#oneshot fanfic

[steampoweredwerehog]

In regards to your Nysm au, I know that’s it’s very unlikely considering this all happened bcuz of the narrators will to be perceived, but if something glitched out in a reset and he was back to being just voice, how hard would he take it? I can imagine him either being very confused and a little sad and stressed at the fact he’s not able to interact with Stanley for a bit, but mostly being levelheaded if anxious while trying to fix it… orrrr he’d go full panic mode at being deprived of touch and Stanley’s perception since it reminds him too much of the skip button. It could be either but the longer he’s had the touch ability, I figure the worse the reaction would be. (Love all your tsp stuff btw!!)

Great question! I was gonna give this a normal answer but I decided I liked pain instead :)

[problematicbots]

Sentijazz OneShot: Realx

A bit suggestive

Sentinel grumped as he constantly shifted around in his seat uncomfortably: who would have known the hardest part of getting off the planet was sitting down, and for what?

To improve relations with that organic rock that he would rather stay 30 million miles away from?

Whatever the end, it was not his choice in the end anyhow since as much as he hated visiting that planet and its dumb liquid falling from the sky, this was a direct order that he needed to follow whether he liked it or not.

So once again, he tried to find a comfortable position in his seat, only to be uncomfortable as a pile of scrap.

Jazz noticed Sentinel's struggles and decided to approach the prime with a raised non-existent eyebrow.

“Huh, you ok there, SP’ asked Jazz approaching behind the prime's seat .”

Sentinel grumbled under his breath as puff his chest plate out defensively, acting like he was just struggling for a few seconds in his chair.

“Pft, well, I have you know, Jazz, that's I’m perfectly fine; however, this chair on the other servo Is outdated,” huffed Sentinel, “and It seriously needs an update. “

Jazz started at Sentinel's chair: it was completely fine with no rust or any uncomfortable sport on it, however, he did notice Sentinel's shoulders were tense and so was his whole body.. no wonder he couldn't sit still he was stressed and he couldn't help but feel kind of bad for him

“Well SP maybe It isn't the chair that is the problem” suggested Jazz. “maybe you just need to relax “

Relax? Really, how did Jazz expect him to relax when they were able to visit his least third favorite planet?

“And how do you expect me to do that?” huffed Sentinel, crossing his arms, clearly not amused.

“Just lay back, SP, and take a deep breath,” suggested Jazz, hoping this would work.

Sentinel wanting to get in and out of earth as fast as possible decided to take Jazz's suggestions with a little optics rolled despite his skepticism as lay back in the chair taking a deep breath in the progress

“It is not working” spoked Sentinel bluntly while still shifting around his seat still tense as ever

Jazz rolled his optics and sighed a bit, knowing it was going to take a lot to get Sentinel to relax, yet at that moment a weird Idea popped into Jazz’s hard drive that could relieve some of that tension on Sentinel’s shoulders.

“Hold up, let me try something that could help” spoked Jazz, although a bit hesitant, as he placed his servos on Sentinel's shoulders, making the prime jump a bit.

“What do you think you're-” Before Sentinel could protest, Jazz softly used his servoes to his shoulders, which, surprisingly, felt great. “D-doing…”

Sentinel let out a gasp and satisfied sigh as his frustrated faceplate turned to relaxation with a forming smile as he leaned deeper into the massage

“See Sp, doesn't that feel better” asked Jazz working up the prime’s shoulders while Sentinel for the time ever looked calm and at ease

“Y-yes,.. oh, that's the spot, “ sighed Sentinel, enjoying this way too much. Let his Let’s Jazz servos sink into him. “Keep going”

At any moment Jazz expected Sentinel to tell him to quit it yet the prime didn't instead Sentinel ushered for the cyber ninja to come closer and he agreed to move to the side to get a better angle on him

Jazz kept massaging making Sentinel let out many sighs getting way into it however he wasn't the only one as Jazz leaned his chin onto Sentinel's shoulders as servos massaged downward towards his arms

“All better now?” asked Jazz, unintentionally breathing against Sentinel’s neck, slowly making the prime shiver in pleasure.

“Y-yes I'm ohhh~” moaned out Sentinel as his faceplate turned into one of pleasure as a blush spread across his face

The moan caught Jazz off guard, a little blush across his faceplate as his optics widened behind his shades as he watched Sentinel lean his faceplate closer to Jazz's faceplate; however Jazz, for some reason, didn't pull away almost as if he was frozen in shock.

“huh, S-Sp,” gulped Jazz, burning bright blue, feeling as his spark skipped a beat and his glossa was inches away from coming in contact.

“Y-yeah” breathed Sentinel placing his servos on Jazz's shoulder as both of their spark leap in the air

Neither of them knew which one made the next move but the next thing they knew Jazz was on Sentinel's lap with the prime softly caressing under his chin with his sevro while Jazz kept massaging his shoulder

For a moment, they stay like that, breathing and panting on each other before falling into a sobby kiss that sends sparks across the room.

During this, a door across from the two kissing mechs suddenly opens revealing Jetfire and Jetstorm on the other side shocked at the sight in front of them

“Holy scrap!” screeched Jetstorm flapping his arms around in shock while Jetfire’s surprised faceplate turned into one of smugness

Jazz and Sentinel quickly separate from each other when they see the twins entering; both of them try to act as if nothing happened. Sentinel, meanwhile, Jazz is just covering his frustrated and embarrassed faceplate with his servos.

“Thi-this isn't what it's like. We were just huh, well- we were just practicing CPR,” yelped Sentinel, making up every excuse from his helm.

This excuse, of course, didn't convince either of the twins as they both raised their non-existent eyebrows at Sentinel's oblivious lie since they saw the obvious shade of blush on both of the older mechs faceplates.

“Right because you two are definitely underwater right now” chuckled Jetfire sarcastically while Jetstorm tried to hold back a bit of giggle yet failed to laugh out loud like a hyena

Sentinel didn't appreciate Jetfire and Jetstorm laughing at his face at all as smoke came out of pipes creating a storm cloud

“DON'T YOU TWO COGHEADS HAVE ANYTHING BETTER TO DO? GO BACK TO WORK BEFORE I KICK BOTH OF YOU TO THE CURB, “ shouted Sentinel into the twins’ faces.

The shouting caught Jetfire and Jetstorm off guard; however they both quietly nodded and followed Sentinel's order as they began to leave the room. Yet Jetfire couldn't help but make one last remark before shutting the door.

“Whatever you say, Kisstinel Prime, “giggles Jetfire before disappearing with Jetstorm into a hallway

Sentinel growled a bit as he sweared to the all spark that those twins almost destroyed his nerves almost as much as Optimus.

The prime just shook his head before turning his helm awkwardly towards Jazz, who was still covering his faceplate with his servos.

“Huh..let never speak this ever again..” gulped Sentinel red in the faceplate from embarrassment

“Agree,” grumped Jazz, not believing he has the worst taste in mechs ever.

End

[lawful-evil-novelist]

Fandom: The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore Characters: Artemis Entreri, Nalfein Do'Urden Additional Tags: Original Character But It's a Fox, Foxes, Light-Hearted, Wizard Familiars are Just Smart Pets, Wizard Familiar, Implied Resurrection

Artemis' dagger is stolen, and he meets an unfamiliar yet familiar face.

[deathcapyandex]

Known Only By Alias

[known only by Alias]

A self indulgent loid forger x yandere self insert.

Yandere in the sense of reclaimed and coping with bpd by using my blorbo and f/o thank you.

Symptoms expressed include obsessive tendencies, jealousy and possessiveness.

Probably just gonna be the one fic unless I decide to write more about loid.

May or may not be replacing Fiona.

Code name Twilight, the agent currently going by the name Loid Forger was a highly respected person in the agency. Damn good at his job too.

Code name Sparrow, the agent assigned to a mission designated in twilights area was also assigned as a neighbor in case of backup or cover during twilights mission was needed.

Today was move in day, sparrow had just arrived at the apartment with their things and started settling in.

Residents had noticed the boxes and furnishings being moved in priar to their arrival and seemed to have created a little buzz, gossiping about the new neighbor moving in, so they expected to meet some people and have to introduce themselves a bit.

No problem, nothing to be nervous about, it would be easy enough. However the thing they were worried about, was actually meeting Twilight.

If they were to cooperate together for the first time, first impressions had to go well!

Though, this meant meeting the rest of the forger family as well. Sparrow looked forward to meeting his fake wife least of all.

They would have immediately volunteered to be assigned that role had they not had an assignment already prior, for the sake of the mission of course, another agent as skilled as sparrow surely would have been much better fitting.

But due to the shortage of agents available at the time limit twilight had upon starting his mission, he had to rope in some civilians. Unfortunate.

At the very least sparrow could be there close by to make sure things went smoothly for twilight. If this mission didn't go well, his reputation as an agent might get tarnished and the agencies entire operation could be at stake or worse. Being around twilight alone was quite the honour and a nice bonus too.

Though, having a seperate mission of their own would get in the way every now and then, they just hopped it didn't become too much of a hindrance.

For now it was time to play the part of the good neighbor.

A knock at the door of their apartment broke up the agents thoughts. They set down the books they were absentmindedly organizing in the living room, setting them on top of the low set bookshelf and walking to the entrance to answer the door.

A peak through the eye hole showed them the face of a blonde man, one glance at the pin on his blazer immediately told sparrow who he was.

They opened it to find a blonde man, a dark haired woman and a small girl. The forgers.

"hello" sparrow greeted with a polite smile.

"hello, I'm Loid Forger. This is my family, my wife Yor and our daughter Anya." He motioned to them both as he introduced them. "We're your neighbors nextdoor. We moved in just last month ourselves and we noticed you're new so we thought we would introduce ourselves."

"it's very nice to meet you all. I'm Sind Dufaux." They introduced themself in return.

"it's a pleasure to meet you mx. Dufaux! We were wondering if you'd like to join us for dinner tomorrow night" Yor spoke up with a bright smile, seemingly excited.

"that sounds lovely, thank you, I would" sparrow replied with an almost mirrored expression.

"it's settled then- ah, Anya, it's rude to stare, say hello" Loid spoke to his daughter.

The little girl stood staring with an awed expression at Sind, like something about them caught her by surprise in the "better than I imagined" way a child usually expresses.

*this kids pretty cute in person*

Anya smiled brightly "Hi!! I got a doggy and his name is Bond! You wanna meet him??"

"They can meet Bond tomorrow when they come over for dinner, sweetie" Yor pointed out with a chuckle.

"right!" Anya nodded with enthusiasm.

"well then, all that's settled. It was a pleasure meeting you Mx. Dufaux. We'll leave you be now" Loud nodded.

"it was very nice to meet you all too." They replied.

Loid and Sind exchanged a glance as the forgers left. A knowing nod, then the door was shut.

All seemed to have gone well. Though they could have done without Yors enthusiasm, twilight at the very least acknowledged them as a co-worker now.

And so starts the new fake life, two agents who only know each other by alias assigned to work together. If they didn't know better it was as if they were in some sort of romance novel. But no, of course not, this was strictly professional, and all for the sake of both their missions.

While sparrow was more than happy to lend twilight a hand, they would have to begrudgingly do so with Yor in the way.

Surely though, it will work out in the end.

Don't mind writing more if anyone is interested

[miyokurenai]

izuku and Bakugo fic where the reader is a childhood friend with them aswell! And she starts becoming distant with them all of a sudden. Thank u ❤️

I'm flattered and thanks for the request. Genies may not exist, but your wish is my command. Sorry I took long to make this. Here you go and enjoy.

••Redeemed Regrets ••

••••••{Bakugo x Reader x Izuku}•••••

Your name POV:

"Help!" I screamed with a crack of voice while laying down, unable to make a move.

"Don't..... push..... yourself" Izuku faintly spoke but I didn't focused on what he said. I focused on how he is now.

His dark black and greenish hair are covered in dust with little fragments of rocks. His cheerful smiling face now beholds scars at his cheeks and blood dripping from his forehead. While his body, especially his arms are like decayed leaves in color of ash that appeared almost no content of bones, unable to move. Like me he was also trying to steady his breathing, resisting the weight of the wall that fell on our lower body leaving only our arms and neck free.

He gave a slight smile even if his eyes are teary and droopy indicating there's nothing to worry about him. However, he can't pretend no more, he's already in a critical state.

"You're the one who's pushing yourself! Stop talking or you'll run out of breath!"

He gave a small laugh. "You're still...... the (Your name) I liked..." he shared while breathing in and out fast  to deliver those words clearly. He turned his head and looked at me with his eyes

I blinked many times but never spoke anything and just looked at him. I just never thought we'll talk again.

But his eyes are slowly closing he opened his mouth but uttered no words. He realized it too so he stopped then tried to smile even if he is shaking. I can't hear anything unless my heart beat. It  beats faster overtime out of fear and not joy.

"Izuku there's no time for  sleeping" I joked to lessen the serious aura around, trying to hide a fear that may happen.

He cleared his throat trying to talk once again, I moved my hand giving extra effort to do it that took a while. My body is really weak. I thought to myself. I held on tight to his sloppy arm for him to stop talking or else he'll kill himself.

"Take.... Care"

The tears in my eyes continuously fell on my cheeks like a never ending waterfalls. "Sleep well" I whispered and I hope he heard it. But some hopes stay as hope. I bit my lower lip stopping my self to sob but it never stops shaking. What made me sad most is he is still smiling even at his last day.

I admired him for never leaving a smile even when we're little. Still, I hated him often doing that.

"Deku!!!!!! You b*stard!!!!!!" Someone shouted from the door filled with rocks. The room slowly trembled resulting for other debris to slowly fall.

"Stop! It will collapse!"

"Wait?!!! (Your name)!!!! D*mbass, Even you?!!!!!"

He's here. I missed the times he calls me that. My inner self chimed with hope. Still, Bakugo's voice produced too much shock wave that not only trembled the place like an earthquake but also the massive pipes that are already loose. Izuku's lucky it didn't hit on him, I was.

"Ah!"

"Brace yourselves!!!! I'm gonna blow this up!!!!-"

"Quit shouting!"

"You're the one's shouting!!!! I'm trying to save both of you!!!!!"

"You're killing us! Not saving!" I yelled that left the room in silence. I stopped myself to ask if he is still there. Not only because I'm losing oxygen due to the added weight now the metal pipe is on top of me but Bakugo, didn't talked back.

A prideful person never gets speechless in an argument.

"Looks like you're only friend left you" someone mysteriously talked. I  looked around using my eyes, it didn't took long since he is on top of me. Sitting on the wall that fell at me while he's feet laid on top of the metal pipe like some guy relaxing on a beach.

"Good grief, it's just you" I complemented with a sleepy eyes looking at him.

"People do like to underestimate others just to be offered help."

"I don't "

"Don't get selfish my dear weak cousin. It's your fault that he died" he pointed on Izuku.

" And he changed" he blamed then pointed behind those rocks that covered the door way.

I gritted my teeth and lucky him that my hands are under these pipe for his face would be great  to be hit by it. He is still the cousin I've known, cruel and manipulative. His outfit is simply  a dark navy blue Sapphire cloak with a hood and yellow shoes. He still isn't good at fashion sense. But even so, I looked at Izuku's wounded face and remembered what I just yelled to Bakugo.

From the day I met them I only wished for them to smile purely not forcedly. I sighed making a decision I never thought I would think of.

"Alright-"

He cut me off and took a pouch from his pocket. After it he took a sandy silver dust and sprinkled all over my face. I made a small cough and he did that on purpose so I won't be able to talk.

"It's a deal! Okay you'll die when you reach 16. Good luck being a kid again, bye!" He continued while not allowing for me to speak a last word.

My eyes and vision are turning dark then black. The last thing or person I saw, was his grin.

I don't care about him nor myself. This is for Bakugo and Izuku.  I said to myself full of determination.

But then I felt different, I feel like I want to hit the bed.  That made me yawn like I never slept in ages.

             *******

"(Your name)!"

"Hey d*mbass!'

"Kacchan! She won't wake up  if you call her that"

I heard voices of two kids and felt their eyes looking at me.

"That's it! I'm going to shake her"

"You shouldn't -"

"I know what I'm doing!"

I felt a small hand wrapped at my back and lifted up causing me to sit. I decided to open my eyes to know who is it but  the hands of it are now at my shoulders.

"Wake up!" He shouted while shaking my shoulders that caused my whole body to wiggle like a broken vending machine trying to get a choco bar.

I got irritated and opened my eyes immediately with eyebrows close together like a tiger ready to attack her prey down.

"Hey! I'm not a living vending machine!"

"(Your name's) awake!" A little boy happily mentioned my name.

My eyes automatically looked at him and he is just beside me. He's alive and lively.

"You can smile?" Another boy asked with a sarcasm and he is just in front of me. I didn't noticed that I smiled until he spoke about it.

"I can! Why can't I ? You probably just liked it" I bragged confidently.

He swiped his head avoiding our eyes  to try hide his face but I can see his ear is already red.

"Kacchan maybe we should head  home, you've got a fever" Izuku gasped and put his little hands on Bakugo's forehead.

My guts want to tease him so I acted like an innocent child. I went close to his face and did what Izuku did and I felt the temperature arouse at him.

"Spider?!!!!" Izuku shrieked and once I heard that my face is ready to faint but if I do that creepy insect might bite me. So I jumped like a cat that was just thrown a cucumber while hugging.... Someone.

"Oh! It's just black fur ball" Izuku realized and turned his head to us but his eyes widened and now dumbfounded.

"Are you kidding me?! Geeez" I blurted and exhaled to let out the tension.

"Ahh... I can't breathe, get off"

"Hm?" I hummed cluelessly then took a look on Bakugo why did he said something off. But my whole dignity almost sank. My eyes opened really wide while both of my eyebrows almost reached at the air. I pushed him violently by accident and also embarrassment. I haven't felt I hugged him.

We looked away in opposite directions that left the field a noice of only coming from the grass as the wind passed.

This is literally akward! My inner self shouted that almost bangled my ears.

"I'm just going to fetch some fruits" Izuku broke the silence but his face is still the same as before, shocked. He walked stiffly like a robot after seeing unexpected things.

After what happened, I had enough of Bakugo's face and we'll just definetly fight if we're only the two of us.

"I'll help" I voluntarily shouted.

              *******

"I can almost reach it!" Izuku exclaimed with excitement . As he stretched his arms to get the red apple hanging on a tree while maintaining his balance on a branch.

Now's my chance. My selfish side cued.

I closed my eyes and deeply focused making a landscape of flower fields where butterflies fly freely. My skin tingled after sensing something pointy and a bit itchy.

I opened my eyes to reveal if it's here and they are. I swift a hand gesture dancing in the air and pointed at Izuku's back in the end of my hand incantation. While processing commands to be transferred at the mind of my butterfly.

"Get his quirk"

By that they followed it and flew in a rush towards Izuku's back for him not to notice and for me to teach him a lesson.

But I felt a sudden change of mind to continue or stop. He is your friend.

But I'm doing this for him.

Am I sure? Or I'm just doing it for myself.

"Got it---ah!!!"

"Izuku!"

He screamed not out of the bite of my butterfly but he fell when he jumped out of joy that resulted for his feet to land on air instead of a sturdy branch.

My feelings and thoughts were circling of worry and fear for he might get injured.

"Please save him" I let out a whisper out of unexplained emotion and action to be done. Yhe atmosphere then went windy and one butterfly came after another to Izuku's direction.

They gathered under the spot where Izuku may possibly fall. But as Izuku was on top of those butterflies ready for him to be caught  his body just passed at it as if he is  passing through a cloud mist. So he ended up hitting at a rock with butterflies on his back, the butterflies are for sure flat but atleast Izuku's drop impact lowered.

"Told you not to get it!" I worriedly shouted as I ran to him

"It's a hero's duty to meet the humanities needs. Atleast the apple is not squashed, here you go" he told cheerfully with a wide smile then gave me the apple forgetting how it's hurtful for your back and butt to hit at a rock.

"Stop pretending"

"Pretending?"

"It's okay not to smile if you're hurt. Smile if you want to not need to.  We're friends you don't have to pretend." I declared but the word friend almost hit like a shot of arrow in my heart.

"Well, as All Might does he puts a smile on his face even if things get bad."

"You've said that a hundred times"

"Really?! Well, it's a new record, a hundred in one"

"It's a hundred AND one"

"As I was saying let's get back!"

I wonder if you would even smile once you learned your quirk is gone.

"Ah!" Izuku shouted that waked my thoughts of daydreaming. Sometimes past hunts your present to change for the betterment of it's future.

I looked to his direction and saw him rubbing his back but he can't stand up like it's paralyzed at the grass. My hands are shaking as I ran towards him to scan what I can do.

Just like what happened before.

"Why did you took the apple?!!"

"You were looking at it. It's a heros duty to meet the humanities needs"

"For goodness sake" I slapped my forehead and rubbed my temple trying not to explode.

I took a deep breath and concentrated to call the butterflies that could help.

More of them carried herbal leafs water droplets, and a vine for treatment of his back. It didn't broke since I already ordered them to pull of the rock then gather dried leaves. Knowing the past is quite cool. What I don't know how my butterflies did that.

Atleast his quirk is at him, ready for tomorrow.

               ****

"Next is Izuku Midoriya" our teacher called him. This is Quirk Test, the day where things have changed. But now changed it for the better.

"Izuku it's your turn" Bakugo toughly said after being praised by our teacher for having a flashy quirk. He pushed Izuku where he is already shaking and frozen stiff. He is still shy as always.

I want to help also so I supported them but aggressively. My childhood days won't exist if weren't for them. They know how to make me smile purely but I never let them see it. That's the down part of my personality. Afraid of expressing myself too much.

I pushed Bakugo mildly but powerful enough for them to stumble on the floor like a domino.

"How dare you do that!!"

"I was trying to help"

"Well, you're not!!"

"Alright enough, Izuku is about to showcase his quirk" teacher calmly told us and Bakugo just mumbled and that's about me for sure. I stuck out my tongue and saw his nerve pop out of his forehead.

Izuku closed his eyes and focused everything on his energy from within. All eyes on him waiting what happens. After a minute, nothing happened.

Our classmates mumbled almost the same statement. "He is quirkless, one of the 20% in the population". I showed them my fist then glared and they shut their mouth automatically.

I looked at Bakugo and like before he gave a grin. Now the tragedy starts that I thought I changed it.

I already stopped myself to get his quirk. My thoughts said that made me think what are the possibility but a lightbulb appeared at my idea.

I took a robot toy and threw directly at his face.

"(Your name) why did you do that-" teacher's word were cut after all of us heard a blow from the walls. All of our heads turned and saw the wall formed massive and many long cracks circled from one source. The toy I threw.

How I threw it is not the suspect but because of his reflexes where the toy hit on the wall revealing his quirk.

"Cool, it's similar to All Might"

Everybody exclaimed and crowded around at Izuku. He is scratching his back while accepting praises and amazement of them then he payed a smile almost reaching his eyes. A blushing smile out of a little nervousness but full of gratefulness.

I'm thankful too that it went fine. I don't need to avoid him like I did in the early days. Not because he is weak but because of my weakness. Once I did a mistake I avoided the person whom I did it to.  But now my soul is purely filled with joy .

               ******

"You beat up those 4th grader all at once!"

"The most amazing heroes always win. They come on top no matter what."

"Wow your so cool!"

"I want to follow you whenever you go!"

"Yeah like a leader"

"Well, your first rule is-"

"Alright that's enough for today" I demanded and pulled his hands for him to stop thinking of a decision. I have to, if not, Izuku and Bakugo's friendship will  deteriorate.

There are times power binds growth of strength but blinds you in the end.

Bakugo wrenched his fist and sparked flame on it like fireworks, a sudden heat made me let go to him "Stop dragging me! You're not my sister!"

I did not argue back and looked around to know if we're here.

"Sit down" I commanded while pointing at a metal bench close to a medical store.

"You're not a boss"

"Don't be stubborn" I insisted then pushed his shoulders to forcedly sit. He was about to put away my hands as a kid  full of pride and that annoyed me.

"You're face needs to be treated!"

"I don't need your help! I'm not weak d*mbass!"

"Not being treated is weak, you just can't handle the sting of the alcohol that's for sure."

"That's not true, even if you pour that to my whole face"

"Really?"

"Go on"

With that I had a chance to treat him, taking a cotton soaked with alcohol after wiping his scars and dust at his face. Then sticking it with bandages in the end.

"You did that on purpose didn't you"

"You took long to realize it"

"Hmp" he pouted while crossing his arms who seemed really distracted when someone helps him.

"Asking help is never a sign of weakness it takes courage to do it, got that" I advised him but instead of listening he mimicked my voice I did got irritated but I took a deep breath. I just organized my supplies inside my bag. I new this would happen so I prepared. In the past, what I did is lift him with the help of my butterflies to lessen the weight and brought to the clinic six blocks away. My bones almost collapse after it.

"If a villain would ask what are your last words what would it be?" Bakugo suddenly asked.

I stopped what I'm doing but didn't look at him either. That's the last conversation I had with him. But now I need to make it right. I turned and look at him ready to tell the truth

"I don't know, how about you?"

"Hey I was the first who asked!"

"Clearly it's a situational question, you definitely have a answer in mind"

"Is it bad to ask"

"No.. but if it's you yes"

"D*mbass, I would tell to the villain to kill you"

"And I'll tell to the villain whoever demanded to kill me is the one I never had the chance to say I like him."

~~~~After 10 years ~~~~

I am standing in front of the entrance arc of an institute with big U. A. letters as the name of the this school. U. A. High

Without exploring your weakness, you'll never discover your true strength. That's what I learned

I distanced myself to two people I want to be with their side. Not to the reason of their fault but because of my own.

I avoided Bakugo, afraid to tell the words I never imagine I would say those eight letters.

I never spoke to Izuku, after realizing he doesn't need a friend who took away his quirk.

Only for one reason, for them to not smile. For them to realize it's okay not to do it and save it to moments that deserves it.

But what I learned is instead of finding a way to remove their smile is find a way to let out their pure smiles.

" Weekend just passed and you already missed this school"

"A little. Hey?! Where's Super All Might " I suddenly remembered that three of us walked here so I tried to turn my head if we left him behind but instead of that. I felt a hand wrapped at my back and pulled closer to where his heart beats.

We can hear each other's heartbeat while his face is slowly getting closer to mine. I didn't push him and decided to let him. It's just a small kiss. So I closed my eyes and smiled waiting for the moment that could motivate me at class.

"Guys! Why did you left me-- oh!"

We stopped while looking at him but I can feel a rage of energy beside me that can explode in a second. I let out a laugh while Super All Might explained himself while bowing many times asking forgiveness. Kacchan didn't accept it then took a deep breath ready for a shouting session.

"You really show off in the wrong time! We were about to--"

Ringggggg ding dong dingggggggg

The school bell covered some of the loud speech of Kacchan so we almost heard nothing.

"Come on, Mr. Aizawa will expel us if he found this out. You can do it some other time"

"Is it bad to do it with my girlfriend. Hey! Stop pushing!"

"You've already done it many times. Me and ochaco never done that."

"That's because I'm not weak"

"Hey! I was just explaining"

"Then let's settle this once and for all"

Kacchan announced and grinned ready to fight .

"Bring it on" Super All Might agreed while I just laughed holding my stomach for this two are getting stupid.

All of a sudden my heart beat pumped slowly, but made an impactful vibration that almost burst my hearing senses. A pump after another that beats stronger and more painful. I holded my chest. Now even my chest hurts like it's been squeeze by a snake unable to breathe normally.

Before I could tell them knees gave up and now I heard my body hit at the ground.

"(Your superhero name!)" Two of them shouted as they ran to me but my vision started to blur.

I smiled. Atleast I made things right.

*******

Sorry if the ending is somehow unexpected. But I hope I met your expectations. Thanks again 🥰

[clarislam]

Bonus fanfic: 

My Bravely Default/Second oneshot, “The Duchy Of Eternia Plays Among Us 3,” is now posted!

I hope all of you enjoy reading the newest addition to this series!

Read on Fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14229130/1/The-Duchy-Of-Eternia-Plays-Among-Us-3

Read on Archive Of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46762243

The rest of the series so far: 

Read The Duchy Of Eternia Plays Among Us: https://tmblr.co/ZRfhrndTJVgvaq00

Read The Duchy Of Eternia Plays Among Us 2: https://tmblr.co/ZRfhrndY6OdgGe00

[xia0mi-c0m]

Goner X Reader (GN)

(Reader is Genderless/Gender Netural, They/Theirs/Them pronouns used, was Meant to Be A Mini fanfic but it ended up a little more longer then i planned, Cringe honestly but that's all my fanfics, Third person, Name used for reader: MC, Pairings: Goner x GN! Reader, No smut none of my fanfics will ever have smut, mentioned death and blood, He/it used for Goner, Third person, i also force the goner to be soft, also HUGS!!! 😍😍😍, another thing: it kinda turns out to be strangers to lovers but the system is Demisexual🧍‍♀️ )

(I have had a crush on him since i first saw him on flamingos channel🧘‍♂️)

___________

MC was just having a average day and walking through the colorful place that they call "Paradise" until they saw fog consum the sky slowly until the whole place was filled with it, they wanted to shrug it off as the weather but the weather doesn't work like that as it slowly changed every few seconds, they saw people scared, screaming and running away, some parents running with their kids into their house, MC didn't know what was happening, until they saw a pitch black creature with a black hat and red eyes, one of the eyes slightly closed as if it was twitching, and a sharp sword, the creature having a black fog follow after every step come out the fog, MC didn't know what to do except run to a strangers house as the stranger allowed them in the said house, they immediately ran to the room, closing the cloth blinds and still panicking how they were going to cover the doorway of bedroom, the stranger hiding in bathroom tub, they hid in there for 30 minutes before MC heard slicing and a sound of blood and screaming, all they could do was laying down next the bed, their phone was on 12% battery, they shut off their phone, they don't know what to do thinking their probably going to die, they heard a door open and close, they got the courage to get out the side of the bed and tiptoe to the bathroom, being cautious and aware about every step, they stepped in the bathroom in the graphic scene, blood on parts of the tub, the body outside of the tub, obviously from attempting to run away, the blonde hair girl's body parts weren't connected to her, so much blood on the floor, will 100% be considered as traumatizing, MC was absolutely terrified by the sight and ran back to room, going back to their previous hiding spot.

Another 30 minutes passed and they wondered if they were safe, they stopped laying on the floor and sat with their head hid as best they could, they found a charger and plugged in their phone, they felt horrified that this was happening, these sort of things happen everyday and they should know what to do after doing this so many times but this time it was way more gorey and more scary, they kept on hearing screaming and slicing, until, it stopped, MC thought 'is it done now?', spoiler alert: it wasn't done, and they heard some noise behind them, they quickly jerk their head towards the sound, and it was the same creature, wait... It was the creature.

Their body went in flight mode and tried to leave by climbing the bed trying to get near the other side of the bed, successfully getting to the other side and running down the stairs and running out the open door, trying to ignore the bodies and blood everywhere, running until they got tired, before they went to a place they thought was safer, they saw how the town was destroyed, turning back to continue running, they did that until something stopped them, it was the creature, appearing in front of them, 'so it could teleport?!?' MC said basically yelling their head, "Nothing in life is free." The monster said in a deep echoed voice, they tried to back away from the creature only to fail and fall.

"Don't try to run, DON'T." the monster said, the rough texture of the road painful to sit on, probably scrapping their palms, the monster was pretty cool looking but it was literally about to kill them, "why?" MC said, wanting answers, they knew he probably didn't talk too much, the creature looked confused for just 1 second, wait, it can feel confusion? It looked like it just smiled everytime, but you guess it probably doesn't rarely, the creature talked again

"Why I did this?" The monster said, sounding frustrated

It was obvious it was probably possessed by vengeful demonic trickster spirits who seek revenge on humans, or at least humans who pretended to be demons and angels, the demon seemed to know that MC knew why he did this as a bunch of people of the town always having vengeful spirits chasing and killing them

"I see, you know why?" He says, as they nod, they seem strangely calm, acting if they weren't running away from him a while ago, it wasn't surprised as he knew they kinda expected this, he still felt pride knowing that they were still scared of him, MC decided that if they weren't going to be killed by it they will just say what's on their mind

"You look cool" they said

The Goner was confused why they were calling a monster that was about to kill them 'cool' but he took the compliment, he didn't tell them anything, it was slightly flustered and was glad it didn't show and he had that same psychopathic smile on its face, hearing that from a random person felt good though but he still wanted revenge

MC kept on complimenting him, it was always about how cool he looked, they were lucky the people who were killed are abled to respawn like they always did when these things happened, the Goner wondered if they thought of him as a joke but he wasn't complaining, he wanted to see if there were good people, it just met this person and yet he felt slightly loved by them, he should've got revenge before this happened, MC wondered why he was letting this happen, they managed to get up despite hesitating and they walked closer to him to get a closer look at it, "what do you want?" Goner said as he saw them get closer, he could've used his blade but it still had the ability to love and know that they didn't do anything, MC wrapped theirs arms around his neck, The Goner was way more flustered and confused, he got kinda used to it and hesitantly put his arm without the blade stiffly around their upper body, it's hand on MC'S back, They didn't expect him to hug back but didn't complain and relaxed.

Hey who ever wondered a mass murderous demonic trickster would have a nice side, also let's hope the other players don't see what was happening.

_______

(There was a bit of headcanons here but I tried to keep it in Canon the best i can, also I'm tired, I spent the night on it.)

[on-a-crescendo]

@rikkivoid Here is a very overdue little oneshot fanfic for you to go with your lovely art piece. I hope you enjoy it!

I'm also On_A_Crescendo on Ao3 🧡💚

-----------------------------

Everything was silent other than the gentle sound of falling snow and crunching underfoot as they walked. Izuku and Katsuki hadn't spoken a word since they left UA to head to the cafe.

Katsuki shoved his hands further into the front pocket of his hoodie as he shivered. He found himself regretting not wearing anything beyond it, a pair of jeans and his boots. His Quirk relied on his own sweat, so saying that he wasn't exactly a fan of colder temperatures would be an understatement. The only time he generally tolerated it was to go hiking and mountain climbing.

In contrast, Izuku donned multiple layers, complete with earmuffs and gloves. His breath clouded in front of his face as he addressed Katsuki.

"I told you it was cold out...you should have dressed warmer! Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"I'm fine," Kasuki muttered.

The quiet returned as they continued on their way.

"I feel bad that I asked you to go with me now, I'm sure you're regretting saying yes..." Izuku stopped walking and looked down at his boots.

Katsuki stopped and turned around. "Why would I regret saying yes?"

Izuku's cheeks flushed, which was noticeable despite them already being rosy from the frosty air. "I'm surprised you said yes to me anyway in all honesty."

"Why would I turn down an opportunity to go on a date with you?" Katsuki replied as he stepped closer.

Izuku's face shot back upward again in shock and he realized that Katsuki was now only inches away from him. "Y-you consider this a date, Kacchan?!"

"Isn't it?"

They stared at one another for a moment before Katsuki closed his eyes, leaned in and kissed Izuku. Izuku's eyes were initially wide in stunned surprise, but he eventually closed them. He could feel how warm Katsuki's lips were despite the wintry weather.

Katsuki pulled one of his hands out from his hoodie to place it under Izuku's chin. "That warmed me up, but how about I still get you a hot chocolate?"

Izuku grinned as he threw his arms around Katsuki's neck and pulled him into a hug. Katsuki freed his other arm so that he could encircle Izuku's waist.

"Sounds like a date!" Izuku planted a kiss on Katsuki's cheek before he reached down to grab one of Katsuki's hands. The snow continued to land gently as the two now walked together hand in hand.

"You know Izuku, I don't think I've ever felt as warm as I do right now."

winter kiss

[luveline]

hotch's little sister x spencer perhaps?

—Hotch’s sister graduates college, and Spencer is immediately smitten. fem, 1.6k

“She’s pregnant.” Emily shakes her bag of chips around. “But it’s not his baby.” 

Spencer frowns down at his sandwich. Rye bread is hard to cut, and the plastic knife isn’t putting up a good fight. “That’s awful,” he says. “He must be heartbroken.” 

“He’s distraught. Now he can’t decide if he wants to stay and raise the new baby with their first, or leave her and have split custody.” 

“What channel did you say it was on?” 

“It’s on NightDrama. I’ll find out the number.” 

Emily folds the empty packet of chips into a rectangle, then that rectangle into a triangle, folding the edges inside of a fold to create a parcel perfect for flicking at him. Spencer waits for it, tensing, but what he sees behind Emily steals his attention. 

She whips her head to follow him. 

You are, as Spencer watches you walk in, without a doubt one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen. And it’s not like you’re a model, you don’t walk with any such confidence, but it strikes him immediately. You’re pretty. And he’s never seen you in the office before. 

They get visitors occasionally but the majority of people so deep into this office would've been checked at security and cleared to come up here. You hold a visitors badge in your hand, which you promptly clip onto your shirt when you see people looking at you. Your frown makes you prettier. Something about the way you stand seems familiar, but Spencer can’t put his finger on what it is. 

“Should we go help?” Emily asks. 

“Who do you think she’s for?” Spencer asks back. He’s thinking you’re here to speak to JJ. They have people like this occasionally who JJ knows from past cases, drifting in on a hope that there’s more detail to be found. 

Emily stands up from her chair. Spencer follows suit. When you see her facing toward you, some of your apprehension melts into relief. 

“Hi,” you say breathily, summoning a smile that, again, seems familiar. Not in looks, but practise, maybe. 

“Hi there, can we help? You look lost,” Emily says. 

She sounds more friendly than Spencer could’ve hoped to achieve. He doesn’t even wanna think about it, from how pretty you are he would’ve stumbled over even the most basic hello. 

“I’m here to see Aaron Hotchner. He told me his office is up the stairs, is that still one of these ones,” —you nod gently at the stairs that do, in fact, lead to his office— “or somewhere else?” 

“That’s the right one, the very first door.” 

“Okay,” you give a soft laugh. “Thank you. This place makes me nervous.” 

You leave to travel up the steps. Emily and Spencer watch without any casualness as you approach Hotch’s office door, and give a little knock. 

It’s more surprising to see it tugged open so quickly after. Hotch usually says, “Come in.” 

“Oh, you’re here,” Hotch says. It’s to Spencer’s shock and Emily’s clear joy when he leans in for a hug. The bearhug kind, no politeness or manners about their intimidating boss as his arms cross behind your shoulders and he pulls you in. “You’re late.” He squeezes you. 

You let it happen. “I hate your building.” 

“What the hell?” Emily whispers. 

“I’m so happy to see you. Come on, come in, I ordered lunch for us already.” 

Emily is shameless. She takes Spencer by the wrist and encourages him to the wall below Hotch’s office as he ushers you inside. The door remains ajar, perfect for snooping, and Spencer doesn’t know what it is but he lets Emily drag him forward anyhow. 

“If that’s his girlfriend, he should be ashamed,” Emily whispers. 

Spencer raises his brows. “Did you think that was romantic?” 

“I’ve never seen him show affection to anyone who wasn’t Haley, and when was the last time she was here?” 

Spencer tosses it around in his mind. Sure, it was quite affectionate by Hotch’s standards, but the hug was so… uncareful. He’d grabbed you and hugged you like he was gonna shake you around for fun, like a dad hugs his daughter. “How old is Hotch?” Spencer asks. 

“You don’t think that’s his secret kid.” 

“No,” Spencer says, though he sort of does. 

Emily gestures for him to hush as your laugh drifts down from the office. “You did?” you’re asking. “It’s so nice to be home.” 

“Of course I did. It’s like I promised, okay? You finished college like I asked you too, you’ve done so well, and now I’m gonna make sure you’re happy. Like I tried to do for Sean.” 

“Sean,” you sigh. “He didn’t even answer my grad card.” 

“I don’t know what to say about him, I really don’t.” 

A small pause. “Well, at least you answered.” 

“You know I would’ve come to watch you walk–”

“But you couldn’t. It’s fine, Aaron, I wasn’t really expecting you to make it.” 

“I’m sorry. Really. And I’m proud of you, after everything.”

“Thank you… The bag was better than you being there anyways. Coach?” You laugh breathily. “My friends keep asking me if you can be their big brother too.” 

Emily and Spencer turn to each other, mouths agape, Emily slapping his arm as they struggle to make no noise. Since when does Aaron have a sister? A young sister freshly graduated? 

Hotch laughs too. “Come and sit before your lunch gets cold.” 

Emily gets out her phone to text Morgan, she and Spencer pressed to the wall with their heads ducked. Hotch is a total enigma, because what the hell sort of secret is that?

When Morgan appears, it’s with all the answers. He rolls his eyes at their clear position of eavesdropping but leans against Emily’s desk to give them the information they’re craving anyways. “She’s adopted. Hotch was already in college at the time, but they’re close. They get along a lot better than Hotch does with Sean, that’s for sure.” 

“He sounds protective,” Emily says, side-eying the office. 

“Look, it’s not my business, but I just know it was bad when she was a teenager. Hotch is a drill sergeant for a reason.” Ah, Spencer thinks. The Hotchner father. 

Spencer picks at his hands. It explains the conversation he shouldn’t have been listening to, to a degree. He feels the guilt of knowing something he wasn’t meant to like a sodden weight, retreating swiftly to his desk and his forgotten sandwich.

It’s nice to hear Hotch laughing, but it’s your laugh that draws him in again while he tries so hard not to listen. It’s as attractive to Spencer as your frown had been when you walked in. He thinks about how you finished college, how you’re here, and he wonders if he’ll see more of you —how often will you come in for lunch? Spencer checks his hair in his sleeping monitor and feels like an idiot. 

“I’m sorry,” Hotch says a little while later, elbowing open the door with his back to the office, “we’ll have dinner soon, honey, I promise.” 

You reach up to give him another quick hug. “It’s fine. It’s just nice to be in the same city again.” 

Hotch guides you down to the bullpen with the same pride with which he introduced Jack. It’s unmissable, the love he has for you in just one touch against your shoulder. “Y/N,” he says, pausing at the bullpen, “Derek Morgan you’ve met. This is Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.” 

“Spencer Reid?” you ask suddenly, looking up into Hotch’s face like he’s lying, your brows pulled together in indignation, before you turn back to Spencer reverently. “You’re Dr. Spencer Reid?” 

He gets caught on his own breath. “Uh, yes?” 

“The Dr. Spencer Reid who wrote Methods of Continued Fraction Expansions?” 

Spencer feels heat like a kiss to each cheek. “Yes.” 

You turn to Hotch with a suspicious pout. “When I told you about the paper I was reading by a Dr. Reid a few months ago, you didn’t stop to think it could be your Dr. Reid? Or you just don’t like me?” 

That’s a sister’s scorn if Spencer’s ever heard it. 

“I thought you said Rain.” 

“I don’t think you did.” You turn back to Spencer. “I can’t believe it, I emailed you about Jacobi elliptical functions, you were so helpful, I owe you my degree.” You put your hand out with a beaming, beautiful smile, Spencer’s stomach totally flips. “It’s amazing to meet you in person.” 

He’s a germaphobe, he is, and that doesn’t just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he shakes your hand. You surprise him too quickly to think beyond taking your hand letting it happen. You’re, like, glowing. 

Hotch gives him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite. 

Spencer abruptly lets you go. “I don’t think you would’ve needed my help to get there in the end. You clearly knew what you were doing.”  

Hotch’s eyebrows silently rise. 

You turn back to Hotch again, your smile catching. “I like your friends.” 

He smiles. “Let me walk you down to the lobby, honey.” 

You let him guide you away, giving the present members of the BAU a wave with just your fingers before you go. 

Morgan and Emily look at him heavily. “Spencer,” Emily says. “What was that?” 

He doesn’t want to say what he thinks it was, so he doesn’t. “She was nice.” 

Morgan’s laughter is immediate. Spencer has to walk off to the kitchen for a cup of tea he doesn’t drink to escape him and the connotation of his laughing. Spencer hopes he’ll see you again soon, though if he’s half a good a profiler as he thinks he is, he might end up in trouble with your brother.

[rex3o]

Doting wife

Royal au! Sukuna x Reader

Being the emperors wife was something that you would have not expected to be in the position of. Many would think being the emperors wife, would bring in love, happiness and luxury. Yet your husband would be nothing of the sorts, yes you heard of his reputation. A cold and ruthless emperor with a thriving empire, you entered his palace with big hopes and determination of changing him to be a loving husband.

oh how wrong you was.

After 4 years of marriage and a heir to his throne, he was as cold and ruthless the day you met him. Every interaction was short or met with silence. You put effort in your duties as his wife and empress to the empire to impress him. Yet nothing. You wore his favourite colour. Nothing. You did your make up differently. Nothing. You tried talking to him about things he was interested... and nothing. He was not phased. During the birth of your son, he was nowhere to be seen only to come in the following morning and smile at the sight of his son. yet when his red eyes met yours his smile dropped.

So here you sat in the royal gardens watching your three year old son chase a butterfly with his toy sword. Letting your mind wander, you had tried everything.. what was you not doing that he hasn't even dropped a single thought on you. Your lady in waiting looked at you a bit confused as you continued to stare hardly at nothing.

"Your majesty" she says softly yet anxiously, as she looks at you while drifting her eyes to whatever thing you was staring at.

"hmm" you say.

"are you uh.. quite alright you seem to be staring at.." as she is lost for words.

You snap out of your thoughts and look at her, your eyes widening a little.

"oh apologises, I seemed to have lost myself in thought."

She exhales as she smiles at you.

"oh that is fine.. may I ask about what?"

"oh nothing.. you know.. thoughts." you say not really wanting to indulge on the countless attempts of getting your husband to even give a glance at you.

Your eyes land back on your son as you find him aggressively hitting the dead bug on the ground. Definitely his father's son. You thought. You got up from your seat as you approached your son to stop his insane antics and bring him back inside. The boy huffs and drops his toy sword and runs back inside as you followed after him, walking back inside the palace you spot Sukuna walking with several of his advisors, as they head somewhere. You do not let your eyes linger for long as you follow after where your son had ran off.

After several hours of chasing your son around the palace, you managed to catch him and get him ready for dinner. As you both head inside the dining hall, he runs and takes his space next to his father. Sukuna sat on his seat already busying himself with the food. You sit down and remain silent. How odd. You're never quiet at dinner. You ate your food only glancing at your son to see if he is eating like a proper boy and not gobbling his food like a damn animal.

Dinner goes swiftly, without a word as Sukuna finishes, you take your leave. He gives a quick glance at your figure.

The days went on, this new personality of yours. Quiet, not chatty as before. The little interactions of yours, well one sided conversations, with Sukuna went from infrequent to zero. He noticed this. As you slowly put your effort and interest into other things besides him. Sukuna would find himself at least hoping for a glance of you around the palace. Hell he would be even be satisfied by you uttering a single word at the dinner table. But no.

There you three was again at the table, silence except for your son's occasional ramble of what he did today to his father.

Sukuna bore his eyes onto you, as his son's yapping went from one ear to another. Gripping onto his utensils as he waits for your eyes to meet his, for you to utter something. Yet you sat on the opposite end eating your food finding the chandelier to be the most interesting thing you came across the whole day.

"Have we lost our manners suddenly." he blurts out annoyed.

You stop chewing as you slowly look at your husband, as if he grew a pair of wings and started to fly.

"pardon..." was the only thing you could conjure up.

"I am your husband, you are supposed to greet me, ask me how my day is.. have you forgotten your role wife?" he demands. Yet your clueless face irked him more.

".. uh- how was your day?" you ask, not knowing if you should or not. Sukuna grunts in response.

"that's more like it." Is all he says, as you remain confused for the remainder of the dinner.

Your interaction with Sukuna stuck out like sore thumb to you for the next couple of days. You did not know what to make of it. You stood silent, as the advisor chattered along on what to do for the next royal event. The advisor realising that your mind was on something else he quietened down waiting for you to speak. As you came back to reality, you looked at him confused.

"w-we can do this on another day empress if your feeling under the weather." he says anxiously. You just barked out a laugh.

"I am good, something had caught my attention, please continue." You say, as he goes continues. The door to the private meeting room swings open as Sukuna enters and makes his way next to you. The advisor taken aback looks at you if he should continue.

"Continue" Sukuna commands as the man starts his nervous ramble now more directed to Sukuna for the royal event. The meeting ends, the advisor leaves defeated as he didn't get much answers from the both of you.

This new behaviour of his continued, every day at least at one point of your day, he makes himself known and sit with you till he seems fit. He doesn't say anything some days but others he would demand you to say something, whatever it was you was doing on that day he will involve himself. Even if it was watching your son fight an imaginary dragon. But you did not back down. Yes this was entertaining watching your husband finally put some sort of an effort. So you kept this behaviour of yours up. Almost like a silent contest on who is going to break first.

As the day of the royal event dawned, you spoke to your guests, in your beautiful gown. Your presence captured everyone's attention.. even your husband. As a duke kindly asked for your hand for a dance. You took his request, as you both waltzed on the ballroom floor. As he lets you go for you to spin, you are met back with a familiar set of arms. Your eyes met your husbands crimson eyes.

You hold back your smile, as he lead you to dance. Everyone's lingering eyes drifted away, the music blending away in the back of your mind, as you both danced.

"You did not wear red.." Sukuna comments. You look back up at him.

"I have worn red too many times." You retort.

"Too many times.. even for your husband?"

All you did was shrug your shoulders, as his hand your waist tightens.

"You used to gab my ears off woman.. now your as silent as a mouse." He comments.

"And..?"

"Has my efforts not been enough.." He quietly says in your ear.

"You think, a couple weeks of you spending some time with me, making me question you is effort" you say back in disbelief.

"It is something woman" he says slightly annoyed.

You look at him, as your smile slowly fades.

"I spent the last four years, catering to your needs, acting as a good wife to you.. yet the moment I stop you suddenly remember you have a wife and start acting like somewhat of a companion-"

"companion" he says offended. "I have treated you like a husband should, I spent time with you, I spoke to you, I provided you with a palace and riches."

"oh thank you for doing the bare minimum." as you push yourself away from him and composing yourself as you walked away from the ballroom floor. Sukuna stands there as he walks off the opposite direction not wanting to make a scene in front of his guests clearly annoyed.

While the event progresses, as all he could think about was you, what you said. He watched your every move, every word you uttered to your guests, every sip you took from your glass, every hand movement. He took note of it. He did not care if people realised he was staring you down. He couldn't wrap his head around how you could even think of speaking to him like that.

Was what he did not enough? Before you would swoon if he even said a word to you. Now you did not care. You would chatter his ear off about things you assumed he would be interested in. Now silence. All your efforts now gone.

What was he not doing to get you back to being his doting little wife.

part 2

-

big FAT authors note : I cannot lie guys I am not fit for long fics but yk what I can do... make one shots so please enjoy what my mind could conjure up for 15 minutes after having 3 cups of chai. Also I may have a thing for historical au I dunno. my head is NOT working. so pls if there is any mistakes do LMK!

- R

[xhyjin]

husband nanami! who cuts your steak for you on dates because he knows you have a hard time doing it.

husband nanami! who lives and breathes you. he wakes up for work already missing you, laying in bed and watching you sleep as he gently plays with your hair.

husband nanami! who finds himself staring at photos of you randomly throughout the day when he’s not with you, not even realizing he has the biggest smile plastered on his face until someone (gojo) points it out. he gets so flustered, quickly shutting off his phone to keep them from seeing your photos—because they’re his and his only.

husband nanami! who holds your purse, your drink, your jacket, even your earrings—anything and everything—while you’re out, because he adores being part of anything that has to do with you.

husband nanami! who never raises his voice at you (bare minimum, of course) but will scream lyrics with you at the top of his lungs, even if it’s completely out of his comfort zone, just to see you smile.

husband nanami! who plans on renewing your vows “just because,” when in reality, he simply can’t get enough of how breathtaking you look in white.

husband nanami! who has your contact saved as “mrs. nanami” with the silliest photo of you—one he knows will definitely get him in trouble if you ever see it, but he keeps it because it makes him smile every time.

husband nanami! who somehow brings you into every conversation, no matter how random. his coworkers could be discussing the weather, and he’ll find a way to connect it to you, much to their annoyance, because it seems like your name is the only word in his vocabulary.

husband nanami! who sometimes writes your initials next to his on his work files while daydreaming about you, like a love-struck teenager doodling on their homework. sometimes, he forgets to erase them, leaving the pages covered in your initials, much to the confusion of his coworkers reviewing the files.

husband nanami! who takes your opinions on his work seriously, so when you tell him not to go to shibuya because you have a gut feeling, he listens and is forever grateful he did. because we all know why. (😔)

husband nanami! who quits being a sorcerer and a businessman just to enjoy his life with you, with no other responsibilities but you, you, you, you, and only you.

husband nanami! who always tells you to bring your jacket whenever you two go out, but secretly hopes you forget, because he loves when you get cold and he gets to give you his. he knows it’s wrong to make you feel cold on purpose, but he can’t help how adorable you look all warm and snug in his jacket, while he shivers with a proud smile, his arm around your waist.

husband nanami! who purposely leans his head back while kissing so you have to pull him by his tie to bring him back down to your level, just because he loves how it feels when you take charge.

[mephisto-reporting]

Jealousy, Jealousy with Sylus

Plot: Reader becomes jealous of Sylus and MC's closeness, distancing herself and seeking comfort in another LI. Sylus notices her growing distance and takes action. Based on this request. Pairing: Sylus x Non MC reader Content Warning: Insecurities, injuries, mention of blood, jealousy, angst, hurt/comfort Note: Reader is not the MC of the game. I think I got quite carried away writing this because I am a sucker for angst.

The faint hum of the air condition echoed through the Onychinus base, its opulent, luxurious atmosphere doing little to distract from the knot twisting in your stomach. You stood across from Luke and Kieran, their crow masks tilted slightly as if to gauge your reaction.

"Boss isn't here today," Luke said casually, his hands tucked into his pockets. "He’s in Linkon, Boss man’s got other things to handle."

Kieran, his mask tilted slightly to the side, gave a confused grunt. "But I thought he was meeting with her...?"

Luke raised a brow, correcting him. "No, no, he was meeting with Miss Hunter."

Miss Hunter.

The words hit you like a sledgehammer, even though they shouldn’t have. You were a hunter too, an informant who had been feeding Sylus critical intel on the association’s movements for two years now. But she was different. Special.

Captain Jenna’s star pupil, with her rare Anhaunsen-class Resonance Evol, was someone Sylus had spent weeks trying to connect with, both literally and emotionally. You weren’t blind to the necessity of it; resonating with her was crucial for his goals, ones he hadn’t entirely shared with you but that you trusted him to pursue.

Trusted him. Loved him.

You forced a tight smile. "Thanks for the update. I'll let you two get back to it."

Luke and Kieran exchanged a glance, but you were already walking away, the echo of your boots swallowed by the hum of the base.

The ride back to Linkon was supposed to clear your mind. It didn’t.

The cool wind whipped against your face, but all it did was sting the tears pooling in your eyes. The road stretched endlessly ahead, yet the pressure in your chest only grew. Sylus hadn’t seen you in two months. Two months of unanswered calls and messages reduced to half-hearted responses when they came at all.

You understood why he was focused on her. She was crucial to his plans. She was everything you weren’t: poised, pretty, powerful, and, most importantly, someone he needed.

But understanding didn’t make it hurt any less.

The world blurred around you as your thoughts spiraled. You had always known your place in Sylus’ life. You were the informant, the quiet insider who helped him stay two steps ahead of the hunters. Somewhere along the way, though, you had fallen for him. For the man who wasn’t as cold and calculated as others believed. It had been two long years since you started working with Sylus. Two years filled with secrecy, lies, and hidden truths. But over those years, you'd found yourself tangled in emotions for him that you couldn’t shake. Sylus, with his cold authority, his dangerous smile, his complex nature… He was all you could think about. He wasn’t as dismissive as people thought. He had a way of looking at you when no one was watching—a fleeting softness that you cherished, even if you couldn’t be certain if it was real.

And now, it felt like you were losing him.

Your bike screeched to a halt near Meow’s Café. You hadn’t planned to stop, but the sight of the familiar storefront tugged at you. Perhaps a coffee and a moment to breathe would help.

The glass windows glinted under the midday sun, and your breath hitched as you looked inside.

Sylus was there. With her.

They sat at a small table, a deck of Kitty cards spread between them. He was leaning back, his smirk in full display as she laughed at something he said. It was the kind of laugh that reached her eyes, the kind of moment you had only ever dreamed of sharing with him.

You froze, your hands tightening on your helmet.

For a fleeting second, you wanted to march inside and demand answers. To ask him why he had time to play cards but couldn’t return your calls. To tell him how his absence had hollowed you out.

But you didn’t.

He looks so happy... you thought bitterly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

The truth gnawed at you. Every interaction, every ignored message, every unread notification on your phone—it was because of her. Because Sylus had more important things to do. She was the one who mattered now. She was the one who he had to resonate with, had to bond with, had to make fall for him.

And you? You were just a pawn, a tool—forgotten. And there you were. Alone. Watching through a window, the warmth of the cafe contrasting the cold, empty feeling in your stomach. He hadn’t even bothered to let you know he was back. He was with her. You couldn’t bear to watch any longer, but you couldn’t look away either. It felt like the world was spinning faster than you could catch up, and you were left stranded, dizzy, and abandoned.

Instead, you turned away, your chest tight and vision blurred. The world felt suffocating, the weight of your unspoken feelings dragging you down as you climbed back onto your bike.

It was for the best, right?

You couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep waiting for him, couldn’t keep fooling yourself that there was something real between you two. He was busy. He had her. And you.. well, you didn’t even know why you bothered anymore.

The ride back to your apartment was a blur of taillights and muffled engine noise. The city’s glow that usually brought you some sense of comfort felt glaring and alien tonight. By the time you made it inside, the suffocating silence of your small space was overwhelming.

For someone who prided herself on being strong and independent, you barely made it to your couch before the sobs overtook you. Hot, angry tears streamed down your face as you clutched a pillow to your chest, trying in vain to keep your cries muffled. It felt as though something within you had been ripped apart, leaving an aching, hollow void that throbbed with every thought of him.

You replayed the image of him at the café in your mind, over and over, as if some part of you wanted to punish yourself further. His smirk. Her laughter. The ease of their interaction. It contrasted so sharply with the heaviness that now weighed on your heart.

Every chime of your phone made you flinch, hope briefly sparking to life, only to be cruelly snuffed out when the screen lit up with messages from others—work updates, pointless notifications, or friends checking in. Nothing from him. Of course, there wouldn’t be.

You wiped at your face, your chest tightening as you scrolled through the last few conversations you’d had with Sylus. They were short, clipped responses. A "thanks" here, an "I’m busy" there. You’d convinced yourself for weeks that he wasn’t brushing you off, that his focus was just elsewhere. But deep down, you knew. You’d always known.

You weren’t as important to him as he was to you.

That realization settled over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating and final. And yet, you tried to convince yourself it was okay. He doesn’t owe me anything, you told yourself, though the thought only twisted the knife deeper. He’s free to choose who he spends his time with.

But it didn’t stop the tears.

The days that followed were a haze of exhaustion and numbness. You threw yourself into your work, spending long hours tracking and confronting wanderers. The physical exhaustion helped, even if just a little. At least when you were in the middle of a fight, the pain in your chest was drowned out by the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Still, the nights were the worst. Alone in your apartment, the quiet crept in like a suffocating fog. You tried to distract yourself—reading, cleaning, even organizing old mission reports. Anything to keep your mind from drifting back to him. But it was impossible.

Each time you saw his name in your contacts, you hesitated. Your thumb hovered over the call button more times than you cared to admit, but the fear of hearing his indifferent voice stopped you every time. What would you even say? That you missed him? That you wanted to see him? That you’d fallen for him, even though you knew it would never be mutual?

No. You couldn’t do that to yourself.

You worked harder, pushed yourself further. Every wanderer you fought became a stand-in for your frustrations, your insecurities. You told yourself that if you could just stay busy enough, the ache would go away. But no matter how many missions you completed or how many late nights you spent staring at your phone, the weight in your chest never fully lifted.

By the end of the week, you were exhausted—physically and emotionally. But you were surviving. Barely. The bell above the door jingled softly as you pushed into the chocolatier’s shop, the rich scent of cocoa and vanilla wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The day had been grueling—hours of chasing leads, a narrow escape from a particularly aggressive wanderer, and not a single bite of food since morning. Your stomach growled in protest, a sharp reminder that you’d been running on fumes for too long.

Rows of meticulously crafted chocolates gleamed beneath the glass counter, their perfect swirls and shimmering finishes almost too beautiful to eat. Almost. You leaned forward slightly, scanning the display, your reflection ghosting over the pristine surface.

Dark chocolate truffles. Raspberry ganache. Caramel hazelnut clusters. The options were overwhelming, and your indecision felt heavier than it should’ve. Your chest still ached from the lingering emotions you’d been suppressing all week. The quiet joy of the shop felt alien, like stepping into a world you no longer belonged to.

Just pick something and go, you thought, your fingers tightening on the strap of your bag. But the choices seemed endless, each one whispering promises of sweetness you weren’t sure you deserved.

"If you’re struggling," a soft, measured voice spoke behind you, "the pistachio crème chocolate is an excellent choice."

Startled, you turned, your gaze falling on a man standing a few steps away. Tall and lean, he exuded an understated confidence that was both intimidating and captivating. Dark hair fell in against his forehead, and sharp hazel-green eyes, softened by gold flecks peered at you from behind thin-framed glasses. His white doctor’s coat was open, revealing a simple black shirt beneath, and he held a small paper bag in one hand.

You blinked, caught off guard by both his suggestion and his presence. "Oh, uh… thank you," you stammered, trying not to sound as flustered as you felt. "I’ll… I’ll try that."

The shopkeeper nodded and carefully packed your selection as you stole another glance at the stranger. There was an air of calm authority about him, a quiet assurance that made you feel oddly exposed, like he could see straight through you.

He waited patiently as the shopkeeper handed you your bag, but just as you were about to leave, his voice cut through the quiet again—this time, more direct. "Chocolates shouldn’t be your first meal of the day."

The statement was delivered without malice, his tone stoic and matter-of-fact, yet it hit like a stone to the chest. Your lips parted in shock, the question forming before you could stop it: How does he know? But before you could say anything, he was already moving toward the door. The bells jingled softly as it closed behind him, leaving you standing frozen in place. The stranger’s words lingered, intertwining with the rest of your messy emotions. Your fingers clenched the small bag of chocolates as you tried to process the brief encounter.

A soft gleam on the floor caught your attention, breaking your spiraling thoughts. A wallet, its sleek leather worn but well-kept, lay just inches from where the man had stood. You knelt and picked it up, your heart thudding as you opened it to check for identification.

The name embossed on his hospital ID was like a jolt: Dr. Zayne. Your eyes widened. Doctor Zayne? The name was familiar—a renowned surgeon whose skills and precision were legendary, often described as a miracle worker. You’d imagined someone older, more weathered, not… this.

For a moment, you stared at the ID, piecing together the puzzle of the composed, enigmatic man who had called you out so effortlessly. You tried the number listed on a card tucked into his wallet, but it rang unanswered, the sterile monotone only adding to your frustration.

"Of course, he wouldn’t answer," you muttered under your breath, chewing your lip as you debated your next move. The idea of keeping his wallet overnight felt wrong, and leaving it here in the shop seemed equally careless.

That left one option.

The hospital loomed ahead as you approached, its towering structure illuminated against the evening sky. Anxiety gnawed at your insides, twisting with every step you took through the sterile white halls. You weren’t sure why you felt so on edge—maybe it was the overwhelming sense of inadequacy that had been haunting you lately, or maybe it was the lingering impression of Zayne’s knowing gaze.

At the reception desk, you hesitated, gripping the wallet tightly as you cleared your throat. "Hi, um, I’m here to return something for Dr. Zayne. He… accidentally dropped this."

The receptionist barely looked up, taking the wallet with a polite but indifferent smile. "Dr. Zayne isn’t in right now. I’ll make sure he gets this when he’s back."

"Oh," You nodded, murmuring a quick thanks before retreating back toward the exit. You thought nothing of this interaction as you left. You did what you thought was right and left the hospital back towards your apartment.

The days blurred together in a haze of work and routine. You buried yourself in assignments from the Hunter’s Association, throwing yourself into dangerous missions with a single-minded intensity. Anything to keep your mind occupied.

Sylus messaged you once during that time, his tone professional as he asked for updates regarding a lead he was tracking. You’d responded quickly, sticking strictly to business. No pleasantries, no banter—just the information he needed. He didn’t press, didn’t call you out for your uncharacteristic coldness. Maybe he didn’t notice. Or maybe he did and chose not to say anything.

That night, you jogged through the dimly lit streets, your breath fogging in the cool air as you tried to exorcise the restless energy gnawing at you. The rhythmic slap of your sneakers against the pavement was grounding, steady. Jogging had always been your go-to, a way to clear your head and silence the endless stream of "what-ifs" and "if-onlys" that plagued your mind.

You shook your head, annoyed at yourself. There was no point in dwelling. Sylus wasn’t the kind of person to give you what you wanted, and even if he did, could you trust it? Could you trust him?

But no amount of movement could completely shake Sylus from your thoughts.

His voice, his presence—it clung to you, even now.

Why didn’t he ask how I’ve been? Why didn’t I?

The sound of skidding tires yanked you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“Look out!”

Before you could process the warning, a cyclist veered wildly toward you, their momentum too strong to stop. There wasn’t even time to brace yourself. The impact hit like a freight train, and suddenly, you were on the ground, tangled with the bike and its rider. Pain blossomed sharp and hot in your knees as the asphalt scraped them raw.

For a moment, you just lay there, stunned. The world tilted unsteadily, the city lights smearing together like a watercolor painting.

“Hey, you okay?” The cyclist’s voice snapped you back. They were scrambling off you, helmet slightly askew but otherwise unscathed. You shook your head to clear it, wincing as you sat up. You pushed yourself up, shaking the dizziness from your head, and checked on the cyclist who had crashed into you. They were already scrambling to their feet, looking slightly dazed but otherwise unharmed, their helmet and guards having done their job.

“I’m fine,” you managed, even as your knees throbbed in protest. “Are you?”

“Yeah, thanks to the gear,” they said, pulling off their helmet to inspect a small crack along its surface. “Guess it did its job.”

Relief washed over you. “Good. Let me just—”

“Wait.” A different voice cut in, firm but calm. You stood there, still trying to regain your bearings when a figure appeared beside you, moving with a grace that immediately caught your attention. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw who it was. Dr. Zayne. The same man who had crossed your path in the chocolatier's shop just days ago. His sharp eyes locked onto yours, and for a split second, everything else seemed to vanish. His expression shifted from mild surprise to something more concerned as he took in your state.

Without saying a word, he immediately began assessing you, his gaze narrowing at the blood now staining your knees. You winced, feeling the sting of the cuts that had begun to bloom with a fiery intensity, but you were determined not to show it. You were used to pain—used to the sharp discomfort that came with being a hunter. You didn’t need help. You could handle this on your own. You’d always been able to.

But Dr. Zayne wasn’t having any of it.

His voice, low and steady, broke through the haze of your thoughts. "You’re bleeding. Those need first aid," he said firmly, his frown deepening as he glanced at your scraped knees. "Sit. Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute."

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him you were fine, but the words caught in your throat. He wasn’t asking. His tone, though gentle, was authoritative—demanding in its own quiet way. There was something about the way he carried himself, that calm, unflinching presence, that made it impossible to argue.

"I’m fine, I am a hunter." you managed to say, your voice rougher than you intended. "I can handle it at home. Really." You tried to force a reassuring smile

“Is this a hunter thing?” he interrupted, one brow arching skeptically. “Are all of you this stubborn about basic care, or is it just you?”

The words should have been biting, but his tone was almost... patient. Like he was accustomed to dealing with difficult people.

You flushed, suddenly hyper-aware of the sting in your knees and the heat of his gaze. “I’m not being stubborn,” you muttered. “I just don’t want to bother anyone over something so small.”

“Small injuries have a way of turning into bigger problems,” he said, folding his arms. “And I’m not bothered. As a doctor, I’m asking you to wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Without waiting for your protest, he turned and strode off, leaving you no room to argue.

You sat stiffly on the bench, gripping the edge as the minutes dragged on. The ache in your knees was nothing compared to the gnawing discomfort blooming in your chest. Anxiety clawed at you, whispering insidious doubts.

He’s wasting his time on you.He probably thinks you’re pathetic and weak.Why couldn’t you have just gotten up and left?

Your fingers curled into fists, the tension radiating through your body.

The sound of footsteps interrupted your spiraling thoughts, and Dr. Zayne was back, carrying a small first aid kit. He knelt in front of you without a word, his hands steady as he cleaned the cuts on your knees. The gentle pressure of his fingers as he worked felt almost surreal. His silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was just… calm. You found yourself drawn to it, to the quiet that seemed to settle around him.

"You’re lucky," he said, glancing up at you as he bandaged your knees. "That could’ve been a lot worse."

You nodded, the words caught in your throat. There were so many things you wanted to say, things you wanted to ask him, but you didn’t know where to start. So you remained silent, watching as he finished his work, his hands moving with the practiced precision of someone who had seen too many injuries to count.

When he was done, he straightened up and met your gaze. "You should be more careful," he said softly, his voice a little lighter than before, though there was still a note of concern underlying his words. "Next time, don’t run so late at night. You never know what could happen."

You forced a tight smile, the words feeling like they were coming from someone else. "I’ll keep that in mind," you said, your voice quieter now.

Dr. Zayne took a step back after finishing the bandages, his sharp gaze softening ever so slightly as he packed the first aid kit. You glanced at him, your mouth opening to thank him, but before you could get the words out, he said, almost in unison, “Thank you.”

Both of you froze, the simultaneous expressions of gratitude hanging awkwardly in the air. A surprised laugh slipped out of you, breaking the tension.

“You first,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “I was just going to say thank you for… you know, helping with this.” You gestured vaguely toward your knees, the bandages clinging to your skin. “You didn’t have to.”

The moment stretched between you, awkward yet somehow comforting. Zayne gave a small, almost amused smile at the simultaneous gratitude, but his gaze softened when it landed on you, his concern still present.

"Thank you for returning my wallet," he said, his tone steady but with a hint of appreciation.

His words caught you off guard. “Oh, right! That. It wasn’t a big deal, really.” You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, avoiding his gaze. “I found it at the chocolatier shop. I figured it was better to bring it to the hospital than leave it lying around.”

He nodded thoughtfully, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “I appreciate it. Not many people would go out of their way like that.”

You tried not to let his kindness throw you off, but it wasn’t easy. There was something about Zayne that made you feel... small in a way you didn’t like to feel. He was kind, yes, but that kindness made you wonder if you were deserving of it. Why should you be the one he cared about?

But before you could dwell on that any further, his voice cut through your swirling thoughts.

"Have you eaten today?" His tone was light, but there was an edge of sincerity beneath it, one that made your stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with hunger. It reminded you of that conversation in the shop, of how he had so effortlessly read through your tiredness.

The sheepish look that crossed your face must’ve been obvious, because Zayne sighed, the sound so deep that it almost felt like a reprimand. He pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture that was both familiar and surprisingly endearing.

“You’ve got to take care of yourself,” he said, his voice almost too gentle for the weight of his words. “It’s not healthy to go without food, especially if you’re going to keep running around like you hunters do.”

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him it wasn’t a big deal, but Zayne didn’t give you the chance.

"There’s a diner close by. It’s the least I can do to thank you for returning my wallet."

You shook your head instinctively, trying to backpedal. "It’s really not necessary," you said, but Zayne wasn’t having any of it. His eyes were firm, and there was an undeniable warmth behind them that almost made you feel guilty for refusing.

"Yes, it is," he replied, his tone steady but with a hint of finality. "Now, come on.”

You hesitated for a moment, the unease building in your chest like a brick wall, but the thought of Zayne’s calm, commanding presence made it impossible to say no. So, with a quiet sigh, you relented.

"I’ll pay," you muttered as he led the way, the words almost reflexive. You always felt like you had to pay your way—like it was your responsibility to do so, especially with someone who had helped you, even in the smallest of ways. You were used to standing on your own two feet.

Zayne only gave you a side glance, his lips quirking up in the barest of smiles. "No, you won’t. It’s my thank you, remember?"

The diner wasn’t far from where you had been, a cozy, low-lit place with a soft hum of quiet conversations and the clink of silverware against plates. The familiar scent of warm food—steak, mashed potatoes, and the unmistakable aroma of fresh bread—immediately filled the air as you stepped inside. You followed Zayne to a small booth in the back, the vinyl seats creaking under your weight as you slid in.

You wanted to say something—thank you, maybe—but the words felt stuck, trapped somewhere in the pit of your stomach, along with everything else that had been piling up for weeks. Zayne didn’t seem to notice, his focus already turning to the menu as he gestured for you to pick something.

You wanted to ask him more, to understand him in the same way you understood the empty streets you ran through, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just end up looking foolish. So, instead, you stared at the menu in front of you, unable to focus on the choices, as your mind churned with questions that had no answers.

Zayne ordered for both of you, his voice low as he made his choices, and when he looked at you, you caught a flicker of something—perhaps curiosity, or was it concern? It was hard to tell.

"You should eat more regularly," he said again, as though the words were a reminder he had to repeat for his own peace of mind. You nodded, letting the silence fill the space between you for a moment.

The food arrived, warm and satisfying, and you took a bite, surprised at how hungry you were despite the earlier denials. Zayne watched you for a moment, his gaze softening as you ate, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. His concern, his care—it felt too much. You weren’t used to people worrying about you.

But as the meal went on, you found yourself starting to relax, the initial tension loosening from your shoulders. Zayne was easy to talk to, his calm, steady presence settling you in a way you hadn’t expected. By the end of the meal, you felt... lighter.

"Call me Zayne," he said when the check came, his voice quiet but sincere.

You blinked, a little caught off guard by the request. "Zayne?" you echoed, testing the name on your tongue.

"Yes," he replied with a small, patient smile. "It’s easier than 'Dr. Zayne,' don’t you think?"

You blinked, taken aback. “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve earned the title—”

“And I’ll still have it in the hospital,” he interrupted, amusement flickering in his eyes. “But here, it’s just Zayne.”

You nodded slowly, testing the name in your mind. It felt strange, almost too personal. But there was something grounding about it, too.

By the time dessert arrived, the knot of anxiety in your chest had loosened considerably. The warmth of the diner, the steady cadence of his voice, and the shared laughter over a poorly made joke had a way of pulling you out of your own head. For the first time in what felt like weeks, you weren’t obsessing over your failures or doubts.

As you finished your meal, Zayne pulled out his phone and slid it across the table. “Here,” he said simply. “Add your number. In case you ever need anything.”

You hesitated, the gesture feeling far more intimate than it probably was. But his expression was patient, expectant, and you found yourself entering your contact information before you could overthink it. When you handed the phone back, his lips twitched into a faint smile.

“Thanks again for returning my wallet,” he said, his tone lighter now. “And for the company.”

You felt your cheeks flush, but this time, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “It’s not a problem,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips.

As you stepped out of the diner and into the cool night air, a strange sense of calm settled over you. Zayne walked you to the corner where your paths would diverge, his presence steady and reassuring.

“Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice softer now, almost intimate.

“You too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The diner’s warmth lingered even as you stepped into the cool night air. For the first time in what felt like weeks, your chest didn’t feel as tight, the oppressive weight that had been bearing down on you now lifting slightly. You still felt the ache of Sylus’ absence—a hollow, gnawing sensation that seemed to creep in whenever you let your guard down, but it wasn’t as suffocating as it had been. Instead, a new sensation fluttered in its place, tentative and fragile: excitement. It was strange to feel this way, to look forward to the possibility of a friendship formed under such unlikely circumstances. Zayne’s calm demeanor, his steady presence, had surprised you.

As you walked, the sound of fluttering wings caught your attention. Instinctively, your heart skipped, your mind jumping to Mephisto. You tilted your head to the dark sky, half-expecting to see the telltale silhouette of his familiar. But it was just a cluster of pigeons, their wings catching the faint glow of the streetlights as they soared away.

Right. Of course. It was unlikely that Sylus was watching you tonight.

You exhaled, a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, and forced your thoughts away from him. Zayne had offered you a rare moment of normalcy, and you weren’t about to let your memories of Sylus overshadow that.

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The following weeks were a blur of activity, and before long, you found yourself stationed at an outpost on the outskirts of Linkon. A metaflux surge had disrupted the area, and the temporary makeshift hospital was bustling with injured workers, hunters, and even a few civilians caught in the chaos. The air was thick with tension, the metallic tang of metaflux faint but persistent, a reminder of the unseen dangers that lurked just beyond the safety of the encampment.

Zayne was assigned as the doctor for the outpost, and you often found yourself crossing paths with him. At first, your interactions were brief—a nod here, a shared glance there—but over time, you began to talk. It started with simple pleasantries, discussions about the metaflux readings or the influx of patients, but it wasn’t long before the conversations deepened.

You learned that Zayne had a dry sense of humor, his sharp wit often catching you off guard. He’d tease you about your stubbornness, and you’d retort with a quip about his overly serious nature. Despite his professionalism, there was a warmth to him, a quiet compassion that made him easy to trust. And though you’d never admit it, you found yourself looking forward to those moments of shared laughter, those fleeting glimpses of something lighter amidst the chaos.

But even as your friendship with Zayne grew, Sylus lingered at the edges of your thoughts, a shadow you couldn’t quite shake. The conversations you had with him were sparse and strictly work-related—updates from the Association, bits of intel you passed along to him. It felt transactional, a far cry from the intimacy you once shared. Yet, every time his name appeared on your screen, your heart still raced, betraying the fragile boundaries you’d tried to set.

One evening, a message from Sylus broke the monotony of your routine.

‘Come over tomorrow night, Darling. I have an exquisite wine I’d like you to try—procured it during a recent deal.’

The invitation was simple, almost casual. For a moment, you imagined it—the rich scent of wine filling the air, his sharp yet alluring gaze fixed on you as he poured you a glass. But reality quickly crept in, dragging you back to the present. You couldn’t go. You couldn’t risk it. Not when your heart was still so fragile, still aching in ways you didn’t want to admit.

You stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as your mind raced. The truth was, you wanted to see him. But you knew better. You had to keep your distance—for your own sake, if nothing else.

‘I’m tired..'

You typed, the words feeling hollow as they formed.

'Busy day tomorrow. Maybe another time.’

You hesitated before hitting send, the weight of the message pressing down on you. When his reply came, it was as simple as his invitation.

‘Okay.’

The finality of it hit you like a brick, and for a moment, you felt like your breath had been stolen away. He didn’t push. He didn’t argue. That empty “okay” hung in the air, leaving you with the quiet realization that, once again, you had lost yourself in the haze of someone else’s world.

You tried not to read too much into it, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he had already moved on. That he didn’t care enough to fight for your attention. Instead, it felt like you were just a passing thought, like an aftertaste that wasn’t worth savoring.

Miss Hunter. The words echoed in your mind. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the tears to stay behind your eyelids, but they pressed hard, a sting that never seemed to fully fade. You rubbed your forehead, trying to push away the thoughts. But even as you did, you couldn’t escape the suffocating feeling in your chest—the one that always came when you were reminded of how little you meant to him. You felt foolish, but you couldn’t help it. It was like you were always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to come back, to pull you back into his orbit with that practiced charm, that voice that made you feel wanted, if only for a little while.

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The dinner with Zayne had been a welcome reprieve. It had been two weeks since you last saw him, the demands of work pulling both of you in different directions. But tonight, seated across from him in a small, cozy bistro, you found solace in the familiar rhythm of your conversations. The mellow lights softened the sharp angles of his face as he recounted a mishap earlier in the week involving a particularly irritable patient.

His dry humor, paired with the subtle lift of his brow, drew a laugh from you—a genuine, light sound that felt foreign after the weight of recent days. For a while, the world outside blurred away. You weren’t Miss Hunter; you weren’t anything other than a person sharing a meal with a friend.

As the meal wound down, Zayne looked at you over the rim of his glass, his expression calm. “You’re doing better than when we first met.” he remarked softly.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Am I?”

He nodded. His calm demeanor always had a way of grounding you, and tonight was no exception.

The meal wrapped up with the two of you trading small updates and light banter. You paid for your half of the meal, Zayne insisting it wasn’t necessary, but you’d insisted back. There was a sense of normalcy here, something you weren’t willing to let go of easily. When you parted ways outside the diner, the night air was cool and quiet. Zayne’s warm farewell echoed softly in your ears as you waved goodbye and headed back toward your apartment.

As you walked, you felt lighter somehow. The stress of the past few weeks hadn’t vanished, but Zayne’s steady presence had reminded you of something important—moments of peace still existed, even in the chaos.

The faint scent of lavender greeted you as you unlocked your apartment door, a hint of the candle you’d left burning earlier. The lights were off, and the air felt too still—unnaturally so. Your heart skipped, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. A lump formed in your throat, panic curling its fingers around your chest.

You flicked the light switch, and the sudden brightness flooded the room, revealing the figure sitting on your couch. Sylus.

You froze. Your body stiffened, caught between fight or flight.

Your yelp of surprise filled the space, your pulse racing as you clutched the doorframe for support. “What—Sylus? What are you doing here?”

He was sitting on your couch, one arm draped casually along the backrest, his other hand resting on his knee. The dim light of the room softened the sharp edges of his face, but his expression was anything but gentle. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, tracked your every movement as if he were dissecting you with just a glance.

“How—what are you doing here?” you stammered, your voice shaky as your pulse raced.

Sylus didn’t respond right away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his gaze dragging over you slowly, deliberately. His silence was louder than any words he could have spoken, and it made your skin prickle.

“Darling,” he finally murmured, his voice low and smooth, laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “You look… exhausted.”

You blinked, still standing frozen by the door. His tone was soft, almost tender, but it was the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers tapped against his knee, that betrayed his underlying tension.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, your voice wavering as you took a cautious step forward. “It’s been a long day. What are you doing here?”

Sylus leaned back, the leather of the couch creaking faintly under his weight. “A long day,” he echoed, his lips curving into a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yet you had time for dinner.”

“I…” you faltered, scrambling for a response. “It was just…”

“Just dinner,” he interrupted smoothly, his tone unreadable. “With… someone else.”

The air felt thick, charged with a tension that made your skin prickle. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words stuck in your throat. His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression still calm but his body language telling a different story. The way his fingers drummed against his knee, the slight clench of his jaw, the flicker of something dark in his gaze.

Your heart pounded, your thoughts racing. Why was he here? What did he want? And why did his presence—his very existence in your space—make your chest ache in that familiar, suffocating way?

“I didn’t think…” You stopped yourself, your voice trembling. “You didn’t say you’d be coming by. You can’t just—”

“Can’t just what?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft as he rose from the couch, his movements fluid and deliberate. “Show up to see what’s wrong?”

Your breath hitched as he closed the distance between you, his height and presence suddenly overwhelming. “Nothing’s wrong…”you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Is that so?” he murmured, tilting his head slightly, his eyes boring into yours. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you’ve been avoiding me, Darling.”

The accusation hung in the air, sharp and unyielding.

“I’ve been busy…” you said weakly, your voice lacking conviction.

“Busy,” he repeated, his gaze flicking over you again, this time with something close to disdain. “Too busy for me, but not too busy for… him.”

Your hands fidgeted at your sides, your breath coming in shallow bursts. You wanted to move, to put distance between you, but your legs felt rooted to the spot. “I didn’t think dinner with a friend would..”

“Friend?” he interrupted, the single word slicing through your sentence. His lips curved into something that might have been a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs, the anxiety swirling in your chest mixing with something else—something raw and painful that you didn’t want to name. The memories of your last exchange with Sylus came flooding back—the curt messages, the unspoken finality of his “okay.” You had tried to convince yourself that it didn’t matter, that you didn’t need his validation. But standing here now, under the weight of his gaze, you felt every crack in the fragile walls you had built to keep him out.

“I don’t understand what you want from me,” you said finally, the words trembling as they left your lips.

His eyes softened slightly, but the tension in his posture didn’t ease. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, something important, but the moment passed as quickly as it came. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a gesture so gentle it felt almost foreign.

“Don’t make me feel like I’m a stranger to you.” he said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability that made your chest ache.

Don’t make me feel like I’m a stranger to you. The words echoed in your mind, repeating, twisting, until all you could hear was the raw edge of betrayal laced in his tone.

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and bitter, a little too loud in the quiet of your apartment. Your chest tightened, and for a moment, you felt the space around you grow smaller. You couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think. All you could feel was the heat of anger building inside of you, raw and unrefined.

“That’s rich,” you scoffed, finally managing to find your voice. “That’s really rich, coming from you of all people.”

Sylus blinked, a subtle flash of surprise crossing his face, but it quickly masked over. His lips tightened, his brow furrowed ever so slightly, but it wasn’t enough. You had to push, you couldn’t hold back now. The words were tumbling out before you could even stop them. Your breath hitched, a strangled sob lodged somewhere in the back of your throat, but you refused to let it spill. You wouldn’t let him see you break—not like this, not in front of him. You knew the truth. He knew the truth. It hurt, yes, but you weren’t the one to blame.

“You've been treating me like a stranger for months,” you continued, your voice trembling with anger you hadn't fully realized was there. “Barely responding to my messages, not answering my calls, and when I do see you, it’s like you can’t be bothered. You don’t even see me.” You felt the weight of every unreturned message, every unanswered call, every promise left in limbo. “I’ve had to hear from Luke and Kieran that you’re in Linkon. But you couldn’t even make time to see me.”

You felt the ache deep in your chest, that familiar, suffocating knot forming. He didn’t deserve your pain. Not anymore. You wouldn’t let him have that. Not this time.

You took a shaky breath, suddenly feeling raw, exposed. “You don’t have to feel obligated to check on me, Sylus,” you said, your words clipped and cutting through the thick silence between you. “You don’t have to feel pity for me. I know where I stand. I know my place in your life.”

His expression, that unreadable mask, cracked for the briefest of moments. His lips parted, his gaze flicking to your face, then back down to the floor. His jaw clenched. But his eyes… They weren’t the same as they’d been earlier. The hardness was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous, something even more intimate. The storm was gathering, but it wasn’t just in the air—no, it was inside him too.

“You know where you stand?” His voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it, a slight tightness you hadn’t noticed before. He took a step forward, his body closing the space between you, like a wave of raw energy crashing toward you. His proximity only made your pulse race faster, but you couldn’t back down. Not now.

“I’m just an informant, right?” you bit out, every word feeling like it sliced through the night air, cutting through the tension like a blade. “You don’t have to pretend you care, Sylus. So don’t stand there with that look on your face like I’m some important thing you need to check on.”

The air between you grew heavy, thick with unsaid words and stifled tension. Every inch of your body was telling you to get away, to shut down, to stop this before it tore you apart. But your feet felt heavy, stuck in place. Sylus’s presence was like gravity, pulling you toward him.

"You think that's all you are?" he murmured, his voice dangerously low, like the calm before the thunder. The way he said it made your heart stutter in your chest. It was both a question and an accusation or a challenge.

But there was something else in his voice. Something you couldn’t quite place. His eyes were intense, too intense, and they searched yours like he was looking for the answer. The truth.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he continued, his words clipped, as though they were difficult for him to say. “But I couldn’t....couldn’t make sense of it. Of you.”

It was the first time that he seemed genuinely vulnerable, and it left you breathless and confused. You had always wondered if there was more beneath his cold exterior. You had always told yourself that he cared. But you had never dared to confront him.

His hand was close enough now to reach out, his fingers barely brushing the edge of your wrist. The air between you was still thick with everything unsaid, everything unhealed. And yet, despite the words that had been thrown between you, there was something undeniably magnetic in the tension. The ache in your chest, the rawness, the feelings of betrayal—they didn’t wash away just because you said them out loud.

God, you hated him for this.

But part of you yearned for him. That part that still felt tethered to him, despite the distance.

Sylus’s fingers hovered over your wrist, his touch like fire against your skin. For a moment, the storm between you calmed, leaving only the faintest echo of it behind. The weight of his gaze, the force of his presence—it seemed to drown out the rest of the world.

He said nothing for a moment, his lips parting as though he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. His eyes darkened further, not with anger now, but with something you couldn’t quite define.

You took a breath, your body suddenly feeling too small beneath his gaze. The storm was still inside. You had to move away. Your heart pounded as if it were trying to escape your chest, desperate to flee from whatever was stirring inside you. You couldn't—no, you wouldn’t—let yourself get caught up in whatever this feeling was. You were not some fool, ready to throw everything away for the temporary pull of his presence. You knew better than that. You had to.

Every instinct screamed at you to retreat, to put some distance between you and the mess of emotions bubbling under your skin. His sharp gaze was enough to make your knees tremble, and it took everything in you not to look back, not to let him see the quiet devastation that flickered inside you.

“You need to leave… Sylus.” You whispered. You staggered back a few steps, your breathing shallow, desperate. Your feet felt like lead, yet you forced yourself to walk away. You turned your back to him, willing your legs to move, hoping to escape before you got sucked into whatever dark vortex of feelings he was drawing you into.

He didn’t move. Instead, you heard the familiar click of his boots against the floor as he took a single, deliberate step forward. “Why?” His voice, low and curious, sent a shiver down your spine. It was almost too intimate, as if he were searching for a piece of you, trying to understand what you couldn’t explain.

You didn’t want to look at him. Didn’t want to see the quiet confusion on his face—the faint flicker of disappointment that stung like salt in an open wound. You couldn’t let him see your weakness, couldn’t let him know how badly it hurt to be around him, how badly it hurt not to be around him.

“Is it so you can run back to your precious ‘friend’?” The words dripped with something unspoken, something that made your stomach twist.

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t. Not when his voice—that voice, the one that threaded through the air like silk—was digging into your mind like this. The word echoed in your ears, almost mocking you, and you felt something fragile snap inside you. The weight of the years you’d spent keeping distance, of guarding your heart against him, against whatever he made you feel, started to unravel. But you couldn’t let it.

You took another step away from him. One more step, you told yourself. Just one more. You didn’t need this.

Dark tendrils wrapped around you as you move, pulling you back. He was using his evol to pull you back. You didn’t need him pulling you in again. But then it came. That touch. He pulled you to him, forceful yet intimate, and your breath caught in your throat. You were too close. Too close to the edge of losing yourself, of falling into his presence.

His hands...no, his fingers—snaked around your waist before you even knew what was happening. You gasped, body going stiff in surprise, but his grip tightened, pulling you back into him. You tried to keep moving, tried to pull away, but it was useless. His hold was ironclad, his presence consuming. His grip tightened slightly, but there was an almost comforting pressure there, a subtle reminder that despite the dispute between you, there was something undeniable between the two of you.

“Why are you running?” His voice was a whisper against your ear, the words smooth like silk, but there was something jagged beneath them—something urgent, raw.

You struggled to hold yourself together, but the more you fought it, the more it pulled—this unbearable need to lean into him, to give in to the chaos that his proximity stirred in you. You knew you shouldn’t, but everything in you wanted to. You felt the ache of wanting something you couldn't have, the sting of the distance you had put between you and the thing that was somehow both poison and relief.

His hands tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over your ribs in a movement that sent a jolt through your entire system. The words you wanted to say, the reasons you needed to get away from him, all felt so small and pointless now. How could you possibly explain this? This tension, this pull? How could you say that being near him felt like the most excruciating thing in the world, but also the only thing that made you feel alive?

“You’re not just an informant to me,” he breathed, his words slipping under your skin, curling into the tight spaces of your chest. “I didn’t realize I was hurting you this much. That you’d want to distance yourself from me...” His tone softened at the end, but it only made everything worse. The tenderness in his voice—his tenderness—was like a dagger in your side, making the blood in your veins freeze. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could hear was the deafening rush of your own heartbeat. You tried to stay composed, but the words were caught in your throat, and your body was still pressed so tightly against his, your breath shallow, your pulse thudding painfully against your ribs.

Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t you just say it—say that you couldn’t let him get close again? That you couldn’t survive another wound, another aching, empty feeling in your chest because of him? But the way his hands tightened, the warmth of his body against yours, made everything you were feeling a little too real.

You could feel his heartbeat against your back, the rhythm in sync with your own, and the pull of him was growing stronger. You could feel your anxiety bubbling up, the gnawing fear at the pit of your stomach. Was this just him toying with you? Was he trying to pull you into his world of darkness and manipulation? Or did he really care?

Your head was spinning. The emotions warred within you—anger, confusion, guilt, and something else. Something that made your heart race faster and your thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.

“Let me go,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm that raged around you.

But you didn’t pull away. You didn’t push him off.

Sylus' grip on you tightened, his arm like a steel band around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. His chest rises and falls against your back as his breath brushes against your ear, warm and heavy. It’s as if he’s afraid, like if he lets go for even a second, he’ll lose you forever. You can feel the tension radiating from him, but also something softer, something desperate.

“No, Darling,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with emotion, his tone possessive, as though the very idea of you slipping away shatters him. “You’re not going anywhere and neither am I.”

"You’re going to stay," He pulls you even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks again, quieter this time, but laced with something raw and vulnerable. "...and you’re going to listen to me. I won’t let you walk away from this."

You can hear the flicker of something beneath his words—regret. And then, his lips ghost over the sensitive skin of your neck, lingering just a little longer than necessary. He slowly spins you around, to face him. His voice softens, almost apologetic. “I know I was a dick. I know I didn’t respond to you, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know how to handle it… handle us. It confused me, and instead of facing it, I pushed you away.” His breath catches slightly, and you feel his chest tighten against your back.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, tilting your face slightly toward him, his thumb brushing over your skin as though it’s a promise, an apology. The weight of his gaze is intense, but there’s also something tender there, something that wants to pull you back in, closer. “I know you’re still hurting, darling. I see it. And I... I’ll spend a lifetime making up for it, because that’s what I want. A lifetime. With you. Not as some informant or some... thing, but as my beloved. You. By my side. Always.”

He pauses, letting his words hang in the air between you. His voice drops, the quiet sorrow of his confession sending a twinge of guilt through you. "I don’t have the right to ask this of you, I know," Sylus continues, his voice thick with emotion. "But seeing you push me away… It’s harder than I ever thought it would be. Harder than I want to admit." He presses his forehead lightly against your temple, his breath shaky. "I’ve never needed someone the way I need you, and I didn’t know how to tell you that. But I do. I need you."

You can feel him tense slightly, the shift in his demeanor telling you that his thoughts have turned darker. His voice lowers, the jealousy evident in the way he speaks, though it’s wrapped in a softness that almost makes it harder to bear.

"And Dr. Zayne... I can’t stand the thought of him being so close to you," Sylus adds, his voice low and thick with a possessiveness that unsettles you in its intensity. "It kills me, you know? Watching him with you, hearing you laugh like that with him, as if I don’t even exist." His arm tightens again, almost painfully, as if he needs to remind you, remind both of you, where you truly belong. "I know I have no claim on you... but... I can't help but feel like there’s a part of you that wants him in a way that... I can't compete with." His voice hardens, jealousy dripping from every word. "It eats at me, knowing he has a part of you that I’m fighting for."

"Sylus..." Your voice cracked slightly as you repeated his name, your breath hitching, caught in the tension between you. His name felt heavy on your tongue, like it was both a question and an answer. You had never said it so quietly, so vulnerably. The memories of earlier came rushing back—him with her, that delicate smile he gave her, the way she leaned into him just a little too comfortably. It had burned in your chest, the jealousy creeping in with a venomous ache.

The words tumbled out before you could stop them, too fast to gather, too painful to hide. "I felt the same... when I saw you with her," you confessed, swallowing thickly. "I felt so... so useless, Sylus. When I saw you with her, it felt like... like she was everything you needed. Better than me. And that... it broke me, Sylus. I felt like I wasn’t enough, like I wasn’t... worth it.”

The words stung, bitter and unrelenting, but the weight of them was finally lifted as you let them spill out. You felt exposed, naked in your insecurity, but somehow, it was all you could do to stand there and wait for him to respond. You could feel the weight of it, of how small you’d felt in that moment, how unworthy you had become in your own eyes. The self-doubt gnawed at your insides, each thought of her with him twisting like a knife in your gut.

Sylus’s expression softened, his features melting into a tender sadness, as though he were seeing you for the first time, truly seeing you. His hand reached out slowly, almost hesitantly, as if afraid to shatter the fragile space between you. His touch was a gentle comfort, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his voice a low whisper, "Darling, you're none of that... none of it, I swear."

You shook your head, feeling the tears threatening, but you couldn’t let them fall, not yet. His words were kind, but the ache in your chest was still there, an unhealed wound.

He continued, his voice steady but thick with something deeper. "I didn’t know you felt that way... about her, in the same way I feel about Zayne." His gaze met yours, and for the first time tonight, it wasn’t uncertain. It was so gentle, so soft, tender. "But you need to know, you're it for me, Darling…" he murmured, his fingers curling around yours, grounding you in the quiet storm of your emotions. "Yes, I want help from her, but..." He paused, as if weighing his words carefully, "...I need you more." His words were a balm to the wounds that had festered within you, but the tenderness in his eyes was what finally reached you. His hand slid down to your shoulder, his thumb grazing the skin there. His warmth surrounded you, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of his words. The jealousy, the insecurity that had burned so fiercely in you when you saw him with her, melted in the face of the tenderness he was offering now.

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself as your heart raced, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming. “Zayne… Zayne’s just a friend,” you said, your voice fragile but firm, “someone who helped me... helped me see past the stuff in my head. After everything, I just... needed someone to remind me that I’m not broken.”

Sylus's eyes softened even more, the depth of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. He nodded slowly, his expression filled with understanding. The tension between you didn’t disappear entirely, but it was now laced with something more tender. More real.

“You’re not broken, Darling.” he repeated, and there was a quiet strength in his voice, something that made you believe him more than you ever had before. “You’re everything I’ve ever needed... and more.”

"I... I’m sorry," you whispered, a lump in your throat as you looked up at him. "I never wanted to make you feel like I didn’t care. I just... I was afraid you’d choose her over me."

Sylus’s fingers brushed against the nape of your neck, pulling you closer, his forehead pressing gently against yours. "You never have to apologize for that, Darling." he murmured, his voice warm, his breath mingling with yours. “It was my fault and I accept that.”

The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of your breathing, as Sylus stood before you, his face drawn with intensity. The flickering light from the lamp cast soft shadows across his features, but his gaze... his gaze was sharp, focused entirely on you.

"I love you, Darling" he said, his words lingering in the air as though they were the first time he had allowed himself to say them out loud. "I’m in love with you," he confessed, his voice steady despite the raw emotion that tinged it. "I’ve been in love with you for a while now, and I’ve tried to deny it. Tried to hide it from you and myself, but I can’t anymore. I won’t. I love you, and I need you to know that."

The breath you hadn’t realized you were holding caught in your throat. Everything in you froze, then splintered. The confession, so pure, so vulnerable, hit you with a force you hadn’t been prepared for. You stood there, unable to move, a mix of surprise and relief flooding your chest.

He loves you. Sylus. The one you had longed for, yearned, and hoped for in silence. Your heart stuttered in your chest, the world around you growing impossibly still.

"I…" you whispered, voice trembling, and you had to stop, had to steady yourself before the words could spill from your lips. "I’ve love you too," you said, your voice barely more than a breath, but it carried all the weight of everything you had kept inside. "I’ve loved you, and I never told you because I was afraid. Afraid that I was asking too much. Afraid of the rejection. Afraid that I wasn’t enough."

Sylus’s expression softened, his lips curling into a frown as he stepped forward, closing the space between you. His hands reached for you, but not in the way you had feared or expected. They were gentle, his touch a plea for understanding. "Oh, darling," he whispered, shaking his head slowly. "I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you ever felt like you needed to hide it from me."

He reached up, brushing his thumb along your cheek, and you flinched slightly, your emotions suddenly overwhelming you, raw and untamed. "We’re both idiots," he continued, his voice almost tender with the weight of the admission. "We’ve been skirting around each other, afraid of saying the one thing we both needed to say."

Your laugh came out soft, almost fragile, the tension in your chest breaking for the first time since Sylus had walked into your home. It was a quiet sound, but it was the first time you’d laughed all night, the first time you’d allowed yourself to feel something other than fear or uncertainty in the past few weeks with him involved. But that laugh didn’t last long. As soon as it came, the tears followed, the ones you had been holding back for so long, finally slipping free. The dam you had built up crumbled, and before you could stop them, hot tears streamed down your face. before you could even reach up to brush them away, his hand was there, steady and warm against your cheek.

"Don’t," you whispered, your voice thick with the ache you could no longer hide. "Please, don’t look at me like this. I’m—"

"Stop," Sylus interrupted softly, his hand holding yours gently, his gaze unwavering. "Don’t hide from me. I want to see all of you… everything you’ve been hiding. I know you think I don’t see it, but I do." His eyes locked onto yours with such intensity that you couldn’t look away. "I see it when you think I’m not watching. I see the way you pull back, the way you hide the parts of you that you think I can’t handle. But I am looking. I’ve always been looking. And I don’t want you to hide anymore. Not from me. And I’m here and I want all of you."

His words were a medicine to the parts of you that had been bruised, the parts that had feared being exposed, vulnerable. But in his eyes, there was only love. No judgment. No pity. Just... love. And it was enough. It was more than enough.

The tears that had slipped down your face slowed, but they didn’t stop. You didn’t try to wipe them away this time, allowing yourself to be seen for the first time in ages. The sobs that followed were soft but trembled with relief, with something finally breaking open inside of you.

Sylus’s arms were around you in an instant, pulling you close, holding you in the kind of embrace that made you feel as though you could finally breathe, as though the weight of everything you had been carrying could finally be set down.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, almost broken. "I’ve been so scared, Sylus. Scared of this, of being cast away... of losing you."

"You’ll never lose me, Darling." he murmured, his voice firm and unwavering as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

You tilted your head back slightly, your face still damp with the remnants of the tears that had fallen, and through your wet lashes, you searched his face. Sylus held you close, his arms wrapped around you in a way that made you feel safe, even as the doubts lingered in your heart. You wanted to believe him, but the fear, the uncertainty, was still there, buried deep beneath the surface.

He must have seen it in your eyes, the way you still hesitated, the uncertainty you couldn't quite shake. Sylus made a half-frustrated sound in the back of his throat, his hands tightening around you for a split second, before they slid up to cradle your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek again, a tender, pleading touch, before he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a sudden, urgent kiss.

The kiss was unlike any other. It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t soft. It was intense, filled with desperation, as though he needed you to understand just how deeply he felt for you, just how much you meant to him. His hands cupped your face, holding you as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment, as if the world had stopped turning just for you. His lips pressed against yours with a kind of fire, but it wasn’t angry, no. It was passionate, desperate in its own way, like he wanted you to feel how important you were to him, how much you had been wanted, loved.

Your hands trembled as they reached up, gripping the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer, wanting to bridge the distance between you, as though the kiss itself could erase every lingering doubt in your heart. Your breath hitched when you felt his pulse quicken under your touch, his heartbeat matching the frantic pace of your own. Each breath you took seemed to echo in the stillness of the room, mingling with the heat of his kiss, our lips moving together with a quiet urgency, the world beyond the two of you fading into a distant blur. You felt everything—every brush of his fingers, every subtle shift of his body against yours, the way his chest rose and fell beneath your palms, how his breath felt against your lips as if he couldn’t get close enough to you.

Your chests rose and fell together, the world spinning around you. You could feel the heat of him, the urgency that still lingered in his touch, the way he kept you close, almost as if he were afraid to let go.

Breathing became an afterthought, both of you gasping for air when the kiss broke, but neither of you pulled far enough away to lose the connection. Sylus’s forehead rested against yours, his breath hot against your lips as he whispered, voice still heavy with emotion. “Every day, from henceforth, I will work to make sure you never feel the need to doubt yourself. Not in my life. Not with me." His words, slow and deliberate, sank deep into your heart like a promise he would keep.

The intensity of the moment hung between you both, the room still, save for the soft sound of your breathing as you both slowly came back to reality. But in his eyes, you saw nothing but certainty—certainty that you were enough. That you always had been.

His hand found yours again, fingers weaving with yours, and he gave it a gentle squeeze, as if the simple touch was a quiet reassurance.

"You are everything to me," he murmured, his voice steady now, grounding you as much as his embrace. "And I’ll make sure you never forget that.”

Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, absorbing his words, his warmth, his certainty. In his arms, you could feel the truth of his promise, somewhere deep inside, the doubts began to fade.

For the first time in a long time, you believed him. And when he kissed you again, this time softer, it was like the beginning of something new.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

[lawful-evil-novelist]

Fandom: The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Characters: Zaknafein Do'Urden, Tsabanor Oblodra Additional Tags: Bards, Psionics, Psychic Compulsion, Musical Compulsion, Pre-Canon, Free Real Estating a Dead Character

Tsabanor Oblodra rarely ventures from House Oblodra with a mind for making friends, but Menzoberranzan's greatest swordsman wasn't quite the accompaniment he was expecting for his nighttime musings.

[euthymiya]

The heater’s out. December’s cold is unforgiving as it seeps between the cracks of your doors and through the windows, forcing you to huddle closer.

Sukuna grunts as your freezing, icy feet press against his calves. “Your feet are fuckin’ cold. Get’em off.”

“No,” you whine, “You’re warm.”

Just to prove your point, you press them harder against his skin, making him hiss in irritation. “Quit it! It’s fucking freezing.”

“Yeah? Why are you wearing nothing but boxers in this cold, then?” You challenge, raising a brow as if you’ve sufficiently turned the tables on him. He glares at you—a bit cutely at that, given that his tussled hair and the blanket tucked beneath his chin both make him look far less intimidating than he hopes.

He pulls his legs away as he mutters, “Because I’m too used to sleeping like this.”

Your feet follow them as they move away from you, pressing them against his heated skin once more stubbornly. “To used to what, sleeping half naked? I wonder what that says about you.”

Money has been tighter. Enough that when you and Sukuna shower together, it really is to save water and not as an excuse for…well, other things. You don’t buy your little goods from the bakery on your way home sometimes anymore. He doesn’t go through his cigarette packs as quickly when stocking up on more isn’t as simple as it used to be. Things aren’t as easy as they used to be, but never hard.

It’s never hard with Sukuna.

Sure, the heater’s out. And December feels like a harsh, unrelenting reminder of that. The apartment is cold, but Sukuna is warmer, so maybe, when you count your blessings, you’re not doing all too bad.

“We should get the damn heating system fixed,” you say softly, smiling as he curls under the blanket further. He glowers over the edge of the comforter, just the tip of his nose peeking out as his muffled reply comes.

“Yeah, as if I hadn’t already thought of that. We ain’t got the funds, idiot.”

“Maybe I can pick up a few more shifts,” you murmur. He frowns at that—because really, that means more late nights where you’re not home where you should be. Safe and sound and not out there.

“Nah,” he mutters, clicking his teeth. You fight back a grin as he pulls you closer and tangles his legs with yours, grimacing when your painfully icy toes torment his poor legs again. This time he lets you, though. “I’ll figure something out.”

“That’s okay. You should use your money to get some clothes, or something. Sleeping naked in winter is not doing you any favors,” you giggle cheekily.

He raises a brow—that familiar, smug, almost nauseatingly handsome smile erupts across his lips as he chuckles lowly. “Yeah? You’re sayin’ you don’t appreciate the view?”

“Well, I guess that would be a pretty harsh loss,” you sigh deeply, pretending to wipe a tear. He rolls his eyes. You wink slyly. Heat trickles along your body from under your ribcage where the heating system could never reach.

“Cheeky, aren’t you?” He says gruffly, and a large hand comes to grab your face gently and press your cheeks together. Your puffed up lips make him crack a small smile.

“Mhm,” you nod, grinning (as much as you can through squeezed cheeks) before offering a muffled reply of, “I keep you on your toes, don’t I?”

“More like on my deathbed,” he snorts.

You don’t answer—it’s too cold to think of a reply right away.

You let out an involuntary shiver as a small wave of frigid, chilly air breezes through the room. You shuffle closer, and his arms are wide and open and waiting. He smells like cologne and coming home. Feels like warm flesh and your favorite place. You lean in and kiss him to share your body heat, pressing your lips against his and letting his tongue invade your mouth briefly. He tastes like mint mingled with cigarette smoke and oddly enough, that’s all you need.

“We kind of suck at this adulting thing,” you whisper as you pull away.

“What gives you that idea?” He hums as rough, callused fingers stroke the skin of your back under your shirt. You shiver again—this time from heat igniting your skin instead of the cold, though.

“We can hardly afford to stay warm,” you shake your head, “What does that say about us?”

“That we’re victims of this stupid fuckin’ economy. They should compensate us for our suffering.”

You roll your eyes and grin. You’re cold, but not devoid of heat. Sukuna is warm, and so are your toes against his calves, and so is that place in your chest that happens to do a squeeze here and there. You think it might be your heart—think he may have found his way to that weird, necessary organ in your body that keeps you going. But the difference is now that he’s here, you’re alive and not just living.

And yeah, the heater’s out. December is as cold as it is every year, and nothing’s going to change that. You can’t make yourself warmer, but you can be cold with Sukuna. That’s more than enough to make things bearable.

“I’ll keep you warm,” you offer, batting your lashes sweetly. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his cheeks in a flurry of kisses.

His face does a small, red flush.

“Quit it,” he snaps. He doesn’t mean it because his arms grip your hips tighter as if to keep you firmly in place. Right there where you are and where you belong and where he needs you to be.

You shouldn’t be anywhere else but here, keeping his body warm in this sorely harsh weather.

“Why? It’s already working—you’re overheating,” you tease.

He pulls the blanket up and between your faces to create a barrier as you come in for the next kiss, and when you laugh, bright and warm, he forgets he was ever cold.

————————————

Wrote this bc my place is freezing. Not because the heater is broken though it’s just because I’m too lazy to get out of bed and turn the heat up so I am suffering the same problem yes, but I do have a solution. That doesn’t mean the solution will be used though. I fear I am but just a girl

[alana-reid-2005]

we all joke about and objectify this man, but do we stop to think how sad his story is? he grew up friendless and ruthlessly bullied for being a literal genius. constantly picked on by his coworkers, and he’s never in on the joke. he’s always being laughed at, never laughed with because no one understands his existentialist humor. he never has plans or places to go on the weekend after work. he goes to work then goes to his lonely home with all his books to keep him company. on occasion, he haunts the chess table at the park or meets with an old professor. no one takes the time to appreciate his weird little quirks. no one took the time to ask him if he was okay after the several traumatic incidents he endured. no one takes care of him because everyone’s too busy leaving. he could be a male model, yet he’s never thought of himself as attractive. when he does find love, he’s brutally stripped of it before he can blink. spencer reid, the lonely genius who learned of love too late and loss too soon.

[xia0mi-c0m]

Kuroageha X Fem! Reader

Pairings: Kuroageha (Lomando/Fancy island) X Fem! Reader

KUROAGEHA PLEASE MARRY ME.

Warnings: mentioned guts and vomiting (it's not graphic but it's just said)

Just a reminder: Lomando has a lot of loud noises, jumpscares and flashing lights.

This fandom after 2020-2021: 💀💀💀💀💀

Summary: Fem Reader got jumpscared by Momm- I Mean Kuroageha and instead of leaving like she does to a lot of people just stays there, for a uncomfortable amount of time and Reader Is standing there like: 🧍‍♀️

________

MC (Let's hope I didn't summon a fandom) Pressed on the second buttons where Dai Kamuro was, that led her to a page called "Chaos", computer square window pages, one was blue eyes blinking, the others were flying across the screen, one a beating heart, one a picture of a newspaper that swirls sometimes, the other was a bunch of Eris/Ellis faces blurred, and bacteria, she clicks the blue eyes, leading her to a page called Eyes, a woman named Betty who had guts out of her stomach and blood coming out of her eyes as she had a smile only a mother could only love (A/N: /J I LOVE BETTY I PROMISE) , it made her want to puke as if the bacteria wasn't enough to make her get the ick, those eyes that were blue are now red, with red text in Dutch, Japanese romaji, Finnish, and French, she clicked the eyes again, it led her to a page called "Nyanyanyanyahn", a youtube video?

She pressed the button, static filled the screen until, a woman with very long black hair with swept side bangs , a possible black skirt with black lips and grayish white skin popped out of the screen, breaking it, with a wide smile and childlike giggle, getting way too close to her face, she wasn't moving away from her spot which was unusual since she read that she goes away after jumpscaring and leading you to a real youtube video with Yukan, but in her case, she didn't move, she just stared (A/N: as someone with AVPD and a phobia of staring that is my worse Nightmare)

Stared and stared until she finally spoke

"You're Pretty" (A/N: is it you're or your? I don't know English wasn't my first language)

That was it and she just smiled with just her lips in a 'I will be here if you need me' (A/N: I'm in my yearning era)

She disappeared. She just disappeared right there and then.

The page finally made me go to Yukan, That lady was pretty hot though, she knew that for sure. Maybe a little too hot, but whatever.

She Genuinely Forgot She Had to do Yukan's Puzzle

She has to process things first as her brain was like a potato thrown in a microwave, waiting slowly.