#pegasus!reader

[thedarkcircuswritings]

Part 6 Where Fancypants introduced Female Rockstar Pegasus Reader to his parents and Ofcourse the His Parents disapproves while Reader's Parents approves of it

-🦄 Anon

Fancypants was nervous when it came to the thought of each other meeting the others' parents, but you assured him again and again that things would be alright. However, when you first met his parents, things were very tense. It was clear that they didn't exactly approve of your relationship as Fancypants would've hoped, and it left a sour taste in his mouth when the two of you left. Your parents though? They were automatically ecstatic, talking up and down to Fancypants as if they were an old friend, or maybe even already part of the family. It at least helped to lift up the spirits of the fancy unicorn knowing that he was accepted at least in one family for who had fallen for.

[nyxirrationalstories]

Since the bronze saints are all orphans, how would they react when their SO offers to give them their last name when they get married?

I like the idea, although I can also think of others, I will make a mix of both. Although as far as I remember, they do have a surname: Kido. They are all biological children of Mitsumasa Kido, except Saori who is adopted. In fact, that's why Hyoga and his mother go to Japan by boat, to look for Mitsumasa.

Being: Ikki, Seiya who accept. Hyoga and Shiryu with a surprise and Shun with another surprise.

Ikki: Belonging to a place, to a person you love. That means giving him your last name. That you want it together with him, that makes his phoenix heart soften. That the destructive fire is drowned by the flame of calm and happiness. His past is paused for a moment to make way for the future, a promise of love.

Seiya: The loneliness he still feels about his sister, it has become a little smaller. He is no longer just Seiya, an orphan anymore, but he has someone to make a home with, the day you told him about it, he couldn't help crying. A hard life makes gestures that seem simple have a greater value.

Hyoga: Surprisingly, Hyoga adopted a last name. In honor of where he grew up, Hyoga decided to take the surname of the place where he grew up with his mother. He never chose to take his father's name. Therefore, when you offered to give him his last name, he kindly suggested that he give you his. Hyoga would have your last name if you used his. Something that would tie the two of you together.

Shiryu: Here I see Shiryu using either the surname Kido or having his “Dragon” armor (龍/龙) become his surname. So he would also politely decline your proposal, although he is very happy about the offer. Thus confirming that you are a person he would never want fate to take away from him, someone to keep by your side.

Shun: None. There are 2 options for surnames: They either put one of the couple's or make up a new one. I think that while Shun would appreciate the offer, I think that after what happened with Hades, it gave him time to think about some things, so instead of him having one or you offering the other, he decided to present you with this second option: create a surname together. Whether it's a combination of both of your names, a place name or whatever, but it has to be yours. That both of you have created.

[straykidsnerd255]

Your request is open and you writed for saint Seiya too?!! Sweet!!!! Bless you baby~❤️😘

I've been looking for a blog that writes about Saint Seiya for a very long time so, you are my last hope 🥺.I don't know how many characters you can write so I only asked for five characters to be written😄. Dragon shiryu, pegasus Seiya, Cygnus hyoga, Phoenix Ikki, Andromeda Shun ( from classic saint Seiya ) with Fem s/o who has the same attitude as them and is understanding.... ( Separately) please 🙏

Thank you so much for been here,thank you so much for your hard work and this flower is for you 💐❤️

💐❤️🧁

Oh my gosh, you are so sweet!!! Making me giggle as I read this request!! Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!!

Pegasus Seiya:

He’s the guy that cracks the most jokes and tries to get everyone to laugh. When he met you for the first time, he finally found someone who could make him laugh just as he made other people laugh. He stuck close to you, not wanting to leave your side and you were ok with that. You like him being around you and enjoy the feel of him being around you. The day he came to you with tears running down his face, you immediately asked him what was going on. He told you everything and immediately laid his head on your lap. You snorted but let him, knowing he needed this comfort more than anything after telling you about what had happened. “It’s gonna be ok Seiya. I will stay by your side.” 

Dragon Shiryu:

Shiryu is always calm and collected. Never lets anything get to his head. So when he meets you, who is just as calm and collected as him, he becomes happy. You two become best friends in no time. Doing homework together, watching movies, even going out and just getting something to eat. One day, you were out in the forest, painting the nearby animals that walked through when you felt Shiryu’s presence. However, you could feel a sense of sadness. Placing your things down on the ground, you stood up and walked over to Shiryu. You stopped in front of him and immediately opened your arms up. He immediately walked into the offered hug and wrapped his arms around you. He needed the hug and you were happy to give it to him.

Andromeda Shun:

After his brother had left, Shun had no one. That’s when he met you. You both were shy but you tended to snap at people when they irritated you. Shun would always stick near you and keep himself relatively close to your side when he needed your presence. You never minded as it gave you someone to talk to when you became bored. One afternoon, Shun came running to you with tears falling down his face and you knew what happened. As if on cue, the people responsible for his tears walked in laughing but stopped when they saw you staring them down and glaring. They tried to argue why they did what they did but when they saw you eyeing them up and down they immediately turned and walked away. Shun gave you a soft smile before moving over to watch what you were doing.

Cygnus Hyoga:

People would describe him as cold, and unapproachable but it was the opposite. You have him were very similar in terms of emotion and the way you acted. He would always stick next to you. Even when you both were kids and training to be saints of Athena, you were always drawn near each other. Eating lunch, you both are sitting next to each other. When you were sitting on a bench just behind your little house reading, you heard someone walking back towards you. You knew who it was by the sound of the steps. “Hyoga, what are you doing here? I thought you had a mission?” You called out, just as he rounded the corner and appeared in your view. When he didn’t say anything, you knew something was wrong. You motioned for him to come over and sit by you. You didn’t have to say anything to know what was going on.

Phoenix Ikki:

Ikki was always a harsh person. After he trained to get the Phoenix armor, his personality and attitude changed. He was harsher. Angrier. Meaner. However, he never got angry or upset with you. He never said anything harsh are mean to you because he knew he would never forgive himself he did that. You were his best friend and had always been his best friend. You both stuck together when you were kids. You helped him raise Shun when he wasn’t able to. You protected each other. You protected Shun when no one else would. Sitting at the stream that ran past the old orphanage where he and his young brother used to live, he wasn’t expecting to see you. You stood at the stream, washing some clothing before lifting your head and making eye contact with Ikki. “Ikki, you’re home.” You whispered. He watched the different emotions flutter across your face before you settled on smiling up at him. He immediately stood up and walked towards you. He wanted to feel your hugs again. He missed them.

[alice-angel12x]

I have this image in my head about "More than anything", the scene with Charlie being around the spears from the elders(?), I can see Yuu's silhouette behind her around the spears as well and Lucifer's horrified face is more heartbreaking and him saying "I won't lose it all again" hits harder more when I learned about your fanfic. He lost Yuu because of his actions, he doesn't want to lose another child because of that too, even he wants Yuu back more than anything 💔

can you draw that or making an edit video or a bit of both ?

Also here is some more angst for you guys. An Animatic when Yuu first sees Charlie.

[roseazura]

𝑺𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄

Knights of the Zodiac: The Beginning – Seiya

Summary: In a gritty setting charged with tension and music, two opposites collide in a dance of sharp wit and undeniable chemistry. What starts as playful banter ignites into a connection neither expected, leaving them with a spark that lingers long after parting—hinting at the beginning of something extraordinary.

Genre/Tropes: Romance, Opposites Attract, Strangers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Push-and-Pull, Fateful Encounter.

Pairing: Seiya x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: Emotional vulnerability. Ambiguous ending. No mentions of (Y/N). Non-native English speaker. Before the events of the film. Mention of: violence, homelessness, cursing words.

Words count: 9.7k

Playlist: Make Me Wanna Die – The Pretty Reckless | Decode – Paramore | Gasoline – Måneskin | Everybody's Fool – Evanescense | Top of the World – Greek Fire | We Are – ONE OK ROCK | You Give Love A Bad Name – Bon Jovi | HONEY (ARE U COMING?) – Måneskin | Supermassive Black Hole – Muse | The Ballad of Mona Lisa – Panic! At the Disco | I Don't Care – Fall Out Boy | One More Night – Maroon V.

A/N: Hello there, sweeties! A promise is a promise, and here's another little story. I've had this idea for a long time, and I'm glad I finally got it to shape. There will probably be more parts. I hope you enjoy it!

The city pulsed with a mix of grit and life, its narrow alleys etched with invisible tracks and unspoken secrets. Neon lights, worn out from years of relentless flickering, blinked like a perpetual invitation to the dreamers and the lost. Above it all, the air hung heavy, laced with the unmistakable tang of burnt oil from nearby workshops, smoke, and that bitter aftertaste of spilled beer seeping into old concrete. This was the kind of place that didn’t ask for permission to be loud—or let chaos move right in.

The loft where the band crashed was an improvised haven amidst the outside bedlam. The walls were tattooed with years of gig posters and random doodles, every corner carrying echoes of unrestrained music nights. The light came from hanging bulbs and strings of fairy lights draped across the ceiling beams, casting a warm, raw glow.

In one corner, the drum kit sat next to an amp, guitars propped against the walls, and a microphone ready for action—evidence of last night’s jam session. Across the room, a central table, forever cluttered with sheet music, half-written lyrics in beat-up notebooks, and the occasional empty can, formed the heart of the practice-and-home combo. Around it sat mismatched garage-sale-rescued chairs where a bunch of improbable dreamers banded together under rock’s renegade flag.

You sat cross-legged on the worn leather couch—the biggest one—idly twirling a strand of hair around your finger while your gaze drifted from one bandmate to another. Tonight’s mood had been shaken, courtesy of the proposition laid down by Caleb, the drummer, whose boisterous personality filled the room like one of his powerful yet endearing drum solos.

“We need the cash, guys! This gig could cover two months of rent!” Caleb’s voice boomed as he paced back and forth, his deep brown eyes blazing with hope. His wild curls framed a face that practically radiated sincerity, his excitement practically spilling out into the room.

“Playing at an underground fight ring? I mean... that’s... odd,” Elise, the bassist, muttered, scrutinizing the plan with her usual sharp eye. With her wavy, fire-red bob and defined cheekbones, Elise was the group’s pragmatic anchor. Her piercing blue eyes analyzed every risk on the horizon. “How do we even fit a gig into that kind of scene?”

Perched beside her was Jonah, the lead guitarist, his calloused fingers lazily strumming his battered acoustic guitar while he listened. His laid-back demeanor was a stark contrast to Caleb’s firebrand energy; Jonah was calm, his messy blond hair and hazel eyes giving him an air of effortless cool. “Not saying I’m out… but fight-ring acoustics? That’ll butcher our sound.”

You leaned forward, thoughtful, your chin resting on your hand as you pursed your lips in a slight pout, locking eyes with Caleb. As the band’s frontwoman—the magnetic vocalist who could sweep an audience into the music with a single note—you’d become the glue holding the group together.

“It’s a tough sell, Caleb,” you admitted, skepticism threading through your voice. “But are you sure this promoter is legit?”

Caleb sighed but refused to let the spark in his eye fade. “Guys, I get it’s not exactly Madison Square Garden, but think about it—street fights pull in crowds, and those crowds spend money. What’s stopping us from turning those adrenaline junkies into fans? Plus, the promoter promised extra cash if we bring our usual fire.”

Your drummer’s relentlessness was unyielding, and even though doubt lingered in the room, you couldn’t help but admire his fighting spirit. Caleb was the band’s heart—on stage and off—and tonight was no exception.

Elise folded her arms, arching a skeptical brow. “Alright, but what about our gear? Those rings aren’t exactly... gear-friendly environments.”

“Got it all figured out!” Caleb shot back, pulling out his phone and frantically scrolling. “The ring’ll be sectioned off for us, and the promoter guaranteed a safe spot for our equipment. Come on, Elise, trust me for once!”

Jonah chuckled, leaning back with a smirk. “You say that like you’ve ever given us a reason to.” From his corner, he let his guitar rest across his lap and exhaled. “Not saying it’s the worst idea you’ve ever had...” he started, leaving the thought dangling before adding with a sly grin, “but it’s definitely in the top five.”

“You wound me,” Caleb declared dramatically, clutching his chest as if struck by a mortal blow. The band couldn’t help but laugh, despite themselves, the mood lifting ever so slightly.

Caleb’s pitch hung in the loft’s air like a suspended chord, thick with tension and potential. A fight ring where punches set the tempo each night—it was everything you’d never envisioned for your music. And yet, there it was: raw, unapologetic, hitting you with a mix of fascination and discomfort. You forced yourself to think straight while the rest of the band buzzed, their voices weaving together like different tones in the same song.

On one hand, you got Caleb’s point. The cash situation wasn’t exactly rosy, and any chance to crawl out of the pit was worth considering. But at the same time, your dreams of glowing stages and crowds drawn purely by the music—not the spectacle of punches flying—clung too deeply to rebel. Were you betraying the vision, or just adapting to survive?

Your thoughts drifted to Elise. She was the band’s anchor, steady and always on point when it came to sniffing out risks. Her stance while tuning her bass spoke louder than words—she was breaking down every angle, every potential disaster Caleb’s wild idea could bring. Sharp and cutting as her tone sometimes was, you got it. Elise wasn’t a pessimist—she was protective. What both frustrated and charmed you was her knack for stripping down decisions and tackling the parts everyone else preferred to leave untouched.

Jonah, by contrast, was a softer puzzle. His way of handling this was so quintessentially him: chill, detached yet quietly deep. His light laughs and casual remarks cracked smiles across your face, but you knew those jokes masked his perpetual evaluating. Jonah was one of those rare types who stayed right in the middle—not too quick to jump nor too rigid to close off. He was a silent but solid pillar.

And then there was you, smack-dab in the eye of the storm, trying to untangle which part of you was right. The dreamer who wanted bigger things, refusing to settle for anything less than what felt worthy of your music—or the realist who knew dreams didn’t pay the bills, and that maybe it wasn’t about where you played, but how. The answer was in all of you, in how you chose to face this moment. Whatever happened, your voices, your decisions—that would be the melody shaping your path forward.

When you finally made the call, the loft’s rhythm shifted, like an invisible beat marking what was to come. You sat up straight on the couch, your posture a silent act of resolve, and let the words everyone had been waiting for spill from your lips: “Alright,” you said, cutting through the noise with the authority of a born frontwoman. “Let’s break it down. Caleb, you’ve laid out your case: money, exposure, and the chance to turn this street-fight crowd into fans. Elise, Jonah—what are the downsides?”

Elise leaned forward, ticking off points on her fingers. “Potential damage to our gear. Sketchy venue. Crappy acoustics. And it’s risky—our music might totally flop with that crowd.”

Jonah nodded, picking up where she left off. “We could alienate our current fans, and if it bombs, we’re stuck with the ‘fight-ring band’ stigma.”

You chewed your lip, letting the weight of their concerns sink in. Your gaze locked on Caleb, who stood steadfast in his belief. “Alright—what are the upsides?”

Caleb seized the chance. “Money to keep us afloat. A one-of-a-kind venue—imagine the buzz! Plus, I’ll personally make sure everything goes smoothly, even if I have to charm every street-fight fan in there to pull it off.”

Jonah smirked, leaning back with that signature grin of his. “You? Charm them? That’s a fight night in itself.”

Your laughter broke out, melodic and contagious. It spread through the room like sunshine after a storm, slicing through the tension in the air. You turned to your bandmates, your gaze serious but brimming with determination.

“Here’s the deal: Caleb’s got a point—we need the money. And if it works, this could be the kind of story we tell for years. Worst case? We shake it off and keep moving.”

Elise, who had been sitting on the floor, froze mid-motion. Her meticulous adjustments to her bass strings stopped cold, her hands resting on the instrument as if your words had knocked the wind out of her. She looked up, raising an eyebrow—the kind of look only Elise could pull off, a mix of doubt and warning.

“Just hope you know what you’re doing,” she said, her voice sharp but measured, kicking the little tuner by her side with the toe of her boot. She pushed her hair behind her ear, a tell she’d never admit to—one that gave away her nerves every single time.

Jonah let out a light chuckle, the kind that dismantled any lingering tension with effortless ease. His gaze found yours, his eyes gleaming with playful defiance. “Knew you’d say yes,” he commented, his fingers idly teasing a loose guitar string, his laid-back rhythm borderline irritating. But the way he tilted his head, the spark in his eyes—it hinted at more than his words let on. Jonah had a knack for reading the vibe better than anyone, and maybe that’s why he hadn’t put up much of a fight. He was watching, waiting.

Caleb was all action. He shot up, throwing his hands in the air like he’d just won a title match. “That’s what I’m talking about!” he shouted, so full of energy you half-worried he’d accidentally strike the drum behind him.

He strode toward his drum kit with big, deliberate steps, his grin stretching so wide it was almost ridiculous. But you caught the subtle tension in his movements—the way he tightened the cymbal screws just a little too hard, like he was trying to keep a lid on emotions he couldn’t fully show. Caleb was always the guy who acted like anything was possible, but this time, his body language told you he was betting more than he let on.

As for you, your body moved almost on autopilot. You rose slowly from the couch, crossing the loft toward the corner where your microphone rested on its stand. Each step was a bridge between doubt and decision, every movement a reminder that there was no turning back now. Your fingers brushed against the cold metal of the mic, and a shiver ran up your spine. You stood there for a moment, taking it all in—the loft that had been your home. The dim lights, the worn-out furniture, the posters from past gigs lining the walls… all of it seemed to be watching you, waiting to see what you’d make of this chance.

Elise let out an audible sigh, breaking the quiet spell in the room. Jonah tipped his head back, the chair creaking under his weight as he exhaled with unhurried calm. Caleb was already tweaking his drum set with fast, precise moves, each hit sounding like the heartbeat of something new beginning to unfold. And you… you tightened your grip around the mic, feeling the cool metal under your skin like a silent promise. The choice was made, and the fire igniting in your chest started to spread, turning into a resolve you couldn’t deny.

The flickering city lights never reached this forgotten corner, where voices roared louder than the music and the steel of the cage reflected the rawest emotions. There were no fancy stages or polished crowds here—just the frantic pulse of a crowd starving for spectacle, for adrenaline, for something to shake the monotony of the night.

This wasn’t the place where musicians dreamed of playing. This was the place where they were tested.

Shouts and the tang of rusted metal mingled with the murmur of hushed bets. The venue didn’t promise glory—just a shot. And sometimes, a shot was all you needed. For you and the band, tonight wasn’t about contracts or prestige; it was about survival, about forcing the world to listen—even if just for a few minutes. In this cage, among sweat and uncertain expectations, your music would be your weapon, your battle cry.

Everyone knew it: once the first note hit, there was no turning back. You’d either own this ring or drown in the noise.

The old, rickety van wheezed to a stop in front of the venue, its engine coughing out one last gasp before falling silent. Just a glance at the place made it clear—this wasn’t the kind of spot that hosted strictly legal business.

You climbed out first, the synthetic fur of your dark coat shielding you from the night’s chill. Beneath it, your outfit struck a perfect balance between chic and rebellious. The cold night air tugged at your hair as your eyes scanned the area, bracing for what was coming—what was already inevitable.

One by one, your bandmates clambered out, each hauling gear and instruments. Caleb moved with the energy of someone who didn’t know fear. His faded tee sported the design of a drum set engulfed in flames—a pretty accurate omen of his explosive style on stage.

“This is it,” he said with a dazzling grin, his eyes gleaming as he took in the building. “This is where legends are made.”

Elise, on the other hand, radiated skepticism. Adjusting her cardigan over her worn-out tee and ripped jeans, she wrinkled her nose at the scent of the place: a mix of sweat, metal, and old grease. “More like where questionable decisions get made,” she muttered, her sharp eyes sweeping the area with a critical glare. The strap of her bass rested securely over her shoulder—the only sign she was game to play, even if the vibe left her unimpressed.

Jonah strolled with an easy, unbothered pace, his battered guitar case slung across his back. His scruffy style fit him like a second skin: faded jeans, half-buttoned flannel shirt, and sneakers that had definitely seen better days. He eyed the structure of the ring with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Well, it’s got… character,” he offered, his signature lopsided grin firmly in place.

“Character? That’s what we’re calling get tetanus now? Because that’s exactly what it looks like… well, that,” Elise shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm and doubt as she pointed toward the ring with pursed lips, clearly regretting every step closer.

Inside, the venue was even more intimidating. At the center, the ring stood like a caged beast, its metal fences glinting under the dim lighting. The air was heavy with sweat, cheap beer, and the tang of rust. The noise was deafening—shouts, bets, and loud, animated conversations filled the space with a raw, unfiltered energy.

As you ventured further into the room, the crowd’s sounds grew louder—a chaotic hum of rising and falling voices, rough laughter, and the occasional sharp clang of someone adjusting the metal fencing. This wasn’t a place built for music, but there was something raw and real about it that started to settle deep in your bones.

There’s no turning back now, you thought. Time to face it.

You felt every gaze from the crowd piercing through you as you moved toward the ring. Some faces showed nothing but curiosity; others sparked with skepticism, maybe even a hint of mockery, like they were silently asking what the hell you were doing here. But wasn’t that the challenge? Earning a place in a space that was never meant for you. The idea was absurd, sure—but it was thrilling, too. And though your mind kept grappling with uncertainty, a flicker of pride began to surface. This place didn’t belong to you, but you were about to make it yours.

Caleb led the charge, heading up the little procession with the same boundless enthusiasm he'd had since pitching this whole plan. His stride was quick, deliberate, practically buzzing with energy. You could feel it even from behind him. Still, his movements were just a little too rushed, like he was trying to mask any nerves bubbling beneath the surface. You knew he was hyped, but you also knew this was his gamble—and he couldn’t afford to lose.

Jonah walked beside you, his pace relaxed, almost like he didn’t care about the chaos surrounding him. But you knew him too well to buy into that front. His eyes were taking in every detail—the dim lights dangling over the ring, the faces of the closest spectators, the vibe of the entire scene. There was something about the way Jonah observed things, always finding music in the most unexpected places, and it gave you a sliver of calm.

Trailing behind, Elise was pure focus. She didn’t say much, but her silence spoke volumes—she was calculating, assessing, ready for anything that could go wrong. You didn’t expect her to enjoy being here, but you knew that once she stepped into the ring, there’d be no room for doubt in her steady hands.

Before you reached the ring, Cassios—the host—emerged from the shadows, his presence impossible to ignore. He was a mountain of a man, with a piercing glare that could cut right through anyone who dared cross him.

“The ring’s clear, like I promised,” he said in a gravelly, controlled tone, his gaze scanning each band member. “You’ve got one hour. Make it count.” There was respect in his voice, sure, but also a clear demand: prove you deserve to be here.

No pressure, buddy.

When you reached the center of the ring, time seemed to slow down for a moment. The lights hanging above you were way too dim, colorful, and the glint of metal transformed the space into something even more chaotic. You dropped your gear, each of you moving with clear purpose.

Caleb dove straight into setting up his drums, his hands darting across cymbals and bolts while his feet tapped out a soft rhythm, almost like he was mentally gearing up for what lay ahead. Jonah adjusted his amp, his fingers gliding over his guitar strings with the ease of someone who knew exactly what they were doing, even in uncharted territory. Elise, methodical as always, crouched to double-check every cable and connection, ensuring nothing would fail in the critical moment.

As for you, you approached the mic already waiting at the center. You ran your fingertips over the stand, letting the cold metal anchor you in the present. Taking a deep breath, you raised your gaze toward the metal cage separating you from the crowd. The faces were still there—expectant, some impatient, others just curious. Your heartbeat quickened, but you let it ride. This was your moment, and there wasn’t time for hesitation.

As the final adjustments came together, the noise of the crowd morphed into a sort of background rhythm—a restless energy feeding into everything you were about to unleash. Caleb’s drum taps echoed like heartbeats, steady and full of promise, signaling the start of something new. Jonah tested a chord, the crisp sound slicing through the air, while Elise ran her fingers over her bass strings, checking the depth of her tone. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the sounds fuse together inside you, forming the bedrock of what was to come.

When you opened them again, everything was in place. It didn’t matter that you were standing in a fight ring, surrounded by unfamiliar faces and an air thick with skepticism. The only thing that mattered now was the music—and you were ready to let it do the talking.

Time stretched as you adjusted the mic in front of you. Beyond the metal cage separating you from the crowd, the energy buzzed—a mix of vibrant anticipation and overlapping shouts, filling every corner of the space. A rush of adrenaline shot through you, grounding you in the surreal intensity of the moment. This wasn’t the stage of your dreams—it was a fight ring, a place built for confrontation, not harmony. And yet, standing there, you felt every fiber of your being bracing itself to claim it as your own.

Your breath was slow, deliberate, as you scanned the audience. You could feel the weight of all the emotions riding on this: the uncertainty, the doubt, the pressure to make it work. But when you wrapped your fingers around the mic, something shifted. The firm grip drew in all the scattered energy around you, focusing it into one electric point. Your eyes burned with an internal fire as you stepped forward, the proximity to the crowd sending your pulse into overdrive. This wasn’t fear. This was challenge. This was hunger—the drive to prove what you were made of.

“A wild crowd, I see,” you began, your tone magnetic, alive. “Tonight, this ring isn’t just a battlefield—it’s a stage. A stage of fire and freedom. You came here for a fight, but what you’re about to witness is… a revolution.”

Your words stirred a ripple of intrigue through the audience, pulling them toward the show about to unfold. Even Elise, doubts and all, couldn’t help but admire the way you held the room captive with just a line.

Alright then. Showtime.

The first chord tore through the air like unexpected thunder. Jonah was the one to strike it, his fingers sliding over the strings with precision while the amps magnified the sound into something bigger than the space itself. For a moment, that ring—so used to screams and blows—stood suspended, caught in the echo of that opening note.

Caleb’s drumming kicked in instantly, each beat landing with the force of a heartbeat full of life. Elise’s bassline followed, deep and grounding, anchoring everything to solid ground even as the ring’s walls continued to hum with the voices of the crowd.

You, standing at the mic, felt it all start to click. The energy from your bandmates surged into the air, flowing toward you like an invitation, a call to rise to the moment. Your breathing steadied, your body alive with adrenaline and purpose. Then, as you opened your mouth and let the first note fly, everything changed.

Your voice pierced the air like lightning—clear, charged with raw emotion. It was strength, it was fire, but it was also a bridge. Each word you sang felt like a lifeline connecting the band to the audience, who began to stir, slowly at first, like they were waking from a deep haze as the music pulled them in.

The skeptical faces you’d noticed earlier were now tinged with surprise; some crossed arms loosened, and murmurs gave way to focused attention. You felt it—that connection. It coursed through you like electricity, from the soles of your boots to the tips of your fingers, surging out through your voice and wrapping around the crowd like an invisible current.

The sound was a chaotic symphony of control and expression. Jonah and Elise were loosening up, letting the music guide them back to their comfort zone. Caleb was utterly in his element, each crash of his drumsticks carrying a weight and intention that seemed to fill the entire ring.

And you… you were somewhere else entirely. As the lights flickered above you and the metal’s glint seemed to dance in sync with the rhythms, you let everything you felt pour into every note. Your stance grew stronger with every line, your voice not just singing but speaking directly to the crowd, as if tearing down the metal barricades separating you from them.

The audience began to shift, little by little—first in subtle movements, then in shouts echoing your choruses. Someone in the back threw their hands up, and it was enough to set off a chain reaction. Arms lifted, heads nodded, and individual voices fused into one collective roar, an energy that pulsed through the room and back into the band like some invisible fuel.

You let your emotions lead. You could feel the heat of the lights, the roar of the crowd, the vibration of every instrument. It was a moment that consumed and freed you all at once. The space was no longer a fight ring—it was yours. Every note, every drumbeat, every lyric was a declaration that you could turn any space into something unforgettable. And as the music soared toward its first climax, you felt something new: you weren’t just playing anymore. You were creating magic in a place no one expected it.

This was art—chaotic, unrestrained, and undeniably alive.

The streets had been his home for so long that Seiya could no longer tell the difference between a refuge and a prison. Every step felt like a fight against the concrete beneath his feet, against the invisible weight he carried since the day his life shattered. That night, his body still bore the ache of blows from the ring hours before, his skin marked by the memory of a battle fought not for glory but survival. His muscles throbbed, sure, but the real burden sat elsewhere—in that corner of his mind where desperation twisted into routine, creating a storm with no end in sight.

The fight, the ring, the shouts—they were all part of his world now. He didn’t enjoy it, but he accepted it, because there wasn’t anything else. Seiya didn’t fight to win; he fought because it was the only way to fill the silence, to scrape together enough cash to keep going. Life on the streets had taught him one thing: time didn’t wait for anyone, especially not for someone like him—someone who’d mastered the art of building invisible walls between himself and everyone else.

As he wandered the edges of the venue, his gaze swept across the faces in the crowd—a patchwork of expressions he’d trained himself to ignore. Thrilled faces, hyped for the next brawl with a mix of eagerness and cynicism. Lonely souls, like him, who didn’t belong but stayed because they had nowhere else to be.

He was ready to leave, fed up with the endless cycle of this scene, a life that felt stuck on repeat. His mind worked on autopilot—head for the exit, find some corner to crash in for the night, rinse and repeat tomorrow. That was his routine, a relentless engine that never missed a beat.

And then something happened. The first strum of a guitar ripped through the air, freezing him mid-step before he reached the exit. His stride faltered, and almost against his will, his eyes drifted toward the center of the ring. A band? Here? The thought hit him like a punch. It was an unexpected intrusion into the chaos he knew so well, and something about that discord—the sheer audacity of bringing music into this place—kept him rooted in place. Seiya shifted to the back, blending into the shadows, watching cautiously as it unfolded.

For a moment, his focus wasn’t even on the band. His gaze roamed the space, trying to figure out how this anomaly fit into a world he thought he understood. The lights burned brighter than usual, throwing jagged shadows across the metal fences. The crowd was split—some watching with anticipation, others clinging to their doubt. The air crackled with tension, with some unspoken challenge hanging in the balance. And so, Seiya stayed where he was, waiting, not yet ready to commit.

And then he saw you. When the people ahead of him shifted, granting him a clear view of the ring, his breath hitched. You stood in the center, gripping the mic with a confidence that clashed sharply against the gritty backdrop. In that instant, the noise, the voices, even the exhaustion weighing him down—all of it faded into nothing. The curiosity that had been absent moments ago sparked to life, slow but undeniable, tugging Seiya away from his indifference.

There was something magnetic about you—something he couldn’t brush off. His mind, conditioned to survive and move on, came to a screeching halt. For the first time in forever, the noise, the fights, even his own fatigue fell away, eclipsed by something else.

And then you began to sing. Seiya felt a wave unlike anything he’d ever known. Your voice crashed through the invisible walls he’d built around himself, filling him with something he didn’t know how to name. Every word you sang, every note that left your lips, felt like it was directed straight at him, daring him to look past his daily grind. His emotions stirred—a chaotic mix of awe, curiosity, and something dangerously close to relief. For the first time in what felt like years, he was witnessing something worth stopping for.

As the first song rolled on, Seiya realized his reactions weren’t following the script he knew. At first, he stood stiff, observing from his pocket of shadows. But as the music poured into the space, swelling with the band’s raw energy, something began to shift inside him. His arms fell from their tightly crossed position, his stance loosened, and at some point, he even found himself wanting to get closer. He nudged a couple of people out of the way to clear his line of sight. Your energy—combined with the band’s unique blend of defiance and authenticity—seemed to catch on like wildfire. Even someone like him, who rarely let himself feel much of anything, began to sense a spark of something close to comfort in the middle of all this chaos.

You glanced at the crowd every now and then, and though your gaze never landed directly on him, Seiya felt as if each glance carried something meant for him. It was strange, almost surreal, but it was grounding in a way he hadn’t experienced before. In this unexpected, chaotic corner of his world, he’d found a fragment of something that felt… like hope.

The final chord rang out, fading into the air and leaving an awkward silence behind, quickly filled by the crowd’s applause. Seiya, still tucked into the shadows, felt the realization hit like a sucker punch: he’d enjoyed it. But the problem wasn’t the music, or the band, or even the sudden shift in the atmosphere. The problem was that he knew it. Damn it.

He berated himself internally—there was no room for this in his world. Music was a luxury, something that belonged to other people, to those who had the time and freedom to be moved by chords and voices filling the air. Seiya wasn’t part of that. His life was built on hits—those he took in the ring and those the city hurled at him every day without mercy. He didn’t have the luxury of holding onto anything because nothing stayed, nothing was his. And the one person who had managed to stay had been ripped away from him long ago, leaving scars deep enough to shape his very soul. So no, this couldn’t get to him. But it had. The fucking truth? He’d felt something.

The crowd was waking up now. The energy that had been hesitant at first was now flowing freely, like a dam bursting and unleashing its pent-up fury. Seiya watched as the people—those same people who’d ignored the first chords with casual indifference—now threw their hands up, shouted, gave themselves over to the scene unfolding in the ring. Some sang along to the chorus without hesitation, others simply nodded in rhythm, letting the music sweep them up without a fight. It was ridiculous. This transformation, this complete surrender to something no one expected ten minutes ago… but Seiya couldn’t deny it. It was happening. And the worst part? He was caught in it too.

He looked to the ring—at you—and found the real problem. You didn’t seem surprised by the crowd’s reaction. There was no trace of uncertainty, no hesitation about whether you belonged here. You just knew. You knew your voice would flip the script, that your music would carve out a new space in this chaotic, gritty atmosphere. Seiya watched as you gave a slight nod of thanks, paired with a smile—not triumphant, but certain. Against all logic, he found himself stuck in that moment.

Don’t get used to it, he told himself, like some kind of survival mantra. Don’t fall for the euphoria, the sound, the way these musicians seemed to command the air with every note. But his body had other ideas. His feet didn’t move toward the exit. His arms, still crossed, didn’t feel as tense anymore. Something had shifted, and even as he tried to convince himself this meant nothing, he knew he was lying.

You stepped forward, mic in hand. “Wow, the adrenaline in this room’s no joke. Or maybe it’s the beer talking?” you teased, your tone a perfect mix of challenge and charisma. “If you’re still here, we’ll take that as a sign we’re not too bad, right?”

The crowd answered with cheers and whistles, as if accepting the band’s presence instinctively rather than out of total conviction. From his corner, Seiya rolled his eyes, exasperation creeping into his thoughts. Great. Now they’re interacting. Guess they’re officially part of the ring ecosystem.

You laughed lightly, playing off their response. “See? Stepping out of the routine’s not so bad. No offense, but I think I’d rather hear this than the noise of fists flying, right? Same chaos, just… more in tune.” You arched a brow, your words dripping with playful daring.

Seiya snorted. Sure. Like this place needs motivational philosophy now. He glanced around, noticing how, against all odds, some people seemed genuinely responding to your words. What’s next? Self-help speeches between rounds?

But deep down, something about your words unsettled him—not because they were false, but because they rang true. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but tonight felt different. What had always been a predictable grind—a cycle of fights and losses—now had an unexpected layer. He refused to acknowledge it and settled back into his usual stance of indifference.

“We’re making tonight count,” you said, your voice steady but light. “If you came here to forget it all for a while, then let’s do it right.”

The night rolled forward, the next song on the brink of starting. Seiya let out a long sigh—the kind of sigh you give when you realize you’ve already lost the fight. Fine, he thought with reluctant acceptance. I’ll stay. But not because I want to. Just to see if this keeps being good.

Yeah, right. Like he didn’t already know the answer.

The last chord faded into the air, leaving behind a chaotic euphoria. The crowd—who’d initially eyed the band with the same suspicion reserved for a sketchy street vendor at dawn—was now roaring with applause, whistles, and shouts that mingled admiration with raw adrenaline. The ring, once a space ruled by fists and wagers, had transformed into another world—one where sweat and sound fused into something unforgettable.

Still holding the mic, you let the night’s energy course through you before speaking. You took a deep breath, your body still vibrating with the intensity of the final song, and when you spoke, your voice carried strong, steady. “That was amazing—thank you!”

The crowd answered with louder cheers, some even banging on the metal fences in a makeshift round of applause. The band exchanged glances—Caleb glowing with pure adrenaline, Jonah as chill as ever, and Elise somewhere between relief and satisfaction.

“We came here to play, but you made it worth it,” you continued, your voice tinged with the thrill of the moment. “See you soon, and remember: art can be just as loud and fierce as the punches.”

Jonah chuckled at your words, Caleb lifted his arms in triumph like he’d just won a championship match, and Elise leaned into her bass, eyes closed for a second, a smile tugging at her lips—a clear, resigned ‘you were right’. Turning to them, you let the rush settle in your chest, your heart pounding like Caleb’s drumming, the energy still echoing on your skin.

Amid the uproar, while you and your bandmates started packing up, something shifted. A gaze, from the crowd—different from the rest, pulling at your attention. Instinctively, your head turned to find it, but the dim light and packed space worked against you. You shook it off, deciding it was probably just another fan drawn to the band’s presence.

Still, you knew. You felt. This wasn’t just anyone.

When most of the gear was packed, you gave your band a subtle signal—a motion they knew well. Their nods came quick, silently granting you a moment to yourself: you needed air. Space. That breath between chaos and calm where scattered fragments could knit themselves back together, grounding you anew.

You threaded your way to the building’s outer wall, stepping into shadows that wrapped around you like a familiar embrace. Leaning against the rough concrete, your spine unwound just enough, the solid contact anchoring you to reality. Your hands, still tense from gripping the mic, gradually unclenched, the phantom feel of metal lingering against your fingertips.

Closing your eyes, you let the night speak. The distant hum of the dispersing crowd, the muffled music still pulsing from inside, the soft crackle of leaves brushing against the breeze—it was your private concert of serenity, the exact rhythm you needed to balance the lingering fire in your chest.

Your thoughts spiraled like looping notes in a tricky melody. Memories of standing in the center of the ring, absorbing every vibration, every look, every emotion, filled you with a controlled kind of euphoria. You’d never been one for cliché expectations or the chaotic rebel archetype often stapled to rock musicians.

For you, every note had a purpose; every word sung stretched deeply rooted truths. It wasn’t just noise—it was art, impact, connection. But these moments of calm mattered just as much, the spaces where you questioned whether you’d reached every soul you aimed to touch, whether your music had truly delivered something real.

Your breath came slow, deliberate, your chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Beneath it, though, a faint tremor thrummed, a current refusing to fade completely. You’d done what you came to do—that much was clear—but you couldn’t deny the restless charge still coursing through you. Your legs shook just slightly—not out of weakness, but a surplus of energy seeking release. With a smooth, deliberate motion, you tilted your head, letting the night air kiss your neck, clearing your thoughts.

Faces from the crowd flickered in your mind—some brimming with doubt, others curious, at first. Now, those same faces had sent you off with cheers and applause, their echoes still thudding faintly in your chest. It wasn’t vanity driving your reflections, but a hunger to understand. Had they seen what you intended to show? Had they grasped that music wasn’t just chaotic noise, but something capable of turning even the harshest spaces into living, breathing transcendence? You weren’t looking for easy answers—you knew real connections didn’t happen in an instant. They lingered. Grew. Took root.

And then you felt it. Not a sound, not a sudden movement—but a presence. The kind of energy that pulls your senses to alert before your thoughts catch up. Instinctively, you turned toward the shift, scanning the dim air for what had unsettled it.

And there he was.

He emerged from the side door with a natural ease that felt almost too perfect—like it had been practiced. His steps were firm but unhurried, a casual confidence radiating from the way his zip hoodie hung loosely over his shoulders and how the messy strands of his dark hair caught the faint moonlight filtering through the shadows. There was something about him you recognized before you even understood why. Maybe it was the way his expression balanced exhaustion and self-assuredness in perfect harmony, like someone who’d mastered the art of survival.

He's handsome, though.

He didn’t seem to have noticed you yet, but every fiber of his being reacted to your presence, as if drawn to it without choice. You stayed still, keeping your gaze locked on him—no retreat, no hesitation. And when his eyes finally found yours, it happened: that spark, that small friction between two worlds that weren’t supposed to touch, but somehow did.

It was him, you thought, the realization hitting as you remembered the feeling from earlier in the ring. That sensation of being watched, of someone seeing you differently from all the others, lingering in your chest like an echo.

Seiya, on the other hand, had already decided it was time to go. He’d been there longer than planned, and staying any longer would mean admitting that something about all of this had gotten to him. And no thanks.

His feet carried him more by habit than conscious decision. There were too many reasons to leave and zero to stay. Routine was all he knew, and even though tonight had been different, it wasn’t going to break him out of it.

He was adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder when he saw you.

Just a glimpse at first, a figure half-lost in the shadows. His brain told him to keep walking, but something made him stop. His gaze, which usually avoided lingering on anyone, locked onto yours, and he couldn’t look away. There was something in your eyes—an intensity mixed with calm, a contradiction that somehow matched the chaos of the world around you. For a moment—and for the second time that night—everything else disappeared.

The moonlight brushed against you in soft streaks, just enough to outline your figure and amplify that aura around you, that thing that couldn’t be named but demanded attention. It wasn’t just the way your hair fell or the relaxed posture you held, marked with an almost defiant confidence. It was how you occupied space, like the night itself bent to fit around you.

Simply beautiful.

Seiya wasn’t the type to get caught up in someone else’s gaze. His life was built on walls no one got through, and he liked it that way. But this time, the walls didn’t go up. This time, it felt like there was no “before” or “after”—just the moment you both shared in that exact second.

“Escaping the noise too?” you asked, your voice slicing through the quiet with a mix of curiosity and challenge.

Seiya tilted his head slightly, his eyes still fixed on you like he was trying to figure you out. “Something like that. Though some people seem… fascinated by it.”

You let out a small laugh, leaning forward just enough to signal you were sizing him up too. “So, are you the type who watches from a distance, or do you like to be part of the show?”

“Depends,” Seiya replied, his tone dry but laced with humor. “Which one causes less trouble?”

You raised an eyebrow, a half-smile curving your lips. “Well, you stuck around till the end. Maybe you’re more part of the show than you like to admit.”

Seiya exhaled sharply through his nose, the slightest betrayal of amusement flickering across his face. “Seemed less pathetic to stay than to leave halfway through,” he shot back, his tone flat, though his stance betrayed the cracks in his indifference.

Your laugh came again, the kind that felt deeper than it sounded, carrying a weight of genuine amusement. “You’ve got a real talent for making a completely normal decision sound like a personal tragedy.”

Seiya turned his head slightly, eyeing you with a mix of disbelief and faint amusement. Is this really what we’re doing right now? “I just keep expectations low,” he countered, like it would somehow help him regain footing in the exchange.

You tilted your head, faking a thoughtful expression. “Smart move. Too bad you watched the show—that kind of ruins the whole ‘not interested’ vibe you’ve got going.”

He clicked his tongue but couldn’t stop the slight smirk tugging at his lips. Alright. She’s good at this. “I don’t like leaving without knowing how something ends. Call it professional curiosity.”

“Professional, huh?” you shot back, your smile playful, almost feline, your eyes gleaming with genuine yet calculated interest. “Alright then, Simon Cowell, what’s your verdict? Did we survive the ring, or did they let us stay because kicking us out would’ve been more effort?”

Seiya, amused by the nickname, stifled a laugh and tilted his head slightly, pretending to think, his face the picture of neutrality. “It was... a decent attempt. I was this close to telling them never to let you back, but I figured I’d be generous.”

You raised an eyebrow, your smile stretching just a fraction. “Wow. Thanks for your mercy. A true act of generosity.”

Seiya shook his head, trying to mask the humor flickering in his eyes, but it was no use—she’d already seen through it. Alright, I can play along, he thought, rolling his shoulders slightly to loosen the tension he hadn’t realized he was holding.

You stretched lazily, shaking off the remnants of adrenaline still humming in your muscles from the performance. Then, without warning, you turned slightly toward him, your energy calm yet charged with intent.

You didn’t push him. Didn’t stare like you were expecting some dramatic confession. You just looked at him, studied him, like you could see past the walls he’d spent years perfecting. The sensation sent a quiet electric shock down his spine. Shit. I liked that.

Finally, he let out a short sigh—the kind that marked a partial surrender. “It wasn’t bad.”

Satisfied, you laughed softly, the sound short but triumphant. “That’s probably the closest thing to a compliment you’ve given all night.”

Seiya shook his head, planting his hands on his hips as his lips curled into a laugh he couldn’t quite contain. “A compliment? Wow, sweetheart, if that’s your standard, someone needs to get you into a crash course.”

You didn’t hold back your own laughter, the entire exchange skirting the edge of ridiculous yet undeniably charming. “A crash course? Oh, please. Tell me you’re not volunteering to teach it, because with that level of compliments, I can already guess the syllabus: Lesson one—How to Be Barely Acceptable.”

He dropped his gaze to the ground, shaking his head and biting his tongue lightly to keep from grinning too widely. When his eyes lifted to meet yours again, the glint in them was mischievous.

“What do you want? More elaborate compliments?” he said, his voice dry but laced with a quiet challenge. “Hate to break it to you, but those aren’t part of the basic package. If you want the deluxe, you’re gonna have to work a little harder.”

One eyebrow shot up, incredulous but amused. This was shaping up to be more entertaining than you’d expected. Crossing your arms over your chest, you tilted your chin up, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, really? So that’s your way of asking me to come around here more often? Kind of an odd approach, I’ll admit, but hey, it's fair.”

Seiya let out a short laugh, more a sharp exhale through his nose than a real sound, as he raised his chin slightly, meeting your gaze with a mix of steady defiance and a flicker of arrogance. His posture stayed loose—relaxed, shoulders barely leaning back, as if the entire conversation was a game he already knew how to win.

You noticed that careful confidence radiating off him, and something inside you stirred—a spark of intrigue laced with amusement. You tilted your head slightly, matching his calm intensity, studying him like you were deciding whether to give him the edge in this verbal duel. His smile, which had started as just a hint, grew wider, slower, more dangerous—like a playful threat.

Seiya broke eye contact for a moment, letting the silence stretch like it belonged to him, before looking back at you, his eyes glowing with something balanced between quiet certainty and effortless magnetism.

“Who said I was asking?” he repeated, his tone light enough to seem casual, but sharp enough to leave no room for doubt.

You feigned a gasp, your eyes never leaving his. “Oh, my bad. I thought I caught a trace of vulnerability there for a second. But of course, I should’ve known—definitely not your style.”

He leaned forward slightly, just enough to bring his presence closer without crossing the line into invasive.

“I’m just stating the obvious,” he added, letting the pause between his words hang in the air like a taunt. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he raised an eyebrow and let a faint, almost imperceptible smirk play on his lips. “You’ll be back.”

Both your eyebrows lifted this time, as if you were genuinely surprised, but your smile sharpened—an edge to it now, like someone who’d silently accepted the challenge without needing to declare it. Your arms stayed crossed, your back pressing into the wall like you’d decided to settle in and enjoy the show.

“I’ll be back, huh?” you repeated, letting his words hang provocatively in the space between you. “I’d love to hear your argument if you weren’t so… desperate to convince me.” Your tone danced between disbelief and playful mockery, your gaze locked onto his like you’d just uncovered something fascinating. “For someone who claims they stayed till the end out of courtesy, you seem awfully invested in whether or not I return.”

As you spoke, a slow smile curved your lips—the kind that said you were enjoying calling him out but leaving him just enough room to fire back. Come on, impress me. Show me you can keep up, you thought, studying every subtle shift in his expression.

Seiya’s eyes narrowed just slightly, as if weighing each word before throwing it back. His smile unfolded with deliberate ease, a brief flicker that didn’t bother hiding how amused he was by your comment.

“Awfully invested?” he repeated with mock surprise, his voice dripping with irony but tinged with something warmer—almost flirtatious. He stepped closer, the movement slow and impossibly smooth, closing the gap between you with the kind of ease that felt calculated. “Well, if something doesn’t add up, maybe you’re looking in the wrong place. Maybe the problem isn’t my interest—maybe it’s how much you’re thinking about it.”

The spark in your eyes brightened, a silent challenge reflected in your expression. Your smile turned mischievous, and you leaned in just enough to shrink the space he’d bridged, meeting him head-on.

“Oh, sure,” you said softly, your tone bordering on conspiratorial. “Blame the observer. Interesting tactic. But if you’re so good at pointing out other people’s flaws, why not start with your own? Because, so far, it looks like you’re enjoying this way more than you’d ever admit.”

Seiya let out a quiet laugh, though this time it carried something different. It wasn’t any less playful, but it felt more restrained, like part of him had decided to pump the brakes without drawing too much attention to it.

“You know, Star,” he said, his voice infused with that signature light irony of his, “for someone who keeps insisting they’re not interested, you seem pretty dedicated to challenging me.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly, your smile sharpening with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Star?” you repeated, letting the word hang between you like you were deciding whether to accept or reject the nickname outright.

Seiya tilted his head, unhurried, clearly savoring the moment.

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed, as though no further explanation was needed. Then he let loose a lazy smile, one loaded with intention. “You shine. You draw attention. And admit it—you love being the center of the stage.”

You let out a low chuckle, dropping your arms and resting them behind you.

“Well, aren’t you poetic,” you said with mock innocence. “But tell me—is that an observation or a veiled compliment?”

Seiya held your gaze, his smirk sharpening just enough to reveal the glint of a challenge. “I’ll let you figure that one out.”

And there it was again—that flicker of intrigue that lit up his dark gaze. It was the spark that had kept you engaged, responding to every word he threw your way, keeping you entertained in his presence longer than you’d intended. It was curious, striking, unique. Though, of course, you’d never admit that out loud—least of all to him.

His confidence was fascinating, sure, but you weren’t about to fan the flames of his ego. Not yet.

“You know,” you began, your tone playful but sharp, “I appreciate that you at least care about putting on a show. It’s the least I’d expect from someone with an ego the size of yours.”

Seiya let out a theatrical sigh. “There you go again with the ego. It’s fascinating how that’s always the first thing you go for—like you’re trying to convince me of something. Do you want me humble, or do you just enjoy the effort?”

You grinned, unapologetic. “Convince? Not really. That’s your job—you seem pretty good at it. I’m just saying you’ll keep thinking you’re irresistible no matter what, so I might as well make use of it.”

“That sounds like a confession. Careful, Star, you might end up admitting you find me charming,” he teased, arching his brows, his smirk lazy but razor-sharp.

You laughed, placing a hand over your chest. “Let’s not exaggerate. Pleasant? Maybe. Entertaining? Sure. Stubborn and in denial? Absolutely. Charming…? Let’s stick with ‘interesting.’”

Seiya pretended to mull it over, then snapped his fingers. “I’ll take it. ‘Interesting’ has potential—kinda mysterious, kinda promising. I’m keeping it.”

The air between you still vibrated with that magnetic tension neither of you seemed willing to break. You looked at him with a mix of amusement and scrutiny, enjoying how, even in his apparent ease, he kept that edge in every word.

He was... interesting. The way he played without losing too much ground, balancing sass with caution, like someone who wanted to dive in but kept one foot on the shore. Curious, you thought. Is he always like this, or is it just with me?

A mystery worth unraveling, wasn’t it?

Straightening up slightly, you kept that fierce yet effortless energy wrapped around you. “Maybe I should keep coming back. Who knows—maybe you’ll outdo my ‘interesting’ expectations and prove you actually know how to give a decent compliment.”

“And maybe you’ll prove you really don’t need them, Star,” he shot back, his tone lighter, more amused now. Touché.

The two of you stayed there, caught in that small bubble the rest of the city seemed to have forgotten. Neither of you moved right away; neither filled the air with needless chatter. It was simple—but not empty. There was something about sharing this space, this moment, that left a mark, like the universe had decided this wasn’t just a random encounter.

The silence wasn’t awkward—it felt like a third participant in your interaction, filling the gaps with everything left unsaid. The words you traded were charged with double meanings, but it wasn’t just the words that carried the moment. It was the details: the way Seiya tilted slightly forward when he spoke, the gleam in your eyes when you responded, the calculated pauses both of you seemed to have mastered.

The closeness between you wasn’t overwhelming—it was just enough to make every movement, every gesture, carry weight. A challenge in itself, a game where neither of you was willing to back down, but neither was rushing forward too quickly. The air felt charged, brimming with unspoken possibilities and unacknowledged expectations.

This balance—between heat and control, between hidden intensity and playful banter—was what made the moment so unique. Neither of you had crossed any lines, but you both knew you were toeing the edge, and that edge was enough to keep you hooked in the game.

“Maybe,” he finally said, his grin small but almost conspiratorial. “And just maybe, if you skip the Glam Metal in your next set, you might actually score higher with me.”

The comment hung in the air, trailing his laid-back but deliberate tone. You raised a hand, cutting off any incoming replies, before leaning slightly to one side, adopting a theatrically relaxed posture.

“Glam Metal, huh? What’s the deal, Cowell? Not a fan of the genre?” you shot back, raising a single eyebrow with exaggerated surprise.

Seiya paused for a moment, feigning serious consideration, then shook his head. “Too much flash. Too much hairspray,” he admitted flatly.

You puckered your lips in faux disappointment before they curved into a conspiratorial smirk. “Shame. Guess I’ll have to work on changing that.”

One of his brows arched, curious and slightly amused. “Oh? That desperate to get a better compliment out of me? Ambitious, Star.”

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes, but the playful smile stayed firmly in place. “I just like a good challenge, that’s all. Maybe the mistake was making you feel important,” you retorted, narrowing your eyes with a teasing edge. “You just focus on staying interesting, and it might work out better for you.”

Seiya let out a disbelieving but thoroughly satisfied laugh—this was all turning out so much better than he’d expected. It outshined any expectations that might’ve crossed his mind from the second your gazes had locked.

The night felt like it was slowly wrapping itself around you both, but neither of you seemed quite ready to call it quits. The conversation hadn’t been mere banter—it was a challenge, a duel camouflaged in playful sparring.

But now the challenge was unmistakably on the table. The promise of a next encounter lingered in the air, and though neither of you said it aloud, you both knew this wouldn’t be the last time you shared the same stage.

“You definitely have a flair for the dramatic,” he said at last, his crooked smile settling firmly as he stepped back, deliberately creating distance. “Just don’t let it go to your head when you find out I’m easier to impress than I look.”

“Easy? Ow, and here I thought I’d found a challenge,” you complained, dropping your shoulders in mock disappointment. “Guess I’ll take comfort in the fact you just admitted you’re easy to impress. Takes the pressure off.”

Seiya took another step back, raising both hands in faux surrender, though the spark in his eyes said he wasn’t done yet. “Ah, don’t mistake honesty for weakness, Star. I’m just setting the stage for what comes next.”

You watched as he stepped further away, the reality sinking in that your paths would soon split again. Somewhere deep inside, a part of you wished you could stretch this moment just a little longer, that fate might conspire in your favor and keep him there. But another part of you buzzed with excitement for what was ahead—the anticipation of everything you’d both silently promised would happen next time.

You might’ve been about to part ways, but you carried the unspoken certainty of meeting again.

“How thoughtful,” you called out before he could leave, crossing your arms. “I just hope your memory’s as good as you claim. Wouldn’t want you forgetting your own words.”

Seiya paused to give you one last glance, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he walked further away. “What’s this? Doubting how unforgettable you are? Where’d all that confidence go, sweetheart?” he teased, finishing with a wink that lit a slow fire in your chest. “Relax, though—it wouldn’t be so easy to forget something like this, Star.”

Finally, he turned his back and continued on his way. His words left a strange flutter in your stomach, one you couldn’t quite pin down. Surprise, butterflies, or the leftover cold pizza you’d scarfed down before hitting the stage—any of those could’ve been the culprit.

What you did know was that this guy, with his disheveled charm and effortless aloofness, carried something—a something—that pulled at you, like opposite poles of a magnet. He was interesting, you hadn’t been lying about that. There was something about him that kept you on edge, intrigued, drawn in. It was too soon to jump to conclusions, though—you’d need more than a teasing smile and a challenging gaze to figure out what was really going on.

And of course, you were willing to find out.

The space itself seemed to hold on to a piece of you both, a spark that hadn’t quite fizzled out. Neither of you had fully realized it yet—not entirely. The connection was there, subtle, just an idea flickering at the edges of your thoughts, shapeless but persistent. And yet, you both felt it: there was something in the air tonight, something that made the moment resonate longer and louder than expected.

At first, you’d been full of doubts. Something about this place hadn’t quite clicked with what you wanted to project. Was the crowd the right fit? Would this gig be worth it? You’d considered keeping it simple, not overcomplicating things in a venue that didn’t entirely feel like yours.

And then, suddenly, it wasn’t about the place or even the music anymore. It was the challenge, the meeting of minds, the chemistry that seemed to weave itself into the air in so little time. Now, the idea of avoiding this place didn’t even cross your mind. Instead, you found yourself searching for a reason to come back. The venue hadn’t changed, but the reason had.

For Seiya, nights like this always seemed fleeting. They started with a clear purpose: keep moving, don’t put down roots, don’t linger longer than necessary. Sticking around hadn’t been his plan; in fact, he hadn’t even seen the point in staying.

But something shifted when he heard you, when he saw you in that ring. Your sharp comebacks, your mischievous smile, your gaze, your energy. It hadn’t just kept him alert—it made him wonder, What if I stayed a little longer? Every word exchanged with you etched itself into his mind, not as a casual conversation, but as a spark that kept quietly fueling a fire within him. It wasn’t the place, the music, or the moment. It was you.

Both of you, from your own angles, had landed on the same realization: the other had turned an otherwise forgettable night into something that refused to fade. The early doubts—about staying, or even coming back—had been erased by the constant charge of your interaction.

Seiya, someone who avoided looking back as much as possible, had found a reason to hold onto the memory. And you, someone who never let a place dictate your presence, now had a reason to return—and it wasn’t the lights or the stage.

The contrast between where you’d both started and where you’d ended was unmistakable. That invisible connection, like an unseen bridge built with each word, each glance, kept you tethered. And though neither of you would admit it out loud, you both knew this wasn’t a connection that would easily fade.

You’d always believed true connections didn’t happen instantly—that they lingered, spread, took root. But maybe, just maybe, this was the exception. Maybe it still needed time to grow, to catch fire, but the spark was there.

And sometimes, all it takes is a spark to start a wildfire.

[cryptid-creature]

I'm begging the world for anyone really I've like legit run out of it to read please for the love of God someone write more Pegasus x reader I'm dying here ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

I'm gonna die if I don't get more I swear it's been years lemme at that man ෆ⁠╹⁠ ⁠.̮⁠ ⁠╹⁠ෆ

[blue-sadie]

Flash Of Lightning

Imagine:

Sienna is not the only God reincarnation and as they were looking for his sister they stumbled across you one of seiya's childhood friends and he never admitted it his first love, your cosmos about to burst and the things around you disintegrating as your light grows stronger.

"yn listen to me please you have to calm down, I know it's alot and I know it hurts but please do it for me I can't lose you again I won't lose you again, please this isn't you, I love you and do everything in my power to help you but you have to listen to me ok"

[m1ckeyb3rry]

bellerophon fic is so funny because thematically both reader and phainon are pegasus / bellerophon in their own ways but then like. pegasus himself is also there just chilling and being a horse and whatnot

[lime-sketches114]

Oh boi this weird fic has me in a grip and I am comfy lol. Well! Hope you guys like Chapter one!

★★★★★★★

GUARDIAN OF DOOM

Rating: swearing, mentions of blood, etc.

-Ch. 1-

Another sleepless night keeps me on the medical side of war. Like a chain upon my back I wish to break. Many seek my healing hands to cure the demonic inflicted wounds. I am but one woman. One who yearns to be free of the dungeon of Argent D’nur. To soar the skies again to one day reach my own goal.

My comms go silent to a special channel. One connected to the Slayer’s praetor helmet. Maykrs be damned of the jammer they've created or blocked. My words fall silent upon muffled ears. 

I chucked my communicator stock onto the messy worktable of my twin who was fiddling with guns and old mech parts.

“Woah hey! What's got your feathers in a twist huh?!” He huffed out as he caught it.

“What else….take a wild guess Felix” I cocked an eyebrow with a look in my eye.

“Still jammed huh” Felix took a puff of smoke from a homemade cigarette. “Figured, it's been a long time since he spoke, not even Gavin or Terri has heard him speak much apart from grunts. Like he's a fucking zombie or something haha”

“It's not funny Felix. I saw him that day and he was being controlled by the Maykrs, specifically Bishop Kreed!”

“Uh huh…”

“My guardian ceremony is soon and I want HIM to be there, not some drugged out play…thing!” I growled out a sigh.

“Listen Kat, the only way to fully get him out is if he gets himself out. that's asking a lot, I know but you can’t just use other magic willy nilly!” Felix waved his blunted hand around, the smoke drawing circles around him. “This ain't no damn fairytale where the dude is woken up by a beautiful princess with a kiss or something.”

“I know!!!” My eyes flashed purple before I realized my error and calmed down, “...I know”

“Stress is killer Sis” Felix chuckled.

“I'm not the one playing with big metal toys all day, I am drained of my healing magic constantly.”

“Har dee har!”

Then an alarm sounded of an impending Demon attack. I grabbed my gear and dropped my crystal close into my hand. This was my chance. One way or another I was gonna prove myself to you!

My tired body had enough juice for one more fight. Enough for my guardian armor to show off my true potential. I made my way to the battlefield as Commander Thira spotted me.

“What do you think you're doing, you're far too drained to be picking a fight with demons, Katerina. Your father gave me strict orders specifically for your Guardian Ceremony.” She grabbed my shoulder and spun me around with her strong grip.

“I'm going out there Thira, I have to get through to him. The Maykrs have used him. Possibly even using you to fight their battles.” I held my crystal upon my chest and chanted out. “Libertas Un Arcana”

A bright purple light shrouded my clothes to reveal my own set of armor similar to the Sentinel suit types I've seen. My glasses turn into a visor to help me calculate and read my levels. My magic level was about half way now thanks to the chant boost but I know my health wouldn't be stable. I had to act fast.

“You sure you alone can reach him? Last time we fought together other have reported him being eery and eyes clouded.” Thira held my hand. “What if he's no longer there due to the Maykr’s tether”

“Only one way to find out. I promise I'll try and not die out there. I know you'll have my back Thira. You and your father, King Novik, have been nothing but kind to my people.” I hugged her gently before departing. Weapon summoning in hand.

Thira nodded before touching two fingers to her ear, “clear a path for the Guardian, her target is the Slayer, no harm comes to both.”

★★★★★

The unholy hordes of demons were not a short sight. I morphed my staff into a halberd and fought with vigor and rage. I was running out of time. Staying out of the range of my other siblings was hard enough since I activated my guardian armor. I had speed on my side due to my boots and hard light wings helping me glide through each demon like butter.

I kept my eyes peeled for the Slayer. He works fast and efficiently I can tell you that. My health and magic were stable. I got knocked around a few times trying to dodge demons and other projectiles. I'm pretty rusty on my battles but I think I'm doing fine. The terrain was familiar afterall.

I heard huge gunshots raining out from a courtyard as screams followed. That must be him nearby. It has to be…

It all came crashing to a halt when an imp like demon came out and caught my foot and launched me into the courtyard. I tumbled hard onto the stone landscaping. I looked at my levels and I was almost in the red. I had to act fast. I dodged more onslaughts and cut them down easily with my weapon, now morphed into a sword and shield. Magic works wonders in quick situations but not all. Larger demons were now appearing and I was in deep shit now. I readied my sword to a big fat one before it was shot with holes, ripped into pieces by the wielder.

I whipped my head around and smiled. There he was. Thira was true about the reports. He didn't look normal. He was bigger, stronger, and looked like a lifeless sentry.

“Slayer!” I raised my voice to catch his attention. It worked because his reaction time was pinpoint and fast. His glowing lifeless eyes locked with mine. “Do you…remember me?” I spoke up as I deactivated my visor part of my headpiece.

Nothing. Not even a peep.

My long ears drooped with hopelessness. I walked forward to him, my hand on my crystal in nervousness. “Flynn? It's me, Katerina.”

Silence. 

I reached up to put my hand on his helmet before he grabbed my wrist. His eyes stern, gazing into mine like I've done a heinous act. My face twisted with pain and discomfort.

“It'll be ok, I am a healer, no need to be alarmed” my words rang out like a soft melody to soothe a lost child. His grip loosened enough for me to slip away and touch the helmet’s cheek. My aura tried to match his new one. The Maykrs aura felt inorganic and artificial. “What have they done to you…”

My other hand hovered over the tether binding him. It's technology and magic is far beyond my knowledge and Felix could possibly accidentally kill us all if it is a detonator or anything close to that. My hand tingled from the glowing golden lightning flooding out. I could feel it messing with my own body. I backed off before I could do damage. I turned away until I couldn't move, I turned to see the Slayer gripping my hand again like an instinct had moved his body. Was something surfacing now? Before I could say anything a wolf howl echoed in the distance as my brother, Gavin, came riding in on his golden umber wolf.

“Katerina! What are you doing here?! Somehow I picked up your signal when you're supposed to be under protection and watch. Mother will have your head if you came back injured!” Gavin scolded and scoffed as he slid off his saddle.

“Gavin! It's not what you think!” Gavin raised an eyebrow as his helmet turned into a headpiece, “….o-ok it is what you think” I sighed.

“Why chase the Slayer? He's the Maykr's now, stop this foolish pursuit” Gavin stepped closer.

“Um….I can't move” I looked at Gavin with an awkward smile, gesturing to the Slayer gripping my hand like a stone statue, its cold eyes deep in thought.

“Alright you roid raged God, let go of sister before I resort to something we'll both regret” Gavin’s tall figure looked in tandem with the Slayer's. It felt like two unmovable walls. The Slayer's gaze locked onto my brother's like it could kill him.

Their relationship was more warrior-like before he became the Slayer we know now. Being inaugurated into the Night Sentinels, they butted heads in many ways due to pride and skills. They were still friendly but sometimes it flies out the window when competition is pushed. Gavin probably doesn't harbor ill will to the Slayer but the way it made me sad the day the Maykr's took him away boiled something in his mind. Probably took it to heart too seriously in my opinion. It wasn't his fault.

It was like a family member was ripped from our pack. I vowed to protect and seek those who need it. I planned to uphold that end of the bargain, blood or no blood. He's still a pack member. We never leave family behind or forgotten.

“Stop it you two! We're family!” I deactivated my armor to my regalia so the grip wouldn't be too difficult to slip out of.

“He's an outsider from Earth, he doesn't fit in!” Gavin growled like a beast. The Slayer growled back.

“The ones that are outsiders are the Maykrs!” I growled at them both. “I wanted him at my guardian ceremony and now it's ruined by them! I came to get him back!” 

“How?! He's bound by them, tied up like a feral dog biting at the chains for its next meal” Gavin backed off the Slayer and pointed to his wolf mount, “Get on Argile before I make you”

“No!” I tell before struggling in his arms.

“Don't fight me Katerina!”

My arms were weak compared to his. Wasting away behind a wall to protect me. I'm tired of hiding, I'm tired of healing, I'm tired….so tired. My vision went black as I fell limp in my brother's arms. My nose was bleeding and my body felt like it was on fire. All I saw in what vision I had left was a golden glow before silence.

Not again…

[bae04xx]

this is so random but i’ve been rewatching harry potter so here you go x

platonic golden trio x pegasus rider reader head canons

• y/n grew up around pegasuses, having her own stables on the farm she lived on

•she was partially famous by the time she was 6, after completing in the young adults races, show jumping and dressage - and placing first in all 3 categories

•her talent was ridiculous, by age 8 she named the rider of the century, competing against anyone and anybody who dared to test her

•she was watched by the public eye, all anticipating when she’d been sent to a witching school, while her coming from an incredibly old pure blood line also made her quite well known, her riding skills made her and her family’s reputation boom

•when she first got her hogwarts letter she ecstatic, her mum had put her in magical tutoring since 5 so she would be far above anyone else, yet y/n wasn’t trusted with a wand while being so young, so she was taught spells with a flick of her wrist and by using the power of her words

•while her mum was happy for her, she was worried about her riding career, considering the boarding situation at hogwarts and how they lacked in a stables like theirs, or even a stables. but after sending a few owls to dumbledore he arranged something with hagrid

•while it wasn’t as posh as y/n was used to, hogwart’s stables had 3 new pegasus and 1 from her home. 1 of the new ones was fully bombproof while the other 2 needed breaking in, hagrid was now her new instructor- not that she needed 1

•while at her daily lessons, she ran into harry potter, ron weasley and hermione granger. a small, friendly group of gryffindor misfits

•while the group of 4 all looked up to hagrid, y/n was especially close with him, staying at his hut for hours on end, going on hacks, constant riding with him, he was like a father figure to her

•harry was her bestfriend, they instantly clicked, they both new what it was like to be misunderstood and idolised by others, while harry’s fame was more on the misfortunate side, they could still relate to the down falls of being in the public eye. y/n was harry’s rock, his go to girl, a shoulder to cry on, someone he could depend on, and he loved every second he spent with her

•hermione was someone y/n idolised, being her study buddy was a privilege y/n held so close to her heart, happy to show it off to anyone. they bonded over the fact that they both appreciated hard work, dedication and resilience. while one applied that to their studies and the other applied that to their career- they both understood each other

•ron was someone who was just a joy to be around, and y/n was so happy to be in his presence after a long day- just being around him was like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. his easy going attitude was nothing like the hard-core, crushing work she had to deal with everyday. his jokes and chilled attitude calmed her, and ron enjoyed watching her shoulders soften around him

[thedarkcircuswritings]

Part 5 Of Fancypants x Rockstar Pegasus Reader where he finally confessed to her at the Gala but fails successfully because he acted all silly when Reader was just there smiling brightly up at him as they waited for him to tell them his question

-🦄 Anon

You knew what was happening the moment Fancypants approached you at the Gala, his face covered in blush as he stammered out a hello, trying so hard to stay proper. He barely even managed to ask you if dating you was a possible option before you cut him off with a quick kiss. It took him long enough to do so, so the time for patience was very much over.

[nyxirrationalstories]

Hello it's me again since your request is open ( correct me if i wrong ) , may i've a request for saint Seiya. Seiya,hyoga,Shun, Ikki,shiryu ( classic saint Seiya ) .... With model fem s/o, please...S/o who thought their boyfriend was cosplaying when they accidentally passed by/were at the scene after their fight and screamed in Joy.

This is gonna be so funny.

Btw, how are you?! Where have you been

Yes, the ask is still open. I'm fine, I had my bad days, but I'm still me after all.

I've been busy with college, I had an emergency surgery last year, I got this tumblr "hacked" (I got in a fight with a friend, I took advantage of giving her the password and she deleted ask and drafts), I got a cat that I love very much and a few days ago I taught a literature class at a chemistry school.

So between good and bad, thanks for asking. I appreciate the courtesy.

I misunderstood the ask, but I recover with the last 2 knights. Sorry, I hope you like it.

Actually, the scenario sounds pretty funny and I can already imagine every single situation.

- Seiya

Let's imagine for a moment that the poor boy forgot to tell his S/o about his fight on behalf of Athena.

So when S/o walked into the room and saw him in his armor... she got a "Lois Lane". Her boyfriend a zodiac knight? Naaaah, impossible. Must be a pretty good cosplay.

She couldn't help but be thrilled at how well done, I mean, literally wearing armor to emulate a knight? Now that's love of art, the passion in this work... she couldn't help but express it to him.

Seiya was quite confused and embarrassed. I mean, he loved that his girlfriend showed so much passion in "looking for the details of the cosplay" but at the same time he felt that not only did he owe her the truth but he didn't deserve those compliments because he hadn't even made the armor.

Unfortunately, every time he tried, the redder his face felt. He couldn't take that joy away from her, not yet.

- Hyoga

Here the reason I didn't say he was a zodiac knight is because he is too reserved and aloof about some things.

And Camus, especially Camus. Moreover, you just knew that Hyoga trained to be stronger alone. Camus only knew that Hyoga went to nearby villages to "read and train his mind". You both suspected certain lies, but Hyoga was living up to "expectations" so there was no problem?

So when you saw him in his armor in the dead of winter... you couldn't help but put several blankets and a coat on him. Hyoga was quite surprised and touched, it had been a long time since anyone had taken care of him like that.

As a cosplayer model, you told him that you were proud of his dedication and success in his costume, as his girlfriend "what were you thinking? It's so cold, you might get hypothermia".

Hyoga didn't correct you, it was better that you thought (for now) that this was just a costume and that he was a "handsome fool" who wanted to surprise you.

With you by your side, winter felt like spring.

- Shun

I think Shun never said anything because of the danger you might be in, I mean, look what happened to Ikki's girlfriend.

However, unlike the others, Shun might even go so far as to play along: photos, short videos, even do a little roleplaying to make your moment of joy turn into fun and euphoria.

It was quite an interesting afternoon until he took you by the hands and had to tell you the truth. And well, as the meme goes, "at first Ego thought it was a joke, but as Lingüini explained to him Ego's smile disappeared".

Next thing Shun knew, your next cosplay would be "The Knight of Andromeda" and that you would always support him no matter what.

Bonus: In the Hades saga, even though you were worried after everything that happened, Shun gave you the clothes that Hades used so you could cosplay.

- Ikki

I think Ikki needs no explanation as to why he didn't tell you he is a zodiac knight.

So after a successful fight and with all his buddies safe... he never thought he would stumble upon one of your photo shoots.

On the one hand, he was quite happy that you were fine and having fun. On the other hand, he had to put up with the teasing from his classmates and brother. Either with comments or Shun and Seiya posing for your photos. They even forced him to take a group photo for one of your stories.

For more "fun" the fools commented on the story, "praising" the cosplay. And you were responding with immense joy at how your boyfriend was "quite skilled at cosplay, just like his friends and brother".

Ikki vowed revenge, each of them would pay for their crime. Except for you and Shun, you guys were okay.

- Shiryu

I think Shiryu was honest from the beginning, but maybe you didn't believe him from the start. The other is that there was so much work that the detail completely slipped your mind.

So when you praised his cosplay, Shiryu mito you confused, but he appreciated the praise to his uniform. That's when reality hit you again and you could only feel your cheeks burning, hiding your face in your hands and whispering a "sorry".

Shiryu just smiled and stroked your head, telling you it was okay. Until Seiya said that his costume was better for cosplay, to which Ikki told him it was "simple and insipid". Thus starting a fight of "Which armor was better for cosplaying?"

Bonus:

Saori watched happily as you tried on the ancient robes of the Goddess Athena. She didn't have the heart to tell you that it wasn't a cosplay, nor to refuse to let you try them on.

She even put on the ornaments she herself would wear. You were her goddess of love, just as Ares had Aphrodite, she had you.

Saori was happy that you didn't know she was Athena, because you loved Saori Kido, who she really was. There was no duty, no quest for power, not that you liked the "Saori, the rich girl" part either. She was very grateful that Jabu had forgiven her for her mistreatment. Although now he kept teasing her about her "next cosplay".

[straykidsnerd255]

Yo Hello, could you make a scenario of the Bronze Knights of Saint Seiya? In which they had a couple when they were in the Kido mansion but they were separated to take them to training and they meet again in the galactic tournament.

Fluff and that the boys as children act like children in the romance because I have read some that do not seem like childrenI. hope my English is understood.

teamavatar13 asked:

I forgot to mention that it's a GN reader 😅

I am gonna assume that these are the same person, but I hope that you enjoy nonetheless. Thanks for requesting and I apologize for taking so long to write these out! Little side note, the reader will be a normal civilian but will have tickets to see the tournament in person. 

a/n: they had childish interactions with the reader just before they were sent to be trained, but doesn’t go into full depths of childness

Seiya(Pegasus): You and Seiya were always running around in the backyard of the Kido mansion. Laughter falling from your mouth as Seiya chased after you, a bright smile on his face. This was the first time you had seen him like this since the disappearance of his sister. Seiya managed to catch up to you and tackled you to the ground. You both looked at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter again. “Seiya, it's time to train for the day. Tell your friend to leave.” One of the Kido mansion guards hissed before turning around and walking back into the house. Seiya groaned and looked at you. “I’m sorry but you have to leave now. We can try and play tomorrow though!” He said, patting your head and waited til you had left the backyard and rounded the corner. 

Years had passed and you hadn’t heard from him since. You didn’t even get to play with him the next day like he had promised. As you waited for his return or for him to find you and ask to hang out, a letter appeared in your mailbox stating you had front row to the Galactic Tournament. You stared at the ticket but decided that you should go. You just hoped that you would see your boyfriend again, but, with his childish side still there. You entered the massive domed stadium and found it nearly packed to the brim with excited fans. You were not really a fan of the fighting but you did hope to see your beloved boyfriend. Yes, you and Seiya and decided that he would be your boyfriend the very moment you both met. 

Sitting in your seat, your breath left your body in a second. Your eyes widened as you saw your boyfriend standing in the ring, a not so happy look on his face. You had to quell the immediate desire to rush down to the ring and throw yourself at your boyfriend. You hadn’t seen him in so long that your heart began to pound at just the sight of him. He had grown taller, had a more chiseled look about his face, but his eyes remained the same from your childhood. They were wide, and childish. Seiya looked around the arena, annoyed that he was even here. The moment he came back home, he just wanted to find you and bury himself in your embrace. As his eyes scanned the crowd, his eyes stopped on the one person he had been dying to see again. You, staring at him, the biggest smile on your face. You lifted your arm and waved frantically at him. Seiya couldn’t stop himself. He ran out of the ring, and rushed to where you were sitting, his eyes beginning to shine brightly as he rushed over to your side. His laughter rang out and his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest.

“You’re here! I was just about to escape this place to find you.” Seiya said, cupping your face in his hands and swiping his nose over yours. You giggled as the small gesture made your heart warm up. When he backed away, you couldn’t help but laugh as he began to jump around like he was just 7 years old again. You smiled warmly as he cheered and laughed and jumped around. You were happy to have him back in your life. He was everything you needed. “Do your best Seiya!” You yelled out, pressing your hand to your lips and sending him a kiss. He smiled and caught the kiss, pressing it to his lips before waving to you and walking back to the arena center.

Shiryu(Dragon): Shiryu doesn’t show his childish side to anyone, even if he is a child. He doesn’t trust people not to make fun of him. That was until he met you. You were the same age as him but you excluded childish behavior. You were your childish self whenever you were around him. The day he showed you his childish side, you had sparkles in your eyes and you were smiling so widely at him that he thought your face was gonna fall off or melt. You begged him to always be his childish self but he wasn’t too keen on showing it to anyone else other than you. You pouted, but understood where he was coming from. You made a promise that if he did show his childish side to the others, and they made fun of him, you could come and beat everyone up.

He thought about what you had said and found himself showing off his childish side while being around the other kids. They never said anything about his childish antiques coming out to play, knowing full well someone was watching them. When Shiryu went to see you again, you were all smiles. “I did it Y/n!” He said. You raised an eyebrow before it clicked. “You showed off your childish side?!” You said, watching as the boy before nodded his head in excitement. “Yeah, no one even made fun of me either!” He said, his smile only getting bigger as he jumped up and down. You were just as happy and jumped around with him. Shiryu was called by a tall male that was stationed outside of the building telling him it was time for training.

Before long, you and Shiryu grew up and he ended up going to China to get the dragon cloth therefore he had to leave you and the rest of his friends behind. You had said goodbye the night before he was sent off but the tears were falling before you could even get the words out. Shiryu knew what you wanted to say but it still felt unreal that he was leaving you. He pulled you into a hug and confessed his feelings to you right then and there. You could feel your heart racing at his words before leaning in and kissing him as your answer. You both stayed with each other talking about your feelings before you left as the sun began to rise. 

The day Shiryu came back from China with the dragon cloth, you could tell there was a different air about him. The childish nature that he had when you both were kids, was gone. He never had a smile on his face. It was always cold and calculating. You found your seat in the arena and noticed Shiryu standing in the middle of the arena. Cupping your hands over your mouth, you called out Shiryu’s name and watched with amusement as Shiryu’s head shot up at the sound of your voice. He looked around for where your voice came from so you raised your hand and waved. When his eyes locked on you, he rushed from his spot and ran towards you. When he reached you, his arms wrapped around you and pulled you into a tight hug. “I missed you.” He whispered, his smile appearing on his lips before leaning down and kissed you. You smiled into the kiss before he pulled away, told you he would talk with you after the match, and promised he would never leave you alone again.

Shun(Andromeda): Shun never really had many friends other than his brother and a select four other kids. He was always shy and didn’t really talk that much to others but when you appeared in his life, Shun watched as his whole world flipped upside down. You would always greet him with a bright smile. You would tell him about your day and would even act more childish than you age when you and Shun were just by yourselves. Shun slowly began to open up to you and allowed his childish side to show. He tended to be a little more clingy than childish when around you or his brother and friends but you never thought anything of it. Actually, you liked that Shun was a little more clingy to you. 

One day, Shun came to you in tears. You sat with him as he explained that he had to go somewhere far away to earn a cloth that would help him. He told you that he needed to go to a place called Andromeda Island and began to tell you everything that he was told. As he spoke, Shun noticed the sparkles and the wide eyed star you were giving him. Shun felt his heart thump against his chest as he studied your face for a moment before shaking his head and turning to look past your face. You told him that you believed in him and that you wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. You would wait for him for as long as he was gone. That made Shun smile before he was called back into the training room.

It didn’t take long before Shun was gone. He didn’t even get to tell you goodbye or how he felt about you. He found himself crying almost every night he was there. However, he soon found himself forgetting why he was crying and began to throw himself into training to get the Andromeda cloth. He could feel his body growing in strength as he trained and before long, he was on his way back to the Kido mansion with the Andromeda cloth in hand. As he reached the mansion, he remembered your sweet face, your gentle smile and now was so happy he was back home. He wanted to go and try to find you but he had no idea where you lived or if you lived in an orphanage. 

It didn’t take long for him to find that out. He was told it was his turn in the arena at the Tournament and here he was, spinning around looking at the full seats and the cheering fans. As he looked around, his eyes landed on a familiar face. Your eyes caught his and a smile spread across your face. You waved your hands like you did when you were a child and screamed his name, cheering loudly. He smiled and walked over to where you were sitting. You leaned down so your face was close to his. He knew he was blushing but you didn’t say anything. All you did was lean forward and press your lips to his. He felt his eyes widen and his heart pounding in his chest. Shun absolutely loved you. You were such a special person to him and the fact that you kissed him, made him realise that you were definitely a person he was willing and wanted to protect. He took your hands in his and rubbed his thumb or the top of your hand. “We can talk and catch up when I finish my match. Don’t leave before I can see you.” Shun said, not wanting to slip his hands from yours but the ref had called for him.

Ikki(Phoenix): Ikki was forced to grow up faster than a child should have too when his parents died(?). He was the only person that Shun had in his life and Ikki would be damned if he couldn’t protect his baby brother. When Ikki met you for the first time, he didn’t like your childish personality. He thought it was really annoying but the more he hung out with you, the more his childish nature began to rub off on him. He started to laugh more, smile more. You grinned as he played tag with his younger brother and a few other boys. You could see that his inner child was starting to heal making you all fluttery inside. 

You and Ikki began to grow close to each other and before long, Ikki had fallen in love with you. You were the first person to pull his childish nature out and heal his inner child, but you were also the first person that stayed with Ikki even while he was being difficult. You also had fallen for Ikki and loved everything about him. You were proud of him when he took his brother’s spot and was told he would be going to Death Queen island to gain the Phoenix cloth. Training took up most of Ikki’s time and it irritated him beyond belief. He wanted to spend time with you. He had asked you out the day before he found out where he was going to get his cloth.

As Ikki was on the island, everything happened so fast, he was training with his master and then he was standing over his master's lifeless body. He couldn’t understand what had changed for him but he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting back to the tournament and taking the gold cloth for himself. He found what were called black saints and made them his lacky’s. He returned to the tournament and greeted everyone by shattering the lights and scaring the fans out of the building. The other saints were ready to attack when they were attacked first before being able to do anything. You watched from your spot in the stands, your hand over your mouth but you spoke anyway.

“Ikki?” Freezing just a few inches from the gold cloth, Ikki’s head whipped towards the area you were sitting in. His heart thumped loudly in his chest. He slowly turned away from the gold cloth and walked towards the sound of your voice. “Y/n? Is that you?” Ikki’s voice stuttered out when he felt your hands reach for his. You huffed out a small laugh before standing up and smiling. “It is me. What are you doing though?” You asked, not sure why he was trying to take the prize before actually participating in the tournament. Ikki swallowed the lump that filled his throat but, taking a deep breath, he decided that he was done. He shooed the black saints off and watched as the lights soon came back on. The phoenix cloth was brilliant, causing you to slip your hands from Ikki’s and run your fingers over the shinny brilliance of the cloth. “This is beautiful. Do you know or remember how it was made?” You asked. Ikki shook his head. You pouted but you didn’t mind. You had Ikki back so that’s all that matters to you.

Hyoga(Cygnus): Hyoga had met you when he and the other children were outside playing for a while. He got to know you and found himself liking the childish nature you seemed to show off. You were always hyper, jumping around and talking so fast that he had to ask you to slow down and restart every now and then when you spoke. Hyoga noticed how he slowly began to change. He was starting to get more hyper, more talkative. Everyday was now exciting when you would come over. Both you and Hyoga got closer as the days flew by. Before long, Hyoga started to gain feelings for you. He knew that before he had to start training, he would need to tell you how he felt about you. When you came over the next day, Hyoga was already waiting for you, a goofy smile on his lips and a spark in his eyes. You watched as he turned to face you. “Y/n, I really like you. I want to date you.” He said bluntly. 

Your eyes widened but you smiled. You had a crush on him for a while but you were afraid to say anything because you didn’t want him to hate you and stop hanging out with you. You excitedly said that you liked him too. You moved closer to him before leaning forward and pressing your lips to his and smiling when he practically melted into the kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you to his chest, holding you tightly but not super tightly. You giggled into the kiss before laying your head against his chest to catch your breath.  “That was really nice.” You mumbled, closing your eyes for a moment. Hyoga humming in agreement. 

Ever since you both confessed to each other, you would always come by to steal kisses or just to watch him train. Hyoga loved every minute of it. The day he was given the location of the Cygnus cloth, he came to see you. He took your hands in his and held them close to his chest. He explained what he needed to do and that he would be gone for a while. He told you that he had to travel to Russia to get a cloth needed by the Kido family. He told you that there would be a tournament that he would be participating in when he came back with the cloth. Hyoga asked if you would be at the tournament when he returned and you immediately nodded your head. You told him that you would be there for him no matter what.

The day Hyoga returned with the cloth had mentioned, he looked more serious, calculating. You missed the childish version of him from years ago. However, you sat in your seat with a smile on your face because he was home. He was finally back after years of being in Russia training for the cloth he was now wearing. You cupped your hands over your mouth and called out his name. Hyoga’s head snapped towards you and a giant smile appeared on his face. He stopped talking with the others standing near him as he ran over to you. He took your hands in his and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “You came.” He whispered. You smiled softly. “Of course I did. I told you I would. You are finally back.” You whispered the last part before leaning forward and pressing your lips to Hyoga’s. He returned the kiss before being called back over by the ref. “Wait for me after the tournament.” He whispered before leaving and moving back to the arena. You were so proud of Hyoga. So so proud of him.

[alice-angel12x]

Born of Unknown Stardust Art concepts

High Elder Angel Concept Arts. These guys will play a small role in the story. Here are the main ones.

Zaphreal Is the Highest Angel who started the Earth project and asked for the helping hands of his fellow angels to help him.

He was tasked by Zaphreal to create food for all the living creatures that would live on the face of the earth. But outside of that, they are a record keeper of all human life.

Inias was tasked by Zaphreal to create the animals of the World. Outside of that, he is in charge of the protection of Heaven. He is unaware of the "exorcist" under Adam.

[lady-of-tearshed]

Helion masterlist

Incoming...

Helion taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @horneybeach1

Artists credits:

Madsochield

Fissart

theclever.crow

[kathybluecaller]

I just think they’re neat :]