Y/N has been by Tsukishima Kei and Yamaguchi Tadashi’s side since childhood, and now as Karasuno’s assistant manager, she watches from the sidelines as the team hosts a challenging practice with Karasuno High Volleyball Team. Amid spikes, blocks, and drills, Tsukishima’s sharp sarcasm and subtle cracks catch her attention, Yamaguchi cheers as always, and old bonds mingle with unspoken feelings, making the practice more than just a game.
In this Kuroko no Basket AU, Y/N grows up surrounded by warmth, laughter, and basketball as the cousin of Aomine Daiki, but her heart has always been tied to Murasakibara Atsushi, her gentle childhood friend who stayed constant even as life slowly pulled them onto different paths. Remaining close to the Generation of Miracles and Momoi Satsuki, Y/N watches friendships shift and ambitions grow, while her bond with Murasakibara stays soft and familiar through shared snacks, quiet companionship, and easy comfort. As time passes and they find their way back to each other, that simple closeness naturally deepens into love, showing that some feelings grow best when they are allowed to stay gentle.
At the prestigious Castelmore Academy, where royalty, heirs, and elites converge, Princess y/n is tasked with guiding the disciplined Russian crown prince, Ivan Volkov, through the school’s complex social world. Beneath Ivan’s calm and intimidating exterior, y/n discovers a playful and honest side, forming a unique and deep connection. Amid royal pressures, social politics, and personal interests, y/n must navigate the academy while staying true to herself.
Y/N is known as Number Eight of the Umbrella Academy, taken in by Sir Reginald Hargreeves after the original seven were already established. Her presence adds a quiet but notable shift to the family dynamic, drawing mixed reactions from the other siblings. Little is publicly known about her background or abilities, leaving her role within the Academy surrounded by mystery as events unfold.
After returning to her old neighborhood in Japan with her family for the first time in eight years, y/n is surprised to see Kei Tsukishima, now taller and older, arriving with his mother. Their families exchange polite greetings, but y/n attention is on Kei. They reminisce quietly about childhood memories the rain, ruined apples, and her first “arigato” and despite the years apart, the familiarity between them lingers. As their mothers call them inside for tea, a small gesture, Kei holding the gate open for her, reminds y/n that coming back might not feel so strange after all.
Thomas, Newt and Minho sat somewhere next to you during Bonfire. You sat and leaned lightly against the log by the fire, talking about various things that had happened to you all in the past. "I remember when Jane first came there. It was hilarious to be honest when some boys tried to hit on her." Newt said, making Thomas and Minho laugh.
(Y/N) is a Batkid, trained in the chaos and discipline of the Batfamily as the daughter of Bruce Wayne, fighting alongside her siblings in Gotham City. She faces threats in Gotham. Balancing family patrols and League missions. She’s still a teen who has fun with her friends and family.
The rain came suddenly that afternoon soft at first, then heavier, cold drops pelting the street. The girl clutched her jacket tight as she hurried home from the small corner store, the paper bag in her arms already damp from the downpour. She didn’t expect it to rain; the skies had been clear just an hour ago.
The A.P.A. lobby during break time existed in a fragile state of almost-calm, like it was holding its breath and failing. Soft lights buzzed overhead while couches sat slightly misaligned, one of them suspiciously hovering as Eivan lounged upside-down across it, lazily levitating a stress ball above his face with the bored precision of someone who insisted he didn’t care. Rosalyn sat on the floor nearby, legs folded neatly as thin vines crept unconsciously along the tiles around her, eyes bright with curiosity every time something moved on its own, while Arahbella stood off to the side with her arms crossed, posture rigid and expression unreadable, a faint chill frosting the edge of the nearest table simply because she existed. Cieltis had claimed two chairs and a table like a throne, sunglasses on indoors, humming loudly enough that the coffee machine rattled in complaint, forcing Adin—calm, steady, and already tired—to subtly reinforce the floor with emerald crystal before anything collapsed. When a mug tipped and was instantly saved by a vine, Eivan promptly lost focus and smacked himself in the face with the stress ball, prompting Rosalyn’s panicked concern, Arahbella’s icy refusal to help with “self-inflicted stupidity,” Cieltis’s dramatic laughter, and Adin’s quiet sigh as he wondered, not for the first time, how a simple break managed to look this much like a disaster waiting to happen.