21+ | Recently I've been doing more edits and wallpaper making of Bungo Stray Dogs. :D Otherwise the occassional random reblogs. XD. I do accept wallpaper requests if you have any. ^w^
Summary: It was your anniversary with Zayne. One year of togetherness. But what if he does not show up when you expect him to? What if he was spending it with MC?
Pairing: Non MC! Reader x Zayne
Note: MC in this fic goes by the name Lina (my name... so if you are angry, you can be angry at me :3). This oneshot was based on this request. I will write this for the other LADS men too. Also I don't think any of these men would ever be the type to actually willlingly forget it. Especially Zayne. So I had to adapt the request a bit.
Content Warning: injuries, panic, insecurities, self worth issues, Zayne POV
Rafayel version |
Zayne’s apartment smelled like him—clean, crisp, and faintly of the eucalyptus-scented candles he kept on the shelves. You sat on the edge of his couch, smoothing the fabric of your dress down your thighs, nerves making your fingers tremble slightly. The dim light of the chandelier cast a soft glow over the room, illuminating the carefully planned surprise you had for him —flowers, his favorite treats, elegant scarves, and jackets you had spent weeks picking out. The final touch was the flexible weekend getaway tickets, somewhere warm and far from the sterility of hospital walls. A place where he could finally rest.
You had gone all out for tonight. The garden-themed restaurant was supposed to be the perfect setting—a quiet, intimate place where vines curled around twinkling fairy lights, and the soft scent of fresh blooms would fill the air. And you had dressed accordingly with something elegant, something that made you feel beautiful for him. The deep navy-blue dress you wore clung to your form just right, the intricate lace details at the sleeves soft against your skin. You had taken your time getting ready, styling your hair to perfection, slipping on a pair of delicate earrings he once admired absentmindedly. A spritz of white jasmine perfume, the one he once said reminded him of spring mornings. You wanted to look like someone worthy of being by his side. You wanted to be beautiful for him, for the man who had somehow, impossibly, fallen for you.
Because, truth be told, there were times you weren’t sure you were.
you still didn’t understand how this happened—how Zayne, the prodigy, the man who could save lives with his hands and mind, had chosen you. He was brilliant, disciplined, and deeply compassionate. And you? You were just… you. Ordinary in comparison. He never made you feel small, never belittled you, but standing beside him you felt you were just lucky to be there. His world was one of brilliance, filled with extraordinary people—Lina, the fearless Deepspace Hunter; his late friend Caleb, a DAA pilot whose loss still lingered in hushed conversations; his esteemed mentors and fellow doctors who spoke in a language you could only ever grasp at the edges. Compared to them, compared to him, you felt so small.
But tonight, none of that mattered. Tonight, was supposed to be about the two of you.
You had fallen for him in the quietest of ways—through the gentle cadence of his voice, through the moments he noticed things others didn’t. How he’d pull a chair out for you before you could do it yourself, how he’d check the temperature of your tea so you wouldn’t burn your tongue, how he’d listen, really listen, to your ramblings even after a 48-hour shift. He had nestled himself into your heart without you even realizing it.
And tonight, he had insisted he wanted to be with you, even with the chaos of the hospital weighing on his shoulders.
The call came two hours before your reservation. You already knew what he was going to say the moment you saw his name flash on your screen.
“Hey, sweetheart…” Zayne’s voice was warm, familiar, but there was an edge of exhaustion to it. “I’m so sorry. I can’t make it tonight.”
Your heart sank, but you swallowed it down, forcing your voice to remain even. “It’s okay, Zayne. I know you’re busy.”
“It's been a long shift, and the surgeries…”
You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll cancel the reservation. Take some breaks and rest, okay? You sound tired…”
“I am fine, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. “I swear.”
"It’s fine, Zayne." you whispered, even if it wasn’t. “We’ll just celebrate it another day. No big deal.” Even though it felt like one at the moment.
Still, you weren’t upset. Not really. You understood. You always understood.
You hung up and exhaled slowly, pressing your palms against your lap. It wasn’t his fault. He was working back-to-back shifts, saving lives, doing what he was meant to do. And yet, you couldn’t quite keep the disappointment from settling in your chest.
You exhaled slowly, stripping away the dress you had so eagerly put on just hours ago. You slip into into one of Zayne’s oversized sweaters instead, the one that still smelled like him, the sleeves swallowing your hands. You wear leggings underneath and slip on your shoes. You took your time packing the gifts back into the car, moving slowly, as if dragging out the moment would make it hurt less. Maybe when he was finally done, you could pick him up from the hospital. At least you’d get to see him and surprise him. This was what occupied your time for the next three to four hours.
Once everything was back in the car, you plopped yourself on his plush but ergonomic couch. You scrolled through your phone while waiting, mindlessly tapping through social media, until one post stopped you cold.
Lina’s story.
A picture of her sitting across from Zayne in a small restaurant outside Akso hospital, the caption lighthearted:
When you have to drag out your doctor because he won’t follow his own advice about resting. (-_-)
Zayne looked amused in the photo, tired but still composed, his lips slightly curved in a small, rare smile. He looked… content. His gaze focused on her as if she had just said something ridiculous.
Your fingers trembled as you stared at the screen.
It was stupid. It was so stupid to feel like this. Lina was his childhood best friend. She had never given you a reason to be insecure, and yet, the sting of it hit you like a slow, creeping ache. He had time to go out for a meal with her. He had time to smile like that, even after canceling on you. You knew you were being irrational, that he had only stepped out for a quick bite in his busy shift, yet you felt betrayed.
Tears pricked at your eyes before you could stop them. You wiped them away quickly, but they kept falling, silent at first, then turning into quiet, shuddering sobs. You felt pathetic. Childish. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. You knew he wasn’t. But it hurt anyway. Because you would have taken anything—just a few moments, even just a simple meal at that tiny restaurant, if it meant spending time with him today.
It hurt in a way that made your chest feel tight, made the lump in your throat impossible to swallow. The sting of it crept under your skin like a wound you hadn’t realized was open, raw and aching. The disappointment bled into something uglier, something heavier. Why, after everything, did it feel like you were always on the sidelines of his life? No, Zayne never made you feel that way. It was your own spiraling thoughts.
A loud sob choked its way out, your hands gripping the fabric of his sweater as if that would somehow ground you. You wanted to hate yourself for crying over something so petty. He was saving lives. He was exhausted. He didn’t mean to hurt you.
But it hurt.
You needed to go home. You needed to collect yourself before the ugly thoughts swallowed you whole. You stood up, tears streaming down your face, as the weight of it all seemed too much to bear. You didn’t want to sit here anymore. You didn’t want to wait. You needed to go home, to clear your head, to get away from the overwhelming sense of inadequacy.
You sniffled, grabbing your keys and heading out. The highway would be the fastest route home—less traffic, a straight shot. You rerouted, pressing your foot on the accelerator, trying to breathe through the tightness in your chest. You wiped at your tears quickly, trying to focus on the road.
The road stretched out before you, a wide expanse of concrete and asphalt that felt like it would swallow you whole. The tears wouldn’t stop, and you wiped them away, trying to steady your hands on the wheel, trying to focus on the road ahead. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that you understood, that you were rational about his work. The reality of it, the empty seat next to you, the disappointment of seeing Zayne happy in a photo with someone else, it all felt too much.
And then—
Headlights. Too close. Too fast.
A car jumped the signal, trying to merge into the highway.
You slammed the breaks, the scream of tires against pavement rang in your ears.
The impact was instant. A violent, sickening jolt that sent your body forward, the seatbelt snapping against your chest, the airbag exploding in front of you. The windshield cracked, splintering into a spiderweb of broken glass. Your vision blurred, the world spinning.
Pain.
Your chest burned, lungs straining to catch a breath. Your limbs felt heavy. You reached for the seatbelt, your fingers fumbling, but it was jammed.
Fuck.
Your head lulled forward, resting against the deflated airbag. Your head was heavy, your thoughts slipping away like sand through your fingers. The distant wail of sirens reached your ears, but they felt so far away.
Your vision swam, the edges darkening.
I hope the other person is alright.
The thought barely had time to settle before everything faded into black.
ZAYNE'S POV
The fluorescent lights of the hospital buzzed faintly, casting an artificial glow over the chaos of the emergency room. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and the undercurrent of blood—familiar, almost routine, yet tonight it gnawed at Zayne's nerves in a way he couldn't quite shake. He hadn’t left since he stepped through those doors, yet somehow, the guilt weighing on him had nothing to do with the lives he saved today. It was you.
He was tired. God, was he tired. His body screamed for rest, his temples throbbed from the strain of back-to-back shifts, but the hospital was understaffed, and there was no room for exhaustion when lives were at stake. As a cardiologist, his expertise lay in the intricate mechanics of the human heart, but duty demanded flexibility—especially in the ER. Cardiologists weren’t meant to be dealing with blunt force trauma and lacerations, but tonight, none of that mattered. They needed doctors. He was a doctor. So, he worked.
Even through the fatigue, his mind kept drifting back to you. He could still hear your voice from the call earlier, soft and understanding despite the disappointment laced beneath it. You didn’t deserve this. You had every right to be upset, to be frustrated that he had broken his promise, yet you didn’t even complain. That hurt more than if you had yelled at him
God, he loved you. And he hated himself for testing that patience again and again.
His hand tightened around the pen he was holding. He had plans—plans to make it up to you. The necklace in his office drawer, nestled in a velvet box, had been meant for tonight. Something small, perhaps, compared to everything you did, but a token of his devotion nonetheless. He could still salvage this. Maybe he could call you later, ask if you were still awake—
His device beeped, pulling him back to the present.
MVA on the highway. ETA: 5 minutes.
Multi-vehicle accident. Paramedics on site, victims en route.
Zayne exhaled sharply, shifting into work mode. He stepped into the ER just as the first stretcher was wheeled in. The radio chatter from their comms filled the space.
"Female, mid-to-late twenties, restrained driver, T-bone collision from a vehicle that ran a red light. Airbag deployment, but impact trauma to the chest from seatbelt. BP slightly low, likely from pain response. Tachycardic at 112. GCS is 14. Possible wrist fracture, mild concussion. No signs of internal bleeding from the ultrasound, but needs further imaging to rule out any complications."
He nodded briskly, slipping into the detached, clinical efficiency that had been drilled into him for years. It was only as he stepped forward, pulling the curtain aside, that his breath caught in his throat.
His world stopped.
There, on the hospital bed, was you.
Lying on the hospital bed, your hair disheveled, your skin pale against the stark white sheets. His breath lodged in his throat, the world narrowing to a pinpoint focus on the rise and fall of your chest. He couldn't move. Couldn't think. There was dried blood at your temple, your lower lip swollen where you must have bitten down upon impact. The sight of the IV line in your arm, the faint bruises forming along your collarbone—he couldn’t breathe.
No. No. No. No. No.
"Dr. Zayne…" Yvonne’s voice cut in, sharp and urgent. A warning. He was frozen. This wasn't just a patient. This was you.
He blinked, his hands suddenly trembling as he reached for his gloves. Breathe. He had to focus. Had to push past the sheer, gut-wrenching fear threatening to paralyze him.
This is her. She was waiting for me. She—
"Dr. Zayne!!" Yvonne pressed, handing him the updated chart. "She needs you."
That snapped him out of it.
The moment his hands touched you, they were steady again. His voice was even as he examined you, the motions automatic, controlled. He checked your pupils, gently palpated your ribs to assess for fractures. He was a doctor. He was your doctor right now. He had to move. Focusing, he reached for his stethoscope, pressing it against your chest to listen for abnormalities. The rhythm of your heart was steady, but your breathing was just slightly labored—likely from the seatbelt trauma.
"You’re going to be fine." he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
You were stable.
"Her left shoulder—check for AC joint separation," he murmured, voice steadier than he felt. "Get a CT to rule out any internal injuries. And…" He swallowed. “Get me images from the crash site.” He needed to see how bad the collison was. He had to.
The hours blurred. He monitored your scans, adjusted your IV, checked your vitals more times than necessary. Each time his eyes drifted to you; his chest ached. He had seen the accident reports—your car, your windshield shattered, the crumpled hood. And the contents scattered across the scene…
You had planned everything.
For him.
And he wasn’t there.
Zayne clenched his jaw. Flowers were scattered, crushed against the upholstery. The pastries you must have picked out for him were ruined; their boxes torn open from the force of the crash. And gifts. There were so many gifts. He hadn’t even known you had planned all this.
He felt like he was going to be sick.
You had so much waiting for him. And where had he been? At a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, eating with Lina because she forced him to take a break. He had been smiling in that photo while you were—
God.
He ran a hand down his face, exhaling shakily as he sat by your bedside. He should have been with you. If he had just—
The monitor beeped steadily, a quiet reminder that you were alive.
Now, he sat beside you, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest, fingers curled into his palms to keep them from shaking.
"Wake up, sweetheart." he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "Please, just wake up."
And for once, Zayne—brilliant, composed, always in control—felt utterly powerless.
The beep of the heart monitor was steady, rhythmic, but Zayne found himself gripping the edge of his chair every time you stirred, waiting for that moment when your eyes would finally open. His body was stiff from staying in the same position for hours, but he didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to miss it.
Then, a small shift in your breathing. A twitch of your fingers.
Zayne leaned forward just as your lashes fluttered, your eyes cracking open, only to squeeze shut again at the harsh fluorescent lights. You groaned softly, shifting against the sheets. Instinctively, you tried to sit up.
"Hey—stay put," Zayne said immediately, pressing a hand against your shoulder to keep you down. His touch was gentle but firm, his fingers warm even against the hospital gown. "Don’t move too much yet."
Your body resisted for a moment, muscles tensing as if you wanted to argue, but the disorientation dulled your fight. Your gaze finally settled on him, hazy with the remnants of sleep and confusion.
Then you frowned.
“…You look tired,” you murmured, your voice soft, still groggy. “How long have you been here?”
Zayne’s heart clenched so tightly it hurt. Even now, even when you were the one lying in a hospital bed, barely recovered from an accident, your first thoughts were about him.
His throat felt tight, but he exhaled sharply, forcing himself to speak. “You should look at yourself first, sweetheart.”
Your gaze flickered down, taking in the IV in your arm, the bruises along your wrist, the faint soreness that no doubt ached across your body. Zayne exhaled sharply and reached out, his fingertips tracing the side of your face before cupping your cheek fully. His thumb brushed lightly against your skin, as if grounding himself with the warmth of you. His eyes were moist, though no tears fell.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low, raw in a way that stripped away every layer of his usual composure.
You parted your lips, breath hitching as if you were about to reassure him—to do what you always did, to let him off the hook, to tell him it wasn’t his fault.
But he didn’t let you.
“No,” he cut in firmly, shaking his head. “Not this time. This is the one time you shouldn’t be so understanding.” His jaw clenched, something bitter twisting in his expression. “I should have been there. We should have been celebrating our relationship. End of discussion.”
Silence settled between you.
After a beat, he exhaled, running a hand through his hair before looking at you again. “Why didn’t you demand my time?” His voice was quieter now, tinged with regret. “You had every right to.”
You hesitated, glancing away. “…I didn’t want to bother you.” Your fingers twisted into the hospital blanket, grip tightening slightly. “You’re important, Zayne. You save lives. I didn’t want to pull you away from that.”
Something in him snapped.
He let out a sharp breath, then reached for your hand, gently prying your fingers from the blanket. His grip was warm, grounding.
“Shh… And you think you’re not?” he murmured, shaking his head. “Don’t ever say that again.” His gaze bore into yours, unwavering. “You are important to me.”
"You’re important to me," he repeated, voice steady but almost desperate. "Just like my work makes demands of me, you are more than entitled to make demands of me, too."
Your eyes searched his, uncertainty flickering beneath the lingering haze of exhaustion. But Zayne’s gaze didn’t waver.
"I know I should have been there," he said again, quieter this time. He hesitated for only a fraction of a second before brushing a thumb over the edge of your jaw, tilting your face slightly. “When I saw you on this bed when I entered the ER… pale, unconscious… I haven’t felt fear like that before," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not in all my years of doing this. Not like that."
You didn’t say anything, but your hand came up slowly, resting over his.
He closed his eyes briefly, exhaling.
This—this was what he almost lost.
His jaw clenched, then loosened as he exhaled. “I don’t want to ever feel it again.”
Another pause.
Zayne inhaled deeply, steadying himself. His hand still cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing absentminded circles against your skin, as if reassuring himself that you were still here. That you were warm. That he hadn’t lost you.
“I know I say I’m sorry a lot… and it probably has lost meaning to you.” he murmured; his voice rough with emotion. His lips pressed into a thin line, as if struggling to put his feelings into something more tangible. “I should have been there. And I will be. Every step of the way until you’re fully recovered and after....”
His eyes flickered downward, scanning you like the doctor he was, but this was different. This wasn’t just clinical analysis—this was personal. "You got lucky," he admitted, exhaling through his nose. "Blunt force trauma to the ribs, a mild concussion, and a broken wrist. Some lacerations on your arm and leg, but nothing deep enough to require surgical intervention. The worst was the head trauma, but the scans came back clear. No bleeding, no swelling. That’s the only reason I’m not having a complete breakdown right now…" His fingers ghosted over your arm, careful not to apply pressure. "Nothing life-threatening or with lasting consequences. But still… you shouldn’t have had to go through that alone." His jaw tensed. "Not when you have me."
You gave him a small, tired smile at that, and something inside him twisted.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to reach into his pocket, his fingers closing around the small velvet box. He’d gone to his office to clock off for the day to be beside you when he picked it up from his drawer. The very box he wanted to give you today. The one that was supposed to be given in a far more joyful setting. This was supposed to be today. A night spent celebrating the two of you—not this. Not hospital beds and IV drips and the hollow fear that had nearly swallowed him whole.
But none of that mattered now.
What mattered was that you were here. And this… this was still yours.
His throat felt thick as he flipped it open, revealing the necklace inside—a delicate silver chain holding a white jasmine pendant, smooth and polished, its petals carved with intricate detail. And behind it, barely visible, were his initials.
His fingers trembled just slightly as he took it out.
"I was supposed to give this to you today," he admitted, voice lower now, almost guilty. "Before all of this. Before I let my own priorities get in the way of what really mattered." He glanced up at you, and for the first time in a long time, he looked vulnerable. "I don’t want you to ever think that you come second. Because you don’t. You never have."
Gently, he reached around your neck, his touch featherlight as he fastened the clasp. The cool metal of the pendant settled just above your collarbone, resting against your skin. His fingertips lingered there, just briefly.
Then he let out a slow breath, tilting your chin up just slightly with his knuckles. His mind still reeled with everything that had happened, with everything he should have done differently.
"I love you," he said, and this time there was no hesitation, no wry smirk to mask his emotions, no half-hearted deflection. Just honesty, raw and unguarded. "Even when I do a crappy job at showing it." He didn’t need you to say it back—he just needed you to know.
For a moment, silence stretched between you. Then, his lips quirked, just slightly, into something softer. "And since I’m apparently on mandatory bedside duty, I hope you’re ready to be completely spoiled. I’m talking fresh coffee, extra pillows, a ridiculous number of medical advices—"
A small, breathy laugh escaped you, and Zayne felt something in his chest loosen at the sound. Then, slowly, you lifted a hand, brushing your fingertips over the pendant before reaching up to cup his cheek.
Zayne leaned into your touch instinctively, exhaling softly. He smiled, finally, pressing his forehead lightly against yours. "Yeah," he murmured. "We’ll be just fine. I've got you sweetheart... I'll always be here for you."
AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!
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.
[ A disclaimer note - Please be respectful of the request ]
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.
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?
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?
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.
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.
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.
[ A disclaimer note - Please be respectful of the request ]
AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!
Since you requested this, I present some Lyney angst.
After Lyney stood you up on your date for the umpteenth time for Lumine, you begin to reevaluate whether continuing the relationship is worth it.
Your decision is finally made when you end up spending your anniversary alone; you begin to remove yourself from Lyney's life. You stop going to his and Lynette's performances, you completely change your daily routine just to avoid the twins, you even stop going out on 'date nights'.
After a while, you make the decision to completely disappear from Lyney's life... By leaving Fontaine and moving to Liyue where your maternal cousin, Ying'er.
It is only after Freminet lets it slip that he saw you by a Waverider Point did Lyney realize that he hadn't seen you for a while. He hurries to your house, but it's already too late; you were long gone and the only thing left in the house was a box containing every present he had given you.
AN: My tears were my dinner for tonight. I blame you for it :| Reblogs are much appreciated.
Pairing: Lyney x f! reader
Words: 7450
CW/TW: neglect, insecurities, regrets, jealousy, ghosting, angst (no comfort)
PART 2
header art credit
Just a Lumidouce Bell
Am I still not worth that much? I'm sorry for the way my life turned out. Sorry for the smile I'm wearing now, guess I'm still not good enough....
Amidst the muted elegance of Hotel Debord, you sat alone at a table, an island of solitude amidst the bustling symphony of clinking glasses and hushed laughter. The warm ambiance of the place seemed to mock your anticipation, and your fingers tapped rhythmically on the tablecloth. It had been two hours already – two hours of watching the seconds on your watch crawl by like wounded insects. Your fourth glass of Fonta stood empty, a testament to the passage of time, or rather, the lack thereof. The soft glow of the chandeliers cast gentle halos on the faces of the diners around you, their conversations forming an indistinct hum in the background. Each passing minute weighed on you like an anchor, dragging your hopes deeper into the abyss of disappointment. You glanced at the waiter who had been keeping a sympathetic eye on you, his understanding smile only amplifying the emptiness settling in your chest. With a sigh that felt like the release of a heavy burden, you motioned him over and requested the bill.
As you absently traced the rim of your glass, your thoughts turned to the painful cycle that seemed to have gripped your relationship. Lyney's absence on countless dates had gradually eroded the foundation of trust and affection between you two. The memory of his excuses and empty promises lingered like an unwanted ghost, haunting the corners of your mind.
The waiter returned with the bill, and you settled it with a mix of resignation and quiet determination. Leaving the table behind, you stepped out into the Fontaine night, where the chill wind embraced you like a forsaken lover. The sky above was a tapestry of melancholic gray, and the air carried the scent of rain, as if even the heavens were in mourning. A bitter smile tugged at your lips as you recalled the old tale whispered by the Fontaine residents – the legend of the hydro dragon's tears. They said that when the dragon cried, it rained in Fontaine, as if the very essence of the city wept. Tonight, however, it seemed that the tears were not exclusive to the hydro dragon. The world around you felt like a reflection of your own shattered hopes and unspoken fears.
How many times had you stood at this precipice, hoping against hope that Lyney would emerge from the shadows, apologizing and promising change? Yet, tonight marked the culmination of a painful decision you had been grappling with for a while. You cast one last look at the hotel's entrance, where the promise of Lyney's arrival had withered into nothingness. With a heavy heart, you turned away, your footsteps carrying you through the quiet streets of Fontaine.
In the aftermath of another painfully unattended date, your thoughts traced back to when the shift in your relationship with Lyney had begun. It was a time when a fabled traveler named Lumine had graced Fontaine with her presence, a time of both salvation and unintended consequence. Lumine had arrived in the city just in time to quell the storm of false accusations that threatened to engulf Lyney and his sister Lynette, accusations that had cast a dark cloud over the opera house they held dear.
As Lumine recounted the events that had unfolded, her words were a lifeline thrown to the twins. Paimon, her ever-loyal companion, had echoed the sentiment, and together, they wove a narrative that exposed the fabrications that had threatened to unravel Lyney and Lynette's reputation. You had stood on the fringes of the courtroom, your heart a conflicted battleground.
But the moment of salvation was soon tainted by the truth Lumine unearthed – the revelation that Lyney and Lynette were entwined with the Fatui, the very organization that had sown chaos and discord throughout the world. The atmosphere in the room shifted from relief to palpable tension. You watched as Lumine's expression twisted from compassion to betrayal, her gaze hardening as she stared at the twins. It was as if a chasm had opened between the savior and the saved. Lyney's eyes, once bright with hope, dimmed with the weight of regret and shame. In that pivotal moment, alliances shifted and perspectives changed, leaving an indelible mark on all involved. You, a silent spectator in this theater of emotions, had nudged Lyney to make amends, to bridge the gap that Lumine's revelation had torn open. The bonds that formed in the midst of adversity were often the strongest, and it seemed only fitting to build bridges and show gratitude.
However, as time unfolded, what had begun as a well-intentioned bridge-building exercise had evolved into something more complex. Lyney's interactions with Lumine deepened, and the lines between friendship and something more nebulous blurred. The halo of Lumine's presence cast a shadow on your once-intimate moments, like a third party in a relationship that was never meant to be.
Lyney's attention, once solely yours, had now shifted toward Lumine and Paimon’ s needs. Expeditions and adventures seemed to beckon him at every turn, each one carried out with an enthusiasm you had once known so intimately. It was as if you were watching a play from the wings, a play in which you had once held a starring role but now struggled to find your place. The weight of his absence settled heavily on your heart, a void that grew with each time he disappeared without a word. He accompanied Lumine on explorations, embarked on quests at her side, and even ventured into realms unknown, all while leaving you in the silence of unfulfilled plans. The intimacy you had once shared was overshadowed by a gnawing ache, an ache that whispered of betrayal and abandonment, even as you fought to quell those feelings. You had whispered to yourself that you were overreacting, that this was the product of insecurity and nothing more. The sting of neglect seeped into your heart, slowly but surely, and you struggled to reason with the feelings of jealousy and hurt that began to fester.
You remember that one evening, you had been sharing dinner with Lyney and his sister, Lynette. The conversation had flowed in fits of banter and laughter until it had inevitably veered towards Lyney's grand finale, a spectacle involving Lumidouce Bells cascading from the opera house ceiling like sparkling confetti.
The exchange between the siblings was a dance of words, a playful sparring that masked a deeper sentiment. "Oh come on, Lyney. Lumidouce Bells again? I thought you'd go for something truly unexpected, like Rainbow Roses. I mean now that you’ve given Lumine one." Lynette had teased, her grin a sly challenge.
Lyney had laughed, a light in his eyes. "Well, Lyn, sometimes the unexpected is what leaves the most lasting impression. And besides, Lumine seemed to appreciate it."
The exchange between the siblings was a lighthearted banter, but its impact on you was far from trivial. A faint wave of jealousy surged within you, unnoticed by anyone but yourself. Rainbow roses – a symbol of affection and love, yet they had never graced your presence. You swallowed the emotions that threatened to spill forth, battling the thoughts that questioned your own worthiness. Had you not been special enough to deserve such a gesture? Were Lumidouce bells all you were worth to him? When had the gift of rainbow roses become Lumine's privilege, while you stood on the periphery?
With a determined exhale, you pushed the memories away, the sound of your footsteps against the cobblestones echoed beneath your weight. The decision had begun to take shape, a fragile ember of strength ignited within the recesses of your heart. It was time to create distance, to let the echoes of your absence resonate in the spaces Lyney now shared with Lumine. Maybe, just maybe, he would realize the chasm that had formed between you two, a rift born of neglect and unspoken yearnings.
You recalled the moments when you had attempted to bridge the growing gap between you and Lyney. The conversations, the attempts at understanding, all seemed to dissolve in the face of his apologetic smiles and kind words. He would express remorse for his actions, his absence, and offer promises of change, but those promises seldom materialized into action. The disconnect between his words and actions cast a shadow of disillusionment over your heart, and the ache of feeling unheard and unseen grew heavier with each passing day. There were nights when you would pour your feelings out, laying bare the loneliness that gnawed at your soul, and he would listen with attentive eyes and a sympathetic touch. His reassurances would wrap around you like a fragile cocoon, and in those moments, it felt like you were understood. But as the days flowed into nights, those assurances would dissipate, leaving behind the cold residue of his absence.
Amidst these tumultuous emotions, you had set your sights on your anniversary, hoping against hope that it would serve as the turning point. It was a date pregnant with the weight of your relationship, a day that would mark whether the bonds between you and Lyney were still strong enough to weather the storm that Lumine's presence had unleashed. With a heavy heart and the weight of uncertainty on your shoulders, you had decided to give it one last chance, to see if he would rise to the occasion and mend what was frayed. The thought of your anniversary, the day that marked the culmination of your journey together, tugged at your heart as you walked through the moonlit streets. The cobblestones beneath your feet seemed to whisper tales of past celebrations, of shared laughter and stolen kisses. The memories were a tender reminder of what had once been, and your steps grew heavier with the weight of the decision you knew you had to make.
-------------------------------------
The opera house stood before you, its grandeur illuminated by the soft glow of golden lights that lined its entrance. The air buzzed with anticipation, the energy of the audience seeping into the night. As you approached the entrance, your heart quickened with a mixture of hope and trepidation. This was the night of Lyney's show, a night that held the potential to mend the fractures in your relationship. You clung to that hope, even as doubts gnawed at the edges of your resolve.
As you stepped closer, a man stationed at the entrance regarded you with a look that spoke of impatience.
"I'm sorry, miss, but I can't let you in without a ticket," he said curtly, his tone devoid of empathy.
You blinked, taken aback by his dismissal. "But I should be on the list. I'm a VIP for Lyney's show," you protested, your voice quivering with a mix of frustration and desperation.
The man raised an eyebrow, his skepticism evident. "And what makes you a VIP?"
You struggled to keep your composure, your voice cracking as you responded, "I'm Lyney's girlfriend, and I've always been there to support his magic shows."
He let out a scoff, a condescending smirk playing on his lips. "Lyney's girlfriend, huh? I've heard that one before. If that were true, you should have been on the list. But you're not."
Stubbornness fueled your determination as you planted your feet by the entrance, watching as people with tickets were allowed to pass. Your heart clenched with every person that walked by, their laughter and excitement cutting through your resolve like a knife. You were holding on, holding on to the belief that Lyney's promise to change, to prioritize you, wasn't just empty words. Then, your gaze shifted, catching sight of a familiar figure – Lumine, accompanied by the ever-cheerful Paimon. They approached the entrance, their presence a stark contrast to the turmoil in your heart. The man stepped in their way; his voice curt as he asked for their names to check the list.
Paimon’ s voice chimed, "We should be on the list! We're VIPs!"
The man scanned the list, his expression changing to one of recognition. With a nod, he granted them entry, opening the door with a polite gesture. The interaction was swift, seamless – a confirmation of their privileged status.
Your heart dropped like an anchor, the realization hitting you like a wave crashing against the shore. Lumine, the fabled traveler who had unwittingly become a central figure in your heartache, was being welcomed with open arms. The same arms that seemed closed off to you.
Lumine's gaze shifted, her eyes meeting yours. She smiled warmly, her voice carrying through the air, "Hey, why don't you join us inside? It'll be fun!"
You managed to conjure a smile, but it felt like a mask stretched too thin. Your head shook slightly, a half-hearted refusal escaping your lips. "I appreciate it, but I have some errands to run, and I'm running late. Enjoy the show!" The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but it was a necessary shield to protect yourself from the vulnerability that threatened to spill forth. Before Lumine could insist further, you turned away, hurrying from the opera house entrance. Tears welled in your eyes, a torrent of emotions threatening to drown you. How could he? How could Lyney forget your name on the list? Was it a thoughtless oversight or a deliberate omission? Each step you took away from the grand entrance echoed the rhythm of your heartache.
As you walked away from the opera house, your heart weighed down by the fresh wound of rejection, your thoughts turned to the looming anniversary. Just one more week, and it would mark the day you had set your sights on, hoping against hope that it could breathe life back into the fading embers of your relationship. You had planned it meticulously, each detail chosen with care, envisioning a day where the two of you could finally address the growing chasm between you. Lyney had promised he'd be there. He had assured you that he wouldn't let anything get in the way, that this date would be different. You clung to those words, the memory of his sincerity a beacon of light in the darkness of your doubts.
But now, with the fresh wound of being excluded from his show, you wondered if there was even a point to it all. Could this relationship withstand the storm that Lumine's presence had brought? Could Lyney truly change, or were his promises just empty words, blowing away with the wind? As the moon hung high in the sky, its silvery light casting a gentle glow over the city, you quickened your pace. The aquabus was waiting, its doors open, ready to carry you away from the scene of your shattered expectations. You stepped aboard, the soft hum of the engine a soothing backdrop to your tumultuous thoughts. The seats felt cold against your skin as you settled in, the world outside passing by in a blur of lights and shadows. The gentle lapping of water against the boat's hull seemed to echo the rhythm of your heart, both steady and uncertain. The city's lights danced on the water's surface, mirroring the dance of emotions within you. Your gaze remained fixed on the horizon, your thoughts a whirlwind of hopes and fears. You had invested so much into this relationship; into the memories you had shared and the dreams you had woven together. But now, those dreams seemed fragile, like delicate glass ready to shatter at the slightest touch.
-----------------------------------
The rain fell in relentless sheets, soaking you to the bone as you stood before Lyney's home. In your hand, you clutched a bouquet of rainbow roses, their vibrant colors dulled by the downpour. It was impossible to tell if the water streaming down your face was tears or rain, the two merging seamlessly in the haze of your hurt and frustration. With trembling fingers, you knocked on the door, each tap a testament to the storm raging within you.
The door creaked open, revealing Freminet, Lyney's shy and quiet brother. His expression was a mix of reluctance and confusion as he regarded you.
"Can I help you, (y/n)?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You struggled to keep your voice steady, your heart hammering in your chest. "Is Lyney home? I need to talk to him."
Freminet's confusion deepened, his brows furrowing. "Lyney's not here. He went out somewhere, and I don't know when he'll be back."
The weight of disappointment settled on your shoulders, a heavy burden that threatened to crush you. You managed to offer a weak smile; your gratitude sincere even in the face of your own pain. "Thank you, Freminet."
Turning away from the door, you walked back into the rain-soaked streets, the bouquet of roses now a poignant symbol of unfulfilled hopes. Your footsteps were heavy, each step echoing the ache in your heart. The plan had been simple – a picnic date in the picturesque mountain ranges of Elynas. You had arrived with a heart full of anticipation, bearing gifts, a lovingly prepared meal, and a bouquet of rainbow roses. But as hours turned into a day, all that greeted you was the relentless downpour. The sun had set by the time you had decided to confront Lyney directly. It was your anniversary, a day that was meant to celebrate your love and connection. Instead, it felt like a cruel reminder of the growing chasm between you. Your emotions were a tempest, a maelstrom of hurt, anger, and betrayal. The wind seemed to mirror your turmoil, howling through the city's streets.
As you walked back home, your clothes clinging to your skin, you spotted a scene that shattered what little was left of your resolve. There, at a bakery, stood Lyney and his sister Lynette, laughter and mirth in the air. And standing beside them was Lumine. You covered your mouth to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape, your willpower barely containing the torrent of emotions within you. The weight of the past weeks, the unfulfilled promises, and the pain of your anniversary – it all crashed down in that moment. You felt like an outsider, a shadow lingering on the fringes of their happiness. With a heavy heart, you turned away, your footsteps carrying you into the night. Each step was a heartbeat of agony, your soul aching with every footfall. The city's lights blurred through your tear-streaked vision, the raindrops masking your tears. Each footfall was a heartbeat of agony, your emotions raw and uncontained. The city around you seemed to blur, the rain masking the tears that fell from your eyes. In the quiet solitude of your home, the pain became a living thing, an ache that seeped into your very being. The anniversary that was meant to be a turning point had instead become a breaking point. And as you lay in your bed, tears staining your pillow, you couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shattered beyond repair.
Back in the solitude of your home, the pain became palpable, a living entity that refused to be ignored. Sleep eluded you, the darkness of the night only amplifying the darkness within your heart. Your mother's words echoed in your mind, a whisper of wisdom that you couldn't ignore. It wasn't right to stay in a place where you no longer felt welcome, and this relationship had become exactly that. The pain, the heartache, it was a weight you could no longer bear. Sleep never came that night. Instead, you lay there, tears staining your pillow, the echoes of shattered dreams reverberating through your thoughts. The decision had crystallized – it was time to quietly exit Lyney's life. The pain was too deep, the hurt too raw, and the love you once shared felt like a distant memory. As the night stretched on, you found solace in your mother's words, a bittersweet reminder that sometimes, leaving was the only path to healing.
In the days that followed, the pain remained a constant companion, an ache that settled deep within your heart. You made a silent decision to gradually withdraw from Lyney's life, the weight of unfulfilled promises and shattered dreams urging you to seek distance.
You found yourself avoiding the places where Lyney and Lynette performed. The familiar auditorium that once echoed with applause and magic now held too many memories tainted by disappointment. The sound of applause felt like a mocking reminder of the applause you had given him, the cheers that had always been for him but had never seemed to reach your ears. Your daily routine underwent a transformation, as if you were trying to rewrite the narrative of your life. Mornings were no longer marked by the smell of coffee brewing and the anticipation of the day ahead. Instead, you woke up to the quiet embrace of solitude, your footsteps leading you away from the places that held too many memories. The cafe you used to frequent was now replaced by a new haunt, where the barista didn't know your name or your story.
If anyone dared to bring up Lyney's name, you became evasive. Each inquiry felt like a dagger, a reminder of the pain you were trying to heal from. You mastered the art of changing the topic, a skill born out of necessity. When friends asked about him, you would smile and steer the conversation toward safer waters, your heartache hidden beneath a facade of normalcy. In every action, every choice you made, your quiet withdrawal from Lyney's life became more pronounced. There was the evening when you saw a poster advertising a new magic show by the twins, and you deliberately turned away. You didn't want to see him in the spotlight, a place that once held so much allure but now felt tainted by unfulfilled promises. Then there was the day you walked by the park where you had shared laughter and secrets, and instead of walking through it, you chose to take the longer route. The thought of stumbling upon him, of facing the painful truth of his absence, was a fear you couldn't bear.
The change was reflected in your living space. Photographs that had once adorned the walls were now tucked away in boxes; memories sealed away like precious relics. The pillow that once held the scent of shared dreams was replaced, the fabric absorbing the salt of your silent tears.
In moments of solitude, you found yourself haunted by memories. The sound of his laughter, the touch of his hand – they had become ghosts that whispered in the corners of your mind. Each time you felt the urge to reach out, you clenched your fists and reminded yourself of the pain that lingered beneath the surface.
And yet, despite your efforts, there were times when the walls you had built crumbled, and the anguish within you threatened to spill over. You would catch a glimpse of something that reminded you of him – a street magician performing tricks, a rainbow after a storm – and your heart would ache with a bittersweet mix of longing and resentment.
Despite your quiet exit, the silence from Lyney's side was deafening. It had been two weeks since the anniversary, and the absence of his presence was another knife that gutted you. Your withdrawal had been a decision to protect yourself, to heal from the wounds that had been inflicted, but it hadn't alleviated the pain. Fontaine, once a place of shared memories and dreams, had become tainted by the echoes of a love that hadn't stood the test of time.
The decision for a fresh start had been a gradual realization, a seed planted in your heart that had grown into an unwavering resolve. You couldn't continue to live in a place that held too many memories, too much pain. So, you made the monumental choice to leave Fontaine behind, to start anew in Liyue, where your maternal cousin, Ying'er, lived. The preparations had been meticulous. Each step, from packing your bags to selling belongings that held too much sentimental value, had been a farewell to the life you were leaving behind. The pictures that once adorned your walls, the trinkets that had once been gifts from Lyney – they were now memories stored in boxes, reminders of a past that you were letting go of. The decision was both liberating and heartbreaking, a duality that you carried with you as you stood at Romaritime Harbor.
The day had finally arrived, the culmination of weeks of quiet planning and emotional preparation. The ship that would take you to Liyue loomed before you, a vessel of possibilities and new beginnings. You hadn't informed anyone of your plans, not even Lyney. The only connection you had maintained was through the letters exchanged with your cousin. The details had been carefully arranged, and your goods were already on the ship, waiting to carry you toward your future. All you had was your backpack and a small travel bag, each item carefully chosen for its practicality and necessity. Your heart felt heavy as you stared at the ship, your emotions a whirlwind of anticipation and trepidation. The bustling harbor, with its scent of salt and sea breeze, seemed to mirror the churning sea of emotions within you.
The moments before you finally boarded felt surreal. You were on the cusp of a new chapter, a story yet unwritten. The bustling activity of the harbor was a stark contrast to the stillness within you. You took a deep breath, the cool air filling your lungs, and with that breath, you let go of the pain, the hurt, and the unfulfilled promises that had weighed you down. The ship's horn sounded, a deep, resonant note that seemed to echo through your very being. With determined steps, you walked toward the gangplank, your heart pounding in rhythm with the steps you took. As you crossed the threshold onto the ship, the world behind you blurred, and the world ahead held a promise of healing, growth, and a chance at finding yourself again.
----------------------
Lyney's nimble fingers worked swiftly, carefully packing away his props and magical tools backstage after yet another successful magic show. The applause from the audience still echoed in his ears, a reminder of his talents and the connection he had with his spectators. His assistants were bustling around him, the energy backstage almost as electrifying as the performance itself.
"Great job, everyone!" Lyney cheered, his smile genuine as he patted one of his assistants on the back. "That was a fantastic show."
The assistants shared relieved and satisfied smiles, their camaraderie evident in their interactions. As Lyney continued to pack his bags, he noticed his younger brother, Freminet, approaching him. However, Freminet's expression was slightly different – a mix of hesitation and something that seemed like offense.
Lyney furrowed his brows, curiosity piqued. "Hey, Freminet, what's wrong?"
Freminet glanced around to ensure they had a moment of privacy before speaking in a hushed tone. "Lyney, did you find someone else to help gather materials for the magic pockets?"
Lyney's confusion deepened, his brow furrowing further. "What do you mean? I've been waiting on you to give me the materials for making the magic pockets."
Freminet's expression softened, a touch of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "I must have misunderstood, then. I saw... I saw (y/n) at the Romaritime harbor, and I thought... I thought you had found someone else to help…."
Lyney's confusion deepened, his thoughts racing to make sense of the situation. "Wait, (y/n) was at the harbor? What was she doing there?"
Freminet shrugged, his voice soft as he apologized. "I'm sorry, Lyney. I didn't mean to jump to conclusions. It's just... I saw her, and I thought maybe she was there to help distribute the magic pockets."
Lyney's brow furrowed further, his concern growing. Why would you be at the harbor? The pieces of the puzzle didn't fit together in his mind. He clenched his jaw, trying to suppress the unease that threatened to bubble up.
Just then, a new assistant who was in charge of entrance and security approached, a curious expression on their face. "Lyney, who's (y/n)? I heard you mention their name."
Lyney's gaze flicked to the assistant, his heart skipping a beat at the mere mention of your name. He took a deep breath, steadying himself before he answered. "(y/n) is my girlfriend."
The assistant's face turned pale, a sudden shift in the atmosphere that Lyney couldn't quite place. Before he could inquire further, another assistant named Fabien chimed in, breaking the tension. "It's been a while since we saw (y/n) at the shows, hasn't it?"
Lyney's brow furrowed again, and he absentmindedly placed his fingers under his chin, a thoughtful gesture as he considered Fabien's words. It had been some time since you had appeared in any of his shows. Something wasn't adding up, and he couldn't ignore the gnawing feeling of unease.
As if sensing Lyney's thoughts, Jerome, the assistant who had asked about you, hesitated before speaking. "Lyney, I might have messed up."
Lyney turned his attention to Jerome, his eyes narrowing as he asked, "What do you mean?"
Jerome shifted uncomfortably, clearly troubled by whatever revelation he was about to share. "A few weeks ago, a woman named (y/n) came by during the performance at the Opera House. She told me that she was your girlfriend, but her name wasn't on the VIP list. I... I didn't let her in."
Lyney's eyes widened, shock and disbelief mingling on his face. "Wait, you're saying that (y/n) came to one of the shows, and you didn't let her in?"
Jerome nodded, his expression apologetic. "I'm sorry, Lyney. I just thought... I didn't want to go against protocol."
Lyney's eyes widened in shock, a gasp escaping his lips before he could stop it. It couldn't be possible that your name wasn't on the list. He had never excluded you from his shows before. The realization hit him like a physical blow, his heart pounding in his chest.
Serge, another assistant, chimed in, his voice carrying a mixture of matter-of-factness and concern. "Yeah, it's true. (y/n)'s name hasn't been on the VIP list for the past few shows."
Lyney's mind raced, piecing together the puzzle with growing dread. If your name hadn't been on the VIP list, it meant that you hadn't been attending his performances. But why? He couldn't comprehend why you wouldn't have been there. And then, Serge's words hit him like a lightning bolt, igniting a whirlwind of emotions he hadn't expected. Between all the chaos related to the prophecy, to the primordial sea, the fatui, he had forgotten to give your name once and the list had never been updated since then. "Why didn't you bring this to my attention, Serge?"
"I just assumed you and (y/n) broke up," Serge said, his tone apologetic. "Especially since you've been getting closer to Lumine lately."
Lyney felt like the ground had been pulled from beneath him. The assumptions, the misunderstandings – they were crashing down around him, leaving his heart in tatters. He wanted to protest, to explain that there was nothing between him and Lumine, that his heart still belonged to you. But the words caught in his throat, suffocated by the weight of his own silence.
Lynette's comforting hand on his shoulder brought Lyney back from the turmoil of his thoughts. Her touch was gentle, a silent reassurance that he wasn't alone in this. He met her gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of pain and regret, and she offered him a sympathetic smile.
"(y/n) will understand," she said softly, her voice carrying a soothing melody. "Misunderstandings happen, Lyney. You should talk to her and make it right. Maybe take her on a nice date, show her how much you care."
Lyney's gaze was distant, his thoughts a turbulent whirlpool. Make it up to you... The words echoed in his mind, and he suddenly realized how long it had been since the two of you went on a proper date. Months, it had been months. And then, like a punch to the gut, the memory hit him like a tidal wave. He had become so caught up in the chaos of his life – the prophecy, the secrets of the primordial sea, the Fatui's plans – that he had let something as important as your relationship slip through the cracks.
The anniversary... it had been a few weeks ago, and he hadn't been there. He hadn't kept his promise to be by your side. He clenched his jaw, the weight of his own neglect and forgetfulness crashing down on him. He remembered the day clearly now, how he had been sidetracked by Lumine's confession about never having eaten a croissant. It had led to a whimsical food adventure with Lumine and Lynette across Fontaine. He had lost track of time, of the significance of the day, as laughter and the joy of the moment had carried him away. He couldn't believe he had forgotten such an important day. The day that marked the beginning of your relationship, the promise of a shared journey. How could he have allowed himself to be so careless, so thoughtless? The realization was a knife in his heart, and he felt a heavy sense of regret settle over him like a shroud.
Lyney's mind raced with a newfound determination as Lynette's words echoed in his ears. He couldn't let this misunderstanding fester any longer. He had to make things right, to find you and explain, to apologize for his neglect. The realization of his mistakes had taken a toll on him, and he couldn't bear the thought of you feeling abandoned. You deserved better than that, and he was determined to show you just how much he cared.
Without a second thought, he left the backstage in a hurry, the urgency of his actions fueled by regret and love. He berated himself mentally for letting you down, for not being there for you when you needed him the most. You, who had embraced every part of him – his past, his affiliations with the Fatui, his ambitions, and his bond with Lynette. You had accepted him with open arms, without any grand expectations. The memories of your unwavering support, your soothing words, and your warm presence flooded his mind, adding fuel to his determination.
The path seemed endless as he ran, his heart pounding in his chest not only from the physical exertion but from the fear of what he might find. He had taken you for granted, assuming you would always be there, believing that your bond was unbreakable. But now, he was faced with the possibility that he had pushed you away, that you might have left because of his own mistakes. The image of you, the warmth of your smile, your unwavering support – it all flashed before his eyes as he reached your home. His breath was ragged as he halted in front of the door, his hand poised to knock. But before he could make contact, his heart sank at the sight before him. The door was slightly ajar, swinging open with an eerie quietness that set his nerves on edge.
He pushed the door open wider and stepped inside, calling out your name in a voice that betrayed both desperation and hope. "(y/n)?"
The sight that greeted him was nothing short of a gut-wrenching shock. The living room, once filled with warmth and memories, now lay barren and empty. The walls that had once held photographs and decorations were bare, the echoes of your presence erased from every corner. His breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening as his eyes landed on the center of the room. Everything was gone. All that remained was a solitary box in the center of the living room, accompanied by a dried bouquet of rainbow roses.
Lyney's fingers trembled as he reached for the dried bouquet of rainbow roses. His heart felt heavy as he carefully picked it up, his gaze fixated on the attached card. The edges of the card were slightly crinkled, and he noticed that it had been exposed to moisture before, the ink smudged in places. His chest tightened as he read the words, the sentiment behind them hitting him like a tidal wave.
"In a meadow full of Lumidouce Bells, you are my Rainbow Rose."
The corners of his lips twitched as he saw the lipstick stain in the shape of your lips, a bittersweet reminder of the affection you had poured into this note. And then, his eyes focused on the date below the message – the date of your anniversary. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. This was the gift you had prepared for him, the gesture of love that he had so conveniently forgotten.
His stomach churned with nausea, regret, and self-loathing. How could he have been so blind, so absorbed in his own world that he had overlooked something as important as your anniversary? He swallowed hard, his throat dry as he placed the bouquet and the note gently to the side of the box, a mixture of reverence and guilt in his touch.
With hesitant hands, he opened the box, revealing its contents – a treasure trove of memories that he had unknowingly neglected. Trinkets, photographs, tokens of your shared journey. His fingers trembled as he reached for a small jar filled with dried Lumidouce Bell petals – from the very flowers he had given you after his magic tricks, a gesture that had turned into a tradition between you. His heart ached as he held the jar, each dried petal carrying a memory, a moment of joy and connection.
His fingers continued to explore the contents of the box, pulling out gifts that he had given you. Each memory resurfaced as he sifted through the box, his fingers brushing against trinkets, photographs, and gifts that once held a special place in your hearts.
A perfume bottle – a fragrance that had always reminded him of you. He could almost smell the subtle floral notes as he held it in his hands, a memory of the times you had embraced him, your scent mingling with the magic of the moment.
Earrings – he remembered the way your eyes had lit up when you had opened the box containing them. He had chosen them carefully, wanting them to be a reflection of your uniqueness, just like the love you shared.
A soft shawl – he recalled draping it over your shoulders during chilly evenings, the two of you huddled close together as you watched the stars. The shawl had become a symbol of the warmth you brought into his life.
His gaze shifted to the photographs, memories frozen in time. Pictures of him and you, smiles and laughter shared in moments that now felt distant yet vivid. Some photographs included Lynette and Freminet, reminders of the bonds that were important to you as a couple. He traced his fingers over the images, his heart aching with the weight of his regret.
But there was more in the box, a neatly wrapped package that drew his attention. His heart skipped a beat as he unwrapped it, revealing a new pair of gloves and a magician's cane. His initials and yours were engraved on the base inside a heart, a symbol of the love that had once burned brightly between you. He remembered the times he had performed magic tricks for you, the way your eyes had lit up with wonder and amazement. He recalled the joy you found in those moments, and he felt a lump form in his throat as he realized how much he had taken that happiness for granted. He could almost hear your voice, the excitement as you had presented him with the gift, the promise that you would always support him in his endeavors.
Tears welled up in Lyney's eyes as he held the magician's cane, his grip tight as if he could somehow hold onto you through it. He could feel the weight of his own mistakes pressing down on him, the ache in his chest almost suffocating. His gaze fell to the bottom of the box, where a note lay tucked away. With trembling fingers, he picked up the note, his heart pounding in his chest as he read the words.
"In a meadow full of Lumidouce Bells, you were my Rainbow Rose. But in the end, I was just a Lumidouce Bell."
The words were stained with tears, a stark reminder of the pain and heartache you must have felt. He clenched his fist, the note crumpling slightly in his grip. How had he let things come to this? How could he have pushed you to a point where you felt like you were just another fleeting moment in his life? He had hurt you deeply, and it was his fault that you had felt pushed aside and abandoned. The guilt and self-hatred were almost suffocating, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he imagined the pain you must have experienced.
Without another moment's hesitation, Lyney stood up, the cane still clutched tightly in his hand. He had to find you, he had to make things right. The thought of you being in pain, feeling betrayed and alone, was unbearable. He rushed out of the house, the echoes of the memories still ringing in his ears as he made his way to the aquabus that would take him to the Romaritime harbor.
The journey felt like an eternity, each passing second a reminder of the time he had wasted, the moments he had missed. He trembled with fear and anxiety, his heart pounding as he thought about what he would say to you if he found you. Would you even be willing to listen? Would you give him a chance to make amends?
As the aquabus docked at the harbor, Lyney's heart raced even faster. He rushed off the boat, scanning the area desperately for any sign of you. He asked bystanders, his voice a mix of urgency and desperation, but no one seemed to know where you were. Panic gnawed at his insides as he realized that you were truly gone, disappeared without a trace. He stumbled towards the docks; his vision blurred by tears. The water stretched out before him, a vast expanse that mirrored the emptiness he felt inside. He dropped to his knees, his fingers gripping the edge of the dock as he stared out at the water. He felt a surge of rage and self-loathing, his heart consumed by a storm of emotions. How could he have allowed this to happen? How could he have hurt you to the point where you felt like you had no choice but to leave?
The pain was almost physical, a crushing weight that settled over his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He stared out at the water, his vision blurred by tears, his thoughts filled with memories of you – your laughter, your smile, the warmth of your embrace. He had taken it all for granted, assuming you would always be there. And now, he was faced with the harsh reality that he had pushed you away, that he had lost you. As the water lapped against the shore, Lyney's heart felt as though it was shattering into a million pieces. He clung to the cane he still held in his hand; his knuckles white from the force of his grip. He had always been the magician, the one performing tricks and illusions, making things appear and disappear. But now, it was he who was left with a vanishing act – you, the most important part of his life, had disappeared, slipping through his fingers like sand. It was a cruel twist, a bitter taste of his own medicine.
A voice echoed in his mind – Lynette's words about misunderstandings, about making things right. But how could he make things right when you were nowhere to be found? How could he apologize and explain when he didn't even know where you were? The uncertainty gnawed at him, the fear that he might never get the chance to tell you how sorry he was, how much he loved you. He wished he could perform a real magic trick, make you reappear in front of him, hold you in his arms and tell you how much he needed you. But life wasn't a magic show, and the consequences of his neglect were painfully real. He had failed you, failed to protect the love you had shared, and now he was left with the emptiness of your absence. The realization hit him with a brutal force – you were truly gone, and he had no one to blame but himself.
(p.s - there is another Lyney oneshot I am working on which i mentioned in one of my posts. Please let me know if you want to be tagged on that one and no it isn't a part 2 for this one.)
strictly (un)professional ― 18+ fwb, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff
master and servant. man and his right hand woman. you and sylus are labeled many things, but does love exist in many labels of your relationship?
jealousy incarnate ― 18+ jealousy, fluff, comfort
more than friends with benefits, definitely lovers. your relationship is one filled with banters, steamy nights, and secret strings attached... but when someone shows an interest in you, sylus won't hesitate to stake his claim for everyone to see
bane of existence ― suggestive, fluff
you and your lover are hailed and feared, but who would have guessed that behind closed doors, both of you are just that — lovers?
the man and his lady ― 18+ hurt/comfort
from strictly professional to lovers. everyone acknowledges you as his woman, but how far will he go for you when he realizes you are in danger?
𝐳𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞
── oneshots
nocturne of twilight ― 18+ angst, hurt/comfort
he is your husband and you are his wife. but of course you know the bitter truth—you will never be able to replace her
dawn's first light ― 18+ pregnancy, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort
as dawn breaks, a new chapter begins. now husband and wife in the truest sense, both of you embark on the path of happiness together. yet, bittersweet loose ends remain still. will they eventually stay in the past for good, or cast a permanent shadow over your lives?
a series of episodes of your life with the strongest sorcerer throughout the past and present
the deposed empress remarries ― 18+ remarried empress au
you are the picture-perfect empress of eastern empire… until your husband the emperor, zen’in naoya, demands a divorce! but you won’t take this lying down . . .
── oneshots
married on purpose ― crack, fluff, marriage of convenience
jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract
everything, but not anything ― angst
you were his last remainder of the happiest blue spring in his life, until your untimely demise. and on the death's door, he finally found you again
found you ― fluff/comfort, reincarnation au
in a world in which he isn't the strongest and you're the high school's sweetheart, fate brought you to him once again
fear ― angst, hurt/comfort, fluff
his best friend’s defection is still a hard topic for him to swallow, and it leads into an unexpected argument that spurs you to leave, only to unlock a new fear in him when you get into an unfortunate accident afterwards
heartbreak hotel ― crack, fluff, jealousy, hurt/comfort
so you're going on a three-day-two-night getaway trip with the one and only Gojo Satoru. the catch? you two have just broken up
belong to me ― angst to fluff, pining, comfort
the strongest sorcerer is your savior. you know he is far from your reach... but is it so wrong to love him—after the years you spent by his side?
𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢
── series
unholy matrimony ― suggestive, arranged marriage au
in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, fushiguro megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you
── oneshots
lover's quarrel ― angst, crack, hurt/comfort, fluff
you and Megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come
(not the) best kept secret ― college au, fluff (mutual pining)
cool, brooding and handsome. your crush on your brother's best friend is a secret you only keep to yourself. little do you know, he too feels the same. and so, your love story—and the trials and tribulations that come with it—begins
the birthday boy ― fluff
your boyfriend is indifferent towards his own special day, but with you, he actually finds it worth celebrating
my boyfriend will kick your ass! ― hurt/comfort, fluff
it's a date gone wrong when you get into an argument with your aloof boyfriend. but will he save you when it counts?
studying for dummies ― college au, fluff
you have an important exam coming up and are having a hard time to study. luckily, your boyfriend knows how to make you feel better
romeo and juliet ― modern royal au, fluff, mild angst
you were both young when you first saw each other. years later, you and your gentle childhood friend fall in love... but you're betrothed to someone else
𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨
── oneshots
enduring love ― 18+ hurt/comfort, fluff, angst
love is kind. love is patient. nanami kento taught you all that—love and the absolute durability it brings
drunken angel ― fluff/comfort
shibuya? what shibuya? nanami’s picking me up right now!
the secret wife ― crack, fluff
follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!
jealousy, jealousy ― crack, fluff
your husband seems to be immune to jealousy, and you've pretty much convinced yourself that he just doesn't have it in him... or does he?
happy marriage ― angst, crack, hurt/comfort, fluff
you have always wondered where did you and Kento go wrong. in the wake of your divorce, as you both returned to single lives, you and Kento would come to realize what constitutes a happy marriage is... and it takes more than just love
𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮
── oneshots
yours, indefinitely ― 18+ pregnancy, fluff, hurt/comfort
each memorable and meaningful moment shared by the two of you during your journey to parenthood ♡
𝐳𝐞𝐧'𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚
── oneshots
when you loved me ― angst, hurt/comfort
you loved him... but you have had enough of the shit you've experienced—his arrogance, horrible family and another woman—and decided to leave him for the sake of yourself and your child
The link is only in the original post inside an image, not as text, so here it is as plain text: https://glaze.cs.uchicago.edu/
and the paper about how it works: https://arxiv.org/abs/2302.04222
A bit of a TLDR for some questions I saw in the notes:
The team that created Glaze is from the University of Chicago. Their names are each listed in full on the Glaze download website. (This group of students/professors did this for their SPRING BREAK 😱 so go give them some love lol)
It is free to download. No, they won’t ask for or raise money from/for this project.(stated by one of the lead professors of the project).
Glaze is designed to protect artists’ STYLE--which a bunch of ai people have been deliberately fine-tuning their models to mimic (and specifically of current living artists--small or big).
It currently does not protect against composition/trace-like theft (as seen when run through img-to-img) but that would be protected by copyright anyway while STYLE is not.
The University Team has stated that they are dedicated to continuing to improve the tool, like fixing bugs (like overheating older computers by taking up lots of energy when Glazing--it currently runs on CPU so they’re trying to change that to GPU, I believe) and expanding the type of protection given to artists (like working against img-to-img theft).
It currently only works directly on your computer (phones not advised due to current overheating issue, no tablets, or iPads, and no website runthrough since that would be insecure to breaches/scraping/hacks)
It currently works best on painterly artwork, but can still be used on other forms (team is working on improving this)
IT WORKS BY calculating the changes each image needs for the best protection against style theft by AI, and adds tiny changes throughout the piece, so that your style will, for example, confuse the ai into seeing van gogh. But the ai thieves will see a regular image in your style, feeding it into their model labeled as your work (thus starting the “data poisoning”).
Do not post the original unGlazed piece of your artwork after posting your Glazed version (obviously)
The Team worked directly with over 1,000 artists that were being impacted by the ai theft. Because the team listened to those artists, Glaze accounts for regular art thieves too (i.e. Glaze can’t be removed/cropped etc. like signatures or watermarks when reposted. It’s just part of the image, so even if it ends up on another site and scraped, the Glazing is still in effect)
When you run your artwork through Glaze, no information is sent back to the Team. (Aka, no scraping on their part. The app receives information from the Team (like updates) but no information from you is given to them through the app. Basically Team servers ---> You and NOT Team servers <--->You) One-way data street.
Brief misunderstanding happened over an open-source license for the front-end part of the app. (Used open-source coding for front-end, not knowing that code’s use-license states it is only for other open-source uses, not closed-source (the back-end code of the app is private to prevent counter-counter measure developments)). The Team took down the app until they replaced the front-end code with code written from scratch by the team. They are now not in violation of that open-source license since they are no longer using it. (you have 30 days to remedy a license breach once informed; they did so in 2)
The Team is currently in touch with Japanese artists to better expand the tool for use to protect their art styles
From what I understand of it, Glaze is an AI tool designed to be anti-AI (Think Arnold Schwarzenegger in Terminator 2: one Terminator robot vs. all the other Terminators 😂)
You can download it from their website and also contact them through email there with any questions, problems, or bugs. The website: https://glaze.cs.uchicago.edu/
Hello! My friend's screenshot (shown here) made it to the finalists for the 2023 Final Fantasy XIV Fanfest art contest in the altered screenshots category! They would really love it if you could help vote for them if you're!
Their entry is entry A-22. <3
If you have a NA Final Fantasy XIV service account, you can vote here: https://fanfest2.finalfantasyxiv.com/2023-24/na/news/vote-for-your-favorite-art-and-video-contest-entries
They wanted me to help spread the word. It's their first time getting into something this big, so I wanna help boost it as much as I can!
Hello hello! Here is my masterlist for all my fics! I’ll update it as I go, so whenever I post a new fic it’ll show up here, so feel free to check back often! Banners are made by me; the characters were taken off google though! They’re basic, but you love them because it has your husband on it.
Masterlist for the women - HERE
You Get Injured! - You get injured on the job, what’s his reaction?
Proposals! - How he proposes to you!
You Die! - You die in front of him, how does he handle it?
When You Cry - How he comforts you when he sees you crying.
Spending Valentine’s Day with Him - How he handles Valentine’s day!
The Chase - You were so close to your destination, but then he caught you.
Lupical - You and Aether finally meet Razor’s lupical!
Immortal - He has no idea you’re immortal, not until he sees a spear through your torso!
Taste of Pocky - You have a crush on him and he returns your feelings. You two play the pocky game to “confess”.
Sleepless in Teyvat - You have insomnia. How does your boyfriend help you?
Older Sibling!Reader - You’re their older sibling. What’s your relationship like?
Otherworldly - You’re a demon from another world, what’s your relationship like?
Kisses - Steamy makeout with Aether (Male!Reader)
Cuddles - How he cuddles you
Where He Likes to Kiss You - He loves kissing you! But what’s their favorite spot?
When Someone Flirts with You - Someone’s bothering you and he comes to your rescue!
You Get Injured! - You get injured on the job, what’s his reaction?
Proposals! - How he proposes to you!
You Die! - You die in front of him, how does he handle it?
When You Cry - How he comforts you when he sees you crying.
Spending Valentine’s Day with Him - How he handles Valentine’s day!
Voice - You’re extremely shy and never talk. This makes him him think you’re mute, but what’s his reaction when he hears you speak for the first time?
Witty - You’re so shy and non confrontational, your boyfriend isn’t ready for when you fight back with words!
Come Home To Me - You were supposed to be gone on a simple commission, something that would’ve taken only a day. So, what happened and why aren’t you home?
sister!Reader hcs - How do your big brothers handle you?
Captive - One day he snapped and now he won’t let you go. So there’s only one way for you to be free | YANDERE WARNING
Family - You and Kaeya get into such a bad argument you break up. Shortly after, you find out you’re pregnant and during the winter festival in Mondstat you take your child for a visit. You didn’t expect to run into Kaeya again though.
Sleepless in Teyvat - You have insomnia. How does your boyfriend help you?
Birthday Gift - It’ s Kaeya’s birthday and you’re planning on confessing!
Pretty Poison - Your friend is in love with your boyfriend and someone taunts her, giving her a poison dagger to take you out.
Harbinger!Reader hcs - How does your relationship fare with you being the Fatui Harbinger?
Sweet Crimson Blood - He’s a vampire who doesn’t like to drink blood often. Unfortunately, that leads him to lose control and your blood just smells so sweet, he can’t help it.
Happy Birthday - It’s your birthday! How does your man help you celebrate it?
Otherworldly - You’re a demon from another world, what’s your relationship like?
Motherly - You work at an orphanage where the children have taken to calling you mom. Well, your boyfriend overhears today.
Manipulation - Toxin (my oc) has turned you against your boyfriend and demands you kill him or yourself.
Signora!Reader - He reacts to you, Signora 2.0.
Sleeping (y/n) - He reacts to you passing out from exhaustion. At least you’re finally getting some rest.
Where He Likes to Kiss You - He loves kissing you! But what’s their favorite spot?
When Someone Flirts with You - Someone’s bothering you and he comes to your rescue!
You Get Injured! - You get injured on the job, what’s his reaction?
Proposals! - How he proposes to you!
You Die! - You die in front of him, how does he handle it?
When You Cry - How he comforts you when he sees you crying.
Spending Valentine’s Day with Him - How he handles Valentine’s day!
The God Who Fell in Love - Venti’s known you for a while but you’ve never met him. He somehow fell in love but the only way he can express it is writing a song which manages to find its way to you.
Playful - You’re his playful girlfriend! How well does he handle it?
Voice - You’re extremely shy and never talk. This makes him him think you’re mute, but what’s his reaction when he hears you speak for the first time?
Melancholy - He knew that you would be leaving him one day… yet he still fell in love. That doesn’t mean you’re going to stay.
Captive - One day he snapped and now he won’t let you go. So there’s only one way for you to be free | YANDERE WARNING
Witty - You’re so shy and non confrontational, your boyfriend isn’t ready for when you fight back with words
Habits - You have a habit of randomly playing with your hair and outfit. You have no idea how much he adores it.
Immortal - He has no idea you’re immortal, not until he sees a spear through your torso!
Together - He knew that you would be leaving him one day, yet he still fell in love. This time, he won’t give up and he won’t let you leave him.
Taste of Pocky - You have a crush on him and he returns your feelings. You two play the pocky game to “confess”.
Zhongli x Reader x Venti - Relationship hcs
Sleepless in Teyvat - You have insomnia. How does your boyfriend help you?
Susceptible - You’re emotionally sensitive and he didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. So here’s his attempt at making it up.
The Accident - He accidentally hurts you with his powers. How does he make it up? What’s the aftermath?
Naivete - Venti dealing with you, his extremely naive partner.
Softest of Skins - How he reacts to your super soft skin.
Cuddles - How he cuddles you
Motherly - You’re more like a mother than girlfriend since he’s a bit childish.
Comfort - How Venti comforts you.
Missing - You get kidnapped on your way to your date.
Only Yours - Summary: No matter what Venti does, he can never forget you. So every day, he reminds you that he’s yours for eternity.
Sleeping (y/n) - He reacts to you passing out from exhaustion. At least you’re finally getting some rest.
Broken Flower - Venti belonged to you, until Lumine came into the picture. After slowly drifting apart, you find yourself in danger and he’s not there to save you.
Where He Likes to Kiss You - He loves kissing you! But what’s their favorite spot?
When Someone Flirts with You - Someone’s bothering you and he comes to your rescue!
You Get Injured! - You get injured on the job, what’s his reaction?
You Die! - You die in front of him, how does he handle it?
Proposals! - How he proposes to you!
When You Cry - How he comforts you when he sees you crying.
Spending Valentine’s Day with Him - How he handles Valentine’s day!
Cute - You and Diluc see a couple of performers and you make a comment. You definitely didn’t expect what he replied with.
Harbinger!Diluc x Reader - Diluc as a harbinger
Come Home To Me - You were supposed to be gone on a simple commission, something that would’ve taken only a day. So, what happened and why aren’t you home?
Meant To Be - He asks you for help raising a child that looks a lot like you two and keeps calling you mommy and daddy.
sister!Reader hcs - How do your big brothers handle you?
Captive - One day he snapped and now he won’t let you go. So there’s only one way for you to be free | YANDERE WARNING
Witty - You’re so shy and non confrontational, your boyfriend isn’t ready for when you fight back with words
Immortal - He has no idea you’re immortal, not until he sees a spear through your torso!
Sleepless in Teyvat - You have insomnia. How does your boyfriend help you?
Poisoned by Toxin - Toxin attempts to poison you, how does your boyfriend save you?
Rescue You - No matter what Diluc does, he can’t keep you safe. Now you’ve been taken and he won’t stop until he has you back in his arms.
Too Late - He’s been your best friend for years and you’ve never had the heart to confess. After taking a fatal hit in battle, you can’t help but confess.
Pretty Poison - Your friend is in love with your boyfriend and someone taunts her, giving her a poison dagger to take you out.
Harbinger!Reader hcs - How does your relationship fare with you being the Fatui Harbinger?
Susceptible - You’re emotionally sensitive and he didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. So here’s his attempt at making it up.
Happy Birthday - It’s your birthday! How does your man help you celebrate it?
Otherworldly - You’re a demon from another world, what’s your relationship like?
Manipulation - Toxin (my oc) has turned you against your boyfriend and demands you kill him or yourself.
Anxiety - He helps you through your anxiety attacks.
Softest of Skins - How he reacts to your super soft skin.
Signora!Reader - He reacts to you, Signora 2.0.
Sleeping (y/n) - He reacts to you passing out from exhaustion. At least you’re finally getting some rest.
Act of “Mercy” - You’ve always felt insecure next to your amazing boyfriend and Toxin finally takes advantage of it. She offers you a way out, a cure to all your problems.
Kabedon - He kabedons you.
Don’t Need You - Summary: You and Diluc had a wonderful relationship, until she came along. Now, he’s forgotten you.
Where He Likes to Kiss You - He loves kissing you! But what’s their favorite spot?
When Someone Flirts with You - Someone’s bothering you and he comes to your rescue!
Spending Valentine’s Day with Him - How he handles Valentine’s day!
You Get Injured! - You get injured on the job, what’s his reaction?
Proposals! - How he proposes to you!
You Die! - You die in front of him, how does he handle it?
Lupical - You and Aether finally meet Razor’s lupical!
Taste of Pocky - You have a crush on him and he returns your feelings. You two play the pocky game to “confess”.
Sleepless in Teyvat - You have insomnia. How does your boyfriend help you?
Harbinger!Reader hcs - How does your relationship fare with you being the Fatui Harbinger?
Older Sibling!Reader - You’re their older sibling. What’s your relationship like?
The Accident - He accidentally hurts you with his powers. How does he make it up? What’s the aftermath?
Cuddles - How he cuddles you
Where He Likes to Kiss You - He loves kissing you! But what’s their favorite spot?
When Someone Flirts with You - Someone’s bothering you and he comes to your rescue!
You Get Injured! - You get injured on the job, what’s his reaction?
Proposals! - How he proposes to you!
You Die! - You die in front of him, how does he handle it?
When You Cry - How he comforts you when he sees you crying.
Spending Valentine’s Day with Him - How he handles Valentine’s day!
Flowers - You want to go collect qingxin flowers with Xiao, but he’s worried because of the height at which they grow.
Serenade - He finds out you can sing! What’s his reaction?
Captive - One day he snapped and now he won’t let you go. So there’s only one way for you to be free | YANDERE WARNING
Poisoned by Toxin - Toxin attempts to poison you, how does your boyfriend save you?
Something New - You and Xiao have been together for two years, but it doesn’t feel like it, ever since Lumine came along. You finally decide it’s over since he’s found something new.
Follow You - Xiao doesn’t realize he’s in love, but he does know that he wants you to stay safe.
Harbinger!Reader hcs - How does your relationship fare with you being the Fatui Harbinger?
Happy Birthday - It’s your birthday! How does your man help you celebrate it?
Relationship Hcs - What’s it like dating Xiao?
Softest of Skins - How he reacts to your super soft skin.
Follow You - A girl who’s in love with your boyfriend spreads lies about you, hoping he’ll leave you for her. But he trusts you no matter what.
Where He Likes to Kiss You - He loves kissing you! But what’s their favorite spot?
When Someone Flirts with You - Someone’s bothering you and he comes to your rescue!
You Get Injured! - You get injured on the job, what’s his reaction?
Proposals! - How he proposes to you!
You Die! - You die in front of him, how does he handle it?
Spending Valentine’s Day with Him - How he handles Valentine’s day!
Kisses - You and Xingqiu are really good friends and you were 100% he didn’t reciprocate your romantic feelings, but turns out, you were wrong.
Playful - You’re his playful girlfriend! How well does he handle it?
Voice - You’re extremely shy and never talk. This makes him him think you’re mute, but what’s his reaction when he hears you speak for the first time?
Picnic Confessions - You’re best friends with Xiangling and Xingqiu’s best friend’s with Chongyun. Both Xiangling and Chongyun realize you and Xingqiu are in love with each other, but you two just won’t confess. So they decide to help.
Follow You - A girl who’s in love with your boyfriend spreads lies about you, hoping he’ll leave you for her. But he trusts you no matter what.
When Someone Flirts with You - Someone’s bothering you and he comes to your rescue!
You Get Injured! - You get injured on the job, what’s his reaction?
Proposals! - How he proposes to you!
You Die! - You die in front of him, how does he handle it?
When You Cry - How he comforts you when he sees you crying.
Spending Valentine’s Day with Him - How he handles Valentine’s day!
Serenade - He finds out you can sing! What’s his reaction?
Melancholy - He knew that you would be leaving him one day… yet he still fell in love. That doesn’t mean you’re going to stay.
Meant To Be - He asks you for help raising a child that looks a lot like you two and keeps calling you mommy and daddy.
Habits - You have a habit of randomly playing with your hair and outfit. You have no idea how much he adores it.
Together - He knew that you would be leaving him one day, yet he still fell in love. This time, he won’t give up and he won’t let you leave him.
Hold on to me - Childe takes you on an iceskating date… you can’t iceskate.
Lumine x Reader x Childe - Relationship hcs
Cooking Date - Childe and Lumine cook Liyue dishes for you, but also fight over you.
Poisoned by Toxin - Toxin attempts to poison you, how does your boyfriend save you?
Too Late - He’s been your best friend for years and you’ve never had the heart to confess. After taking a fatal hit in battle, you can’t help but confess.
Fearless - Childe and Lumine found out you’ve been kidnapped. They tear apart every single camp until they find you… but you don’t need them.
Pretty Poison - Your friend is in love with your boyfriend and someone taunts her, giving her a poison dagger to take you out.
Ultimatum - He was so careful, he was always safe, checking to see if he was being followed. But they found you and now they demanded you be killed… by him?
Happy Birthday - It’s your birthday! How does your man help you celebrate it?
Teasing - Teucer teases Childe about his relationship with you.
Otherworldly - You’re a demon from another world, what’s your relationship like?
Motherly - You work at an orphanage where the children have taken to calling you mom. Well, your boyfriend overhears today.
Softest of Skins - How he reacts to your super soft skin.
7th Sense - He can tell your in danger and thankfully, he gets there just in time to save you.
Signora!Reader - He reacts to you, Signora 2.0.
Sleeping (y/n) - He reacts to you passing out from exhaustion. At least you’re finally getting some rest.
Kabedon - He kabedons you.
Crazy and Sweet - One minute you’re overly motherly, the next you’re a blood thirsty monster.
Where He Likes to Kiss You - He loves kissing you! But what’s their favorite spot?
When Someone Flirts with You - Someone’s bothering you and he comes to your rescue!
You Get Injured! - You get injured on the job, what’s his reaction?
Proposals! - How he proposes to you!
When You Cry - How he comforts you when he sees you crying.
Spending Valentine’s Day with Him - How he handles Valentine’s day!
Voice - You’re extremely shy and never talk. This makes him him think you’re mute, but what’s his reaction when he hears you speak for the first time?
Witty - You’re so shy and non confrontational, your boyfriend isn’t ready for when you fight back with words
Habits - You have a habit of randomly playing with your hair and outfit. You have no idea how much he adores it.
Zhongli x Reader x Venti - Relationship hcs
Insecurity - Zhongli attracts attention every time you two go out. You can’t handle it anymore and he finds you as you fall apart.
Poisoned by Toxin - Toxin attempts to poison you, how does your boyfriend save you?
Zhongli x Reader x Lumine - Relationship hcs
Too Late - He’s been your best friend for years and you’ve never had the heart to confess. After taking a fatal hit in battle, you can’t help but confess.
Pretty Poison - Your friend is in love with your boyfriend and someone taunts her, giving her a poison dagger to take you out.
Sweet Crimson Blood - He’s a vampire who doesn’t like to drink blood often. Unfortunately, that leads him to lose control and your blood just smells so sweet, he can’t help it.
Save You - You’ve trapped yourself inside your mind and you don’t want to let anyone in. Well, Zhongli won’t let you do that to yourself.
Changes - You and Lumine just don’t seem to be Zhongli’s type since he’s so proper and all. Well, apparently, you’ve rubbed off on him.
My Dragon - You’ve been curious about Zhongli’s dragon form and he finally shows you.
My (f/n) - Zhongli loves and cherishes you above all else. One day, you’re snatched away from him and the world turns black for him. Yet somehow, a thousand years later, he sees you again.
7th Sense - He can tell your in danger and thankfully, he gets there just in time to save you.
Celebration - It’s Zhongli birthday and you just found out. Now you have to plan a celebration for him!
Act of “Mercy” - You’ve always felt insecure next to your amazing boyfriend and Toxin finally takes advantage of it. She offers you a way out, a cure to all your problems.
Kabedon - He kabedons you.
Crazy and Sweet - One minute you’re overly motherly, the next you’re a blood thirsty monster.
Scaramouche:
Ultimatum - He was so careful, he was always safe, checking to see if he was being followed. But they found you and now they demanded you be killed… by him?
Ice Cream Kisses - Chongyun takes you on a cute little ice cream date!
The Accident - He accidentally hurts you with his powers. How does he make it up? What’s the aftermath?
Jealousy - You spend a little too much time with Razor and Chongyun can’t help but get jealous.
Spending Valentine’s Day with Him - How he handles Valentine’s day!
Albedo:
When You Cry - How he comforts you when he sees you crying.
Spending Valentine’s Day with Him - How he handles Valentine’s day!
Act of “Mercy” - You’ve always felt insecure next to your amazing boyfriend and Toxin finally takes advantage of it. She offers you a way out, a cure to all your problems.
Kabedon - He kabedons you.
Poly:
Lumine x Reader x Childe - Relationship hcs
Zhongli x Reader x Venti - Relationship hcs
Cooking Date - Childe and Lumine cook Liyue dishes for you, but also fight over you.
Zhongli x Reader x Lumine - Relationship hcs
Fearless - Childe and Lumine found out you’ve been kidnapped. They tear apart every single camp until they find you… but you don’t need them.
Changes - You and Lumine just don’t seem to be Zhongli’s type since he’s so proper and all. Well, apparently, you’ve rubbed off on him.
streamer! genshin x reader
summary: a game has been released entitled genshin impact, consisting of otherworldly abilities relying on the basic elements of nature. the game follows the story of an interdimensional traveling twin in search of their other half. along this journey, they meet different characters that live in this world. including you.
notes: since you guys really like this, i've made a masterlist just for this series! the characters are listed in alphabetical order, as opposed to regional :))
more characters will be added if requested :D
3) Likes: I like the variety of the gameplay. It’s nice to have some deviation from the traditional “visual novel” style gameplay of these sorts of romance simulations. The complication of the characters is also nice; the creators have done an amazing job of making the characters not one-dimensional, so it’s very nice to see. :) And the sound, both the music and the voice acting (Chinese).
Dislikes: The fact that certain SSR cards are locked behind high paywalls. I can understand why and that essentially it’s their business, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Haha. The other thing that sometimes really bugs me is MC’s treatment of the guys. Her personality is really irksome sometimes, but I suppose it gives her room to develop as a character as the game goes on.
4) Hard to say what changes I’d make. From a business standpoint, I’d lower the paywalls such that more people can access it. I’d rather do a longstanding hook on more people than just leech off of the players willing to pay for it. From a gameplay perspective, everything is overall good, but I would definitely add some more opportunities for repeats in the elite missions. Haha. 3 just isn’t enough sometimes. :) Otherwise everything else is good. :D
5) Uhhh... I’ll be honest, I don’t deserve to win anymore than any other person in this giveaway. LOL. We’re all participating because we’re fans of this series and would love the opportunity to get some official merch from it, even more so that it’s the eagerly-awaited wedding event. :) But I’d like to get one, if possible. Hahaha.
Thanks for taking the time to read through this~ Stay safe! <3
