit. Its eyes flickered open, revealing the same piercing grey as Chan. The connection Y/N felt surged as she gazed into the innocent face of their child, the binding thread between them tangling ever tighter.

“Welcome to our family,” she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks, a mix of joy and vulnerability flooding her heart. Chan knelt beside her, wrapping his arms around them both, his fierce protectiveness shining through.

“Together, always,” he vowed, his voice low and resonant. “The challenges ahead may be daunting, but we will face them as a pack.”

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mistydeyes · 2 years ago

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hiiiii I LOVE YOUR WORK!!!!!!!! Can you please do 141 with a model reader who does Chanel,Versace etc and she gets an invite to do Victoria’s Secret runway and they see her down the runway how would they react

she’s not any model shes and icon,sex symbol,brains,she is the moment

big inspo for me ( I want to become a model)

AHHH I LOVE THIS! anon i feel you tho, every time i look on pinterest i just want to be a model! thank you for requesting <3

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summary: The 141 has always had an odd connection of friends, allies, and connections. However, they can't deny that they don't enjoy your luxurious life as a model and the perks that come along with attending one of your shows.

pairing: Taskforce 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing

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A series of events in Milan allowed the 141 to cross paths with you. Staying in a lavish French penthouse was far from what they had expected on a mission dictated by Laswell but her connections with your retired INTERPOL mother had brought them the extravagance of your home and lifestyle. Laswell had to threaten to have their court marshaled if they delayed their arrival home any longer. You thought of that brief moment in summer fondly as you left Gaz a voicemail. "I have a runway in New York coming up, let me know if you'll be on leave," you spoke on the phone, examining your manicured nails, "accommodations and champagne are on me."

"This is nice," Price said, dropping his duffle onto the marbled tile of their hotel room. "Are you kidding, Cap?" Gaz said as he opened every door into the massive suite, "This is fucking amazing." When they got off the plane at JFK, they had not expected a private driver who brought them to the ornate hotel. The room itself had four separate bedrooms with two bathrooms filled with the best amenities. Soap had taken the opportunity to run over and open a bottle of champagne while Ghost pilfered the small shampoo and conditioner bottles. While the men explored the vast rooms and fought over the beds, there was a knock at the door. Price opened it to reveal a well-dressed bell-hop boy, holding a tray with an envelope. "Four tickets sent by one of the models," he spoke and Price handled the black envelope with embossed pink lettering. "Hell of invitation," he muttered before he looked at the runway time and shared the details with his team. "Wonder what she'll be wearing," Soap mused as he turned to take over one of the bathrooms.

Behind the stage, there was organized chaos with models running around in their silk robes in between the stations. The chatter roared as they chatted with the various hair stylists and makeup artists. "First VS show?" your makeup artist asked as she applied glitter delicately to your primed lids. "Yes, but not my first modeling gig," you smiled as you felt the pressure on your closed eyes, "Versace was beyond a mess compared to this." The artist laughed as she continued to prep your look. You could see mixes of pink and gold applied to your lips and the apples of your cheeks. "We think an olive green liner would look stunning on you," she said before holding a green eyeliner pencil in hand. You nodded in response as you shifted a bit in your robe. You gently closed your eyes again as you envisioned your latest outfit for the night.

Weeks prior you had visited the city to see your outfit for the night. A sage green bra and panty set decorated with pink and glittery flowers to resemble a meadow. Your wings were made of a delicate rose pink chiffon that was reminiscent of a fairy. "Do you like?" the designer asked as you walked around the stand and examined every stitch and detail. You smiled as you nodded happily, feeling the soft fabric under your fingertips. "Any particular inspiration?" you questioned as you made sure to feel the weight of the wings. "The newest line of Victoria's Secret," she spoke dreamily, "the delicacy of nature."

With your makeup and hair done, you walked over to change and receive the final touches from the design team. The group walked rapidly around your figure, assuring every detail would shine when the lights hit your walk. "Have anyone special here tonight?" one of the designers asked as he cut a few loose stitches. "Just a few friends from Europe," you spoke, hoping you didn't sound too entitled. You wanted to talk more but your odd friendship with a small special forces group would definitely reach some tabloids. "You look perfect darling," another designer spoke and you nodded before beginning to walk in your heels. "You can mingle with the others. Your collection is after the classics set," she reminded. You took a deep breath and made some facetious conversation with the other women. They were in awe at your previous shows but you just simply talked as if each was a mediocre experience. "Alright ladies, walk begins in five," a voice called over the comms and you lined up accordingly. As you watched the excited group in front of you, you wondered what you would treat the 141 to for dinner. You were sure if someone knew this is what you thought of before a show, they would laugh.

"Move up, Y/N," the stage manager directed, pulling you out of your food-related musings, "almost time for you to go on." You moved forward, getting into the comfort of your model walk you had done so many times before. You took a deep breath as you heard the live music stream through the curtains and the ethereal light peek through. You looked down at your attire one last time before the model ahead of you returned and it was your turn to awe the show. "Go, go, go," you could hear the stage manager command as the bright lights and menagerie of faces met your gaze.

"I think this is her!" Gaz commented, leaning forward in his chair. "You've been saying that for the past four models," Ghost corrected before he turned to see who was coming out next. As the men directed their gaze to the stage, you confidently strutted onto the platform. They were glued to your figure, perfectly accentuated by the flirtatious lingerie set. The details were delicate and encapsulated your aura. "Fuck." Soap whispered under his breath as the glitter and flower additions to your ensemble shimmered underneath the light. Your wings bounced and looked like they flittered in the air as you made your way in front of the watching crowd. "She's a natural at this," Price commented as he watched the way you walked in a straight line with an air of elegance in each step. He also couldn't deny the way you shined on stage and how the cameras clicked in rapid succession. As you reached the end of the runway, you took an opportunity to look over at the seats you had picked for the 141. You gave a small wink before blowing a kiss in their direction.

Upon your exiting, there was a clamor amongst the group as to who the kiss was directed to. Primarily, Soap and Gaz were at odds thinking you made eye contact with them as you puckered your glossed lips. Price attempted to put a stop to them before Ghost spoke up. "I'm sure that was for me," he spoke quietly, leaving everyone to shelf the conversation and bring it up later over dinner.

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