#its been so long since ive had a fic idea. so long

[titaniium999]

I GOT A

METAL SONIC FIC IDEA AT WORK.

ok ok look. basically. metal rebels again having become sentient and craving independence and runs away before eggman can reprogram the autonomy out of him again. and what does eggman do this time? instead of trying to get metal back or whatever, he builds a NEW metal sonic to replace him, and this one--instead of going after sonic and thinking of sonic as his inferior copy, eggman codes him to think the old metal sonic is his inferior copy and needs to be destroyed.

and so one thing about this is that metal sonic soon finds out what its like to be in sonic's place. having a copy of himself always out to destroy him. and it makes him feel disposable and replaceable even though eggman always told him 'you're my greatest creation'. and im just frothing at the mouth over this

[thebuttsmcgee]

so. um. 👉👈

hi guysies.

Ig I should just say like. Hi

I haven't been posting here as much cause. Idk. Might be depression? I keep thinking its cause I've been so busy, which also wouldn't be not untrue, but these past, like, 3 weeks I think so far? I've had some free time but I haven't cause. I dunno, then again, I haven't been doing too much in general? I gues, besides very mandatory things, hell I've even been lacking in my regular skyrim hours of playing.

That, and as said, I get super melancholic when I remember just how sad and bittersweet it is that t0h is. Actually legit over. The show and experience, that is.

Oh all that and also becuz my headphones broke! Fuck! That's like number 2 in my bare necessities for when I post, do almost anything really! It's seriously been painful this past month going without headphones holy shit. Dude I've been scratching at the bit for some relief for headphones, I NEED music legitimately. Even right now, as I'm typing this on my phone, my music is on low levels.

But yerp. Its been. Rough. Really rough. I really do appreciate yall, everyone of yall. Have a sweet week everyone, ✌️!

[freyito]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪᴍᴇʀᴀ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ...

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti, mr. reca, sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, jiaoqiu, moze, mydei, phainon, anaxa (seperate) x reader

✩ in which: you bring home a chimera that looks like them.

✧ a/n: SOMEHOW IT FEELS LIKE ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE POSTED A FIC??? IDK IF THIS IS NORMALLY HOW LONG IT TAKES ME BUT AUGHHH!!!!!!! i got a job again and many more things happening irl but i am FINALLY! FINALLY!!! starting to get back into the groove of writing and drawing and even gaming teehee... sometimes all you need is a change to get out of a slump i guess.

you may also notice that a few characters are missing from this post! thats cause whenever i do one of these big ol posts, a couple of characters really tend to make it feel like it drags on for me. that leads to me really dreading writing the fic and, of course, leads to me taking a month on the fic lol. this will be one of the last posts i do with all the male characters (and female, if i ever decide to write for them in the future), before i move onto writing five characters at most. im sorry if you guys liked these posts and your favorite characters werent written for, i know these are like. my most popular pieces. it just takes so long and by the time i reach certain characters i feel like im all outta juice.

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread

✎ wc: 4.3k

⎯ Aventurine

“Well… I suppose we’ll see how this goes…”

AVENTURINE isn’t exactly against the idea of a chimera, but with all his catcakes, is it a good idea…? Both of you don’t know, and you feel a little embarrassed to admit that you didn’t think of this before bringing home the chimera. He’s not mad though, he’s quite taken by the little creature. But, with his penchant to collect catcakes, he worries about possible socialization issues.

The chimera, however, fits right in– aside from its striking eyes. Loafing and lounging with the catcakes, day in, day out. With a big ol’ smile on its cute face, happy to be with its kin… You think. Chimeras have the body of lion cubs, right? So aren’t they like… kind of related to catcakes? It’s a question you’d rather not ponder. Still, even so far from home, the chimera seems quite content. Paired with a bunch of companions who are all spoiled equally.

That being said, it seems you have chosen one of the laziest chimeras known to man. Ever since you had brought it home, it had kept Aventurine in bed even later, refusing to get up from his chest, even if the man had a meeting. It seems Aventurine has spoiled it far too much, or it has gotten so used to the comfortable life that it’s gotten quite stubborn…

⎯ Dr. Ratio

“Interesting….”

Most would not take RATIO as any type of pet person. No cats, certainly no dogs, no birds… the list goes on. Even his colleagues would not have guessed he’d take such a shine to such a… cute creature. As far as they know, cute is not a word within Ratio’s vocabulary. So, when his peers and students see a chimera toddling behind him, they can’t help but be interested.

He acts like he isn’t attached to the chimera, treating it more like a specimen than the cute little lion-butterfly-thing it is. When you first brought it to him, he was quite intrigued. A creature from a planet that not even the memokeepers can reach… It's a wonderful research opportunity, and a gift. One he cherishes, despite his logical approach to it. 

It seems he has bonded with the chimera on a deeper level than you expected. It just so happens that you have picked up a chimera that not only looks like Veritas, but also one that was just as enlightened as he was. You think. You don’t understand a lick of the chimera’s little chirps, but Ratio seems to understand well enough. Then again, the math that he prattles on about with the chimera, you don’t understand either.

⎯ Boothill

“Awh, who’s this little feller?”

BOOTHILL is actually quite delighted when you bring a chimera home to him, even if your reasoning is a little… odd. Looks like him? Well, there’s only one of him and that means there’s only one look-alike; the man in the mirror. Still, despite this, he’s practically in love with the chimera. It’s been so long since he’s even had a pet– and he’s always missed the dogs and cats on the ranch– so why not indulge in your silly little shenanigans, and appreciate this little critter you’ve taken the time to pick out for him?

The two get along so well. Boothill had always wanted a pet eventually, but with his lifestyle he was afraid to ever adopt. Considering he was running around half the galaxy, he was wanted, and the closest thing to home he knew now was a ship, it was just unfair to subject any sort of animal to that life. Now that he had you and a proper home, however, he had been debating getting a pet for a long, long while.

So imagine his surprise when you had handed off a chimera to him the minute he got home after a particularly rough bounty. Even the most snarkiest, annoying personality would have him charmed. It could constantly choose you over him, and he’d still fawn over the thing. He’s happy you have someone to keep you company when he’s away, but the little kid in him (who remained, despite the fact that everything around him had burned to ash) is much more happy to come home to a pet once more.

⎯ Gallagher

“Another stray, hm?”

Despite the chimera’s protests that it is not a stray, GALLAGHER doesn’t seem to mind a new pet. He’ll just pretend he didn’t hear that comment about the chimera looking like him. You had compared him to a dog so many times before, that he was practically immune. Even if a chimera wasn't a dog, or a cat, or… well, there was no use in wondering what exactly it was. Though, he was quite intrigued that you had brought home something from Amphoreus of all places, it seems that the nameless just keep going for bigger and bigger marks.

The chimera itself is quite happy to get away from its work and laze about. On the days that Gallagher is home, it enjoys curling up on his lap (or his chest, if Gallagher is napping), and bathing in his and your attention. It’s quite domestic really, you have seen Gallagher with his other pets before, but he’s more of a big dog kind of guy. To see something relatively small curled up with him, when he’s watching TV or getting ready for bed, it makes you feel… light.

He’s also quite happy to have a pet that can actually talk back. Gallagher often catches himself muttering to himself because of how much he tends to talk to his pets. So when he gets responses from the chimera, even if it’s asking to go back to bed or telling him that this work is just ‘too much’ (all Gallagher was doing was pouring himself a drink, the chimera simply chose to follow him), it was still wonderful for him to have a buddy. It’s not everyday that you have a pet that can talk back to you, right?

⎯ Sunday

“Ah… you thought of me…?”

Now, SUNDAY isn’t against pets, he’s just a little nervous. The last pet he had… Well, you know what happened to it. But, by all means a chimera is an extraterrestrial. So, naturally, he’s a little shocked. Even if the little chimera is as cute as a button and just so damn happy to be in his lap. While he knew stepping aboard the Astral Express would mean he would see quite a lot– which included different planets, and by proxy, different flora, fauna, people, and what not– he never really expected to be face to face with such a… thing.

Looking into its wide, golden eyes, however, he feels a sense of… kinship. As weird as it is. He does his best to ignore it, not to get too overly attached to the chimera. After all, surely you must bring it back to Amphoreus. Right? He does his best to ignore the papers in your hands, and chooses instead to believe that this ‘adoption’ is more of a ‘foster’ situation.

That worry dissipates with the coming days. He finds himself quite enamored with the chimera, even sneaking it leftovers when he can. He doesn’t mean to, but he ends up reading the creature passages from his books, or from some data entries he borrowed from the archive. In fact, the idea that you would have to bring the chimera back breaks his heart a little. Not that you would, it’s quite cute to watch the chimera follow Sunday around.

⎯ Argenti

“What a stunning creature!”

Isn’t the word ‘cute’ better instead? Nevertheless, ARGENTI is quite enraptured by the chimera. So much so that he doesn’t seem to realize the similarity of the creature. Really, when you saw the sparkle in its eyes, you knew this was perfect for him. The similarity was uncanny, really. With the way the chimera was staring into your very soul, chattering off (which, you could already imagine it was praising the beauty of you), a part of you wanted to get it contacts.

Needless to say, The chimera is glued to Argenti. Or perhaps it's the other way around? The man doesn’t have any traveling companions, and he had preferred for you to stay on his ship whenever he was out on one of his excursions. The chimera, however, seemed to be quite the trusty companion. That little ‘awoo’ must be vicious, given how highly the man spoke of it. ‘It’s like a cry from the very heavens!’

It seems your gift is quite well loved, though. Not that Argenti would ever dislike your gifts. You could give him a rock– one that isn’t even shiny or shaped in an interesting way– and he’d treat it like you’d have proposed to him. The chimera, however, seems to have struck a rather special chord within him. It is hard to know if you’ve truly surprised him, but you can definitely see how attached he is to the chimera. It has been too long since someone gave him something so meaningful. Perhaps even the first time.

⎯ Mr. Reca

“Ah, is this a new crew member…? Or perhaps, a new star?”

Is there a universe where MR. RECA isn’t looking for some scene to capture? ‘Cause it’s definitely not this one. No one has ever had the ability to capture something, anything from Amphoreus, so of course he’s fascinated with the chimera. He glosses over the fact that the critter looks like him. Not enough time to think about that, when this is a star in the making. What shall he come up with this time?

He unknowingly dotes on that poor little Chimera, as well… in his own way. There’s no critiques for the creature's performance (though, you must think that it doesn’t understand exactly what Reca’s goal is.), only dazzling praise, even for something as simple as curling up and taking a nap. Such a tiny little thing, full of all sorts of inspiration! It deserves nothing more than the best of praise!

For at least a month straight, he simply cannot stop thinking of ideas and ways to make the chimera a star. A documentary, perhaps. No, no, that’s too simple. A thriller, maybe? Now, that would be interesting. How could he use such a cute creature for such a medium…? Ah, so many things to work out! This excitement keeps him fueled for days. Oftentimes, he’s writing out scenes at his desk, pacing, or even talking your ear off. All while the chimera is curled up in his lap, content as can be.

⎯Sampo Koski

“And what’s this? A new business venture?”

Of course SAMPO looks at the chimera and sees a business opportunity. Not that he’s planning to sell it, no… this little fella could be the new face of his business. Cold Feet Junior, even. Needless to say, he loves the chimera. Who wouldn’t? Such a precious little treasure from way out there, somewhere not even the great Sampo Koski can get to.

Aside from the chimera now being the face of his business, he brings the thing everywhere like it’s a little chihuahua. It gets pampered to high heaven, with little treats even you have never heard about before. From all sorts of places, from Izumo to Punklorde. You start to wonder if these treats are even good for the chimera, considering just how different these foods must be from the ones back home. The chimera seems fine enough, however.

When he can’t bring the chimera with him, however, he’s the most pathetic man you know. He’ll fake cry, use a voice that is just so tear-jerking, and say a sorrowful goodbye to the chimera. He texts you everyday when he is out, begging for pictures, asking if it's okay, asking if it's eaten… and so on. You, of course, do your best to shower him with pictures of the chimera, assuring him that it’s never been better. To which, he always responds with some sort of keyboard smash (rare for him), and praises going your way, and the chimeras way.

⎯ Jing Yuan

“Hmm…”

JING YUAN could never turn down a gift from you, of course. Especially one so cute. If you hadn’t caught him at such an inopportune time (also known as nap time), perhaps his reaction would be more grand. Or the same, he’s never been one for big expressions. A simple ‘thank you’, a kiss, and something in return has always been his style. However,  this seems like a lot more than just a simple gift. A creature from Amphoreus… and a potential playmate for Mimi.

‘Potentially’ becomes a ‘definitely’ after some socializing. Instead of the chimera attaching itself to Jing Yuan, it’s very, very fond of Mimi. The grimalkin is quite well tempered, if not tolerant. The way the Chimera climbs onto him, like he is a mighty steed and not a proud lion… it’s charming in its own way. And yet, all Mimi does is maybe huff a little, and be on his merry way. Most of the time, he’d do the exact opposite the chimera wanted, by the sound of its annoyed chirps. Perhaps this was his way of playing with such a smaller creature…?

The chimera ultimately finds its spot on the bed. When you and Jing Yuan cuddled up, Mimi took his spot at the end of the bed. The chimera, unsure whether to stick themself at the end of the bed, in between you and Jing Yuan, or just sleep on the floor. Before it decides to exclude itself, Mimi makes the decision for it. With another huff (perhaps irritated that he had to leave his warm spot), he hops down from the bed, grabs the chimera by its scruff (not without it complaining, of course), and hops right back up. When you wake up in the morning, you find the chimera, stuck between Mimi’s paws, with the most content, familiar, smile on its face, while Mimi licks up its cheek repeatedly.

⎯ Blade

“...”

How many more times will this happen? First a cat cake, now a chimera. What’s next? A seal? BLADE really doesn’t know how to react. To be thought of is wonderful, but does it really always have to be in this kind of way? How many more creatures out there look like him? He can only hope you don’t find them for your ‘Blade collection’. Those poor, poor souls…

Regardless of his�� pondering, the gift doesn’t go unappreciated. The chimera and Blade are like two halves of a whole, really. While Blade is sulking, so is the chimera… right next to him. When you adopted it, you swore it was just full of energy. Chirping and chattering to anyone who would listen, chimera, human, chrysos heir, no one was free from its chattering. In truth, you thought it was silly that something that held such a resemblance to such a broody man had such whimsy.

So, to see the little critter suddenly adapt Blade’s sulking and… edge, it’s a little surprising. Or not, if you understood how this tale has gone before. It’s actually kind of cute in its own odd way. When you point out the similarities in personality, all Blade feels he can do is grumble and huff. He should be used to your penchant for finding things that look and act like him by now, but somehow you always manage to surprise him. 

⎯ Luocha

“What an… intriguing gift…”

LUOCHA is never one to turn down your gifts, and he certainly won’t start now. But, despite the worlds he has traveled to and all he’s seen, somehow he’s never seen quite a creature. Perhaps it is the resemblance that throws him off. He doesn’t want to turn down your gift, but where he travels to may not be the safest place for the little Chimera. Very rarely does he stay home long enough to take care of any pet, either. He rationalizes that while it is a little amusing, this must be for you.

And of course he isn’t going to take that kind of companionship from you. It’s actually kind of endearing to him that you went through all this trouble to find a cute little look-alike. He’s more entertained by the way you dote on it, by the way you call it ‘Luo-Luo’ (even though the Chimera seems over it), and he wonders to himself if you truly got this chimera for him, or to have something to coddle while he was away. Not that you coddled him, normally. He isn’t a man to be doted on like that, and you are just too shy to do that to him.

He indulges in the adoption of the chimera, of course. Even when he’s out for months on end, he makes sure to call and check up on the Chimera (and you, but he does that normally). He shouldn’t be so surprised to see all the little outfits you’ve stuck the critter in, from cats (which makes no sense, considering the body of a chimera was a lion), to wolves. He wonders how many people you have commissioned for these little outfits…

⎯ Jiaoqiu

“And this charming little companion is…?”

JIAOQIU truly thought that the Tuskipir would be his only pet. He didn’t really need a service animal outside of the emotional support, considering he had a cane, and he knew the Yaoqing like the back of his hand. You, however, decide that if one critter does well, why won’t two do better? Plus, while the Tuskipir was used for more emotional wellbeing, Chimeras were experienced with work, and when you think about it, they’d make quite the service animals. 

What a shame that he can’t see the resemblance clearly. Still, he is quite touched by the thoughtfulness behind your gift. The chimera warms up to him all too easily, immediately taking its place by his side. Jiaoqiu doesn’t verbally admit it, but being thought of in such a way, especially after a trip that took you across the cosmos warms his heart. Even if he is pretty much completely recovered, it was quite nice to be cared for. Even as a healer.

In truth, as endearing as your gift was, he had expected the chimera to get in his way, under his legs, and become annoying in all sorts of ways. Given how happily it yipped and barked when you first arrived with it, he truly assumed it would be an annoyance. He’s pleasantly surprised that once the chimera has acclimated and settled, it becomes a wonderful companion. Chimera’s stomachs are so strong, you think, watching as Jiaoqiu feeds the critter a particular slice of beef that almost looks red, with the amount of spice he has put in the hotpot broth.

⎯ Moze

“I… Hm.”

It is rare for MOZE to talk without thinking. It is even rarer to interrupt his thoughts all together. You should be impressed with yourself. When met with the gloomy demeanor of the Chimera, Moze can only squint, open his mouth to form words, and ultimately lose them. What is he supposed to say? He’s never had a pet before, the strays in the alleyways who liked his scent were the closest thing to having one. All he really can do is hold the Chimera and stare into those oddly familiar eyes.

There is a quiet camaraderie between the two, once the confusion settles from Moze’s mind. When Moze is home (considering his work is too dangerous for any sort of pet), the two have a tacit, quiet understanding that you can’t quite… get. The Chimera follows Moze around, at a distance, and studies him closely, as if trying to commit his movements to memory. You swear, at some point, you heard Moze say ‘this is how you sweep’. When you walked in the room to check, the two were quiet as can be, while Moze was sweeping the kitchen floor, the Chimera perched on the counter.

When Moze is out, the Chimera sits by the door, or in the living room, or sometimes sleeps in his spot on the bed while waiting for him. It’s almost kind of heartbreaking when you think about it, knowing Moze is gone for most of the week. At the very least, it seems the Chimera is much, much more receptive to cuddles than your dear lover is. As much as it seems to miss its twin, it can’t resist curling up in your arms and taking a nap. It seems that the Chimera catches up on sleep in Moze’s place.

⎯ Mydeimos

“Hmph.”

MYDEI refuses to acknowledge the similarity. He pouts, sighs, and does his best to walk off and ignore the furry little companion you had brought home. The chimera trots after Mydei regardless, happy as can be, even if the man was ignoring it. You had to commend him, really. If you had something that cute following you around, you would fold immediately. But Mydei was stronger than you (and much, much more stubborn).

When Mydeimos wasn’t home, the chimera took up all his spots, short of the one in the kitchen. It’d sit in his chair at the table, enjoy the warmth of the private bath, and even take his spot on the bed. Which, Mydei truly doesn’t appreciate. Some days he is out from dawn till dusk, but he has always made it a point to come back home just before you fall asleep, so the two of you could sleep together. So to find you curled up with this little rascal, who was oh so happy to take his place, he doesn’t know what to feel.

He’s not jealous. No, no, he swears he isn’t. Why would he be jealous of a chimera? How silly. Despite that, you notice how he’s suddenly in much more of a rush to see you on the days that he is gone. He tries to beat the chimera to the bed, establishes his dominance in the kitchen (as if anyone could beat him), and makes it known– well.. you don’t know what he’s trying to prove to a chimera of all things. But it’s quite funny watching him try to one-up the creature, who was simply acting oblivious. Everytime you pet the chimera or praise it, you can always hear Mydei sigh. It’s not that he was neglecting the chimera in any way, not, he just had to one-up it. Almost every time he could.

⎯ Phainon

“Aha… Do I really look like this thing…?”

You are the third person to tell PHAINON a certain chimera looks like him. It worries him a little. Does he, a truly fearsome warrior that totally doesn’t have the air of a puppy, look like such a cute little creature? Looking into the chimera’s eyes, which are practically shining, he can’t help but concede… only for you, though. 

The very first thing this chimera does is challenge Phainon himself. To his surprise (and dismay), the chimera starts to take all his favorite spots.  Right by your legs, on your chest when you're sleeping, or when you're just laying down, and even in the baths. You find it cute, but Phainon… he’s not one to turn down a challenge, even if it’s initiated by a chimera. He takes every chance he can get to sweep you up off your feet and carry you off somewhere the chimera can only watch, like the hot baths.

While you find this kind of charming, if not funny, you can't help but feel bad for the chimera. When you show even the smallest amount of pity for it, however, Phainon decides its time to switch tactics. Instead of taking everything the Chimera did as a challenge, now it was a battle of charm. Anytime the Chimera begs for food (within his proximity), he rests his chin on your shoulder and tries to snatch the food from you. If the Chimera is sleeping on your lap, he makes an effort to also try and lay his head in your lap, and always, always, looks up at you with those pretty blues. You have to admit it's cute, but kind of pathetic. Not that you would ever want him to change.

⎯ Anaxagoras

“Hmph. But it is no Dromas.”

You, of course, know about ANAXA’s love for Dromases more than anything. You were one of the few who were graced by him and his magnificent onesie’s presence, after all. But, still, when you saw the little chimera, with its muted green coat and its missing eye, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Perhaps he is truly amused at the fact that you have found his doppelganger? Or maybe he’s finally figured out where one of his eyepatches has finally gone… either way, his tone is hard to read.

It is not long until you notice how he dotes on the chimera… in his own way, at least. He doesn’t outright ignore the critter when it toddles behind him, and on more than one occasion you have caught him talking to it, prattling on about his theories while he cleans his gun. Despite acting annoyed that you had taken one of his eyepatches for a ‘silly little costume’, he does not attempt to remove it. Not once. You take this as a victory, of course.

The real kicker is when you caught him sewing a Dromas onesie for the Chimera. His hands aren’t the steadiest, but he sits so quietly (for once), all while the Chimera lays curled up right next to his legs. You don’t mean to stare for too long, but he ends up catching you. Instead of acting shy (Which, he never did), and brushing you off, he only huffs softly, and shakes his head, before going back to his sewing. You read this as an invitation to properly watch, and when you step into the room, he doesn’t complain.

© freyito, 2025 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS

[illbegottenfaith]

world-endingly, soul-crushingly awful (a so alright, cool, whatever inspired fic)

theo doesn't realise this is NOT how best friends normally feel (bsf!theo nott x reader)

a/n - I was kind of double-minded about writing them as enemies or best friends but I decided to go for something Ive written less of so :)) this is one of my sillier ideas that I came up with on a whim but idk idk its just cute adjhcfsjdlc

tropes/warnings - bsf!theo, fluff, oblivious theo, someone hit him over the head with a frying pan level of oblivious, crack/comedy fic (very mildly tho)

word count - 2.8k

taglist - @kandralice @justme989898 @iamheretoread1234 @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf @user089167

“You’re gonna have to send me an owl the second you reach,” Theo said, folding one of your sweaters.

“You act like Ilvermorny is on another planet,” you teased, nudging his shoulder with yours. You tossed the folded sweater onto a pile of other clothes on your trunk. “It’s just America.”

Mattheo, sprawled on your bed, scoffed audibly.

“Just America, she says,” Mattheo muttered to Ivy, who sat cross-legged beside him. “As if that’s not an entire ocean away.”

Ivy, who had been observing Theo with sharp, knowing eyes, only sighed.

“It’s great though, isn't it? That she’s going? I mean, six months is practically nothing.”

Mattheo grunted. “Yeah. Practically nothing.” His tone made it very clear that six months was hardly nothing.

Theo, as usual, didn’t seem to pick up on any of the loaded implications lacing their words. He simply nodded, entirely absorbed in folding a long-sleeved shirt of yours.

“Yeah, it’s great. She’s been wanting this for ages.”

Ivy gave Mattheo a desperate look. He scoffed exasperatedly.

Theo had always been a quiet sort of stubborn - and not just the wilful kind. Oftentimes, he could be so utterly unaware of his own emotions that trying to drag them out would be like trying to wrought blood from a stone. But even this was stretching it.

For as long as you and Theo had been friends, it had been apparent to everyone but the two of you that there was something just a little too intense about the way you gravitated toward each other. Your conversations always held a rhythm no one else could quite fall into, one which had the two of you joined at the hip for years.

Since you were in your fifth year, it had been your dream to attend a six-month student exchange program with Ilvermony. With all the effort you had poured into your application, your acceptance came to the surprise of no one but you. Naturally, your friends were plenty happy for you, but Theo was positively ecstatic. Hardly the excitable type, Mattheo had never seen him smile that wide. Every moment since, he had been swept up in helping you prepare for your visit.

One unfortunate detail was that the exchange program spanned your final semester at Hogwarts. That was, the next time anyone would be seeing you would be at graduation. Your friends had expected him to take the news hard. After all, it wasn't every day that one of your closest friends moved halfway across the world. But he didn't. Theo had been surprisingly calm as he helped you coordinate your preparation efforts with a readiness that was hard to fake.

But that was no matter. With how involved Theo was in helping you plan your visit, the realisation would have to kick in eventually. And when it did, they would be ready to comfort him with open arms.

It was now a week away from your departure. Theo still hadn't shed a tear or said a word about how he really felt about you leaving. Your friends had spent months trying to hint to him to confess his feelings - an impossible task when he didn't seem to even be aware of them.

Mattheo swore he had tried whispering to Theo in his sleep for a couple of nights, trying to lull him with some kind of subliminal messaging, but to no avail. All he got was some bleary-eyed swearing and a pillow to the face. But that was beyond the point: desperate times called for desperate measures, and there was nothing more desperate than an intervention.

Ivy and Mattheo walked into the Slytherin common room, where Theo was flipping through a book. Next to him sat a pile of your woollens that he had been darning over the past couple of days.

Ivy elbowed Mattheo in the ribs. After some not-so-subtle glaring from her, Mattheo grudgingly asked Theo about them. From there, the conversation easily shifted to your upcoming trip. As always, Theo's voice was smooth and pleasant, as if he really couldn't be happier for you.

“Theo,” Ivy began, voice full of forced patience, “isn’t there anything you’d like to say to Y/N before she leaves?”

Theo hesitated.

“… goodbye?”

Mattheo let out a long-suffering groan.

“She’s leaving the country. The goodbye is implicit.”

Theo glanced up from his book, brow furrowed.

“Erm, okay. Have a safe trip, then?”

Ivy exchanged a pointed look with Mattheo.

“No, no. Not exactly something so...generic. Something important. Something meaningful.”

"Oh." Theo looked away from intensely scrutinising Ivy's face, his eyes dropping back to his book. "Yeah. Probably. Maybe."

"Yeah?" Ivy perked up. This had been surprisingly easy. "Like what?"

Theo thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“Dunno. Something like…you’ll be the only ever one none before you ever were. I knew you before I knew the kind of person I wanted to be. And it's a sad thing to see your favourite person leave.”

Silence.

Ivy blinked. Mattheo’s mouth fell open slightly.

“...what the fuck, mate,” Mattheo breathed.

Theo frowned. “What?”

Ivy inhaled deeply.

“Theodore. Do you think that’s a...how shall I put this - a normal thing to say about a friend?”

Theo blinked.

“I mean… yeah?”

Mattheo let out an incredulous laugh. “No. No, it’s not.”

"Let me put it this way," Ivy said. "That's the kind of thing someone might say about a partner."

"She is my partner," Theo agreed. "Partner in crime, if you will. That, and we take Potions together."

"No, as in, like a - like a romantic partner."

Theo looked between the pair, as if he was only just starting to piece together the purpose of their visit. His lips twitched.

“Let me guess. You think I’m in love with her?”

Mattheo and Ivy exchanged glances. He crossed his arms.

“Yeah, actually. We do.”

Theo scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “That’s rich.”

Ivy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Theo - ”

“No, really,” Theo cut in, still visibly amused. “That’s what this is about? You two are acting like I’m about to throw myself off the Astronomy Tower over this trip, because you think I’m in love with her?”

Mattheo narrowed his eyes. “You are upset she’s leaving.”

Theo shrugged. “I mean, sure, I’ll miss her. We'll all miss her. That’s normal.”

“Right,” Ivy said slowly, “because you’re been so normal about this."

"Haven't I?"

"You tell us, Theo. You’ve spent the last week hovering over her like a personal secretary, helping her pack, making sure she’s got every little thing - ”

“That’s called being a good friend!”

Mattheo groaned, visibly resisting the urge to thump the realisation into Theo.

“Okay. How about this - what if she started writing to some bloke at Ilvermorny instead of you?”

Theo raised an eyebrow. “She wouldn't.”

“But if she did?”

"But she wouldn't."

Theo opened his mouth, presumably to go on about what a ridiculous notion it was - then stopped. Paused. As though he was considering it. Ivy, who had been watching him testily, zeroed in on it.

“What?”

He remained silent.

"Answer the question, Nott."

Finally, Theo shook his head.

"Nothing. It'd be weird, that’s all.”

Mattheo and Ivy exchanged a knowing look.

“Right. Weird. Not world-endingly, soul-crushingly awful or anything,” Mattheo said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Theo scoffed. “Oh, come off it. Just because I don’t want to lose my best friend to some random American - ”

“You don’t want to lose her,” Ivy echoed.

Theo frowned. “Obviously not.”

Ivy leaned in slightly, voice gentler now.

“Do you ever think about her with someone else?”

Theo hesitated. His fingers curled against his knee.

Ivy tilted her head. “Do you ever imagine it?”

His mind betrayed him instantly, shaping out a scene that had yet to happen - you, laughing at someone else’s joke, standing too close to someone else, snaking your hand down to someone else's for warmth -

He shut it down. He huffed.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

"Sure, it doesn’t.”

Theo folded his arms.

“Fine. So I...like her. So what? You lot are acting like I’m going to be hopelessly lovesick with her gone.”

"Give it a week."

"Mattheo..."

"What? You know it's true."

Ivy shook her head, watching Theo’s expression closely.

“All we're saying is, you don’t have to say it’s love. But if it was, would it really be that surprising? Would it be the worst thing in the world, being in love with your best friend?”

Theo didn't know what to say. The longer he thought about it, the more horrifyingly obvious it became.

He thought about how his whole day felt off if he didn’t see you. How he understood your expressions like the back of his hand. How he noticed things about you that no one else did, like the way you drummed your fingers when you were thinking, or how you never remembered to bring a jacket, or how you always smelled like the same bloody soap.

And how his stomach twisted when he thought of you with someone that wasn't him.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Now that Theo had come to terms with it - now that he’d processed that yes, fine, maybe he was a little bit in love with you - he had a new problem.

He had no idea how to tell you.

Not for a lack of trying, bless him.

“I need to tell you something,” he said at breakfast one morning, voice entirely too serious for that time of day.

You blinked, mid-bite.

“Alright…?”

Theo inhaled. He could do this. He could so do this. He could totally be normal about this. He could.

“You should bring a raincoat.”

You frowned. “What?”

“For America,” he said quickly. “I read somewhere that Ilvermorny gets a lot of rain.”

You stared at him for a long second.

“You’re being weird.”

Theo sighed. “Forget it.”

He tried again a few days later, in the evening, when you were packing. He hovered awkwardly near your bed as you arranged your folded shirts in your trunk.

“You know,” he said, “there’s something I don’t think I’ve ever properly said to you.”

You grunted, continuing your attempt to compress a stack of shirts into the corner of your trunk. “Go on.”

Theo swallowed. His palms felt unreasonably clammy.

“I - ”

Say it. Just say it.

“I really think you should take that book on magical theory,” he blurted out instead.

Panting, you emerged from your trunk. You squinted up at him.

“Theo. I hate that book.”

“Oh. Right.”

You held out your hand. Like clockwork, Theo obliged, bending until his sticky forehead met the cool back of your hand.

"Warm, but not feverish," you concluded. He straightened. You were looking at him funny, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Is there another reason why you haven't been making much sense these past few days?"

Theo laughed weakly. "Sorry. Don't know what came over me."

You didn't look convinced. “Are you sure you're alright?”

Theo swallowed, a lump in his throat.

“Yeah. Great. Never been better.”

His last attempt came when you were going over your packing list one last time, just a couple of days before your departure.

“You know,” he tried again, as you tapped your quill down the list, “I’ll probably miss you.”

You looked up and gave a brief smile. Theo ached with the misery that he would be losing it soon. “I’ll miss you too.”

Emboldened, he pressed on.

“And I think, uh, you’ve been - you are… different. Special.”

You nodded, like that was a perfectly normal thing to say.

“You too.”

Theo exhaled in relief. Maybe that was enough. Maybe that was -

“That’s what best friends are for, right?”

Theo froze.

A short scuffle sounded at the door. Mattheo, who had been eavesdropping, had hit his head on a particularly low beam.

“Merlin’s fucking beard.”

It was too late.

The platform was filled with a mist of steam and goodbyes. Your farewell party was only a foot away from the train doors. You were standing in front of him, hair littered with some stray confetti from your send-off, seconds away from boarding that train and leaving his life forever. Well, maybe not forever, but too long to ever recover from.

As you pulled him in for a last hug, Theo realised, this was it. This was what years of friendship was boiling down to. Did you even have any lasting impact on his life? Or years from now, would you unwillingly flit across his mind on the darkest, rainiest nights, a shadow of a memory of someone he knew way back when?

He wanted to tell you - really he did. But he had failed. It was all so frustratingly futile, wasn't it? He should’ve said something sooner. He should’ve made you understand. Now he had no one to blame but himself.

His grip on you tightened almost uncomfortably. You laughed, squirming in his hold, thinking it was one last inside joke for the two of you.

"Goodbye," he choked out. "Safe travels. Write, won't you?"

"'Course," you said. Or at least, tried to say through a mouthful of Theo's sweater.

As he finally pulled away, the words slipped from his lips

“You’ve ruined me, you know.”

The chatter on the platform seemed to quiet. All that Theo was aware of was the ceaseless churning of the crowds around you, the blood roaring in his ears and the curious little cleft that had appeared between your eyebrows. Ivy’s eyes widened. Mattheo held his breath.

You blinked.

“...what?”

"What?" Theo repeated back with an air of polite interest, feigning innocence.

"That thing you just said."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I've...I've what?"

Theo made a show of checking his watch as he stooped, reaching for your trunk. "You're going to miss your train."

To everyone's surprise, you yanked your trunk out of his reach. You stayed rooted in place, unmoving to Theo's attempts to cajole you onto the train.

"Nott, you tell me what you said right this instant or I'll - I'll cry. I swear, I'll start bawling on this platform in a minute if you don't hurry up and s-"

Theo’s stomach dropped.

"No, no, don't do that," he said hurriedly. “I - I just meant - ” He cast his eyes around frantically. Ivy and Mattheo were absolutely no help. “You’re, um. You’re different.”

You gave him a blank look. “Yeah. So?”

“No, I mean - really different.”

You nodded. “So are you.”

“No, but - you’re - ” He ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, it’s - ”

“This is painful to watch,” Mattheo muttered.

Ivy ignored him. “What's it going to take for him to just say it already?”

Theo exhaled sharply, forcing himself to look you in the eye.

“You’re not just my best friend. I don't think you ever have been.”

You were silent for a moment, face impassive, as if deciding how to respond.

"Teddy, that's crazy talk."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, what's so crazy about it?"

"We're friends. This is just what friends do, it's normal."

Theo laughed. It was entirely inappropriate for the situation, and you frowning at him s=certainly wasn't but now that most of his nervous energy had evaporated, it was as though he couldn't bring himself to stop.

"No," he said, in a strained voice. "This isn't normal for friends. Trust me, I should know."

You looked unimpressed.

"'Cause," he continued, still chuckling weakly, "if we're only friends, why does this feel so world-endingly, soul-crushingly awful?"

The steely look in your eye faded.

"I mean," you mumbled, looking a lot less certain now. "You're my favourite friend. Sue me."

But even as your lips formed the words, Theo could see the realisation clouding over your eyes. You tilted your head.

"More than friends," you breathed.

Theo watched you uncertainly test how the words felt on your tongue.

"Yeah."

You shook your head.

"I can't believe you figured it out before me."

A corner of Theo's lip quirked upwards.

"Told you. I'm always one step ahead of you."

"Ivy put you up to this, didn't she?"

Theo grinned, and you responded in the same, infectious grin that he had. Your favourite, infectious grin.

"So, now what do we do?"

Theo held out his hand. You took it. It was the first time the familiar action registered as anything other than platonic in his head.

"I think," Theo said, "you have a train to catch."

[natalicss]

Like We Were In Paris

kwon ji-yong x american pop star!reader

part two

summary: you and ji-yong have been dating for a couple years, keeping it under the radar the entire time. you’re both invited to the gala de pièces juanes 2025, and it’s the first time you get to see him perform live

warnings: not proofread at all, celeb!reader, implied age gap (reader is like…mid twenties?), whole lot of fluff, basically ji-yong being a simp, taeyang & rosé being captains of the ship, use of y/n, i don’t use tumblr so bare with me while i figure this out. i tried to keep descriptions of the readers outfit vague so you could imagine it to your liking!

word count: 4.1K

nat’s notes: hey y’all! i was convinced into writing a g-dragon fic (by like 3 people). i’m kinda obsessed with this. i had so many ideas while writing it & so im kind of tempted to write more of these two, but i don’t know!! this is my first like… irl person x reader (ive only written one other fic on here lmao) & i am new to g-dragon, bigbang, all that so i kept it pretty current. to me these two are very dancing with our hands tied by taylor swift coded (or just reputation coded), i cant explain why it just makes sense. the divider right below is from enchanthings here on tumblr, and the other one later on….idk its for my wattpad LMAO. anyways i hope you enjoy, and im sorry in advance if you hate it. toodles!

You still remember the first time you met Ji-yong.

You were in need of some inspiration. Working on your fourth album, the intense gaze of your record label, your management, your fans, and your musically gifted peers was crushing you. It seemed to do more harm than good. For weeks, you stared at notebooks and computers and instruments. Your manager tried to get you with various song writers. Nothing worked. So, after some persuasion from your best friend (who knew you better than anyone, having been your best friend since you were kids), you decided to do a vacation. Just you and some required security (per compromise with your team). You decided to go to Seoul, having loved it in the few times you’ve passed through on a tour. The fans there were great; always warm and welcoming and always one of your loudest shows. The culture was breathtaking. It felt like the perfect opportunity.

Your team had found a studio for you to work in. You were only there for a few weeks, but they wanted some hope that you’d come back to America with something. It was week two when you met him. You were walking towards your studio, he was walking out of his. The two of you made eye contact, and you were instantly swarmed with warmth. You didn’t believe in love at first sight (neither did he, to be fair), but you started to question it as you walked past him.

From then on, each of you seemed nosy about the other. He asked his friends who the girl was in the other studio. “Oh! The American! That’s Y/N,” He recognized your name, and now your face. He hadn’t seen you outside of a red carpet or a concert venue photo, so he didn’t recognize you with little-to-no makeup and comfortable clothes. But once it clicked, it clicked. You had asked someone working at the studio about him. They mentioned his name, Kwon Ji-Yong, and you googled him that night in your rental house.

You knew about G-Dragon, the impact he had on K-Pop and the music industry. You had heard a song here and there, but you had never seen him. Not til that day in the studio.

It was a few days until you saw him again. Your schedules just missing each other. Then, one day, your producer was running freakishly late to your meeting time, and Ji-yong was walking out of his own studio. You stood there, more like paced there, tapping wildly on your phone trying to get in contact with your producer, whispering to yourself in frustration.

Ji-yong had the courage to speak up, say hello, and the rest is history. Stories for another time, maybe. 

Your friendship eventually blossomed into a relationship, defying all cliches of long distance and the terrors that often comes with it. It helped that he was on hiatus and you had became a professional of staying out of the public eye. You both wanted to keep what you had to yourself. Your teams did, too, but they got less strict as two months eventually became two years. It was on your terms now, when you'd let everyone know about your status, but neither of you had felt ready to let the world in on something so…yours. So peaceful, so effortless, so pure. It was easy, the two of you traveling between South Korea and America to spend time together, or going on vacations together, or just taking quiet retreats into each others homes. 

Nobody ever thought of it, either. There was no reason to. Unless they’d been in the studio that day, the media had no way to expect any crossover of America’s Princess and the King of K-Pop. The media would rather gossip about you in relationships with the usual Hollywood celebrities, some of whom were just friends, some you’d never met. Neither of you mind rumors, it kept the media out of your relationship and sometimes they were hilariously ridiculous. So, you let the press talk their talk. You and Ji-yong kept to yourselves, careful on your information you’d share with friends (it was easy for things to be leaked, these days).

When Ji-yong told you he was officially making his comeback to the industry, you were ecstatic for him. You knew how much he loved making music and performing. You also knew, though he’d never admit it, sometimes when he’d sneak to join you on tour, he got a bit jealous watching you sing and dance on stage. He’d watched you collab with numerous artists, tasting just about every genre you could before eventually finding your new sound. It made him sad, some nights, missing that glow you often had instead. But most nights? Most nights he was beaming from behind the stage, watching you do what you loved most. Most people sink in this world, but you? You swam, no, you effortlessly floated in the sea of fame. And it was obvious to anyone around you. Part of what he loved most about you was your creative drive, something he shared. It inspired him, more than you’d ever know. 

Ji-yong's comeback had been more than successful, as expected. Throughout your relationship, the two of you had fumbled with varying songs and styles for each other. Oftentimes more playful than not. You guys fueled each other in the best ways. You released your newest album in 2024, and you were about to start your world tour in the early months of 2025. Ji-yong would follow suit, his first solo album in years coming out soon and then starting his own tour. 

Both of you were wracked with nerves, spending days in rehearsals, wardrobe tests, photo shoots, traveling all over for various projects. It had been weeks since you’d seen each other. After the holidays you were swimming in press for your new tour. He had been equally busy, filming his show, performing at various shows. You both loved it. You loved your jobs and you loved each others jobs. But even you two would struggle on the days where it’d been long, exhausting, and mentally draining; wanting nothing more than each other’s warmth.

The Gala des Pièces Jaunes, a show that helps collect donations for charity in Paris, had invited both of you to perform, along with other various stars. Little did they know, they had invited the world's most popular secret couple. You had been ecstatic. Not only did you love the message the event had, but you loved the idea of sharing the stage with so many extremely talented artists. Including, your boyfriend. 

The night before the show, you had inconspicuously snuck your way towards Ji-yong’s room. You had wanted to get a hotel room together, but knew that you had to be careful with the amount of eyes on both of you this weekend. Still, that didn’t stop you from wondering around until you ended up at his door. With your special knock– each knock a syllable in your names –you waited patiently for him to open up the door to you. His eyes were sparkly, even in the shitty lighting. They always seemed to do that with you. 

“Finally,” He breathed, pulling you into the room quickly. You giggled as he used your body to shut the door, his arms around you tightly. You had seen each other, earlier in the day during rehearsals. Pretending like it was your first time meeting him and Taeyang was hell. Pretending you didn’t know their names, pretending Ji-yong didn’t pick out your outfit on FaceTime, and pretending you didn’t want to latch on to him and never let go. 

The only people who knew about you two were Young-bae, of course. He and Daesung had known about you for a while now, teasing their friend and bandmate for not telling them right away. The other person was Rosé, who’d been your friend for years and one of your closest friends in the celebrity world, both of you having blown up in popularity around the same time. Both of them seemed equally amused, watching you and Ji-yong try to act nonchalant around the other. Young-bae chuckling as Ji-yong watched your rehearsals in a stunned silence. He knew every song of yours by heart (even the ones from before he met you), and even when trying to act like he didn’t he could feel himself mouthing the words as he watched you and your dancers on the stage. Rosé would wink at you when she’d walk past you, and everytime you almost missed it cause you were too busy watching Ji-yong talking with his team.

But now, the two of you didn’t have to act. You couldn’t stop laughing in awe, Ji-yong smothering your face in feather-light kisses. You held on to him, your face turning pink as he continued his full-blown kiss attack. “I missed you, jagiya, so much.” He muttered against your skin. Finally, he pulled back to look over your face, pressing another kiss to your lips. You melted into his arms, your mind momentarily fuzzy. There was nothing else but him. His hands on your waist, his shirt clutched in your hands, his scent that had became your favorite. Him. Him. Him. It was always him. 

“I missed you more,” You whispered, running your fingers through his minty-colored hair. He closed his eyes softly, as if soaking in your touch. Your heart swelled, as it always seemed to do with him. You had never felt this way, not in any of your previous relationships. You had been positive for a while now, Ji-yong was it for you. “Are you excited?” You asked him, tilting your head in curiosity.

He slowly opened his eyes, meeting your soft expression. He loved how you looked at him. It was something you couldn’t hide, not even at rehearsals. He sighed, pulling you by your hand further into the hotel room. “Yes. Nervous, too.” He added. You nod in understanding, he had only performed a few times since the comeback. He loved it after, always, but the nerves had been hard to shake off, even still.

“I’m excited to see you,” You beam, still keeping your fingers interlocked. You hadn’t seen him live, not yet. You had been back in America finishing up your album and starting a press tour at the time, but you always called him right before he went on to give him a final good luck, and you always snuck onto a live stream to watch. 

He rolled his eyes shyly, leaning his head into your neck. “Young-bae is going to make so much fun of me.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’m more nervous for you to see my performance than I was at MAMA.” 

You laughed at that, bringing his face into your hands and looking at him. “You’re going to be amazing. More than amazing. You’re going to be perfect.” You reassure him, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. “And I am not afraid to bully Young-bae,” He laughed at this, throwing his head back slightly. He knew it was true, your friendship with Taeyang almost too sibling-like, to the point you two teased each other about everything. 

“Are you nervous at all?” He asks you, looking over your expression, as if he’s trying to find your answer in your gaze. He did this a lot, knowing you for so long he began to pick up on things, even before you did.

“I am, but only a little,” You decide finally. It was a short set, only a few songs to perform. You had picked your most popular hits and your newest single for the setlist. And your outfit was your favorite part, matching your dancers whilst still making sure you stood out and felt confident. “Oh! I have to tell you about this thing I saw.” You pulled out of his arms, suddenly distracted by something you wanted to tell him about when you were in your room. 

Ji-yong watched you quietly. His eyes filled with a lightness and admiration. He listened to you talk as you grabbed a water, waving your arms wildly to dramatize the story. He smiled, leaning against the couch in his room as he thought about how much he loved you. He loved everything about you. From the way you talked about your passions to the way you scrunched your face when you ate something you didn’t like. He loved the way you danced in the car when your favorite song came on. He loved the way you loved the people around you. He loved the way you waltzed into his heart like it was your home, and wrapped your arms around him like you were his home. You are his home, he’s sure of that. Even now, as you ramble into near nonsense about something he has no understanding of. He still watched you like you had been the most beautiful work of art he’d discovered. He was certain that was true.

Le Gala des Pièces was in full swing. Everything was going well, perfect, all of it. And you were backstage, getting your makeup touched up as you saw someone walk past your open door. You recognized him instantly, you always did. And part of you couldn’t let him go on stage without a final goodbye.  “I’ll be right back!” You pushed yourself out of your chair, rushing after him. You could see him walking through the hall, too busy with his own thoughts to notice you coming to grab his wrist.

Ji-yong felt your touch, his head moving so fast he swore he heard a crack. His eyes met yours instantly, then looked you over in surprise. He hadn’t seen your outfit yet. It complimented his, something he wasn’t sure if you had done on purpose or not. A black and red outfit, the red the exact same shade as his tie. As he looked you over, you could see the different emotions flicker on his face. Admiration, lust, maybe hunger, and love. He looked up at your face again, smiling, “Hi, Y/N,” His name feels unfamiliar on his tongue, now. Over the years, nicknames had become your normal. Another thing to add to the list of things you hated about pretending you didn’t know him.

Your mouth hung open for a moment as you looked at him. You hadn’t been sure if you’d see him before he went on, so you hadn’t exactly planned your choice of words. “I wanted to wish you luck,” You stuttered out, suddenly aware of how many eyes could be on the two of you.

Ji-yong’s eyes were laced with amusement, seeing your cheeks turned pink. “I have to grab something to drink, come with me?” He asked, playing it as cool and casual as humanly possible. You itched to reach for his hand, but kept to yourself as you followed him. 

As soon as you were in a dark corner, away from prying eyes, he was on you. The two of you pressed your lips together like perfect puzzle pieces. Your hands roamed his chest as his roamed your waist. You hummed happily, wishing this moment with him would never end. Adrenaline, nerves, excitement all were running high. From the show, from being around each other, from sneaking around. You felt his hands squeeze your hips, the two of you forcing yourselves to pull away. You smiled up at him, almost dizzy from him simply being in front of you. “Good luck,” You beamed.

“Is that how you wish everybody good luck?” He asks playfully. You rolled your eyes, smacking his chest as you adjusted yourselves. “I’ll see you as soon as I’m done,” He leans to kiss you again, “I love you,”

“I love you more,” You winked as he sauntered off towards where his team was waiting for him. You stayed back a moment, blushing wildly and hopping in place happily before rushing back to your own people.

You watched from backstage, wrapping yourself in a black robe to hide yourself as much as you could from the crew around you. You had passed Taeyang, who gave you a subtle handshake as he passed by for his cue. You watched in awe, seeing Ji-yong, no, G-Dragon on that stage. Seeing him do it all in person…it was ethereal. The way he moved through the stage and carried himself with this aura. He was almost mesmerizing, distracting you from the chaos backstage and your own nerves. It didn’t shock you, you’d known forever how talented he was. You’d seen videos of him from before you met, you’d seen him work for hours upon hours in studios, and you’d seen him on set for his music videos. But this was different. This was really him. This was what he was born to do, if destiny and fate were real. This was exactly that.

“Hey, pretty,” You turned your head to Rosé, Rosie, who only smiled knowingly. She linked her arm with yours, leaning into you. “You happy?”

“Happiest,” You answered, “He’s so good.”

“He is.” Rosie agreed. She giggled at your face. The two of you had met years ago, you had blown up in the music scene shortly after Blackpink. The two of you crossed paths at an event, not knowing anyone else there, and you two stuck by each others sides much like you were now. You two had been closest friends. When you told her about your first date with Ji-yong, she was ecstatic. She knew Ji-yong, and she knew that he’d be good to you. She wanted you to be happy, and that's what you were. Always when it came to Ji-yong, you were the happiest person she'd seen.

You watched the rest of his set. You smiled giddily as he and Taeyang performed together. You bit your thumb nail as you watched him move around the stage in the second outfit with the sparkling black jacket. Rosie nudging you every time she noticed you blush. 

When he was off the stage, he had found you waiting for him amidst the crowd of people. He smiled happily, reaching you without much thought about anyone else. His arms swooped you in, hugging you tightly. You laughed, hugging him back. “That was amazing!” You beamed. For a moment, the two of you forgot where you were. Forgetting the curious eyes who thought you barely knew each other. When your senses kicked in, he was quick to put you back at a friendly distance. Your gaze moved to Taeyang, “You guys are phenomenal!” You hugged Young-bae too, hoping that if you acted friendly with everyone it wouldn’t cause more suspicion. “Thank you,” Ji-yong muttered, suddenly shy again. He bowed quickly at you, trying to play it off. In moments, you were hearing your name called, and his own team was surrounding him. You smiled warmly, disappearing in the crowd of crew and stars. 

Ji-yong wanted to keep close to you. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms until the very moment you were on stage, but that was impossible. You were back in your greenroom, getting makeup and hair touched up, and then you were taking photos with crew members and doing more vocal warm ups. You were being whisked around every which way. He and Young-bae were staying close together, feeling the most comfortable with each other as they simply watched the show continue.

Young-bae was smiling to himself. He had been so happy for Ji-yong when he introduced you to him and Daesung. It was blatantly obvious to see how happy you made him. You made Ji-yong smile at every moment, you'd giggle at his jokes (even if Young-bae didn't think they were that funny), you would help him if you noticed his hesitation. You encouraged him. You built him up. You even started secretly learning Korean, calling Young-bae for help every now and again. The next time you visited Ji-yong, you had managed to say your first sentence in Korean, and it was actually good. You were this ray of sunshine. Anyone who knew the two of you knew that. He was honored to be in on your guys’s little secret. Otherwise, he’d feel cheated out of watching two people he cared about falling in love. 

Unfortunately, Ji-yong didn’t get a chance to see you before you were whisked away under the stage to make your entrance. Still, he watched quietly from backstage. He clasped his hands together, watching the crowd scream with anticipation as your intro started. Fog began to cover the stage, the lights flashing every which way with the music. Your dancers surrounded the area you’d rise from. Once you did, you immediately went into the first song, dancing on every note. The crowd was wild. Ji-yong smiled proudly. On stage you were someone else entirely. You were confident, you moved with ease and exact precision. Your body moved with your dancers, most you’ve known for years. Their hands grazing your hips as you all moved together in sync. Ji-yong never got jealous, knowing how these things worked. He was no stranger to any of it. 

He’d seen you perform, maybe a hundred times now, and yet it never got old. As the song transitioned to another popular track, the crowd somehow getting even louder, he thought about how you might’ve looked earlier. Standing in the same spot, only a short time ago. He could only assume you looked much like he did now. Body swaying to the familiar music, mouthing the words, eyes sparkling at him like he had hung the moon and the stars only for you. He wasn’t sure what he did to get so lucky.

He clapped as the crowd did. You were at the far end of the stage now, dancing with another male dancer to the third song. The song had been written for him, though not many people knew that other than you and him. A romantically charged song. It was one of his favorites. He remembered the day you showed it to him, all shy and quiet, which was unusual for you. You had told him you had a song to show him, wanting to release it as a single in the future. When you played it, you only stared at his face while he stared at the computer screen. He considered marrying you right there. 

As you performed your fourth and final song, he found his way to where you’d end up off stage. He played with his sleeves, smiling shyly as people greeted him as they passed by. He wanted to see you. No, he needed to see you. 

And he did. You came off the stage, glistening from glitter and sweat. You hugged your dancers and thanked them, high-fiving other members of your crew. As your eyes met his, he could see them light up. But you stayed put, not wanting to make another scene. He winked at you, moving in the direction of your greenroom.

It took you a couple minutes to get your micpack off and head towards your dressing room to change. Once you did, you smiled wide at the man waiting inside. “We did it!” You beamed as you jumped at him. He caught you easily, swinging you loosely in his arms as you pressed your lips against his. It wasn’t rushed or adrenaline-filled like before. This was softer, still full of energy, but only relief, love, and pure joy. “We fucking nailed it, baby,” You said as you looked up at him. He swore he might die from the way you love him.

“You were beautiful,” He hummed, leaning into your hair. He hummed, squeezing you tighter. “I love you. So fucking much.”

You closed your eyes, taking in the moment as best as you could. There was no place on this planet you loved more than being in his embrace. You could be anywhere, at any time, anything could be happening, and all you’d want is him. That’s all you’d ever need, The lazy mornings in your LA home where you’d surprise him with breakfast in bed. The romantic nights in Seoul where he’d take you out to dinner at your favorite place. The bustling mornings when one of you had a meeting to get to. One of you having a mouth full of toast trying to run out the door, only to scramble back to give the other a kiss. Late nights in studios, falling asleep in random spots as you tried to come up with new lyrics and beats. Your favorites were the quiet nights, the two of you tangled in bed sheets as he stared at each other, talking about whatever came to mind as one of you played with the others hair, or traced shapes on bare skin. Gentle kisses passed back and forth. Life was perfect, and he was perfect. 

“I love you, Ji,” You whispered, kissing him again. He hummed into it, smiling. You looked him over appreciatively, fiddling with his outfit. “I need to change, wanna pick my outfit out for me?” You asked, raising a brow. His eyes flicked with mischief as he looked back at the rack of clothes you had. He looked back at you, pulling you back into him again.

[yoitsjay]

Hey I absolutely LOVE you…….(r) writing style. Do/Can you make a fic about what makes BatBoys feel like “home” with reader? Like relationship wise. If this doesn’t make sense I’m sorry, this m first time making a request 😭✌️. Ty's!

No it makes sense! Thank you for the request!

Like Home

Summary: How you're the batboys home.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff

Bruce Wayne:

To Bruce Wayne, home isn't a place. Its you.

Typically Bruce is wary of genuine, committed relationships, his kids definitely warned him about people dating him just for his money, but when he met you, right off the bat you were so different.

From the moment you rushed to pay for dinner before Bruce could was the moment he knew he wanted you.

Home to Bruce is waking up in the morning with you still fast asleep in his arms, lips parted slightly as soft snores escape your lips. Home to him is holding you from behind as you cook breakfast for everyone instead of Alfred.

Home to him is holding you close as he- (we won't finish that sentence)

you, and all the things you do, big or small, mean the world to him, and he wants things to stay like this forever…

Dick Grayson:

Home to Dick Grayson is freedom, or it was until he met you.

He had bumped into you in a coffee shop and you were in a pretty heated argument with one of the other patrons there, defending an elderly lady who was only just trying to buy coffee.

When the guy had raised his hand to you, Dick was about to step in and stop the fight, only to see you deflect the blow, twist the mans wrist and pin him to the wall within seconds.

After that he had to ask for your number.

Then on patrol the following evening, a new hero arrived in gotham, someone oddly familiar to him.

You and Dick started working together on patrol, and in person too, since you had been one of the new interns at Wayne Enterprises, so it was a good excuse to see you more often. Though you both had no idea about each others identities until one really rough battle… and to make a long story short you ended up in his apartment, kissing him when you had accidentally knocked his mask off.

“Dick!?”

You ended up revealing yourself that night, too, and after that, you and Dick started dating. Being with you, fighting alongside you, and cherishing freedom quickly changed to cherishing you, wanting you to be his forever. You became something he wanted to come back to alive every night… and that was good enough for him.

Jason Todd:

You had always been his home. From the moment you met Jason as kids, he always loved you, cared for you, and you did the same.

When he died you were broken, you mourned for who knows how long, and everyone knew that your spark had died along with Jason.

When he came back, you were stunned.

You had just gotten home from work, and noticed your living room window wide open, and in the room itself stood a large man.

You wasted no time in attacking. Jason and you trained together as kids, and after his death you continued training under Bruce and Dick, so you liked to think you were pretty good.

But for some reason your intruder wasnt hitting you back.

He only fell to his knees and he hugged your waist tightly.

“I’m home- im home- im so sorry-” He whispered, and you froze.

“Jason…?”

“Im home baby, im not leavin’ you again”

you both cried, for a while probably, but despite the tears, the trauma he revealed to you, you did nothing but comfort and love him, and hold him close as he cried into your chest about how much he missed you.

he found his home in you a long time ago… “If only i hadnt been so reckless, i would have never lost you-”

“you didnt lose me Jason, ive been here, waiting for the time i could see you again… it came alot sooner… Screw you Thalia Al Ghul, and thank you for bringing my Jason back to me”

Tim Drake:

You had Tim had been dating for a few years at this point, it had been more on the arranged side, Your father and Bruce were really close friends, and they had agreed after finding out that you and Tim were the same age and both single, that you two had to at least meet, and talk and get to know each other.

You agreed, Tim was more reluctant.

Turns out you and him were already friends. You had been close in High School, though you both never revealed much about your family lives, so being rich in Gotham kind of flew under the radar.

You and Tim both laughed about it over lunch, though in that time you really started to get to know each other. Had you always been so beautiful?

After a little bit, he asked you out officially. You said yes, and your relationship evolved into something he couldn't ever give up. Similar to Bruce, he found comfort in the littlest things. The way you held him ran your fingers through his hair and made his shoulders sag in relaxation. That was home to him.

Damian Wayne:

Damian Wayne hated you.

he despised you, and you had no idea why.

You were Alfred’s niece, and after your parents had died you had come to gotham to stay with Alfred since he had become your legal guardian.

You tried to mind your own business, you helped alfred clean, became a maid of sorts to earn your keep, even though Bruce, more than once assured you that you didnt need to worry. You still did.

Damian took advantage of that and took advantage of the whole maid aspect, you did a lot for that guy and yet, he despised you.

Then he found out that you had been asked out on a date by someone from Gotham Academy, a school you both went too.

“You’re not allowed.”

Damian stated as he walked up to you in the manor, and you looked over from where you were cleaning. “Huh?” You questioned, unsure as to what he was talking about.

“Your not allowed to go on a date with that child. Your my girlfriend now.” Damian stated, and your eyes went wide.

You kinda… just couldnt say no.

after that Damian started treating you a lot nicer, he did a lot of small things for you, payed attention to the things you looked at or liked, and more often then not, the same item would be on your bed.

he found comfort in the things you did for him, and you had no idea, but he treated you like dog shit because of his fat crush on you.

what… The… fuck.

Tag list:

All: @only-my-unexistent-fiances @francesfarhadi

Batfam:

Bruce Wayne: @ilaiise

Dick Grayson: @ilaiise

Jason Todd: @ilaiise

Tim Drake: @ilaiise

Damian Wayne: @ilaiise

[olive-main]

Hi hi! Ive just stumbled across your writing and i adore it so much! You capture Azriel so perfectly!! I don't really have much of a specific request in mind (but trust me, I'll think of one and come back if that's okay??) But could I ask for something with our Az and a super strong, independent, sarcastic reader. I just love the idea of totally smitten Azriel and just all the fluff. I'm so sorry this is so vague but

Happy holidays!!

No Damsels Here

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: A fiesty Valkyrie with a sharp wit and the brooding Shadowsinger find their lives slowly intertwined through training, quiet moments, and unexpected gestures, leading them to realize there may be a growing connection they can no longer ignore.

Wc: 2.7k

A/N: Ok be honest, did you hack into my account and read my drafts bcs….I had just the fic for this request rotting for far too long. I hope you enjoy, it’s not my fav since I think my writing is better now hence why it’s been in my drafts lol and it’s like semi proofread—BUT thanks to this request y’all get more fluff. Everyone say thank you! :b

Masterlist

——

The morning air is cool and sharp, biting at your skin as you jog toward the training ring, late as usual. The sun hasn’t fully risen yet, its rays barely spilling over the horizon, but Nesta is already there stretching, as she is every morning. Ever the Valkyrie.

“You’re late,” she remarks as you step onto the mat beside her.

“Fashionably late,” you correct, tying your hair back. “Besides, I needed an extra five minutes of sleep. Someone decided to keep me up last night with her endless talking about smutty romance novels.”

Nesta doesn’t bother to hide her smirk. “Don’t act as if you’re not interested in my books.”

Before you can retort, Cassian’s booming voice cuts through the quiet. “Alright, enough about your romance book things. You’re here to train, not gossip.”

You glance over the training grounds, your eyes instinctively flicking toward the familiar figure standing on the far edge of the ring. Azriel is adjusting the strap of his leathers, his wings half-furled behind him as he surveys the weapons laid out with his usual quiet focus.

Nesta catches the direction of your gaze and nudges you with her elbow. “Still brooding, isn’t he?”

“He’s not brooding,” you reply, a little too defensively. “He’s… serious.”

Nesta gives you a knowing look but doesn’t press further as Cassian begins pairing everyone off for sparring.

“Y/N,” Cassian calls, grinning wickedly. “You’re with Azriel today.”

You blink, trying not to focus on how your heart jumped. Across the ring, Azriel’s eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you think you see the faintest hint of amusement in his expression.

—

Sparring with Azriel is both exhilarating and frustrating. He’s fast—almost impossibly so—and he moves with a precision that leaves no openings. You’re strong and quick on your feet, but against Azriel, every strike feels like a gamble.

“You’re hesitating,” he murmurs, dodging your swing with ease.

“I’m calculating,” you snap back, twisting to block his next move.

His lips twitch, the faintest ghost of a smile. “You’re thinking too much.”

“And you’re talking too much,” you retort, aiming a strike at his side.

He blocks it effortlessly, his wings shifting slightly as he steps into your space. For a moment, you’re close enough to catch the faint scent of cedar and something darker, something so distinctly him.

“Focus,” he says, his voice low and even, and you can’t help the way your pulse quickens.

But you don’t let him see that. Instead, you smirk and lunge to the left before sweeping his legs out from under him. He lands on his back with a soft thud, his wings flaring slightly to cushion the fall.

“Gotcha,” you say, planting your hands on your hips.

Azriel props himself up on one elbow, looking up at you with an expression that’s almost impressed. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” you echo, laughing. “That was a textbook takedown.”

From across the ring, Cassian claps his hands. “That’s my girl! Show him who’s boss, Y/N!”

You smile proudly at Cassian, bowing exaggeratedly before turning back to Azriel with a proud smirk.

“Again?” he asks, his tone calm but with a flicker of challenge in his eyes.

“Obviously,” you reply, and the sparring begins anew.

—

You’re sitting on the edge of the ring after the session, toweling the sweat from your face as the others disperse. Nesta sits beside you, nursing a bottle of water and watching Azriel, who’s speaking quietly with Cassian.

“You know he likes you, right?” Nesta says, breaking the silence.

You choke on your water. “What?”

Nesta gives you a look, one brow arched in that infuriatingly smug way of hers. “Don’t play dumb. He’s been watching you all morning.”

“He watches everyone,” you argue, though your voice lacks conviction.

“Not like this,” Nesta counters. “Trust me, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s different.”

You shake your head, refusing to entertain the idea. “He’s just… observant. It’s his job.”

Nesta doesn’t respond, but her silence is louder than words.

—

Over the next few weeks, you start to notice the little things. The way Azriel lingers near you during training, offering quiet pointers or stepping in to demonstrate a move. The way he always seems to know when you’re pushing yourself too hard, handing you a water bottle or calling for a break just as your muscles start to protest.

And then there are the gloves. The day before you’d worn down your leather gloves to their last seam, small tears at the knuckles.

You find them waiting for you one morning, neatly folded and left on the bench where you always sit. They’re sleek and well-crafted, the leather soft and pliable. With your name written on a piece of parchment laid neatly on them, in his writing.

“Nice gloves,” Nesta remarks as you slip them on.

“They’re… new,” you say, frowning slightly.

“Azriel left them,” she says, her tone far too casual.

You freeze, glancing at her. “How do you know that?”

Nesta smirks. “Because I saw him put them there.”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, Azriel approaches, his expression as unreadable as ever.

“Do they fit?” he asks, his gaze flicking to the gloves.

You nod, flexing your fingers. “Perfectly. Thank you.”

He inclines his head, his lips curving into the faintest smile before he turns and walks away.

“Hopeless,” Nesta mutters under her breath, but you don’t bother arguing this time.

—

It’s late one evening when Azriel finds you sitting on the balcony of the House of Wind, staring out at the twinkling lights of Velaris below.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, his voice soft as he steps into the night air.

You glance over your shoulder, surprised but not unwelcome. “Something like that.”

He leans against the railing beside you, his wings folding neatly behind him. For a while, neither of you speaks, the quiet stretching between you like a warm blanket.

Finally, Azriel breaks the silence. “Something is on your mind”

“Oh? Am I that easy to see through Shadowsinger?” you ask, turning to face him.

“No, not always” he says, his hazel eyes meeting yours. “But you only come out here when something is.”

You hesitate, unsure how to respond. But before you can, he continues, his voice low and steady.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he says. “But if you ever want to, I’m here.”

The sincerity in his tone takes you off guard, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him.

“Thanks,” you say finally, your voice softer than usual.

He nods, his gaze lingering on you for a heartbeat longer before he turns back to the view.

The silence stretches, comfortable but crackling with unspoken words. You lean your elbows on the railing, the cool metal pressing against your skin. Azriel doesn’t move, his presence steady beside you, a quiet sort of comfort.

“So,” you say at last, breaking the stillness. “Is brooding a full-time job for you, or do you just do it in your free time?”

His lips twitch, though he doesn’t take his eyes off the city below. “Depends. Are you asking because you want tips?”

A laugh escapes you, sharp and unrestrained. “Please, I could out-brood you any day of the week.”

Azriel turns his head slightly, enough that you can see the amusement flickering in his hazel eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, you will,” you quip, straightening up and crossing your arms. “But don’t come crying to me when I leave you in the shadows.”

“I don’t cry,” he replies smoothly, his expression as impassive as ever.

You snort, shaking your head. “No, of course not. The great spymaster of the Night Court doesn’t have emotions, right?”

His mouth curves into the faintest smile, and for a moment, you swear you see something softer beneath the usual calm exterior.

“Wrong,” he says quietly.

The sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and for once, you’re at a loss for words. Before you can respond, Azriel shifts, his wings rustling softly as he straightens.

“I should let you get some sleep,” he says, his voice low and even.

“Sure,” you reply, recovering quickly. “I’ll need it for when I take you down in training tomorrow.”

His soft chuckle is the last thing you hear before he disappears into the shadows, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

—

The next morning, you’re determined to shake off the lingering feelings from last night. You throw yourself into training with a vengeance, sparring with Nesta and Cassian until your muscles burn and your breath comes in ragged gasps.

But no matter how hard you push yourself, you can’t ignore the fact that Azriel’s eyes are on you. He’s not overt about it, of course—he never is. But you’ve gotten good at reading him.

“Do you think he’s capable of blinking?” you mutter to Nesta during a break, jerking your chin in Azriel’s direction.

Nesta smirks, following your gaze. “Why? Is it distracting you?”

“Hardly,” you scoff. “I just don’t want him pulling something from all that intense staring.”

“Maybe he’s impressed,” Nesta says, her tone teasing.

You roll your eyes. “He’s impressed by my fighting skills, obviously. Who wouldn’t be?”

“Obviously,” Nesta echoes, her smirk growing.

“Don’t start,” you warn, grabbing your water bottle.

Nesta raises her hands in mock surrender, but you can see the gleam in her eye.

—

After training, you’re stretching near the edge of the ring when Azriel approaches. You glance up, noting the slight crease in his brow as he surveys the scrape on your arm.

“You should get that looked at,” he says, nodding toward the cut.

“It’s nothing,” you reply, brushing it off. “Barely a scratch.”

Azriel doesn’t look convinced. He crouches beside you, pulling a small vial of salve from his pocket.

“Hold still,” he murmurs, reaching for your arm.

You consider protesting, but the look in his eyes stops you. So instead, you sit there, watching as his fingers work with careful precision, his touch surprisingly gentle.

“You know, this is the second time you’ve fussed over me this week,” you say, breaking the silence. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to impress me.”

Azriel doesn’t look up, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. “Is it working?”

The question takes you off guard, and for a moment, you’re not sure how to respond. So instead, you settle for sarcasm.

“Not yet,” you say, grinning. “But keep trying. You might get there eventually.”

His quiet laugh sends warmth curling through your chest, and as he finishes wrapping your arm, you find yourself wishing the moment would last a little longer.

—

Later that evening, you’re in the kitchen with Nesta, raiding the cabinets for a late-night snack.

“So,” she says casually, popping a grape into her mouth. “What’s going on with you and Azriel?”

You freeze mid-reach, turning to glare at her. “What do you mean, ‘what’s going on?’”

Nesta shrugs, far too nonchalant. “I mean, he practically hovered over you all day. And don’t think I didn’t notice him patching you up earlier.”

“It was a cut,” you say defensively. “Hardly life-threatening.”

“Uh-huh.” Nesta leans against the counter, studying you with those sharp eyes of hers. “And the gloves? Or the way he’s always watching you during training?”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’re imagining things.”

“I’m really not,” Nesta replies, a sly smile creeping onto her face.

“Well, even if he does… like me, that’s his problem,” you say, crossing your arms. “I’m not some damsel in distress, waiting for someone to sweep me off my feet.”

“No,” Nesta agrees, smirking. “But maybe you’re someone who could use a little… sweeping.”

You throw a grape at her, and she laughs, ducking out of the way.

—

The realization of Azriel’s attention lingers in your mind longer than you’d like to admit. You try to shake it off—try to convince yourself that it’s just his nature to watch everyone, to care quietly. But there’s a warmth to his gaze when it falls on you, a softness that feels different, deliberate.

And once you notice it, you can’t stop seeing it.

Like during training the next day, when Cassian barks at everyone to do laps. You’re running alongside Nesta, your legs burning and breath hitching, when Azriel quietly falls into step beside you.

“Don’t overthink your breathing,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

You glance at him, eyebrows raised. “I’m not overthinking it.”

His lips twitch, almost imperceptibly. “You were counting your breaths.”

You narrow your eyes, your tone laced with mock offense. “You’re watching me breathe now? That’s not creepy at all.”

Azriel doesn’t rise to the bait, but the faintest smirk graces his lips. “Just trying to help.”

“Uh-huh,” you reply, rolling your eyes. But when you refocus on your breathing, following his advice, the run feels a little easier.

—

A few days later, you find yourself in the House of Wind’s library, searching for a book Nesta recommended, the one she had mentioned to you a few days ago. You’re muttering under your breath, cursing the ridiculously high shelves, when a familiar voice speaks behind you.

“Need help?”

You whirl around to find Azriel standing there, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Not unless you’ve got a ladder hidden somewhere,” you reply, crossing your arms.

Azriel steps closer, his wings shifting as he glances up at the shelf. “Which one?”

You point to the book near the top, and without a word, Azriel extends a wing, brushing it against the shelf as he pulls the book down with practiced ease.

He hands it to you, his fingers brushing yours briefly. “There.”

You take the book, trying not to let the warmth of his touch distract you. “Thanks. I guess having wings is good for more than just flying, huh?”

His smile widens slightly. “They’re versatile.”

“Show-off,” you mutter, but there’s no bite to your tone.

Azriel doesn’t respond, just tilts his head as if studying you. The silence stretches, heavy but not uncomfortable, and you find yourself wondering what’s going on behind those hazel eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask finally, your voice sharper than you intend.

Azriel blinks, as though pulled from his thoughts. “Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to figure something out,” you say, narrowing your eyes.

He hesitates, his gaze steady but unreadable. “Maybe I am.”

Before you can press him further, he nods toward the book in your hands. “Enjoy your reading.” And then he’s gone, slipping back into the shadows as easily as he came.

—

The tension between you grows, subtle but undeniable. It’s not something you can ignore anymore—not when his gaze lingers just a second too long, or when his words carry a weight you can’t quite name.

One evening, after another long day of training, you find yourself wandering the halls of the House of Wind. You end up on the same balcony where Azriel joined you that night, the city lights below twinkling like stars.

You’re not surprised when he appears again, his presence so quiet you almost don’t notice until he’s standing beside you.

“Do you ever sleep?” you ask, glancing at him.

“Rarely,” he admits, his voice soft.

“Figures,” you mutter, leaning against the railing.

The silence stretches, but this time, it feels charged, as though both of you are waiting for the other to speak.

Finally, Azriel breaks the quiet. “You confuse me.”

You blink, turning to face him. “What?”

“You’re strong, stubborn, sarcastic…” He trails off, his lips curving slightly. “But you care. Even when you try not to show it.”

You stare at him, caught off guard by the honesty in his tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he says, his gaze meeting yours, “that you make it very difficult to stay in the shadows.”

His words hang in the air, and for once, you don’t have a witty comeback. You’re too busy trying to process the way your heart is racing, the way his eyes seem to see straight through you.

“Well,” you say finally, your voice quieter than usual. “Maybe it’s time you stepped out of them.”

Azriel’s smile is small, but it’s real. And in that moment, with the stars above and the city below, you feel something shift between both of you—something neither of you are sure you can ignore anymore. Not when he feels that golden thread that glows in his chest, connecting his soul to yours.

——

Are y’all interested in a tag list?? I’m gonna be more consistent in posting hehe.

Thank you for reading my lovely humans. Requests are still very open ;)

[guiltyc0nscience]

⋆˙⟡ against the board, chris sturniolo

hockeyplayer!chris x fem!reader

synopsis. in which chris' hockey game takes a turn when your ex-boyfriend makes a crude comment about you, causing chris to loose his temper and break-out an intense fight on the ice.

warnings. one weird comment (not from chris,) violence.

word count. 2.1k.

authors note. this is lowkey corny but i love this idea. ive seen it so many times from different fandoms. this is also going to be quite long because i probably won't be posting for a few weeks since i have loads of studying to do (shoot me now) so this will be the last fic of 2024.

the ice rink was alive with anticipation, the hum of the crowd growing louder with every passing minute. you sat near the glass, bundles up in your puffer coat and a scarf, the chill of the arena seeping through. your fingers tapped nervously on your thighs as you glanced at the empty rink, the zamboni making its last slow pass across the ice. tonight was a big game for his and his team--the stakes were high, and you could feel the tension hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break.

chris had been quieter than usual in the hours leading up to the game. normally, he was the kind of guy who thrived under pressure, making everyone laugh and offering his signature smirk even when the odds were staked against him. but tonight, he'd barely said a word during the drive to the arena.

"are you okay?" you'd asked softly as he adjusted his gear in the locker room hallway, is usual pre-game routine. he'd paused, meeting your eyes with a look that was equal parts determination and something else--something harder to place.

"yeah,"he'd said finally, his jaw tightening. "just...gotta focus tonight."

you hadn't pressed further. you knew chris well enough to recognize when he needed space, but you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his mood than just the pressure of the game.

now, as the players began to filter out onto the ice for their warm-ups, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. chris sturniolo, in his yellow, black and white jersey with the number 3 on the back, he looked every bit the confident athlete he was known to be. his skates cut smoothly across the ice as he joined his teammates, his focus razor-sharp.

but your gaze didn't linger on chris for long, because that's when he appeared. jason carter--your ex-boyfriend that you had completely forgotten was a forward for the opposing team--skated onto the ice with his trademark cocky grin that made a pit form in your stomach. you hadn't seen him in over a year, not since the messy breakup that left you vowing never to look back. yet here he was, every bit as insufferable as you remembered.

you sank deeper into your seat, hoping he wouldn't notice you. but you had no such luck. jason's eyes found yours almost instantly, and his smirk widened. he skated closer to the glass near where you sat, leaning just enough to make it clear he was there for you.

"looking good, y/n," jason drawled, loud enough for you to hear through the muffled sounds of the arena. he raked his gaze over you in a way that made your stomach churn. "miss me?"

your cheeks burned with anger and embarrassment, but you forced yourself to look away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. behind jason, you caught sight of chris, who had slowed his pace, his eyes narrowing as he took in the exchange.

the buzzer sounded, signalling the start of the game, and the teams lined up for the face-off. chris and jason were positioned directly across from each other, their stances tense. from the stands, you could see the unspoken challenge in their postures. the puck dropped, and the game began.

it didn't take long for thing to escalate.

from the first shift, jason played with a kind of aggression that was impossible to ignore. every time he came near chris, he delivered an extra shove or cutting a remark, his words too low for the crowd to hear but clear enough to leave chris visibly bristling. you clenched your fists in your lap, helpless to intervene as the animosity between them grew with every passing minute.

then, it happened. midway through the second period , jason skated too close to chris after a whistle, leaning in with a smug grin.

"guess she still has a thing for hockey players," jason sneered, his voice carrying just enough to make chris stop in his tracks. "bet she thinks about me every time you're on top of her."

the words like a match to gasoline. before anyone could react, chris dropped his gloves and lunged at jason, his fist connecting with a sickening thud to jason's jaw.

the arena erupted into chaos as the two players grappled on the ice, punches flying and sticks scattering. referees rushed in to break them apart, but neither seemed willing to back down. chris' face was a mask of fury, his usual composure completely shattered as he went after jason with everything he had.

you stood frozen in your seat, heart pounding as you watched the scene unfold. the crowd on its feet, cheering and shouting, but all you could focus on was the raw anger in chris' eyes--and the way jason seemed to revel in provoking him and you were so intrigued to know what fuelled the fight.

this wasn't just a hockey game anymore. it was personal.

the referees struggled to pull chris and jason apart, their skates scraping harshly against the ice as they grappled with one another. jason's helmet had been knocked off during the scuffle, and his lip was bleeding, but he still wore that infuriating smirk, as if the chaos he'd caused was all part of his plan.

chris, on the other hand, was a storm unleashed. his usual calm demeanour was nowhere to be found as he fought against the refs holding him back. his eyes were locked on jason, pure rage flashing across his face.

"say it again, carter," chris spat, his voice carrying over the jeers of the crowd. "say it again, and see what happens."

jason wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his glove, looking far too pleased with himself. "what's the matter, sturniolo? cant handle a little truth?"

the refs managed to drag the two of them to opposite sides of the ice, but the damage was done. the tension between them had been building all game, and now it was at a boiling point. the opposing bench erupted in shouts as jason's teammates yelled for a penalty, while chris' team crowded around their captain, trying to calm him down.

from your seat, you could barely breathe. your pulse hammered in your ears as you watched chris pace the penalty box like a caged animal, his chest heaving with every breath. you wanted to reach out to him, to somehow let him know you were there, but all you could do was sit helplessly as the game resumed.

the rest of the second period was brutal.

every time jason had the puck, chris was on him like a shadow, delivering crushing hits that sent the crowd into a frenzy. jason wasn't innocent, either--he took every opportunity to jab at chris with his stick, his taunts coming thick and fast whenever they passed each other on the ice.

"man, she must've been desperate to end up with you," jason sneered during a face-off, his voice low but dripping with malice. "bet she regrets it every night."

chris' grip on his stick tightened, his knuckles turning white as he leaned in closer. "and you're gonna regret ever saying her name."

the puck dropped, and they collided instantly, neither even pretending to play the puck. the refs blew the whistle again, but this time, there was no fight--just an unspoken promise between the two players that this wasn't over.

by the time the third period began, the tension in the arena was palpable. the crow was buzzing, half-expecting another brawl to break out at any moment. chris and jason were relentless, their rivalry overshadowing the actual game. every check, every pass, every glance felt like a continuation of their battle, and you could see the frustration building in both of them.

you were on edge of your seat, your hands gripping the armrests so tightly that your knuckles ached. chris was playing harder than you'd ever seen, his focus unwavering despite the emotional weight of the situation.

but jason wasn't backing down, and with each passing minute, it became clear that this game wasn't going to end cleanly.

then, with less than two minutes left on the clock, it happened.

chris intercepted a pass near the blue line and started skating up the ice, his movements quick and precise. jason was right behind him, his stick darting out to try and trip chris up. the crowd roared as chris broke free, heading straight for the net, but just as he was about to shoot, jason slammed into him from behind, sending both of them crashing into the boards.

the whistle blew, but chris didn't wait for the refs this time. he spun around, shoving jason hard enough to send him stumbling backward.

"you're done," chris growled, his voice low and dangerous.

jason laughed, shrugging as if the whole thing was a joke. "make me."

and just like that, the gloves came off. again.

this fight was uglier than the first, both players fuelled by pure adrenaline and anger. punches were thrown, helmets flew, and the crowd was on its feet, screaming and chanting. you felt like you were in a nightmare, unable to look away as chris and jason tore into each other, their rage boiling over in a way that no amount of referees could contain.

the game didn't matter anymore. all that mattered was settling the score.

the final buzzer blared through the arena, and chris’ team secured the win, but the victory felt hollow compared to the chaos that had unfolded on the ice. you waited near the tunnel, your heart pounding as you scanned the crowd of players leaving the rink, searching for him.

when chris finally appeared, your breath caught. his jersey was wrinkled, his lip split, and a bruise was already darkening under his left eye. he looked utterly drained, but when his eyes met yours, there was a flicker of relief in his expression.

“chris,” you called out softly, stepping toward him as he dropped his bag.

without a word, he closed the distance between you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you into him. his embrace was warm, desperate, and unsteady, like he was holding onto you to keep himself grounded.

“are you okay?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly as you pulled back to look at him. your fingers instinctively reached for his face, brushing against the bruise forming near his cheekbone.

chris exhaled heavily, his hands still gripping your waist. “yeah. i’m fine. don’t worry about me.”

“don’t tell me not to worry,” you said firmly, your brow furrowing. “you got into two fights tonight, chris. that’s not like you. what happened out there?”

he hesitated, his jaw clenching as he avoided your gaze. “it’s nothing,” he said finally, his tone tense. “just… the usual trash talk. It doesn’t matter now. plus, your ex is a dickhead so he deserved it.”

“it clearly matters,” you pressed, your concern growing. “chris, talk to me.”

he sighed, his thumb brushing absentmindedly along your hip. “he crossed a line, okay? i let it get to me, and i shouldn’t have.”

you frowned, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. “what did he say?”

chris shook his head, his eyes finally meeting yours. “it doesn’t matter. i don’t want you thinking about it.”

you studied him for a moment, the tension in his expression, the way his grip on you hadn’t loosened. you wanted to push for answers, but something in his tone made you stop. he was protecting you, shielding you from whatever ugliness had unfolded on the ice between him and jason.

“okay,” you said softly, deciding to let it go for now. “but you didn’t have to do all this for me, you know. you didn’t have to fight him.”

chris’ eyes darkened, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “yes, i did. i don’t care what happens to me out there. no one talks about you like that and gets away with it.”

your chest tightened at the conviction in his voice, and before you could think, you reached up and pulled him down into a kiss.

it was soft at first, tentative, but chris leaned into you, his hands sliding up to cradle your face as the kiss deepened. the noise of the arena faded into the background, and for a moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence.

when you finally pulled back, chris rested his forehead against yours, his breathing uneven. “you’re too good for me, you know that?”

you smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “maybe. but you’re stuck with me now.”

his lips quirked into a small smile, the tension in his shoulders easing for the first time all night. “i love you.”

you laced your fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze. “i love you more. come on. let’s get you cleaned up.”

chris nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he let you guide him toward the exit.

[azrielsdove]

Ive been loving all the fics youve been posting. I had this lil idea that hopefully sparks joy for you if ur requests are open. Its an azriel x reader. Where reader is very cold hearted and kinda mean almost bitchy like nesta. Hates to be touched eapecially on her back. Azriel hates her cuz she so unpleastant and so incredibly difficult. The bond snaps for azriel and hes so so confused because he for sure thought elain was for him. Reader always looks at azriels hands almost disgusted but the truth is that she had her wings cut off and the stumps burned down to her flesh, so her entire back is scarred like azriels hands. Her face isnt of disgust but since he hides his hands she assumes he'd be disgusted in her. Azriel softens up to her when he finds out she has a soft spot for children, maybe she teaches orphaned children in the city. Idk i just like the idea of a cold hearted reader thats just as scarred as azzy but actually has a soft heart for kids. Or maybe shes always longed for a family of her own but cant get passed her own insecurities. You can change whatever you'd like to fit your writing style. ❤️

Thank you love!!!! I am OBSESSED with this idea and took off with it. I decided to turn it into a mini series, when I started writing the Readers POV it was getting wayyyy long. I hope I have done your idea justice, here is part 1 <3

Cold Hearts: Azriel x Reader

Chapter Warnings: None

Pt. 2 Here

***

Azriel couldn’t stand her. She was nothing but cold and hateful to everyone, especially to him. When she had first come to stay with Rhysand in Velaris, he had tried to be kind to her. Rhys hadn’t told anyone why he brought her, and she certainly never opened up about it.

The first day he met her, she was sitting silently in the small library in the House of Wind. Azriel had smiled at her and given a “Good morning.” She had turned sharply to look at him, her gaze focusing on the hand he waved with. He watched the look of disgust come over her face before she turned back to staring into the fire.

Azriel had been a little taken aback. Sure, he struggled with the way his hands looked, and was no stranger to the dirty looks. The look on her face had been nastier than he had ever seen. She looked at his hands like they caused her pain. He left the library after that, not sure what to think.

Many years had gone by since that first meeting, and Azriel preferred to stay far away from her. No one else wears very fond of her either. He still didn’t know why Rhys had brought her here, nor why he allowed her to stay. She spent most of her days locked in her room or sitting in the library. She occasionally came to meals with the family, rarely speaking. And when she did speak? It was always some cold remark, as if she wanted to be anywhere else with anyone else.

So why did she stay?

Azriel pondered that question far too often. When Rhys became trapped Under the Mountain, he had included that everyone should be prepared for war in his last message. Azriel took it upon himself to train her. He had shown up to her room early in the morning, expecting a fight. To his shock, she willingly came.

She took to training quicker than Azriel had thought. She proved to have some skill under that cold shell she showed everybody, even if it took some coaxing for it to come out. He was impressed. Azriel even started enjoying teaching her, until the day she lashed out at him and declared she never wanted to see him again.

He didn’t know what he had done wrong.

He was trying to teach her a slightly difficult new maneuver. She was struggling to angle her body the correct way, unable to understand how Azriel did it. He had reached out to help her, placing a hand on her lower back and shoulder to move her body into place. She shot out of his grasp like he had stabbed her, whipping around to face him.

“What do you think you are doing?” She had seethed, eyes on fire. Azriel had held his hands up in surrender, confused.

“I was just trying to help-“ He had begun, being cut off by her.

“Don’t. Don’t fucking touch me.” She had glared at his hands, a stare he didn’t miss.

“I don’t understand why you must be so insufferable all of the time!” Azriel had snapped, fed up with the constant negativity and judgement that came from her.

“Maybe don’t be a nasty pig and grab up on any female you see!” She had shouted, turning to leave the ring. “Stay away from me. I don’t wish to see you anymore.”

And that was that.

Cassian had taken over her training from then on out. Azriel was fine with it. She clearly had some sort of issue with him, and it seemed to stem from his hands. His ugly, scarred hands. Were they really so grotesque she couldn’t even stand him touching her?

***

When Rhysand had returned from Under the Mountain, things got better and worse. At first, she had been kinder. Azriel had noticed how she rushed to Rhys before anyone else, how carefully she wrapped him in her arms. The two of them had disappeared after that, not seen until the next day. Azriel couldn’t figure out why the two of them had such a bond, why Rhysand cared for her so much. He had just come back and announced that the human girl - Feyre - was his mate, so it couldn’t be a romantic attraction.

Or could it?

Azriel shook his head, demanding those thoughts the leave his mind. Ignoring the spark of jealousy that ran through him. He didn’t know why he cared so much about her.

***

Elain. There was no doubt in Azriels mind that Elain was his. Rhysand had Feyre, Cassian had Nesta, naturally Azriel would have Elain. It didn’t matter that the cauldron had mated her with Lucien. Three sisters, three brothers. Anyone could read what that meant.

Azriel tried not to notice the way she had slunk into the shadows lately. When Feyre first came to the Night Court, the two had struck up a friendship. Azriel couldn’t believe his eyes and ears when he saw how fun and sweet she was with Feyre. It further confirmed his belief that she was so disgusted in his scars that she couldn’t stand to be near him. She had even started to being nicer to Cassian, her training with him going much better than yours with Azriels had.

Once the bond snapped with Feyre and Rhysand, she had taken a small step back from the both of them. When it snapped with Cassian and Nesta, she had backed away from Cass as well. She barely even had a witty retort anymore, choosing to stay quiet most of the time.

Azriel felt like no one else had noticed the change in her. However, he had to admit, so much change had happened in such a short time that he couldn’t blame them for not realizing.

Why did he realize?

Even as she created small friendships with the others, she ignored Azriel. She only looked at him to stare at his hands. He had taken to wearing his gloves around her at all times, but she just stared as if she could see through the fabric. He had spent decades trying to be nice to her, for nothing. She rarely spoke to him, mostly just gave that look to his hands.

She was always going to be cruel to him.

***

Azriel was trying desperately to find a Solecist gift for Elain. He knew he had a reputation for gifts, and he wanted to make sure what he got Elain was perfect. As perfect as she is.

And he had no idea what that would be.

He was wandering the paths of Velaris aimlessly, peering into the stores as he passed, trying to see anything that seemed like Elain. He was getting worried that he would never find anything, turning away from yet another shop.

He stopped when he saw her.

She was inside a little building, large windows open for anyone to see in. He watched as she stood at the front of the room, facing a small group of…children? He angled his body a little to see clearly into the room, listening to her voice come through the window. Her tone was kinder than he had ever heard it. Azriel watched with wide eyes as she demonstrated a defense move-a move he had taught her.

And now she was teaching it to children.

He watched for the rest of the class, amazed at how well the kids grasped onto the concepts she was teaching. He felt his heart skip when her laughter floated out the windows, a bright smile on her face as she looked at one of the students. He had never seen her like this before.

When the class ended he watched as one of the smaller children ran up to her and threw their arms around her legs. Azriel expected her to jump back at the touch, instead watching her bend down and wrap her arms around them. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He couldn’t believe any of this. He turned and headed back to the House, the gift for Elain long forgotten.

***

He wanted to approach her. He wanted to ask about the children he saw her teaching. He had a sudden desire to know more about her, to see who she may be under that cold exterior.

Azriel should have known she wouldn’t let him.

It was a few days after he had spotted her in town, and he had finally found her alone in the little library. He cleared his throat as he approached her, hoping to get her attention. Of course, she ignored him. He shouldn’t have been hurt by it, but he had been so hopeful after seeing her with the children.

Azriel called her name.

Her head slowly turned to him, eyes blazing. “Yes?” She asked coolly. Azriel have a small smile, refusing to lose his nerve now.

“I saw you, in town? With the children? I-“ He started, cut off by her suddenly standing.

“Spying on me, are you?” She asked, anger all over her face.

“No! No! I was shopping, for Elain, and I happened to walk by!” Azriel was gesturing wildly, not wanting you to think he was following you. “I saw you and then I saw the children and I was interested. You were, nice to them.” He cursed the words as they came out of his mouth, sounding just as sorry as one could imagine.

She scoffed. “Why would I not be? They’re kids.” Her words were sharp and Azriel felt embarrassment creep up his neck.

“Well, you’re not really nice to anyone.” He bit out, temper rising as she laughed.

“You don’t know anything about me.” She said, looking at him curiously.

“Oh? Is that so?” Azriel felt the words coming out before he could stop them, all the things he had wanted to say for years. “Maybe that’s because you don’t let anyone get close to you. I tried to be your friend in the beginning, just for you to be cold and nasty. You are always cold and nasty. I’ve noticed you slowly losing the friends you have made, slinking off into the shadows. Do you ever stop to think that maybe it’s because you’re a cold-hearted bitch?”

She looked like he had slapped her.

“W-what?” She stumbled out, eyes wide.

Now it was Azriels turn to scoff. “Don’t pretend to be innocent now. You rarely speak to anyone except for Rhys, and when you do it’s usually to tell them to leave you alone! Even when I was trying to train you, you lashed out at me for just trying to help. You have always acted like I disgust you, always glaring at my hands. Do they really upset you so much that you have to act like i’m the worst thing you’ve ever encountered? That you have to look at me like that and flinch when I touch you? I tried to be nice to you, just for you to react like that.” He was breathing heavy, all the hurt coming to the surface.

He watched her eyes flash and then suddenly, she was yelling at him. “How dare you? You have no idea what you are talking about. Are you so self centered that you truly believe everything I do is about you? Do you ever stop for one second to think that maybe, just maybe, I have my own shit to deal with?” Her cheeks were colored red, her hands clenching into fists.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “We all have our own shit going on. It doesn’t mean we take all of our miserable feelings out on everyone else!”

“I don’t! I just don’t have any interest in getting close with you. Not everyone has to want to lick the ground you walk on, Shadowsinger.” She spat out the last word like it was dirt in her mouth.

“Why not? What have I ever done that makes you hate me so? What has any of us done? The only one of us you would talk to for years was Rhysand. Did you love him? Are you bitter now that he has a mate and no one will ever be interested in you?” Azriel knew that was a low blow, but his anger overrode him common sense.

“What are you talking about? The relationship between me and Rhysand is none of your business. For a spymaster, you’re truly horrible at reading a situation.” She was angry, angrier than she had been in decades.

Azriel didn’t care. “No one here likes you. They’ve all moved on from their short friendships with you. Even your precious Rhys has found someone else to occupy his time with. Why do you stay here? You have no one.” He felt the pain in his chest at the expression on her face.

She blinked quickly, fighting tears. “You are the cruel one, Azriel.” She turned and ran from the room, leaving him in the aftermath of their fight.

It was the first time she had said his name.

He felt it snap in his chest, the tug to follow you. He could barely react, the shock of it keeping him rooted to the spot. No, he thought. No. Not her. It wasn’t supposed to be her.

The mating bond didn’t care for his concerns.

***

Please let me know how you feel!! Honestly Pt. 2 should be out tonight or tomorrow, i’m pretty far into it. I’m thinking this will be a 3-4 part mini series!!!

[bombiikki]

𐙚⋆.˚　────  let me drive my van (into ur heart) °｡⋆⸜

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ – lee hyein x fem!reader !!

synopsis: hyein is tall, funny, smart, she’s an idol, but most importantly—she’s your childhood best friend. you’re not that tall, or smart, and you’re definitely not rich. but, you have a van—even if it is your dad’s van. 

contains: hella fluff. can be interpreted as platonic, minus the fact theyre basically on a date, and the fact they basically confessed, ok so its not platonic i lied, reader doesnt even have a license yet, minji makes an appearance!!, just short and fluff

wc: 3.7k!!

a/n: i once said and i quote “im on a mission to revive njz blr” and so thats why im dropping ANOTHER NJZ FIC IN THE SAME WEEK!!! everyone clap… please… ive also had this idea for a while i js never got to it cuz i was working on the spidey x hanni fic anwyays enjoy chat!!

♪ ༘⋆ now playing – let me drive my van (into your heart) from steven universe

you didn’t need a driver’s license to fall in love.

but you did need a van.

and you had one—technically. it wasn’t yours, strictly speaking. it was your dad’s old clunky beast that groaned like a tired dragon every time it started. it smelled like gasoline and pine-scented air fresheners from 2009. one of the windows didn’t roll down all the way. but it was yours in spirit, in history, in the way it carried your whole childhood in its seats.

the van was parked crooked under the streetlight. it leaned a little to one side, always had. there was a rust stain near the back bumper and two old stickers peeling off the rear window—one of a dinosaur and one of a shooting star. the engine hadn’t run in three days, but it didn’t need to. you weren’t going anywhere.

not physically, at least.

you sat in the driver’s seat, both hands on the wheel, pretending the van was in motion. feet barely brushing the pedals. seatbelt long-forgotten. beside you, hyein lounged across the passenger seat with a pillow under her arms and a pack of sour gummies on her lap. the setting sun poured gold over her like some soft-glow filter you didn’t ask for but gladly accepted. her smile was lazy, tucked into the corner of her mouth like it wasn’t even aware of how it made your heart do actual cartwheels.

the radio didn’t work anymore, but she hummed something quietly. it sounded like the theme song to a cartoon you used to watch together—sweet and out-of-tune. you didn’t say anything. you didn’t have to.

it had been her idea to come out here again. same van, same spot at the end of the street. same snacks. just the two of you, like it used to be. you’d almost said no, scared it wouldn’t feel the same. scared you’d grown too much or changed too quietly.

but when she texted:

bring the van and me

you went. obviously.

“you know,” she said, voice half-buried in the pillow cradled beneath her chin, “you still don’t have your license.”

your fingers curled tighter around the steering wheel—cracked vinyl warm beneath your palms, like it remembered every time you pretended just like this. like it still believed you.

“yet,” you said, eyes fixed on the windshield, like if you stared long enough the world might open up ahead. “i’m manifesting it.”

she snorted softly, the sound low and fond. “you’ve been manifesting since we were ten.”

you turned your head toward her, heart knocking gently against your ribs. she was half-glowing in the last of the sunlight, the kind of quiet golden that made you feel like you were looking at something rare.

“and has it failed me?” you asked.

“you still don’t have a license.”

“minor inconvenience,” you grinned, like a secret, like a dream half-formed.

she laughed. a real one, all teeth and light. it poured into the tiny van like sunshine through an open window.

“god, you’re hopeless.”

you didn’t answer right away. just looked at her again, like you were memorising the way she existed. the way her hair fell into her eyes, the way her voice settled in your bones.

“you love it,” you said.

“i never said that.”

you smiled. “you didn’t have to.”

she rolled her eyes, but her lips betrayed her. the smallest twitch at the corners. the kind that said yes without needing to speak.

the silence that followed wasn’t empty—it was soft. full of every shared moment stitched between now and all your yesterdays. it felt like the kind of quiet that only belonged to two people who knew how to sit inside it without feeling like something had to be said.

you leaned your head against the seat. “i’m almost eighteen, you know. sooner or later, i’m gonna get that license.”

“almost eighteen,” she echoed, teasing. “i’m still younger. and taller.”

you groaned. “that’s criminal.”

“that’s biology,” she said, smug.

you reached into the back, fingers brushing past a crumpled hoodie and the crumbs of old snacks.

“one day, i’m gonna drive this van. like really drive it. and you’ll be sorry.”

she sat up then, the movement slow and sleepy. her hair stuck up on one side from the pillow, and her eyes looked at you like they had something to say before her mouth could.

“i’m not sorry now,” she said.

your breath caught. the kind of stillness that only happens when something inside you shifts, quiet and sure.

she’d noticed, of course. her gaze lingered just long enough to say she knew. but she didn’t tease, didn’t pry. she just leaned back again with the ease of someone who already felt at home here, with you. like she didn’t need an answer right away.

you reached for something safe to say. “the van’s falling apart.”

“so are most of my favorite things,” she said, without even thinking.

your van had been a spaceship once—its wheel a portal, its seats a cockpit, the stars just out of reach behind the fogged-up windows. it had been a castle with velvet curtains made from old blankets, a hotel where your names were written in crayon on imaginary check-in sheets, a submarine where you whispered through paper towel tubes and listened for sea monsters in the silence.

it had been a stage, too, bouncing with laughter as hyein made you dance across the cushions in mismatched socks, choreographing routines she insisted were "award-worthy."

it had been a hideout the night she cried into your sleeve after her first audition—when her voice cracked and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and she needed somewhere to fall apart that still felt like home.

and it had been a tent, once. the power had gone out in a summer storm, and your dad had let you sleep out in the driveway, your pillows piled high and a flashlight glowing between you like a campfire.

now it was just a van. but somehow, still everything.

“you know what the best part is?” she asked, resting her chin on her knees.

you glanced over. “what?”

“this thing. it’s always here. always waiting.”

you swallowed. “yeah.”

you didn’t say you felt the same about her.

your phone buzzed against your stomach, screen lighting up with hyein 💫 just as you were half-asleep, sprawled out in the back of the van, window cracked open to let in the smell of summer air and sun-warmed asphalt.

you answered without thinking. “yo.”

“don’t yo me,” she said, a little breathless, a little amused. in the background, you could hear the faint thump of music, some trainer yelling counts in sharp, clean numbers. “you’re the one who texted me a picture of a squished gummy bear in your seat cushion.”

“it looked like a person,” you mumbled.

“it looked like a murder scene,” she replied, then yawned. “you know you’re not funny, right?”

you smiled to yourself. “and yet you keep calling.”

“that’s just muscle memory,” she teased.

but her voice was soft around the edges���sleepy-soft, fond-soft—the kind that only slipped out when she was too tired to hold it back. you could picture her now: tucked in the hallway outside the studio, knees pulled up, hair damp with sweat, cheeks flushed. probably leaning against the wall with that half-exhausted grin she always wore after practice.

“i needed a break,” she added, quieter this time. “and you’re good for that.”

you let that sit. warm and golden and a little too big for your chest.

“how’s practice?” you asked.

“my legs hate me. i think my kneecaps are trying to quit.”

“you should give them a raise.”

“i gave them ice. it’s the best i could do.”

you laughed, and she did too. she always had the kind of laugh that made it feel like everything else could wait.

“guess where i am,” you said, even though she already knew.

“hmm,” she hummed. “judging by the background noise and the weird echo in your voice… let me guess. spaceship?”

you grinned. “bingo.”

“do the engines still make that weird rattling sound?”

“only when we hit light speed.”

she sighed dramatically. “classic. tell your dad his maintenance crew is slacking.”

you stared up at the ceiling of the van, faded and familiar. “do you remember that one summer we camped out here for like, a week straight?”

“we weren’t supposed to,” she said, her voice dipping low with memory. “your dad said one night. and then you made it seven.”

“you kept showing up with your sleeping bag and those microwave s’mores.”

“you had a playlist,” she said, almost fondly. “with like—old cartoon theme songs and weird lo-fi remixes.”

“you danced to half of them on the front seats.”

“because you made them into a stage,” she laughed. “i was eleven, i didn’t know any better.”

“you were good,” you said, quiet.

she didn’t answer right away. you heard a faint shuffle—maybe her brushing hair out of her face, or looking away like she could feel you saying it, even through the phone.

“you used to cry here too,” you added, a little gentler. “when stuff got hard. before auditions. when school sucked.”

“you cried here too,” she said softly.

you blinked up at the ceiling. “i forgot that part.”

“i didn’t.”

there was something about her voice just then. like a secret folded into paper. like if you tugged on the string too fast, it’d all come undone.

you swallowed. “this van’s got all our ghosts in it.”

“yeah,” she said. “but they’re the good kind. the ones that leave notes.”

you could hear someone call her name faintly in the background—muffled and distant. she didn’t move.

“hey,” you said, sudden. “when i do get my license…”

“mhm?”

“let me drive you somewhere. anywhere. i dunno. outer space or… whatever’s past that.”

she laughed softly. “outer space and beyond?”

"yeah," you said, voice light. "i mean, i don’t really have a plan or anything..."

there was a beat of quiet static, just her soft breathing on the other end.

"but i’ve got the van," you added. then, like the words slipped out before you could catch them— "so, y’know... let me drive it into your heart or whatever."

she went quiet, but not in a bad way. you could almost feel her smile through the signal. then hyein laughed. quiet. flustered.

“was that a line?” she asked.

you blinked. “what?”

“you so just quoted a love song at me.”

“no i didn’t,” you said, instantly mortified. “wait—what? no. that wasn’t—that was steven universe.”

“i know,” she said, and now she was giggling. really giggling. “oh my god. you flirted with me with a cartoon song.”

“i didn’t mean to!” you groaned, covering your face.

“you totally meant to,” she said through her laughter.

you didn’t answer, mostly because there wasn’t a defense that didn’t make it worse. but her voice was like sunshine over the phone line, and you would’ve let her tease you forever if it meant she kept laughing like that.

you heard her shift again, like she was standing now. practice was probably calling her back.

“you’ll drive me someday,” she said, softer now, almost like a promise. “van or no van.”

“you sure?”

“i’m already packed,” she said. “just waiting for the ride.”

you were about to pull your phone away when a muffled voice cut through the line—familiar, but distant, like it was coming from another room.

“hyein! stop flirting with your girlfriend and get back to practice!”

you froze, eyes wide in a mix of surprise and delight. there was no mistaking who it was. minji.

“shut up!” hyein’s voice came back, a little defensive but laced with a laugh. “i’m on a break, i can talk to her.”

“right, sure,” minji said, her tone teasing. “a break from what, exactly? we’re doing serious choreography here, and you’re over there giggling with your girlfriend on the phone.”

“i’m not giggling!” hyein snapped back, though it was clearly a lie—her voice still light, unguarded. “i’m just... talking.”

“talking, huh?” minji’s voice turned mockingly sweet. “we’re all sure that’s what you’re doing.”

you could hear the shuffle of feet and the soft murmur of the other members in the background, all joining in on the teasing. it was like being a fly on the wall of hyein’s world. and for some reason, hearing her like this—so real—made your chest warm in ways you hadn’t expected.

“okay, okay,” hyein said, her tone soft but a little embarrassed. “fine. i’ll talk to her later. but you guys are ruining my vibe!”

“so you are flirting!” minji said triumphantly.

“we’re not even dating!” hyein shot back, her voice high-pitched in mock exasperation. “it’s just—just—we’re friends! okay?”

“sure,” minji said skeptically, her voice full of fake sweetness. “friends. totally.”

there was a collective snicker from the other members in the background, and you could practically see hyein burying her face in her hands, embarrassed.

“really, you guys,” she groaned, but there was laughter in her voice despite herself. “stop messing with me.”

you were just giggling softly on your side of the phone, barely able to keep the smile off your face. you were so glad it was you getting to hear her like this, all real and unguarded, even if it was a little embarrassing for her.

“okay, okay,” minji said with exaggerated sympathy. “we’ll stop. but only because you’re clearly so in denial about it.”

“i’m not in denial!” hyein protested, but she was laughing, too. “i just—ugh. i’m hanging up before i lose my dignity.”

“if you had any left, sure,” minji teased.

you could hear the rustling of movement, like hyein was trying to get away from her members, but the teasing didn’t stop.

“i’m sorry,” hyein said, trying to sound serious but still laughing. “they’re just annoying.”

“it’s okay,” you teased back, still smiling. “i’m used to it.”

“you are used to it, aren’t you?” she groaned, the sound soft and affectionate. “well, sorry for having fun.”

“i’m just gonna stay quiet over here,” you teased gently. “don’t want to make you sound any more guilty than you already do.”

“ugh, you are going to make me sound guilty now, aren’t you?” she sighed, clearly defeated.

“you kind of already did that,” you said, your voice playful. “but it’s fine. no one needs to know the truth. we’re just friends, right?”

“shut up,” hyein muttered, but her voice was warm, fond. “you’re impossible.”

“and you’re impossible, but that’s why i love talking to you,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. you didn’t even realize how flirty it sounded until the words hung in the air between you, a little heavier than before.

there was a moment of silence. then, you could practically hear her freeze, her breath catching. “w-what?”

“nothing,” you said quickly, trying to cover up your slip. “just... you’re fun to talk to, that’s all.”

but hyein was laughing softly, her voice teasing. “uh-huh. right. totally just friends, huh?”

you buried your face in your hand, a little mortified now, but still laughing, too. “stop.”

“i’m not the one who started this,” she shot back with mock innocence.

you chuckled, shaking your head. “i’m serious, though. you really think we’re just ‘friends’?”

“i—ugh. fine. maybe,” she said, her voice playfully reluctant. “but i’m not ready to admit it just yet.”

you both paused for a moment, and then the conversation lightened again, both of you sliding back into that easy comfort that had always existed between you.

“all right, i guess i’ll get back to my serious practice now,” she said, still laughing under her breath. “but i’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“okay. go be serious, superstar.”

“ugh,” she muttered with a laugh. “you’re awful.”

the call ended not long after that. and still, your phone glowed with her name like it didn’t want to leave either. 

you were still giggling long after the call. and though the silence settled again, it was filled with something light, something warm. and for a moment, the world outside your phone didn’t feel quite as big.

outside the cracked window, the sky was starting to pinken. and inside the van, you sat alone—but not really. not when her laughter still echoed off the seats.

you weren’t supposed to hang out today. she had a schedule—photoshoots, or maybe it was choreography review. you didn’t ask too many questions anymore, not wanting to be another thing on her list. but then, as always, hyein texted you anyway, like she always did when there was just a little crack in her day.

hyein 💫

meet me at the corner. bring snacks. and van.

you didn’t ask which corner. you knew.

you grabbed sour gummies and a soda in a too-warm bottle, and she brought herself—tall, shiny, seventeen, all lit up with laughter like the world wasn’t watching. she teased you the second she climbed into the van—about your height, about your snacks, about your hair—but it was easy. it was always easy with her.

you hadn’t grown much since middle school. she had. she was taller than you now, and she never let you forget it.

“remember when i had to tippy-toe to reach your bookshelf?” she said, pulling her legs up into the seat again. “and now look.”

“you can reach it now,” you deadpanned.

“and i can reach the top shelf of the fridge,” she added, eyes sparkling with that usual mischievous glint.

you stuck your tongue out. “you’re such a menace.”

“a tall menace,” she said proudly, leaning back, long legs stretching across the seat.

you slumped in the driver’s seat, hands still on the wheel. “i miss being taller than you.”

she grinned. “i miss when you couldn’t drive. oh wait—still can’t.”

“i can drive,” you argued, but your voice faltered a little. “i just legally shouldn’t.”

she snorted. “semantics.”

you both fell into a comfortable silence, the kind where nothing had to be said but everything still felt full. you caught yourself staring at her, her profile in the soft light—unreachable and so effortlessly perfect. it made your chest feel warm, the way things used to be between you, how they could be now, if only you weren’t so good at pretending.

just then, a knock at the van door startled both of you.

you looked up.

it was minji.

you watched as hyein scrambled to sit up, her movements a little frantic, like she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. “unnie!” she groaned. “you scared me!”

“sorry,” minji said, though her grin said she wasn’t sorry at all. “but, date’s over lovebirds. it’s time to go.”

“don’t say it like that,” hyein hissed, her cheeks blooming pink. her eyes darted to you, that little flustered look creeping up her neck, and suddenly you felt like you’d just walked into a private moment you weren’t supposed to see.

minji raised an eyebrow. “am i wrong?”

“it’s not a—” hyein floundered, trying to recover. she turned to you, her face a picture of helplessness. “tell her it’s not a date.”

you shrugged, playing along even though you could feel your heart do a little dance. “depends on your definition of date.”

hyein groaned. “i will scream.”

“so dramatic,” minji teased, already moving to unlock her car. “get in before i leave without you.”

hyein hesitated, halfway out of the van. “ugh. why do you always do this to me?”

“because it’s funny.”

as she climbed out, you couldn’t resist calling out, “it’s okay! i’ll drive her home in my van!”

both of them froze.

minji turned, her expression a mix of disbelief and amusement. “that’s your dad’s van.”

“and you don’t even have a license,” hyein added, laughing despite herself.

you smiled. “yet.”

minji shook her head, smiling in that knowing way. “i can’t with you two.”

before closing the passenger door, hyein leaned back in, her hand still on the handle. the light from the porch behind her caught the edges of her hair, casting a halo around her face. her eyes were soft, her smile barely there, as if she were holding something back—something that was just hers, just yours.

“you’ll get there,” she said.

you tilted your head, unsure whether she meant the license or something else. “where’s there?”

“the license. the driving. the van.” she paused, letting the words linger in the air for just a moment too long. then, in a softer voice, the one she only ever used when she was close, when she knew you were listening, “the heart.”

your breath caught, and for a second, the world around you slowed. it felt like something in the space between you shifted, just enough for you to feel it—a flutter in your chest, the kind you could never quite name. you looked up at her, eyes searching her face for something more, something she wasn’t saying aloud.

she smiled, a little crooked, a little knowing, but so warm that it almost made you forget to breathe. “you’re already parked in mine.”

and then, as if she had just dropped a weight she didn’t want you to carry, she was gone, slipping into minji’s car, leaving you with nothing but the dim glow of the porch light and the steady hum of your heart. you stayed in the van, your fingers still gripping the steering wheel, and for the first time, it didn’t feel quite as parked as before.

you couldn’t decide whether to laugh or scream.

that night, you lay in bed, thinking about the van.

thinking about her.

you didn’t have a license. you didn’t have money or fame or even enough common sense to remember where you put your house keys half the time.

you didn’t know much. you didn’t have a plan.

but you had that van. and a girl who believed in you enough to call it home.

and you had her smile, folded gently in your chest like a paper crane.

so when you finally did get your license, the first place you’d drive?

her.

right into the heart she let you park in a long time ago.

[81folklore]

i can do it with a broken heart - f1 grid

parings: gn!driver!reader x platonic!f1!grid x ex!jacob elordi

summary: after yn and their ex break up, they carry on as best they can and no one had any idea how bad they were struggling

type: social media au (smau)

notes: george is in this but he does not drive for mercedes, yn does. i also used a mixture of fem and masc pictures because i couldnt decide and thought you could just imagine whatever you wish!!

notes 2: probably the longest fic ive done so far but im pretty proud of it. the time stamps above each section are semi important so i would keep an eye on them!! also i know ive been gone for so long but i do not promise ill be back. alsoooo i know i only included a bit of the grid but i kept getting distracted and then couldn’t figure out how to include everyone!!

masterlist

march 2024

twitter

charles oh my god i cant believe my cat is finally the pfp

i have been waiting for YEARS

max yes well you better enjoy it because it’ll change soon and you’ll be back to waiting again.

lando jesus max do you have to use punctuation???

alex be glad he doesnt use captials

oscar one thing at a time lando, we dont want to scare him

max ???

lando anyway

yn mate you ok?

yourname im fine? ur scaring me you never ask how i am

lando yeah but usually your not single

lewis oh no! you and jacob split?

yourname yeah, wasnt working anymore

charles ah im sorry, that must suck😣

yourname i mean it does but its been coming for a long time so its not surprising

fernando hello! yn what is wrong? you always use emotes!

yourname theyre emojis nando, and im fine just a bit lost

fernando do not worry, i will come and find you!

yourname no, i dont mean literally just..we were together for so long i dont really know what to do now you know?

lando i get it, you wanna play tarkov with me???

yourname cheers ill get on now

george let us know if you need anything!

may 2024

yourusername

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and 814,583 others

p✌️ was just what we needed this weekend!

thank you to everyone who came out and supported myself and the team and huge thank you to the team for working so hard all weekend⭐️

view comments

mercedesamgf1 mega job this weekend yn👊 *liked by author*

landonorris nice to share the podium with you mate

yourusername same time next race?

user33 loved seeing you back on the podium

user2 absolutely smashing it this season

user21 more podiums please🤲 *liked by author*

user3 fourth podium of the year first p✌️*liked by author*

twitter

*pretend it says after march i changed dates around last min*

august 2024

yourusername

liked by lukehemmings, charles_leclerc and 1,124,642 others

did some reading, painting and writing

baked some good food and spent time with some good people, also got a cat…not bad for summer break☀️

view comments

user66 AHHHHHH

yourusername ahhhhhhh

user26 cats name plsplspls

yourusername norman🐱

lukehemmings nice music👍

yourusername woah arent you the guy who wrote mum?!

mercedesamgf1 ready to see you back on the podium

yourusername always!!!!

user74 have you had funnnn??

yourusername yesss!! ive been doing lots of things i enjoy, basically treating every day as my birthday😋

twitter

*was supposed to write them instead of her sorry!! was doing two stories at once and kept getting mixed up😅*

october 2024

yourusername

liked by mercedesamgf1, gracieabrams and 1,291,638 others

p☝️ for the 3rd time this season, very very pleased

huuuuuge thank you to the team, every single one of you who worked tirelessly over the summer break and every moment since then, these have been for you⭐️

view comments

user55 what a good season to be a yn fan *liked by author*

user6 these races have been incredible to watch, so proud

yourusername ⭐️⭐️

gracieabrams woop woop!!!!

yourusername 😝😝

user2 gracie??

user41 why have we not had any personal photo dumps yet😕😕

user88 right we miss seeing you yn!!

yourusername sorry guys😣ive been suuuper busy working on something i just honestly forgot

user41 NEW PROJECT?? WHEN?? (also pls dont feel bad we love u)

yourusername soon!! (and i love u guys too)

twitter

november 2024

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 3,689,921 others

tagged: taylorswift

i cannot believe i get to say this, but my new friend taylor just released a new album and i was able to write a song on the album

im honestly not sure how this came about but i had so much fun writing this and expressing all my thoughts and feelings in a way ive never done before

i poured my life and soul into this song and im so glad taylor is the one who is singing it and really bought it to life

send some love to my friend and go and stream THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT (most importantly i can do it with a broken heart😉)

comments have been limited

taylorswift thank you for trusting me with this song, so much love🤍

yourusername NO THANK YOU!!! i will be forever grateful⭐️⭐️

twitter

yourusername added to their story

seen by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 729,282 others

charles i feel completely betrayed yn

fernando oh no😟! what did yn do?

charles THEY DIDNT TELL ME THEY WERE WRITING A SONG??

AND WITH TAYLOR SWIFT HOW COULD YOU☹️☹️

yourname sorry charles, surprise?!

charles ill forgive you because its a good song

yourname thank you my life just got infinitely better!

yuki very good song yn! has been on repeat☺️

yourname thanks yuki, glad you like it!!

lando I LOVE IT TOO

but seriously are you ok?!

yourname yeahhh im better now

was just a lot to navigate

lewis glad you found an outlet! but remember you can always talk to any of us

yourname i know and i appreciate it, i really do

alex yn was that twitter thread right?

yourname mate youre going to have to elaborate

alex user56tweetlink

yourname oh pretty much yeah

some things were changed with taylor but not much

fernando just listened to the song yn! very nice👍well done!

yourname thank uu

max good song yn!

now

lando can you please tell me what you meant on your twitch stream!

oscar max is kind of scary

max dont make me talk about that interview next oscar!

[lostinlads]

Meet The Leader Of Onychinus

Synopsis: After days of being locked up in the base of the man wo had taken you from your home, you finally are summoned to meet him. Little do you know it is so much worse than you imagined. You're in the base of the criminal organization, Onychinus.

Tags: sylus x femme!reader, MDNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, mc is really going through it, mentions of guns, mentions of kidnapping, your first few days at onychinus, sylus is rough with you, angst, hurt no comfort

Words: 2.7k

an: Firstly i want to thank all of you for how much love this fic has gotten so far, i honestly didnt expect any of this so im kinda in shock??? But really, thank you. Ive been sitting on this idea for a little over a month now and im finally getting around to working it out for all of you!! but i hope you enjoy this chapter! its a tad longer than the first, once i find my footing in writing again maybe ill make them longer but this is what i worked up for now!! Also as always if you see any mistakes please let me know!

ao3 | Chapter List | kofi

The N109 Zone has kept you in near complete darkness for days. You didn't know how long you spent in this room, door locked from the outside, no way to leave; but it felt like a lifetime already. You were grateful for the ensuite bathroom, the sink enough to satisfy your thirst, but the small amount of food left for you on the desk was a reminder that it was just enough to keep you alive. A small box of crackers and a handful of granola bars didn't satisfy the hunger in your stomach. 

Sleep has eluded you, no matter how much you tried, it barely came. When it did, you were restless - tossing and turning for a few hours until you rose again. Dreams filled with terrifying crimson eyes and vast darkness. The constant blackness didn't help, not knowing the time of day or how long you had been here made your unease crawl under your skin. Your time spent by laying around and watching out the window for any signs of anything, but everything stayed still.

The house had been quiet, soft shuffling of the maid could be heard through the door at times, but other than that there was nothing. Were you the only one here? Where did the twins and that man go? Maybe the thought of leaving you here to starve to death hadn't been too extreme, seeing that no one had come to check on you since the moment you arrived. Kieran and his twin tossing your bag in the room and shutting it tight behind you, the unmistakable sound of the lock latching closed.

You often found yourself imagining what would've happened if you were strong enough to fight back, strong enough to get away from the entire situation. How could this have happened? Your father? The only family you have, selling you off to a criminal for payment. It didn't feel real. If things had been different, if you had gotten away, maybe you'd be somewhere else by now. Hiding out in the depths of Linkon, or maybe at the beach. 

A single sharp knock brought your mind back, your heart speeding up in your chest as you stand from the plush bed. The door unlocked and opened; familiar crow masks meet your gaze as they both stand in the doorway.

"Boss wants to see you now," One spoke, stepping forward into the room. The wide space receding at his presence, shrinking the room by tenfold as your hands shake. Reluctantly, you step forward, surrendering yourself to them to take you to their boss. His hand curls around your arm as he leads you out, his twin mirroring his actions. They lead you through the massive house, warm, dim light illuminating the halls as you pass. The thought occurs, that it wouldn't matter if they held you, you wouldn't make it out of this maze of a building alone. 

Rounding a corner, you are pulled down a long hallway. A brilliant, massive door stands before you, intricate wood carvings dance up the length like vines. Two brass door handles twinkle in the dim light, glistening like a prize. But beyond that door, whatever was waiting for you, is anything but. 

With each step, you could feel his presence looming - his power consuming. If only you could run, save yourself from the torture you were about to endure. The anticipation eating you alive, steeling you for any abuse about to come.

The twins reach out, hands curling around both handles before swinging the wide, heavy doors open.

If it hadn't been a few sconces on the wall, barely illuminating the room, you would've guessed it had been abandoned. But at the far end, a chair sat, large enough to be called a throne. And perched on it, with crossed legs and his head in his hand, the man who had taken you from your home. From your life. 

Candlelight flickered over his strong features; you couldn't make out if he was pissed or simply bored. You didn't want to find out. But caught like his prey, you were immobilized, arms wrapped in two strong hands holding them firmly at your sides. Is this what it feels like to be a hare, staring down the throat of a looming wolf, about to be consumed? You wouldn't doubt if he could hear your beating heart from across the room, the way his eyes stayed glued to your form. 

"You can go," You flinch, the deep voice echoing in the large space. Within a second the hands drop from you, the twins turning and leaving. You didn't watch them, couldn't even lift your head from the floor. Stay still, stay quiet. Stay complicit and maybe you would survive this.

Silence so deafening as the room settles around the two of you, his eyes burning holes into your flesh as neither of you move. Was he waiting for you? Were you supposed to speak? You ball your fists at your side, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath. The feeling of dread never leaving, maybe this is where you die? He had his fun, leaving you to go insane as you stayed locked away, now this is his real show. Ripping you apart, shooting you, stabbing you. Anything. 

"Apologies for my lack of manners," He finally spoke, his words feeling like a blow to your stomach as you breathe out. You don't meet his gaze, eyes still screwed shut. "I had some... business to attend to for a few days. But now that I have returned," He pauses, something touches you and you jump, eyes flinging open as you see tendrils of red and black mist curl around you before locking around your wrists, drawing them together in a bruising grip. You cry out, a soft mewl as you try to pull away. "We have some business to attend to ourselves."

"I... Please, I'll do anything just don't hurt me," You whimper out, tears already threatening to leave your tired eyes. You look at him, finally. Seeing those blood red eyes on you again brought a chill down your spine. 

"Then don't make me," His words matter of fact. He dropped his hand from his head as his other rose up, more mist shooting across the room before it tightened around your waist. Next thing you know you're being pulled across the room at lightning speed, your hair flying behind you as the air gets knocked from your lungs. You prepare for impact, maybe a wall or a floor, but it never comes. You're delicately placed on his lap, strong thighs under yours as you blink, trying to understand what happened. Your wrists are still bound, the grip of the mist never wavering. 

"Please..." You whisper again, wanting this cat and mouse game to end. Just get it over with, for him to stop toying with you. You almost don't see it, a small tick of his lips upward in a smirk for just a second. 

"I need to make sure you won't disobey me," He leans back, resting in his throne as if this is the most normal situation in the world. "I know your power; how strong it can be. How strong you can make me." A crease forms between his brows.

"Y-yes," You stutter out, a tear slipping from your eye. 

"I have got to say, Kitten," He smirks again at the nickname, your gut turning in response. "If I train you right, you will be my most powerful weapon." His hand comes up, you flinch away, eyes closing as you turn your head waiting for a blow. But his long fingers brush against your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

"But," He speaks again. "I don't know if I can trust you yet." His words lower to a whisper, the closeness and how quiet his voice became felt like this whole scene was more intimate than you wanted. He was toying with you, you knew this. Kneading you like dough before tossing you in the oven to bake you alive. Trust? You? He could kill you without thought and he is worried about trusting you? Maybe he is planning on whipping you to submission, breaking you to the point you can no longer do anything but be used by him. The though made you want to puke. You needed to think, work a plan to lessen your sentence in this hell so the pain wouldn't be so bad.

"Maybe you could trust me if I can trust you in return," You try your hardest to speak with confidence. He cocks an eyebrow at you, tilting his head slightly. "I mean," Your words rush out, grasping at anything to delay the inevitable. "I don't even know your name..." You whisper out. He laughs, his hot breath fanning over your face.

"You can call me Sylus."

"Sylus," You repeat, nodding your head once.

"And I'm the leader of Onychinus," He watched in amusement as the realization washed over you, the candlelight flickering off of his features making his face look like some kind of monster. Face dropping as your pulse quickened at that one word. Onychinus. The most dangerous criminal organization in the N109 Zone. And here you were, caught in the trap of the leader, sitting on his lap at his base. The nausea returned, your stomach turning as your mouth flooded with saliva. There really was no hope for you, you were royally fucked. 

"O-Onychinus," You breathe out, your vision tunneling as your pulse pounded in your veins. Sylus's lips curled up in an evil smile, his eyes dancing between yours.

"That's right, Kitten. That Onychinus." You try to swallow, the lump in your throat so large you almost choke. "Your - lovely - father had been playing too many games down in The N109 Zone and found himself in the palm of my hand." He held out his large hand, as if to demonstrate. "Having the right-hand man to the mayor of Linkon as your client is only as useful as any lowlife is. But the more money he owed the more I got fed up with is useless promises and his pathetic excuses. But luckily, he offered me you." His fingers curl into his palm, except his index which he pointed at your chest. "And that ticking little bomb in your chest." Almost as if on cue, your heart sped impossibly faster as he tapped on it twice. 

"So," He pulled away, leisurely resting back in the chair. "I don't really care if you trust me. I just need to make sure that you don't get any silly ideas of escaping or trying to take me down from the inside out. I own you now, there's no where you can run to, Kitten." He looked away, boredom coating his features again as his eyes trailed past you. You couldn't do anything other than stare at his haunting face. How could you run? The leader of Onychinus surely had more surveillance than you could ever imagine. And taking him down? You barely had enough energy to even sit here.

"I won't," You promise weakly, your words a breathless whisper as your eyes stay trained on his face. Your fists ball, muscles tensing against the tight ring of mist. The pressure straining against your pulse.

His eyes drift back to yours, a hand lifting from the arm of the chair. You watch more of the black and red smoke flow from thin air. It grazes your arm; you fight against a wince as it trails down to your still conjoined wrists. The link holding them together snaps as the tendril loops around one, firm but not suffocating like before. It lifts it, hand facing the ceiling as it continues to coil around your skin like a snake. Even though you wanted to, you couldn't deny how sensual the act felt. 

"Let's try something, then," Sylus purrs, sending a shiver down your spine and drawing your eyes back to his face. His intense gaze flickering between your eyes as the corner of his lips draw up into a smirk. The confused heart in your chest sped faster, at the anticipation or how intimate the setting has become? You weren't sure. 

His long fingers traced up your inner forearm, gliding up to your wrist in a delicate touch as goosebumps rose in its wake, drawing a gasp from your lips. You watch as Sylus's fingers push yours open, splayed wide before his thread through yours. 

HIs words ring in your ears from days prior. He doesn't do that. But here he is now, you nestled on his large thighs as his hand intwines with yours. Maybe it had been a front, a shoe so no one knows what he really does with his toys.

But to your surprise his hand tightens, an almost crushing grip before you feel the all too familiar pull of your evol. Power being pulled from deep inside your core as he tries to draw it out. But your head swirled, blood rushing as you cry out.

"Stop, please," You cry, trying to pull your hand from his. The grip only tightened as the crease between his brows returned with a scowl. 

"Not so fast," He gritted between his teeth. Sylus pushes harder, eyes closing in an attempt to focus on waking your evol. White, hot pain bloomed in your throbbing head, making a sob rip from your chest.

"I c-can't! Please, Sylus, I can't!" You plead out again, your free hand coming to cradle your skull. His eyes snap open, washing over your features before letting your hand fall with a scoff. 

"You're lucky I don't like picking on the weak, Kitten," He seethed. Your eyes screw shut, other hand coming to your head as you try your hardest to will the pain away. Your body weak with hunger and exhaustion, you didn't care if he killed you for not resonating with him, you almost hoped he would, anything to stop this burning pain.

Sylus shifted under you, but you didn't care, praying he was reaching for a gun to end this never-ending nightmare. But a minute later the tendrils enveloped you again. The feeling of Sylus's thighs left you as your body was placed onto the hard, cold floor. 

He didn't speak, you don't know if he was sitting and watching you writhe in pain or focused on another point in the room. Wishing you were a stronger person, you'd curse him out, spit in his face and scream at him for causing you so much pain. But the only thing you could manage was a weak sob.

The twin heavy doors sounded behind you; two boot clad footsteps grew louder until they stopped next to you.

 "Take her to her room. We're done here," Sylus spoke, his voice cold as stone.

"Yes, Boss," The twins obeyed, their hands returning around your arms slowly lifting you from the floor to your feet. you couldn't help but note that their touch was cautious, almost caring, as they paused to help you figure out your footing.

Once steady, they lead you down the winding, confusing maze that was the base of Onychinus in silence until you reach the door that contained your prison cell. Kieran releases your arm as he steps forward, clasping the knob before opening the door.

If his twin hadn't been holding onto you, you would've collapsed at the sight before you. Large boxes lined the room, a few smaller ones resting on the plush bed. If it hadn't been for the dove plush sitting atop of one, you wouldn't know what the contents would be. But you remember that same dove sitting on your bed at home. These were your things, your beloved belongings. A splash of color against the dim, dark area you had spent your last days. A sense of familiarity, a sense of home. Safety.

Kieran's twin lets you go, your feet wasting no time to move beneath you, drawing you further into the room. Your shaking hands reach out, reaching or the dove, almost needing to confirm that this is real. Your hands grasp it, not wasting any time to pull it to your heaving chest as a soft, relieved sob slips past your lips. You turn around and face the two masked men watching from the doorway.

"Thank you," Two simple words fall from your mouth, but they nod, understanding before they shut the door, leaving you some peace. 

Knees hitting the wooden floor beneath you as you collapse. Uncontrollable sobs shaking out of your weak body.

[sunrizef1]

Coming Soon… (TBD)

☆ Glorious Thorn

☆ I couldn't utter my love when it counted • ah, but I'm singing like a bird ‘bout it now ☆

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Summary: 17 years. 17 years since your life was turned upside down. 17 years since your fiance betrayed you. 17 years of raising a child on your own. 17 years of caring for a child who's driving potential would rival that of even Verstappen. 17 years after Lewis Hamilton tore your life apart, you get a call that brings you right back to where it’d all started, 17 years ago.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Mother!Reader

Tags: Exes to Lovers | Secret Kid Trope | Forced Proximity | Rich Kid, Old Money Aesthetic | Best Friend!Seb | Jobless Reader | 0% Nepotism | Starboy!Son | Bestie!Lance

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“I could apologize a million times and I know I still wouldn't deserve this life with you”

“Ive spent 17 years mourning what we had. After that much time, its not that easy to bring something back to life.”

“I don't care how long it takes, I would spend the rest of days by your side, praying for forgiveness. Even into rebirth, id come back just to be by your side once again.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

☆ Index:

Meet the Characters

Prologue: Shrike to Your Sharp

Chapter 1: Made in Your Image

Chapter 2: The Burden of Atlas

Chapter 3: Gatsby Revels

Chapter 4: Every Animal Adapts

Chapter 5: A Bird in Flight

Chapter 6: All That Time Didn’t Kill It

Chapter 7: Il Usurpatore

Chapter 8: The Goat and The Snake

Chapter 9: Most of Life is Just Knowing

To be added…☆

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Authors Note: Ahhh! This story has been rumbling around in my brain for quite a while so I was really excited to post this. It might take a while to get chapters uploaded and it will not be very consistent but I really like this so well see where this goes ☆ Until I get consistent again and finish WHIV, this is more of an idea than a solid fic, pls remember. Im just getting this out there so I will, eventually, commit to it ☆

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

☆ Tags: @ironmaiden1313 @lottalove4evelyn @jaydaaasworld @xoscar03 @assholeinatrenchcoat @crowdthena @multifans-things @st4rgirl-ellie @judelina @jajouska @minzxt @spngi @seonghwaexile @quinquinquincy

[servedvenison]

Girls Night | Garrett Garrison x Reader

QUICK A/N — so, i haven’t written in over three years, but there is one garrett fic and i NEED. more content of this man. this was originally supposed to be uploaded to ao3 and ao3 only but i remembered old friends have that account so i will wait here until i can make a new account LOL. anyway, i hope you enjoy. be kind. its been so long since ive been here hahahaa……

After spending your days with few close relationships, your time in the overworld had changed that for the better. Now, you found yourself in a happy little group of six. Sure, the age gaps were a bit... humorous, but you were all like a little family. Of everyone, though, you were closest to the "Garbage Man" himself. You two had been close even before all the blocky nonsense. But that was it, wasn’t it? Friends.

Garrett, Henry, and Steve were all off doing their "guy business” not that you had any interest in joining them. You didn’t mind one bit, especially after Dawn had suggested you, her, and Natalie spend some time together instead.

"I mean, those three are always running off doing God knows what," she said. "Why don’t we have a little fun, too?" She had a point. After hours of brainstorming some crazy ideas for a girls' night out, you all decided to stay in. You worked full-time jobs, going crazy late at night? Nah, not for us.

The night had gone by smoothly, lots of giggles, jokes, and gossip. Fun stuff, right? But it wasn’t long before the conversation shifted to the guys. It all started with Natalie talking about Henry, how happy she was that he’d finally started to fit in and make friends. Dawn turned to you.

“Come on, Y/N. You’ve known Garbage Man for how long? How do you do it? The guy’s a total loser.” You stifled a laugh behind your hand. She was totally right—Garrett was the biggest loser you’d ever met. And in a weird way? You really liked that about him.

“Okay, okay! Back when we were younger, he was like—the coolest guy ever. I’m serious! Don’t laugh!”

Dawn and Natalie were howling at this. They were both well aware of Garrett’s so-called celebrity status, how could they not? It’s all the man talks about. But cool? Garrett? Really? You knew the guy was somewhat of a loser, but him being cool wasn’t that surprising!

“With the way he followed you around like a lost puppy back in the overworld, for a second I thought you two were a thing.”

The comment caught you off guard, your face going red as you nearly choked on your drink. Natalie and Dawn exchanged a quick glance before turning back to you. Their reaction told you everything—they knew something, and they weren’t going to let you live this down.

“You guys are totally nuts. He didn’t know any of you, and we were in some random dimension, honest!” Wow, as if you couldn’t seem more suspicious. Natalie rolled her eyes. “But he sure did look cozy with Henry, you know, the kid he’d known for less than a day? And don’t get me started on Steve—”

Okay. She’d got you there. You didn’t have a valid argument. But honestly? You’d never even considered your relationship with Garrett that way.

You were lost in your thoughts until Dawn placed her hands on your shoulders, snapping you back to reality. “Listen, as much as I hate that self-centered dud, even I know he really likes you, Y/N. And don’t get me wrong, I do love to play matchmaker!”

Natalie and Dawn giggled together like two high school girls scheming to get their friend to confess to a crush. You appreciated their enthusiasm, but wasn’t this moving a little fast? Was it really that obvious to everyone but you

Lost in your thoughts again, you replayed every small memory you had with Garrett.

He was always doing things to get your attention or approval, trying to ‘protect’ you when mobs approached in the overworld, getting you small gifts and trinkets when his wallet allowed it. But that was just friendly stuff, right? Stuff people do for friends they’ve known for ages, right? Well, sure, but Dawn and Natalie insisted it was more than that. Garrett wasn’t shy, he would do those things for anyone. But the small things he did for you... those were things he hadn’t done for anyone else.

[bloodfiendarling]

𝓶𝔂𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓾𝓶 𝓽𝓮𝓶𝓹𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

a .. anon chan ...? oh my god .. are you a mind reader ? a saint , perhaps ..? ive had a similar idea for months , i just never got to writing it (shy ,,)

thank u so so much for the idv req >_< i didnt think id get any so early .. this fic took heavy inspo from saya no uta , too .. i rlly did give him the fuminori treatment ..

another case of — written by my dick — this is so horrible .. im so sorry frederick sama ..

DEAD DOVE : DO NOT EAT .

pairing — pioneer research!frederick x hallucinated!reader

wc — ~1.1k

contains — coa vii setting, fem reader (the form reader takes , i guess . theyre kind of not real ..), reader referred to with it/its prns, mindfuck, dubcon .? (is it dubcon if hes on shrooms and doing it to himself . i gen dont know, emeto, body horror, hallucinations, reader is a hallucination, self harm (scratching), established past relationship w reader

playing .. mushrooms • mili

even in such a desolate land, frederick still has the desire to create his work — his music. the composer’s desire for creation still persists, and with the chaos, he found inspiration.

…and unluckily for him, he had a slump.

nothing in the current area could inspire him for music. it frustrated him. even as he played away on the abandoned piano he found — nothing quite stuck to him right. it all felt too empty.

so tonight, frederick decided on leaving. just for one night, though. he’ll return by the next morning, of course — it’d be too dangerous to stay any longer. and where’s the harm in it, anyway? him and his team have been hopping from abandoned building to another.. be it to study more about the fungi or just to rest up.

he took a pen and paper, writing a note to leave behind — a short one, but at the very least it told them he’ll be fine… he’s sure qi will be scolding him afterwards, but.. it’d be well worth it.

as he signed it, he left it on the dirty table they’ve been using. taking his gas-mask to leave. the world is barren. everything was abandoned, there were those mushrooms everywhere. everything within frederick’s field of vision was nothing but a wasteland.

after a good, long walk he stumbled upon an abandoned music venue. it was big — it was grand. he’s sure he could find some inspiration and maybe even a new instrument.

little did the composer know, the venue was a big source of mycelium fungi.

he opened the heavy doors, looking around. a big stage in the middle, and seats all around for the audience to sit. it brought him back to his past for a bit — when he was shown on a stage — being praised for his music. ‘it was like a ray of divine light,’ they’d say.

that stage still had a piano on it. he walked between the empty seats, making his way onto the stage. the piano… it somehow still looked brand new, weirdly enough. it even sounded just like so, properly tuned and cared for.

it didn’t feel real. he thought he was dreaming. frederick sat himself down, performing as if there was an audience. he hasn’t gotten the chance to use such high-quality equipment ever since the infection spread.. he’ll definitely stay for a little longer.

even if it wasn’t real.

the composer peeked around backstage, and somehow, it looked clean. nothing like what he’d usually see. an infected corpse, bloodied walls, some mycelium growing.. none of that. it looked polished in here.. he’ll tell his group he found a new place for them when he gets back.

even if it was filthy in a sane man’s eyes.

it was getting late — he could tell that much. he’s sure his group wouldn’t mind if he came back a little later. he has in the past, anyway.. it didn’t make much problems. he sat down, back against a wall, just looking at all the equipment backstage before drifting to a dreamless sleep.

only to be woken up by a horrible sight. everything looked different from last night. no longer was it that clean place he saw the night before. it was horrid. worse than anything he’s ever seen — flesh and mushrooms coating the walls. the floor felt moist, almost as if it were actual meat. and the smell — god, the smell. poor frederick threw his head to the side and threw up. his throat burns. what even happened here..? was last night all fake?

it got worse when he saw those flesh-like veins start to crawl all over body. with wide eyes, he scratched and hit himself. it didn’t hurt, oddly enough. his body felt weirdly numb — though, frederick was a little too disoriented to notice.

“are you okay, frederick?”

he heard a voice. a woman’s voice — you..? how..?

it can’t be real — but it looked and sounded just like reality. just like you. could it be a hallucination..? no, no.. he’s seen how his groupmates reacted to the mycelium’s hallucinogenic spores — none of them ever mentioned anything like this.. he would know. it’s happened to him a few times before, too.

he placed his hand over his gas-mask, only for it to have a fleshy feel. he could see teeth and blood on his palm — panicking, the composer grabbed onto the mask of his, not realizing it was, in fact — his gas-mask. in his mind, it looked like a piece of gore had latched onto his face. he pulled onto it hopelessly. he wanted it off.

“ah, you’ll hurt yourself..” you cup his face, slowly taking the mask off. in frederick eyes, it really was a young woman helping him discard the living flesh off his face — letting him take a breath. though, it was nothing like that in reality.

he had just taken off his mask in a high risk area.

it felt like fresh air — though he was overwhelmed by the smell of rot after a few seconds, gagging. he can’t help but still see ‘you’ as a fake. but he can’t help but still give in.

“what are you doing here by yourself, anyway..?” it asks.

his jaw locked up, he can’t say anything. frederick looks down, he looks ashamed, almost. why? he didn’t know, either. he just knew whatever it was, it was you — and he’ll believe entirely.

“does it hurt, frederick?” it asks, caressing frederick’s cheek. ‘you’ could see a few red scratch marks on them.. ah.. the way it said those words — alongside those gentle actions. it really was you here in his mind. he can’t help but nod, pressing his knees against his chest and rambling nonsense.

“everything — all of it hurts.” he mumbled. ‘you’ wanted to comfort the composer. and he wanted that comfort, too — he longed for you after you disappeared. who knew he’d find you here of all places.

“do you want me to make you feel good, frederick?”

of course he did. he wanted you again. he missed you. he craved for you. your warmth. you. the composer didn’t care if this ‘you’ wasn’t real.

he watched you climb on top of him, pressing featherlight kisses onto him. as if fungi wasn’t already seeping into his tongue. frederick wrapped his arms around ‘you’ — when in reality they were enveloping himself — scratching red, bloody lines into his skin.

more openings for the spores to use him as a host. for ‘you’ to use him as a dear host.

frederick’s nose started bleeding, some of it had gotten into his ear — though, he paid no mind to it.. it felt like little kisses and bites on his earlobe — just like how you did it back then.

he felt your hands around his neck, how your lips felt against them, too. ah, he was in pure bliss. even if the room looked and smelled like rot — at least ‘you’ — no, it — was here to make him forget about everything.

maybe the rest of his group wouldn’t mind if he just left..

maybe he should stay just a little longer

idv masterlist ♥︎

[xelle-ll]

Hi hi hi saw the stories and your blog so cute❤️ as I am a sucker for angst myself may I request? I’ve honestly been loving the idea of the reader and mc being separate people and I’ve been thinking about a sylus x reader (not the mc) and of how she has been working with him for a long time and has feelings for him yet she kept it to herself cause she’s too afraid of confess and also since he’s very intimidating and scary. Also how she had to work very very hard for a lot time to get him to at least give her a smile.

But she gets disheartened and heartbroken seeing how easily he got playful with the mc when she arrives and she couldn’t help but feel jealous and upset and lonely. When she went to deliver some news to sylus she spots them on the bed (the story when mc was looking for the thingy while he was showering I forgot its name 😅) with him ontop of her and that’s when reader breaks and runs out quickly telling the twins to give it to him instead while she went outside to take a walk crying silently but didn’t notice a wanderer near by and got badly injured but she managed to kill it and tried her best to hide her injury but her slight limping doesn’t help. Also can the reader be black and slightly plump (since I’m a plump gal) hope this is okey if not ignore it 🙏

THIS FIC IS CANCELLED BECAUSE I WAS UNABLE TO DO IT

HI SWEET HEART

Yes ofc I can do that for you, I’m just going to need a little time because ive been lowkey procrastinating playing LaDs

(genshin has fully distracted me and taken over my life. I got a new character and idek where the time goes 💀)

So I’m not too familiar with Sylus yet

I’ll take a couple days and read some fanfics, get into character then write this for you 🫶🏼

I have some ideas but I will make this so angsty we can both cry together while reading it 🤭

If you have any other requests in the mean time for the other guys, I’m more then happy to do those too