#lads unrequited fic

[lazylattedgleam]

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LOST AMONG THE PAGES

(A Zayne x NONMC!Reader fic)

(Word count: ~3.7k)

(Credits: All images from the net. Except for the color editing and brush strokes and writing are made by me.)

(Credits: Pinterest)

*TW: Angst, maybe not well written, NON!MC Reader, Reader has Anemia, heavy blood loss during periods, fights, shouting, feeling of betrayal and heartbreak, shaking, crying, unrequited love.

*Index: Reader speeches are white, bold and italicised.

Zayne speeches are blue, bold and italicised.

MC speeches are pink, bold and italicised.

Others are white and just italicised.

Thoughts are written inside single inverted commas and italicised, sometimes struck through.

Texts and chats have ‘Indented’ font.

Calls have double inverted commas, white and italicised. They are differentiated from other speeches. (Except for main characters like MC and Zayne, they will follow their color code as mentioned earlier and italicised.)

Actions are written inside asterisks, white and bold.

Diary entries have ‘Chat’ font.

If you’re uncomfortable with the following genre or any of the trigger warnings, then please don’t read ahead.

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“She was radiant, held an aura of brilliance…She was a Yellow Rose come to life…”

Memoir: One. Memoir: Three.

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(Credits: The Feels)

Time…07:21 a.m.

Date: 15/XX/2048

Day: Monday

Dear diary,

Hi…last night was well…we didn’t talk after that just went to bed…I fell asleep before him…I hope he’s not mad at me, because we did say our usual good byes this morning as he left for the hospital… but even if he was he’d never speak his mind out…that’s Zayne for you I guess…Anyways I’ll be off to work soon too at around 9:00-9-30, I’ll go make our lunches soon, and yeah…Tomorrow my periods start, I’ll have to keep the tracker ready again, buy some supplies, and medicines, I have a lot of stuff to do…I haven’t checked in on the flower shop either, I guess Raya did text me…I’ll have to update her on everything, besides there’s gonna a lot of shipment coming in throughout the day too, we’ll have to make the places for them, I’ll mention them about the place needing some touch up too and and and…am I forgetting anything? Hope not…Anyways I should get up now, go on with my day, soooo talk to you later.

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As I go about to get done with my shower, then get dressed as I pace around making our lunches, packing them all up in our respective boxes securely. It takes me around an hour and fifteen to do so, as I keep everything ready, opening my phone to text Raya.

RAY

You: Hey girl, sorry I’ve been busy with my doctors and tests these few days hence didn’t get the time to knock…I’ll be coming from today again, just wanted to let you know :D

RAY: oo yay we were missing you, and no worries it’s alright, how are you now?

You: Better. How’s business going? The new shipments are coming in today right?

RAY: Business has been good, although we deal with our daily dose of jerks but yeah you know it. And yes the shipments will be getting in throughout today.

You: K thanks! See you there then we’ll talk more :)

RAY: See ya! <3

Closing my phone, I check the time, it’s still a bit early than I usually leave, but I decide to go forth…

I reach in about twenty minutes by foot, after dropping his lunch off at the hospital, as I open the door and enter hearing the jingling of the bell, the sign still kept on “Closed”. Many greet me as I greet them back then going behind the counter putting on my olive green apron and headband, I access the register through the computer… “Last day’s sales have been good”, “Ikr, we are among one of the popular florist shops in Linkon.”, says Raya. “Ray! Morning!” “To you too! So tell me about the reports.” As we talk, while we arrange up the racks and baskets, the other handling the garden accessories and more…soon we open the shop as the customers start to come in…

We get our first shipment of lavenders and daffodils, completing the necessities before they leave off… “Good?” “Pretty good.” “They’ll make good sales” “Uh-huh”, as we tend to our customers… “Thank you Ma’am please do visit again!”, I send off the last one of them as I heave out a sigh, it was our break now so we’ll have an hour of peace. “You good?”, Raya asks… “Yeah, you know the fatigue is just getting to me…” “You’ve got in spare pads right?” “Mhm, I’ll have to buy more after work tho…” “Cmon let’s have our lunch then you’ll need to take your supplies and meds too.”

While eating, my phones chimes, as I open it.

UNKNOWN

UNKNOWN: Hey! This is (Name) right? I’m MC, we met at the hospital, Zayne’s friend…

You: Oh hey! It’s good to talk to you again, I’m sorry I couldn’t add you in last night.

*UNKNOWN saved to MC ^^*

MC ^^: No no it’s all good. Im actually on standby right now, just having completed a mission, so I thought I’d text you :)

You: Oh it’s my break right now too!

MC ^^: Great then! I was wondering about our coffee plan when will you be free?

You: I’m fine on Thursdays and Sundays, we close early on Thursdays, and on Sundays I take leave…but you tell me, you have it more hectic.

MC ^^: Thursdays are good for me too, I have lesser load well that is unless I get summoned…so Thursday around say…8:30–9:00 p.m.?

You: Sure works for me!

MC ^^: Great then see you soon! ^^

You: See ya :D!

“Zayne?” “Hmm? Oh no no it was his friend MC, she’s just moved into the city, we’re gonna meet up for coffee.” “Ahh…didn’t know Zayne had a friend.” “Pffft neither did I, but oh well.”

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Time…10:37 p.m.

Date: 16/XX/2048

Day: Tuesday

Dear diary,

Ughhhh today was hectic already, this one customer was at our ass, with demanding for a white rose bouquet on the last minute…told him it’s all sold out, but ofc he wouldn’t leave it, good thing Raya, took care of it…And after I reached, I got my periods, fuck it hurts like a bitch…plus the super heavy flow, I just want to lay in bed all day and night…This pain is gonna last till tomorrow, the first two days…I have to go in for work tomorrow, plus we have gotten a pretty huge order for tomorrow so I have to be present, ughhhhh! It hurts…I can’t cook dinner for the night…maybe I should tell Zayne to have dinner from the canteen and I’ll just go to bed…I’m crouched up into a ball, fuuuuuuck….I don’t want to write anymore…I’ll go now.

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As I groan stuffing my face into my pillow and the other pillow, tightly against my abdomen…I need the heat pad, I still have to take my meds and supplies…ugh I don’t at all want to do anything…I wish Zayne was here now…I wanna text him or call him, but I don’t…anyhow Yvonne did mention he had many operations today, so he’s probably busy or at the OT still…This damned pain…sometimes makes me worry, if I have a Cyst or not…prolly will get an USG later…Although my stomach grumbled, my eyes were all droopy…I needed to sleep…but I am hungry…I want my heat pad… “I want Zayne…”

Don’t know what the time was, as I was woken from my uncomfortable slumber, I groan as I felt gently sat up, an aroma of something filling my nostrils… “Hey hey…cmon eat up…”, I slowly open my eyes… “Zayne…? When did you—” “Not now darling…eat up first, then we still have to give you your meds…it’s too late tonight, I’m sorry I couldn’t reach earlier, we’ll have the supplements again from tomorrow…”…he called me ‘darling’, oh how my entire being craved for his pet-names…He fed me, I felt a comforting warmth around my abdomen, as I find my heat pad there, easing the pain a bit…Zayne…he…he sounded so soft…compared to most days…and especially yesterday…I felt my heart ease up…maybe it was just me…

“Where did you eat?” “Canteen.” “When did you reach?” “Around half past one…” “What time is it now?” “Two in the morning…”, I nod as I continue eating the chicken sandwich and at the end some chocolates he got for me…I chuckle “Oh Dr. Zayne is letting me eat sweets this late?” “It’s your periods, you deserve some slack”, I see a hint of smile on his face, as I smile too…everything is fine…

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Time…10:23 p.m.

Date: 17/XX/2048

Day: Wednesday

Dear diary,

Today went well, business was good as usual, blooming hehe. It was a shitty day though, had been raining since morning, thankfully it stopped a couple hours ago…Anyways well it did pain like a bitch but I took some painkillers while working, so ya I could ease through the day, also carried some extra toffees and chocolates plus some sour patch candies, to keep my mind off of it. I’m really tired right now, and the effects of the painkiller have worn out, so it’s gonna start stabbing again, although I feel a bit better, think I can make dinner tonight…Zayne said he’d be early tonight so yeah… I’ll take another painkiller and get to it.

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As I do, walking over to the kitchen, prepping for dinner.

LOML

You: Hey when will you be coming back?

As I go back to making dinner after the text…After an hour or so I was done, as I place them on the table, washing my hands clean, wiping them before I check my messages again…

LOML

You: Hey when will you be coming back? (Delivered at: 10:40 p.m.)

“Hmm he didn’t reply yet…must be busy or finishing up.”, I wait up for him, while scrolling through my phone, checking the posts of my friends and family, reels to keep myself engaged…

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It was almost around quarter to twelve, as I check his chat again…

LOML

You: Hey when will you be coming back? (Delivered at: 10:40 p.m.)

“Still he hasn’t seen…should I call him up…or better let me call up Yvonne and check…”

As I dial her contact—

Ring…ring…ring…

*click*

“Hey (Name)! How are you?”

“I’ve been doing well thanks! You?”

“Good!”

“Hey sorry for calling you up so late, but I just wanted to know, is your shift over?”

“No worries! And yeah, why?”

“Is Zayne working overtime again? I mean I texted him two hours ago, got no reply so I got worried, he did say he’d return early tonight…so I was wondering if he got caught up in an emergency or something. I thought of calling him, but then thought it’d be better to ring you up.”

“Dr. Zayne clocked out an hour ago with MC…they had dinner plans, Greyson told me… He didn’t tell you?”

“Oh…um no no oh now that I recall he did say he had dinner plans with her…thanks Yvonne, and again I’m so sorry for bothering you this late.”

“It’s no issue! But are you sure? I can tell Greyson to tell him to ring you up or give you a text.”

“Its alright I’ll call him up…bye have a good night!”

“Okay bye goodnight take care!”

*beep* As I cut the call…

…I sit in silence for sometime, but my mind is loud…too loud… ‘Again? Why didn’t he tell me he was gonna have dinner with her or that he had dinner plans…He could’ve told me, it’s not like I’m gonna restrict him or anything…It could be because he forgot…or maybe it was impromptu…but still he could’ve texted me, atleast let me be aware…It’s the second time this is happening…first he doesn’t ever tell me about her, and now dinner plans…What’s going on with you Zayne…?’

I sigh as I pour my portion of the soup in my bowl and keep away rest in a container in the fridge, to reheat and have tomorrow for breakfast…I eat in silence staring at my phone, while my mind blares with noises of, ‘why didn’t he tell me why didn’t he tell me why didn’t he tell me why didn’t he tell me why didn’t he tell me why didn’t he tell me—’

After I finish I wash the bowl and spoon and keep it in place…For some reason I suddenly felt like wanting to hit the sack asap…I didn’t want to ask him at all…not tonight…

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Time…07:30 a.m.

Date: 18/XX/2048

Day: Thursday

Dear diary,

Third day of my periods…the flow reduces today so does the pain, then again increases on day 4, finally coming to halt on day 5 or 6…I’ll still be taking a painkiller at work, plus I also have the meet up with MC…Speaking of which…I really don’t want to go…besides I didn’t wake up with Zayne today…I knew he left, I was awake…but I didn’t want to talk to him…besides I was too tired, and I palms and feet were sweating…I kinda don’t even want to go to work today…I feel too iffy for some reason…Am I jealous? But for what…MC? But…I chat make sense of it, and I feel too tired again…I don’t know if I wanna talk with him even tonight, let alone ask him anything…ughhh…Anyways I should get up now, get our lunches ready…should I give him a note? Act like everything’s normal?

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I sigh as I get off of bed, stepping inside the bathroom…Showering while my thought run haywire… ‘He could’ve told me…could he be hiding something? No no…he’s not like that…at least tonight we close early yay…’, as I went on to perform my usual tasks of the day.

Heading out, I was sure to carry my umbrella along with me like always in my bag. As I drop off his lunch and head back out…

…“You good?” “Hmm? Oh yeah Ray, just calculating some totals…” “You sure? You look down…” “Am good hon, thanks…”, as I brace myself and go back to focusing on work. During break time I get a text from MC, sort of disappointed hoping it’d have been Zayne given that my text was still on delivered from last night…

MC ^^

MC: Hey! We on for tonight right?

You: Mhm sure. Where are we meeting by the way?

MC: I have a great place in mind! You know Destiny Cafe? It’s really famous in Linkon, besides it was the first outdoor place I visited when I arrived here, well except for the HA.

You: Oh yeah I know it! Cool then see you there! ^^

MC: See ya!

“Hello excuse me?”, I look up at the counter, seeing an old lady. “Oh yes Ma’am how can I help you?” “I would like to have a bouquet of your fresh red roses and lavender dearie”, “Sure! My coworker will show you to them—” “Hey (Name) sorry can’t, family emergency call, I have to go.”, as Raya walks out the store… “I am sorry for the inconvenience but here I’ll take you to them. Please.”, as I gesture her to move ahead. I take her to both sections, as she picks out the bunch she likes, while I prepare the bouquets for her. After I was done, I take out the card she chose, “May I know who this is for?” “Tabitha…she used to be my best friend…once she died she left a void in my chest…she used to love flowers especially roses and lavender, it reminded her of her childhood…of what that could have been…” “I’m so sorry to hear that, may she rest in peace…” “Thank you dearie”, as she left after paying…Her words left me at an edge, I couldn’t stop thinking about it for some reason and her flower choices…Bright red roses and lavender, they contrasted each other beautifully and elegantly…

Soon it was time to leave, as I say my goodbyes, off to heading to Destiny Cafe…I am carrying a small bouquet of yellow roses with me, I didn’t even know I wanted to but I am…maybe the lady stirred something inside of me…

Reaching the cafe, I stand by the front waiting, as I open my phone to see new messages.

MC ^^

MC ^^: Reaching shortly.

You: Ok no rush!

… “Hey!”, as she waves and smiles brightly, as I return the gesture… “I am so so sorry, got held up by some Flux Anomaly reports, had to review them…” “It’s no problem…here.” “Oh my you got me something? Now I feel bad for not getting you anything—”, I brush it off by waving my hand, “Don’t worry it was impromptu, but I guess this is for the beginning of ur friendship? Since yellow roses symbolise friendship.” “Oh I’ve heard! Let’s go.”

As we sit at a table, order our drinks, she got a coffee black, whole I got a boba tea. “These are so beautiful, thank you so much for them! Let me at least pay for tonight to return the gesture!” “No no no it’s alright! Please your liking them is enough payment.”, I smile… “You’re really sweet, Zayne is really lucky.”, Zayne’s name icked me off, since he still hasn’t messaged me from morning or anything…and neither have I… “So what do you do?” “I’m a florist, I work at this flower shop down Hashcrew Lane.” “Wait you work at -insert shop name-? That’s like one of the best ones in Linkon! How is it like?” “It’s really fun, plus working among flowers is rejuvenating.” “Do tell me more symbolisms of more flowers please!”, I chuckle as I do, she chimes in too at times…

We talk and gossip, I noticed that she too keeps facts from her childhood herself, mostly mentioning some about Zayne and then her Hunters’ Exams and life in Linkon…

Time flies by as always, and we say our good nights. “I had a blast tonight thank you so much! We should do it again sometime?” “Sure! And me too thanks for such a lovely night.”

We part ways as I check the time…oh well not too late it’s like when a little late than I usually get off of work, it’s around five minutes to eleven. I walk the streets when I get a call from Raya..

*click*

“Hey (Name) could you please manage for the remaining days? I can’t come anymore this week.”

“Yes sure *I stop on my tracks, sitting upon a nearby bench* no worries, but what’s wrong?”

“Remember my mother had an Endometriotic Cyst…yeah it had increased in size, 7.3 cm…needs to be surgically removed…I’m not worried, cysts are really common…but it’s just…oh god…”

“I understand…don’t worry she’ll be all fine again…I pray that the operation goes all well…”

“Thanks a lot N/N, puts me at ease, but I have to go now, bye.”

*beep*, she cuts the call…

…As I open the door walking inside, taking off my shoes, only to see Zayne preparing dinner. He’s home early tonight. “You’re back.”, he says as I hum…I still didn’t want to talk to him, and neither did I want to cause another awkward situation while dinner, so I kept shut. Dinner goes by, as I take my medicines and supplements. ‘He’s not even himself gonna say anything about last night? Do I not deserve to know?’…

“I texted you last night…”, I start as I see his body language stiffen slightly, yet he continued to wash the dishes. “Are you…upset with me?” “Why would you think that?” “I don’t know ig maybe because I am feeling like you’re avoiding me. And what’s up with me getting to know from other people that you had dinner with MC?” “You had coffee with her too tonight.” “Yes I did but that’s not the point Zayne. The point is that I didn’t hide it Zayne, I’d informed you…I just…I just didn’t understand yesterday, first you text you’ll be home early, then you don’t reply at all making me worry that I had to call up and ask Yvonne. It was almost around twelve you had me worried sick! It’s different if it was your usual days, but not when you tell me you’d be early!”, my voice strains, gaining a sharp edge, laced with worry and desperation. “…It was unplanned for…she came over to visit as I was done for the day, told me since I don’t take care of myself at all during working hours and barely eat, we should have dinner together…”, hearing that ticked me off more, “That’s fine! But you could’ve atleast dropped a text or a call telling me! How long does it take???”, I raise my voice, my breath quickening, as I feel myself shake, so I sit back down on the chair and breathe in and out… Maybe he had something more to say but I don’t listen as I walk into the bedroom, putting myself straight to sleep…

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Time…07:57 a.m.

Date: 19/XX/2048

Day: Friday

Dear diary,

Fourth day…the pain has started again…my head hurts like shit, I feel really dizzy and nauseous…don’t wanna get up, especially after last night…Lord I hate arguments…especially with dear ones, I can’t handle them, they drive me to the edge…I hope he’s already left for the hospital, I don’t want to see him at all right now…Should I call in sick? I mean I did take a leave recently last week…on top of that another…plus Raya is not gonna be there her mother is in the hospital…Cyst operation… *sigh*

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As I slowly and steadily get up, dragging myself to the bathroom, continuing with my daily routine…I really don’t want to make either of us lunches today—

—LOML

LOML: You don’t have to prepare lunch for me today…I’ll have it with MC.

I scoff to myself, ‘of course.’

LOML

LOML: Have some rest…

Im not supposed to feel like this over MC, when she’s just the sweetest, but can I blame myself? I really don’t wanna go today…

My mind wanders back to the anniversary plans I’d made and pictured in my mind for us…the surprise…I felt sure back then…but now…I can’t help but feel like maybe just maybe he’ll forget…The familiar unsettling feeling creeps inside of my heart again, I know the name of it, but I dare not utter out even in my thoughts…

As I bury it deep down once again…I take a pain killer, and go on with my dailies.

Business felt really slow today…or maybe it’s just me? I feel incredibly exhausted and fatigued, I just want to go back and rest my eyes…Feels like I’ll be better once I return back to my apartment after my periods end for the month…

…Zayne and I barely utter a word to each other tonight, just silently minding to our chores and activities…I have this urge for the need of at least a small apology from him…

(Credits: The Feels)

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(Credits: Pinterest)

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[rosietrace]

The way I avoid angsty non-mc-reader fics like the PLAGUE bc I know damn well I'm gonna cry my eyes out

.... And I STILL end up reading them

[sodapopkiss-6]

Eternally yours

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64635205/chapters/166028953

Pairing: (one-sided) Sylus/mc

Content: Hanahaki disease, major character death, angst, hurt no comfort, unrequited love, blood.

Summary: Sylus gets the Hanahaki disease after meeting MC in the current timeline. MC loves another LI, Sylus respects that and stays quiet. Eventually, the flowers consume him, leading to his death.

“She's either rejecting you, scared of you or….disgusted by you.”

That was the first time he felt them.

Those blooming flowers that were fed by his love for you.

Desperation overtook him, he couldn't understand what was wrong. He had come back to you, your loyal dragon. But you looked at him as if he was a stranger, as if he wasn't ready to sacrifice everything including himself for you.

How could he make you see how much he loved you? How could he prove himself?

Pink and red petals slipped from his lips, adorning his palm with his desire.

Time passed, you were much more at ease with him.

However it still wasn't enough.

Every time you gave him those precious smiles that made him melt, your determined eyes and courageous nature.

It was the same as when he had left you.

Yes, he had left you. Making the selfish decision, leaving you alone to bear with his absence.

Perhaps the gods were punishing him for hurting one of their own.

It was a fitting punishment for a fiend like him. The pink petals that poured out of him hurt more than the claymore that had pierced his heart.

A punishment for harming his beloved, that is what he told himself when he decided to hide the flowers from everyone.

Weeks passed, having you back in his life ignited his adoration further. Inside of him he felt the flowers grow stronger, more prominent.

You were so close his heart ached. He was yours but you weren't his.

It was easy to see that you harbored affections for another.

However, that didn't stop him from being near, even if he had to hide in the shadows, he would always be there for you.

If you decided you didn't want him in your life he would oblige, but not without looking back to make sure you were safe and well.

He's glad you don't look back. He wouldn't want you to see the flowers sprouting, decorating his feet.

He'd rather your memories of him be pure, comforting. You didn't need to see this monstrous side of him again, this all consuming passion, his greed.

He wanted you. If the blood stained flowers weren't enough, tears that he rarely shed now uncharacteristically common, made clear reminders of his sin.

It was foolish of him to think the two of you could ever co-exist, to express your fondness for one another with no retribution.

He was meant to be yours, and you his. But you were taken to a place he couldn't reach.

You left him just how he left you, guilt seeped into his heart.

Yes, this is what I deserve.

He accepted his fate, he would always die by your hands. The prophecy fulfilled once more.

He was glad he planned everything in advance, his foresight once again coming to his aide.

He would have to temporarily leave you again much to his dismay. But at least he could leave you in a better state than last time.

A parting gift and an apology, he hoped that the N109 Zone, his possessions, and connections would be enough until he came back to you.

You would be none the wiser of his cause of disappearance. He'd rather you be mad at him for moving away than for you to mourn him.

You were kind, he knew you would feel sad over a fiend like him, that you would realize the cause of his end and feel guilt.

This secret dies with me.

He could feel his condition worsen, most days he spent them alone in his room, locked away as a monster like him was meant to be.

Away from the forbidden flower above, the flower that danced graciously under the sun.

He could only look up from the cold and lonely hell he was born in. Yearning for your warm embrace once again.

This time he wouldn't steal you away, this time he would wither like the petals that surround him.

Some part of him, some sick and greedy part of him wanted you to see him like this.

Some nights– days? He had lost the concept of time. Surrounded by the darkness in his room.

–He would see you walk in, wasn't the door locked? You would look at him worried and rush to his side, cradling his face gently like you once did.

And again that selfish part of him, it would relish over your concern. Any attention from you was like water in a desert.

Sometimes he would wake up to you caressing his face and head.

The two of you would admire the flowers.

He had created enough petals to make it seem it was a flower field, anything to make you happy.

He could feel your soft fingers against his skin, teasing until you suddenly decorate his head with the red flowers.

You look beautiful Sy.

No one has ever called me that before.

Then I'll say it again and again until you grow tired of it…

It will take you thousands of years.

That means you're stuck with me until then.

I'd like that very much.

It was so vivid he couldn't tell if it was real or if he was hallucinating.

He liked to think it was real, that you still loved him and that you chose him over the other's.

That the warmth on his lips wasn't his blood but your sweet kisses.

He could turn the room into a paradise for you and spend the rest of his days with you.

Some other times though, you were mad at him.

You're a monster.

I hate you.

All you do is hurt me.

I don't know how I ever loved you.

Those cruel words made him wheeze and cough violently.

I'm sorry…

The anger and disgust in your eyes as you took in his pitiful form that lay gasping hurt more than words could express.

Yet his eyes never left yours.

He never resented you, your heart was yours to give.

He knew with certainty that this current life would soon stop.

Some part of him was saddened by this, he had wished to be with you more, he had just got you back.

But he would gladly die by your hands if it meant your happiness would be ensured. You shouldn't feel forced to reciprocate his feelings.

Eyes half lidded, he traced a cat with his blood. He drew on the petals until his muscles grew weak, he felt heavy.

His lungs burned as he coughed more, his insides raw from the violent flowers that fed from his heart.

It was both sweet yet painful, love. Powerful enough to give him life and also take it.

His eyes burned with tears that he had no strength to hold back. His sobs were choked and he gasped. Desperately clutching to you.

You were there by his side, looking down at him.

He crawled to your feet, he wanted you, cursed to be eternally devoted to you.

Brokenly, he murmured your name like a prayer. Looking up to your loving eyes.

You crouched down, laying him comfortably on the floor.

Relax Sy, you know I will be right next to you.

Sweetie I have to-

I know…

You smiled at him kindly, like you always did.

Mustering his last bit of strength, his hand attempted to reach your face

You should know very well that I adore you. There is no love purer than mine.

You didn't respond, instead you leaned down to press your lips against his.

His hand fell to the side and he drew his last breath as he saw you disappear.

It was agonizing at first, his body shaking, seeking air. But he didn't wish to part from you.

His eyes searched for yours, immersed in thoughts and the memory of your touch until his mind went blank and his body stilled.

From his chest, pink and red flowers bloomed as if he were a valley. They covered every inch of him, red liquid streaming down like a river.

You were an artist and he was your greatest work, your magnum opus.

BONUS

You wake up in the middle of the night. You're crying and your heart feels like it has been torn in half.

My dragon is gone.

You wipe the tears away confused.

A hand rubs your arm comfortingly. “Is everything alright?”

You look at your boyfriend apologetically, you didn't mean to wake him up.

“Yeah, sorry, I guess I had a nightmare…”

He smiles tiredly, yet understanding and patient.

“It's okay, it was just a bad dream,” he says as he pulls you into a hug. “I'm here for you if you want to talk.”

You shake your head and snuggle into him. “No I don't remember it much anyways, let's go back to sleep...”

You press a kiss on his forehead, making him chuckle.

“You missed.”

You blink and laugh. “Sorry, I don't know why I did that, it kind of just… felt right?”

“It's okay you don't have to apologize.” He leans in and kisses you softly. “I love you.”

For some reason, you hesitate. “I love you too.” Your heart aches and you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

When you close your eyes, you see a tiny mountain, it looks like it has been recently formed. You feel a sense of familiarity and lay on the mountain. Beautiful flowers draped over the mountain like a warm blanket.

Red.

You instantly thought of Sylus and smiled, you hadn't seen him in a while.

I should visit him tomorrow.

[ryusjwks]

Me when I’m reading tumblr writers’ angsty lads-guys x non-mc reader fics filled with unrequited love. (I need therapy.)

[levisolace]

am i making you feel sick? (zayne x f!reader)

WC: 15,691 Pairing: zayne x reader, subtle sylus x reader Warnings: graphic depictions of illness Genre: Angst, (Possibly) Unrequited Love, Hanahaki Disease AU Summary: You escape Linkon to heal from the deadly Hanahaki Disease, your unspoken love for Dr. Zayne threatening to consume you from within. Note: Hi! I had this in my drafts for a while since Sylus came out. Figured to finally post it. Here's my first LaDs fic. Hope you all like it. This is only a one-shot btw.

ao3 link

You don’t know when it started. Maybe it was over the meals you’ve shared, or when you began to know much more about him, how he loved sweets, how he graduated half the time it should’ve, or maybe it’s just how truly and deeply kind and caring he is. In the stolen glances you gave him whenever he was in your presence, you admired how beautiful he was. His raven black hair, hazel green eyes, and broad shoulders. Oh, his beautiful shoulders. It was your dream to have your hands running through them. 

It was perfect. You two shared a history from your childhood and more than a decade later, you were brought back once again in your adult years. Like it was fated. Like stars have aligned for the two of you. Maybe it was the knowledge of the “you meet people twice theory” that made your delusion worse. Maybe it was when you began to think of scenarios of you and him before you went to sleep at night. 

To make it short, you don’t know when you started falling in love with your primary care physician, Dr. Zayne. 

It was fun at first, the idea of falling in love. He is your friend, no matter how busy he is, if he can, he gives his free time to you. In the midst of all of that, you began to question yourself if the way you see him was more than a friend. 

Before you knew it, you found yourself blushing at every interaction, every text, every post and comment he made, and every doctor appointment whenever he would even slightly touch you. Your heart rate sped up and he probably noticed that too. You were practically transparent with how easy you are to read.

He was the total opposite.

He’s stoic and unreadable. Half of the time, you don’t know if he’s serious or joking. Most of the time, it’s the former. He would always find ways to scold you on how you take care of yourself. 

Still, you hoped. You made yourself believe that underneath all that caring was an underlying emotion that comes as more than a physician and a friend. And so you let yourself fall into that deep abyss of longing. Love. It’s such a common word, one that is used lightly but holds the weight of the world and humanity. 

But you couldn’t be more wrong.

You stepped out of the cab and onto the rain-slicked pavement of Linkon, the familiar hum of the city wrapping around you like an old friend. The night was young, but the streets were already alive with their own rhythm—flashes of neon lights, distant sirens, and the ever-present murmur of conversations blending into a cacophony that was both chaotic and comforting.

You tugged your leather jacket tighter against the cool evening breeze, your thoughts racing faster than your heartbeat. After weeks in the field—tracking elusive prey through shadowed forests and braving the bite of unforgiving weather—returning to the city was like slipping into a well-worn pair of boots. But tonight, the excitement in your step had nothing to do with the urban landscape you missed. It was all about the man waiting for you at the clinic.

Dr. Zayne had been a constant in your thoughts even while you were miles away, slinking through the underbrush and facing dangers of wanderers. Your encounters were always memorable, punctuated by shared glances and conversations that left you with a giddy sense of longing.

Your boots clacked against the pavement as you hurried down the street, the soft patter of rain masking her footsteps. You reached the glass door of the clinic, pausing for a moment to smooth your hair and then pushed inside. 

The lobby was quiet, illuminated by the soft glow of overhead lights and the soft hum of a vending machine in the corner. You approached the reception desk, where a young woman was looking up with a smile. 

“Hi, I’m here to see Dr. Zayne,” you tell her. 

“Ah, Miss (L/N), right?” the receptionist asked. You’ve probably been here too many times to not be known. Is that a bad thing? Probably. But you don’t mind.

You nod. “Ah, I think Dr. Zayne stepped out for   dinner,” she informs you. “You can wait here. He should be coming back soon.” 

“Oh, okay. Thank you,” you replied, giving her a smile. 

You cursed to yourself. You probably shouldn’t have tried to surprise him with your unprecedented visit and just texted him beforehand. It’s still pretty early for his usual dinner time despite it being dark already. With how busy and needed he is in the hospital, it resulted in him having inconsistent meal times, very much similar to your line of work. You hoped to catch him before he ate and ask him out for a meal like you always do. But that’s not happening tonight. 

As you wait patiently in the lobby while looking through social media posts on your phone, a nurse you know well approached you and called you by your name. You look up to see Yvonne smiling at you. You gave her a genuine smile back, happy to see an acquaintance. 

“Hey Ms. Hunter, you here for Dr. Zayne?” she asked. 

“Yeah, I heard he’s out for dinner. I just got back from a mission and wanted to see him because I had to skip an appointment during the week,” you inform her.

She places her hand in the pockets of her scrub as she thinks, her eyes widening for a moment when she remembers. “Yeah, I think he ate dinner with Dr. Emma.” 

“Dr. Emma?” The unfamiliar name rolls off your tongue in a bad way. This is the first time you’ve heard of her. 

“Yeah, she’s a new doctor who transferred here a while ago. A genius doctor too, maybe that’s why she quickly hit it off with Dr. Zayne,” she pouts. 

That’s when your heart sank. A dinner date. The words echoed in your mind, crushing the small spark of hope you had been nurturing. You forced a smile as Yvonne excused herself out of the quick conversation, dropping it as quickly as she fades from your view. 

Just like that, your excitement bubbled down into an unknown pain. It was like humiliation but something else completely. You felt like everyone’s eyes were on you even if no one was watching you—like they knew you were here for Zayne but he was already with another woman. But they don’t know that. You’re just another patient here. Thinking of that truth should’ve comforted you. But somehow, it felt worse. 

With a heavy heart, you went back to your apartment without seeing the doctor you were waiting for.

One sad dinner by yourself later, you found yourself lying on your bed, the exhaustion of the preceding mission finally dawned on you. The adrenaline of excitement has worn out, leaving you with a heavy feeling of disappointment and body ache. 

Your phone dinged with a notification and yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to move a limb. It’s a wonder how you never felt this way after a mission before even if you were injured. It’s like something was weighing you down but you couldn’t pinpoint where. 

The phone dinged a few times more and you ignored it, not wanting to talk to anyone at the moment. You guess it was just the group chat from work. Tomorrow and the weekend are your days off anyway. They can forgive you for not responding for a few hours. 

It was then that your phone started to ring, indicating a phone call. Groaning in annoyance, you will yourself to reach for your phone by the bedside table, picking it up hastily while your eyes are closed.

“Hello?” you answer groggily. 

“Are you alright?” The familiar deep voice asked without missing a beat, tone laced with concern. Your eyes widen, looking at the caller ID. It was Zayne. The messages were also from him.

“Oh, it’s you.” Everything felt lighter than it was, your tone involuntarily chipper than it was a second ago. It was like your body is uncontrollable when it comes to him. You sit up on your bed to speak to him more clearly. 

“What happened?” He asked again, eager to get the point.

“What do you mean?” 

“Why did you leave the hospital? The nurse told me you were here to see me and then left,” he asked further. You don’t answer for a moment, unsure on what to lie about. You can’t exactly tell him the truth. 

“Oh… yeah. I just got back from a mission but you weren’t there so I left,” you explained. 

There was silence from a moment like he was thinking and you wish that you knew what it was about. Like most of the time, you wished to enter his mind and see him wholly. 

“...Are you hurt?” The eagerness dropped from his tone, replaced by the softness that you adored partnered with the deep concern that he showed you multiple times. It’s a softness that you found yourself used to, something that pertains to a relationship more than a doctor and his patient. 

“I’m alright, Dr. Zayne,” you answer truthfully but your voice betrays you and you curse yourself in your mind, knowing that the attentive doctor would notice. 

“You don’t sound alright,” he states the obvious, the subtle sarcasm noted in his answer. 

“I really am, Zayne. I just felt bad about missing the appointment because of the mission,” you say as you pull and fold your legs closer to yourself, hugging them to your chest. You hear his soft sigh on the other line and you let out an involuntary chuckle, picturing his disappointed and crunched forehead while he sat on his office desk. 

“Do you want to come in tomorrow?” He asked and your heart jumped at the question. The thought of seeing him tomorrow giving you a boost of serotonin. 

“Do I need to? I really am fine,” you answer truthfully, pertaining to your physical health.

“Nevermind. You’re coming in tomorrow. That’s an order from your doctor,” he commands and you chuckle again and roll your eyes but enjoy his nagging nonetheless. 

“Fine, Dr. Zayne. I’ll come in tomorrow.”

“Great, I’ll see you then,” and he hangs up.

That night, you sleep with a heavy heart no longer but the thought of another woman still lingers at the back of your mind. You push the thoughts away, focusing on the thought that you will see him tomorrow. 

Just for tonight, you’ll dream of those green eyes. It wouldn’t hurt, would it?

You sit in front of him, legs crossed, your frilly skirt brushing against your knees as you try to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Zayne flips through your chart, his brow furrowed in concentration, like every detail of your health is a puzzle he’s determined to solve.

“Everything looks fine,” he says at last, his voice calm and steady.

You smile, forcing a lightness to your tone that doesn’t quite match how you feel inside. “Told you. I’m a good Hunter.”

His lips twitch into a half-smile. “You are. But that doesn’t mean you should throw yourself at any wanderer that crosses your path.”

You pout, sticking out your bottom lip in mock protest. “I wasn’t throwing myself at anyone. You make it sound like I’m reckless.”

Zayne chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “You’re not reckless—just a bit too fearless sometimes.”

The playful back-and-forth between you has become so natural, but today it feels different. You’d dressed up a little for this checkup, abandoning your usual jeans for something more delicate, more thoughtful, hoping he might notice. Maybe today would be the day you’d muster up the courage to say something—anything—to let him know how you feel. But before you can respond, a soft knock on the door interrupts your thoughts.

Zayne glances up, his face softening instantly. “Come in.”

The door opens, and a woman steps inside, holding a small container in her hands. She’s striking, with short auburn hair that falls just past her ears and eyes that shine with quiet warmth. She’s dressed in a simple but elegant medical uniform, her steps confident and unhurried as she approaches the desk.

“Hey,” she says, smiling at Zayne. “I brought you something.” She sets the candy container down in front of him, a fond look passing between them.

Zayne’s face lights up—genuinely lights up—in a way you’ve rarely seen. He glances over at you, as if only just realizing you’re still in the room. “Y/N, this is Dr. Emma Lin. She’s—uh—one of the new doctors here at Akso Hospital.”

Emma gives you a polite nod, her smile warm but distant, like she’s already figured out who you are and where you stand. You manage to smile back, but your throat tightens painfully. You can feel the familiar weight of something blooming deep inside, a pressure building that you’ve worked so hard to suppress.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Emma says lightly, looking back at Zayne. “I just thought you could use a snack.”

“No, it’s fine,” Zayne replies, his tone softening even more. “Thanks for this.”

Emma lingers for a moment, her hand lightly brushing Zayne’s shoulder before she finally turns and heads out, leaving the room in an awkward, heavy silence.

You stare at the closed door, a pit forming in your stomach. So this is her.

“She’s nice,” you say, forcing the words out even though they taste bitter on your tongue. “Seems like she cares a lot.”

Zayne clears his throat, his gaze dropping back to the chart, though he’s clearly not reading it anymore. “Yeah. She’s great. We’ve been, uh… seeing each other.”

There it is. The confirmation you didn’t want but were already expecting.

“Oh,” you say softly, keeping your tone as casual as you can manage. “That’s… that’s nice, Zayne.”

He glances up at you, his brows knitting together as if he can sense the sudden shift in your mood, the hurt you’re trying so hard to hide. “It’s still pretty new,” he adds, almost as if he’s apologizing. “We’re just trying it out.” 

You swallow, the familiar burn in your throat intensifying. You can feel the petals—sharp and brittle—pressing against your chest, but you can’t let him see. Not now. Not ever.

“I’m happy for you,” you lie, forcing a smile that feels like it’s cracking at the edges. “You deserve someone great.”

Zayne watches you closely, his gaze searching, but you don’t let anything slip. Not a single hint of the pain coursing through you.

“I should probably go,” you say abruptly, standing up a little too quickly. “Thanks for the checkup, Zayne.”

He stands as well, concern flickering in his eyes, but you’re already heading for the door before he can ask any more questions.

“Y/N,” he calls after you, his voice hesitant, but you wave it off, turning with a bright, practiced smile.

“I’m fine, really. Just… have a lot on my mind. See you next time.”

And with that, you’re out the door, your chest tightening with every step as you leave the clinic. The air outside feels cold against your skin, the pressure building inside you unbearable. You let out a shaky breath, but little did you know, it’s too late to stop it.

The days dragged on like you were on autopilot. Your feelings weren’t new. They’ve always been there. Since you had a tiny crush on him in your childhood, you actually believed that you had a chance. 

The memory of Zayne's words, spoken only a few weeks ago, echoed in your mind. His voice, usually so warm and reassuring, had been hesitant, almost apologetic, as he shared the news. He'd told you about the new doctor he was seeing, her name a blur in your memory, her face a hazy silhouette in your imagination.

You hadn't meant to linger, to let the silence stretch into an uncomfortable void. You'd forced a smile, a laugh, even though your heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. You’d congratulated him, your voice a shaky whisper, but inside, you felt as though the world had been flipped on its side.

The world you’d been building in your head, a world where perhaps, just maybe, your unspoken feelings for Zayne could blossom into something more, had crumbled in an instant. You had been so careful, so cautious, not wanting to jeopardize the easy familiarity that had always existed between you. But now, the fragile hope you had clung to was gone, shattered into a million pieces.

The image of Zayne’s smile, reserved only for you, the way he’d always look at you with a warmth that seemed to encompass you entirely, now felt like a cruel mirage. The way his hand had lingered on yours, just a moment longer than necessary, had felt like a shared secret, a silent promise. Now, the memory of that touch sent a pang of longing through you, a sharp, unfamiliar ache.

You couldn't explain the sudden urge to avoid the clinic, the way even the faintest scent of disinfectant made you feel dizzy. You’d found yourself choosing the more dangerous missions, seeking solace in the adrenaline rush of battle, a temporary distraction from the growing unease in your heart.

You tried to push the thoughts away, to bury the hurt beneath layers of duty and responsibility. But it was a losing battle. The emptiness you felt, the ache in your chest, it was a constant companion now, a gnawing emptiness that refused to be ignored.

You couldn't ignore the growing fatigue, the way you seemed to be catching every bug that went around, the way your lungs felt tight, as though they were constantly filled with a suffocating weight. But you pushed it all aside, attributing it to the stress of your job, the relentless pressure of protecting the city. You were a Hunter, one with duties to protect the people from Wanderers. You couldn’t afford to be sick. Not when their threats are more rampant than before.

You need more distraction. You need to forget about Zayne. 

The world felt muted, the colors drained. 

The harsh fluorescent lights of the Hunter HQ buzzed overhead, casting a sickly glow on the cluttered desk where you sat, sifting through reports. A wave of nausea, unexpected and sharp, rolled over you. You clutched your stomach, a bead of sweat forming on your brow. This wasn't the usual post-mission exhaustion. This felt… different.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Tara asks in concern as she sees you practically about to hurl. 

You excused yourself, hurrying to the nearest restroom. The familiar scent of disinfectant did little to ease the churning in your gut. As you leaned over the sink, a wave of violent coughing seized you, racking your body. Something lodged in your throat, a burning sensation rising with each heave.

At first, it just worried you. Your protocore syndrome must’ve worsened. But that can’t be. You’ve gotten stronger since you’ve been in the N109 zone and you’ve been fine even before that.

Finally, you coughed up a small, crimson-tinged object – a delicate, blood-red rose petal.

Panic tightened your chest. Hanahaki. The whispered fear that had always lurked at the edges of your mind, now a stark reality. The illness that bloomed in your lungs, a physical manifestation of unrequited love, a slow, agonizing death. It was a rare disease, so rare that people even begin to question if they still exist. But they do. And now, you are an example.

Your world seemed to tilt on its axis. Zayne. His warm smile, his kind eyes, the way he always seemed to know just what to say, the way he’d gently patch you up after each mission, his hands tracing the scars on your arms with an unspoken tenderness that had always made your heart skip a beat.

You remembered the day he'd told you, his voice softer than usual, about the new doctor he was dating. The way his hand had lingered on the door handle, a touch of hesitancy in his eyes. The way he’d looked away as he mentioned the woman’s name. The woman he’d spent months, maybe even years, telling you stories about.

But this couldn’t be. You weren’t supposed to be sick. You were a Hunter, a soldier, a protector. You weren’t supposed to be felled by something as fragile and fleeting as love. You weren’t supposed to be… heartbroken.

The fear gnawed at you, a cold, sharp blade against your insides. Your vision blurred, the bright lights of the HQ fading to an almost unbearable white. You clung to the sink, your mind reeling, knowing that with each cough, each petal you coughed up, your life was slowly fading away.

The days dragged on, each one blending into the next, a constant reminder of your hidden struggle. Tara’s worried glances were becoming harder to ignore. She’d been your best friend since you started hunting together, and her concern was palpable, hovering like a cloud over your head.

“You need to take a break,” she pressed one evening after a long mission, her voice low as you both cleaned your gear in the dim light of the supply room. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. You’re not invincible, Y/N.”

You waved her off, forcing a laugh that sounded hollow even to your own ears. “I’m fine, really. Just a little tired. The last mission was tough, that’s all.” But deep down, you knew you were lying, and Tara could see right through it.

Your nights were plagued with coughing fits, sharp and painful, like a bitter reminder of the flowers blooming within you. Each cough felt like a warning, a desperate call for attention, yet you buried it beneath a layer of denial. You pushed through the pain, stubbornly refusing to let it slow you down.

But then Captain Jenna called you into her office, and you felt the weight of her piercing gaze as soon as you stepped inside. She was a force of nature—stern but compassionate, always demanding the best from her team. The moment she closed the door, you could sense the shift in atmosphere.

“Y/N,” she began, her voice steady but filled with concern. “You’re not yourself. I’ve noticed the way you falter during missions, how pale you’ve become. It’s like you’re a shadow of who you used to be. What’s going on?”

You met her gaze, your heart racing as you weighed your options. You could tell her the truth about your condition, about the Hanahaki disease that was slowly consuming you. But could you bear to reveal your secret? The love you held for Zayne, the pain of watching him with another woman—it felt too heavy, too raw to lay bare.

“It’s nothing, Captain. Just a bit worn out,” you said, your voice stronger than you felt.

“Worn out?” she repeated, her brow furrowing in disbelief. “This isn’t just exhaustion, Y/N. You’re struggling. I need you at your best. The team needs you at your best. If you can’t do this, I need to know.”

The pressure built inside you, and you fought the urge to scream, to let it all out. “I can handle it. I promise. Just give me a bit more time.”

Jenna studied you for a moment, her eyes narrowing. “You know where to find me if you need to talk.”

You nodded, though her words felt like a lifeline you were too proud to grasp. As you left her office, the walls felt like they were closing in. The facade you’d built was crumbling, and you were running out of places to hide.

The next few days were a blur of missions, each one feeling heavier than the last. Tara’s worried looks became more frequent, and you could see the doubt creeping into her expression. You tried to put on a brave face, but the more you pushed yourself, the worse you felt. Your coughs grew worse, punctuated by a metallic taste that clung to your throat.

One evening, you finally reached your breaking point. You collapsed onto your bed after another grueling mission, your body trembling with exhaustion. Your hands trembled as you brushed your fingers across the petals that had begun to manifest along your throat. Each one was a reminder of your unspoken feelings, a testament to the love you couldn’t bear to confess.

As you lay there, Tara knocked on your door before entering without waiting for a response. She took one look at you and rushed to your side, her eyes wide with concern. “Y/N! You look awful! Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this bad?”

You turned your head away, biting your lip to keep from crying. “I’m fine. Just a little tired, that’s all.”

“Stop lying to me!” she exclaimed, her voice shaking with frustration. “You’re clearly not okay. You need to see a doctor. If you won’t talk to Jenna, then you’ll at least talk to someone else.”

At that moment, the walls you've built around yourself finally crumbled, and the truth began to pour out. “I don’t want to talk about it, Tara! I’m just… I’m just trying to keep it together.”

Her gaze softened, and she reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly. “You don’t have to do this alone. Let me help you.”

You felt the warmth of her support, and for the first time in days, you let yourself lean into it. “I… I don’t know how to explain it,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “There’s something wrong with me, and I don’t want to burden you with it.”

“You’re my best friend. You’re never a burden to me,” she said, her tone gentle yet firm. “Just tell me what’s going on. Please.”

With a shaky breath, you finally relented, the weight of your secret pressing down on you like an anchor. “I think I have Hanahaki disease. It’s… it’s because of Zayne.”

Tara’s eyes widened in shock. “What? How long have you known?”

“Since the checkup,” you admitted, tears spilling down your cheeks. “But I can’t tell him. I can’t let him know how I feel. And if I don’t have the surgery, the flowers will keep growing. I don’t want him to see me like this.”

“Y/N…” Tara began, her voice a soothing balm against your anxiety. “You need to take care of yourself first. If Zayne cares about you like you think he does, he’ll understand.”

The idea felt foreign, a small glimmer of hope amidst the suffocating darkness. But would he really care? Would it matter to him?

You shook your head, the thoughts swirling like a tempest in your mind. “I can’t go back to him. Not like this.”

Tara leaned closer, determination shining in her eyes. “Then let’s go to the hospital and get you the help you need. You don’t have to face this alone. We’ll figure it out together.”

For the first time in days, the thought of facing your illness didn’t feel as daunting. Maybe there was still a chance to reclaim a piece of yourself. Taking what Tara said by heart, you stood up, ready to fight the battle you’d been avoiding for too long.

You need to come up with a plan without involving Zayne. He doesn’t need to know and carry the guilt of you being sick. He’s a doctor, for fuck’s sake. How could he bear to treat you when he learns that he’s the reason for it? Or worse, will he have to be the one to  surgically remove the plant growing inside you to completely remove him for life?

After a long period of silence, you turn to Tara with dried tears in your eyes, determined and decided.

“Tara, I need you to listen to me about what I’m about to do.”

Filing a leave of absence from the Hunters Association felt like the hardest thing you’d done in a while, but it was the first necessary step. You expected resistance—Jenna rarely let anyone take time off easily, especially not with everything happening in Linkon City. But to your surprise, she granted your request immediately, no questions asked. Maybe she’d seen more of your exhaustion than you realized. Or maybe she knew this was something you needed to do alone.

Once the leave was secured, you contacted Sylus, the only one you know who could help you get into the N109 zone safely, a place few dared to go unless they had business on the other side of the law. He was your last hope for hiding away from everything: Zayne, your disease, and the life you couldn’t bear to face anymore. You expected him to hesitate, maybe even refuse to help, but Sylus responded almost immediately, granting you safe passage to his home without a second thought.

“You look rough, sweetie,” Sylus said the moment you stepped through the door. His nickname for you, one you used to find annoying and mocking, now felt oddly comforting. But today, there was no mockery in his tone. Only concern.

You glanced up at him, feeling the weight of his crimson eyes studying you. He wasn’t just looking at you; he was seeing you, seeing how much you’d changed since the last time you stayed in N109. Your skin had lost its color, your lips were dry and cracked, and your once sharp, determined eyes had dulled with fatigue and the weight of secrets.

Sylus sighed, stepping aside to let you pass. “You know where your room is.”

You nodded weakly, mumbling a soft “thank you” as you dragged yourself through the dimly lit hallway. Luke and Keiran, Sylus’s trusted associates, were already by your side, taking the backpack from your shoulder and exchanging worried glances as they guided you to your room.

The room was exactly as you remembered it—small but cozy, tucked away in a quiet corner of Sylus’s house. It had been your safe haven once before, back when the pressures of the outside world had gotten too heavy. But this time, it felt different. You were running from more than just stress. You were running from yourself.

Luke placed your bag on the chair while Keiran hovered near the door, his usual mischievous demeanor replaced by concern. “Are you hungry?” Keiran asked, his voice unusually gentle.

You shook your head, barely able to muster the energy to respond. The truth was, you hadn’t felt hunger in days, the constant nausea from the flowers growing inside you making food seem like an afterthought.

Keiran exchanged a glance with Luke before stepping closer. “You need to eat something, Y/N. You’re looking… worse than usual.”

You couldn’t help but give a weak smile at his bluntness. “I’ll eat later,” you promised, though you knew you probably wouldn’t.

Luke stayed silent and didn’t press the issue. Instead, he handed you a glass of water, and you took it gratefully, sipping slowly as the two of them busied themselves tidying the room. You could feel their unspoken worry, the way they moved more carefully around you, like you might break at any moment.

“Anything else you need, just let us know,” Luke said quietly before they both left, closing the door behind them.

Alone at last, you collapsed onto the bed, the exhaustion finally catching up to you. The room felt too quiet, too still, and your thoughts began to spiral. You’d made it to N109. You were away from Zayne, away from the Association, from everything. But the weight in your chest—the flowers—remained. You could feel them growing, their roots twisting deeper with every unspoken word, every feeling you couldn’t voice.

You lay there for a long time, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how long you could keep running. How long until the disease consumed you completely?

There was a soft knock at the door, and you turned your head to see Sylus leaning against the frame, holding a tray of what looked like a warm bowl of noodles. 

“Not eating, huh?” he said, his voice low. “I figured. Got you something anyway.” He walked in and placed the tray on the side table. You were right. It was one of your favorites when you stayed here before.

You smiled weakly. “You don’t have to do this.”

Sylus shrugged, his crimson eyes still locked on you, sharper now, as if he could see the weight you were carrying. He goes back to lean against the door frame, watching you like you were going to break at any second. “I do when you come back looking like death warmed over. What’s going on, Y/N?”

You wanted to tell him. You wanted to spill everything—the disease, your love for Zayne, the way it was slowly killing you. But the words stuck in your throat, and all you could manage was a tired, “It’s complicated.”

Sylus’s gaze didn’t waver. “Everything’s complicated. Doesn’t mean you can’t talk about it.”

For a moment, you considered it, but then the thought of Zayne flashed through your mind. The image of him with Emma, happy, unburdened by your love, and the flowers in your chest tightened.

“I’ll be fine,” you said instead, though you weren’t sure you believed it yourself.

Sylus stared at you for another long moment before sighing. “Well, you’re here now. Rest up. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

He pushed off the doorframe and left you alone again, but his words lingered in the air. We’ll figure it out.

But what if there was nothing left to figure out? What if the only solution was letting the flowers take you?

The silence of the room settled over you like a heavy blanket, pressing down on your chest until it was almost unbearable. Every breath felt strained, like the air itself was growing thicker. It has been a few days. You hadn’t told Sylus, or anyone for that matter, the full truth of your condition. But you could feel it—the flowers—growing stronger, more vicious by the day. Sylus has ordered a doctor to come to your room, just to check up on you. Just as you predicted, doctors are a bit hard to come by in this area. The doctor knows little about Hanahaki disease, so you told him it was your Protocore Disease accompanied by accumulated stress from work. He gave you suppressants and asked Sylus to monitor you for now.

Hours passed in a blur of restless half-sleep, until a sharp pain in your chest jolted you awake. You pressed a hand to your ribs, wincing as a violent cough wracked your body, more intense than any you’d had before. Panic surged through you as the pressure built in your throat, forcing you out of bed.

You stumbled into the bathroom, hands trembling as you gripped the edge of the sink. Another cough ripped through you, harder this time, and you doubled over, gasping. You felt something sharp and foreign rise in your throat—something too large, too wrong.

With a shuddering breath, you coughed again, and this time, something solid came up. You coughed repeatedly but it would just not come out. Tears stream down your face from the pain and frustration. You began to help it by pulling it out with your fingers. And finally, it came out.

You leaned over the sink, spitting out the mass into the basin, your heart pounding in your chest. When you looked down, you froze.

A stem of thorns, slick with blood, curled like a dark vine in the sink. Each thorn gleamed under the dim light, jagged and cruel. The petals had been bad enough, but this—this was something else. Something worse. You couldn’t ignore it any longer. The disease was advancing, and it was doing so faster than you’d anticipated.

Panic surged through you as you backed away from the sink, a quiet whimper escaping your lips. You pressed a trembling hand to your mouth, trying to stifle the sound, but it was too late. You hear that damn bird cawing outside the door. 

The door creaked open, and Sylus stepped into the bathroom, his eyes narrowing the moment he saw you. He was still dressed fully like he just came back from outside. He must’ve had a meeting late at night, a normal occurrence in this place. Mephisto, sits by his shoulder, cawing like he was the one who led Sylus to you. 

“Y/N?” His voice was low but urgent, the edge of concern sharpening his usually calm demeanor.

You turned, eyes wide, your hand still pressed to your mouth as if you could hide the evidence. But it was no use. His gaze flickered from you to the sink, where the thorny stem still lay, stark against the white porcelain. There was blood all over your mouth, dripping on your hands and neck.

“Sweetie…” His voice dropped, softer now, but laced with something darker. “What the hell is going on?”

You couldn’t speak. The words stuck in your throat, tangled with fear and shame. Sylus crossed the room in a few quick strides, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached the sink. He stared at the thorns for a moment before looking back at you, his face hardening with realization.

“You’ve got Hanahaki, don’t you?” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, a truth you could no longer deny.

Tears welled in your eyes as you nodded, your hands shaking as you gripped the edge of the sink for support. “I… I didn’t want to tell anyone. I thought I could handle it,” your voice was hoarse, throat swollen as you tried so hard to speak.

“Handle it?” Sylus’s voice cracked, and he ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep his frustration in check. “You’re coughing up thorns, Y/N, rose thorns. You do know that rose is one of the deadliest strains of Hanahaki, don’t you? This isn’t something you can just ‘handle.’ Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

You swallowed hard, the taste of blood still lingering red in your mouth. “Because… because it’s because of Zayne.”

Sylus froze, his eyes widening in shock. “Zayne? You mean—”

You nodded, the confession spilling out like a dam breaking. “I’ve loved him for so long, Sylus, and I can’t stop. But he’s with someone else now. And I… I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t put that on him, not when he’s happy.”

Sylus’s expression darkened, and he let out a low, frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Darling, you’re killing yourself over him. You should have told me sooner.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you tried to catch your breath, the pain in your chest growing sharper. “I didn’t know what else to do. I thought… I thought I could live with it, but it’s getting worse. The flowers, they’re… they’re spreading.”

Sylus stepped closer, his hands gripping your shoulders gently but firmly. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’ll figure something out. But first, we need to get you to a doctor. A real one, not some back-alley medic.”

“I can’t,” you whispered, shaking your head. “If I get the surgery, it’ll remove the feelings entirely. I won’t feel anything for Zayne anymore. And… and I don’t know if I’m ready to let go of that.”

Sylus’s expression softened, the anger fading as he saw the pain in your eyes. “I get it. But you have to take care of yourself first. This disease—it’s going to kill you if you don’t do something. I’m not letting you waste away like this.”

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his words sink in. You didn’t want to die. Not like this. But the thought of losing your feelings for Zayne, of letting go of the love that had been a part of you for so long—it felt like a different kind of death.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

Sylus nodded, his hands still steady on your shoulders. “I know. But I’ve got you, sweetie. We’ll get through this.”

You nodded, feeling the tears fall freely now. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to lean on someone else. To let Sylus’s strength carry you, if only for a little while.

“We’ll get you to a doctor in the N109 zone,” he said quietly. “Someone who can help, someone who won’t ask too many questions. But after that… you need to make a decision, Y/N. Whether you want the surgery or not, you need to choose. I’ll support you, whatever you decide.”

You nodded, knowing that the time for running was over. You couldn’t keep pretending this wasn’t happening. The flowers had taken root, and now it was up to you to decide how to survive.

Zayne sat at his desk, staring down at the empty appointment slot on his tablet. It had been weeks since you missed your first check-up, and at first, he didn’t think much of it—Hunters had unpredictable schedules, after all. But then you missed the next one. And the one after that. Now, weeks had passed without so much as a text from you, and an uneasy feeling had settled deep in his gut. You were never this irresponsible about your health.

He tried reaching out—texts, calls—but all had gone unanswered. That was when real concern started to gnaw at him. The you he knew wouldn’t just vanish like that, especially not from something as crucial as your medical check-ups. Something was wrong.

He didn’t like the feeling. In fact, it twisted in his chest, growing heavier by the day. He’d dealt with plenty of patients who disappeared on him, but you were different. You always kept in touch, always made an effort to keep things light even when you were battered from a mission. But now? Silence.

Sighing, Zayne grabbed his coat and decided to take matters into his own hands. He needed to check on you in person. He knew where your apartment was—he’d dropped off medicine there more times than he could count after your particularly rough assignments. His job required him to keep an eye on his patients, but with you, it was more than that. He hated the way his thoughts kept drifting back to you.

The streets leading to your apartment were quiet as he made his way over, the familiar hum of the city blending into the background. His mind raced as he walked up the stairs to your door, running over all the possibilities: maybe you were hurt, maybe you were sick, maybe you were avoiding him. That last one gnawed at him harder than the others.

When he finally reached your apartment, Zayne rang the doorbell, waiting for a response. Silence. He knocked this time, but there was no movement, no sound coming from within. His heart sank a little, and he tried the handle. Locked.

“Y/N?” he called out, pressing his ear to the door. Nothing.

He felt his pulse quicken. He checked the windows, walked around the perimeter, hoping for some sign that you were there. But the place was eerily still. It was clear you hadn’t been home for a while. The anxiety that had been simmering in the back of his mind began to boil over.

Zayne pulled out his phone and scrolled to Tara’s number. If anyone knew where you were, it would be her. You were inseparable as fellow Hunters, practically glued to each other on and off the field. If something was wrong, Tara would have noticed.

The phone rang, each buzz tightening the knot in his stomach, until finally, Tara’s voice came through.

“Zayne? What’s up?”

“Hey, Tara,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Have you seen Y/N lately? She’s missed a couple of appointments, and I just went by her apartment. She’s not there, and she hasn’t been answering my calls.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Zayne’s chest tightened at the silence. Tara wasn’t usually one to hesitate.

“Zayne…” Her voice softened. “She’s on leave.”

“Leave?” His brow furrowed. “Since when? Why didn’t she tell me?”

“She filed for leave about a week and a half ago,” Tara explained, her tone tinged with worry. “She hasn’t been herself lately. I mean, she’s not feeling well and went on sick leave… I figured she needed some time to recover, but I don’t know where she went.”

Zayne’s grip on his phone tightened. “Wait, she’s been sick?”

“I don’t know how bad, but it’s been getting worse. I tried to get her to rest, but you know Y/N. She’s stubborn. Always pushing herself too hard.” Tara sighed on the other end. “I haven’t been able to reach her since she left either. I thought maybe she just needed space, but… I don’t know, Zayne. She told me she’ll come back when she feels better.”

Zayne’s mind raced. Sick? That explained your recent absence from your appointments, but why hadn’t you come to him? Why hadn’t you said anything? And where the hell were you now? The idea of you out there, alone, battling something serious without any support—it made his stomach turn. He was supposed to be your physician. Who else could you trust more in this situation? 

“Thanks, Tara,” he said quickly. “If you hear from her, let me know immediately.”

“You too,” Tara said, her voice growing softer with concern. “I hope she’s okay.”

Zayne hung up, his thoughts swirling in a storm of worry and frustration. This wasn’t just a case of missing appointments. You were sick, and you hadn’t told anyone what it is that you’re feeling. Not Tara, not the Association, and not him. The thought of you out there somewhere, getting worse by the day, hit him hard.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He wasn’t going to let this slide. He needed to find you, and fast. And if you were too stubborn to ask for help, well, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to give it to you anyway. You didn’t get to disappear on him. Not like this. Not when it felt like something was so deeply, dangerously wrong.

The underground clinic in the N109 Zone was dimly lit, the scent of antiseptic and metal lingering in the air. Sylus sat beside you, his crimson eyes fixed on the makeshift doctor as she examined your condition. The doctor, a woman with worn hands and tired eyes, shook her head slightly, pulling back from the dim glow of her equipment. Sylus told you she’s the only one in the area who specializes in Hanahaki disease.

“It’s as I suspected,” she said quietly, her voice barely carrying over the hum of old machines. “The remedies I’ve given her will alleviate some of the symptoms—the coughing, the pain—but they won’t stop the disease. Hanahaki can only be cured one way.”

You knew what she was going to say before she even spoke the words. You felt it every time you coughed, every time a petal slipped from your lips, every time the thorny vines twisted deeper into your lungs. Hanahaki Disease was a cruel sickness. Only unrequited love could birth it, and only love returned could stop it.

Sylus stood, pacing the small clinic room, his fists clenched tight. “So what’s the point of this?” he growled. “You’re telling me she’s just going to keep getting worse?”

The doctor nodded grimly. “I’ve seen cases like this before. Without reciprocation, the flowers will continue to bloom. The disease will spread. It will choke her from the inside out.” Her eyes shifted to you, softening with pity. “She’ll have to make a choice soon. Either have the flowers removed surgically and forget her feelings entirely, or…”

“Or die,” you finished for her, your voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor didn’t respond, but the silence was enough.

Sylus slammed his fist into the nearest counter, rattling the tools scattered across its surface. “There has to be another way.”

The doctor said nothing. She’d already given her answer.

You shifted uncomfortably in the worn cot, feeling the sharp sting of another thorn scratching at your throat. You pressed a hand to your mouth, and when you pulled it away, you saw more petals—vibrant, soft, and hauntingly beautiful. The irony wasn’t lost on you: love, something meant to be pure and life-giving, was slowly killing you.

Sylus knelt beside you, his frustration giving way to concern. He grabbed your hand, his grip firm but gentle. “You can’t keep doing this, Y/N. You need real help.”

You met his gaze, seeing the worry etched deep into his features. You wanted to tell him that you were fine, that you could push through this. But the truth was, you didn’t know how much longer you could keep going. Each day, the flowers bloomed more aggressively. Each day, you felt your strength slipping away. And the one person who could save you—Zayne—was unreachable, tangled in a new relationship, unaware of the feelings you’d been hiding.

“I don’t want to forget him,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

Sylus’s expression darkened. “You’re dying for a man who doesn’t even know you’re dying because of him.”

You knew he was right. You’d seen Zayne’s smile when Emma came to his office. Zayne wasn’t yours to love, not anymore. Maybe he never was. But the thought of forgetting him entirely—of erasing every moment, every memory, every flicker of what could have been—was unbearable.

“I can’t,” you murmured. “Not yet.”

Sylus let out a slow breath, his frustration palpable, but he didn’t push further. He simply stayed by your side, silent but steadfast, offering the only comfort he could in this grim situation.

Days passed in a haze of pain and exhaustion. The makeshift remedies from the underground doctors kept the worst of the symptoms at bay, but they couldn’t stop the inevitable. The flowers continued to bloom, their roots digging deeper into your chest. You could feel them, a constant presence now, weighing down your lungs, stealing your breath little by little.

One night, as you lay in bed at Sylus’s place, you woke to another coughing fit. This time, it wasn’t just petals that came up—there were stems, long and twisted, covered in thorns. You pressed a trembling hand to your chest, feeling the flowers pressing against your ribs, desperate to grow, desperate to take over. You couldn’t stop them.

Sylus found you sitting on the bathroom floor, clutching your chest, petals and stems scattered across the tiles. He didn’t say anything at first. He just knelt beside you, his expression a mix of anger and helplessness.

“You don’t have much time left, do you?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. You hadn’t realized how weak you’d become until that moment, how much the disease had taken from you. The once-strong Hunter now sat in a heap, broken by love that was never meant to be.

Sylus grabbed his phone, his voice tense as he called another doctor. “She needs real help. Now.”

But deep down, you both knew the truth. There was no real cure for Hanahaki—not unless Zayne’s love was returned. And that hope was slipping further out of reach with each passing day.

The dim lighting of Sylus’s home did little to soothe your nerves. After another coughing fit that left you weakened and breathless, you sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the bouquet of petals in your hand—pale, soft, and soaked in blood. The weight of your condition felt more unbearable with every passing day, the flowers pushing closer to your heart, the thorns digging deeper into your lungs. Yet, even after everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to agree to the surgery that would rip not only the flowers from you but also your feelings for Zayne.

There was a knock on the door. Sylus entered, followed closely by the underground doctor from the N109 zone. She carried a bag of supplies, her face etched with the same quiet concern you’d come to expect from her.

“Y/N, we need to talk,” Sylus began, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. He took a seat beside you, his crimson eyes meeting yours. “The remedies we’ve been giving you… they’re not enough. You’re getting worse.”

“I know,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “But I’m not ready for the surgery. I can’t just… forget.”

The doctor stepped forward, glancing at Sylus before speaking. “Y/N, I understand your hesitation. But we’ve been talking, and there might be another option.”

You looked up, confused. “Another option?”

“It’s not a cure,” she clarified, her tone careful, “but there’s a treatment we could try. It won’t stop the disease entirely, but it could slow it down—buy you more time, at least. It would alleviate some of the more aggressive symptoms, like the coughing and the thorn growth.”

Your hope flickered. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

The doctor exchanged a quick glance with Sylus, then spoke again. “The treatment is experimental, and the resources here in the N109 zone are… limited. We don’t have the proper equipment to administer it safely. You’d have to go back to Linkon City, to Akso Hospital.”

Linkon City. The name sent a jolt of fear and longing through you. It meant facing everything you were trying to run from—Zayne, his new relationship with Emma, the memories you were desperate to hold onto. But it also meant the possibility of relief, of not feeling like you were drowning every time you took a breath.

“How does it work?” you asked warily, your eyes darting between the doctor and Sylus.

“The treatment will slow the growth of the flowers,” she explained. “It won’t cure the disease, but it’ll suppress the symptoms long enough for us to manage them. It’ll give you more time to decide what you want to do.”

Sylus crossed his arms, his gaze heavy on you. “It’s the best option right now, Y/N. Better than sitting here, wasting away.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. Going back to Linkon meant stepping right back into Zayne’s world. You didn’t know if you could handle seeing him again, knowing that you still loved him and that he had moved on. But the alternative—letting the disease run its course, with no other options left—was becoming harder to endure.

“What if it doesn’t work?” you asked quietly, fear creeping into your voice.

The doctor’s face softened. “It’s a risk, I won’t lie. But right now, doing nothing is a bigger risk.”

You clenched the sheets in your hands, the conflicting emotions inside you swirling like a storm. You wanted to believe that this new treatment would help, that it would give you enough time to figure things out. But deep down, a part of you knew this was a gamble.

“I don’t know if I can go back there,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Zayne… he…”

Sylus placed a hand on your shoulder, his expression firm but kind. “You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to. But you can’t die like this, Y/N. Not when there’s still a chance, even if it’s a small one.”

The doctor nodded. “I’ll arrange everything with Akso Hospital. They have the facilities and the staff to administer the treatment safely. You can be in and out, no one needs to know you’re there.”

You swallowed hard, the idea of returning to Linkon gnawing at you. But the weight of the disease was becoming too much to bear. If this treatment really could slow it down, even for a little while, maybe it was worth the risk. You didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not without trying something.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “I’ll go.”

Sylus’s hand tightened on your shoulder briefly, a silent show of support. The doctor nodded, already pulling out her comms to make the necessary arrangements.

“I’ll set it up for tomorrow,” she said. “We’ll get you to Linkon, get the treatment started, and bring you back here before anyone even knows you’re gone.”

You nodded, but deep down, a part of you wasn’t convinced. Something about this didn’t feel right. But you were too exhausted, too weak to argue. For now, you would hold on to the hope that this “treatment” would give you the time you desperately needed. Time to figure out what came next—whether you could keep running from the love that was slowly killing you, or whether you had no choice but to let it go.

As the doctor left to make the arrangements, you lay back against the pillow, the weight of the decision settling over you like a heavy cloak. You had no idea what awaited you in Linkon. All you knew was that whatever happened, it would bring you closer to the inevitable.

Zayne sat in his office at Akso Hospital, his fingers tapping restlessly on the desk. Something had been gnawing at the back of his mind for weeks—Y/N’s sudden disappearance from her regular checkups, the silence she’d maintained despite his attempts to reach out. She had always been stubborn, always tough, but this felt different. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

A message buzzed on his comm, interrupting his thoughts. It was from Greyson. Zayne opened the message, his eyes skimming over the text quickly:

“Heard a rumor. A Hunter suffering from Hanahaki Disease is being admitted to Akso. Thought you’d want to know.”

His heart stopped. Hanahaki Disease. He hadn’t heard of anyone in the Hunter circle suffering from it—no one except… No. It couldn’t be.

Zayne read the message again, his mind spinning. The only Hunter who had been coming to him regularly, the only one who had left without explanation, was Y/N. His mind raced, replaying every moment from their last appointment—the slight cough she tried to hide, the way she seemed distant, and the sudden leave she took from the Hunters Association. The pieces began to fit together like a cruel puzzle, one that painted a picture of her suffering in silence. 

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. Y/N had been in love with someone, and the disease had taken root because the other hadn’t returned those feelings. And now, because of that, she was dying. Why didn’t she tell him? There could only be one reason why she didn’t ask for his help, her only physician. 

Zayne stood abruptly, knocking a few files off his desk as he scrambled to process what this meant. He felt an overwhelming sense of guilt wash over him—he had been blind to her feelings, caught up in his new relationship with Emma, while Y/N had been silently withering away. He was so in sync with Emma, so alike, that when she asked if they could try being more than colleagues and friends, he didn’t know why he actually agreed to date. He must tell you that. He must tell you that he…

Oh. He does. For so long. 

He couldn’t waste another second. Grabbing his coat, Zayne rushed out of his office, his mind focused on one thing: finding Y/N before it was too late.

He tapped his phone, dialing a doctor from the network who was set to oversee the patient’s treatment. The voice on the other end answered quickly.

“Zayne? What’s going on?”

“I need to know about the patient coming in with Hanahaki Disease. The Hunter,” Zayne said, his voice tense, barely controlled. “When are they being admitted?”

There was a pause, then the voice responded, hesitant. “That’s confidential information, Zayne. I can’t just—”

“It’s Y/N,” Zayne interrupted, his tone sharp. “She’s the one with Hanahaki Disease, isn’t she?”

Another pause, this one longer, more telling. “Zayne… I don’t know all the details, but… yes. She’s scheduled for surgery tomorrow.”

His heart dropped. Surgery. Hanahaki Disease could only be cured in two ways—either by having her love returned or by undergoing surgery to remove the flowers. But the surgery came with a cruel price: it would erase her feelings completely. Y/N wouldn’t just lose the disease; she would lose her love for him, and all the memories tied to it.

Zayne’s grip tightened on the comm. “Cancel the surgery. I’m coming.”

“Zayne, you can’t—”

“Cancel it,” Zayne said firmly. “I’m not going to let her go through with this without knowing the truth.”

He disconnected the call, his heart racing as he stormed down the hallways of the hospital. His thoughts were a whirlwind of panic and guilt. He should’ve noticed sooner. He should’ve been there for her. But there was still time—he had to believe that. He could fix this, he had to.

Zayne made his way to his car, his mind already racing ahead to what he would say to her. He had no idea how she would react, or if she even wanted to see him after everything, but he couldn’t let her go through with the surgery. He had to tell her how he felt. Because the truth was, somewhere along the way, his feelings for her had grown too.

As he drove through the city, his thoughts lingered on Y/N—on her strength, her stubbornness, and the way she had always kept her distance, even when he tried to get close. He had been blind, wrapped up in his own life, too focused on the surface of things. But now, he understood. And he wasn’t going to let her suffer in silence any longer.

Zayne’s mind was racing as the car sped towards Akso Hospital, the weight of everything crashing down on him. He didn’t know if she would even listen to him. But one thing was certain: he couldn’t let her go through that surgery without knowing that he was ready to fight for her—for them.

For the first time, Zayne realized just how much he cared for Y/N. How much she meant to him, and how blind he had been to the quiet way she had always been there. He couldn’t let her lose that, not when he could still save her.

Tomorrow, you’ll be leaving for Linkon and you couldn’t sleep. Your mind is everywhere until you found yourself once again in the bathroom. The dim, suffocating air of the room wrapped around you like a cold embrace. Your breath came in shallow, ragged gasps as you hunched over the sink, your hands trembling as you help yourself hurl the white rose. The familiar metallic taste filled your mouth, but this time, it was worse—far worse than it had ever been.

When you finally dared to glance down, your heart nearly stopped. There, lying in the sink, was the largest bloom yet: a full white rose, its petals soft and fragile, but tangled in sharp, vicious thorns. Blood stained the delicate petals, your blood, and the sight of it sent a shudder down your spine. You clutched the edge of the sink for support, your vision swimming as pain tore through your chest.

This was it. The disease had progressed further than you had imagined. No makeshift remedy could stop it now. There was no time to experiment.

The thorns, tangled and sharp, had felt like they were tearing you apart from the inside out. The flowers—the symbol of love that you couldn’t escape—had bloomed in full force, reminding you of the feelings you had tried so desperately to bury. Every cough felt like a knife in your lungs, but it was more than just physical pain. It was the heartbreak of loving someone who would never love you back.

You stumbled back from the sink, collapsing onto the floor, clutching your chest as you struggled to breathe. The decision you had been avoiding for so long now weighed heavily on you, inescapable. You couldn’t survive this. The love that had rooted itself deep within you was slowly killing you, and there was no way to keep running.

Sylus found you moments later, rushing into the bathroom when he heard your weak cries for help. His crimson eyes widened when he saw you, his usual stoic expression breaking with a mix of shock and concern. He knelt beside you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder, his voice low.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his tone softer than you had ever heard it. “This… you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Your throat felt raw as you coughed again, tasting blood on your lips. You couldn’t even muster the strength to argue, your body finally betraying you in the worst way possible. Sylus helped you sit up, his eyes briefly glancing at the bloodied rose in the sink. He didn’t say anything, but the look on his face told you he understood.

“I can’t… I can’t fight it anymore,” you rasped, your voice barely audible. “I need the surgery.”

Sylus’s eyes flickered with something that almost looked like relief, but it was tempered by the knowledge of what the surgery meant. He knew the cost—the erasure of your feelings for Zayne, the love that had been such a painful part of you for so long. But he also knew there was no other choice now.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded weakly, wiping at your mouth with a shaking hand. “It’s the only way. I… I don’t want to die like this.”

Sylus exhaled slowly, standing up and helping you to your feet. “Then I’ll make the arrangements. We’ll leave for Linkon as soon as you’re ready.”

Your legs wobbled beneath you, but you managed to steady yourself with Sylus’s support. The weight of your decision settled over you like a heavy blanket—stifling, but somehow also freeing. You would lose your love for Zayne, that much was certain. But at least you would survive. At least the pain would stop. And you could get back to work. You could see him again and act like nothing happened. It would be better for everyone if you just didn’t feel. 

As you packed your things for the journey back to Linkon City, your heart felt strangely hollow. There was no going back now. You were going to let the surgery take away everything—the flowers, the thorns, and the love that had nearly consumed you. You would lose the part of yourself that had been tied to Zayne, but maybe that was for the best.

Maybe, in the end, forgetting him and his memories would be the only way to move forward.

With a final, shaky breath, you looked out the window, knowing this was your last chance to feel the weight of your love before it was ripped away forever.

The familiar, sterile scent of Akso Hospital greeted you the moment you arrived in your room. The journey back to Linkon had been long and exhausting, and your body felt more fragile than ever. Every breath seemed to rattle within your chest, the flowers pressing harder against your lungs as the disease worsened.

Sylus had helped you settle into the bed, his usual stoic demeanor faltering slightly as he glanced at you with concern. “I’ll check in on you later,” he said, his voice gruff but laced with an underlying care. “I can’t be seen much around here, you know that. If you need anything, let me know.”

You nodded weakly, barely managing to muster a response. All you could think about was the surgery—the thought of the flowers, and your feelings for Zayne, being torn out of you for good. The relief of that thought was tinged with sadness, a weight that settled heavily in your heart.

Just as you closed your eyes to try to find some rest, the door creaked open.

You didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

“Y/N.”

His voice—steady, but holding the edge of something raw—cut through the quiet room like a blade. Your eyes snapped open, and you turned your head to see Zayne standing in the doorway, his expression torn between worry and something deeper, something more desperate.

You sat up slowly, your body protesting the movement as pain flared in your chest. “Zayne… how did you—”

“I found out,” he interrupted, stepping further into the room. “I found out about your condition, about the Hanahaki. I—” He faltered, as if the words were too heavy to form. His eyes were wide with something you hadn’t seen before—panic.

You shook your head, cutting him off. “Zayne, it’s too late. I’m getting the surgery.”

He froze, standing still as his eyes locked onto yours. “You don’t have to do this.”

Your heart clenched painfully at the words, but you forced yourself to keep your expression steady. “Yes, I do,” you replied softly. “I can’t keep living like this. These flowers, this pain… it’s killing me.”

Zayne’s eyes darkened, his hands clenched at his sides. “You don’t have to lose your feelings for me. You can survive this without giving that up.”

You let out a bitter laugh, your voice trembling with the effort. “How, Zayne? You don’t return my feelings, and this disease… it only stops when the love is mutual.” You met his gaze, trying to convey the finality of your decision. “I don’t have a choice.”

He took another step closer, his face tight with emotion. “But you do have a choice. You don’t need to do this surgery. We can figure something out—together.”

You shook your head, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “There’s nothing to figure out. I’ve already decided. This is the only way.”

Zayne’s eyes were stormy with conflict. You could see the guilt eating away at him, the pain of realizing what his absence had cost you. But you also knew he wasn’t here to confess his love. He was here because he cared, because he felt responsible. And as much as that hurt, you couldn’t let that be the reason to hold onto hope.

“Zayne, please…” Your voice cracked as you looked at him, your body trembling with exhaustion. “Just go. Let me do this.”

He moved toward you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your face. The contact was warm, his touch familiar and comforting, but you could feel the hesitation in him, the uncertainty that hung in the air.

“You don’t understand,” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Your heart clenched at his words, but you pulled away from his touch, shaking your head. “You won’t lose me, Zayne. You’ll still have me as a friend, as someone you care about. But I can’t… I can’t keep loving you like this.”

Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill over. This was it. This was the moment you had to let go, no matter how much it hurt. You couldn’t bear to love him any longer, not when it was destroying you from the inside.

Zayne’s expression faltered, his hand falling back to his side. “Y/N…”

“Zayne, just go,” you whispered. 

“Y/N, wait,” he said, his voice low but urgent.

You blinked up at him, confused. “Zayne, please, don’t make this harder than it already is.”

But he wasn’t listening. His hand gripped yours as if it was the only thing keeping him steady, his chest rising and falling heavily with each breath. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he began, his voice strained.

You frowned, your heart sinking. “What is it?”

His eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time, you saw more than just concern. There was something deeper, something conflicted.

“About Emma—the other doctor,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not what you think. We’re not… It’s not as serious as you believe.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly shook your head, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you. “Zayne, it doesn’t matter. You’re with her, and that’s fine. I’ve already accepted that.”

“No, you haven’t,” he said sharply, stepping closer. His eyes flashed with frustration. “And I haven’t either. I ended things with her.”

You stared at him, trying to make sense of his words. “What do you mean?”

Zayne hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing as if he was gathering the courage to say something he’d been holding back for too long. “I’ve been avoiding my feelings, Y/N. For a long time. I thought keeping things professional between us was the right thing to do, the smart thing to do.” He paused, searching your eyes. “But seeing you like this… seeing you suffering because of me…”

His voice trailed off, thick with emotion, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. This was a side of him you had never seen, a vulnerability you hadn’t expected. You opened your mouth to speak, but he wasn’t done.

“I didn’t want to face it,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “I thought that by staying focused on my work, on our roles, I could keep things simple. But I can’t anymore. Not when I know what’s happening to you. Not when I realize I’m the reason you’ve been hurting.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his words sank in, and you felt the familiar sting of tears building behind your eyes. “Zayne… what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I don’t want to lose you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been scared, Y/N. Scared of what it would mean if I let myself feel more for you. But I can’t hide from it anymore. I care about you—more than I should have ever let myself admit.”

The room seemed to shrink around you, his words sinking in deeper with every breath you took. Your heart was racing, your mind a whirlwind of emotions you had thought were on the verge of being erased forever.

“Zayne…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You… you never said anything.”

He shook his head, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. I should have been honest with you, with myself. But I’m here now, and I’m telling you that I don’t want you to go through with the surgery.” He squeezed your hand gently, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Don’t erase your feelings, Y/N. Don’t erase us.”

You stared at him, your heart aching with the weight of his words. For so long, you had believed that he would never return your feelings, that your love for him would remain unrequited. But now, here he was, asking you to give him a chance. Asking you to believe that it wasn’t too late.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you murmured, your throat tight with emotion. “I was ready to move on, to forget…”

Zayne leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don’t have to forget. We can figure this out—together. Please, Y/N… give us a chance.”

Tears finally spilled down your cheeks as you looked into his eyes, the weight of your love for him pressing hard against your chest. The flowers had bloomed so fully within you, so painfully, but for the first time, you felt a spark of hope.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

“I am too,” Zayne replied softly, his thumb brushing away one of your tears. “But I’d rather face that fear with you than lose you because of it.”

The silence between you was thick, filled with the weight of everything unsaid, everything you had both been too afraid to confront. But now, in the quiet of the hospital room, with the flowers inside you on the verge of consuming you, there was a new possibility blooming—a chance for something real.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Zayne smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly as he leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours. “Then don’t.”

The decision still weighed heavily on you—the surgery, the flowers, the uncertainty of what the future would bring. But in this moment, with Zayne by your side, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late after all.

The tension in the room hung thick as you gazed at Zayne, his forehead still resting gently against yours, his hand holding yours like an anchor. You could feel the weight of your decision pressing down on you, the reality of your situation still swirling in your mind.

The surgery—the removal of your feelings and the flowers that had ravaged your body—was supposed to be your salvation. It was supposed to be your way out of the pain, the only option you had left to survive. But now, with Zayne in front of you, admitting the feelings you had thought would forever go unspoken, the certainty of that choice began to crack.

Could you really walk away from this now? From him?

With a deep, shuddering breath, you pulled back slightly to look into Zayne’s eyes, your hand still tightly clasped in his. The fear and confusion swirling in your chest didn’t vanish, but something else—a glimmer of hope—was beginning to take root.

“I can’t promise that this will work,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you spoke the truth that trembled within you. “I don’t know if my feelings will ever go away, or if the flowers will stop growing…”

Zayne shook his head, his eyes softening. “I’m not asking for guarantees,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet intensity. “I’m just asking for a chance. A chance for us. I… I like you, Y/N.”

Your throat tightened as emotion swelled inside you. For so long, you had been ready to let go, to numb yourself to the possibility of anything more. But now, with him sitting by your side, his touch grounding you in a way you hadn’t thought possible, the idea of walking away felt unbearable.

You didn’t want to let go—not of him, not of what could be.

With a slow exhale, you made the decision that had been forming in your heart ever since Zayne walked through the door. “I’ll… I’ll delay the surgery,” you said softly, your voice wavering but resolute. “Just for now.”

Zayne’s grip on your hand tightened, relief flooding his expression as his shoulders sagged slightly. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for giving this a chance.”

You nodded, your heart still pounding in your chest, but the dread you’d carried for so long felt a little lighter, like a weight that was finally beginning to lift.

As the hours passed, Zayne stayed by your side, refusing to leave. He sat close, his presence warm and steady as he talked quietly with you about anything and everything—his work, your missions as a Hunter, the lives you both led before this moment. It was as if the space between you, once filled with unspoken tension, was slowly being bridged by the quiet understanding that had always been there but never fully acknowledged.

And as the evening settled over Linkon City, something unexpected began to happen.

The pressure in your chest, once unbearable, began to ease. The sharp, suffocating pain of the flowers pressing against your lungs softened. You coughed lightly, out of habit more than necessity, but there were no thorns, no petals. You touched your chest, almost disbelieving, feeling the absence of the usual tightness.

Zayne noticed immediately, his eyes widening as he watched you. “Y/N?” he asked, concern still lacing his voice.

You took a deep breath—a real, full breath—and felt the difference. “The pain,” you said slowly, your voice filled with disbelief. “It’s… it’s not as bad.”

Zayne’s eyes softened as he leaned closer. “The flowers,” he murmured, his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand. “They’re withering, aren’t they?”

You nodded, still too stunned to speak. The flowers that had been blooming within you for so long, the painful manifestation of your unreturned love, were beginning to wilt. The thorns were loosening their grip, the petals curling inward, no longer feeding off the relentless ache in your heart.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a sense of relief, of hope. It wasn’t immediate, and it wasn’t a cure—but it was a start. A small sign that maybe, just maybe, your heart was beginning to heal.

Zayne squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. He closes the distance between you, lips meeting the skin of your forehead.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you let out a small, shaky laugh, overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events. “I missed you so bad,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Zayne smiled, the warmth in his expression lighting up the room. “So did I.”

And with that, a fragile but beautiful sense of hope bloomed between you, far more powerful than any of the flowers that had once threatened to destroy you. 

As the night deepened, you knew that the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, that your journey with Zayne was only just beginning. But for the first time in a long time, you weren’t afraid. You were ready to face whatever came next, together.

The flowers within you may have started to wither, but something far more enduring was taking their place—a glimmer of love, of possibility, of the future you could now dare to hope for. 

Zayne sat on the side of your bed, looking at you. You’ve just now realized the bag under his eyes and how much his hair wasn’t as kept as it always was. He looks tired. 

He holds your face again, looming close. You close your eyes and wait for him to close the distance. You can feel his breath on yours, slow and calming, until his lips softly land on yours. 

Back in the dimly lit underground of the N109 Zone, Sylus lounged in his usual chair, legs crossed casually as he flicked through his papers of work. Mephisto, his sleek, mechanical crow, perched on the edge of his desk. Its dark metal feathers glinted under the low light as its red eyes glowed with an eerie pulse. The crow had just returned from its latest mission, flying back from Linkon City with an update Sylus had been waiting on. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as Mephisto clicked softly, a sign it had recorded new information.

With a tap on the crow’s head, Sylus activated the playback, listening intently as a holographic projection materialized in the air between them. It showed clips of Y/N, her once-pale face now regaining a hint of color, the dark shadows under her eyes starting to fade. She was walking through the corridors of Akso Hospital, slower than her usual stride, but there was an unmistakable strength returning to her movements.

Sylus smirked, leaning back in his chair. “She’s getting better,” he murmured, satisfied. His crimson eyes flicked over the scenes of Y/N interacting with Zayne, watching as she spoke with him, her body language more relaxed than it had been in weeks. He noted the way Zayne hovered protectively, never too far, a subtle guardian by her side.

Mephisto clicked again, relaying more footage from its surveillance of the city. Sylus took it all in, his mind piecing together what had unfolded. Y/N had made her choice—not to go through with the surgery just yet. Instead, she was taking her chances with Zayne, exploring what could be between them.

Sylus’ fingers drummed lightly on the armrest of his chair as he considered it. He’d always respected Y/N’s strength, admired her resilience even when she was at her weakest. That she had survived the Hanahaki long enough to make it back to Linkon—and now, was seemingly thriving—was a testament to her will.

“You made the right call, sweetie,” he said to no one in particular, his voice low but approving.

Mephisto fluttered its wings, a sound like the shifting of gears, and Sylus gave the crow a nod of approval. He was satisfied with what he saw. Y/N had her path now, and though Sylus knew better than to interfere too much in her affairs, he couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pride at her recovery.

“Keep an eye on her, Mephisto,” he muttered, his voice turning sharp again. “But let her be. She’s strong enough to handle things from here.”

The mechanical crow clicked in acknowledgment before it took off into the air, disappearing through one of the many grates in the ceiling, off to continue its watch from the shadows. Sylus watched it go, the flicker of a smile lingering on his lips.

Y/N would be fine. She had her own battles to fight now, and with Zayne by her side, she had a chance. That was all Sylus could have hoped for.

With a quiet sigh, he stood up and headed toward the doorway, his boots echoing against the metal floor. There were other things to handle in N109, but for now, knowing that Y/N was on her way to healing—both from the flowers and from the tangled feelings that had plagued her—was enough to put his mind at ease.

As Sylus watched Mephisto disappear through the grate, the flicker of satisfaction from Y/N’s recovery still lingering, a sudden tightness gripped his chest. It wasn’t the usual tension from a long day in the shadows of N109—it was sharper, more visceral. His brows furrowed, and before he could fully process the sensation, a sharp cough escaped his throat.

He doubled over slightly, hand instinctively rising to his mouth. For a moment, the metallic taste of blood made him grimace, but as he pulled his hand away, what caught his attention was the small, delicate object that had landed on his palm.

A petal.

The sight of it made Sylus freeze. He stared at the soft, pastel pink petal—a contrast to the dim, metallic world around him. His eyes narrowed, his mind racing. The Hanahaki Disease. He’d seen its ravages before, watched Y/N suffer under its grasp. But this? His own symptoms? He couldn’t quite believe it.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, tossing the petal onto his desk. The sharp throb in his chest hadn’t fully subsided, but it wasn’t the same as what he had witnessed in Y/N. There was no choking on thorns or overwhelming floral invasion. This was... different. A strain less aggressive, yet unmistakable in its cause.

Hanahaki. Unrequited love.

Sylus let out a low, humorless chuckle, his crimson eyes darkening as the realization hit him. He was no stranger to matters of the heart, but he’d always kept those feelings locked away, never giving them enough room to grow—or so he thought. This was proof that something had taken root, something he couldn’t deny anymore.

And there was only one person who came to mind.

Y/N.

He didn’t need to ask himself why. Seeing her leave, watching her struggle to fight the same disease, knowing he couldn’t do more than offer her shelter and assistance—it had stirred something in him. A feeling he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge. He had helped her out of concern, out of duty, out of their connection—but there had been something more.

The petal on his desk was proof of that.

Sylus stared at the petal on his desk, its delicate form unmistakably belonging to a lily. The pristine white hue stood out starkly against the gritty backdrop of his desk, a contrast that was almost mocking. Of course, it had to be lilies—symbolic of purity and renewal, the very antithesis of his hardened existence in N109. He couldn’t help but scoff at the irony.

Lilies.

He picked up the petal between his fingers, turning it over as he examined it closer. Unlike the thorn-covered roses Y/N had been coughing up, these petals were smooth, soft, and almost harmless in comparison. But he knew better. They were far from benign.

The fact that he was coughing up lilies of all things wasn’t lost on him. They represented something gentle, something almost... fragile. But Sylus was anything but fragile, and yet, here he was, entangled in the same affliction that had nearly destroyed Y/N. He sighed, tossing the petal back on the desk, watching it flutter down like a weightless reminder of what had been growing inside him.

And now, there was no denying the truth—he had feelings for her. Feelings that he had buried so deep they’d only surfaced now, in this frustrating, blooming form. Unlike Y/N’s roses, his strain wasn’t lethal, but that didn’t make it any less concerning. He wouldn’t let it get worse. He refused to be bound by something as foolish as unspoken love.

He glanced at his comm device again, fingers hovering over the screen before he pressed down, confirming the appointment with Dr. Maren for the next day. He wouldn’t let this linger, not like Y/N had. Sylus didn’t like loose ends, and this, now that he knew, was a loose end he intended to tie up.

But the thought of Y/N remained in his mind as he sat there, the image of her recovery still fresh. She was doing better. The flowers inside her were beginning to wither, a hopeful sign that her heart was healing. That gave him some measure of relief, knowing she was on a path that might lead to happiness—whether it involved him or not.

As for him... Sylus wasn’t sure where this would end. He wasn’t the type to dwell on love or let emotions cloud his judgment. But the lilies said otherwise. They were there, quietly blooming inside him, pushing him toward feelings he hadn’t intended to face.

“Well,” he muttered to himself, standing up from his desk, “I guess we’ll see how this plays out.”

The mechanical whir of Mephisto’s wings echoed faintly in the background as the crow returned from its surveillance, landing quietly on its perch. Sylus spared it a glance, giving the bird a small nod. There was always work to do, but for now, he had to focus on his next move.

Tomorrow, he'll see the doctor. And then, maybe—just maybe—he’d figure out what to do about the lilies. 

Sylus exhaled deeply, the weight of this new revelation pressing down on him. He couldn’t afford to let this disease grow. It wasn’t as severe as Y/N’s strain—he was lucky in that sense—but the fact that he had symptoms at all meant it could worsen if left unchecked.

He reached for his comm device, his fingers moving with purpose as he scrolled through his contacts. He needed answers, and he knew exactly who to call.

“Dr. Maren,” Sylus said as soon as the connection clicked. “I need to schedule a check-up. Something’s come up.”

There was a brief pause on the other end before Maren responded, the voice calm but attentive. “Sylus? I thought your plan to draw Y/N to Linkon worked. What’s the issue?”

Sylus leaned back in his chair, glancing at the petal again before he spoke. “It’s me. But it’s a mild strain.”

Another silence, this one longer, before Maren’s voice returned, more serious this time. “That’s not something to take lightly, even if it’s a mild case. How long have you had symptoms?”

Sylus closed his eyes, recalling the subtle tightness that had been plaguing him over the past few weeks. It hadn’t been enough to alarm him, but now it all made sense. “Not long. It’s manageable for now. But I need to know what we’re dealing with.”

“I’ll fit you in tomorrow,” Maren replied swiftly. “Come to the clinic. We’ll run some tests.”

Sylus nodded to himself, feeling the weight of his situation sink in. “I’ll be there.”

He ended the call and leaned forward, hands steepling under his chin as he stared at the petal once more. It was a strange irony, being caught by the same disease that had nearly claimed Y/N. But there was no time for self-pity. He was pragmatic by nature—he would handle it like everything else in his life: methodically, without hesitation. 

Still, the realization that his feelings for Y/N had manifested into something so tangible made him pause. He had always kept his emotions buried, hidden under layers of cynicism and practicality. Now, those feelings were blooming—literally—whether he liked it or not.

A slow, grim smile crept onto his lips as he muttered to himself, “How funny.”

The next day would bring answers. But for now, Sylus remained where he was, staring at the petal on his desk, caught between amusement and resignation. His finger runs on his temple, looming over his crimson eye. 

At least he wasn’t dying. And if he would have to take the surgery, it didn’t matter. He would always remember you. Because your connection knows no physical bounds. You’re always connected. The string of fate connecting the two of you cannot be cut that easily.

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. reblogs and comments are also greatly appreciated. thank you.

[saetiate]

WELCOME TO CORA AND AVE'S FORTUNE TELLING BOOTH

❥ get a love reading! this valentines, cora @saetiate and ave @venustrvck are taking requests! event status: closed

send in: a character + one or more tarot cards (listed tropes) from below + sfw/nsfw preference + any other details! extra love heart! you can also send a kink from below the cut too. received requests here

you'll receive: a short drabble/fic based on your request :)

fandoms: blue lock, naruto, one piece, honkai star rail, genshin, love and deepspace

queer character hcs/reader and polyamory welcome too! please specify gender neutral/fem/masc/trans reader. no specifications will default to fem or gender neutral reader. this event is (n)sfw and dark content friendly!

example req 1: "hi! can I get a sae x f!reader, with the lovers - mutual pining? please and thank you!!" example req 2: "can i have oliver aiku x gender neutral reader with strength: arguments and add petplay please?"

PICK A TAROT CARD BELOW

❥ the fool: innocence, playfulness, recklessness; blind date, games, pick up lines, childhood friends to lovers

❥ the magician: transformation, beginnings, good omen; first meeting, meet/cute, meet/ugly, artist and model

❥ the high priestess: magic, dreams, knowledge; dream sharing, fortune telling, magic au

❥ the empress: passion, nurturing, fertility; motherhood, pregnancy, children with your f/os

❥ the emperor: authority, discipline, stubbornness; royalty au, power play, enemies to lovers

❥ the hierophant: community, learning, rituals; domestic life, university au, family traditions, religious observances (e.g. christmas, pouring sake for ancestors, tying the mangalasutra)

❥ the lovers: love, harmony, mutual attraction; soulmate au, confessions, mutual pining, first kiss

❥ the chariot: travel, action, ambition airport meeting, work-related au, summer/vacation fling, ceo au

❥ strength: courage, overcoming obstacles, urges; arguments, forced proximity, conflict resolution, proposal

❥ the hermit: solitude, withdrawal, introspection; hurt/comfort, unrequited pining, awkward flirting

❥ wheel of fortune: optimism, success, luck; chance/fated meeting, koi no yokan (knowing you will fall in love with someone), matchmaking

❥ justice: karma, honesty, decisions; returning a favor, relationship talk (e.g. talking about moving in together), mistaken identity

❥ the hanged man: suspension, potential, indecision; trust issues, infidelity, caught between two f /os, asked out as a bet/dare

❥ death: destruction, change, new beginnings; lost love, break up to make up, exes, grief and mourning

❥ temperance: communication, healing, moderation; comfort, wound-tending, drunken confessions

❥ the devil: desire, lust, temptation,; incest, any smut (see list of kinks below), omegaverse, supernatural elements

❥ the tower: drama, catastrophe, pride; hate sex, best friend's sibling, miscommuniation, yandere

❥ the star: renewal, hope, rest; easy love, at peace, coming home, first love

❥ the moon: emotion, fantasy, confusion; friends with benefits, late night/pillow talk, fantasy au, defining the relationship

❥ the sun: joy, friendship, prosperity; friends to lovers, fluff, love realization, praise kink

❥ judgement: awakening, resurrection, absolution; fake relationship, second chances, arranged marriage

❥ the world: fulfillment, experience, completion; marriage, growing old, aftercare

if you'd like, you can add or request a kink from this list: oral f!receiving, orgasm denial, body worship. 69, vanilla and sweet, omegaverse, size kink, lingerie, aphrodisiac, threesome, dirty talk, cockwarming, yandere, overstimulation, aftercare, face sitting, fingering, praise kink

get your love reading now! inbox either ave or cora with your req!

extra info

you can add dealer's choice at any point and we'll decide for you <3

you can send any req to either of us! blue lock can go to either of us, and by default it would be better to send one piece asks to ave and genshin+hsr+lads asks to cora, but we'll both receive them either way and make sure to get yours written :)

if you've already sent a req to either of us before, feel free to send it through again under this event

all drabbles will be a written collaboration by us <3 don't worry, we're very good friends and have been for years! cora specializes in dialogue and ave specializes in beautiful imagery and emotion-charged scenes, so it should be the best of all worlds

we reserve the right to deny any req we're not comfy w, we don't think this will happen but just in case!!

[bewitchedfeathers]

I Can Be Good - Hamm/erhound Sneeze Kink Fic

Jayce's allergies are bothering him but Vander seems surprisingly relaxed about all his sneezing. Dominance/Submission - mostly praise kink related.

PLEASE ONLY REBLOG TO KINK RELATED BLOGS

-----

Jayce rubbed his nose again, feeling his nostrils twitch against his fingers. He wasn't sure what was bothering him at The Last Drop when the only thing he was allergic to was dogs. But the last thing he wanted to do was be a gross allergic mess in front of Vander. He'd had a crush on the man since he first laid eyes on him and hearing his voice had only sealed the deal. He was pretty sure his feelings were unrequited but he couldn't stop coming to The Last Drop even if it was just to bathe in Vander's attention for a few hours.

Vander was friendly and seemed to enjoy chatting with him well enough. So even on busy nights he still made a little time to talk to Jayce when he could, and that was more than enough to keep him coming back.

He sipped his drink and scrubbed at his nose with the edge of his sleeve. Vander reappeared across the bar having finished with another customer. Jayce immediately dropped his wrist away from his nose and smiled but he could feel the itch getting worse.

“You alright there, lad?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. Snf! How are you doing?” He tried to quickly deflect and judging by Vander's raised brow his clumsy attempt hadn't gone unnoticed but he didn't call him out.

“Restless tonight. Might clock out early when it slows down, let Sal hold down the fort.”

“Oh? Gonn-ahhh snfsnf go do something fun?” He rubbed a knuckle against his septum as his nostrils trembled with irritation.

“Might stick around for a drink.”

Jayce swallowed heavily, nerves buzzing. “Would you, um, want some company?”

Vander grinned leaning in a little closer. “Wouldn't mind if you'd like to join me lad.”

Jayce felt a rush like he'd just drank champagne nervous and lightheaded and fizzy with excitement. Unfortunately his nose had finally had enough. “HIH’IEZSHMPHH…Hh’Hih’IGDZSH-MPHhh…” he managed to catch both sneezes in his elbow but even muffled they were loud and shook him on his barstool. A few nearby patrons looked over at the disturbance.

He looked back up at Vander with his cheeks burning. “Sorry. Excuse me. I um I’d like that.”

“Bless you. You've got quite the sneeze there, boy.”

Jayce felt his cheeks grow even hotter at the comment. “Sorry, I know they're obnoxious.”

“Hey, no, I didn't mean it like that, lad,” Vander said apologetically. He reached out a placed a hand on Jayce's arm. “Just seems like something’s bothering you is all. You fighting a cold?”

Jayce felt syrupy warmth spread from where Vander's large hand cupped his arm paired with an expression of soft concern.

“No…um no just a-hah tickle,” he pressed a finger under his nose, rubbing his nostrils to try to get the itch to ease but his touch set him off instead and he sneezed into his palm.

“Hh…suh-sorry gonna-Hah’AAIISHHMPHH…HH’IGZSHmphh…shit. Sorry. I promise I was fine before I got here. I thi-hink it might be my ah-allergies.” He couldn't stop his breath from wavering as he talked, eyes starting to water from the persistent tickle which had only worsened since Vander had come over.

Vander didn't flinch away at his sneezing, rubbing circles with his thumb on the arm Jayce wasn't using to catch his sneezes. “Bless you, lad. What are you allergic to?”

“Snfff! Just dogs, so I'm not sure what could be…hhhh-SNF setting mbe off ind here.” He winced as congestion built up enough to affect his speech. He sniffled repeatedly to clear it.

Then he noticed Vander's wince. “Ah, I was…around some dogs earlier. Probably what's setting you off. Sorry about that Jayce. I'll keep away from you tonight.”

“No!” He blurted out and then flushed but gamely continued, “Um I mean you don't have to. Snf. But obviously I'm kind of gross like this so I would totally understand if you SNF didn’t want to be around me when I’m-“

Vander cut him off gently, “Jayce, I don’t mind, I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

”Snfsnf. It’s really ndot that bad. Just a little ih-itchy. Hhhh…” He rubbed his nose with two fingers, pressing hard against his septum as his nostrils flared. “Sorry, gonna…hah…sndeeze…Hehhhh’EISSHHHuee…Hh’HUH’IGZTZSHHH…ngh…” His attempted stifle just made his sinuses ache and barely reduced the racket he was making. He looked up at Vander with watery apologetic eyes.

“Bless you, lad.” He said, voice low and warm. He stepped away and Jayce deflated. It just figures the first time he might get to spend time with Vander when he’s not working his allergies would crop up and ruin things.

“Sal, take over for me would ya? I’m headed upstairs for the night.”

”You got it, Vander.” The other man at the back of the bar responded moving to the front as Vander stepped out from behind the bar and came around to Jayce’s side.

Jayce looked at Vander in confusion as Vander set a hand on his shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze. “C’mon upstairs with me. If neither of us mind your sneezing then your still welcome to join me for a drink if you’d like.”

”Yes,” he said eagerly, visibly perking up despite needing to sniffle more frequently with Vander this close. “I’d really like that.” Vander grinned at Jayce’s endearing enthusiasm and shifted his hand to Jayce’s lower back guiding him off his barstool and up a stair case in the back corner of the bar. Vander’s large hand felt like a furnace against him and he felt a corresponding heat in his belly at how big Vander’s hand felt, and how small and safe it made him feel in response. He’d never met anyone else who dwarfed him like Vander did.

They got to the top of the stairs and Jayce had to pause as the increased proximity set off the tickle in his nose again.

“Suh-sorry just a seh-Heh’HEISSHHew,,,Hhhhhhh’IESSHHHuhh…” He sneezed against his shoulder away from Vander just barely containing the spray against his jacket, Vander’s hand jolting with the movement as Jayce shook with the strength of it. He brought up his wrist snuffling against his jacket cuff as he dabbed at his damp nostrils. He wished he’d thought to bring a handkerchief.

“Bless you, lad. It’s alright. You don’t need to apologize,” he soothed, rubbing his hand in a few loose circles against Jayce’s back.

“Thandks. Sndff!”

Vander finished guiding him inside and then told him to have a seat on the couch. Jayce sat down looking around the apartment taking in knicknacks and a few books. Vander returned a few minutes later with two glasses of amber colored liquid and a bandana. He set the glasses on the battered low table in front of the couch and offered the bandana to Jayce.

”For your nose.”

”Thandks, Vander,” he murmured shyly. Vander just gave a nod of acknowledgement as he picked up his drink. Jayce’s cheeks flushed as he turned away to try to blow his nose as quietly as possible. He knew he would only get worse the longer he was around whatever dog hair and dander was all over Vander but he hoped he’d have a chance to talk and share a drink before it got too bad. He didn’t want to completely embarrass himself tonight even if Vander was being really kind about it.

Jayce set the makeshift handkerchief on his thigh, unfortunately aware that he would need it again soon, and picked up his own drink. He gave a surprised hum at how smooth it was, rich and carmely and a little smokey. It certainly wasn’t the quality of drink he was used to, even with his patron being a Kirramen mostly he’d had wine and champagne.

“This is really good,” he complimented. Vander grinned looking pleased, he settled into the couch a little more arm across the back of it, fingers just brushing the fine hairs on the back of Jayce’s neck and sending an electric shiver down his spine.

”I’m glad you like it, lad. Not often I get a chance to pull out something to savor.”

”I’m glad to give you the excuse.”

”Well it’s a bit of a special occassion isn’t it?”

”Oc-occassion?” He asked unable to look away from Vander’s confident gaze until his allergy ridden nose made itself known again and he whipped his head to the side sneezing down across the couch cushions. “Huh’ERSSSHHuhh…Hh’hh’IESSHHHeww…god excuse me. Sorry about that.” He could feel the tips of his ears were hot as he turned back to Vander. But the intensity of his gaze hadn’t dimmed in the least.

”Well it’s not everyday I get to bring a pretty boy like you home,” Vander practically purred flirtaciously, large calloused fingers brushing over the back of his neck and over his closely trimmed fade. Jayce blushed all the way to his hairline even as his heart skipped a beat.

“You…you want me?”

”Every bloody person in the bar downstairs wanted you, boy. I’m just apparently a very lucky bastard.”

”But you’re…you’re so strong and confident and handsome, you could have an-anyone. Snf!” Vander laughed but he sounded pleased and his hand cupped the back of his neck, gently scruffing him.

“Hm, well I want you Jayce.”

”Oh…” he said with breathless wonderment.

”Set down your glass,” he instructed softly and Jayce barely managed not to slam it down on the table in eagerness. Vander smiled again like he was fondly amused.

”Now sit on my lap, sweetheart.”

Jayce felt like his stomach was filled with butterflies at the petname, he liked that. He threw a leg over Vander’s lap and sat down across his thighs, his legs had to stretch obscenely wide to do so and he felt heat pool between his legs at how big Vander was.

“Good boy.”

Jayce sucked in breath at the praise that sent a wave of pleasure through him.

”Is that what you want, Jayce? To be my good boy?”

”Yes, please, I want to be..hh…good for you,” he winced scrubbing roughly at his nose when his breath wavered. Vander reached up and pulled his hand away. “Vander…? Hhh…” He asked confused.

”Relax, pet. I told you I wasn’t bothered by your sneezing. You don’t need to worry about it or hurt yourself trying to control your nose.”

”I…hh..don’t want to hh’hh sneeze on you,” he admitted with a guilty embarrassed grimace.

“It’s fine if you do. I’ve certainly been covered in worse,” he said with an amused quirk to his lips. But his expression softened when he saw Jayce still tense with anxiety. He returned his hand to back of Jayce’s neck giving it a squeeze. “I promise if you do something that bothers me I’ll tell you. I want you to relax. Trust me.” Jayce’s nostrils flared wide and he couldn’t turn away with Vander’s hand keeping his head there so he sneezed across Vander’s chest.

”Hhhhh’hh’HEISSHHHeww…Hhh’hh’EGSSHHuue…Snffff…scuse mbe.” Jayce looked Vander over closely but Vander was relaxed, wearing a pleased smile.

”Bless you, sweetheart. That’s right, just relax and sneeze if you need to.” He punctuated his praise by trailed one large hand up Jayce’s thigh and cupping his hardness. Jayce’s eyes fluttered shut as he moaned, hips bucking up into his touch.

”You really…you really duhhhh-dond’t mbind?” He asked shyly as his breath wavered again. He wanted to keep going. Wanted Vander so badly. But it was hard to believe that he wasn’t going to ruin by being so disgusting.

Vander nudged his hips upward, hardness pressing against Jayce. “Does it feel like I mind, pup?” He purred. And Jayce whined at the feeling of Vander’s desire. He wanted so badly to please Vander, to make him feel good.

“Ndo. What do y-you Huhhh…hh’hhh’HEISSHHew…hh’EGSHHuhhh…” Vander tugged him down into another kiss, hungry for the sweet sneezy boy in his lap. The way his shirt was just starting to grow damp from Jayce’s sneezes had his cock throbbing in his pants. Jayce moaned against his lips and Vander swallowed down the sound as he stroked Jayce.

”Put your hands behind your back and keep them there. Can you do that for me, pup?” Jayce put his hands behind his back with a slight pout to his lips.

“But I wanna touch you..” Vander chuckled and took Jayce’s jaw in his hand brushiing his thumb over his lower lip.

“I promise you’ll get to touch me plenty later, sweetheart.” He squeezed Jayce before continuing to stroke him, brushing his thumb over the leaking slit.

”Vander…” Jayce whined, hips rolling into his fist for more friction. Vander stopped moving and Jayce’s eyes flew open with a whimper.

“You’ll take what pleasure I give you, pup.” Jayce shivered at the nickname, something about the way Vander said it, a mix of patronizing and affectionate lit a fire in his veins. ”So you’ll keep your hips still for me won’t you?”

”Yes. SNF. I can be—I can be good.” Vander smirked at how desperate Jayce sounded already.

“That’s right. My good boy.” Jayce moaned again, head falling back with a shudder but he managed to keep his hips still. Vander rewarded him by starting up his hand again in smooth steady strokes on Jayce’s cock.

“Hhh…ngh have to sndeeze againd…hh..Huh…” Jayce wrinkled his nose, trying to lever out his breathing but the tickle he’d been ignoring had only been getting worse the longer he was so close to Vander. He was torn between the pleasure of Vander’s hand on him and the allergic tickle in his nose.

“I’ve got ya,” Vander murmured as he tugged Jayce closer and guided his head down to his shoulder, nose nestled against the loose collar of his shirt. All the while his hand kept moving on Jayce’s cock. “Just relax, sweetheart.”

The tickle was only worse pressed close like this and Jayce’s chest heaved with a sharp inhale before he sneezed messily against Vander’s shoulder.

”HHHHUH’ERSSSHHmphhh…Hhh’IGSHHmphhh…heh’Eh’EISSHHmpphh…hh…Snfff…” He whined rubbing his itchy nose against Vander’s shoulder and the older man pet through his hair with a low hum of pleasure. “Bless you, sweet boy. You’re being so good for me.” Jayce tried to keep his hips still, desperately wanting Vander to move faster instead of the teasing pace he’d set, but the pleasure was still slowly building with Vander’s firm grip.

”Hhh…hah-have to…have to…Hah’AISSHHeww…Hh’hh’IGZSHHmphh… Ih-hih…it itches…”

”Bless you, pup. You're so allergic, poor thing.”

”Hih…hhh…”

Vander’s hand started to move a little faster and Jayce shook and moaned, hips twitching forward without his permission. Vander’s hand fell still.

“Please. Please I’m sorry. Hh’hh…Don’t stop. Please don’t…hh…don’t stop.”

“Can you be good for me this time, and keep your hips still, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, yes. I'll huhh-hh…I'll be good.” Vander began stroking again and Jayce gripped his own wrist tight and pressed his head back against Vander's shoulder breathing heavily.

“There we go. Good boy.” Jayce whimpered and shivered but his hips stayed still. And then he drew in a deep wavering inhale, nostrils flaring against Vander's shirt.

“Hhhhhh’EIGSSHHHmphh…hh’huh’IZZSHmphh…hah-have to sndeeze…ah-againd…”

“Bless you, lad. That's alright.”

“Hhh’ITZSHHuh…oh I'mb…I'mb close…”

“You wanna come, pup?”

“Yes. Please let mbe combe, Vander.”

“Go ahead, sweetheart. You did so well for me.”

Jayce moaned, eyes rolling up into his head as his back bowed and he came into Vander's fist. Vander stroked him through it. “Good boy. So good for me, Jayce.”

“Hhh’IGSHHHmphh…hh’TSSHHMPH…ugh, snfff, sorry. Scuse mbe.”

Jayce collapsed against Vander utterly spent, muscles like limp noodles. Vander ran his fingers through Jayce's hair, letting him drift for a few minutes.

“Bless you, pup. Let's get you cleaned up.”

----

Thank you 5 other people into ha/mmerhound and snz. I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!!

[Snz Fanfic Masterlist]

[tickled-p1nk]

i crave endless pain (is looking for LaDs x non-mc!reader unrequited love fics)

[sometimeslwish]

Distant Echoes

I started reading @shaiyasstuff fic called wilted promises, got to the "Their distant beauty seemed almost cruel" part and my brain went "Oh, that's a great metaphor for unrequited love" although the theme on that fic wasn't that and thus this prompt was born. I had the song by VXLLAIN, VØJ and Narvent on loop, so I named this prompt that cause I think it fits. This is a prompt that can be used by anyone, my only ask is that you @ me or tell me you used it. I'd love to see your creations.

Tags: unrequited love, lads li x non mc reader, angst, I consider this to be a happy ending prompt but you can decide what it is for your story, stars as a metaphor for love and people.

You reach for the stars.

You want to hold them, want them to be yours and shine for you. You want to feel what their warmth is like.

They ripple like water under your fingers, avoiding your touch and your grasp.

They are not yours to hold.

You lean back and stare at the night sky.

It's beautiful, how they glitter and blink, each one shining in their own way. It used to make you feel hollow, back then, desperate– you wanted to hold them but couldn't. Now, there's an odd sense of peace, a calm feeling you're not quite used to yet. It's a feeling you're still grateful for, nonetheless.

You no longer crave their warmth, you've found your own.

You don't reach for them anymore.

[dollyyun]

🗂️ wip tag game! 🗂️

make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. tag as many people as you have WIPs. people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

ruby's note: thank you my beautiful kaykay @wwooyology for the tag <3 as much as i adore my current fic ideas/wip, I can't guarantee when or if these would be released because i'm obv a slow writer and writers block often get my ass, and lastly, my hyperfixation is terrible (adhd things). motivation plays a huge role too. but I do hope that these drafts would be released before the day I decide to retire from writing :3 also you are welcome to ask about any of my wip! I love yapping about my fic ideas to someone (mama aj is my victim most of the time)

WIP LIST

HYUNG LINE

one shot fics: 1-800-hot-and-fun - (reverse harem/poly, camgirl!reader) lost in the heat - (older alpha!hyung line x omega!reader; one shot, reverse harem/poly, 5 years age gap) bloody prey - (ghostface!hyung line who are also vampires, human!reader, psycho killers, yanderes) series: sector 1: the outbreak - (inspired by resident evil, dystopia-ish, horror, apocalypse, fantasy-ish element, morally grey characters, federal agents, mercenaries, and more, reverse harem) twisted games - (mafia princes!hyung line series; different tropes w reader - ex-lovers, arranged marriage element, ex-childhood best friends, fiancé’s brother, reverse harem) gods and monsters - (supernatural villains!hyung line x hunter!reader, inspired by lad otome game, hyung line characters inspired by lad male leads, reverse harem) game on, players - (ice hockey players!hyung line, reverse harem)

HEESEUNG

one shot fics: i wish i hated you - (ex-lovers to strangers to lovers, fake dating, angst) 2 hands - (f1racer!heeseung x popstar!reader, long distance relationship kinda but they’re on a break, angst) my undercover lover - (hitman!heeseung x sweet girlfriend!reader, soft love kinda, angst) hush - (older brother’s best friend, one-sided love-ish, light angst) sweetheart - (dad’s best friend, heeseung is 39 and reader is 21, soft love) you're losing me - (arranged marriage, husband!heeseung, heavy angst)

JAY

one shot fics: call it what you want - (older sugar daddy!jay; strangers to lovers, 12 years age gap, jay’s a huge simp and a loverboy) close to you - (underground fighter!jay x highschool teacher!reader, single dad!jay, 5 years age gap, angst) better man - (hitman!jay, ex-lovers to strangers to lovers, secret child trope, angst) into you - (bodyguard!jay x mafia princess!reader, strangers to lovers, grumpy x sunshine)

JAKE

one shot fics: hopelessly yours - (ice hockey player!jake x ice hockey player!reader; rivals-enemies to lovers, next-door neighbours, angst) supernatural - (husband!jake, arranged marriage but they get along well, soft love, fluffs, green flag jake) dangerous woman (hitman!jake x agent!reader, golden retriever x black cat, jake is a huge simp for grumpy-nonchalant reader)

SUNGHOON

one shot fics: right where you left me - (hitman!sunghoon; ex lovers to strangers to lovers, angst) down bad - (best friend’s older brother!sunghoon, cold grumpy x wild sunshine, angst)

JUNGWON

one shot fics: stuck with you - (best friends to lovers, unrequited love kinda) babydoll - (street racer!jungwon x shy good girl!reader, semi-college au)

MAKNAE LIKE

series: devil’s knights’ game - (spinoff, poly/reverse harem)

OT7

series: the heirs - (ootg revamped) eternal curse - (revamped)

tagging: anyone who wants to join <3

[lazylattedgleam]

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LOST AMONG THE PAGES

(A Zayne x NONMC!Reader fic)

(Word count: ~3.4k)

(Credits: All images from the net. Except for the color editing and brush strokes and writing are made by me.)

(Credits: Pinterest)

*TW: Angst, maybe not well written, NON!MC Reader, Reader has Anemia, heavy blood loss during periods, fights, shouting, feeling of betrayal and heartbreak, shaking, crying, unrequited love.

*Index: Reader speeches are white, bold and italicised.

Zayne speeches are blue, bold and italicised.

MC speeches are pink, bold and italicised.

Others are white and just italicised.

Thoughts are written inside single inverted commas and italicised, sometimes struck through.

Texts and chats have ‘Indented’ font.

Calls have double inverted commas, white and italicised. They are differentiated from other speeches. (Except for main characters like MC and Zayne, they will follow their color code as mentioned earlier and italicised.)

Actions are written inside asterisks, white and bold.

Diary entries have ‘Chat’ font.

If you’re uncomfortable with the following genre or any of the trigger warnings, then please don’t read ahead.

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“His love for her was as pure as the flower Jasmine herself…”

Memoir: Three. Ending

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(Credits: The Feels)

Time…12:23 a.m.

Date: 06/XX/2048

Day: Saturday

Dear diary,

I rarely do write these days, my mind is too much consumed by the void of my thoughts and feelings…my thoughts filled with them..them and them…work has been fine, sales going good, yet everything feels too gloomy…I do make him lunch everyday, barring the days they go out to eat, it hasn’t increased, but my soul feels like it did…we don’t text much, just few ‘Hi’ and ‘Hellos’, here and there…and sometimes he checks up on me over text or call…I think Zayne too has figured out I’m in need of space maybe that’s why he hasn’t once visited me in over two weeks…Although I look at their Moments posts, I didn’t know Zayne had that app…they seem happy, just like their pictures do…

Yesterday was at the park…

Few days ago at Destiny Cafe…

Couple days before that by the Lakeside…

Azure Square…

My eyes hurt watching them…it feels like I’m developing a new variant of iritis…

Fun fact: he fails to tell me that he’s going out, everytime…either I get to know it from Yvonne, or MC, or from the Moments posts…So I’ve stopped caring the need to know…if they tell me, I just hum along and let go.

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Time…02:38 a.m.

Date: 13/XX/2048

Day: Friday

Dear diary,

I don’t feel like writing anymore, not even twice in two weeks…what happened to me? He rarely calls, all I get are mostly texts, that is also if I’m lucky enough…I’m dying to talk to him, would he even remember it’s our anniversary next week? Or maybe they have plans…

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(Credits: The Feels)

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PRESENTLY:

Next week arrives way quicker than I ever wanted it to, every day feels like a blur recently, like I can barely remember the tasks I’ve performed…It’s our anniversary day…I will go to the hospital and drop off a flower bouquet to him in his office…

…I had a special lunch prepared for him,

‘Dice beef, rice, roast meat sauce, broccoli and white broccoli, crispy fried shredded onions, and tamagoyaki’, I’d learnt during the early stages of our relationship. It was always my plan to make our first anniversary very special, filling him with surprises…I place a six packed box of coconut macarons on the side each had a tiny milk chocolate snowman on them: orange juice, and like usual a handwritten note…within a heart shaped card. I then head out to our shop, picking out a freshly custom made jasmine-bouquet, as I add a card to it, ‘Happy 1st Year’, maybe if I wasn’t dull from the inside I’d have been more creative…

“Soooo a whole year huh?” “Mhm”, I smile softly as I pay after I was done.

…Upon reaching the hospital I was immediately greeted by Yvonne and Dr. Greyson. “Happy 1 year anniversary! Congratulations to the both of you!”, she says excitedly, hugging me. I hug back. “Congratulations”, Dr. Greyson nods as I smile at both of them, “Thank you very much you two.” “Dr. Zayne is free right now, plus it is lunch time so yeah.” “Thanks a lot Y, I’ll be off then.” “Okay! Do tell me your plans for tonight later!” “Will do!”.

Taking a deep breath in I knock on his door… “Come in”, I hear his voice, it sounded softer than usual…could he have been expecting me? I take a deep breath in as I walk inside…

“Happy 1 year (Name)!”…of course she is here…I regain my posture as I smile at her, it’s forced… “Thank you very much.” “I’ve been so excited for today, I mean Zayne, a year with someone! Now that’s a milestone!”, she jokes and laughs… “oh! I’ll go out now, you two talk…do tell me your plans for the night later bye guys!”, as she leaves…

I feel a strange sense of satisfaction and comfort at that…but the main thing still remains…Zayne…it’s been very awkward over these weeks, and ever since all that happened…I don’t know how to approach him…

I take in a breath as I walk to his table, handing out the bouquet to him…as I placed the lunch box on his table, I smile… “Happy Anniversary…”, I want to say more, pour out my heart but I don’t… He stares at the gift, soon opening his lunch, I could see a tiny glimmer in his eyes…I made him his favourite after all… “Thank you…”, he says with the similar softness he holds out for her…my heart skips a beat…but then again…it’s compulsion…

“Happy Anniversary…(Name)…”

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…Maybe I still have hopes and dreams…I reach his pace, my mind at a pseudo-peaceful state for the time being…I want tonight to be ours just ours…I want to make it perfect…so perfect perfect perfect…I work hard…pacing around his living room space decorating, minutely adjusting each and every piece, so that there remains no fault…

I fill the room with golden fairy lights, some over the front door, his bedroom and hung over the mould of the balcony. Next I decorate the gaps in between with small thick bunches of Jasmines, some beside the table and chairs too, arranged in a pattern…now all I need to do is wait for his arrival for the last minute touch ups…

…The clock strikes 11:00 p.m. The lights turned off, the room illuminated by the fairy lights. Keeping the balcony door open, as a gentle soft breeze came in through greeting my features…

I’m wearing my best dress for him…it was a navy blue tube top with intricate white snowfalls patterns delicately lacing around the waist and bust area—custom made…a silver necklace with an elegant cursive ‘Z’ locket, matching silver earrings and a bracelet—custom made…maroon lip gloss, mascara and my hair let down.

The door opens, as I catch a glance of him enter…he looks too good to be true…He stares for a while… “I’ll be out after changing…” “Will you want to have dinner first?” “Yes.”.

While he goes to freshen up, I prepare the table, placing neatly each item around the table…I had starters, main course, dessert and drinks. As I light up the candle placed at the centre of the table, making sure no wind blows it out, but thankfully luck was on my side, the wind was just a gentle summer breeze… Beside the candle was a bucket with ice and a bottle of champagne, now I know he’s a lightweight and he doesn’t prefer drinking…but it’s our anniversary, I want it to be the best…

He came out after a while wearing -his nightly rendezvous outfit-, my breath hitches…I want to compliment him but what if it becomes awkward…my gestures and thoughts went back to how it used to be like at the beginning of our relationship…maybe time is a loop…

As we sit down to eat, he gets my chair put like the gentleman he is and then himself sits…Having his favorite cuisine on the table, maybe I thought he’d smile…but he didn’t…

“Champagne?” “It’s our anniversary after all, a couple glasses wouldn’t hurt.”, I chuckle hoping he’d too…but he didn’t…

He’s sending me mixed signals…which I neither comprehend nor interpret…atleast he’s here…that’s all that matters now…a part of me couldn’t wait to write about tonight in my diary again…

…we eat quietly, not much words are uttered, except for the occasional, like for passing items or ‘the food is good.’, my mind wanders back to the times before her, as I analyse them, was he always cold to me too? I used to believe that was how he showed affection, was I wrong?

I pour myself a glass and drink it…he didn’t say anything…I was a lightweight too…but he didn’t know…and another…and another…and another…

My inhibitions lowered but I still had my senses to myself…placing the glass down, I chuckle a bit…

“Not even a ‘you look beautiful tonight’??? Dr. Zayne now that’s straight up meeeeeaaaannnn! *hic* I set up soooooo much ‘fff you, dressed up ffff youuuu, surprises surprises surprises! Even made and got your favorites! But nothinggggggg!”, I pout as I slur… “Whyyyy Zayne whyyyy is it because I’m not herrrrr???? I knowwww I’m not pretty like her orrrr successful like herrrrr or know you from Adam like her! But hell I’ve been good!! I’ve done so much for you! And you don’t even giveee me minimum gratitude! That’s meeeean”, I giggle as I pace around the room…

“Please sit down you’re drunk.” “Shhhhhhhhh I speak todayyyy, I’ve been holding backkkk for tooo longggg!”, I press my finger on his lips. “These are soooo soft and plum…I was anxious whether you’d at all kisssss me toniiiightttrr! How many timesss have we evennn kisssed in our relationship?? Even forehead and cheek kisses have ceased to exist…What haveee I done wrong Zaynie??? Alll I ever yearned for is you, your affectionnn and your loveee… you know my past, my desperations, my heart, then why…why…”, my voice cracks, my eyes filling with water, becoming hazy… “I *hic* gave you a Jasmine bouquet today…you didn’t say much…at least you accepted *I giggle* they’re your favoritessss I knowwwwwww…they symbolise purityyy, looove and afftection, did you know? Of course you did…that’s what I feel forrr yewwww!” I sloppily poke at his chest with my index finger…

“I’m barely drunk…did you know I was a lightweight…? Do you know my favorite flowers or my favorite colour! No you don’t! You barely ever ask! It’s always me me me! I think of you more often than I breathe! And you don’t—” “I want the old Zayne back…I saw how you watch her…how your eyes light up…how your face embraces colours…because those are all the ways I act around you! Have you ever noticed!?”, as I sob heavily…

He was left speechless, I could see his hands clench… “You’re so much wiser than me…tell me Zayne is it all in my head?? Do you never see how I always beg for footnotes in the story of your life?! Tell me…do you…only Tolerate Me…?”, my body begs to be wrapped up in his arms…but that is just wishful thinking…

As I was a mess on the floor, he was still there…I wanted to leave, I wanted to stay…I wanna walk but I can’t, my body is shaking convulsively…

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That was all I could remember, before I passed out…the next morning, I wake up in a comfortable bed…as my inhibitions come back to me…it’s his bed…

He was getting ready to go to the hospital, my head is a mess… “You should rest…I’ll get you some painkillers—” “You’re a wonderful man.”, as I get up on my own, barely…and go to the bathroom to wash up…my face is a mess, makeup all smudged together…eyes puffy and red…thank god I don’t have work today…

…I reach home, my head now better having taken the pain killers from before…I should just—

Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring!

MC was calling…not now I can’t deal with it… especially not her of all people right now…so I put my phone on silent…although she keeps on calling for a few more times…I would’ve felt bad if I didn’t hold a grudge from last night, plus I was hurt and mad at him, I cannot deal with either of them now…

…I was about to take out my diary and write when I heard the buzz at the door. I groan as I walk over to open…MC…

“(Name)! Dear lord are you alright?! I called you so many times! I was worried sick!”

“I’m alright I just—”

“This is unexpected of you (Name)! How can you be so careless!? Do you know how worried I was?! How worried Zayne was!?”

That was it that was the last straw…it ticked me off fully…

“You weren’t worried about me when you took his heart away.”, I speak sharply.

“What…”

“No don’t you dare ‘what’ me! I’m tired of this hurting! Why weren’t you there when he was available when he was single! Why why why couldn’t you come then?! First of all you come into his life and he doesn’t even tell me! He tells me nothing about his childhood, and I was fine with that, it’s his privacy his choice! Then he doesn’t tell me he’s having dinner with you! I was fine with that too! Then he starts acting completely aloof! Like I don’t even exist! I’m his girlfriend dammit!”, tears prick my eyes again… “I don’t hate you MC I don’t! I think you’re a great girl and an amazing friend to both me and Zayne…but please understand…you’re so so so nice! You’re too great! You’re too amazing at everything you do! Heck you’re even more read that me! But how the hell are you are so dumb that you can’t realise the way he looks at you! He looks at you like you’re all he sees! Like you’re his elixir of life, his honey, his will to live in this messed up world, his one and only! Have you ever ever noticed that?! No right? But I have! And I’ve tried so hard to keep it in, blaming myself for overthinking but there’s a limit a limit to each one of us, and that threshold has been crossed! So please I beg you, please let my boyfriend stay mine, please just be his friend…please!”, I breathe heavily, my body shaking convulsively, as tears stream down…

She’s left speechless…just like he was last night. O could see the tears prick at her eyes too…

“I-I am sorry I never—”

“Please just please leave…”, she doesn’t speak another word and goes…

I heave a frustrated sigh…I’m too tired, I feel dizzy…

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…Later that night…

I wanted to write in my diary, but there was another buzz at the door…who’s it now…

I drag myself off the bed as I walk over then opening the door…Zayne…

He steps in, his presence carries a strong aura…he looks…his usual cold, stoic and…angry…?

“Why are you—”

“Who gave you the permission to talk to her like that?”, he utters with pure hatred in his voice…

I freeze at that…

“If that’s what you’re here for—”

“Answer.”

“Why should I Zayne? Am I answerable to you? Is it my compulsion?? But if I remember clearly you never answered to my texts whenever you’re with her. I said what I said because I’ve had enough. I put my phone on silent and she still didn’t get the hint, I had no other choice.”

“Then that’s your manners? That’s how you treat people who are genuinely worried about you and check up on you? She’s been nothing but nice to you.”

“Oh you wanna talk about manners now?! Let’s talk! Where were your manners when you didn’t even bother telling me you went out to dinner with her, or you were at the park with her, or when I poured my fucking heart out to you last night and got no fucking ass response?! Thanks for giving me the best fucking post-anniversary present by the way.”

“You’re still hung up on that.”

“Hung up?! Zayne hello? Do you need a brain doctor or another heart doctor to check if they’re functioning all well?! Do you not realise the pain, the hurt and the betrayal I went through?! Are you void of feelings for everyone except for her?! You make me wonder if you ever saw me as something valuable. I’m your fucking girlfriend Zayne! I hated having to hear from other people about my boyfriend because he wouldn’t tell me about his whereabouts! Do you know how embarrassing that feels?! Be glad they’re not gossipers or Dr. Zayne would’ve had quite the reputation by now.”, I scoff “and do you even know how many lies I have to tell often just to make you not seem like a cold hearted asshole?! But I guess for you you thought those were all my compulsions, just like yourself…I can’t believe I read into you this wrong…I’ve always cared for you, catered to your needs, tried to make myself perfect for you?! Heck I even greet you like a battle hero returning from a war, whenever you came home!! What have you done?! A nod, a word, rarely a kiss on the cheek and forehead!? Tell me Zayne, I asked you last night I’ll ask you again today! Was it all in my head? Were we a healthy couple only in my head?! Was it just me!! Or did she cast some love spell upon you and had you enamoured—”

“Watch your tone (Name)…you barely know about her…I’m her primary care physician and I know her the best, plus she’s always been with me since childhood, I cherish her…”

“Do you know how hard she works as a Hunter, wanderers everywhere…and you don’t even know about her heart’s condition…do you know she has the Protocore Syndrome, and she could, touch wood, drop dead if gone through tremendous amount of stress??? Do you even know what the Protocore Syndrome is? If you did your research you would have.”

I stand still hearing that…I’ve heard about the Protocore Syndrome, read and researched about it, heck so many people came to our shop to collect flowers for them who died from this, or they who were suffering from it! Heck I knew about it better than most!

‘It was disease caused when Protocores, that were special energy cores dropped from high-level Wanderers, negatively affecting a person's body. There are currently three types known to affect humans, and each one causes different symptoms and levels of disease progression.’

But he didn’t know that…he barely ever asked me about my day or work…whereas I…

I look up at his face, I want to scream but I don’t, there is barely a point anymore…

“Do you know that my life’s worth research is about them and how I can save my patients, how can I save from it? You say you don’t know about my childhood, well here’s a fact I will give you, I became a cardio-surgeon because of her, because she suffered from this deadly disease…because I wanted to cure her and never lose her…she is the most important person in the world to me.”

“Do you know what it’s like to have a disease like such, when you have the case of a high probability of death at any given stance if your over stressed or overworked? You should consider yourself lucky…And as her primary physician it is my duty to care the most for her, in whichever way you take it.”

That was the last straw…that broke my heart, shattering and stepping on it completely…

“Zayne…you…wow…”, I was speechless once again, but right now…I didn’t know anything it felt like I’m in a foreign place where no one knows me…I feel like a refugee of a war…

“I have Anemia Zayne…Anemia…”, I speak softly, my voice broken, eyes filled with tears once again…I could feel him stiffen, cussing under his breath, saying he’d gone too far…too far…

“I’m…I’m sorry…I…I didn’t mean to compare any disease with another, I just—”

“Maybe the next the I should just stop taking all my meds and supplements and bleed myself close to death…or maybe if I had sickle-celled anemia, with a probability of death maybe then you would’ve noticed me…if I would’ve just laid on the bed at Akso in the ER…maybe then you’ll finally notice me…”

“I know what Protocore Syndrome is Zayne…I have everyday many customers come in to collect flowers for their dear loved ones they lost or are on the verge of losing, or even for themselves…they share me their stories and I listen as my heart breaks hearing those…all I could do was give them the best of flowers and well wishes from the bottom of my heart…I know it Zayne I do…and I’m sorry…I didn’t know about MC…I’m so so sorry…I’ll apologise to her…”

“I don’t hate her…I don’t…I— *voice cracks* I just…I was hurting like anything…and it vented out like that…I’m sorry…” *I fall to the floor, crying out loud, I don’t hold back anymore…* maybe he tried to reach out for me, but I speak up before he could…

With my broken voice, my breath coming out in heavy successions… “Please just give me closure…I’m too tired…too…tired…”

He drops down and holds me tight, as I bawl to his chest…I couldn’t anymore…it feels so natural but it’s the end…I know it is…

“Please let me…have…closure…”

Maybe his voice cracked a bit too…

“I’m sorry (Name) I’m so so sorry, I couldn’t be the man who should have treated you properly…I’m sorry I should have told you earlier…I thought I was over her but I wasn’t…maybe my brain created an image of you as her, that you were her…whenever we’d sleep together, go out, or tried to kiss…all I could imagine was her face…hence I stuck to forehead and cheek kisses…I’m so so sorry…”

As I sob and sob loudly, while he kept holding me…just like that, it was over…we were over…

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(Credits: Pinterest)

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[uselessmoonlight]

Character sheet

Reader is Telemachus' friend, and when he leaves for his "diplomatic mission" he asks her to watch over his mother.

Later, once the king has returned, she stumbles upon an injured Poseidon.

series masterlist

Content specs: she/her pronouns used, afab reader, Platonic! Telemachus x reader, Epic!Poseidon x reader, possible OOC!Poseidon, Polites’ daughter! Reader, unrequited love, blood, fighting, nudity, illusion, possibly more?, trying to avoid using y/n, slowburn, suggestive themes, but no smut, English is not my first language, sorry if it's too much exposition, it's my first fic.

I’ve been introducing quite some OC’s, mainly because of the fact that this takes place after the Ithaca saga, so I thought I’d make a character sheet to help you remember the names. This will also include some basic info about the characters. I will update this sheet as the series progresses.

The reader, or Ónoma.

As I state at the top of each chapter, Ónoma means name, in Greek. I personally do not enjoy the use of y/n or ___, so this is my version of that. Her nickname, Peach, has a story behind it, that will be explored later on in the story. She’s quiet, observant, and not very trusting of others, because of what happened in her life. Girlypop is traumatised, she’s lost her entire family, and as a young girl living on her own, she’d faced quite some challenges.

Peach struggles with a bit of anxiety, and she’d quick to anger. She doesn’t really feel comfortable around men, with Telemachus being the exception, because in her mind he views her as a friend, not a potential partner. Also, she’s a bit socially awkward.

“Ctimene”

Ctimene is not an OC, but if your only knowledge of the Odessey is Epic, then you might not know who she is. Ctimene is the younger sister of Odysseus, and by extension a (former) princess of Ithaca. She is the wife of Eurylochus, and she’s supposed to live on Same, an Island near Ithaca. I changed this for the sake of the story.

Irene

Irene is my babygirl, she is a certified yapper. She’s the daughter of the Island’s main seamstress and the youngest of three girls. Irene is a happy-go-lucky social butterfly, who’ll happily shield the reader from social interaction, especially when it comes to a certain guy.

Agathe

Agathe is the eldest sister of Irene, and, of course, also the daughter of the town’s seamstress. She’s a priestess at the temple of Dionysus and very influential because of it, she can be a bit direct.

Aesop

The orchard keeper is a lovely lad. He always has a spot at his dinner table for the reader, should she wish to endure the advances of his son.

Eustachys

Eustachys is a bit of a knob. He’s very proud, and a tad misogynistic, but aside from that he’s pretty decent. He thinks that the reader shouldn’t do all the work she does and should just let a man him take care of her needs, for as far as a woman actually needs anything. While he’s very insistent, he wouldn’t cross the line on purpose.

Damianos

The vigneron (fancy word for someone who owns a vineyard). He’s in a bit of a prank war with the reader and Telemachus.

Cosmas

Cosmas was the reader’s eldest brother. When their mother passed, and their father was still at war, he took on a parental role. Maybe we’ll learn more about him.

Damian

Damian was the reader’s older brother, and Cosmas’ Irish twin. (If you don’t know, that means that they’re born in the same year, but not actually twins.)

He was a bit of a douche, as he’d been shielded by his older brother from all the hardships. Maybe we’ll learn more about him.

Kallisto

Kallisto is the name of the reader’s mum. She used to be a healer. Maybe we’ll learn more about her.

Ophelia

Irene’s older sister. The middle of three.

Theodosius

Ophelia’s husband.

Pelagius

Theodosius’ and Ophelia’s son.

Zosime

Irene’s, Ophelia’s and Agathe’s mother. Ithaca’s main seamstress and a very influential woman.

Are there easter eggs within the meaning/history of these names? Maybe.

[winterchimez]

Lip Sync | Ji Changmin

pairing: ex Changmin x f!reader

genre: angst, suggestive

warnings: influence of alcohol, making out scenes, mentions of s*x, bad breakup, cheating, unrequited love (in some way)

word count: 2,751

a/n: so.... i can explain 🤡 what made me wrote this oneshot on a whim was because of Changmin's whisper from the song itself 🫠 (delusional to the max tbh 🙃) but in all honesty this is my favourite track from their latest jp album, and i knew i had to write a fic about it!! i just hope i managed to execute it well according to the lyrics (yall i tried my best ><) feedback would be much appreciated! 🩵

You watched as the clock continued to tick as it reached closer to the hour you were going to be done with this dreaded lecture you were having. 

3… 2… and finally… 1. 

The clock strikes 14:00, and everyone seemingly grabbed the belongings that they had obviously packed way beforehand and rushed out of the lecture hall. You, on the other hand, were in no rush to head to your next destination, which was your accommodations.

As you took your time packing away your things into your backpack, your phone lights up and produces a ding sound, indicating that you have received a notification. You immediately took up your phone that was lying front screen down on the table, and read the notification mentally. 

Hey Y/N, remember this time during 2022? 

Snapchat. Always with the monthly notifications that you’ve never bothered clicking into to see what it was because your college life was never entertaining in the slightest bit. You were a lone girl, and you’ve always preferred staying in the university’s library till late at night and then heading back to the comforts of your accommodations. You were never an outgoing person, so attending social parties was definitely out of the question.

However, for some reason, your brain decides to do the opposite today, as you clicked on the notification, with the thought of just having a quick glance at whatever Snapchat wanted to remind you about. 

Now, you wished you could’ve turned back time and that you’d never clicked into the application in the first place. 

A picture appeared on the exact same date from a year ago, depicting you with your former boyfriend, Ji Changmin.

Honestly, the Y/N from your freshmen year would’ve laughed if she had known that you and the f*ckboy of your university were actually a thing for a good solid 2 years. Ji Changmin was infamous, to say the least. Not only was he a good dancer that has basically contributed to winning several trophies from various dance competitions that were held annually throughout the state, but he was also the face of the university. 

Many students and lecturers admired the way he was. The manner in which he presented himself, those doe-like eyes and how he’s able to put on this adorable yet captivating look that just makes everyone swoon over him? He was a winner for sure. 

Everyone could’ve sworn he was definitely up for the job to take on the role of the president of the student council, given the good grades that he has worked so hard to maintain throughout the years. But the lad always turned the offer down, saying how there were better students up for the role, especially his close bud Kevin or Sangyeon. 

In reality though, what really stood out the most among the students was that he was the infamous f*ckboy in university. Oh, how many girls have given up anything to be able to spend a day with him, or even doing the deed with the man himself. 

You have seen how he was always with another girl almost every other day, and being the goody two shoes that you were, you decided that he was someone you’d rather jump off a cliff than associate with.

That was until a frat party that happened 2 years ago when your assignment mate at the time, Eric, was basically dragging everyone he knew to come to join him. And of course, he had to bring his newly met friend along too because according to him, the more the merrier. 

You came up with so many excuses that night, saying how you were sick or how you had way too many assignments due the next day. But that did not stop the male from actually showing up at your doorstep and basically dragging you into his car, not even letting you have a say in all of this.

So there you were, at your first frat party which you obviously did not enjoy the slightest bit. So many times you’ve tried to avoid everyone like the plague, retreating to the kitchen most of the time to be alone while having the least intoxicating drink you could possibly find. 

Of course, your demeanour that day stood out entirely from everyone else, and that has piqued the interest of the f*ckboy that was watching you ever since the moment you stepped into the party. He had his eyes on you the whole night, desperately waiting for the right moment to hit on you. 

Ji Changmin definitely had to thank the hosts of the party for organizing the infamous beer pong game, for that was when both of you truly came face-to-face with one another. During that time, all of you were split into two different teams, playing the game against each other to see who would win. He was the representative of his team, while you and Eric were the ones for yours.

Apparently, turns out that Eric wasn’t the best at holding his liquor, and he passed out after having 5 shots. Naturally, you had to take on the responsibility of continuing the game. 

You wished so badly that you’d said no that time, for you became tipsy, unknowingly chugging down more than 10 shots for basically losing against Changmin’s team that night. 

As the game ended and everyone was basically minding their own business throughout the apartment, you quickly excused yourself to the bathrooms and tried to calm your spinning head down. 

And there was when Changmin took the chance of visiting you to see with his own eyes, how the girl that has caught his attention throughout the night has become. You were a mess, and that somehow turned the male on even more. 

“Please… I don’t want any trouble….” You whimper.

“Funny you say that because you’re clearly enjoying whatever I am doing to you right now.” 

Both of your arms were pinned up against the cold bathroom walls above your head, and somehow the male ended up leaving trails of kisses all around your neck, while he shoved his legs right in between yours. 

When his lips finally met yours, you seemed to have enjoyed it more than you thought. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but you for sure did not reject that idea and eventually, it turned out to be a steamy make-out session in the bathroom. 

Changmin has made out with multiple women before, yet somehow you just felt so different from the rest. The whole experience? The soft whimpers and moans you produced? Oh, he couldn’t tell you how much they sounded so sweet to his ears, and he craved for more. 

“I just can’t get enough of you.” 

As he began to untie the pretty white lace dress that you were wearing, he couldn’t help but stare at your collarbone as he drops your clothing right onto the ground. He licked his lips, and he couldn’t wait to dwell deeper into his fantasies. 

“People say that I tend to go wild and bite when I’m drunk. Don’t worry sweetheart I won’t do that, unless you’re into that sort of thing.” 

And that was how you ended up with a hickey and a bite mark on your collarbone for a good 2 to 3 weeks. You could only vaguely remember what happened back then, you were too intoxicated to tell from your own perspective. But the male surely did remember every single detail from that session, which was what made him turn his whole interest towards you.

God, he was persistent. He always made the effort to get close to you, while the only thing you wanted was to stay far away from him. But your efforts turned out to be an utter failure most of the time, for he would always be a step ahead of you. 

He somehow got your number and began following your social media accounts and leaving comments on almost all of your pictures, texting you almost every single day, up to sending your random snaps where the male just somehow always manages to get good photoshoot-worthy shots. Honestly, at that time you insisted on blocking the male for good until your assignment mate Eric convinces you otherwise.

“Give it a go, expanding your horizons is what you’re supposed to do in university.” 

You probably would’ve thought that Eric was insane, but later down the line, you realised that you were the one going insane instead. 

Eventually, Changmin decides to get close to you in person, where he’d leave you random post-it notes in your lockers every day and purposely bump into you whenever you both cross paths during lunchtime in the cafeteria. These actions that you once thought to be annoying and intrusive, were slowly turning into ones that you actually enjoyed. 

He was goofy and flirty at the same time, which somehow always manages to put a smile on your emotionless face that clearly indicated how exhausted you were from all the lectures you were dealing with on a daily basis. Eventually, you began to enjoy his company, so when he offered to take you out on your first date, how could you possibly say no? 

Both of you were head over heels for one another, and eventually, the university labelled you both as the new lovebirds of the season. It wasn’t until the 10th date (at least from what you could remember) that both of you finally decided that you both were to become official. 

Of course, it also ended up with having a heated make-out session after having a little too much to drink in his apartment. During that heated moment, Changmin finally took the first step of asking you to be his girlfriend. Being madly in love at that point, you had no reason to say no. 

Instead of giving him a direct answer, you immediately gave him a smile and pulled his face down to your lips till both of you were merely inches apart.

“Just shut up and kiss me already.” 

A bittersweet smile was plastered across your face as you decided to take a seat in your lecture hall. After that Snapchat notification, you unintentionally find yourself to be stalking his Instagram page that you once blocked. 

As you tapped into his icon, you began scrolling through his feed while tears started to form in your eyes. You looked through the dozens of pictures that he posted, and you couldn’t help but to reminisce back on the good old days. 

And that smile of his.  

That smile was something that you’ve grown to become unfamiliar with, it was a thing of the past anyways. 

What exactly happened that made you both parted ways? None of you really knew exactly. 

As both of you eventually reached your senior year, the number of struggles and burdens that you both had to bear was becoming more and more unbearable, which has led the both of you to spend less time together. 

Unfortunately, the struggles were too much to bear for Changmin, and he eventually returned back to his f*ckboy roots, going out and sleeping with a different girl every other day. He did not want you to bear his difficulties while you were already clearly struggling to make ends meet since you provide for yourself, hence he could only vent out his burdens with what he knew best. 

You, on the other hand, were heartbroken, to say the least when you found out that he was doing what he used to in the past before establishing a relationship with you. But eventually, you had to accept the hard truth. 

At the end of the day, f*ckboys will always be f*ckboys. 

As you were lost in your thoughts, your phone suddenly dings which was where you received a new notification, this time from Eric. 

Eric ⚾️: Hey, since finals are over care to join a frat party for tonight? 

Well, since you had nothing better to do and you were basically depressed all over again after reminiscing back on your ex, you immediately took up the offer, in hopes of going for the sake of taking things off your mind for a bit. 

Y/N: Sure, pick me up at 8pm. 

As you turned off your phone and the screen goes dark, you were met with the reflection of your poker face.

Everything is going to be alright. 

So here you were, back at a frat party. You haven’t been in one since the last where your first encounter with your ex happened 2 years ago. 

You just wanted to let things off your mind and basically used this as an excuse to forget about your ex.

Or rather, actually hoping that you’d bump into the male himself. Knowing him, he definitely would not miss out on such an occasion considering his position as the university’s f*ckboy. 

As you make your way around the apartment, sure enough, you found the male on one of the couches, with a random girl he has hooked up with for the night. 

It didn’t take long for the male to notice your presence, perhaps he could feel that a pair of burning eyes were basically directed towards him for some time now.

Not wanting to create a scene, you retreated back to the kitchen, trying your best to find any liquor you could get. Basically, it was kind of an excuse to keep yourself occupied. 

It didn’t take long for the male to present himself in the kitchen, now looking right into your eyes. It has been a good 6 months since you both unofficially ended things, and the tension in the air was awful. 

Not even asking about what both parties have been up to, Changmin immediately broke the tension off by posing a question that seemed a little too harsh for your liking. “We… have no feelings anymore, don’t we?” 

No Changmin. I still love you. After what you’ve done. But, why can’t I say it out loud? 

With the quietness that you returned to him, he slumped his shoulders in defeat and gave this painful smile that you wished you could’ve helped ease.

“Honestly Y/N, you’re too good for me really, for a f*ckboy like me. If there’s someone as similar as you out there, perhaps I could’ve made it work. I guess fate has its plans and you’re just not the right one for me.” 

Don’t say that. 

As the male walks up closer to you, he returns you with a hug, one that you knew that it meant to be the last farewell. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” 

You returned the male with a hug, and you tried so hard to hold back the tears that were basically going to stream down your face full of makeup that you’d done rather beautifully for the night. 

“Don’t worry about me, Changmin. I can never thank you enough for all of the beautiful memories we have made for the past 2 years. Your happiness comes first after all. I’ll be okay.” 

As you both broke off the hug, he decides to give you a quick peck on the lips, and oh how you savoured that short-lived moment. 

If this is really the last kiss, then let me remember it fully, from the shape of your lips to the scent that you gave. 

“You deserve someone better, Y/N.” Changmin pulled away and turned his back as he made his way back into the crowd in the living room. 

Right when he was gone, the tears that you’ve tried so hard to hold back finally poured down onto your face, and you desperately tried your very best wiping them away with your bare fingers. 

I wanted for us to start all over again so badly. But my ultimate decision was to put up a brave face in front of you. 

As you were done wiping the tears away, you made your way towards the exit and decided to take a breather and stroll around the area before heading back to your accommodations on your own before it gets too dark to be dangerous loitering around alone. 

With a huff, you looked up into the dark sky and tried your best to put on a sincere smile. 

Let’s both give our next love with our future significant other a shot. And may we truly find the right person to spend our lives with.

a/n: i'm actually considering to write a oneshot based on Eyes On Me & Door as well, do let me know if any of you would be interested in reading them ><

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @flwoie @hokupi (join my permanent taglist here!)

[emeritusemeritus]

hii! hello!! how are you? may I request a little something from you? I love your friends to lovers stories with dear Freddie so anything involving him and mutual pinning would be amazing 🫶🏻

oh, if it's not too much to ask could reader be a ravenclaw?

thanks in advance! 💐

Hi Anon! I’m very good thank you, hope you are well too! So I have to admit that this request sent me spiralling, so much so that I wrote a little more than a drabble.

From one Ravenclaw to another, please accept this insert from a fic I will be posting soon, inspired by your request 💙

George was perceptive by nature and had picked up on his brother's infatuation not long after it began, noticing that Fred's attention was often pulled away as soon as you'd walk into the great hall or class. Didn't matter that they were in the middle of a conversation or a tactful sale, in you'd walk and out would go Fred's sanity. George couldn't deny that you were pretty, you'd turned his head a few times, not that he'd ever admit that to his brother, but the affect you had on Fred was almost laughable. He was certain he'd seen his brother drool once over you, the hearts in his love-stricken puppy eyes almost making George want to laugh and vomit at the same time.

When he wasn't pining for you in ways George could hardly fathom, Fred was often touchy and sulky at the unrequited nature of his crush. If he saw another bloke talking to you or making you laugh, he'd be insufferable for the rest of the day, shooting daggers at the culprit and threatening under his breath to set off a dung bomb in the unsuspecting lad's dorm.

To make matters worse, you'd started attending Quidditch games regularly when Ron made Keeper in support of your friend and also as support for Hermione so that she wouldn't have to sit alone with her two best friends on the pitch, despite being a Ravenclaw. Many people went to support their friends and as long as they weren’t competing against your house you figured it was fair game to support them. You'd also infrequently started attending practice sessions with Hermione, sitting in the stands or on the side lines where you would spend most of the time studying or drawing. It was a double edged sword for the team if you showed up or not; if you didn't, Fred would mope about and keep checking that you hadn't arrived late during the entire time on the pitch. If you did show, he'd spend the time trying to impress you with comical dives on his broom, outlandish tricks and almost everything exactly fulfilling his actual role to get your attention.

[breezytealy]

Do you like tearing at your face whilst one character pines and the other doesn't clock that their perfect match is Right There? All with a heavy dose of Overarching Next Gen DB Plot? Then boy do I have the MarTen Weekend fic for you!

ONE DEGREE OF SEPARATION:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54507844/chapters/138095443 Despite years of feigned distance to keep their secrets, the Dragon Team's public personas are becoming ever more acquainted, and the deception is beginning to crumble. Complicating matters, Goten harbours feelings for Marron and believes he may have just missed his chance. But that affection may not be as unrequited as he fears.

This is actually a sequel to [JUST WATCH HER...], which is where Goten groks he likes Marron and why, but you can read ODoS as standalone if you roll with the basic 'he likes her' premise and are cool inhaling a tonne of world-building. Both work as jumping on points.

l'll be straight with you lads, as with every fic I write it's an excuse to explore ideas on how ki would work, the human drive for acceptance as well as exploring relationships of all kinds: romantic, platonic, co-dependent fusionic, conflict between our public and private personas and our internal struggle, which IMO lends itself well to the complicated dance of a friends-to-lovers dynamic with the superpowered backdrop. All with a heavy dose of silliness, of course. Meaning - even if this ain't your ship, maybe there's something else here or in the back catalogue to whet that appetite :) Have a good-un!

[thelaithlyworm]

For the writer asks: 4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like) 5. What character that you’re writing do you most identify with? 20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?) 25.What part of writing is the most fun?

For the writer asks: 4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like) 5. What character that you’re writing do you most identify with? 20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?) 25.What part of writing is the most fun?

Bear in mind that the minute someone asks me questions, all the Cool Answers wandering through my head slip off behind the couch and hide until the room is quiet again. But I’ll try.

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

Bai Haotian slammed her tiny fist down on the picnic table of Wushanju’s courtyard with pink-cheeked, drunken indignation. “Kidnapping does not constitute a teacher-disciple relationship!”

It’s got a nice snappy line (about the kidnapping) to hook in the readers. It also does a lot of scene-setting about who and where and what’s the tone of the conversation (casual but spicy) and who she is probably having it with (Li Cu, or about Li Cu, for that statement to make sense). And I like that flare of jealousy/possessiveness she’s showing there. I like Xiao-Bai as a sweet-tempered moppet, and as a competent manager. But I also like her as a small, stubborn kitten clinging to her chosen lap and hissing off all comers. (And I think that Li Cu and Xiao-Bai are Destined to wind each other up. Too much history with Wu Xie, too different and too deep, too many feelings.)

5. What character that you’re writing do you most identify with?

I tend to identify with all of them, as I’m writing them. Not gonna lie, though, as of Daomu Biji fandom, I feel a great bond with Wu Xie, ADD King, going off on his massive nerd spirals and wandering back to civilisation with deep circles under his eyes and cryptic utterances in his mouth. I feel it.

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

Hmmm… well for the story I quoted above, I was dropping some worldbuilding about how the memories of snake venom stick around – that Li Cu still had a hangover of Wu Xie’s feelings about people. Pangzi felt safe; Xiazi is someone you can’t trust not to tie your shoelaces together, nor not to lie to you, but always and ever you can trust him with your life; Wu Xie’s mental image of Zhang Qiling is reminiscent of the starts of Lost Tomb 1 and Time Raiders, an in-your-face montage of sun and mountain and snow. I think, at least for the universe in that fic, that the hangover would have faded by now but Li Cu gets lonely and hangs onto the imprint of Wu Xie for company. (Also, as a result of Wang Family indoctrination, Li Cu is incapable of thinking of Zhang Qiling as anything but “the Zhang Patriarch”, poor lad.)

Other meta… while I do have exceptions (multishipping is the path to joy) I tend to write Pangzi and Wu Xie as, not unrequited, they clearly love each other very much, but asymmetrical, where Pangzi wants kissing on the mouth but Wu Xie just doesn’t swing that way. Or any way. A little bittersweet, I guess. Anyway, what that also means, is that any time I write Pangzi’s other love interests, Yuncai and Piaopiao, my first step to breaking them is “a little like Tianzhen”. 

And, as a result of my last Wu Xie-esque nerd-spiral, I may start dicking around with Wu Xie picking up a fox mask. For, uh, reasons. (That thing where you make up a crack theory for funsies and end up convincing yourself, tut tut.) Anyway. In a similar manner to Wu Xie recreating San-shu after his apparent death with a face mask and copying his style, I think that King Mu of Zhou’s actual immortality method wasn’t baking himself in jade armour, but forcing a future child to learn his skills and style and become his hands in the far future. (I can explain my reasoning on request.) Anyway, if some of my fic gets weird in a particular kind of way, this is where I warned you.

25. What part of writing is the most fun?

Probably the part where I'm coming up with zingy lines like "kidnapping does not constitute a teacher-student relationship" quoted above and I don't yet have to do messy stuff like connecting it all together in 'a logical manner' or 'a timely fashion'.

I do also like getting to press the Post Work button too. That's just satisfying.

Thank you for asking!