zylusmusings

[zylusmusings]

I know satoru had flashbacks all the time

[zylusmusings]

The day he was reborn, he devoted his entire life to finding her.

That's all Sylus cared, to be reunited with his beloved, the other half of his soul, his queen through life and death.

And when he finally found her, he vowed he would never let her go, even if she had no collection of him, even if she rejected and feared him at their supposed reunion, even if it might take him another decades for her to open her heart to him again for they are eternally bonded, defying the tragic fate that had once befall their unfortunate life.

They were meant to be and Sylus was more than willing to wait for her to return to him once more.

He had endured centuries chained to the abyss in his previous life, how would this be any difficult?

He just needed time. As much as she needs, he's willing to wait, until she's back into his arms just like before.

That was all he cared about, all he hoped for, all he wanted.

Until Sylus met you.

Was the universe out to get him? What sort of sick joke was this? The moment he locked eyes with you, standing behind the counter of the quaint flower shop, the familiar glint in your eyes sent a strong wave of déjà vu throughout him.

At first he simply mistook you as her lookalike, a doppelganger. Yeah, just someone who looked unnervingly identical to her, that has to be it, so there's no way-

"Long time no see, Sylus."

A familiar voice too - right then and there he felt like he had been sucker punched straight to the stomach, his heart beat spiked up uncontrollably, his sight fixated on yours as he remembered those familiar gaze in your eyes.

The familiar greed, the familiar desire, the familiar vengeance - so you remembered, but she didn't, but how-

How could there be two of her?

Sylus's head spun with disbelief and confusion, he couldn't bring himself to utter a single word out as he stood shell shocked in front of you. He had randomly chosen this flower shop to buy flowers for his hunter lady after his usual dealings outside of the N109 Zone, but this unexpected encounter with you just threw him extremely off guard.

Especially by how calm and composed you look, as if you hadn't just dropped the bomb of remembering your previous life together with him.

Yet the familiar fierceness in your eyes still remains, despite the ever calmness you exude around you.

And Sylus didn't know how he felt about it, about you - Ecstatic? Bewildered? Relieved? Scared?

What should he do? What is he supposed to do?

The soft hum of your voice snapped him out of his muddled thoughts, his entire body stiffened when you leaned forward, tilting your head up at him with a teasing yet mocking look - another familiar gesture that made his heart swell with longing.

"Seems like you've been faring human life quite well.."

Your voice, steady yet lighthearted trailed off purposely, just as he remembered all those lifetime ago and for a moment, Sylus felt like he was brought back to their past. Memories of the bittersweet banter and playful jabs flooded his mind, overwhelming his senses, and his heart screamed for him to pull you into his embrace, demanding where you've been all this time, why you felt so familiar but at the same time you don't and how does any of this makes sense-

But his reverie was shattered by your next words.

"..Especially having other me by your side."

—⁠ teaa's end note: i call this Split AU. another unpolished fic plot idk if I'll ever gonna write so it'll remain vague ooft (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

[zylusmusings]

Please stop..✋🚨

🙏Hello, I am Ghadeer from Gaza🇵🇸🍉, I am talking to you with tears in my eyes about what happened to my husband😭💔. My husband was seriously injured, lost his eye, and there is still a bullet in his head💔. He is unable to provide for his family's needs, and I fear for the future of his daughter, Shahad, who needs to live like all the children in the world, with milk, diapers, food, clothes, and shelter. 🙏💔Please support me and share my story for the sake of the little girl, Shahad, who needs your support and assistance.

🙏💔This is my link💔💔

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-meii

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🙏💔Please donate or share. With all respect and gratitude🙏💔.

If you have the capacity to donate ^^

[zylusmusings]

The young dragon is still alive.

The red he sees on his hands is possibly even redder than the crimson of his own eyes - God, it’s so much blood… and Sylus isn’t even a stranger to violence and blood but he swears he has never seen this much blood. Perhaps, everything is magnified now since it was her that was bleeding. She could get a paper cut, and he’d wage a war against the trees in the Amazon for causing such a grievance against his beloved. 

But this.. this is too much blood, still. Calm and collected Sylus, one has never witnessed him shaken, is now found trembling as he stares at the carmine pool surrounding them both. The smell of iron is nauseating, even for him and he feels the taste of bile threatening the back of his throat. He heaves, mouth agape in small pants while he scrambles to make sense of the situation. 

“Sw..Sweetie.. This is not right, c’mon. You have to… stop this.” He feels small, suddenly. Useless, as shaking hands continue to practically beg the wound on her chest to stop bleeding. The most powerful man of N109 zone deemed completely inadequate at this current moment. There was nothing he could do to stop the profuse bleeding, nothing he could do to save her - and he knew this deep down. 

The same young dragon who was so confused and vulnerable, whose frustration only grew as his horns continued to do the same. So shameful of his fate and destiny, yet knowing there was simply nothing he could do to change it. The same sentiments of ignominy - this time however, he feels like he’s deserving of the humiliation. Waited years upon years for her return, only for her to be dying in his arms. His beloved was going to leave him, and prayers of desperation for their roles to be reversed escapes his cracked lips.. For her to drill the claymore into the depths of his chest, again and again. Then, again and again. The only fathomable passage was for him to die and her to live for thousands and millions more years before she dies a natural painless death, after a fulfilling and happy long life - not this. 

“I don’t know what to do, I’m sorry. I am sorry, I don’t know what to do.” He apologises repeatedly, his tears dampening the hair at the top of her head as his body curls atop hers, his last desperate attempt to shield and protect her, but it’s no use. Nothing can save her. He knows that, too. This dragon is afraid and desperate.

A silent sob escapes his agape mouth, the sight of her choking on her own blood as she fights for her final breaths has him begging the Lord to shower him with mercy. He’d bear the punishment and atone for all of the sins both him and all of mankind has ever committed, if it meant that this world that his beloved would walk on was free of any atom of darkness. Let it be a safe place for her to roam and live unreservedly - because that would have been what she deserved, not this. “It should’ve been me. I’m sorry, it should’ve been me.”

And as her hand falls limp, this dragon roars in pain. 

[zylusmusings]

when i make it to heaven, my bang list is as follows:

- riftan calypse

- zayne

- sylus

- toji

- yor

- loid forger

- maximillan calypse

- nanami

- rafayel and xavier at the same time

- zayne and sylus at the same time

- flora from winx club

- silvermist

[zylusmusings]

i love reader. idc if she’s a bimbo or a crybaby or a little unhinged. good for her tbh. i love her in all shapes and forms. she is barbie. she is a doctor and a student and a barista and she can take five dicks at the same time. what a beautiful world we live in.

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they practically have confirmed Caleb's written and by the looks of it he's returning as an LI.......... i couldn't sigh louder

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it’s so funny when i actually get ads for lnds…. Like ariana… what are u doing here?

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gna write a self indulgent zayne fic where he celebrates mc’s birthday

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oh my god obsessed with toji im about to throw up

[zylusmusings]

i’m in love with the way you write! i was wondering if you could make a fix with toji and shy reader during and after an argument? you don’t have to, just throwing it out. i really love your work and i’m so glad i stumbled upon your blog! <3

Thank you for reading and enjoying my work! And thank you for sending in this request! 😊💙

Toji and his shy girl

The drive back to your place was quiet. Toji was focused entirely on the road, not making conversation or even glancing at you like he normally would with that smirk on his face that let you know how happy he was to be with you. You tried making conversation, but you were met with dry responses and hums of mere acknowledgement. You felt the familiar nervousness and anxiety, but this time it wasn't brought on by feelings of love and disbelief that someone like Toji would give the time of day to someone who is so different from him. It was like he was in his own world, and you were cropped out of it, even if you were right beside him. You decided to give it another shot. Maybe he was just in deep thought about something related to a job. He did get a call from Shiu during your time out.

"That ice cream shop we went to was pretty good. We should definitely go back there, sometime." You turn to him, a soft smile on your face as you await his response.

He looks at you through his peripheral vision, doesn't turn his head at all. "Yeah, maybe," he responds, his voice low and borderline emotionless, like his replies to you were on autopilot.

You feel a lump beginning to form in your throat as, once again, you're met with a similar response to the ones he gave you before. You nod, and shortly after shrink. You turn your body towards the car door, and nestle your clasped hands between your thighs. It's as good as you can get into a curled position, given the space you're in.

The drive continued on this way. You pinned to the door, trying to understand what was the matter, and Toji seemingly looking straight down the road. What you didn't know was that he kept glancing at you. His eyes turned in your direction every so often. Contrary to his current demeanor, he didn't like seeing you this way.

Normally, you both lifted each other up.

You, with your way of brightening his days. You make him smile and laugh by being unknowingly funny and sweet, and he just loves how doe eyed you get when his laughter turns into him pulling you into a bear hug. An embrace that conveys how much he loves and appreciates you for making him happy. Your arms are home to him. You're his teddy bear as much as he is yours, because if you wake up at night after falling asleep together and tell him that you have to drive home, he won't let you go. He just grunts and tightens his arms around you.

Toji, with his way of taking care of you and the constant reassurances he offers you. He's well aware of your internal fragility. He knows you're tough when it comes to physical pain. Cuts, scrapes, bruises? Nothing to you. You tend to them and forget they're there until you break your skin again. He knows when you haven't eaten, he knows when you're sad, he knows when you need a little push to get difficult thoughts out. He lets you think you're good at hiding these things, but in reality, all it takes is a flicker of a shift in your mood and he's working to decipher what's wrong.

The sour mood followed you both into your home. You set down all your stuff and went into your room to dress down. Whenever you're upset you like to cover yourself up to lead your invisibility. Before you got dressed into your hoodie and baggy sweatpants, you wore the cutest floral dress. Toji couldn't keep his eyes off of you as he guided you through the streets. He used his privilege of being your man to its full advantage, then. He gawked at your hips as they naturally swayed with the flowy dress and he smirked when you turned to look at him as he carefully walked you through crowds with a hand on your lower back. He relished in how beautiful you looked in that dress, feeling like it was tailored to you with how perfectly it hugged your body and how pretty your skin looked in the color.

You walked out into the living room again, sparing one glance at Toji who was already sitting on the couch, before sitting on the floor. You picked up the TV remote and made haste of choosing the show you were supposed to start together, to end the heavy and uncomfortable silence in the room.

Toji looked at your frame from behind, and felt entirely baffled by the loudness of your choice to hide in these baggy clothes. This was not the same girl who paused in the middle of the busy sidewalk to quickly kiss his cheek and turned to keep walking right after. This was not the same girl who tugged on his shirt and pointed at the single, poof of a cloud in the sky and giggled. This was not the same girl who got flustered after he wiped ice cream off the corner of her lip and licked the remnants off his thumb.

The show began, introduced by a viewer discretion that was cut off by you pausing it. You turned your entire body to look at Toji who just raised his brows in confusion.

"Can you talk to me?" You say, crossing your legs and resting your hands in your lap.

"We can't talk during a show," he says, nonchalantly.

"The show isn't playing. We can talk."

He stares at you in silence before sighing. He doesn't want to argue with you. Not only is it draining for both of you, but he hates the tension that lingers when everything is supposedly resolved. Like you're both still thinking of the way you looked at each other and the things that were said.

"Just leave it. It's fine," he says, redirecting his attention back to the TV. It's eating him up inside, but he would rather bear that than say something he doesn't mean to you.

"It's obviously not fine, Toji. You're not talking to me like you usually do. You're not even looking at me, right now."

His intense gaze goes back to you. He can see the worry in your eyes, and some part deep inside of him wants this to stop. For the events that transpired to have never happened. For a stupid do-over that would give the movie theater date a chance instead of walking through town.

"Tell me what I did wrong, because I don't know and I don't understand."

"You're not dumb. You're not oblivious, either. Which is why i'm also having trouble understanding something."

Your heart pangs at the sound of his voice. He sounds hurt and upset and he looks just like it as well. You furrow your brows, but stay silent to give him a chance to talk.

"I stepped away for a minute. You know, when Shiu called?" He takes note of the way you nod in response. You've always been so attentive to the things he says. "That call lasted less than two minutes. I thought, my girl will be fine. If someone starts chatting her up, she'll politely decline and send them on their way." He smiles at you. There's no warmth in the expression. No light, no kindness, nothing but bitter, unspoken disappointment. "The guy even moved the chair from where it was across the table, to sit right next to you. I turn around and..." he chuckles, a sound that would normally bring you so much joy, but right now makes your heart sink to the depths of your stomach. "He's touching you. He has his hand on your back and the other one on your wrist and he's leaning in like he's trying to inhale you."

You stand up and move onto the couch, keeping the distance but still leveling yourself with him. "I didn't want that. I didn't want him to touch me, I-I didn't want him to sit next to me or be near me..." You try to explain the situation as clearly as you can and fail miserably as your words jumble up. All of your thoughts want to come out and your defenses sound feeble because of it, like you're making these things up.

"Then why didn't you tell him to fuck off?" The words come out with all his stormy feelings behind them. "Why didn't you come to me? You could've walked up to me at any point," he argues, eyes wide in disbelief of your excuses.

"I didn't know how to tell him to stop. I didn't wanna make a scene and push him in front of all those people."

"Mhm, that's..." he shuts his eyes, and rubs the bridge of his nose. He can feel an oncoming headache. "...that's perfect. You handled that so well."

"I-I..." you sigh. "I told him I have a boyfriend and I even pointed at you. He just wouldn't stop." You feel the lump in your throat return, and you're trying so hard not to tear up. Your fists have been balled up since the beginning, your nails digging into your palms.

"It's fine. We talked, we're good," he says, ending the conversation. He watches as you press your lips together before moving back to the floor, and picking up the TV remote, again. Your arm raises, and the disclaimer ends, finally letting the show begin.

Toji isn't paying attention to the stupid show. He's watching you, silently hoping that you're okay. He's let down by those hopes when he sees your form tremble, and your shoulders lift. He hears a single gasped out sob and suddenly you're standing, walking out of the living room, and in the direction of your room.

"Fuck." He jumps up from the couch and trails after you. To his dismay, he hears the door shut and the lock turn immediately after. He hears your shattered heart from behind the door, the muffled sobbing coming from you. You sound like you're struggling to breathe with all the gasping and sniffling.

Toji attempts to twist the doorknob, even when he heard the sound of the lock turning clear as day. He knocks three times. "Mama?"

You don't respond, and instead put your hood on and drown yourself in the blankets.

He knocks again. "Mama, let me in." Your sniffling continues, but the sobbing has mellowed down. He knows you're not gonna get up and unlock the door for him, but truthfully, he's only knocking out of courtesy. The lock consisted of a small turn button that could easily be unlocked from the outside with a coin or a button or something much more convenient, his fingernail.

He turns the lock and twists the doorknob, immediately greeted by the sight of your shaking form through piled on blankets, and soft but clearer sniffing. He steps into the room and shuts the door, immediately directing himself to the edge of your bed. He gently strips the layers of blankets until it's just you, curled up into the smallest ball of tears. You think you're almost done crying.

"Come here, mama," he says, offering a gentle squeeze to your hip. You immediately sit up and keep your gaze down as you crawl over to his lap. As soon as you wrap your arms and legs around him, and you feel his arms holding you close, you realize you're not done crying. You're openly sobbing, again, into his chest. You're balling up the back of his shirt and squeezing him so tight as your chest heaves.

He pulls your hood down and presses kisses to the top of your head. "It's okay, baby, it's okay."

"Sorry," you mumble, your voice broken and quiet from the strained feeling in your throat.

"No. Don't apologize, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong." He feels shitty for saying similar things earlier in such a dismissive tone. You did so well at listening to his side and his feelings, he must've done a terrible job at understanding you if it led to you breaking down. "I mean it. It wasn't your fault." You've calmed down a little more, reduced to just little breaths through your nose as you listen to him talk. "I know I already told you this, but you looked so pretty today." He smiles at the feeling of you retightening your arms around him. "So, so pretty in that dress. No wonder that guy had his eyes on you."

You shake your head against him. "I wore that dress for you," you croak, not audible enough to be heard.

"What's that, princess?" He asks.

You clear your throat and try again. "I only wore the dress for you. I didn't care about anyone else. To me, it was just us two walking around."

He feels wanted. He can really feel how much you love him with that fragile, little heart of yours. He's determined to help you pick up the pieces of your heart and put it back together.

"I know, baby. It was like that for me until I saw all the people who were gawking at you." His blood boils at the memory of all the double takes. He shows you off all the time, but this was supposed to be a comfortable date. He knows better than to let those forgettable people get to him, but you're his girl. All he could think about was putting you in his pocket until you reached the places you wanted to see. "It was driving me crazy." He sighs, taking his turn to tighten his arms around you. "I'm jealous to the point of self destruction when it comes to you. You're a saint for even letting me hold you, right now."

You sit together in silence for a couple minutes. He wonders if you feel as loved by him as he does by you. He can always verbalize it to make sure, but he wants to be your solace through deeper means than just words. Your tears should never be hidden from him, regardless of whether you're arguing or you're emotional for other reasons. His arms should be the first place you fall into when your heart is aching.

"Tell me you love me, doll," he murmurs, into your hair.

You immediately comply to his simple request. It's easy to say when you mean it. "I love you, Toji."

"Mhm, I love you. Now look at me when you say it."

He can hear you giggling as you slightly pull your arms back to create some distance from him. He finally gets to look at you after what seems like hours. You have the cutest red nose and cheeks and your eyes are still a little red and slightly puffy. He thinks you look so beautiful, even after a hard cry.

He grins at the softness of your smile. Everything about you is just so gentle and soft towards him.

"I love you, Toji," you say, through a giggle. You're looking into his green eyes with clear adoration in your gaze.

"Yeah, that's the good stuff. I love you, mama," he returns, before smothering you with kisses all over your face to see how hard he can make you blush.

[zylusmusings]

Monster fucker this, monster fucker that. What if I want a monster RELATIONSHIP huh?! Monster HAND HOLDING, monster INTIMATE CONVERSATIONS, monster COMFORTABLE SILENCE??

[zylusmusings]

when the zayne fic i spent time proofreading is the least popular but the rafayel fic i whipped out in 20 mins gets over 800 notes ?

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bro tell me why jjk fans write the NASTIEST (not degradatory) smut like omfg....

[zylusmusings]

Uh...Boss?

A/N: Inspired by this post by Tonycries. It lived in my head for way too long so i had to write my own spin on it cause urrrhghghhgh Nanami. (idk how to tag ppl, maybe: @tonycries ? idk how this works)

(also, u prolly have, BUT, pleasepleaseplease go check out Tonycries, they're the best, i linked their pinned post up there)

warnings: pre established relationship. she/her pronouns.

Nanami Kento wasn’t a man of many words.

He was all sharp edges and efficiency—a no-nonsense leader who operated with surgical precision, leaving no room for pleasantries or personal connections.

In the sterile hum of the office, he was a figure of unwavering discipline. His unbreakable demeanour was as much a part of him as the neatly pressed suits he wore every day. His employees had long since learned that their stoic boss wasn’t one for idle chatter, team lunches, or office parties.

The most anyone knew about his personal life was the faint glint of a gold band that rested, unassuming, on the fourth finger of his left hand—a quiet declaration of his marital status, though no one dared ask questions about it.

Speculation, however, ran rampant.

In whispered conversations by the coffee machine and text exchanges after hours, the theories grew wilder by the month. Some insisted he must be a widower, his heart locked away with the memories of a tragic love lost too soon.

Others speculated that the wife was purely a fiction, an illusion crafted to fend off any personal inquiries. After all, there was no evidence to the contrary: no photos on his desk, no anecdotes shared in meetings, no offhand remarks about home life.

Nanami’s demeanor only fueled the mystery. He was distant, cold, and methodical—traits that seemed to belong to a man consumed by work, not one whose heart might be tethered to another.

And then came Tuesday.

It began unremarkably enough.

The office was slowly coming alive, the usual rhythm of clattering keyboards and muffled phone calls punctuating the air. An early morning meeting had been called, and as always, everyone expected Nanami to arrive promptly. His entrance usually marked by the sound of his polished shoes against the tile floor.

But he didn’t show.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

They thought of calling the national guard- maybe the president.

And then, the door swung open.

Every head turned, and the room collectively froze.

Nanami strode in, but not as the crisp and polished figure they were accustomed to. His usually pristine shirt was rumpled, the collar slightly askew. His tie, which was always immaculately knotted, hung loosely around his neck, as though it had been hastily thrown on. His blonde hair, typically combed back with military precision, was tousled, stray strands falling across his forehead. But none of that—not the dishevelled appearance, not the unusual tardiness—was what truly caught their attention.

No, it was the vivid smear of red lipstick on his stern mouth, a bold and damning mark that clashed spectacularly with his usually reserved persona.

“Good morning,” Nanami said, his voice calm, betraying no hint of embarrassment. He set his briefcase down on the table and adjusted his tie, though the effort did little to restore his usual composed appearance. “Apologies for my tardiness. My beautiful wife… delayed me this morning.”

He delivered the explanation with the same measured tone he used for quarterly reports, entirely unaware—or perhaps unbothered—by the tidal wave of shock rippling through the room.

The silence was deafening.

Nanami opened his folder and began the meeting as though nothing were amiss. His deep voice droned on about figures and strategies, but not a single soul in the room was listening. All eyes were fixated on him, or rather, on the crimson mark that lingered stubbornly on his lips—a mark as loud as a confession, as undeniable as a sunrise.

When the meeting ended, the office exploded into hushed whispers.

“Did you see that lipstick?” one whispered, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Beautiful wife?” another hissed. “Did he actually say beautiful wife?”

“I thought he was a widower!” someone exclaimed, their tone incredulous.

“I thought she wasn’t real,” came a quieter voice. “Like, he just wore the ring to… I don’t know, keep people from flirting with him.”

Speculation grew wilder by the second. Theories ranged from mundane explanations to wild conspiracies. Even Nanami’s closest colleagues—those who had worked alongside him for years—found themselves stunned into silence. They had thought they knew the man, or at least the carefully crafted version of him that he allowed others to see.

But this?

This was something entirely new.

Not only was Nanami Kento married, but he was also clearly, undeniably head over heels in love. The lipstick wasn’t just a slip of evidence—it was a bold, unintentional proclamation.

*-*

A couple of hours later, the office was still buzzing when the elevator doors opened, and she walked in.

You.

It was as if the room had collectively held its breath. Every head turned, every eye caught by your effortless radiance. You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t need to be loud to make an impact—your presence alone sent ripples through the stillness.

Dressed in a tailored, effortlessly chic outfit that seemed perfectly in tune with both elegance and casual charm, you carried a neatly packed lunchbox with ease. The soft rustle of fabric as you moved, the delicate shimmer of the sunlight that caught in your hair, and the subtle, effortless grace in your step made it seem as though you were glowing from within.

But it wasn’t just your beauty.

It was your warmth.

The way you smiled—so genuine, so effortlessly sweet—that it seemed to brighten the very air around you. It contrasted to the cold, calculating atmosphere of the office. Heads swiveled to follow your every step as you made your way toward Nanami’s office, your presence like a breath of fresh air after a storm.

The assistant at Nanami’s door was still blinking, stunned by what she’d witnessed earlier. When she saw you approaching, she stammered, trying to regain her composure.

“H-Hi—how can I help you?”

You smiled brightly at her, undeterred by the way she seemed utterly disarmed by your arrival. You put your ID down on the counter- with his last name on it.

“Hi! I’m here to drop this off for Kento,” you said, your voice light and cheerful, as if you were simply running a normal errand, rather than walking into an office full of flustered employees who were still grappling with what they’d learned about their usually stoic boss.

“Y-Yes, of course, Mrs. Nanami!” the assistant blurted out, fumbling with the door handle in her rush to open it for you.

You gave her a kind nod before stepping inside, the door closing softly behind you.

Nanami looked up from his desk the moment he heard the door open. The room was dimly lit, his desk cluttered with papers and open files, but as his eyes met yours, everything seemed to fade into the background.

His gaze softened, his expression melting from that usual cool professionalism into something more intimate, more tender. The moment was so fleeting, so delicate, it almost felt like a private world between the two of you.

For a moment, you just stood there, eyes locked with him, the office suddenly feeling smaller, quieter. Then, a soft smile pulled at the corners of his lips—a smile that was so warm, so genuine, it made your heart flutter.

“Hey there,” you said teasingly, stepping toward him. “You forgot your lunch this morning.”

Nanami chuckled, the sound deep and rich in his chest, a welcome contrast to the usually tight-lipped silence he carried. He rose from his desk immediately, his movements fluid and quick as he rounded it to take the lunchbox from your hands.

“I didn’t mean to, but it seems I was a little distracted,” he replied, his voice lower now, warm with affection.

You placed the box into his hands, your fingers brushing his for just a second, and you couldn’t help but smile as you gazed up at him. He was so… Kento. Always so composed, so restrained. But here he was, looking at you with soft eyes that betrayed a different side of him—one that was so much more vulnerable and open.

“You didn’t have to come all this way,” Nanami murmured, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

You shook your head, smiling softly.

“I wanted to. Besides,” you continued, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from his forehead, your fingers grazing his skin in a gesture so tender it made his heart skip, “you left in such a hurry this morning. I thought you might need a little extra love today.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and for that brief second, the world outside the office seemed to disappear. There was no agenda, no projects, no deadlines—just the two of you, in this quiet moment of affection that spoke volumes more than anything else could.

Nanami’s hand lingered on yours, his fingers warm and steady, before he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. His lips were faintly trembling as he pulled back, eyes searching yours for a moment, as if to drink in the love that radiated from you.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice impossibly soft, a hint of gratitude in the tone.

“Aw, my love,” you teased gently, reaching up with a perfectly manicured finger to wipe away the tiny red lipstick stain that had remained on his lips from earlier. Your red lipstick—the one you had left on him in the chaos of the morning, before he’d rushed out the door, leaving the office with a story no one could have predicted. You smiled at the sight of it, and a playful glint entered your eyes. “You’ve got a little stain.”

Nanami froze, his eyes widening for a split second before his lips curled into an embarrassed grin.

“I didn’t even notice,” he muttered, clearly flustered now, though his heart was warm at the small, loving gesture.

You smiled at him, utterly charmed by his bashful side.

“Well, you look perfect now,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over his lips once more, just to make sure the stain was completely gone.

He exhaled deeply, his expression softening as he gazed at you, lost in the depth of your eyes.

“You always know how to make my day better,” he said quietly, his voice laden with emotion.

You smiled warmly, the two of you standing there in a bubble of comfort, away from the chaos of the office. “It was nothing, Kento. Just a little something for my favourite person.”

You gave him a lingering look, that undeniable warmth in your smile tugging at his heart. But the moment was short-lived, as you gave him a soft kiss on the cheek before stepping back.

“I should get going,” you said, your voice light, almost teasing.

Nanami nodded, reluctantly letting go of your hand, but not without that same warmth lingering in his gaze. “Dinner tonight?”

“Of course,” you answered, flashing him one last radiant smile. “It was lovely meeting all of you,” you added, waving to the still-stunned colleagues who had been watching from the doorway.

As you turned to leave, the room seemed to come alive again, and Nanami’s colleagues were left utterly speechless. The confident, reserved boss they thought they knew had just been revealed to be completely, unapologetically whipped, in the most beautiful way possible. His expression remained soft, utterly relaxed, and for a moment, he didn’t care about the curious eyes on him or the whispers that would follow.

*-*

The aftermath of that morning’s revelation was pure chaos.

The office- that was once humming with its usual rhythm, now seemed to vibrate with shock and curiosity, as if the very fabric of reality had been torn open and a new, unimaginable world had spilled out.

The news of Nanami Kento’s uncharacteristic display of affection had set off an uncontrollable ripple, and it was all anyone could talk about.

“Did you see her?” someone whispered in the hallway, eyes wide with disbelief.

“She’s gorgeous!” came another voice, filled with awe. “How did he manage that? She’s like... perfect.”

“I feel like my entire perception of the universe has shifted,” someone else muttered, as if trying to come to terms with the impossibility of it all. “I always thought Nanami was, I don’t know, immune to love or something.”

“Nanami’s whipped,” another voice said, and there was a certain awe in their tone, a mixture of surprise and something else—something that almost bordered on respect. “Totally whipped.”

In the break room, the conversation was reaching fever pitch. A group of Nanami’s long-time colleagues, some of whom had worked with him for years, shook their heads in disbelief. Their minds struggled to process what had just happened.

To see their stoic, ever-serious boss—Nanami Kento, the man who ruled the office with icy calm and calculated professionalism—acting like that?

One of them, an older colleague who’d known Nanami since he’d first started at the company, ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath.

“I’ve known that man for years. YEARS,” he emphasized, his tone a mixture of wonder and confusion. “I never thought I’d see the day where he looked that happy, like... like he had a whole different side to him. I didn’t even know he could smile like that.”

Another colleague, equally stunned, leaned against the counter, his eyes still wide as he replayed the scene in his mind.

“Forget the smile,” he said, shaking his head. “Did you see the way he looked at her? I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that—not like that. That wasn’t just love. That was... devotion. Pure, unfiltered devotion. I didn’t think he had it in him.”

Back in Nanami’s office, however, the man himself was blissfully unaware of the firestorm his private life had ignited among his staff. He sat at his desk, papers scattered in front of him, but his focus was nowhere near the reports in front of him. His mind wandered to the memory of you, of your soft smile and the way your fingers had brushed against his as you handed him the lunchbox, the fleeting kiss that had left him feeling like the luckiest man alive.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he stared blankly at his computer screen. It was subtle—just a soft curve of his lips—but it was there. No one would see it unless they were paying close attention, but to him, it was all that mattered.

His employees might be gossiping, they might be speculating wildly about his mysterious wife, but honestly, he couldn’t care less. Let them talk. Let them fill the air with their astonished chatter.

He didn’t need to defend himself or explain anything. He was content in the knowledge that he had you—that you were the love of his life, and nothing else mattered.

As his fingers hovered over his keyboard, his thoughts shifted again. There was something he had to do—something far more important than anything the office could throw at him. He’d promised you that he would be home early tonight, that he would spend the evening with you.

Just the two of you, together.

The mere thought of it made his heart race with anticipation, and the smile on his lips grew just a little wider. His focus was entirely on you—on the quiet, intimate evening you would share when the workday ended.

He had no intention of being late.

The work would be done, and he would be home in time for dinner—because the truth was, that was all he cared about now.

You.

In the end, they didn’t know the half of it.

They didn’t know how his heart felt lighter every time he thought of you, how the mere mention of your name made his whole world feel brighter.

They didn’t know that he had found something deeper than work, something worth fighting for, something that made all the cold, calculated days of his life worth it.

The office was still buzzing with questions and speculation, but he had more important things to think about—like how soon he could leave the office behind and head home to you.

Tonight, he was going to be exactly where he wanted to be: with you, the love of his life, the one person who made him feel whole.

A/N; hes so arghghhghhgghgh, okay anyways, yes. Look at him go:

:)

[zylusmusings]

[zylusmusings]

Going to a ski resort with Sylus

Sylus would reveal his snowboarding skills with his signature nonchalant flair, leaving you both impressed and slightly annoyed.

His teaching style would be a mix of teasing and genuine help. He’d steady you, placing his hands on your hips. "Balance here, weight forward. No, not like that. Unless you want to facepalm again."

He would be very patient, Sylus would catch you every time you stumbled, brushing snow off from your jacket with a smirk. "You’re improving. Slowly. At this rate, you might be ready for the Olympics by... next century."

If you get frustrated, Sylus would purposely fall in a dramatic, exaggerated way to make you laugh. "See? Even I make mistakes. Happy now?"

Of course, Sylus wouldn’t settle for anything less than the best suite at the resort.

The suite would have floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the snowy mountains, a roaring fireplace, a private hot spring on the balcony, and a luxurious sauna.

He’d insist that you should take a bath, to prevent a bit of the muscle discomfort you will surely have after snowboarding all day. "Come on, sweetie. You’ll regret it if you don’t try it." Sitting in the warm water with snow falling softly around you two is a whole new experience, he’d pull you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "This is better than watching you fall".

By the fireplace, the teasing would fade into quiet intimacy as you snuggled together on the plush rug.

Sylus would sit with his back against the couch, pulling you into his lap as the firelight danced across the room. He’d drape a blanket over you, his arms wrapped securely around your body. "Comfy, kitten?" he’d murmur, his voice low and warm. Just the sound of the cracking wood fill the air. He's tracing slow, lazy patterns on your arm, his usually sharp gaze softened as he watched you.

Sylus couldn’t resist a gentle jab. "You’ve been running around like a whirlwind all day. Who knew you could actually sit still?"

But before you could even say something, he’d press a gentle and tender kiss on your lips. "Not that I’m complaining. You’re kind of perfect like this."

You would sync your breath, making you lean more into him, resting against his chest. Sylus would hold you tighter, murmuring just above a whisper, "If I could, I would keep you right here... forever"