Helloooo, you guys can call me Ani or Lumen (Lumen preferred but don't care really)!!
This is a Blog to just post my oneshots and maybe take some request. I will only write for the characters that I have already written for and maybe the ones I will add to this list !
The character list I will write for :
Revali (botw)
Luigi (Mario bros)
Professor Layton (take your pick, I will write for all of them)
Avengers (Loki and Bucky and what not)
Snatcher (A hat in time)
That bunny guy (devil may cry)
Frieren (Any Character)
Rise Donnie (ROTTMNT)
W.D.Gaster (Undertale)
Silco (Arcane)
Vox (Hazbin Hotel)
So as you can see, I have a wide range of characters I will write for, and I will add a list of the oneshots that I have already written and post under the cut at the end of this post.
This blog is merely for entertainment, and if anyone is coming at me for whatever I will not hesitate to block you. I just want to share the characters that I love, if you have a character (I mainly write for animated characters) that you would love a one shot about please do tell! Maybe I know them and write you something for that character!
Now the rules,
I only write oneshots!!! No headcanons or whatever!!! Please don't ask for that!!
I also only write for fem!reader or nonbinary!reader!!! Sorry to all my men out there, but I just don't feel confident enough to write a story for a male reader
If you don't want me to call you y/n please tell me! I won't do any OC insert, but I can use ____ to indicate where you can put your name in!!
And also, if I overlook or just won't answer your ask please don't think I have forgotten it! I am most likely working on your request and or write a reply to you!!
Character oneshots :
Revali :
Unspoken want - Revali x fem!reader [fluff]
Looking out for each other - Revali x fem!reader [fluff]
A nice trip around castle town - Revali x fem!reader [Fluff]
Luigi :
Professor Layton :
Their Place - Desmond Sycamore x fem!reader [fluff]
Avengers :
Snatcher :
Terms & Conditions (And Other Ways to Lose Your Heart) - Snatcher x fem!reader [fluff]
A day almost forgotten - Vincent Whittman x fem!reader [Fluff]
After the forgotten surprise, the both of them make their way to the aquarium where Vincent truly gets his moment to shine.
A/n : Vincent might be a bit OOC, (his possessiveness just doesn't show), it is implied that the reader is his wife
The quiet hum of the city outside was still half-asleep when you stirred. Pale morning light spilled through the curtains in soft slivers, painting the sheets in gold. You reached beside you out of habit, fingers brushing the cool, empty space where Vincent should’ve been. The gentle chill pulled a small frown to your lips. Normally, he was the one to linger, tangled in blankets until the last possible minute.
Drawing the blanket tighter around your shoulders, you swung your legs off the side of the bed and padded to the kitchen, yawning into your sleeve. The smell hit first—warm butter, fresh coffee, and something sweet—followed by the faint echo of soft humming.
Vincent was there, sleeves rolled up, hair still a little messy from sleep, moving around the kitchen like he’d woken hours ago. A few containers were laid open on the counter, already half-filled with cut fruit and sandwiches. On the table, plates were waiting—scrambled eggs, pancakes, and two mugs steaming gently.
For a minute, you just stood in the doorway, smiling. It felt like one of those quiet snapshots of happiness that you wish you could bottle forever.
He noticed you then. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he said, voice laced with warmth. Without hesitation, he crossed the space and wrapped his arms around you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
“You’re up early,” you said, muffled against his chest.
He chuckled. “Had a few ideas bouncing around. Figured I’d make breakfast before they ran away.”
When he led you to your seat, you couldn’t help noticing how meticulously he’d prepared everything—the crisp napkins, the golden toast stacked perfectly. You sat down, taking a sip of coffee, watching him as he joined you, eyes bright with that familiar spark of energy.
“I’ve been thinking,” he began between bites. “We haven’t gone out together in a while—just us. What would you say to a little date? Maybe later today?”
You blinked once, twice—and then the realization hit like a lightning bolt.
“Oh no,” you whispered. “Oh no.”
You jumped up so fast your chair scraped loudly against the floor. Vincent startled, eyebrows raised as you darted out of the kitchen.
From the other room came the sound of frantic rummaging, followed by the crinkle of paper and your slightly frantic muttering. You returned seconds later, breathless, cheeks pink, two tickets triumphantly clutched in your hand.
“I—uh—I already planned one!” you blurted, laughing nervously. “The aquarium! I meant to tell you two weeks ago, but I, um, forgot.”
Vincent blinked at you, lips parting in surprise before melting into a wide, almost boyish grin. “You’re serious?”
You nodded, still embarrassed. “If it’s too sudden—”
He reached out, fingers brushing over yours before pulling you gently close again. “Too sudden? Y/n, you just combined a date and one of my favorite places. This is the best surprise I’ve had in ages.”
By the time you were both dressed and out the door, the early sunshine had brightened into a clear, crisp day. The drive was calm, music low, punctuated by the soft sound of Vincent’s humming and your shared glances between traffic lights. It was the kind of quiet companionship that didn’t need words.
When you finally arrived, Vincent was already halfway out of the car, practically vibrating with barely-contained excitement. The moment you shut your door, he grabbed your hand, his grin lighting up his whole face.
“Come on! Wait until you see the new shark tank exhibit—they added a sandbar shark last month!” he said enthusiastically, tugging you toward the entrance.
Inside, the cool air was filled with the faint scent of saltwater and the soft ripple of bubbles. Light from the massive tanks danced across the floor and brushed against your joined hands. Vincent’s energy was infectious; he pointed out species, named corals, and explained the way fish. schools moved together like a single mind.
When you reached the shark tunnel, he practically lit up. You watched as his reflection shimmered against the glass, his expression glowing like a child seeing magic for the first time. His enthusiasm made the water come alive—every explanation, every excited gesture pulled you further into his awe.
You tucked yourself closer to his side, your hands still intertwined. “You never get tired of this, do you?” you asked softly.
“Not even a little,” he said, voice reverent as he followed a hammerhead gliding above. “They’re… peaceful. Most people don’t see that.”
You smiled, watching the blue glow dance across his face. “You see everything in them.”
He turned then, eyes meeting yours, expression softening into something tender. “Only because you see everything in me.”
The words hung between you, carried by the hum of water and faint light. You squeezed his hand tighter, leaning against him as you both stood before the sharks in comfortable silence.
Hours later, as daylight faded and the aquarium lights dimmed, you found yourselves sitting on a bench outside, sharing the sandwiches he’d packed that morning. The world had gone quiet again—just the two of you, the smell of salt in the air, and Vincent’s hand resting over yours.
“Next time,” he said with a sleepy smile, “we’ll have to come back in the evening. The jellyfish exhibit glows in the dark.”
You nodded. “It’s a date.”
And as the sky shifted into dusk, you leaned your head on his shoulder, his gentle laughter blending with the sound of the passing cars, your hearts quietly in sync.
A disturbed routine can shine a lot of light into a predicament.
The penthouse had gone quiet after Vox left for work. Usually, the morning hum of V-tower felt distant and harmless from your spot in bed. But today, when you finally blinked awake, your head was pounding and your throat felt like sandpaper. The light from the windows seemed sharper, harsher. Every sound pressed against your skull.
You groaned, curling tighter under the blanket. So much for getting up. The only thing you could bring yourself to do was stare weakly at your phone, search something halfheartedly, and scroll — anything that distracted from how miserable you felt. Your nose kept running; tissues were piling up fast.
Meanwhile, miles away in his office tower, Vox noticed something unusual on his feed: no morning text. That was weird. You always sent one before he even loaded his first ad stream.
Then he saw you were online. His static flared in concern before he even realized what he was doing. One blink — and he’d zapped out of a camera feed, the next moment stepping into your bedroom through a shimmer of blue light.
The moment Vox stepped into the room, the low hum of electronics seemed to fade. The soft whir of the city outside filtered through the glass walls, but he only focused on the small lump curled in bed, half-buried under a nest of tissues.
He let out a quiet sigh — one part relief, one part irritation at himself for not realizing sooner. “Angel, you look like you fought a blender and lost,” he said, voice glitching slightly at the edges as he walked up to the bed.
Without waiting for an answer, he gripped the edge of the blanket and peeled it back just enough to see your face. Your cheeks were flushed, your hair a mess, your nose red. You squinted at him through watery eyes, confusion briefly chasing away your exhaustion.
“...Vox? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at work,” you mumbled, voice raw and half-hidden in the pillow.
“Yeah, about that,” he said, leaning on the bedframe with mock nonchalance. “Hard to focus when my favorite person forgets her good‑morning text.”
You frowned and reached for the blanket, pulling it back over your face. “I feel like crap. Go back to your tower.”
He chuckled lightly, fingers lightly gripping the comforter again before letting it fall back in place, deciding not to push further — for the moment. “You’re adorable when you threaten me,” he said softly, more to himself than to you.
He stood upright again, flicking his fingers to summon a digital screen midair. His thumbs moved quickly as he sent a message to his assistant: “Soup. My suite. Hot. Now.” A soft “ding” confirmed delivery, and he sighed through a smile.
Then he turned back toward you, gaze softening. You’d started coughing again, clutching the blanket around yourself like it could shield you from everything miserable. Vox walked back to the bed, set his holo‑device aside, and with one smooth motion, slipped a hand under the blanket’s edge and lifted it again.
This time, you glared at him from under your arm. “Vox, stop doing that!” you croaked, voice muffled through congestion.
“Can’t help it,” he teased gently, sliding in beside you without hesitation. The movement made you shift automatically, scooting to give him space even as you groaned.
“You’ll catch it too, you know,” you warned, a weak rasp threading through the words.
“Let me worry about that,” he said quietly. He tucked the blanket back around both of you, sealing out the world with a soft cocoon of warmth. His metallic fingers brushed the side of your arm until you gave in and relaxed against him.
“Now stay still,” he murmured, soup forgotten, holding you close as your breathing steadied, the static from his chest emitting a low, soothing thrum. “You’re safe. I’ll handle everything else.”
Your last conscious thought before drifting off was the faint vibration of his heart — artificial, steady — syncing to the rhythm of your own.
Quiet Frequencies - Vox x fem!reader [Fluff](Short oneshot)
After a long day, Vox really needs the comfort of his bed, and partner.
The elevator doors slid open with a tired hiss, spilling golden light into the penthouse. Vox stepped out, tie loose, static flickering faintly at the edges of his face — the kind of glitch that came only after a truly hellish day. Numbers still scrolled behind his eyes, echoes of arguments and failed deals bouncing around the circuits of his mind.
You were already waiting for him. The soft hum of the city came through the tall glass panes, but the room itself was calm — all silver tones and moonlight. When Vox finally looked your way, his screen-flicker softened.“Rough one?” you asked quietly.
He gave a short laugh, dry and bitter. “You have no idea. I swear, if one more idiot at the board talks about ratings—” He stopped himself, waving one hand in exasperation. You smiled and rised, crossing the room to his closet.
While he launched into a rant — voice sharp, gestures perfectly dramatic — you pulled out his favorite soft robe and laid it on the stand. Each complaint seemed to burn itself out faster as he stripped off the suit jacket and slipped into something comfortable. His voice lost the static-grind edge, replaced by a sigh that almost sounded human.
You gestured toward the bed. “Come on. You can crash now.”Vox didn’t argue. He let you guide him down, his weight pressing against you as he lay with his head on your chest. For once, he didn’t speak. Only the faint hum of his circuitry filled the silence, syncing slowly with your heartbeat.
You rubbed small circles into his back. The tension bled away bit by bit — his screens dimmed, his breathing evened out.
When the static finally went quiet, you smiled to yourself. “Sleep, Vox. The tower can wait till morning.
”He didn’t answer, but his last sigh buzzed faintly with gratitude.
I LOVE THEM!! I will write all three of them and drop them when they are all done, if you want to stay anonymous you can stay that way, but if you would like to be tagged in the oneshots I would gladly do so!!
A note to everyone : I am starting a Tag list! Just send me an ask telling me you want to be added and you will be automatically tagged in the next oneshot of the fandom you want to be tagged in!!
A nice trip around castle town - Revali x fem!reader [Fluff]
The Rito Champion, being bombarded with fans of all kinds, got his peace through a familiar garment
The cobbled streets of Hyrule Castle Town buzzed with an energy Revali usually found… tolerable. Today, however, it was reaching unprecedented levels of adoration, all directed at him. As the Rito Champion, his distinctive blue scarf and regal bearing made him instantly recognizable, a fact he usually took pride in. Today, walking alongside Y/n, it was becoming a bit of a hindrance.
"Champion Revali! What an honor!"
"Look, it's the hero of the skies!"
"May I just say, your aerial maneuvers are unparalleled!"
Cheers and questions erupted from every stall, every passerby. Revali offered a few tight-lipped smiles and nods, trying to navigate the throng while maintaining some semblance of his usual dignified stride. He glanced over at Y/n, expecting her to at least offer some sympathy, or perhaps a supportive hand on his wing.
Instead, she was openly laughing. Her eyes, sparkling with amusement, met his for a brief moment before she just shook her head, a soft giggle escaping her lips. Then, without another word, she continued walking, weaving through the admiring crowd with surprising ease, leaving him to fend for himself.
Revali huffed, an exasperated sigh escaping his beak. "Honestly, Y/n, a little assistance would not go amiss!" he muttered, though she was already too far ahead to hear him. He doubled his efforts, a faint blush dusting his feathery cheeks as he politely (or as politely as a Rito Champion could manage) excused himself past a particularly enthusiastic group of children.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of being praised, questioned, and admired, he broke free of the main crush. He took a deep breath, smoothing his feathers, and looked around for Y/n. She was standing by a fabric stall, casually examining some silks. He made his way over, ready to launch into a mild complaint about her desertion.
Before he could utter a word, a soft, familiar weight was unceremoniously shoved into his face. He flinched, pulling the item away to examine it. It was a scarf, but not his usual Champion's adornment. This one was a deep, muted beige, slightly frayed at the edges, and undeniably… his old one. The very scarf he had worn before the calamity, before the Champions, before all the fanfare.
He looked at the familiar fabric, then up at Y/n, utterly confused. Her smile was still playing on her lips, but her eyes held a mischievous twinkle.
"What… is this, Y/n?" he asked, holding up the forgotten accessory.
She just reached out, gently pulling the new (old) scarf from his grasp and, with practiced movements, tied it around his neck, neatly tucking in the ends to conceal the vibrant blue of his Champion's scarf beneath. She stepped back, admiring her handiwork.
"Well," she said, a playful lilt in her voice, "you wouldn't get noticed so easily with this, would you? Not like with… that." She gestured subtly at the barely visible blue peeking from beneath the green.
Revali stared at her for a long moment, then down at the subdued beige fabric. He tried to muster an indignant retort, but a small, reluctant smile began to tug at the corners of his beak. She had a point. And perhaps, just perhaps, a quieter shopping trip with Y/n wasn't such a bad idea after all.
"Right," he conceded, adjusting the old scarf. "Let's just try to get some actual shopping done this time, shall we?"
Y/n linked her arm through his, her laughter a soft, pleasant sound in his ears. "Lead the way, my Champion."
Jean Descole/Desmond Sycamore x Reader for the requests? :0
I don't mind fem or NB, whichever one you feel like, no preference. :)
As far as ideas for the fic go, I'd climb up the walls and ceiling for some touch-heavy fluff & flirting. Established relationship or pre relationship mutual yearning would both be great either way. I'm sooo excited to see someone writing for the Layton fandom! I hope you have a fantastic day <3
Their Place - Desmond Sycamore x fem!reader [fluff]
An anniversary with a hint of sass but a whole lot of appreciation
This can be read as them celebrating their wedding anniversary or them celebrating being together for a while, your pick <3
A/N: Thank you for the request! I loved working on this and I hope that you like this!!! btw. Professor Layton is one of my fav fandoms, so I was so happy to receive this request!!!
The Bostonius had a way of making the air feel different.
It wasn’t just the faint vibration of the engines or the muted hiss of steam that curled somewhere deep in its belly — it was the sense of movement, of gliding forward into the unknown. To Y/n, it was intoxicating.
She sat curled in the co-pilot’s chair, her knees pulled up, cheek resting against the smooth leather armrest, watching the world drift far below. The clouds were lazy today, long white smudges in a pale blue sky, and the sunlight poured through the portholes in golden shafts.
Her gaze slid — inevitably — to the man at the helm.
Desmond Sycamore, as ever, was the picture of composure.
One hand on the wheel, the other resting easily on the arm of his chair, posture straight without being stiff. His dark hair caught the light in places, the shine softened by the ever-present breeze from the ventilation fans. He didn’t look at her, but the faint curve of his lips told her he knew she was watching.
She’d been trying to guess their destination since take-off.
She was terrible at it.
“So,” she said at last, breaking the comfortable hum of the cabin, “are you ever going to tell me where we’re going? Or should I just resign myself to the fact you’re a mystery I’ll never solve?”
Desmond’s eyes stayed on the view ahead. “Never is a strong word, Y/n. I think you could solve me if you tried.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Is that a challenge?”
“It’s an observation.” His voice had that smooth, infuriating lilt that told her he was enjoying this far too much. “And before you ask — no. I’m not telling you.”
Y/n groaned dramatically and flopped back in her chair, staring up at the polished ceiling. “You do realize I could just stand at the window until we land, right? One glimpse and I’ll know.”
“You won’t,” he said simply.
She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. “Confident, aren’t you?”
“Always.”
The flight stretched on, but the minutes never felt dull.
At one point, she wandered back into the galley to make herself tea, only to catch him glancing at something on the navigation panel before quickly sliding a hand into his coat pocket. Whatever it was, he tucked it away when she returned.
Interesting.
She didn’t press — Desmond’s secrets were half the fun.
The world outside shifted from sprawling plains to low, green hills dotted with wildflowers. The Bostonius sailed lower, the landscape details sharpening until she could make out the sway of grasses in the breeze.
“Are we… landing?” she asked, hope sparking in her chest.
“Mm.” Desmond adjusted the controls with practiced ease. “We are.”
Her excitement nearly burst out of her in a grin. She loved flying, but she loved arriving even more — the moment the ramp lowered and the scent of some new place rushed in.
The landing was smooth, the Bostonius settling onto a patch of soft earth with barely a jolt. Y/n had her bag slung over her shoulder in seconds, practically skipping toward the door.
But before she could barrel down the ramp, a warm hand caught her wrist.
She spun. “What—?”
Desmond stepped in behind her, and before she could process it, his hands were over her eyes.
“Desmond!” She laughed, reaching up to pull at his fingers, but he only tightened them slightly — not enough to hurt, but enough to keep her vision full of darkness.
“No peeking,” he murmured, close to her ear. His voice was deep, threaded with a smile she could hear.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you,” he said smoothly, “are impatient.”
“Guilty,” she admitted, giving up on prying his hands away. “Fine. Lead me, Captain Mystery.”
Desmond’s hands stayed firm over her eyes as they stepped off the Bostonius ramp.
“Alright,” Y/n said after a few cautious steps, “so… warm breeze, faint flower smell… We’re in a meadow.”
“Mm. That’s one guess,” he murmured, steering her gently to the right.
“A meadow on… the outskirts of some small village.”
“Nope.”
“A meadow and a lake?”
“Closer. But still wrong.” His tone was maddeningly smooth.
She tried again, tilting her head as if thinking harder would help. “Fine. A secret meadow in the countryside where you’ve hidden… treasure.”
“Now that,” he said with a low chuckle, “would be telling.”
Her grin was instant. “So I’m right?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.”
“Careful, Y/n. You know what happens when you try to beat me at my own game.”
She sighed dramatically, deciding to switch tactics. “Alright, one last guess. We’ve landed somewhere incredibly dangerous and you’re protecting me by covering my eyes.”
Desmond hummed thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t you hear screaming if that were the case?”
She snorted. “Unless you’ve already taken care of the danger.”
He was silent for a beat too long, and she couldn’t tell if he was teasing or actually considering her theory.
“Don’t flatter me,” he said at last.
“Oh, I intend to,” she replied.
He laughed — quiet, genuine, the sound sending a little rush of warmth through her. “We’re almost there.”
Her curiosity was burning by the time Desmond slowed.
“Ready?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” she said, almost bouncing in place.
The hands slipped away.
The sunlight hit her full force — and with it, the sight that stole her breath.
They stood on the crest of a hill that rolled gently into a valley awash with flowers. Yellow and violet blossoms swayed together like a living quilt, their colors rippling in the wind. The sky above was a perfect blue, unbroken by clouds.
And in front of her, on a blanket spread neatly over the grass, sat an entire picnic. A wooden bowl overflowed with strawberries, their skins glistening. Sandwiches were stacked beside them, their wrappings folded with care. Small packets of crackers, a jar of jam, and — she nearly gasped — golden croissants oozing chocolate from their ends.
She turned to him, eyes shining.
Then she launched herself into his arms.
He laughed, warm and unguarded, catching her easily and pulling her against his chest.
“Happy anniversary,” he murmured, lips brushing her hair.
They’d barely settled onto the blanket before Y/n eyed the chocolate croissant like a predator spotting prey. She took one from the basket and took a bite, crumbs staining her lips.
Desmond raised an eyebrow. “I see patience is no longer part of your skillset.”
“Was it ever?” she asked through a grin.
He gave a small shrug. “I suppose not.”
They passed the food between them — a sandwich for him, some strawberry for her, small crackers and jam spread on napkins.
At some point, Y/n picked up a grape, held it up like a tiny jewel, and said, “Open.”
Desmond gave her a suspicious look but parted his lips slightly. She tossed the grape — it missed by a good margin, bouncing off his shoulder and rolling onto the blanket.
She broke into laughter, doubling over.
“You’re hopeless,” he said, shaking his head, though the corners of his mouth betrayed him.
“You’re just bad at catching.”
“You have terrible aim.”
She gasped, mock-offended. “Excuse me, but I’ve been practicing.”
“Practicing missing?”
“Oh, you’re insufferable.” She tossed another grape — this one he caught effortlessly, chewing with maddening composure.
“See?” he said. “It’s not me. It’s you.”
“You’re impossible.”
“That’s why you like me.”
She froze for just a second — enough for him to catch the faint smile tugging at her lips before she looked away. “Maybe.”
The afternoon unfolded like the sky — unhurried, warm. They talked about everything and nothing, traded stories from past adventures, and fell into comfortable silences that said more than words could.
As the sun began to sink, casting the hill in honey-gold, Y/n suddenly remembered.
“Oh!” She sat up too quickly.
Desmond, leaning against her shoulder, fell back into the grass with a faint “oof,” giving her an amused look.
She rummaged in her bag, pulling out a small box wrapped in ribbon, and held it out to him.
“For you.”
He took it, untying the ribbon slowly, as though savoring the anticipation. Inside lay a fine golden necklace and a charm shaped exactly like the Bostonius.
His eyes softened.
“It’s so you can take our adventures with you,” she explained quietly.
For a moment, he said nothing — then leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, lingering just enough to make her heart skip.
Before she could recover, he reached into his coat and drew out a small box of his own, setting it in front of her.
She blinked at him. “What’s this?”
“Something I thought you might need,” he said, “though it’s not nearly as clever as yours.”
She undid the ribbon and opened it — and froze.
Inside, nestled on dark velvet, was a glass flower Bucay, identical to the one he’d given her the day he’d first asked her out.
Her throat tightened. “Desmond…”
“I wanted to remind you,” he said softly, “that our love doesn’t fade. Like this flower — it’s as beautiful now as the day we began. And I hope it always will be.”
Her vision blurred. She threw her arms around his neck, laughing and crying all at once, kissing his cheek, his jaw, anywhere she could reach.
He held her close, murmuring, “I love you,” into her hair.
“I love you too,” she whispered back.
They stayed there until the first stars pricked the sky. The air cooled, but neither moved, curled together on their hill surrounded by flowers.
Terms & Conditions (And Other Ways to Lose Your Heart) - Snatcher x fem!reader [fluff]
As she finished her contract, she wished she could extend it... Just for a bit longer
Y/n never planned on signing a contract with a shadowy, overdramatic… thing. But here she was, standing knee-deep in the Subcon Forest, ink still drying on the parchment that bound her fate.
Snatcher lounged — if you could call floating ominously while radiating smugness “lounging” — with that toothy grin plastered across his face.
“Oh-ho, look at you! My brand-new little… minion,” he said, voice dripping with mischief. “Ready to do everything I say for the rest of eternity?”
“It says right here it’s until I finish your list of tasks,” Y/n countered, waving the contract.
He leaned in, eyes narrowing like a cat spotting a shiny object.
“Pfft. Details. You’re no fun when you read the fine print.”
The first days of work were… well, “work” might be a stretch. Sure, some tasks were dangerous — ghosts, traps, general death hazards — but Y/n found herself almost enjoying the bizarre errands. Maybe it was the way Snatcher narrated everything she did like a sports commentator with a grudge. Maybe it was because, underneath all the dramatic threats and “mwahaha”s, he seemed… lonely.
It started on the third week.
After a long day retrieving some cursed trinket, Y/n found herself in Snatcher’s little tree stump earlier than expected. He looked over from his chair in mock surprise.
“Back already? I thought you’d be tangled in some vine screaming for dear life by now.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” she said, brushing off her coat.
“Hmph. Well, since you’re here… I suppose I can let you see my pile of books.”
That’s how she learned that the big, spooky ghost had a collection of books that rivaled any human scholar’s. He called them “light reading,” but the pile was full of everything from poisoning the Mafia guys to ridiculous romance novels. Sometimes they’d read silently in the same room, other times he’d dramatically recite passages — usually the most embarrassing ones — in his booming voice.
“Listen to this, ‘Her heart pounded as he drew nearer…’ Oh, this is gold! I can’t believe you humans eat this up.”
Y/n rolled her eyes but didn’t stop him. There was something oddly comforting about the way his voice filled the room.
Days turned into weeks, and their banter became familiar. She didn’t tell him she liked being here. He didn’t tell her he liked having her around. But it was there, in the pauses between jokes.
One chilly morning, Snatcher handed her the last task.
“Well, well, well… this is it. The grand finale! Fetch me this last little trinket from the dark well you cleaned up at the start of your contract and you’re free as a bird. You’ll run off into the sunset, forget all about me, and I’ll… find some other poor soul to torment.”
It was said lightly, but something in his tone caught her off guard.
The job was dangerous, but she got it done. When she returned, breathless and muddy, she handed him the artifact. He examined it with exaggerated care.
“Huh. You actually didn’t break it. Impressive, kid.”
“That’s it then,” she said quietly. “I’m… done.”
For a moment, they just looked at each other. Then Snatcher’s grin returned.
“Yup! You’re off the hook. No more contracts. No more running around for me. You can leave whenever you want.”
He made it sound like nothing. She forced a smile and walked away.
The forest felt emptier without her footsteps. Snatcher told himself he was fine — he had books, souls to bargain for, a whole cursed forest to haunt.
But the silence sat heavy.
“Hah… pathetic,” he muttered to himself one night, staring at the empty spot where she used to sit with her tea.
Y/n wasn’t doing any better. The freedom she’d thought she wanted felt hollow. No snide comments about her pace, no booming laughter when she tripped over roots. She missed the way he’d pretend not to care while actually making sure she got back safe.
By the seventh day, she couldn’t take it anymore.
The moment she stepped into the Subcon Forest again, the air seemed… warmer. She didn’t stop until she reached his clearing. He appeared instantly, like he’d been waiting.
“Well, well, well. Look who came crawling back. Couldn’t stay away from my irresistible charm, could you?
She laughed, breathless. “Actually… yeah. I missed you.”
That wiped the grin from his face for a fraction of a second.
“Tch. You humans and your feelings.”
“I’m serious, Snatcher. I liked being here. I like you.”
He froze, then drifted closer. His voice was quieter than she’d ever heard it.
“…You’re supposed to leave, y’know. That’s how this works.”
“I don’t care,” she said, stepping forward. “I want to stay. With you.”
For a long moment, neither spoke. Then he sighed — an exaggerated, theatrical sigh — and held out a shadowy hand.
“Fine, fine… but if you tell anyone I’m going soft, I’ll deny it.”
She took his hand. His grin returned, smaller but real this time. She pulled him into a hug, feeling his inky form curl around her like mist. Before she stepped back, she kissed his cheek.
He blinked.
“…That’s illegal.”
“Too late,” she said, lacing her fingers with his.
She was his shadow - Until jinx dragged them into the light
Zaun never slept.
It shifted. It hummed. It breathed like a restless animal, and the sound of it was always in the background — a low, steady thrum beneath the walls. Inside Silco’s office, the noise was reduced to a faint echo, the windows muting the chaos of the streets below.
The light in the room came from two sources: a desk lamp casting a gold glow over scattered ledgers, and the dull blue haze that bled in from the outside through grime-streaked glass.
Silco was behind his desk, one arm resting on the chair, the other moving in deliberate strokes as he wrote.
Y/n stood to the side, a stack of shipment reports in her hands. She’d been here long enough to understand the rhythm of these moments: quiet efficiency, minimal conversation, the click and scratch of pen on paper filling the space between them. She was his shadow, in more ways than one — present without demanding attention, anticipating needs before they were voiced.
“The shipment from the docks?” Silco asked without looking up.
She opened the top folder. “Arrived this morning. Three crates. All intact.”
A faint nod. The answer satisfied him. His gaze stayed on the page in front of him, though she felt the weight of his attention nonetheless — not in a romantic way, she reminded herself, but in the way Silco evaluated every tool he kept close.
She crossed the room and set the papers in a neat stack at the corner of his desk. Their fingers brushed when he took them, a brief contact, incidental. Still, something in her chest tightened before she smoothed her expression again.
The quiet resumed. The tick of the clock grew louder. She used the time to scan the shelves for an updated inventory list, though she knew exactly where every document was — busy hands meant a steady mask.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway was different this time — lighter, less consistent, a kind of skipping rhythm. Y/n knew before the door swung open that it would be her.
“Boss!”
Jinx’s voice burst into the room like a match hitting powder. She bounded inside, braids bouncing, a smudge of soot streaked across her cheek.
Silco didn’t look up immediately. “Jinx.”
“Guess what?” She hopped onto the corner of his desk, ignoring the stack of papers she nearly knocked over.
“You’re early,” Y/n said, calm as ever.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Jinx shrugged, eyes darting between them. “Figured I’d visit. Check in. Bring the party.”
“You bring trouble,” Silco corrected, setting his pen down.
“Same thing.”
Y/n’s lips almost curved, but she stopped herself. Jinx noticed anyway. Her sharp eyes flicked back to her, and a slow grin crept across her face — the kind that meant she’d spotted something she wasn’t supposed to.
The rest of the day passed without incident, but Y/n caught Jinx watching her more than once. That look — half curious, half mischievous — put her on edge.
It wasn’t until later, when Y/n was locking up the side entrance after moving a crate shipment, that she found Jinx leaning against the wall, waiting.
“Sooo…” Jinx began, stretching the word out. “How long you been into him?”
Y/n froze, keys in hand. “…What?”
“Don’t play dumb.” Jinx tilted her head. “The way you look at him. The way you’re all—” she stiffened her shoulders, imitating Y/n’s composed posture with an exaggerated mock-serious face. “All business, but your eyes go soft. It’s gross.”
Heat pricked the back of Y/n’s neck. “I’m his assistant. I’m professional.”
“Uh-huh.” Jinx smirked. “And I’m a nun.”
“Jinx—”
“I mean, I get it.” She leaned in, voice dropping like they were conspiring. “He’s powerful. Smart. Scary. Got that whole broody thing going. And, y’know… he’s not bad to look at, for an old guy.”
Y/n sighed. “Drop it.”
But Jinx’s grin widened. “You do like him. I knew it.”
Something in Y/n’s carefully built walls cracked. “…Fine. Yes. Happy?”
“Very,” Jinx said instantly. Then, with the tone of someone announcing their next great invention: “I’m gonna set you two up.”
Y/n straightened. “Absolutely not.”
“Too late, already planning it,” Jinx sang, skipping off down the hall.
From that moment, Y/n’s days became… complicated.
Jinx’s “plans” weren’t subtle. One morning, she deliberately misplaced documents so Y/n had to sit next to Silco for an hour sorting through them. Another time, she shoved an extra cup of coffee into Y/n’s hands and told her to deliver it personally — making sure Silco saw her lingering by his desk.
Silco noticed the disruptions. Of course he did. But he didn’t comment. Not directly. There were times, though, when his gaze lingered on her a fraction longer than necessary, like he was trying to piece something together.
Y/n told herself she could ignore it. That her feelings didn’t matter as long as she did her job. But the more Jinx meddled, the harder it became to keep her mask in place.
The turning point came after a late-night meeting with a chem baron that went sideways. Y/n had stepped in front of Silco without hesitation when tempers flared — a move that earned her a split lip but avoided a gun being drawn.
When they were finally alone, Silco’s voice was low, dangerous. “Don’t ever put yourself between me and a weapon again.”
She met his gaze evenly. “I’m not going to stand by and watch you take a bullet.”
His eyes narrowed — not in anger, but in that deep, calculating way that saw more than she wanted him to.
Later, in the quiet of the office, he set down his pen. “Jinx has been… interfering.”
Y/n froze mid-step. “…I’ve noticed.”
“She seems to think there’s something between us.”
She forced a steady breath. “She’s mistaken.”
His gaze held hers, unblinking. “Is she?”
The air between them tightened, thick with all the things she’d never dared to say.
“…No,” she admitted finally, voice almost a whisper. “She’s not.”
Silco rose slowly from his chair, coming around the desk. “And yet you’ve said nothing.”
“You’re—” she swallowed. “You’re Silco. You have Zaun on your shoulders. I’m your assistant. It’s not my place.”
He stopped in front of her, close enough that she could see the different shades in his one good eye. “You’ve been at my side for years, Y/n. Loyal. Unflinching. You think I wouldn’t notice?”
Her breath caught.
He reached up, his gloved fingers brushing her jaw — careful, deliberate. “If you want to stand in my shadow… fine. But don’t pretend you’re not mine.”
The admission left her stunned. “So you—”
“Yes,” he said simply. “I have for some time.”
It wasn’t a grand confession. It wasn’t soft. But it was Silco — direct, absolute. And when he leaned in, his lips finding hers, the kiss was slow but certain, sealing what had been years in the making.
From the doorway, there was a muffled, exaggerated whisper: “Called it.”
They broke apart to see Jinx smirking, arms folded. Silco sighed. “Get out.” But Y/n caught the small, satisfied grin he tried to hide as Jinx skipped away.
Looking out for each other - Revali x fem!reader [fluff]
Y/n wants to give Revali some space without him noticing... Well he did notice
Y/n awoke to the gentle rise and fall of Revali’s chest beneath her, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling her into a sense of peace. The morning light filtered softly through the cracks in the walls of the hut, casting a warm glow over everything. She blinked sleepily, her vision filled with the sight of Revali’s chest fluff, soft and warm against her cheek. She couldn’t help but smile, snuggling deeper into him, savoring the rare opportunity to be this close.
She loved mornings like this—waking up in the warmth of his embrace, feeling his strong wings around her, even if they were only loosely draped over her. It was in these quiet moments that she felt the most connected to him, when he was just Revali, not the Champion burdened with duty and expectations. Here, in the stillness of the early morning, he was hers.
Y/n breathed in his familiar scent, a mix of the wind and the fresh mountain air, and sighed contentedly. She knew how much it meant that he allowed her to sleep beside him, to cuddle close like this. Revali was not one to easily let down his guard, even around those he cared about. The fact that he trusted her enough to share his space, to let her see him in his most vulnerable state, meant everything to her.
But as much as she wanted to stay wrapped up in his warmth, Y/n knew she needed to get up. She carefully began to untangle herself from his embrace, trying her best not to disturb him. She moved slowly, her movements precise and gentle, not wanting to wake him. He rarely got to enjoy a day off, and she wanted him to have as much rest as possible.
Once she finally freed herself from the hammock, Y/n tiptoed across the room, glancing back at Revali to ensure he was still asleep. He looked so peaceful, his usually sharp features softened in sleep. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she watched him for a moment longer, then she quietly made her way to a corner of the room, picking up a book she’d been reading the night before.
As she settled into the chair, Y/n couldn’t help but reflect on the time she’d spent with Revali. She adored him—his strength, his confidence, even his occasional arrogance—but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was holding herself back. She loved being affectionate with him, loved giving hugs and holding his hand, but lately, she’d noticed how stiff he became whenever she did. It was as if he didn’t know how to relax around her, and the thought saddened her.
Y/n let out a quiet sigh, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of the book’s pages. She hated that she felt the need to temper her own energy, to hold back her enthusiasm just to make sure he was comfortable. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be herself around him, but she didn’t want to overwhelm him either. She’d started to wonder if maybe she was asking too much of him, if perhaps her desires for affection were burdensome.
Deep in her thoughts, Y/n didn’t notice when Revali stirred in the hammock. He awoke to find the space beside him empty, and for a moment, his heart sank. He had grown so accustomed to waking up with her by his side, the warmth of her presence grounding him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed. When he looked down from the hammock, he spotted her sitting in the corner, a book in her hands, and a small smile of relief crept onto his face.
Ever the performer, Revali decided to make a grand entrance, as if his morning wasn’t complete without a touch of flair. He stretched his wings wide before leaping gracefully from the hammock, landing with a soft thud that caught Y/n’s attention.
Y/n looked up from her book, startled at first, but then she laughed softly, her smile returning. “Good morning, Revali,” she greeted him warmly, setting the book aside. “I made breakfast for you.”
Revali blinked in surprise, his heart warming at her thoughtfulness. “You did?” He didn’t often have someone do such things for him, and the gesture touched him more than he let on. “Thank you, Y/n.”
She simply nodded, her smile softening as she motioned toward the table where the meal she’d prepared was laid out. He approached and sat down to eat, savoring the flavors and appreciating the care she’d put into the meal.
As he ate, Revali glanced over at Y/n, who had returned to her book. But something felt off. She was too quiet, too reserved. Usually, she would be chatting away, filling the room with her bright energy, but today she seemed distant. It was unusual, and Revali couldn’t shake the feeling that something was bothering her.
He set down his fork, his gaze lingering on her. “Y/n,” he called out, his voice gentle but firm, “is something wrong?”
Y/n looked up, her eyes meeting his, and she forced a smile. “Oh, no, everything’s fine. Why do you ask?”
Revali wasn’t convinced. He knew her well enough to sense when something was amiss. “You’re being unusually quiet,” he pointed out, his tone softening as he continued, “It’s not like you.”
Y/n hesitated, her fingers curling around the edges of her book. She hadn’t meant to worry him, but now that he had asked, she wasn’t sure how to explain without sounding silly. “I just... didn’t want to bother you,” she admitted finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know how much you value your space, and I didn’t want to overwhelm you with my... well, with my usual self.”
Revali frowned slightly, confusion and concern mingling in his expression. “Bother me? Y/n, you’ve never bothered me,” he said, his tone earnest. “Why would you think that?”
Y/n bit her lip, her gaze dropping to her lap. “Because... you always seem so stiff when I’m being affectionate,” she confessed, her voice tinged with vulnerability. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so I’ve been trying to hold back.”
Revali’s eyes softened as her words sunk in. He hadn’t realized how his reactions had affected her, how she had interpreted his stiffness as discomfort rather than his own uncertainty. He wasn’t used to such open displays of affection, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want them—especially not from her.
“Y/n,” he began gently, standing up and walking over to where she sat. He crouched down in front of her, taking her hands in his wings. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to hold back. I’m... not always good at showing it, but I do appreciate your affection. It’s just... new for me.”
Y/n looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise. “Really?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. “I thought... I thought maybe you didn’t like it.”
Revali shook his head, a small, sincere smile tugging at his beak. “It’s not that I don’t like it. I’m just... adjusting. But I don’t want you to change who you are or how you express yourself. I care about you, Y/n, and I want you to feel comfortable being yourself around me.”
Y/n felt a wave of relief wash over her, and she squeezed his wings gently. “I care about you too, Revali. I just didn’t want to push you away.”
“You’re not pushing me away,” Revali assured her, his voice steady. “If anything, you’re helping me to open up more. I’m just... not as good at it as you are.”
Y/n smiled, her heart swelling with affection for him. “We can work on it together,” she offered, her voice lightening. “I’ll try not to overwhelm you, and you can let me know if you need space. We’ll find a balance.”
Revali nodded, a warm feeling spreading through his chest. “That sounds like a good plan.”
With that, Y/n leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him in a gentle hug. Revali hesitated only for a moment before returning the embrace, pulling her close. It wasn’t as stiff as before, and Y/n could feel the sincerity in his touch.
As they held each other, Revali realized just how much he had come to rely on her presence, how much he cherished these moments of closeness. He might not have been used to it, but he knew one thing for certain—he didn’t want to lose it.
When they finally pulled apart, Y/n’s eyes were bright with happiness, and Revali felt a sense of peace settle over him. The morning had started with uncertainty, but now, as they sat together, he knew that they would be alright. They would find their way, together.
Y/n was sitting with Revali in his hut, him working on his bow while she sat across from him, trying to stay focused with her book, without making her desire for some closure to obvious.
The evening was peaceful in Revali’s hut, the warm glow of the lanterns casting a gentle light over the space. Outside, the wind carried a soft melody through the air, a constant companion in Rito Village. Revali was seated on his favorite perch, focused intently on adjusting his bow. He worked with careful precision, the soft sounds of feathers brushing against wood and string filling the air.
Across the room, y/n sat comfortably in a chair, a book in her hands. She was trying to immerse herself in the story, but her attention kept drifting to the Rito Champion. The sight of him, so calm and absorbed in his work, made her heart flutter. She longed to be closer to him, to feel the warmth of his presence, but she was hesitant. Revali wasn’t one to express affection openly, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by asking for something so simple as physical closeness.
Still, the yearning wouldn’t go away. She glanced at him again, and after a moment of internal debate, she decided to make a small move. Y/n stood up quietly, keeping her movements slow and deliberate, so as not to disturb him. She crossed the room and sat down next to him on the perch, close enough to feel his warmth, but not touching him.
Revali noticed her movement but didn’t react immediately. He continued working on his bow, his focus seemingly undisturbed, though he couldn’t help but feel a bit puzzled by her sudden proximity. Y/n wasn’t usually this bold in her actions, especially when he was so engrossed in something. It was... unexpected.
For a few minutes, they sat like that—Revali working, Y/n pretending to read her book. But her eyes were fixed on the pages, not absorbing a single word. She was too aware of him, of the space between them, and of the desire she was trying to suppress.
Eventually, Revali’s curiosity got the better of him. He paused his work and glanced sideways at her. “Y/n,” he began, his tone neutral but tinged with curiosity, “why did you move over here?”
Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t expected him to ask, at least not so soon. Quickly, she scrambled for an excuse, not wanting to admit her true feelings. “Oh, um... the wind was a bit strong over there,” she said, her voice steady but unconvincing. “I thought it would be more comfortable here.”
Revali turned his head fully to look at her, one eyebrow raised. The wind outside was nothing more than a gentle breeze, hardly noticeable within the warmth of the hut. He knew she was lying, and it didn’t take much to figure out why.
“Is that so?” Revali asked, his tone laced with skepticism. He set his bow down on his lap and fixed her with a knowing look. “Y/n, the wind isn’t strong at all tonight. What’s the real reason?”
Caught in the lie, Y/n’s face flushed a soft pink. She looked down at her book, suddenly finding the edges of the pages incredibly interesting. “I... I just wanted to be closer to you,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t want to bother you or make you uncomfortable.”
Revali’s expression softened slightly, his initial skepticism giving way to something gentler. Y/n’s honesty, as hesitant as it was, touched him in a way he didn’t expect. He was silent for a moment, processing her words, and then he spoke, his voice much softer than before.
“Y/n, you’re not bothering me,” he said, his eyes meeting hers with sincerity. “If you wanted to be close, you should have just said so.”
Y/n looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise. “I didn’t think you’d be okay with it,” she confessed, her voice still quiet. “You’re always so focused, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”
Revali let out a small sigh, though it wasn’t one of annoyance. He realized that she had been trying to respect his space, something he normally appreciated, but now it felt... unnecessary. She was important to him, and if she wanted to be close, he shouldn’t make her feel like she had to ask permission.
“I can be focused and still make time for you,” Revali replied, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on his beak. “I’m not as heartless as you might think.”
Y/n smiled back, her tension easing. “I don’t think you’re heartless, Revali. I just didn’t want to impose.”
Revali shook his head slightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the way they did when he was amused. “You could never impose, Y/n. If I didn’t want you here, I wouldn’t have let you stay.”
Y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. Revali wasn’t one to express his emotions openly, but when he did, it always meant something. She inched a bit closer to him, her heart fluttering as she gathered the courage to ask, “Would it be okay if I... leaned against you?”
Revali hesitated for only a moment before he nodded. “That’s fine,” he said, his voice a touch more serious, though not unkind. He wasn’t used to this level of closeness, but he wasn’t opposed to it either—especially not with her.
Y/n’s heart swelled with happiness as she gently leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. She could feel his warmth through his feathers, and the steady rise and fall of his breathing was comforting. She closed her eyes, finally feeling content.
Revali, for his part, remained still, adjusting to the new sensation of having someone so close. It was different, but not unpleasant. In fact, there was something calming about her presence, about the way she fit so naturally beside him.
After a while, Revali let out a soft breath, relaxing into the moment. He turned his head slightly, brushing his beak against the top of her head in a barely-there gesture of affection. “You don’t have to hide what you want from me, y/n,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper. “I might not always show it, but I don’t mind when you’re close.”
Y/n smiled against his shoulder, her heart full. “I’ll remember that,” she whispered back.
And for the rest of the evening, they sat together in comfortable silence—Revali with his bow resting in his lap, and Y/n with her book still open but long forgotten. The gentle wind outside carried on its song, but inside the hut, there was only the quiet contentment of two souls, close and at peace.
