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cryoculus · 26 days ago

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— TRACK 04: GUILTY ⟢

aidonia is in the rearview, and the future is yours to take. but as your connections with the band deepen further, you find yourself toeing across the boundaries of what should and shouldn't be.

★ featuring; mydei x f!reader

★ word count; 8.5k words

★ tags; rock band au, found family, hostile acquaintances to friends to lovers, grief/mourning, angst, slow burn, eventual smut

★ notes; hi <3 i was supposed to have this up on here yesterday, but real life got in the way and i completely forgot lol!! as always, thank you saur much for the reception of the previous chapters!! really warms my heart.

★ header art cr; sarhiyu on x & ig

TRACKLIST ✧ READ ON AO3

The signal came back sometime that evening.

First as a faint flicker of bars, then solid enough to get a call out. Aglaea stepped out to contact the label the moment she was able, her voice tight but professional as she recounted everything for the higher-ups back home. Power followed not long after, humming back to life in a blink that felt both underwhelming and miraculous. The flickering panic of the blackout gave way to a tired kind of normal.

The show in Aidonia was officially pulled. There was no way to reschedule when the roads are covered in snow, and fans were promised full refunds. Tribbios handled most of the damage control, coordinating with local venues and media to get ahead of speculation. Come morning, the snow had let up a little, but it was enough for you all to get a move on.

None of you talked about what had happened in Tribbios’ suite.

By the time the tour bus rumbled back to life and pulled out from the frost-stiffed hotel parking lot, Aidonia was just another name in the tour itinerary. Missed, marked. and moved on from.

You’re at your usual corner at the back of the tour bus, laptop balanced on your knees, and a weak signal blinking in the corner of the screen. The heater hums low beneath the bench, a small mercy against the cold that still clings to your bones. Everyone else is scattered in their own little silences—some pretending to nap, others just staring out the foggy windows.

You scroll through the band’s shared cloud, mostly looking for something to keep your mind busy. A setlist doc, rough rehearsal footage, old draft folders with half-named files and outdated timestamps. It feels safe here, in the admin side of things.

But then it finds you again.

That file.

Not only did the person who edited this retain your horrible spelling, but he made sure to change the file format just to mock you. For a moment, your eyes flicker towards the front, where you know Mydei is sitting. He’s got headphones on with his eyes shut, but something tells you he’s far from asleep.

You dismiss the file with a flick and a huff of breath, shutting your laptop and stuffing it back into your bag. Now’s not the time.

The air still feels cracked open in places, too raw and brittle to touch.

So you’re surprised when Cipher plops down beside you with a cup of something hot clutched in both hands and a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She’s never been the awkward type. She grins through chaos, flirts with disaster like it’s her personal hobby, but right now she looks…uncertain.

“Hey,” she says, softly.

You glance over with a curious look, nodding in acknowledgement.

She hesitates before speaking again, which is the second red flag. “I, uh… I wanted to say sorry. For what happened back at the hotel.”

“...To me?”

“Yeah.” Cipher fidgets, turning the mug in her hands. “I kind of…mentioned you like you were part of the problem. That’s not what I meant.”

You don’t say anything just yet, letting your silence feel comfortable enough for her to keep talking.

“Being snowed in definitely fucked with my head, but... I was angry,” she admits quietly. “At Aglaea, the silence, the way we’ve all been pretending like we’re fine when we’re clearly not. But I shouldn’t have pulled you into that. You didn’t know about the whole rule, or whatever the hell it was.”

There’s a weight behind her voice that you’re not used to hearing. A sort of vulnerability that doesn’t dress itself up in sparkle or sarcasm.

You exhale, shifting your gaze to the window. “You didn’t pull me in. I was already there.”

Cipher nods slowly, biting the inside of her cheek. “Still. I made it sound like you were the reason no one talks about him. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You meet her gaze, finally. “Neither did Hephaestion, did he?”

Her eyes flicker, like the name hits her in the chest and scrapes on the way down.

“No,” she whispers. “He didn’t. Not to us anyway.”

Her voice is raw, stripped of all the usual luster. “Heph was kind. Stupidly kind. Even when he was tired. Even when it cost him. I think… I think part of me got used to believing people like that can’t break.” She swallows. “But they do, and it was too late when we realized.”

The guilt in her voice bleeds out slow and quiet, like a wound that never fully closed. Suddenly there’s pressure building in your chest.

Because you remember watching Cipher from afar. Chaos incarnate. The one who lit up every stage like a sparkler burning at both ends. Back when you were just a shadow behind a screen, she felt untouchable—louder, brighter, too electric to hold. You used to think that if she ever cracked, she’d do it with a punchline. Keep smiling through the smoke.

But most of her fire was real.

Cipher was the first to congratulate you after your debut show. The one who stayed up late with you, noodling through some half-formed song you both knew was going nowhere. The one who knocked on your door in Dolos and dragged you out for a night you didn’t know you needed.

Now she’s here beside you in the low hum of a darkened tour bus, grief softening her edges.

No jokes. No glitter. All that lingers is ember after the flame.

The distance you once felt seems to be dissolving. All that noise between who she was to you then and who she is to you now... It narrows into something small and human. For once, you see her clearly. Not as a firework, but a person left blinking in the dark, once the sparks have all faded.

“I didn’t know him like you did,” you murmur. “But I wish I had.”

Cipher nods again. “Hephaestion would’ve liked you. He always liked people who gave a shit.”

Her words sting just a little.

Because you hadn’t given a shit, not at first—not about him. You’d been too focused on hiding. On keeping your past fan-life buried deep, sealed off from this new, shinier present where you weren’t some anonymous handle obsessing over a band, but a real part of it.

Yet here she is. Trusting you with a piece of a story you were never meant to be part of.

You turn to her again, eyes soft. “Thanks. For telling me.”

Cipher exhales, nods, and leans her head back against the seat. Her eyes drift shut, but not in sleep, only silence.

You both sit there in the lull between storms, the road stretched long and uncertain ahead.

The bus pulls into a highway gas station just past noon.

No more snow. Only wet roads and gray slush melting under a pale, forgiving sun. Everyone seems to breathe a little easier.

Garmentmaker powers down the anxiety alerts. Phainon hums something tuneless under his breath while Castorice carefully picks out snacks. Even Mydei wanders off toward the drinks aisle without that usual tension in his shoulders. You grab a pack of potato chips, a drink, maybe something sweet. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, and for a second, the world feels like it's unpaused.

Outside, Tribbios rounds everyone up.

She’s standing near one of the green plastic tables bolted to the pavement, paper bag in one hand, sunglasses pushed up on her head. Her voice cuts through the highway noise.

“Alright, gather up! I’ve spoken with Aglaea. We’re taking a detour.”

That gets everyone's attention as you all glance at her expectantly.

Tribbios continues, “Before we head to the next stop, we’re heading to a nearby town—small place, nothing fancy, but I made some calls. They’ve got a community center with an open recreation hall. We’re doing a little impromptu team-building.”

Groans ripple through the group, but she holds up a finger.

“Don’t even start. You don’t have to sing, you don’t have to play, you don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to. But we’re showing up. Together.”

Someone mutters, “Please say this doesn’t involve trust falls.”

She simply grins. “No trust falls. But it will be something grounding. The center’s hosting a lowkey open mic session. Locals only. No press breathing down our necks. No stage lighting that can render you clinically blind. It’s a place where we can remember how to be people again.”

A beat of quiet passes. Then Aglaea, still sipping coffee like it’s the only thing keeping her upright, gives a small, exhausted nod.

“Fine,” she says. “But we don’t stay long.”

Tribbios flashes a thumbs-up. “Three hours tops. Then we hit the road.”

The town’s only fifteen minutes off the highway, but it might as well be a different planet.

You’ve gotten used to glass towers and rhythmic traffic of bigger city states. Here, the buildings are squat and sun-faded, old bricks clinging to paint jobs from a decade ago. The roads curve softly around weathered homes and shuttered bakeries. Here, the trees aren’t ornamental. They simply grow.

Castorice leans over from her seat behind you, voice hushed. “Think we have fans out here?”

“If we do, they’re the kind that still burn CDs.” Cipher snorts, still sprawled across the aisle with a bag of marshmallow popcorn.

As the bus rolls deeper into the town, past the rusted gas pumps and schoolyard fences, something inside you twists. It’s not just the strangeness of being somewhere so quiet. It’s the fact that no one here seems to care who you are. Or what the hell just blew up back at in Aidonia.

It’s almost peaceful.

The recreation hall comes into view in seconds: wide, low-roofed, with flaking white paint and a notice board out front boasting yoga nights and bingo tournaments. The words COMMUNITY OPEN MIC are written in colorful marker on a taped-up sign by the door.

The bus slows. Someone stretches. Someone else yawns.

You clutch your jacket closer as you step off. The air smells like earth and trees. Like a place that doesn’t expect anything from you.

Maybe that’s exactly what you all need.

The floorboards creak beneath your boots as you step inside, worn lines from long-forgotten dodgeball games stretching across the scuffed wood. In the corner, someone strums an acoustic guitar, clumsy but heartfelt, the chords drifting lazily through the space. There’s coffee in paper cups, cookies stacked on fold-out tables, and someone’s grandmother knitting in the front row without sparing a glance toward the stage.

It’s far from glamorous. But in its own way, it’s charming.

Garmentmaker’s already unpacked their camera gear, moving with eerie, fluid precision between tables, adjusting tripods with a grace that makes even mundane angles look cinematic.

“Tribbios said this’ll make good ‘contrast material’ for the tour reel,” they say as they float past. “Aesthetic tag: Band Rebuilds in Rustic Amphoreus. Thoughts?”

You give a soft laugh. “You forgot emotionally devastated edition.”

Eventually, the band disperses.

Phainon’s the first to strike up a conversation with a local, his easygoing charm folding neatly into the warmth of the room. Cipher, of course, is sampling cookies like it’s a formal competition. Castorice and Anaxa whisper over the sign-up clipboard, nudging each other toward it with half-hearted resistance. Mydei hangs back, still near the entrance, hands jammed in his pockets.

Then—Aglaea.

She’s at the edge of the room, looking wildly out of place in her pressed black slacks and blazer over a band tee. Her gaze is fixed on the wall of thank-you notes and photos tacked up near the old piano. She doesn’t see you approach, or maybe she pretends not to.

“Hey,” you say, quiet.

She doesn’t flinch. “This wasn’t part of the original plan.”

You nod. “Yeah, but maybe the original plan sucked.”

That gets the smallest twitch of her mouth. You stand beside her for a moment, both staring at the cluttered bulletin board like it’ll explain what the hell you’re supposed to do with all this—loss, tension, silence.

Then she murmurs, barely audible, “He’d have liked it here. Hephaestion. He was…always better with small rooms.”

You don’t say anything, but you give her an imperceptible nod.

The music pauses moments later. Tribbios claps twice from across the room, gathering the band like ducklings. “Alright, listen up!” she chirps, practically glowing under the twinkle lights. “Let’s make some magic today, shall we? Think of it as an emotional karaoke session with fewer regrets.”

She scans the group. Then her finger lands squarely on two people.

“Mydei. Diana. You’re first.”

It takes a second to register. Your name and his, spoken in the same breath, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You freeze. So does Mydei.

“Why us?” you blanche, sharp and stunned.

Tribbios simply grins. “I believe in symmetry.”

Cipher lets out a wolf-whistle. Castorice claps like someone just got engaged.

Mydei shifts his weight but doesn’t argue. He heads toward the stage with a slow, deliberate gait, the kind that buys him time. You trail behind with a skittering pulse. As you both climb the steps, your companion makes a move toward the mic stand until Phainon calls from where he’s leaning against the wall.

“Switch it up! Let Diana take the vocals, and get Mydei on the strings again.”

“Seconded,” Anaxa agrees with half a smirk. “We’re sick of hearing that bastard’s voice.”

The small space erupts in quiet laughter from the rest of your bandmates, and the sound of it loosens the tension that’s been coiling around your ribs for days. You glance at Mydei, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he exhales through his nose, shoulders lifting in a subtle shrug. He takes the stool, and props the borrowed guitar on his lap without much thought.

The mic crackles as you touch it.

“Um, any requests?” you ask the room, a half-smile tugging at your lips.

One of the locals grins and shouts, “Surprise us!”

You stand there, trying to will your pulse to slow. The spotlight feels too hot, like it’s burning every thought and breath into sharp focus. Mydei, on the other hand, is already settled in. He adjusts the guitar with that casual precision you can never quite match, eyes scanning the room, and then, just as smoothly, he looks up at you.

“So,” he begins, fingers curling around the frets like they belong there. “How about we do workigntitledotmp3?”

Your stomach lurches. “Oh my god. Can you stop calling it that?”

“Why? That’s what you named it.” He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “I’ve listened to it on repeat a few times. Took a guess at the chord progression.”

You want the floor to swallow you whole. The laughter from earlier feels like it’s miles away now. Your palms sweat against the mic. While this is not the first time you’re hearing of Mydei’s knowledge about that stupid demo, finding out that he listened to it repeatedly is a different story.

“Seriously?” you groan. “You’ve—?”

Mydei’s grin catches you off guard, like a rare sunrise breaking through clouds.

“Come on. It’s your song, remember?” he says again, but the softness in his voice makes it feel like he’s not just coaxing you into playing. He’s handing you the moment, like he’s sharing a piece of his own truth.

That’s the worst part.

It is your song. A relic from a night you couldn’t sleep, poured out like a secret. Now it’s here, about to be exposed under the stage lights and his fingertips.

Note to self: send that cursed file off to digital purgatory later.

Seconds later, you nod. Just once.

Because what else is there to do, when someone hands your own heart back to you and asks you to sing?

The lights overhead hum faintly. Somewhere in the back, Cipher leans forward, popcorn paused midair. The mic is warm beneath your fingers, but your voice still catches in your throat. When Mydei plays the opening chord, your heart nearly stumbles.

He really did listen to it.

Then, your mouth opens before your fear can catch up.

I’m more than the silence I taught myself to keep A name behind glass, too careful to speak Built all these walls out of fear I’d break But a cage is a cage, no matter the shape

So let it fall, let it burn, let it echo inside Let the truth in my chest be the thing I don’t hide If I’m meant to shatter, then let it be loud— I’ve lived in the shadows, but I’m stepping out.

Mydei finds the rhythm quickly. It’s not flashy or polished. You can tell it’s been a while since he played something for himself, much less a song that barely existed until now. But each chord comes out steady, as if he’s anchoring the room to give you space to fly.

Your voice rises into the second verse, so much stronger now.

I wore my doubt like a second skin, Danced on the edge but never gave in. But I’m done with shrinking to make space for the storm, I’m not small—I’m a universe, still being formed.

So let it fall, let it burn, let it echo inside, Let the truth in my chest be the thing I don’t hide. If I’m meant to shatter, then let it be loud— I’ve lived in the shadows, but I’m stepping out.

You don’t dare look at him yet, even if you can feel Mydei beside you, catching every breath you take with the press of his fingertips against the strings. It’s like you're speaking in a language only the two of you know, and you don’t want to shatter the spell with a single glance.

I won’t apologize for the way I ignite, This voice was never made for staying quiet. I’m done pretending I don’t want more— My name’s not a whisper. It’s a roar.

The last chorus crests like a wave you’ve been chasing your whole life. Each word strikes clean and resolute, carried by the burn of Mydei’s guitar beneath you. He doesn’t push the melody. He just follows, like he’s always known where you were going.

Then, with no grand finale or perfect cadence, the song ends.

The weight of it settles around you like something earned. Your chest lifts with a breath you didn’t realize you’d held since the first note. Mydei sets the guitar down with care, a soft click of wood on wood. When he looks at you, you can still see the ghost of a smile beneath those warm, golden eyes.

As the applause breaks, you realize this song never really belonged to you alone. It was always meant to be shared.

When you step down from the stage, neither of you says anything. But something passes between you anyway. It’s both quiet and electric, something that settles just beneath your skin.

You’re not sure if you want to give it a name.

Up next on Tribbios’ itinerary is Cipher, who’s dragging a slightly reluctant Castorice behind her like it’s just another night in Dolos. They stumble through a sugary pop duet once they get around to it, giggling more than singing. Somehow, that only makes it better.

Phainon follows with a borrowed harmonica, joining a local girl in a surprisingly sweet back-and-forth that leaves the crowd swaying. Then comes Anaxa, half-speaking, half-singing a smoky story-song about highway ghosts and forgotten gods. It’s weird. But completely on-brand.

Even Aglaea steps up. Her song sounds like a long drive through rain. She doesn’t wait for applause when it ends, just walks off with her usual grace. Tribbios jumps in to lift the mood, belting a melodramatic power ballad and, halfway through, accepting a kazoo from a stranger like it’s a trumpet solo.

During the interlude, your eyes catch on Cipher weaving around the stage, nervous energy radiating off her in waves. It’s the same jittery restlessness she had when she apologized to you on the tour bus. You start to wonder what’s got her wound up again, right up until she beelines for Aglaea with a tight-lipped smile.

You’re too far to hear their conversation, but the way their shoulders drop, the soft exhales, and the quick, relieved hug they share—it's enough to fill in the blanks.

Later, while the others finish a chaotic group cover of something vaguely punk and absolutely off-key, you settle into a folding chair with Garmentmaker’s tablet. You scroll: blurred mid-jump shots, wide grins, messy chords, fleeting glances.

But something makes you stop.

It’s a photo of you and Mydei, taken just after the last note faded. He’s turned toward you in the soft wash of stage light, bangs framing the glow of his amber eyes. The look on his face is open in a way that feels rare. He isn’t smiling exactly, but neither are you.

As you stare at the photo, something stirs deep in your chest. It feels like a sudden surge of warmth that spreads slowly, settling into the spaces that were waiting to be filled. Then your eyes lift to the scene before you: all the people who’ve welcomed you into this disaster of a band.

Loud and alive and indisputably yours.

Aidonia is behind you now, the snow, the silence, the fallout. Whatever waits on the next stage, the next road, the next night—

You’ll meet it like this.

Together.

[Original Tweet by @PulsePopDaily – now deleted]

EXCLUSIVE: Is The Flamechasers’ newest guitarist hiding a very devoted past? 👀

Fans are connecting dots between “Diana” and a once-mysterious mega fan who ran the largest account in the fandom. Full theory & receipts here 🔗 [link]

Top Replies:

@ GoldenDamselInDistress: y’all will accuse a girl of anything if she knows the setlist too well

@ NothingBurger123: not saying it's real but… that 2017 Tumblr post? uncanny

@ Hehehehehe: uhh am i the only one who thinks this is a red flag

@ GODNAXA: it’s giving Black Swan energy and I’m here for it

@ MydeisMic: okay but if it is her… that’s actually iconic??

Everyone is back in the game in no time.

After that much-needed wind down, you play every song on the setlist with twice the confidence you had on the opening night. It doesn’t take a genius to know that your bandmates are faring much better now, as well. The next three stops fly by in a blur of sold-out crowds and perfect cues. Five weeks into the tour, you don’t just feel like you’re keeping up.

You feel unstoppable.

Feedback from the label seems to be mostly positive. Aglaea finally looks less like she’s carrying the weight of the world and more like she’s just managing a band again. That’s partly thanks to Tribbios, who told Garmentmaker to force her into breaks the second her emotional readings dipped below a certain threshold. Still, no algorithm can fix burnout on its own. Aglaea only started breathing easier because the rest of you showed up and held the line.

The sixth stop is in Carmitis, a city cradled by pale green hills and washed in gold at dusk, where the horizon burns like molten steel when the sun begins to drop. You’ve never done a soundcheck half-dazed by the sky before, but there’s a first for everything.

When Tribbios told you this was Aglaea’s hometown, it made perfect sense. The place has her kind of presence—striking, composed, impossible to overlook. Not the type of beauty that sneaks up on you, but the kind that announces itself the moment it walks into a room. Just like her.

You can see that she’s at ease here. The band, too.

Everyone seems to know the local venue staff by name, and Aglaea makes a point of introducing you like you’ve always belonged. You try to wave her off, stammering that it really isn’t necessary, but she gives you a look that cuts through any excuse.

“Lest you forget,” she says, with that cool edge only she can pull off, “you’re part of the team too.”

For the better part of the evening, everything runs like clockwork. You tear through the setlist with your usual moxie, each note sharper than the last. But just as the final chords fade and you’re ready to launch into the closing act, the lights dim, and something unplanned flickers to life on the stage screen.

A surprise fan project.

None of you were briefed on this. Your bandmates exchange puzzled glances, clearly just as blindsided, eyes flicking toward the unfamiliar video rolling in front of a cheering crowd.

But when you spot Tribbios peeking out from backstage, she gives you a look that reads loud and clear: Just go with it.

The video fades in with a soft glow, met by an audible wave of surprise and delight from the crowd. Someone’s layered a slowed-down instrumental from the band’s debut single under the footage. It’s warm, nostalgic, full of reverb and care.

It opens with flickering clips of the band over the years: Cipher with shorter hair. Castorice clumsily adjusting her amp mid-show. A rare moment where Anaxa is the one laughing, and Phainon is mildly disgruntled.

Then comes a clip of Hephaestion. Larger-than-life as always, grinning wide as he throws his arm around Mydei mid-interview. The crowd cheers louder.

You’re not thrown off by it. You’d been a fan back then too. Before Diana, before the stage. Seeing Hephaestion on the screen doesn’t shake you. If anything, you find yourself smiling.

Part of you wonders if most of the fanbase has truly accepted you into this space yet. You know from experience how long fan projects take to put together—how they’re often in motion for months before they see the light of day. It wouldn't be unusual to find yourself absent from something like this, especially considering how much has changed in such a short time. You’d almost resolved to let the rest of the band have this moment, to simply smile and move on out of courtesy.

But then, the music shifts into a more upbeat track, the rhythm as infectious as you remember. The energy in the room pulses along with the song, and suddenly, newer clips start to flood the screen. More recent moments, clearly captured by someone who’s been woven into the band's orbit since the tour started.

There’s Mydei, grinning with the crew while setting up gear before the Okhema show. Phainon and Castorice, hilariously off-beat, attempting a terrible dance challenge onstage in Sabany. Anaxa with his mouth wide open in deep, oblivious sleep as Cipher tries and fails to drop a piece of chili into his mouth.

The crowd erupts in laughter, and it’s impossible not to smile. It’s so perfectly...them. These are the little moments between the chaos of shows, the kind that never make it into official footage but tell the real story of life on the road.

Then, there you are.

Your first show with the band. That solo where you leaned too far back and nearly toppled over—only to catch yourself at the last second, spinning the recovery into something that looked intentional. The crowd never knew, but they cheered like you meant it all along.

Then comes a slow pan: your silhouette framed in golden hour light during soundcheck in Dolos, fingers ghosting over frets as the stage hums beneath your boots.

Somehow, they even dug up a clip that moment. The one where you and Cipher are doubled over in laughter beside the tour bus, nearly wheezing, as Phainon mourns the tragic loss of his ice cream cone. The one knocked clean out of his hand by an oblivious Mydei, who still swears it wasn’t his fault.

You laugh at first. A soft, startled sound that slips out as the crowd roars with delight over Phainon’s theatrics. But as the next few clips play, the smile on your face starts to falter.

Because it isn’t just about the jokes or the spotlight.

They’re showing you.

Not just the polished moments, but the awkward starts—the missed notes, the way you used to grip the neck of your guitar like a lifeline. Candid flashes of quiet, caught when you thought no one was paying attention. The grit in your jaw when you pushed through another long rehearsal. The light in your face when the music took over and you forgot to hold anything back.

The way you kept showing up, not to prove anything, but because somewhere along the way, this stopped being a dream and started feeling like home.

Your eyes sting before you can stop it. One blink too long and the tears slip free, warm and fast. You try to laugh it off, to wipe at your cheeks, but your breath catches somewhere in your chest and refuses to come out steady.

Castorice is the first to notice. She nudges a hand into yours, fingers gentle and sure, like she’s grounding you without needing to be asked. Anaxa leans in from the other side, pretending not to look too directly at you, but the way he shifts his shoulder in front of yours feels like a shield.

You sniffle, try to hide behind the curtain of your hair, but it’s no use.

The final montage begins to slow. The colors dim, the music softens to a hum. Then, across the screen in clean, glowing text, the last frame lingers:

Thank you for being our light in the dark.

The silence after the screen fades is thick with feeling. You can barely breathe past the lump in your throat. You don’t even try to wipe your tears anymore, but Anaxa begrudgingly pulls out a handkerchief from his tight leather pants for you to take. Of course, you blow your nose into it without a second thought.

Just when the silence starts to feel like it might swallow you—

“Oh no,” Mydei says, with exaggerated gravity. “Looks like we’ve got a problem.”

You lift your head, just barely. The audience holds its breath with you.

“Our lead guitarist,” he goes on, pausing for effect, “is absolutely, completely inconsolable.”

Laughter ripples across the crowd, warm and easy. You hear a few awws sprinkled in. Someone yells, “We love you, Diana!”

You press a shaky hand over your mouth, a laugh escaping through the tears. Castorice squeezes your hand. Anaxa mutters, “You’re stealing the encore,” but his smile says he doesn’t mind.

Mydei walks over, unhurried and steady, his eyes locked on yours. He leans in just enough for his voice to reach you—low and private, meant for no one else.

Your brain short-circuits for a second.

Because, naturally, this is the show he decided to go shirtless. The stage lights catch the sweeping red tattoos that blaze across his chest and the curve of his arms, every line sharp and intentional. His torso looks sculpted—like something out of myth, all effortless strength and impossible detail.

And he’s looking at you.

“You feeling alright?” Mydei murmurs, his hand brushing lightly against your back.

You nod. Kind of. But the spot where he touches you burns even when he pulls away.

“You sure?” Mydei tilts his head, smiling in that way that’s all quiet mischief and something gentler underneath. “I can tell them to roll the blooper reel next. That’d really finish you off.”

That makes you laugh for real. It’s breathless, a little cracked, but genuine.

He straightens up, raising his mic. “Alright, looks like we’re keeping the show after all. You ready for us?”

Once the heartfelt fan project wraps up, you deliver the last song for the evening. Your fingers move on their own, riding the music like a wave you were born to ride. The lights flare, the crowd sings louder than the amps, and for one breathless stretch of time, it feels like the universe exists only in this moment—sweat and sound and starlight.

Then the last note hits. Mydei throws his head back, letting the echo ring out as Phainon crashes the cymbals like a firework.

Silence, for just half a second before the crowd explodes.

People are on their feet, screaming, chanting, holding up phones and lightsticks and hand-painted banners. Some are crying. Some are laughing. But all of them are alive with the same wild current pulsing through your chest. You’re still catching your breath when Mydei turns to the crowd, hair clinging to his face, chest heaving.

“This—” he pants, gesturing to the sea of people, “This was one for the books.”

Castorice takes your hand. Cipher waves dramatically to the front row. Anaxa pulls off his jacket and throws it into the pit, because of course he does. Phainon lifts his sticks to the sky like he’s offering them to the gods. Mydei moves forward and you all fall into step with him.

“Carmitis, you’ve given us your voices, your hearts, your light. We’re gonna carry that with us to every stop ahead.”

The crowd screams back, thunderous and loving.

Then the band’s frontman turns to you with an unfamiliar glimmer in his eye, “Oh, and if you see our lead guitarist sobbing again, just know—it’s because you’re all too damn sweet.”

You cover your face, laughing into your hands as the others hoot and whistle and give you playful shoves.

Tribbios’ voice crackles through the earpieces. “Final bow, kids. Let’s make it good.”

And so you line up, shoulder to shoulder. Aglaea’s watching from the wing, her hand over her heart. Garmentmaker gives you a subtle thumbs-up from the lighting rig. Even the crew is beaming.

You all bow together. One movement, unified.

Something you wouldn’t trade for anything else in the world.

Backstage hums with movement. The kind of chaos that feels earned—high-fives from techs, congratulations from the venue crew, a water bottle pressed into your hand as someone passes. Your body’s still vibrating with leftover stage energy, but already you can feel it beginning to ebb, that delicate shift from performance to person, spotlight to shadow.

The show’s just ended, your adrenaline still tapering off as you and the others trail toward the exit, weaving past venue staff and local press. The security detail usually handles this stretch well, keeping the band insulated from anything unscheduled. But tonight, someone slips through.

“Diana!” a voice calls, sharp and cutting through the din like a needle. “Is it true you used to run firescapes? The biggest Flamechasers fan account on Twitter?”

Your heart misfires instantly.

Your steps carry on, automatic and numb, but your breath hitches and the smile you’ve worn since the encore fades from your lips like steam on glass.

The reporter holds a phone up, recording whatever scoop he can get from you. The flash is off, but you feel the heat of it anyway. You don’t even have time to process what expression you’re making. Your past, the one you kept buried under layers of name changes, fake email addresses, and silence, is cracking open.

Your bandmates are a few steps ahead, laughing about something Castorice said. None of them hear it. None of them see you falter.

Except for one.

Fortunately, security peels the reporter away before it can turn into a scene and soon enough, you're all piling into the shuttle back to the hotel. The others are still riding the buzz of the show, laughter echoing, voices overlapping with excitement. But you can’t seem to match their rhythm.

Not when the question keeps echoing in your head.

Is it true you used to run firescapes?

You swallow hard. The name alone feels like a live wire.

How could he have known? You were careful, meticulous, even. Not even the current mods knew your real identity. You’d scrubbed every trace, buried it years ago, left it behind. At least, you thought you had. Fuck. You can already imagine the headlines once word gets out.

“You good?”

Phainon’s voice hauls you back to the present.

Your designated shuttle seatmate is staring at you with one part curiosity and two parts concern. His voice stays easy, laid-back as ever, but there’s a quiet weight beneath it. Like he’s giving you room to lie if you want, but hoping you won’t.

You shift, suddenly aware of the tension in your spine.

You want to say yeah, all good, or something breezy to match his tone. But even as he tosses in the occasional quip to whatever conversation is happening a row over, you know better.

He heard what the reporter had asked.

The words don’t come easily. You’ve kept this part of yourself buried for so long that it doesn’t feel like a secret anymore. It feels like something anchored deep inside, always there, holding you steady but uncomfortably heavy. Part of you that wants to shove it all back down, and convince yourself the reporter was just guessing. That Phainon didn’t actually hear, and pretend none of it matters now.

But it does. Of course it does.

You half-expect him to pick at the corners, to pry something out of you. Any sane person who just found out their newest member could be a crazy fan would exercise that sort of caution. Yet, Phainon doesn’t breathe a word of it. He simply lets the question hang in the air like it’s your choice to answer.

Ultimately, it’s his patience that helps loosen something in your chest.

Your fingers twitch in your lap, restless, and you trace the edge of a fold in your jeans, the way you used to ground yourself when you were nineteen, posting concert clips under a name no one knew. You remember the surge of excitement whenever a post caught fire. The way it felt like belonging. The way it made them—the Flamechasers—feel a little closer.

You press your lips together.

“You... You heard what that reporter said, didn’t you?”

Phainon doesn’t answer right away. His blue eyes shift to the window, watching the city lights blur past as if he’s lost in thought. When he finally speaks, his response catches you off guard.

“Do you want me to say yes or no?”

Your brows furrow. “Sorry...?”

He turns back to you with a small, lopsided smile. “It sounded like something that’s none of my business. So I’m giving you a choice: do you want me to say I heard it, or keep pretending I didn’t?”

You should want the easy out. For Phainon to just shrug it off and go back to chatting about setlists or late-night food runs. But the cat’s already halfway out of the bag already, and somehow, the idea of letting him believe a lie feels worse than the risk of the truth.

You sink back in your seat, the confession dragging behind your ribs.

“It’s true,” you murmur.

Cipher shrieks somewhere in the back, and while that normally wouldn’t have fazed you, you visibly jolt at the noise. It’s a reaction that isn’t lost on Phainon, but he affords you enough grace not to point it out.

“I see,” he says. “You haven’t answered my question though.”

...That's what he cares about?

“Aren’t you going to tell the others?” you ask with a frown. “We have all sorts of protocols set in place for obsessive fans, so—”

“Are you an obsessive fan?” he asks, cutting you off gently.

Your mouth opens, then shuts. “No? I mean—I don’t think so. I just... loved the band. A lot. In a maybe-slightly-too-intense-but-not-unhinged way? Ugh. I don’t know.”

Phainon chuckles under his breath, the sound soft and unbothered.

“That’s good enough for me.”

Part of you expected judgment. At the very least, some unease. Surely the universe would be demanding payment for all the secrets you’ve smuggled into this life by now. But instead, Phainon just leans back, like your confession weighed nothing at all.

When he casually shifts the conversation—I think I need to replace my snares, they’re starting to sound a bit off—you realize the moment’s passed.

No pressure. No expectations.

But even with Phainon’s quiet acceptance, the unease doesn’t leave you.

It lingers in the corners of your chest, coiled tight, like a thread pulled taut but never snapped. You glance around the shuttle. Cipher is giggling at something Castorice said while Tribbios and Aglaea are talking in hushed tones. Anaxa’s got his headphones back on, staring out the window. Right next to him, Mydei is half-asleep with his head tilted back, the one who obviously poured out more energy than the rest of you.

They all look...unburdened.

That’s what makes your stomach twist. Because Phainon might be willing to let it go, but what about the rest? Would they be that easy? That kind? Or would they see you differently?

You swallow hard and look away, guilt settling in even as Phainon leans his head back, content to let the silence stretch. He’s already made space for the truth.

But you can’t shake the fear that the others might not.

You thought you’d feel better by now.

The adrenaline’s long gone, replaced with a hollow kind of quiet that settles deep in your chest. Outside your hotel window, the city hums softly beneath the dark—streetlights stretching into quiet halos, distant cars slipping by like whispers. Somewhere downstairs, the band’s celebrating, but you’re here alone, and that’s how you want it.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

You were just about to crack open your laptop, fingers hovering over the keys, ready to finally wrestle with that unfinished demo. The awful file name seems to glare at you from the screen, a passive-aggressive reminder of how long you’ve neglected it. But tonight, you figured, was as good a time as any. You needed something to keep your hands busy. Something to keep your mind off everything else.

That was the plan, until you hear someone knock on the door of your hotel room.

You think about ignoring it. You’ve already passed on the group’s celebratory drinks—“just tired,” you told them, which wasn’t entirely a lie—and the last thing you want is Cipher trying to guilt-trip you into joining late. But of course you cave. Of course you open the door, but it’s not Cipher that’s standing on the threshold.

It’s Mydei.

But he looks different somehow. Loose in the shoulders, sprawling tattoos peeking through a half-unbuttoned shirt, one hand braced on the doorframe and the other holding a dark green bottle.

“Didn’t see you downstairs,” he says, tilting his head slightly. “Those bastards told me to make sure you didn’t get spirited away by the vending machine ghosts.”

“The what?”

“You know. Hotel haunts. Always by the vending machines. That’s what Phainon told me.”

You stare at him. “Are you... drunk?”

“Not yet.” He holds up the bottle: Velkaria Bloodwine. It’s smooth, easygoing, tastes better than it should for how dangerously drinkable it is. Expensive, too. “Wasn’t in the mood for a party either. Figured I’d share with someone less loud.”

There’s a pause. Long enough for you to wonder if this is pity, or worse: concern thinly veiled as company. Despite himself, Mydei doesn't push. He just raises a brow, waiting for your verdict.

After a beat, you step aside and gesture him in. “Only if you let me keep working.”

“I’ll be a ghost,” he says, slipping past you with the kind of ease that always makes it feel like he belongs in whatever room he enters.

Mydei settles right next to you on the sofa, kicks off his shoes, and starts pouring out two fingers of wine into the glasses from your minibar shelf. There are no words for a while, just the sound of your keyboard tapping and the faint clink of glass.

You hate how comforting it is, the quiet, the company. Especially coming from him.

Because most of the time, Mydei is cool and remote, wrapped in that untouchable, quiet of his. You’re never quite sure where you stand with him. But tonight, he’d been unusually attentive in a way that caught you off guard. He asked if you were feeling alright while his entire damn chest was on display. And you, very valiantly, had to stop yourself from spiraling into one of your deranged ex-fangirl daydreams.

Now he’s here in your hotel room pouring drinks. Like this is some long-standing tradition between the two of you and not absolutely insane.

You don’t know what version of him this is, but it’s disarming. Maybe a little unfair.

“Are you finally going to name that file or are you just building a shrine to it?”

You shoot him a look, but it’s half-hearted at best. “It’s a work in progress.”

“Everything is,” Mydei says, bringing the rim of his wineglass to his lips. “But not everything can be performed as an impromptu duet in the middle of nowhere.”

For some reason, your heart skips at the fact that he remembers the recreation hall. That was weeks ago—you’ve already forgotten the name of the town. But not the way it felt to perform a song you wrote together. At the time, you brushed it off. Didn’t let yourself linger on it. But now, sitting here alone with him, the memory hits different.

The realization curls warm and awkward under your skin, and suddenly your face is burning with embarrassment.

You should tell him to go. You should guard this space the same way you do your secrets. But instead, you let yourself breathe in the silence that settles between you like warm smoke. It’s neither heavy nor sharp. You’re simply just two people too tired of the noise.

“Thanks,” you say quietly when you retrieve your own glass. “This is wine, isn’t it?”

Mydei grunts. “It’s fermented pomegranate juice.”

“So... Wine?”

He chuckles into his drink like he doesn’t know what to do with you. You sure as hell don’t know what to do with him. But the corners of your mouth tug upward anyway, and the silence that follows is easier now.

The project loads on your laptop, sluggish and messy, a patchwork of uneven synths and ghost track layers you’ve been too annoyed to clean up. It starts playing from a random marker. You wince.

Mydei leans forward, brow creasing. “That’s the chorus, right?”

“No,” you groan, scrubbing back a few seconds. “That’s the mess before the chorus.”

He hums, nods, then points at your screen. “Your mids are crowding each other. That guitar line could be cleaner if you isolate it.”

You blink at him. “I knew you were involved in producing our songs, but not to this extent.”

“I’m not. I’m just annoying.” He takes another sip. “Play it again.”

You do. Again and again, with a few tweaks each time. Mydei gives you his thoughts in single sentences—concise and thoughtful, never pushy. It’s almost infuriating how he speaks less than you do but still ends up being right more often than not.

Somewhere between exporting a new version and looping the second verse, your wineglass gets emptier. Then it’s refilled. And emptied again. The room softens. Your laughter spills easier. He says something about your synth patch sounding like a broken traffic light, and you almost choke from laughing too hard.

Time skips like a scratched record. You’re not sure how long it’s been when you realize how close Mydei has gotten. One of you must’ve leaned in. Or both. He’s angled toward you now, shoulder brushing yours, watching the screen from over your arm.

When you glance up, his face is right there.

Your breath stutters, caught somewhere between your lungs and your lips. The distance between you could be measured in heartbeats.

Up close, his features are unfair. Sharp in a way that still manages to feel soft, like how dusk blurs the edges of sunlight. His bangs fall just slightly into his eyes, that deep, burnished gold catching the glow of your screen, turning them molten. You hadn’t realized how long Mydei’s lashes were. Or how his mouth, usually so unreadable, looks almost gentle now, the faintest curve resting at the corner.

You should look away.

But instead, you’re cataloguing him like a fool: the way one brow arches more than the other when he’s focused, the way he smells faintly of old cologne and wine and something darker underneath, like cedar smoke or thunder about to break. The worst part? He’s watching you too. Not in the casual way people glance around a room.

He’s looking at you like there’s a question in his mind and you’re the only answer that fits.

The demo has stopped playing. The glass in your hand has gone warm. You can’t tell if the thudding in your ears is the leftover bass line or your pulse losing composure. You should move. Say something. Laugh it off, maybe. But the words don’t come, and your body won’t listen.

Then, Mydei tilts his head just slightly. His gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips.

Nothing about it is subtle.

“You’re staring,” he murmurs.

You swallow. “So are you.”

His mouth curves, just slightly. “Guess we’re both guilty.”

There’s a pause, light but loaded. The kind that stretches between two people suspended in a moment that might become something else if no one stops it.

It would be so easy. The room is quiet, the lights low, your skin humming from the wine and the proximity and the way his gaze doesn't waver. He’s close enough to count your breaths, to see the hesitation flicker across your face. Something waits at the edge of all this silence; something fragile, and bright, and irreversible.

But then you remember who you are. Who he is. And what crossing that line would mean for the both of you.

Maybe in another life, you’d let it happen. You’d lean in. You’d chase the heat gathering between you until it tipped into flames. But your body moves before your heart can answer. A blink, a breath, a laugh that comes too fast and a little too loud.

“You make staring at someone sound like a felony,” you say, aiming for playful, missing by an inch.

That gives you room to shift back in your seat to put space between you. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to breathe. Then, your eyes flick to the screen of your laptop, where the demo’s still frozen mid-loop.

“You gonna help me fix the synth patch?” you ask, quieter now. “It’s still clashing with the bass line.”

Mydei’s reply takes a second. “Did Cipher really help with this? She’s usually... more precise than this, even on her chaotic days.”

He laughs, but there’s something brittle underneath it.

You ignore it. Or try to. “Hey, you’re the one who said even the producers couldn’t tame this thing.”

The silence that follows feels heavier than the one before. Like something that had opened between you has quietly, carefully, closed again. Mydei doesn’t offer up a retort of his own. He simply leans forward, fingers finding the keyboard with practiced ease, as if that moment never touched him at all.

But as the track stutters back to life, you can feel it. In the way your pulse stumbles. In the way he doesn’t speak for a long time.

The music plays on. Everything’s back where it was.

Except it isn’t.

TRACKLIST ✧ READ ON AO3

#honkai star rail #hsr x reader #mydei x reader #honkai star rail x reader #mydei hsr #mydei #cryoculus

69 notes · View notes

multiplicationdivision · 5 months ago

Text

Red Card

Brett loved being a referee in the year of 2048.

Nothing beat that feeling as he ran alongside the swarm of players, watching the tangle of young nanotech enhanced players weave in and out at superhuman speeds through the mud. Brett had been one of them years ago, but he could still keep up with the fleet of speedsters in his reliable living polymer under-armour and cleats. Feeling the rush as he tracked the semi-holographic ball, matching its speed as he streaked down the sidelines, his living clothes acting just as much as he did to keep his eyes trained on its movement through the air.

The sport still retained the same problems it always had, even despite how extreme technology had made it. Players still took every opportunity they could to win fouls, feigning injuries despite their titanium enhanced bones. Coaches still worked themselves up into their rages, caring far too much about a non-name league as if their egos hinged on winning every game. Crowds still cussed at him fro the sidelines at every one of Brett’s calls, whining as if it would make him care.

To all those overwhelming mountains of human garbage though, Brett had an ace up his sleeve. In his established rights as a judge and jury of these games he’d been given certain technological privileges.

If a player, coach or even observer were just a little too distracting, Brett could make something useful out of them. He had admins rights to anyone in his courts and a full copy of his biomatrix ready to fire and upload.

A repeat offender player Ashton screamed at him and in a moment Brett had activated the chip in his spine to repeat the same conversion it went through practically every week.

One moment Ashton was practically foaming at the mouth and the next he was squirming on the grass, likely feeling that ants crawling on the skin sensation of his nanotech expanding and restructuring. It worked off a template it had come to know well, pulsing with a ghostly blue radiation as it worked in overdrive.

Brett had been lured into this sidegig just for these privileges. Hell it was practically expected to be used at least once every day, lest he be unable to keep up with the day of games. Bret couldn’t be in two places at once, except when he had a troublesome volunteer.

Ashton’s blond mop of hair would retract into his head, a pulse of blue changing the sandy yellow into thick brown. The frat boy’s patchy whisps of facial hair thickened into a healthy stubble, just like how Brett had shaved it that morning. Angry eyes turned calmer as Ashton’s biotechnical brain overlaid a fresh perspective, overpowering any of his meager young memories and personality with a copy of Brett’s own dominant mind.

The young man grew much less young as his teammates watched mostly apathetically, although a trained eye could catch envy in some of them, especially as Ashton’s leaner frame gave way to Brett’s own larger set of muscles. Sure, the set now replacing ashton’s body were a recreation by nanotech, but the memory of Brett’s years in the gym filtered in with them, enlaying muscle memory and experience into the guy’s synthetic nerves.

Even the superficial details eventually got transferred. A scar from his own years of playing on his neck. The tattoo he’d gotten months ago reflected back at him, having been drawn precisely as every bit of Brett replaced the angry twenty year old who’d body checked a teammate.

The transformation was complete when the other Brett looked at him, just the same as him in every important way. The same confident grin and a challenging look in his eyes aimed right at him. They were a competitive person, even in his role as a ref.

A few quick transfers of his outfit code to his other self and Ashton’s dirty uniform melted into a copy of Brett’s, down to the same semi-personality running through their living clothes. It enwarpped both of them, urging some semblance of camaraderie.

“Well this is my game to ref now, 1.0” the other Brett said, already talking down to his original. “Why don’t you set up for the game in field 7?”

Brett would narrow his eyes but give up the game to his copy. Let the new guy have a head start as his prime self showed why he was the truest Brett.

It was a game they played to no one else’s knowledge, he and the clones he’d collect over a game day. A game of one-up-men-ship that decided the prime Brett by the end of the day. Losers get turned back into the players and whoever showed the greatest performance by their invisible scores got to go home as the real him. Whether that Brett was the actual original hardly mattered. It was fun like this. Hell it was probably the same for the thousands of other refs across the country, as well as the other folks abusing this tech.

Maybe the Brett who’d set up today would fall behind and get replaced with a template of Ashton at the end of the day. Maybe one of his collection of new brothers would go home the victor and start the next day as if nothing had happened.

Brett was going to win this game. So far he had never been the loser, but that was the flaw of always being the one remembered winning the coin toss. He couldn’t even conceptualize losing.

He was excited to see so many of himself lose. Just like always.

#identical #copy #clones #shapeshift #male shapeshift #my writing #clone by conversion #clone tf #male tf #make transformation

72 notes · View notes

shivayagojo · 5 months ago

Text

BAHRAIN GP, crashing hot mess

masterlist

It's time for the Bahrain Grand Prix. Round 4 kicks off the second race of this triple header.

see comments below

florence4ever: Ava coming into this GP with a big lead is just what she needs

> greenbanana: hopefully that podium streak continues

madmax: Max has been fast all of practice. Please Max string it together 🙏

bbisbroke: Ferrari please step up your game! Lewis needs his 8th 🏆

> team44: As much as I love LH, Ava is having a much stronger season right now.

youtube.com

Porsche F1: Ava or Duds

Admin: Welcome, Ava, to your first challenge for the Porsche YouTube channel. We've got a set of quotes and you have to tell if you said that or we made it up. Ready?

"I feel I'm about to be real exposed right here. I don't where to went to find some of these, but sure. Let's do this."

"Someone get this guys eyes checked. He's driving like he's seeing colors for the first time."

"Oh that's definitely me. It was like in my F3 days or something. Don't remember the guy I said it to."

Admin: Correct.

"This isn't driving on rain, this is ice!"

"That doesn't sound like me. I would never come about the rain. It's rain too much in Belgium for me to hate it."

Admin: That is correct. It's not you.

"If I see another damn backmarker on this lap, I'm going to crash into them."

"Hah. That definitely sounds like something I would say, but I don't think I said that one."

Admin: Correct.

"My biggest fear in the world is garlic getting in my nails when I cook."

"... That's not me, is it? There's no way I said something as stupid as that."

Admin: That actually is you.

"What? When did I say that?... I mean, yeah, I definitely do think that's annoying cause when you cut or grate garlic it has their weird texture that stick to everything and digs between your... Damn, I think I did say that. How the hell did you guys find that?"

SATURDAY'S are beginning to look like hell for Ava. She has the pace, the raw pace, to put this car on pole every time. But every time something goes wrong. In Australia it was the setup, in China it was the whole car. Somehow she managed to bag pole in Japan, but here in Bahrain her chances of pole were looking bleak.

MAX VERSTAPPEN was on fire the entire weekend. Bahrain always favored the Red Bull cars and Max was a driver who could drag a tractor to the podium. Though surprisingly, he had not gotten a single on this year. So Bahrain was redemption for the Dutch. He set the fastest laps in all three sessions, bagging pole by more than two tenths of a second. His old rival, Charles Leclerc, was right behind him. Charles had beaten Max on this track before. And he was looking to do it again.

WHERE WERE THE PORSCHES? Well, Vettel had managed to slide up into P4 after Russel slid wide in Turn 3. Florence was down in P6 however. No biggie. It could've been worse. What's the worst that could happen on race day?

Quite a mixup for Qualifying. What does Sunday have in store?

see comments below

madmax: MAD MAX ON POLE!!

> undiagnosed: DU DU DU

chuckleclerc: Max vs Charles is back!

> vettel_forever: Hopefulky Seb can make it an exciting three way battle!

> delulu: Max and Lando was fun, but this was what everyone wants 💪

heavyoncopium: Ava Florence to come from P6 to the dub 🥇

ava_fan_12: Ava Florence's race pace is insane. P6 today, P1 tomorrow. Let's goooo!! 🚀

> f1fanatic24: This is her year!! P6 today, P1 on Sunday 💪🔥

BAHRAIN GRAND PRIX STARTING GRID

MAX VERSTAPPEN

CHARLES LECLERC

LANDO NORRIS

SEBASTIAN VETTEL

GEORGE RUSSELL

AVA FLORENCE

LIAM LAWSON

LEWIS HAMILTON

OSCAR PIASTRI

CARLOS SAINZ

FERNANDO ALONSO

ALEXANDER ALBON

ANDREA KIMI ANTONELLI

PIERRE GASLY

ESTEBAN OCON

NICO HULKENBERG

OLLIE BEARMAN

LANCE STROLL

YUKI TSUNODA

JACK DOOHAN

GABRIEL BORTOLETO

ISACK HADJAR

FLORENCE HAS THE LEAD of the championship. With 2 wins and a podium in every race so far, she's been consistently at the top. But the world of F1 never seems to make it easy for Ava and she knows it. P6 would be a fine condition for any top tier driver like Ava. But this was just the beginning of her test.

"Welcome to Bahrain International Circuit where we kick off Round 4 to this already eventful championship. Let's have a look. We've got 57 laps ahead of us here under night lights. 5.41 is the track length. And the lap record set by Pedro de la Rosa in 2005. On the grid, we've got Max Verstappen starting on pole. He's won twice in a row in Bahrain. 2023 and 2024. He's looking to make it three times."

"Yup, tracks like these certainly favor the Red Bull as they've got both cars in the top ten. So Liam Lawson has a great opportunity to score some big points today."

"That great number of points we'll see as we've got five lights on... AND IT'S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO! Immediately, a quick start by Florence. She catches Russell napping on the start. Behind, Norris trying to make a move on Leclerc as they head down into turn and OH RUSSEL LOCKS UP HIS BRAKES AND THERE'S IMMEDIATELY CONTACT WITH SEBASTIAN VETTEL! LECLERC IS ALSO CAUGHT UP IN THE MIX AND IT LOOKS THEY'RE OUT OF THE RACE!"

"So that's Russel, Leclerc, and Vettel all effectively out of the race. They've all hit the barriers as Max sails on ahead. And where's Ava?"

"She's down in 17th, Martin. It appears she might have also been caught up in that accident... and yes, she has. Her front wing has been damaged. So she's going to need to pit. That is not the start she would've wanted. The championship leader, effectively dead last as the Racing Bull passes her. Up ahead, it's still Max Verstappen leading the race. Now with Norris behind him. So the both of them got cleanly away from the damage. And Norris benefits hugely from because he's up to P2 and his championship rival is down in last. Nothing could be better for Norris here."

FLORENCE I've got damage! Front wing.

HENRY Understood. Bring it into the pits as soon as you can.

FLORENCE This absolutely bloody idiot.

LAP 2:

"Here is Ava Florence coming into pits. She going to change her front wing. At least the good news for her is, instead having to overtake 21 drivers to win, she only needs 18 as Vettel, Leclerc, and Russell are out of the race."

LAP 5:

"Here comes the first of her victims. Yuki Tsunoda just having no pace here in Bahrain. Coming into Turn 3, Florence had the DRS and that was really no competition."

LAP 9:

"Verstappen comes into the pits. He's going to be coming for a set of new soft tires. Norris is now leading the Grand Prix. But I have a feeling he won't have that lead for very long."

"I think so too. Let's have a look at where Ava is. She's gotten past some of these drivers that are coming into the pits. But now here she is side-by-side with Gabriel Bortoleto. These two have given us some amazing battles before."

"Through Turn 10, Bortoleto remains ahead, but Ava has the DRS, she has the slipstream. She's going to try around the outside in Turn 11. Full throttle up into 12 and now it's Ava with the inside line. She'll get the move to stick on Bortoleto."

"Just superb racing from both drivers. Bortoleto was keen on not giving up that place, but Florence was just hounding through the entire sector to get it. And just about gets her through. Tremendous stuff between the Audi and Porsche."

LAP 13:

"From one rookie to another, Ava Florence lunges into Turn 1 on Antonelli and moves up ahead into P11. So, that's already 8 places she's covered. Florence is just on fire."

"Antonelli didn't stand much of a chance therd, did he? Just kind sat there as she took the inside line. Goes to show how powerful that DRS is on that Porsche."

"Indeed, Martin, and as now — once again — Ava going for the overtake. She dives into the inside for Turn 8, around the hairpin, brilliant overtaking and she gets past Alex Albon. That's two positions in one lap."

LAP 18:

"Ava Florence comes in her for her pit stop. So does Lando Norris. Both of these drivers on the longer end of the soft compound tires. We see it'll be the hard compounds for Norris and for Ava... that'll be the softs again. So she will be going for the medium tires on her final stint."

"Definitely an interesting choice considering Norris lasted about the same amount of time on these tires. Now we'll see whose strategy works out better. McLaren or Porsche."

LAP 20:

"We're onboard with Ava Florence chasing down Oscar Piastri as they exit Turn 4. Ava gets the speed out of the corner. She's right on Piastri's tail. Could this be another overtake for Florence? No, not yet. She backs up on the hairpin. But now, as they cross the DRS detection zone, Florence will have the DRS. Sharp turn and down the straight they go. Florence with the DRS, she's in slipstream, she pulls out and it's another overtake for Florence! She's up in P9."

"Yeah, once again, brilliant move. I think she just very good awareness of the track. She knows where the DRS zones are, so shes braking to behind Piastri so she gets the DRS and not him. Very smart overtaking by her."

LAP 24:

"So far, things have gone quite well for the Porsche after their catastrophic start. Vettel is out of the race, but Florence is up into the points. She's staring down the back of Fernando Alonso as they come down the main straight to begin Lap 24. Florence has the DRS... Just a little too far back though. Doesn't get an opportunity into Turn 1."

"She's going to be really close to him into Turns 3 and 4. Florence again has the DRS. She's closing in the gap even more. Tucks her car on the outside of the hairpin-"

"Ooo, so close they are together. Alonso and Florence, side-by-side, who is going to get the push. Alonso trying to squeeze her out, but Florence just gets ahead! She moves up into P8! Brilliant!"

"That's a very tough overtake to make. Around the outside into Turn 4, never leave the throttle once after the exit and narrowly avoid a crash. That's just beautiful racing from two talented drivers."

"That was Fernando Alonso and Ava Florence. Ironic, isn't it? We've Florence take some Fernando's iconic celebrations. I wonder if she'll do another one if she gets to the podium this race."

"Well, the chances are looking strong for her. Blinding pace. Let's see where she goes from here."

LAP 29:

"Alright, our second set of pitstops are beginning as Hamilton comes into the pits for a fresh set of hard tires. Hamilton, not really finding a good grove in those soft tires in his first stint, but did in his second. So hopefully it'll be prime time for him to gain some valuable points in Bahrain."

"Ferrari need him to perform badly, too, with Leclerc out of the race and he's going to come just behind Florence. So, let's see what she's doing."

"Well, Martin, Florence is still out on her second stint. She did drag her tires longer than everybody else and we've her extend the life of grip throughout the race before. Right now, she wants to overtake Liam Lawon in that Red Bull."

LAP 31:

"My goodness she's fast Martin. Two laps ago, the gap was 2.3 seconds. She's cut it down to just about a second. She's going got get DRS on this main straight and all of a sudden, she's right there. Liam Lawson is definitely going to see her in mirrors."

"She is super fast on these tires. Lawson has already done his second pitstop for hard tires, but Florence is still finding a stronger pace than him. It reminds a bit of Kimi Raikkonen in his hay days. How he would just find tremendous pace anywhere on the track? If that's just the beginning of Ava's development, then she's got a wonderful career ahead of her."

"Indeed so, Martin. Only 19 years old, a rookie no less, and atop the championship charts. Last time we saw this was with Lewis Hamilton, but uh, Lewis couldn't quite get the championship that year. Maybe Ava will be the first."

LAP 32:

"Back onto the main straight to start a new lap. Florence with DRS, she's in prime position for the overtake - DIVES INTO THE INSIDE... MAKES IT STICK! And it's goodbye to the Redbull and hello to the podium for Porsche!"

LAP 42:

"Everything has gone quite swimmingly for Ava here. She managed to extend that gap to Lawson quite a bit. And now she's coming into the pits..."

"Norris and Vertsappen are just a little too far off for her to catch up with these older tires. So she's gonna have a crack at it with these these fresher mediums."

LAP 47:

"Is that who I think it is, Martin? It's Ava Florence behind Lando Norris. She's cut down that gap significantly. So that pit for the medium compounds definitely helped as she's found tremendous pace here in Bahrain and with 7 laps to go, she's looking to take P2 for herself against her championship rival."

"So, her streak of podiums is going to continue, isn't it. This is going to be four podiums in a row for her compared to Lando's one. I think that's where majority of the lead came from. Just her consistency."

LAP 49:

"Down the main straight, the start of Lap 49. Florence less than a second behind Norris. Gets the DRS. Norris is going to have a hard time defending on these older tires. And Florence just cuts down that gap even more! Down into Turns 2 and 3 they go. Another DRS zone. Florence is looking to make the move stick on the hairpin as she's done before. TRIES THE INSIDE - LANDO COVERS - OUT THE OUTSIDE SHE GOES. NOT ENOUGH. Lando holds on."

...

"Third DRS zone in Bahrain. Ava once again lunges to the outside, is going to try to convert this to the inside, but Lando just has that extra inch of space to cut her off into Turn 13."

LAP 50:

"The laps are counting down for the Belgian driver. I'm sure both drivers are feeling the pressure at this point. One driver who isn't: Max Verstappen. Lead the race since pole till now. He's five seconds ahead of both drivers. He's going to very comfortable-

"Sorry to cut you off Crofty, but Florence tries to overtake down the inside of the hairpin again, but locks her brakes, goes too far ahead and doesn't make the turn in time. So, still behind Lando."

"Very interesting stuff to see here and that's going to help Lando as the gap between them as extended slightly."

LAP 53:

"This is all she has. The final lap of the Bahrain Grand Prix. Lando. Ava. Separated by three tenths of a second. Hard on the brakes into Turn 1. Into Turns 2 and 3 they go. Martin, can she do it?"

"That's the million dollar question, isn't it? Second DRS zone, Ava's pouncing on Lando. No attempt at the overtake in Turn 4, but I think she's looking for another DRS zone. Minor left hand turn and then the fast right-to-left sections in sector 2. Crossing the DRS detection zone into Turn 9, and the tricky Turn 10-"

"Lando's skirts a bit on the exit. You saw him try to readjust his steering and that's just what Ava likes to see as she's pouncing on the DRS. Side by side they go. We've seen song and dance before, Martin, AVA HAS THE INSIDE LINE IN TURN 12 BUT LANDO IS GOING NO WHERE. THEY SO CLOSE. AVA JUST AN INCH BEHIND HIM. SHE TUCKS IN HIS SLIPSTREAM FOR THE FINAL STRAIGHT - TURN 14 - AVA LUNGES TO THE INSIDE. ENOUGH SPACE FOR HER TO TRY. SIDE BY SIDE THEY ARE DOWN ON THE FINAL STRAIGHT. THE CHECKERED FLAG AS FALLEN. VERSTAPPEN AS ALREADY CROSSED. BUT IT'S ABOUT AVA AND LANDO AND NO! IT'S NOT ENOUGH FOR THE PORSCHE! SHE CROSSES THE LINE JUST A HUNDRETH OF A SECOND BEHIND LANDO."

"What a nail-biter? Down until the checkered flag she stayed on the side of Lando. You really didn't know if she was going to get ahead until the flag fell. Tremendous."

"I'm sure for Lando, but Ava will not be too happy about that. Podium still, but not the exact position she wanted."

FLORENCE F***. I'm sorry.

HENRY That's still P3, Ava. Tremendous work.

porschef1

Good drivers drive. The best survive the carnage.

see all comments

delulu: Alright admin, we see you 😭

moistbananas: Someone could tell me the admin as a crush on Ava and I'd believe them.

> gp2engine: lmao it's clear as day they're in love 🥰

meep: Does the admin reply?

> porschef1: only for Ava

> delulu: 😭😭

florence4ever: That should've been P2 but we'll take it it.

> chuckleclerc: Could've been so much more if George "He turned into me" Russell didn't fumble Turn 1.

BAHRAIN GRAND PRIX RESULTS

1. MAX VERSTAPPEN (+25) 2. LANDO NORRIS (+18) 3. AVA FLORENCE (+15) 4. LIAM LAWSON (+12) 5. LEWIS HAMILTON (+10) 6. OSCAR PIASTRI (+8) 7. CARLOS SAINZ (+6) 8. FERNANDO ALONSO (+4) 9. ALEXANDER ALBON (+2) 10. ANDREA KIMI ANTONELLI (+1)

11. PIERRE GASLY 12. ESTEBAN OCON 13. NICO HULKENBERG 14. LANCE STROLL 15. JACK DOOHAN 16. OLLIE BEARMAN 17. GABRIEL BORTOLETO 18. YUKI TSUNODA 19. ISACK HADJAR

20. CHARLES LECELRC (DNF) 21. SEBASTIAN VETTEL (DNF) 22. GEORGE RUSSELL (DNF)

BAHRAIN POST RACE INTERVIEW

Interviewer: Max, third year running you've been the winner at Bahrain, but this is your first win and podium of the season. Can you tell us about that?

Max: Yeah, I mean, the first couple of races, I didn't the car that much pace to even qualify for the podium. Obviously a bit frustrating for the team, but then we were able to do something good today and I'm sure it'll be a massive boost for everyone.

Interviewer: Lando, congrats on your second place finish, but you were very close to loosing it. What happened there?

Lando: Don't really know too much to be honest. I thought I had a comfortable lead until I started seeing Ava in my mirrors. So, it was just a tough battle. She was very quick out there, but we managed to hold out until the end.

Interviewer: Ava, you had a rollercoaster of a race, first with the accident at the beginning of the race and then to almost taking P2 on the final corner. Can you tell us more?

Ava: You know I'm really glad you're here because at least I can look at something pretty while I'm sulking. Yeah, it was a tough race. Seb was taken about my this walking torpedo and then I had damage so I was basically last on the grid. We made some changes to our strategy to big thanks to the team for that. And then yeah just frustrating at the end. So close to a P2 finish but Lando just held it out. I should be happy with the results, but I'm not. But whatever. We'll see what we can do next round.

f1_leaks:

Footage from the cooldown room in Bahrain. Max and Ava discussing George Russell's incident:

Max: Dat incident met George was echt bizar. [That incident with George was crazy.]

Ava: Ik weet het. Hij kwam als een raket aan. [I know. He came crashing like a missile.]

Max: Heeft u schade? [Did you have damage?]

Ava: Ja. Hij spinde en chipte mijn voorvleugel. Ik verloor al mijn positie in bocht 1. Gekke gek. [Yes. He spun and chipped my front wing. I lost all my position on Turn 1. Crazy madman.]

see comments below

disguised_cope: Nothing see to here. Just two half-Belgian drivers dissing on Russell.

> delulu: Ava 🤝 Max: Hating on Russell

burntmellows: George has fumbling other people's races so many times it's not funny.

George Russel to receive a 5 page grid penalty in next race's qualifying for causing a collision in Turn 1 of Bahrain.

see comments below

bottas: KARMA!

florence4ever: KARMA!

delulu: KARMA!

vettel_forever: KARMA!

chuckleclerc: KARMA!

toasted_waffles: KARMA!

avaflorence

Bahrain: Hi. That's the best introduction I have.

see comments below

florence4ever: No MAMA you already have the black and white aesthetic, don't fall into depression now!

> delulu: it's happening. She's turning into a Ferrari driver. 😭

> kachow: Ava to Ferrari confirmed?

lando: That was scary for a few laps.

> avaflorence: I'm coming for you in Jeddah 🔪 🔪

fernando_alonso_official: You did well chica 👍

> elplan: Help why is typing like a grandpa 💀

> avaflorence: Thank you, El Padre. Does this mean you'll let me win in Spain?

> fernando_alonso_official: No.

WORLD DRIVERS CHAMPIONSHIP

WORLD CONSTRUCTORS CHAMPIONSHIP

A/N: Semester about to start soon. It might slow me down, but I'll try best to get as frequent updates for you guys as possible. 👊

By the way, I also have a book out on Amazon. It's called The Human Art of Film on Amazon.

taglist: @freyathehuntress @allthings-fandoms

#f1 smau #ferrari #formula 1 #fanfic #formula one #f1 #f1 female driver #f1 2025 #f1 imagine #porsche #sebastian vettel smau #sebastian vettel #charles leclerc #lewis hamilton #lando norris

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isat-script-project · 8 months ago

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HAPPY 300!!!

Welcome one welcome all. I want to announce: What the hell, yall!!

You are reading that right. We have TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND total views on neocities, and over 300 followers on here!!

That just goes to show how much people love ISAT. I can't reiterate it enough, it has been an utter blast working with you all!

So, in honor of that, I redrew the website banner as.... us! The people behind this thing! And you may now notice... wait there's four?

(of course, if you've paid attention to the page updates, you'll have seen the names already!)

i got very sappy under the cut. thank you.

From left to right, as our dear cast, we have -

@goldstargloww as Siffrin! I am, once again, infinitely grateful you just kinda manifested in my DMs and then spent an hour teaching me what github is over stream like i am an old man trying to install Linux. You are a lovely person, fun to talk to, passionate about what you do, and it's a continuous honor that this project remains among those things!!

Starring as Mirabelle.... is me! Your lovely mod, @felikatze, ye of many names (essay guy, divorce guy, wiki admin, etc etc~). It has been a lot of fun, a lot of despair, but always rewarding to work on this thing for.... nearly ten months now! Wow! I don't know if i've ever actually put consistent work into anything in my whole life for that long.

As Bonnie (instead of Isa, because that was their preference), we have @candycoatedrox ! I feel like you brought a fresh wind in when I was getting tired. You've shown a lot of initiative, you've picked up everything super quickly, and you're already helping make improvements to it!! You're extremely cool!! Seeing you makes me want to work harder as well!

And as Odile, we have @onenightbreak ! Wren, you have been here the shortest, but I am nonetheless overjoyed to have you on board!! Thank you for your preserverance in not being scared off by my overenthusiasm and nitpicky corrections. From my experience, I think you are kind, and cool, and your tumblr custom theme is sick as hell.

Here's to working together and actually finishing this thing!!! I hope everyone continues to have fun working on it, as I'm sure the dear viewers here have fun reading it and using it for all sorts of their own projects. (I saw a script project screenshot as the background of some fanart once. I've seen it used in poetry collages. I am so proud.)

Thank you all!!

#Feli speaks #in stars and time #do i maintag this because of my cute art? yes i do.#everyone gets to hear me be sappy. to the high heavens.

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soldier-bee · 1 month ago

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my long overdo thing for my cupids whole team(my mutual reminded me)

Raman(Cupid Medic):

Raman was created as a replacement for the now Anti-cupid Severin(@ionlypostmymeemocs character)

he represents obsessive love and as his love entails he became OBSESSED with the original. (Severin)

after he was found out that he loved someone he was punished and his feathers were torn out but he never took the hint and is still in love.

he is an outsider to his own team

Maverick(cupid engineer)

created as a cupid but was never fully finished before he was sent out on the battle field rendering him unable to express any emotion but still feels them

he represents selfless love

when not fighting he usally goes out looking for Edme(ok just see @ionlypostmymeemocs post to see where all these random names are coming from) and hang out with him. he plays it off to the admin like hes gathering leverage against the Anti-cupid team..hes not.

Boris(Cupid heavy)

boris represents companionate love, always there to give you a big old bear hug when you need it!

his wings are far smaller than what you'd expect he'd need to fly but SOMEHOW he still is able to fly like wtf??

hes always there to listen to your problems and do his best to help when times are hard for you

Buck(Cupid soldier)

buck is always..ALWAYS. crazy lol i donno i have nothing for this guy yet.. :(

he represents phila love look it up i not explain :3

has a whole samurai outfit plus a devil mask

dont ask about war, hell talk for 72 hours about it and the history about it before passing out himself

François Fleur(Cupid Spy)

you ever feel like someone is watching you? that you have eyes on you all the time? well that could be Fleur, hes a secret admirer of sorts, always keeping track of everyone and everything....that they do what they like and more!

youll never be alone, never! just call his number! or maybe your friend has already called him for you!

thats only what it feels like, hes actually just a really good listener and likes to do his best to make his friends happy

???(Cupid Pyro)

uhm...hes..shes crazy..uhm..i think we got a defect in the cupid machine-

he represents burning passion..i i think..uhm..shes right behind me isnt he?

Louis(Cupid Scout)

take a normal scout give him antlers and a few other modifications you get this fuck! always being rejected but dont worry you'll still feel love it will just be not taken seriously but keep trying you'll get em someday! :D

Louis represents unrequited love, bla bla bla and stuff

give this boy any amount of attention hell think you're best friend now how silly

hella energetic energy, 50 laps around the world kinda energy

Fergus(Cupid Demoman)

Fergus represents storage love or love for family and friends i think?

the best drinking buddy you could ever have, dont question how he got there even if he was never there before

he likes those fat little seal plushies and has a whole room full of them

more to come uhm.. my brain hurty

Dingo(Cupid sniper)

dingo represents self love! LOVE YOURSELF!

quiet personality and tends to keep away from the rest of the team so he can work on himself alone

he enjoys baking even if its almost inedible by the end, self care mud baths are essential and he doesnt like to go by himself so he takes Fleur with him

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strawbiecream · 1 month ago

Note

Do you have any head cannons on how John would have gotten corrupted in the first place? What about the rumors that he was a hacker and would destroy all of Roblox? Would have affected him into getting corrupted?

Sorry for the super late reply i forgot i have u saved as a draft 💔

Im currently working on that right now but i keep getting distracted and kind of stuck in the middle of my school project and a lot of assignments,, ill still yap about that but a lot of things will change (might actually remake the entire headcanon tbh this kinda ass now)

spoon yapping nonsense

Ill make this simple and brief to not confuse myself i keep doing that

John in my headcanon is a 50 year old man who worked at the ROBLOX HQ for almost 25 years. He got married to Jane after a few years working there and also are close friends with the admins :] they would hang out on the weekends drinking and getting drunk, grilling together too at John's house

About how he even got corrupted.. just know that he was blackmailed threatening to kill Jane then was forced to decode something, and lastly getting infected by the funny codes that straight up flew out through his computer mouse. The lines of codes also disappeared from his screen which made him nervous

(TheC0mmunity did this to him oh wait i wasnt supposed to snitch uhmm ignore what i just say)

At first it wasnt a big deal. John just felt tingly. He didnt brush it off until like a while after confirming he was okay. It was until 2 days later where he got sick so bad he could barely sit up, but he still persisted and went to work. Builderman noticed how tired he looked and offered a few days break for him but John refused. He still works, its just a lot harder to focus when all he thinks about is his own sickness. John still decides to go to work like for another day before it gets worse. His right hand was feeling rather weird and it wasnt listening to him at times. The tip of his fingers were slowly getting darker too and he didnt understand why. At this point im out of ideas on how to execute it properly so heres a bit of dialogue between Jane and him thats been rotting in my draft (it will get sloppy from here)

"John? John, talk to me."

"I know something's wrong with you. You don't have to lock yourself up like this."

"Builderman told me about your current.. state. Lately, you just felt so distant towards everyone else and-"

Jane paused abruptly, taking a deep inhale to calm the waves of emotions inside of her down. With a firm voice, she continues where she left off.

"Listen, whatever the hell you're going through, we are gonna do this together. Just let me help you."

There was silence between them before it was interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. John stood behind the door, hiding himself and the right arm. Jane moves closer to him and reaches out to him.

"Come on now, let me see it, please?"—she tilts her head with a small smile filled with worry for him. Hesitantly, a sigh escaped John's lips and he shows her the right arm he has been trying to hide. Jane held his hand, her other hand gently rolling up the long sleeve to check his condition. She couldn't help but gasp, seeing how dark his arm had gotten.

"Sorry, darling I- I don't know why. I don't know what to do. I don't know whats going to happen."

"We can figure it out together, it's okay. Let's get through this like how we used to do it, alright?"

Little did she know, shit only goes downhill from here.

Through the days, they went to the doctor uhhh they did everything they could to reverse his condition but nothing worked. A week after this, the corruption really starts to act up now which controls his actions against his will. It caused him to attack Jane then resorted to her also attacking him out of self defense with a kitchen knife. Giving each other scars during the conflict as John tries his best to stay awake, but with the open wound on his right eye it just speeds up the corruption process and after a useless attempt of resisting, he eventually succumbs to the foul energy

Then the spectre came to take him away 💔

If anything, i forgot about the fact that he was a rumor going around being a dangerous hacker.. ough gotta add that in anytime soon and actually put effort in these things

#spoon yapping #spoon's drawer #THE ASKERS ARE COOKING

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yeonmuse · 5 months ago

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ᥫ᭡ f!Oc x lee heeseung ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are open] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🪷

⍣ ೋ AUTHORS NOTES . This is part of admins Enhypen University Special Event. This series also has slight connections to every series in said event so occasionally characters from the other members chapters may appear in this series as well. (Completely rewritten)

˗ˏˋSUMMARY ´ˎ˗ Heeseung finds himself completely captivated by the campus golden girl. Perfect grades, absolute sweetheart, breathtakingly beautiful and the lead girl in every show the theater has put on thus far. Though just what he finds that he’s getting closer to her through her love of theater and performance arts, old flames and childhood friends make it harder for Heeseung to get closer to her.

TAGLIST IS CLOSED

QUIET ON SET

The hell-like weekend had finally ended and it was now time to get back to classes and rehearsals. The fact that so much had happened in the timespan of just two days still completely shocked sakoia, obviously life was unpredictable and moved fast but she had never expected her weekend to turn out as it had. In two days alone she had met a new friends and rekindled old flames.

Aside from the agonizingly slow of the weekend Sakoia did find herself smiling at the thought of her childhood friend having found his way back to her. Shed also somehow found herself thinking of Heeseung though as quick as the thought of him had appeared she shook it away. She wouldn’t allow herself to sit and swoon over someone so easily. Though he made it hard, the last 2 months since Jungwons party, any time she’d seen him around or conversed with him he always had this way of making her laugh or smile. The confidence and charm he held could obviously draw a woman in, but it made her feel so easy how simple it was for him to worm his way into her thoughts.

She had been completely lost in her thoughts of the events from last night. She hadn’t realized the man himself creeping up at her side as she walked.

“Lost in your pretty thoughts so early in the morning?” His voice snapped her back to her senses , earning a smile from Heeseung when she actually made eye contact with him.

“Mm just thinking about the weekend, as much As i love my girls it was completely exhausting.” Heeseung chuckles seemingly unbothered by the mention of the events, though she was completely unaware that his entire weekend had consisted of him and his friends playing detective to find out who her newfound friend had been.

“Mm yeah, I saw that you went to the game, how was that exactly?”

“Let’s see the entire night consisted of Yuan complaining and asking questions on top of questions about what the point of the game was”

“I’d honestly expect nothing less of her” he chuckles

“Shota, and Keeho were also there..Yena too.” The tension in the air grew thick as she raised Heeseungs body tense. The name left her mouth, making Heeseungs mouth run dry. As much as she hated to pry, there had been a part of her that was still holding onto the way Heeseung had reacted the first time she’d mention Yenas name, She couldn’t help but be curious as to what happened between the two.

“Are you two getting close these days?” Sakoia felt her stomach twist in knotts at his response.

“Um, I don’t know she’s more so Yuans friend but she’s been sticking around often.”

“Mmm I see.”

An awkward silence-lingered between the two, she seemed lost in thought but all he could do was stare at her as they walked, all he could do was admire how beautiful she looked when she was lost in her own head. Even though the mention of a certain someone had completely ruined his mood, he wouldn’t let that keep him deem admiring the girl right before his eyes.

The two of them eventually arrived at the auditorium, sheltered from the cold outside, and engulfed into the warmth of the building. This was their first official practice since the roles had been announced, and thankfully Heeseung wasn’t as nervous as before. Having spent more time with her he was now a lot more confident and comfortable in the role when it came to scenes with her.

Sakoia found heels watching him as he took off his jacket and threw it onto a seat in the front row. She found heels a little distracted after hearing his words earlier, so he was interested in someone. She was forced to come to her senses as the rest of the cast started sauntering into the auditorium, and the two were no longer alone.

For the first time since she started acting she found herself somewhat distracted when she’d look at him. Whether it was her trying to figure out who he had his eyes on, or her trying to distract herself from the fact that she did in fact find him attractive.

Meanwhile all Heeseung could think about was her, how pretty she looked, how angelic her voice sounded as she delivered her lines. The way her nose scrunched up whenever she was deep into her thoughts in between scenes. She was all that he saw.

CHAPTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

🔖 @jwonistic @bubblytaetae @pkjay @heesallure @planetmarlowe @dreeki @butterflywonz @lillotus17 @squiishymeow @river-demon-slayer @sol3chu @st4rryst4r @firstclassjaylee @right-person-wrong-time @riribelle @gaytron3000 @heesunghooney @i03jae @blackhairandbangs @sunooqvrlsx @addictedtohobi @enaile23 @ivyvioletcarson @kristynaaah @starbyeol1512 @tinyteezer @jkslvsnella @brianashiftz @starbyeol1512 @miuwonis

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sunshine-in-a-bottle · 8 months ago

Note

hello, suds :D

i come with six ships for the shipping bingo card (pick and choose which ones you want to do): c!dreamnoblade, c!dreamza, c!awesamdrunz, c!aswesamdream, c!awesampunz, c!drunz (for the first two you can also use the bingo card from here (https://www.tumblr.com/sunshine-in-a-bottle/764332055865835520)

I am frothing at the mouth. God you are being so nice to me right now and letting me be insane. I appreciate you so much.

DNB^. I did both because of course I did. I love your template I Needed To Use It.

DNB obviously got a lot more for the second bingo than the first because they are objectively the healthiest possible pairing you can get here. Look at them. Theyre perfect for each other. Theyre narrative foils, theyre parallels going in opposite directions but forever side by side in their path. It would have to be a very specific universe for them to even BEGIN to be able to make each other worse.

I know because of the way things worked it couldn't be called something canon, but in a world where the DSMP was made in a different medium, DNB would have been an excellent endgame for both of their characters. It maximizes their healing. They both get to be understood at a fundamental level, and seek comfort that they just wouldn't be able to get from other people.

Techno gets to take care of someone who really needs that care, someone who laughs at his jokes and finds him funny, someone who is rewarding to try and make laugh, because god knows Dream tries so hard to be insurmountable. Dream gets that personal attention he so desperately needs without being enabled or placated, or shut down for expressing clear boundaries. Literally my only gripe with the pairing is that its so healthy that I can't go batshit insane about problematic behavior like I like to do.

But honestly the yearning can be so intense that it makes up for anything else. My god can these two yearn, quietly but intently.

Dreamza^. By god this is the greatest crack rarepair to have ever existed in the history of ever.

Its so incredibly unlikely to happen just because of how canon went, but they have so much hidden potential as both a character study and for Shenanigans. They're both admins. They meet for the first time because Philza broke into Dream's server. Philza's son has made Dream's life miserable. Dream is like a younger version of Philza in all the confidence and control and burgeoning power that leaves Philza with both a sense of deja vu but also makes him feel like he's back in the old days, when things were a little less complicated. Dream is reckless and has no self preservation, but even if he has the skill to back it up, Philza still can't help but want to watch his back. Dream's trust is fragile and intense and hard-earned, and doesn't it feel good to earn it? To see this silly young man who endures the world feel safe to reach out a hand to Philza and let Philza take it?

Also the AU concept of Dream being an insane coder with no training VS Philza who actually knows what he's doing and is fascinated and horrified by how Dream runs the server is funny, okay?

Also Kristen can watch them fuck, no notes.

^Awesamdrunz. Listen. Listen. I experience mental illness. I'm going directly to super hell. There's so many things wrong with them, and with anyone else this would go terribly but somehow they make it work. This is somehow the healthiest relationship they could achieve. They can make each other so much worse in some ways (excusing each others crimes) but they could also make each other so much better in others (Dream heals, Sam is redeemed, Punz feels less alone.) I read 100 fics about them and they were all my own. I too want to be an evil necromancer who is consistently loafed on and gets self care.

I didn't mark "I wish more people would ship them" because honestly I'm pretty content with the amount of people who do ship them already. This ship is one part porn, one part crack, one part angst, and three parts kidnapping, I'm not expecting everyone in the fandom to turn around and go THERE IT IS. THE SHIP OF ALL TIME when its such a specific flavor of insanity and doesn't have a ton of canon merit. I like being able to bother my friends about it, and everyone who wants to sit with me on tumblr and ao3 and rotate it with me is nice and good. This feels comfortable.

^Awesamdream. I had to take a break from writing this and came back wondering "why didn't I put that they were perfect for each other." maybe it was for Torture in Prison reasons??? Maybe I was thinking about how they aren't a ship that is perfect in a healthy sort of way, theyre both so mentally ill about each other from prison after all, and Sam's control issues don't naturally blend with Dream's control issues.

But I kind of don't mind that they aren't perfect for each other? I don't think they need to fit like a glove, weaving in and out of each other and completely complimenting the other. Their hands don't fit perfectly- if its post prison, especially, since Dream's lacking a couple fingers- and Dream steps on Sam's feet when they dance. But it feels good to write them a little messy, a little fucked up, but still able to Be Good to each other, Sam towards Dream especially. Not healthy, but happy.

(admittedly, I had to write them like that myself for the most part when I first joined the fandom. Most of what Awesamdream was at the time was torture porn and angst, because YKnow, Prison, but I really wanted to explore them Being Happy and wasn't sure where to start. I'm really grateful for the dreblr discord server for giving me a place to write a lot of my early fics for them.)

^SamPunz. Do you understand how delightful these two are? Do you understand The Vibes that they give when they're together. Listen I'm rapidly running out of braincells but I love to imagine just. In the CKAU the way that Punz fundamentally changes Sam for the better by forcibly instilling boundaries that Dream can't instill on his own.

The way that Punz is so misanthropic, so distrusting of people and so angry at the world and at Sam for what he did. Punz isn't sure they want to believe Sam's capable of change, because in their mind it would be so much easier to kill him and be done with it.

But Dream wants and hopes that Sam can be better if they just try, so Punz is forced to Not Kill As A First Solution. Punz is forced to deal with the an absolute travesty of a creeper. Punz goes from "humanity can't be saved lets kill the server and everything on it and becomes gods" to "actually people might be able to change and become better. I don't like having feelings about this. I don't like having to reckon with my own humanity. Goddamn it Sam."

Listen I'm just rotating Punz pushing Sam against the wall, holding the Communication Knife to his throat, and threatening him. Sam is trying very hard not to find this extremely attractive. He is failing.

I need them to fuck.

#suds asks #suds soapbox #my writing #I'm honestly too tired to write paragraphs for Drunz (I got a covid booster and its kicking my ass) but like #honestly I don't think that anything I could say would be something that someone hasn't already said #Maybe I'll write a really long rant about them when I'm not exhausted #just know that I love them and adore them #and I hug you so much

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gakucchis · 10 months ago

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my story about ♡being cyber bullied by the love live fandom even though i didn’t do anything♡

this has nothing to do with obey me and i doubt anyone will read this but.. who wants to know the story about how the whole love live fandom in 2017 was bullying and harassing me?? alright alright calm down everybody if you wanna know sooo badly

my account name for ig back then was dagashimanga/honokasmanjuu. i really just wanted an account to share my love live obsession with and shitpost.

if you were around back then, you remember the most famous love live confessions account on ig and all the DRAMA it came with. like so so much went down there it was hilarious. anyway, i was friends with one of the admins, her user was christmas.eli.

she was like one of my first internet friends. i live in germany and she lived in france, so sometimes we’d talk like the whole night. we were super close.

until… KAYLEE happened.

now, if you were around back then… you know who tf that is!! it was a (presumably) 10-13 year old girl who would have tons of accounts (talking 20+), all very girly and feminine, super pink, etc. she would either wanna be your friend or hate you to death, and often times when you wouldn’t become her friend or wouldn’t do the right thing, she’d hate you, stalk you, harass you, everything. blocking her didn’t work.

so, one day, i was her victim. idk how it started, but something set her off. she harassed me, texted me, created an account called honokasmanjuuu and copied my posts word for word lmao

a few days later, i took a nap and woke up to see my ig BLOWING up. what the hell happened? well, kaylee fabricated a screenshot of the worst thing you could do in the love live fandom: scam someone of their sif account. she sent it to the love live confessions account for awareness, and guess who approved and posted it? my dear christmas.eli!

my account was full of people telling me how horrible i am, how i deserve to die, etc. people found my private, real life account, commenting there, using my pictures and spreading them (mind you i was 14), telling me how ugly i am, how ugly my art is, even photoshopping me on a pig lmao

i texted christmas.eli and told her it was fake and asked her why she would do this to me instead of talking to me first. she absolutely hated me and told me to block her. my irl best friend (to this das mwuah) even tried explaining it to her but she didn’t want to hear any of it. the bullying got so bad, i deactivated any accounts i had — it was full on cyber bullying. i couldn’t listen or watch anything love live related because it was so traumatizing at the time.

i created new accounts, where one girl even texted me, and after talking to her she trusted me and felt sorry for me, before also turning on me and telling the confessions account my new user. i quickly deleted the account and started anew, without anyone except my irl friends and like 2-3 mutuals.

funny thing though: my new account actually grew quite a bit, and one day, christmas.eli followed me even. nobody knew who i really was because i kept private information at bay and started using an internet name (which, to this day!!, is ria ♡). and… i actually became her friend again, acting like i was someone else lmao.

she was close with two other girls, all three had big accounts, and one day the other two girls posted a screenshot of my account because i said something along the lines of most men only using male sa victims to minimize female sa victim awareness (which is true!). they called me a sexist who doesn’t care about male sa which is just as bad.. girl where did i say that….. anyway, i was only bullied for a day so ig it’s okay!

if you’ve read this far, wow, congrats. if you know me from back then (dagashimanga, honokasmanjuu, gakucchis and now gakuwucchis (you can follow me, but not very active)) let me know! also let me know if you bullied me too, no hard feelings unless you’re one of the three girls. because then i wish you hell on earth!

#love live #ll #lovelive #sif #llsif #love live school idol project #love live school idol festival #honoka #honoka kousaka #love live sunshine #aqours #muse #llsifas #sifas

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crowleybigbang · 2 years ago

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Hi! I’ve been binging Supernatural for the first time, and I’m on episode 5 of season 9. A bit after Crowley ALMOST got cured from demon…ism. And I NEED. I NEED fanficitin about cured!Crowley, or at the very least mostlyCured!Crowley. Because oh my good, it’s all I’ve been able to think about. I deep a deep dive into this character RIGHT NOW MAN. I AM FROTHING FOR IT.

I don’t care if it’s shippy or friendshippy either I just need a stories examining Crowley’s guilt and regret and how he screaming “I DESERVE TO BE LOVED” and literally willingly baring his neck for more human blood injections. GUH. HELP. I NEED YOU TO BE LOVED TOO, CROWLEY. SOMEONE LOVE HIM. I want to watch this man break down in tears and sob pathetically on the floor.

They made Crowley so woobie in that episode and I’m not over it.

Well, you came to the right place!

One of the old admins @demonologist-in-denim is no longer active, but he had tons of fanfic about cured!Crowley and on-his-way-to-redemption!Crowley. This is his AO3.

Same goes for @thayerkerbasy - his fics are here.

@walkingaline offers some fics with cured!Crowley, and almost cured!Crowley. AO3 here.

@petrichoravellichor and @greywrenn also had some excellent fics, and series, and tons of fun content to check out about Crowley's life post Hell. Petrichoravellichor's AO3 is here and Grey's AO3 is here.

@additionaladdams also has some fun fics with Crowley and Cas righting some wrongs! Here's the AO3.

Of course, if any minion has suggestions, or I forgot anyone, do come forth!

And... yeah. The show was... nope. I feel you and I feel for you. Welcome to this pit of despair - we have excellent fanfic.

#ask #we're still bitter #crowley #spn fanfic #fic recs

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the-s1lly-corner · 1 year ago

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admin live reaction to the 2003 TCM movie lets gooooooo going to be one full post rather than a series of reblogs so i dont clog the blog

so like was there ever a reason for changing the family name in this reboot or was it just becaue

i never really thought about it but im quickly starting to realize how different horror was back then as opposed to the 2000s and to now- like obviously things change and evolve but like. tone and style so far feels different

3 miinutes in and theyre getting FREAKY hello!!!!

maybe im the weird one but how the hell can someone be so comfortable getting THAT into a makeout session in the company of friends- like a kiss is fine but these two are literally moaning and fondling each other in the backseat

oh theyre not even friends one of them literally just joined the group

WHYYYYY are you kissing your girlfriend while driving god i hate distracted drivers im glad this is a slasher movie

COOCHIE GUN?

oh!

i know im only 13 minutes in but i do not enjoy this group the group from the og had more charm to me idk

i do not trust this old ass woman

unrelated but i looooooooooove cabin in the woods but i hate that it pointed out the "character types" you see in slasher movies because now im hyper aware of which character is gonna die and which one isnt before any slashing happens

A OPOSSUM :3 YIPEE

whos punk ass kid

can i pet the daaaaaawwwg

sheriffs got some fatass eyebrows god DAMN

random ass pigs in the house??

oh! the sheriffs a creep! i mean obligatory "its a slasher film theres always at least one creep" but like. you know

morgans easily the most annoying of the bunch though

obligatory "hes already been on screen" but this is our first full body shot but woo yeah leatherface mr thomas hewitt let me see why a bunch of people keep requesting you

epvfpmpfvmf the nails on the wall ripping off.. euuuchh... 10/10

this version of leatherface (or really the whole movie) feels waaaaay more brutal than the og and idk how to fell- maybe im biased because i fell in love with the og but i kind of prefer it, but i can see why people may like this remake more

chat can we kill the sheriff

*shoots multiple shots from a gun right next to their head* "you girls need to get yourselves under control!" chat i hate this man so much. like even without the "we know this group is innocent" knowledge id still be hating this dude. so so bad

"i aint never seen no weapon go off without somebodys finger on the trigger" dude how many fucking times do they have to say that she shot herself god damn. like i KNOW logically its because "oh he found a body and drugs, and one of the people is missing" blah blah blah and thats the thought process and thats not something to be treated gently but like. this just feels... too far? like literally making someone sit where someone committed and then making them put that same weapon in their mouth feels like its going waaaaaaay too far

"we got ourselves a killer!" and then its just a group of people scared out of their mind, one just got chased by a dude with a chainsaw and the other is getting his shit pressed and all three nearly got shot in the head ofc someone is not going to think rationally of course theyre going to want anything to get out. that doesnt automatically mean they killed the girl. curse of knowledge for knowing what happened curse of knowing the sheriff doesnt know raaaah raaaaaah divine death blast i still hate this dude so so much oh my god

actually pausing the movie to take a few minutes because the sheriff is pissing me off so much LMAO

hitting the sheriff with another death ray for drinking and driving god if theres anything i hate more than distracted drivers its intoxicated ones. "but hes not drunk" and he still shouldnt be drinking

"so what are you going to do with your tickets" "you can have them" "is that bribery!!! *smashes a glass bottle on the dudes head*" oh my fucking goooooooooood leatherface can you get this bitch.. i havent hated a character this much since carmody from the mist

SLUR MENTIONED/j

the tire flies off as they finally get the car to work be so fucking for real

OH AND HES WEARING THE BFS FACE TOO THATS MESSED UP (i love it)

the tea was drugged wasnt it

chat i deadass have no idea whats going on

I KNEW NOT TO TRUST GAS STATION LADY I KNEW SHE DIDNT ACTUALLY CALL THE SHERIFF I FUCKING KNEW IT

also like... so is it more than brothers this time? og was just them plus grandpa but it looks like theres more here- also baby snatching? hello? also are they still cannibals?

they got bros dogs on the piano

i would like to apologize for calling the kid a punk

maybe its sympathy but maybe morgan isnt so bad i think i just didnt vibe with the group when they were first being introduced. perhaps. i was too harsh

morgan has some balls i think hes my favorite out of the group- blode dude is also cool but i forgot his name.. tbh im starting to enjoy the entire group asides the boyfriend but tbf he got yoinked early

oh hey... thomas cut his leg... just like... side eyes

girl you are hiding in the lockers, hes walked past you. why are you screaming

lmao nvm i forgot she grabbed the cleaver but like wwwhhhhhhyyyyy not just sneak him

oh just casually chopped his arm off with a few swings

also why not just aim for the head? i know "shes freaking out, logic is out the window" but like ?Q?Q???!!?!?

TRUCK DRIVER!?!! JUST LIKE side eyes WOOOO MAMA

theres 10 minutes left of the movie i do not trust the truck driver

MIRRORING THE WOMAN FROM THE BEGINNING?

ok nvm the truck drivers just a dude

OOOOOHOOOOHOOOO THE CAR HOT WIRE BIT WAS SUCH A GOOD TWIST

YEEEEEEEAH YEAH RUN HIM OVER AGAIN YEEEEAAAAAAH

AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!

i give this movie a 7 out of 10! i liked it, but not as much as the og- horror wise i think it hit better, style wise i personally prefer the og but i can understand why many would find this version appealing!

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deliberate-disguises · 2 years ago

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WHEN Ao3 comes back up (by the higher power, I KNOW they'll survive this! For now I, and all of us, must hold back from opening it until the Ao3 people say they're in the clear), here are reasons why Ao3 is superior than Wattpad and ff.net (and maybe livejournal if anyone is still using it--dear Lord, I feel old):

TAGS. Ao3 has tags that allows us to have a clearer guess on what we're stepping into. Plus, people can go wild on tags and it's always amusing to see. Wattpad has tags, too, but it's not the same.

Filters. I dislike Wattpad's filter. It confuses me a lot. Ao3 has better and extensive filter. We can filter tags we want to see and tags we don't want to see. We can also use the "search words" bar (or something like that) and that has saved me when I can't remember the title and/or the author but I remember certain sentence(s) in the summary. Ff.net's filter is just ... too limited.

Let's admit it, Ao3 does not have ads. Ugh, ff.net sometimes has ads popping out in the middle of a fanfic (really, right in front of my salad?) and it's absolute hell. I don't know about Wattpad but last time I checked, you might have to deal with ads before going to the next chapter.

Ao3 allows us to see the whole fic if we want to, not just chapter by chapter. I set my own account to show entire work and it's a blessing when I find a multi-chaptered locked fics (aka fics that can only be read if you have an account). I don't have the patience to press "next chapter" button.

Lastly, IT'S DOWNLOADABLE. IN SEVERAL FORMATS. I personally like reading on my phone, so I usually download the .epub or .mobi format. If it's over 50k words and/or it's that good, I'd leave a kudos (usually as a guest because I'm too lazy to sign in), and then download it so I can read when I'm offline.

Okay, bonus, this one is for the writers: FORMATTING. You can have footnotes!! Actual working footnotes! And embedded links! I don't think ff.net and Wattpad have that. For example, JAFF (Jane Austen Fanfic, bc I'm on a P&P roll) writers who like to add footnotes are adorable! I love seeing how they took time researching it and I get to know interesting tidbits about that era without having to fall into a rabbit hole (I'm the type to hyperfixate.)

Those are my reasons. Praying for Ao3 admins and my fellow Ao3 writers and readers.

#ao3 #ff.net #wattpad #livejournal

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animefu · 8 months ago

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Pokémon Horizons - The Sudden Turn (Part 7)

Characters: Amethio, Liko, Friede, Roy, Murdock, Orla, Zir, Conia

Pokémon: Ceruledge, Corviknight, Sprigatito

What happened earlier:

"Ok, ok! You've won, you're already getting an explanation." he said and ran his hand trough his hair for a brief moment. Amethio already knew... This was definitely going to be a very long night for him...

~~~

The Rising Volt Tacklers were still looking at Amethio and Liko with curious faces, still eager for an answer from the former Explorer Admin, as the girl was still sitting on the teenager's lap. It was very obvious, that something was going on between the two, since Friede had seen exactly, how they had kissed earlier.

"Come on, Amethio. We're all waiting. And I think, Liko finally has a right, to know the whole truth, don't you think?" the leader of the Rising Volt Tacklers asked, looking very knowingly into his rivals eyes.

"You won't let up, until you get a sensible answer, am I right?" the teenager asked, giving Friede a slightly annoyed look.

"You've got it, my friend. I already advised you to do that, when we spoke back then. And apart from what I saw at the base earlier, there must be something going on between you and her. So go on, don't keep us in suspense any longer. " he added and then leaned back in his chair, in order to listen to Amethio's possible confession.

A short sigh escaped the teen, but then he turned his attention back to the black-haired girl, who was still sitting on his lap. "Liko, I..." Amethio scratched the back of his neck a little awkwardly. The whole situation was definitely anything, but relaxed. However, he still wanted to finally let it out, this one thing, that had been weighing heavily on his shoulders for several days after his conversation with Friede a little while back. " I mean... Do you still remember, that I wanted to tell you something important back at the base after we... Well, you probably know, what I mean, right...?"

Liko blinked briefly in surprise at this question, but the situation from earlier came back to her mind, when Amethio had kissed her and wanted to tell her something apparently important afterwards.

"Erm, I think so... What did you want to tell me, that was so important?" the young Trainer now asked the counter-question and looked at the 16-year-old knowingly.

Amethio had to scratch the back of his head again, embarrassed. 'Geez, this is really a lot more difficult, than I thought,' he heard his thoughts say. But then he took a deep breath and carefully lifted Liko off his lap, so that he could stand up and she was now sitting on the chair by herself.

Liko blinked a few times in surprise, when the teenager suddenly stood up and stepped right in front of her. But before she could ask, what the hell was going on at that moment, Amethio suddenly knelt down in front of her. No, it wasn't her imagination, the black and silver-haired was really kneeling right in front of her and had gently taken her hands in his own, causing the girl, to flinch reflexively by his touch, after realising, that he was no longer wearing his gloves.

Now the teenager took a deep breath before he began, to speak:

"Listen, Liko. It's like this now... I don't know myself, why it happened. But after you swore to me, that you would help me face my difficult past and get away from the Explorers... A strange feeling has flared up inside me, that I've never felt before in my entire life." he now said in a timid tone, which surprised even Friede and the rest of the crew. They had never been able, to observe this side of him ever before.

Now Liko was even more confused. "Amethio. What exactly are you trying, to tell me?" she now asked a clear question.

The teen swallowed once, before taking a deep breath, after Friede had repeatedly given him an encouraging look. 'Okay, it's now or never, Amethio! You can do it, tell her here and right now!'

After the 16-year-old had once again reflected on himself, he looked up at the young girl again and right into her beautiful blue eyes, which, at least from his point of view, sparkled more beautifully, than the sky. "Liko... What I want to tell you, is that... That I... love you..." Now it was out. The black and silver-haired had finally said it.

But as Liko still didn't show any particular reaction after a while, he became a little unsure. "Ehm, Liko? Why aren't you saying anything? Please say something!"

Liko internalised the words, Amethio had just said in her mind, as she noticed his tension. Then she looked down at him with a gentle smile. "Amethio, I..." she began and now her friends had all turned their heads in her direction waiting for, what the 13-year-old was gonna say now.

~~~

After almost half an hour of unusual silence, the girl finally started, talking again. "Amethio, I... I love you too! You don't know, how long I've been waiting for you, to finally say it!" Liko's eyes just sparkled like two excited shooting stars.

After Amethio heard this sentence, he pinched his shoulder, to make sure, that he hadn't just imagined it. But the look out of soft and almost heartwarming eyes, that were gazing down at him, almost spoke volumes for the teenager.

After a short while, he awoke from his trance and slowly stood up again, with Amethio grasping Liko's hands and pulling the 13-year-old carefully to her feet as well. This gave him a much better view of her marvellous facial features. Her long eyelashes, her rosy lips... But most of all, the teen was fascinated by Liko's crystal-clear blue eyes. He never met a girl once, whose eyes were as enchanting as Liko's. Never before in his whole, entire life!

The way Amethio looked at her made little butterflies flutter around in Liko's stomach. "Amethio..." she began, but was silenced by a finger from the man in question. Her heart was beating rapidly and the young trainer felt an unusual heat rise in her cheeks. She was seriously blushing!

The 16-year-old looked at her gently and tenderly from his violet eyes, before his gaze slowly fell on her delicate lips again. God, how much he wanted to feel them on his again... Here and now! Slowly, Amethio bent down to the girl, pulling her slightly towards him by the waist, before his lips finally met hers and he found himself once again in a soft and soulful kiss with the girl, who had turned his head so much. But in a positive way.

It almost seemed as if time stood still for a brief moment, so absorbed were the two of them in this intimate moment. But at some point, the two teenagers had to pull away from each other again to avoid falling over from lack of oxygen. However, even after that, neither of them took their eyes off the other.

~~~

It didn't take long for the newlyweds to find themselves surrounded by a huge, yet friendly crew. Even Zir and Conia were included and congratulations poured in from all sides for the two newly in love.

After everyone took a step back, Liko and Amethio looked into dozens of happy, wide-grinning faces.

"This is simply amazing! I'm so happy for you Liko, for both of you actually!" Roy said and gave his best friend a quick hug.

Liko couldn't help but smile broadly in response. She was extremely glad to have such support. It was simply an unbelievably great feeling for the young trainer.

"I must also congratulate you, Amethio. I'm really very proud of you for deciding to listen to your feelings. That really deserves respect." Friede added and briefly tousled the teenager's hair, causing him to blush slightly around his cheeks and nose.

Somewhat ashamed, the 16-year-old took a few steps back, holding his hand over his mouth in embarrassment.

However, Friede reacted surprisingly calmly to this situation and put both hands on his hips. "I'm just incredibly proud of the progress you've already made. And believe me, with Liko by your side, things can only go uphill from here. I'm convinced of that." he said, still smiling broadly and full of pride.

This also brought a small smile to Amethio's lips, whereupon Liko gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and squeezed his hand in encouragement.

Murdock had a big grin on his face again. "I think we should celebrate this event properly, don't you? We're organising a huge party! I'll take care of the food, of course!" the chef said, already rubbing his hands vigorously.

The others, but especially Liko, looked at him in slight astonishment. "Murdock, that's all very well meant, but we really don't have to make a big deal out of it or anything like that." the black-haired girl tried to gently dissuade him, but he was already busily taking notes.

Amethio couldn't help but smile at the little spectacle, which unobtrusively elicited a smile from everyone else as well. Obviously all the crew members were happy that the former Explorer Admin had finally found the right path. At least Friede, Zir and Conia thought he more than deserved it after everything that had happened.

~~~

After the hours of toing and froing that followed, everyone had gathered outside on the wing deck of the Brave Olivine around a lavishly laid table and were chatting happily with each other.

Amethio in particular had a lot of fun with the group, which made Liko very happy. She simply leant against his shoulder, whereupon he simply continued to smile.

After a while, Friede raised his voice again. "Well, now that we're all sitting here together... Don't you think now would be a good time to tell us all about your past?" he asked, looking pointedly in Amethio's direction. "I'm just saying that it would certainly be easier for you to get away from all that pressure that way. After all, you now have Liko by your side and we are all completely behind you. You have nothing more to fear, Amethio. So don't you think it would be in the best interests of us all?"

This statement caused the teenager to slump his shoulders again out of uncertainty. "I..." He pressed his lips tightly together and it was clear that he seemed to be resisting something.

Liko naturally noticed his renewed tension, the same as before the whole conflict with Spinel had started. "Amethio, you can really be sure we won't mock you or do anything else to make you uncomfortable. Please... Tell us what your life was like before you joined the Explorers..." the black-haired girl said in a gentle tone, looking lovingly at her boyfriend.

The black and silver-haired sighed heavily. Apparently the time had really come to face up to his past and make a fresh start. With a determined look on his face, he turned his full attention to the entire group...

~~~

To be continued...

Sidenotes: God, I've finally got round to working on this story again. First of all, I deeply apologise for taking so long. After all, the last update was in February, but I just didn't have any inspiration on how to structure the next Part.

But now my flow of ideas has become more even and Amethio's story is picking up speed again.

Once again, I hope you'll forgive me for my long absence and that you're still excited to follow the story.

That said, if you liked this new Part, please let me know via reblog or messages as before and definitely tune in for the 8th one of:

'Pokémon Horizons - The Sudden Turn'

Your most grateful @animefu

#pokemon horizons #fanfic #amethio #liko #rising volt tacklers #found family

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