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ken-jaku · 3 months

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pretty nose, pretty boy. zayne from love and deepspace

there's a huge chance my phone may have distorted the quality to make it look like he has a dorsal hump but idc! i like the idea of it sm that im gonna lie to myself!

content warnings. suggestive content (smut), pussydrunk!zayne, both fem!reader and zayne are virgins, fingering, oral via face riding, zayne has a dorsal hump, semi!public sex (at akso hospital for the plot😼). vague mentions of zayne's asphyxiation kink, brief mentions of pining, nervous/anxious reader. verbal consent (zayne strictly wants words, no hums or nods). zayne is naturally dominant in this... idk what came over me. overstimulation. cumming right after an orgasm cause "love knows no bounds" :D mention of jealousy towards rafayel. reader has doctor/patient kink? all this on the first day of dating is crazyyy shit writing, haven't published anything since 2016 and that was a 5 chapter, 300 words each, wattpad story on hanahaki💀 huge chance i might edit this again later

word count. 5.09k words

"zayne?" your words are almost like a whisper as you squirm on the couch, impatience and anxiety riddling you as you can't wait to get dinner and execute your plan of either a.) finally getting a longer kiss compared to the two-second one you had earlier or b.) getting said kiss and have him hang out for a few more minutes after he walks you to your apartment. your boyfriend of just a few hours, which still feels rather unreal, sat across the room from you, hard at work. his long, scarred fingers tap away at the keyboard before him. a soft, short hum leaves his lips in acknowledgement of you.

said hum goes, unintentionally, ignored as you couldn't stop staring at him. the way his long eyelashes gently graced his lids, his nose twitching ever so slightly to shift his glasses as he focused on the computer screen. his beauty- his very being was captivating.

you never noticed it before but his nose had a small, almost unnoticeable, dorsal hump. soon enough, your mind went where no one's should be, especially on the day you confess and start dating. you wanted to fuck his face, plain and simple. sure, it was a bit too soon to have those thoughts but, really. who cares? you cuffed a pretty man with a pretty nose- you just can't help yourself!

"are you alive over there?" your physician's monotone voice almost makes you jump, "you've been staring at me for quite a while," his voice now laced with faux concern, "i couldn't get your attention for almost a minute."

you clear your throat, smoothing out your dress as you stand up. your fingers picked at each other as you got closer to him. zayne's mind drifts briefly from the task at hand as he watches you through the corner of his eyes, taking in the long silk sundress you chose to wear. the dress hugged all the right places and was quite flattering on you. for it to be the first formal piece of attire he'd see on you- it was like a blessing.

"when are we gonna leave? our reservation's in thirty minutes." you sigh, leaning over his desk and taking a peek at his computer before ultimately resting your head on the wooden surface, staring at his hands as the unfamiliar terms and long words on the screen annoyed you to no end.

"soon, my love, and stop hurting yourself. we won't be late." he places his left hand in yours, eyes not leaving the screen before him as he holds his breath in your presence. that was the end of it. you knew him well enough to know that. your begging would only result in the same monotone voice, the only difference being the almost unnoticeable annoyance that laced his words. it made no sense to fight back. you struggle not to release another sigh, your eyes never leaving the handsome man in front of you.

well, at least he has his beauty going for him despite being strict.

your hand reaches up to his face, delicately tracing the lines of his nose, following the curve of his high nose bridge upwards with your finger. just as you barely tilt his glasses, he stops you— his large, cold hand gripping your wrist. the interaction sends shivers down your spine as his eyes stare into yours with an intensity that leaves you wanting.

zayne finally lets out a breath, "is there something on my face for you to be staring at it for so long? the more you distract me, the longer this will take." your nickname follows— the word leaving his mouth sweetly in comparison to the others.

a murmur leaves your pretty, glossy lips, having swiped your tongue over them one too many times in the past three minutes, "you just have a pretty nose..." you trail off.

your physician tilts his head, eyes never leaving your face as he reads your body language. you were nervous- that was obvious but you were also hiding something, "what do you like about it?"

your cheeks feel warm and you find yourself averting his gaze as your head leaves the desk, the area now occupied with your elbows, "you have a dorsal hump."

he hums, "that i do... is that all you like?" your breath hitches and you cross your legs.

planting your palms on the wooden surface, you quickly attempt to rise from the desk only to find yourself being pulled back into place. zayne had dragged you back to him with the same singular hand that gripped your wrist. he was enjoying this, you could tell. it was never in his nature to pry so deeply even when it pertained to him so to see him show his true colours the day you begin dating...

"zayne..."

"come here." he hoarsely whispers as he stands up, taking a step closer to you before pulling you towards him, closing the distance between you two. his hand finally lets go of your wrist, opting to place both of them at the sides of your body, resting them on the desk behind you. you feel yourself leaning further against the table as he gets closer, until eventually, you find yourself almost sitting on it. he had you trapped.

zayne sighs, his head now resting on your shoulder as you eye the way his hand moves. just barely brushing your hip, he slides his hand down from your lower arm into your palm. one thing about zayne: he frequently has dreams about you- perverted ones at that. he was never proud of them but, god, did he indulge in them whenever they came along. you'd walk around the hospital every week, clueless about how he wished to secretly take you, not in front of everyone, though- he wants it to be away from prying eyes, but never prying ears.

while roaming akso and attending to duties, he'd regularly spot you in the corner of his eye- he doesn't like to admit it but he does make an attempt to cross paths with you at least once before seeing you in his office when you come for appointments. in your little skirt, you'd bend down to receive the same drink from the same secluded vending machine- the plush of your thighs on display for him to see. the sight would always leave his throat dry as he either speaks to you, forcing himself to let go of all the lewd thoughts and have a proper conversation, or he turns around quickly, as if he'd committed a sin, only to come back to that very same area every two weeks to commit the same act.

sometimes, just as he's about to address you, he hears your friend calling out to you with a sulky demeanour. it was always that same friend named rafayel too, never anyone different. deep down, he wishes for that kid to stop clinging to you like a lost puppy, showing up at akso, begging for your attention as he claims he fell down the stairs or got a cramp in his finger. he also occupies a hospital bed from time to time by admitting himself when he really doesn't need to but that's the least of zayne's grievances with him. zayne's always dreamed of wanting everyone, especially rafayel, to know you're his. and now that you two are dating, he's one step closer to said desire.

you feel two pecks on your shoulder blade and one on your palm. he brings your hand up to cup his cheek, "tell me what else you like about my nose, (name)." his tone was more commanding than anything, seemingly laced with jealousy and annoyance- not towards you, of course- never towards you. he'd never spoken to you that way before but, god, do you like it.

you watch as his fingers graze yours softly, his eyes only ever leaving yours when he closes them, revelling in the warmth your hand brings his cold, freezing body.

"i... " you feel his knee grazing your thigh as you try to spit something out.

"you can say it. no matter how vile and vulgar your thoughts may be... i want you to say it," after reassuring you, he asks once more, "what else do you like about my nose, (name)?"

a soft gasp leaves your lips as you feel his knee push further up your dress, "say it," he whispers, his lips now grazing your ear as his hand reaches for the back of your neck.

"i love how easy it looks to ride, zayne, fuck-" your words get muffled as zayne kisses you intensely. the feeling has you dizzy as the farthest you've gotten were the pecks initiated by you earlier that day and the ones he initiated just a few minutes ago.

his other hand grips your waist tightly as he presses himself into you further, his hands now the only thing keeping you from falling back onto the table. with the way he handled you, it was like he couldn't get enough. your very scent allured him.

"is this okay?" his lips withdraw yours as he begins leaves pecks on your cheek and neck as he awaited your response.

a nod and hum left you as you stared at the windows, looking at the reflection and taking pleasure in the way he kissed your body. but he stops.

as you were about to turn to him and ask what was wrong, a strict stare was all it took. his brownish-green eyes pierced into yours in the reflection of the glass. his eyebrows raised as he waited for something from you. he wanted words. he needed to hear, through proper verbal communication, that you wanted this.

"yeah..." you sound almost breathless facing him, "yeah, i wanna do this."

a small smile reaches his lips before he kisses you again. more deeply, more lovingly. he was relishing in your very being. the girl who he'd pined for was finally his after fifteen long years.

the hand gripping your hip would soon spread around your waist as the other rested on the fabric covering your thigh—a fabric that he would push up in annoyance as he needed to feel you bare.

his thumb would involuntarily twitch, grazing and pushing at your cunt as he squeezed and rubbed the plush of your inner thigh, the cold pressure being felt through the sheer panties you wore had you shivering.

"zayne.." your impatience was getting the best of you and zayne could see it. he chuckles as he bunches your silky sundress up at your waist and hooks his long pointer and index fingers around the last piece of fabric that bars you from him- teasing him with the dampness that left it looking a deeper colour than usual.

before he can ask, you give him the confirmation he needs, raising your hips, "take it off... please?"

he obeys, a little too willingly as if his patience was also wearing thin, and a soft 'fuck' leaves his lips as he stares at your dripping cunt, the vulgar word shocks the both of you.

he can only chuckle as he eyes the dress straps that had fallen off your shoulder, "the things you do to me." ever so slowly, his cold hands push the straps further down, pulling your arms from out of it. your breasts were now on display for him as the dress slid down, grazing your sensitive nipples in the process and stopping at your diaphragm.

you look away, gnawing on your lip. it set a weird feeling in your stomach knowing he was fully dressed in his doctorly attire while you were bare, exposed for him to see- for him to examine. you feel his hand rest back on your cunt, the other hand grasping your chin to look at him. he wasn't overly rough but the hold was quite strong and decisive. every breath and movement from zayne exuded dominance.

"don't hide from me, pretty girl, you know better than that." the pet name has you shuddering, paired with the fact that he began to gently prod at your entrance with his index finger before allowing you to suck him in completely, his thumb softly touching your clit occasionally as he inspects you.

his lips find yours once more, his tongue prodding your mouth and you can't help but whine at the feeling as he slowly introduces another finger. with every touch from him, you feel your breath leaving and your hands gripping harshly at the edges of the tables, almost piercing your skin.

zayne eventually touches something. something that leaves you even wetter than before. his fingers prodded and rubbed at you- at that spongy spot in your cunt that's been begging to be touched by him for a while.

"oh, wait- fuck!" you break the kiss as an involuntary hiccup leaves you. zayne grunts in annoyance, pushing lips back onto yours in an instant- his fingers increasing in momentum as he targets that pleasurable spot.

you find yourself sliding off the edge of the table as your body trembles with every thrust. despite still gripping the table, you almost collapse onto your knees if not for the man in front of you catching you. all while holding you, zayne doesn't let up- the squelching sounds your wet entrance makes flood the room, fueling him to keep going. he was so hell-bent on making you cum one way or another.

"c'mon, be a good girl for me. do this one thing for me 'n i'll let you ride my face. c'mon pretty girl." you couldn't see his eyes anymore. his fringes covered them as he looked down at your cunt, taking in the lewd noises that followed with every thrust of his finger and the clear, wet mess that started to drip down your thighs.

you can't help but nod, "anyth-ing for you." the abuse on your cunt and the way his mouth kisses at your nipples and sternum were taking your breath away. he was touching at all the right spots at all the right times.

your head throws itself back as the increasing pressure builds up in your stomach and you can't help but hold his wrist in an attempt to try and push him off of you. zayne, still, is relentless in his actions but he does raise his head to read your expressions and listen to your mumbled, repetitive 'yes's affirming him of how badly you want it.

"gonna cum. gonna cum, please lemme cum." you repeat over and over again as your nails dig crescent moon shapes into your lover's lower arm.

zayne chuckles, his fingers continuing at the same pace, never ceasing, "you can come whenever you want to, lovely. your hand is what's pushing me away."

your eyes shut tightly as the orgasmic feeling washes over you, basking in the complete and utter loss of the control you have over your body. you feel your eyes roll into into the back of your head behind your lids and your mouth parts as broken, whiny moans leave your lips. your lover smiles as he feels your walls spasm, clamping around his fingers repeatedly, harmonious with the way your thighs shiver.

you come down from your high rather slowly and zayne lifts you up, helping you move closer to the couch while you try to get your eyes to focus and attempt to beat the fatigue washing over you.

"you said you wanted to ride me, hmm?" zayne hums, itching in anticipation unbeknownst to you. you nod a bit nervously as you try to catch your breath, watching as he sits down and brings you to him by your waist, bunching your dress at your hips in the process. your cunt was almost lined up with his mouth.

"zayne, wait. i think i'm still s-ensitive," you say between gasps as you feel his breath fanning out onto your clit.

a hum leaves his lips and he looks at his watch briefly, "i don't think we have that much time, my love. it'll feel good, i promise. but if you want, we can wait until later tonight?" he kisses your thigh. there was no way in hell you were going to 'wait until later tonight.' the ache in your cunt from the anticipation would be too much for you to handle.

"hmm, it's okay..." you shake your head as you whisper tiredly, the post-orgasm drowsiness hitting you hard. he smiles as he lays down, taking you by the hand and leading your body closer to his face. his hands reach up towards his glasses. daintily holding them by the frame, he slips them off his face to place them on the glass table to the side of you.

the sight makes you pout and zayne, being zayne, catches it.

"what? do you also like my glasses too?" he smirks, bringing your hips to lay on him. you nod as you hesitantly let yourself be guided onto his chest.

"and when you get too rough and you break them, what then?" he questions, sass lacing his tone while his eyes focus on your cunt, watching it drip all your cum all over his shirt. the fact that he said 'when' and not 'if' had your body twitching. still, annoyance riddles your body and you roll your eyes. he's always ten steps ahead of you.

“ugh.. you’re so…” you’re at a loss for words and zayne can’t help but smile at your reaction.

he grips your hips roughly pulling you up to his face, "hmm...that's enough banter for now. don't be shy. 'm gonna ease you into it. and yes...i'll be fine, i promise."

with the constant reassurance, you build up enough courage to sit on him and almost immediately does his tongue find your clit, occasionally tracing around your labia and prodding your entrance.

"ha— zayne. wait!" a high-pitched strangled moan leaves your lips and the man grunts under you as your body lifts itself off of him in shock. zayne feels his eyes almost roll into the back of his head as he briefly catches a glimpse of how your pretty, puffy cunt pulsates around absolutely nothing. as he comes to his senses, his arms quickly lock around your legs, bringing you back down and keeping you in your rightful place— on top of him.

your moans get louder and louder and soon enough zayne finds himself humming satisfyingly into you, sending vibrations all throughout. to hear your cries of pleasure just from this, alone? while you tasted so good? zayne was in his own icy wonderland.

"waited years for this pussy and it's finally mine." he mumbles deliriously, and you nod, "all your— hmpf, fuck, all yours." he was fucking insatiable, arms tightening around your thighs as he forced you to press further down onto him. tears start to well in your eyes.

at this rate, zayne's cock was harder than ever before and you, yourself, notice that as you lean back, palm accidentally pressing down onto his erection, touching on the bounds of both pain and pleasure for him. a soft moan leaves him as he takes his mouth off of you for a moment, thick cock throbbing with want.

"wait," he says between shallow gasps for air, "not yet. i just want to focus on you right now... can you let me do that?" you nod and he slaps your thigh, which quickly has your spurting out multiple 'yes's in an apologetic tone.

you feel your body lifting to which you whine, tears falling in thick globs as you unconsciously hump the air for some needed friction, your pussy once again clamping around nothing, as you assume some sort of punishment was about to begin.

zayne watches you amusingly. it was quite a pathetic sight- one he loved, don't get him wrong but the thoughts that flowed into his mind weren't nice— slapping your ass, pinching your thigh or edging you every time you forgot to properly address him, tears falling down your face as you apologize and pout, begging to be fucked. god, he could feel his cock twitch in his pants.

it was the first official day of dating, though, so he wanted to cut you some slack and slowly ease you into things.

he finally puts you back down- noticeably, a bit further up his face. his arms lock you back in place, preparing himself in case you decide to run away from him again.

if anything, he'll ease you into things by forcing you to fuck yourself one orgasm into the other on his face.

"ride my face. fuck yourself using my nose." those words have your cunt spasming as you don't hesitate to listen to him.

your body jerks slowly as you ground down on him, his tall nose repeatedly tapping and prodding at your clit. zayne doesn't hesitate to continue his past ministrations, his tongue flat against you, sliding across your folds with every thrust from you.

"z-zayne. fuck." you moan as you grip the couch's arm for dear life, your body unconsciously speeding up as you look at the boy beneath you sitting so still and pretty for you with his eye half-lidded as his mouth softly parted. and, of course, the stimulation from his nose was just not helping.

zayne was drenched, soaked with your juices and he wouldn't let up. air lessened with each breath for him but he didn't care. in fact, he pushed his head further up into you. he loved it. he loved drowning in you.

"would love to have you sit on my face more often," he murmurs to himself as he feels your fingers entangle themselves in his hair, thighs locking and trembling around his head from the vibrations. zayne pushes his head up into your cunt even further, the hump on his hose throwing you for a loop.

"zayne. zay—fuck, fuck. oh, god!" you just couldn't get his name out of your mouth. it's as if he was currently conditioning you to focus on him— to know only him in this moment. he smiles, "it's alright, you can cum, baby. no one's stopping you. get off on my nose and mouth, baby. that's it." the sounds his face created with your pussy were oh, so lewd. it filled the entire room as your physician acted like you were a cup of fresh water waiting for him after he stayed in the sahara for a little too long.

soft whimpers leave your lips as you feel yourself sobbing. the pressure building up was too intense.

"come on, give it to me." the man under you grunts as he feels his dick twitch incessantly. no matter how badly he wanted to, zayne just couldn't resist palming himself. his tongue continues to fuck you sloppily, relishing in the act as he lapped up the savoury, dripping cum from you and spit from him like a dog. all while he played with your nipples, either groping, slightly grazing, or circling them. you name it.

you feel your legs thrash as a loud moan rips from your throat before you even realize what's coming. your body can't stop shaking and all you see is white yet zayne doesn't stop eating you out, his lips now encircling your clit and as he grips your legs even stronger, forcing you to relish in the harsh suction and vibrations as he moans along with you from the sight of you before him.

you squirt all over him, short bursts leaving your cunt to shower the man under you. the shock and embarrassment don't even last long as a gasp in pleasure leaves you- zayne was still on you, eyes closed as he lapped up every last drop you had offered him. he realized you came, his dick leaking pre-cum and twitching from the fact, but never truly processed it, fucking you through your orgasm and into the next one while not taking into account your sensitivity. you had no time to catch your breath.

"h—hey. wait... zayne!" you squirm. he hums unconsciously as he digs himself further into your cunt, overstimulating you with the flicks of his tongue. it's as if he can't stop. it's as if can't hear you. or maybe he just doesn't want to hear you.

"no more! hmphf— shit!" you repeatedly tap his shoulder as you continue to shake, your hips unconsciously still grinding into his face while your upper body rocks with sensitivity, nipples harder than ever and goosebumps riddling your skin. your thighs were practically squeezing his head now.

"one more for me baby, one more. please. just one more for me." zayne murmurs as he gasps for air. he looks as if he's lost his mind. his hair is dishevelled, with some parts of his fringes sticking up while the rest just barely covers his eyes. he really looks like a pervert that came straight out of a hentai in the moment. it was quite a sight.

the longer you stare, the more he looks blurry- your vision was becoming obscured, your senses simultaneously heightening as a result while the pressure in your tummy begins to build once more.

"hng— zayne, 'm gonna cum!" you sob, voice booming throughout the entire office as you feel yourself twitch, overstimulation ravaging your body. zayne's nails dig further into your hips, breaking skin, and the sharp pain allows you to finally let go. your back arches as your orgasm engulfs you, cum squirting out of you in bursts smaller yet more powerful than earlier.

"oh fuck—" a low, cracked whine leaves your boyfriend, his neck arching as he struggles to contain himself from quivering. his body shudders as he gently kisses your cunt and thighs. a fucked out look paints his face as he tries to catch his breath, his hand softly rubbing your waist in an attempt to calm you— and himself— down as he feels unusually lightheaded.

silence follows for a bit as you come down from your high and push yourself off of your lover's face who seemed very quiet—and not the usual quiet. there was something different about the air. hesitantly, you sit on his chest.

"zayne," you whisper nervously, "are you okay?"

zayne clears his throat, blinking harshly at the ceiling with his chest still heaving as his ears and cheeks are dusted red- his pretty mouth red, swollen and glistening with you. he swallows, avoiding eye contact with you as he tries to collect himself. you've never seen him like this... so shy, so embarrassed.

the silence that follows as your question goes unanswered causes anxiety to riddle through you, "did i do something wron-" "no," he interrupts not wanting to upset you in any way, "just... a minor miscalculation."

feeling relaxed, you push yourself down further onto his waist in an attempt to lay on top of him, "a minor miscalculation? what-"

oh.

you're shocked... and flattered as you feel a deeply soaked wet spot on his pants.

"i was too distracted and forgot about resisting my orgasm," he murmurs, not making eye contact. you smile, "hmm, i can tell. but don't be embarrassed, zayne. i find it a little hot... well, very hot." you chuckle. the reassurance was nice but, truth be told, he wanted his first load with you to be inside your glistening cunt, with you begging and pleading with him to give it to you, just like in his dreams.

one side of his lip curls up slightly, "i still can't believe i orgasmed untouched. though, this is my first time so i suppose it's not unusual."

just as you're about to lay on his chest, your body jerks upwards, "wait, what? you're a virgin, too? how'd you even know to do all th-"

"human anatomy," he interrupts, "being a surgeon, your physician and your boyfriend- it's quite necessary. and though i don't watch, a common assumption would be pornography."

embarrassment riddles your face and you mentally berate yourself for asking a stupid question as he kisses you, "... and i may have read some forums." his tone was soft and wispy, almost slipping past your ears. curiosity runs through you as you look up past his head at the computer. oh, that search history needed to be investigated.

"don't even think about it. i have a computer for work and another for personal use." he rolls his eyes.

gently, he lifts you from his waist and places you onto the couch just as he rises from it. he begins unbuttoning the cuffs of his dress shirt, wiping your cum residue from off his face onto the sleeves, "relax a bit. you need to come down from your high. we shouldn't miss the reservation if we leave in a minute... or three."

"wait, what about your work?"

zayne stops untying his tie to look at you. his head tilts and his eyebrow raises in the most comical way possible as if to say 'you can't be serious right now.'

"okay, fair. and.. your clothes? do you have an extra pair?" the moment you close your mouth you see zayne open a large closet filled with various button-ups and dress pants for varying occasions. as you take a closer look, you notice that they're organized by gradient and paired. not a single piece of clothing was out of place.

it was your turn to give him 'the look' as you scanned the closet before pointing at a paired outfit, a black turtleneck with matching dress pants. looking in that direction, zayne nods, taking the clothes from out the storage unit and undressing himself.

you feel your cheeks warm as you catch a glimpse of his bare back. you have yet to see him undressed and, to be honest, you don't want it to be now considering the two of you had plans after dinner. the sooner you fix your clothes the faster that time will arrive so that's what you do.

looking away, you notice something is missing- your panties. you quietly search for your underwear and it's nowhere to be seen. you scan the concrete floor and the velvet couches before directing your attention to the akso employee, only to catch him pushing sheer material into his pocket in silence just as you were about to query the fabric's whereabouts.

the two of you make eye contact once more. his face holds no emotion but he does turn around rather quickly, blush blooming at his ears once again as he looks at his computer before closing it and gathering the rest of his belongings.

note(s)💀. no one can come for me about the dorsal hump cause i found someone that happens to think the same thoughts as me! also i just finished day 2 of the valentine event??? zayne may have a sensitive neck ??? or am i just delusional??? + fav zayne edit if u care😼 also if i forgot something in the warnings plz dont hesitate to tell me! + i would love constructive crisitism just be nice abeg.

#i need some rum after this #and a nap #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #love and deepspace smut #l&ds #love & deepspace #lads #love & deepsace x reader #love and deepspace zayne #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader #l&ds zayne #lads zayne #zayne x mc #zayne smut

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angelshadowsinger · 2 months

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Scarlet-Tipped Secrets; Peonies, for You

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Azriel x f!reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.5k

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲: angst

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 (𝐓𝐖):

hanahaki!au, TW gore/vomiting (mildly descriptive— it’s bloody petals), unrequited love, themes of depression and lack of self worth, pining (so much pining), & dramaaaaa

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

When you develop feelings for your best friend, you delude yourself into believing you can ignore them for the rest of your life, if it means you can stay by his side. But once he starts seeing someone else, you discover that if you continue keeping your secret… your time on earth may be cut short. You find yourself with an impossible choice— remove all attachments to the shadowsinger and live, or hold out hope and suffer the consequences.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:

This one goes out to all my angst girlies. My ladies who like the feeling of tears crawling onto your pillow, of hurt balling up in your stomach as you wander through a fic. I see you and I feel you, and I cooked this one up special just for you.

𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:

Mates do not exist in the universe that this fic is set in, meaning Elain is not “off limits” to Az, and Cass is single. Additionally, since mates aren’t a thing, marriage/weddings are!

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

The first time it had happened, you had been more confused than anything.

Azriel had just given Elain a gift for Starfall; a pair of earrings that would glow a warm pink when kissed by the sun’s rays. Her cheeks turned the same color as she admired them, as did the tips of the shadowsinger’s ears.

Just one smooth petal rested in your palm as you brought your hand back from covering a cough, pink and delicate and beautiful. You thought that maybe it had landed in your palm before you coughed— even if there were no peonies in the vicinity and you hadn’t even seen one in months. Because there was no way that it had come… out of you.

The second time it happened, confusion became fear and it swiftly took root deep in your stomach. This time, it was a couple of petals, dewey in your hand as you turned away from your friends, shock running through you.

Azriel and Elain were sitting shoulder to shoulder on the love seat in the living room of the House of Wind, spirits being passed around by everyone and laughter filling the air. They had just shared a look you could infer was meant to be a secret between only them, but you had unfortunately witnessed the action. You could hardly breathe as you quickly hid the evidence of your newfound predicament, dumping the petals into a potted plant beside the mantle. You hoped that you were slick; taking a slow sip from your glass in an attempt to rid your throat of that tight, scratchy feeling even though your body was screaming for you to gulp it down.

In that moment, you realized that something was wrong with you. It would only take a few more petal-filled fits and two trips to the grand library of Velaris to discover that you were— to put it simply— completely, wholly, and undeniably doomed. It was there, during the early hours of morn and the empty, candle-lit corridors that you learned three things;

You were in love with your best friend, Azriel.

He was in love with someone else.

And you were going to die.

—

Things between you and the shadowsinger hadn’t always been so difficult.

Your relationship was, for many years, easy and left you feeling light; every conversation and interaction cherished. Initially, the pair of you had become fast friends; the other members of the Inner Circle even remarking on how he was usually a little slower to build relations. Perhaps something of your sense of self, intelligence, and silver-thorned wit had something to do with his initial intrigue. That was the guess Feyre ventured, anyway.

Once your friendship with the elusive male had blossomed, it was easy to maintain. Though you didn’t see him every day, when he did pay you a visit, the two of you made the most of it. The Inner Circle liked to poke at the pair of you, even going so far as to joke about your relationship that was not a relationship. And you and Azriel took it like champs; never wavering, always keeping it light in good fun.

But at night when you would crawl into your sheets and close your eyes, sometimes thoughts of him would find you. It was wrong to be thinking of your best friend like this when he so obviously would never feel that way for you, and yet… you pondered how his fingers would feel tracing across your naked back. You wondered what it would be like to melt into his arms at the end of the day, how his heartbeat would sound if it was just inches away from your ear, if you could lay your head on his chest.

You tried, you really did try to stop the thoughts from coming. But they quickly became more vivid, and more frequent than before. You couldn’t rid him from your mind— couldn’t focus when he came near, couldn’t hold up your end of the witty volley you usually shared because you’d get flustered if you stared at him for too long. Slowly, you had come to realize that the jokes your friends loved to make weren’t just conjecture— they knew all along that something was there.

It made you wonder if Azriel knew, too.

He was undeniably one of the smartest males you had come to know— your appraisal of him was sparkling, stellar. But when it came to things regarding emotion— specifically, his own emotions… he tended not to be quite as adept. So you had now landed in this confusion-fogged purgatory. Either your best friend knew you harbored feelings for him and he did not return them whatsoever— acting ignorant of your emotions. Or he didn’t know you were in love with him, didn’t even see a romantic relationship with you as a possibility, and maybe… if he were enlightened, he would realize that he… loved you too.

It was that very hope that had you holding out for so long. You so desperately wanted to believe that he just wasn’t aware of your feelings— of his— that you smushed your dignity down and continued to uphold your friendship, never revealing that you felt romantically attracted to him.

But the waiting game, of course, came back to bite you in the ass. Because the moment you realized he had started to see someone else… you knew that you had deluded yourself for months. All those nights that you laid awake, fantasizing about him and how he would proclaim his love to you… they were just fantasies. Nothing of the sort would ever happen.

Because now, he had Elain.

Her— the Archeron sister known for her gentle spirit and her striking face. She was quiet, and sweet, and goddamn breathtaking. Of course it had to be her; it couldn’t have been some bitch that would actually be deserving of your hatred. Because he was perfect, why would his choice of life partner be anything but? You couldn’t think of a bad word to say about the woman.

Elain had always treated you with polite kindness, a sense of regality emanating from her and her ethereal beauty. Though she wasn’t by any means your favorite female, there was nothing she had ever done to justify even a grain of dislike. You couldn’t say your few conversations had been riveting, nor her presence been warm and inviting… but they hadn’t been the opposite either. Your opinion on her was removed, but pleasant. Hell, if you could stand a blow to the ego, you might even admit you were jealous of the looks almost every male gave her when she entered the room.

The jealousy certainly ramped up once you realized that your beloved shadowsinger was one of those males… and actually, he was the only one she seemed to return interest toward, which of course… was salt in the wound.

As the weeks dragged on, their supposedly-secret affair began picking up speed. The sight of Azriel’s warm hazel gaze pinned to her made your stomach churn with unease, the petals itching up your throat more and more often. It became easier to just avoid the both of them in general, and with the absence of their presences, it was easier for you to pretend that everything was fine, and that you could handle your worsening condition on your own.

But of course, that was not the case.

Because after a few months, the Inner Circle gathered in private quarters above the Night Court Annual Starfall Ball. Thousands celebrated and swirled below you in the ballroom and yet you could only focus on one. It was then that the man who haunted your thoughts stood before the rest of you, pretty Elain tucked under his arm all giddy and shy, and announced they were engaged to be wed.

—

Warm liquid trickled out from the corner of your mouth, your ears ringing as your vision blurred in two, wide waves cleaving and then melting together again.

The crisp air felt welcome on your flushed cheeks, cool on your inflamed, ragged lungs. Stars danced above you as they pelted across the sky, and in your haggard state, they seemed to smear into a disorienting and beautiful masterpiece.

Someone was kneeling in front of you, large wings casting shadows around broad shoulders as they yelled something you couldn’t quite understand. The warm smell of them was comforting and you relaxed slightly, recognizing it was Cassian and slumping as his calloused hands came to hold your biceps.

The spliced image of him made it too hard to read the words on his lips. You tried to sit up but your body was drained, making it impossible to move. The Illyrian gathered your limp form into his arms and your head lolled to face the ground, finally piecing together what had happened.

A pile of pink, lush petals glistened up at you against the dark stone of the balcony floor, the light from the full moon sparkling off droplets of deep scarlet. It had happened again… and this time, it was even worse than before. You had had another episode— the evidence of it glaring even in your semi-conscious state.

“You’re in love with him…,” Cassian said slowly, barely even audible.

But you heard it— your body trembling with some sick concoction of shame and relief. For so long you had not uttered a whisper of your feelings, never daring to take ownership of them, let alone share them. There were no words that you could muster, nothing sharp or bright for you to make a response. You were just tired. Indescribably tired. Gods, you were so tired, your limbs felt as if they had turned to stone, and you could slumber for a thousand years.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” the male growled, squeezing your limp form closer to his firm chest. “I swear, he… Gods, this is fucked.”

You closed your eyes and allowed his body heat to seep into you, finding a small bit of comfort there. Cassian didn’t choose to say anything else as the waves of sickness gradually dissipated, leaving you weak and numb.

“Cass,” you rasped, barely able to get enough air to speak. “I’m scared.” Your head felt as if it was filled with a thick smog— struggling to get enough oxygen as you slowly recovered.

The General’s brow furrowed in pain at your pitiful confession, gathering you closer to his chest and tucking your head in tight beneath his chin. “I know, sweetheart. But you’re not alone. You don’t have to do this by yourself, not anymore. I’m here.” Cassian held you so delicately you wanted to cry, guilt pulsing through you as you realized he must have been terrified to have found you in such a sorry state. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, woe taking root deep in your chest. Now that you had seen Azriel with her— like that, so clearly in love with her, parading their affections out in the open, for anyone and everyone to see as he twirled her around the ballroom earlier… It was too much. Every part of you throbbed in agony, and you were consumed in fresh throes of self-pity. It was completely humiliating to be this debilitated. All because you were in love with your best friend, and he was in love with someone else.

Cassian scrunched his brow, the planes of his chiseled face settling into solid lines as you regained your bearings. “There’s no need to apologize, Y/n. You didn’t ask for this— how you feel is not your fault. Your body is already punishing you for simply having feelings— don’t let your mind join in on the beating too.”

You nodded, tucking your hands into your chest as he sighed and stood, taking you with him. He lifted you into his embrace with the utmost ease, as though you weighed nothing more than a sheet of paper. Your evening dress fluttered with the movement. If anyone caught sight of you two from far away, perhaps it could be construed as romantic, the way he now held you in his strong arms, strolling away from the party.

“You don’t seem as… freaked out as I thought you would,” you whispered as he walked with lethal quiet. Shadows stood tall above you as you approached the hedged boundary of the estate gardens, cutting into the overwhelming display the falling stars continued to put on.

Cassian was quiet.

You took a minute to study his somber expression, trying to read what he was feeling in this moment of recollection. Clearly, he had some experience with this disease before. Otherwise, he would’ve ran you right inside the ball, or to the nearest healer. But he didn’t— instead, he’d wandered into the dark hedges of the grounds, concealing you from prying eyes and ears. As if he understood what you would want most in this moment of shattering vulnerability.

“I’m not sure why you expect so little of me, little one,” he eventually replied, coming to the center of the area. He perched you beside him on a wrought-iron bench, facing a small fountain whose gentle gurgle drowned out the last hints of the celebration you’d left behind.

You frowned. Your lungs felt looser— distracted by whatever it was that provided Cassian with experience regarding your dreadful illness. It was nearly enough to forget the bomb that had been dropped on you upstairs just twenty minutes ago. “It’s not that, it’s just—“ you began. Cass shot you a playful look and you sighed, a smile daring at your lips as you rolled your eyes. “Okay I just meant that before this, I’d never heard of this kind of thing…” Your voice trailed off, hand reaching to rest on his before you murmured, “I’m sorry you have.”

The Illyrian raised a brow and let out a short, hollow laugh. “Oh no— It wasn’t me, I don’t… Well, never that bad anyway. I’ve just seen… how bad it can get. An old friend of mine once had the unfortunate experience of falling ill to this plague centuries ago.”

You nodded and put your hands in your lap, digging a thumb into your palm. “What… happened to them?”

Cassian closed his lips and sighed, hands bracing his knees. Silence drew out for a long beat before he finally spoke. “He told the one he loved about his ailment. And they told him..,” he trailed off, gaze darting sideways to land on you. You gestured for him to continue, and he did so after a brief pause. “They told him they would never have romantic feelings for him. They asked him to have the procedure. They wanted him to live, and if they couldn’t love him… then that was the only way.”

You shuddered. The very notion of the procedure made your bones ache and your shoulders sag.

“So he did,” Cassian went on, undeterred. “And he survived.”

Quiet invaded the still air, otherwise only interrupted by the low chirps of crickets in the grass and the muffled party. Cassian decided not to speak any further on the subject, instead content to let a calm silence settle between the pair of you. But somehow, you found yourself talking— despite never having voiced aloud any of these feelings, any of these thoughts.

“Cass, do you think… I should have the procedure, too?”

It was a question that was fully weighted— heavy, you already knew, but by the way the Illyrian’s shoulders sagged, the gravity of it all seemed more drastic than before.

Cassian took his time to form a reply, but when he finally did, it was in a soft and hushed voice. “I am not the one that should be making such calls, Y/n. But I will tell you that my friend… he was never quite the same.”

You shared a look of understanding with him— he was your friend, and the male you were in love with was his brother. Freshly engaged brother, at that. The consequences of the procedure would certainly crack a deep fracture in the dynamic of your group. If anything, you would probably fade away from everyone, seeing as every one of your memories that the Shadowsinger dwelled in would be tainted— his absence removed entirely. He would not exist to you anymore, and even if that wouldn’t necessarily affect you, oblivious to his existence, everyone around you would not share that same luxury.

And Azriel would be there, too. He would have to see you and know that you had loved him so intensely, that those feelings were so wholly one-sided, that you had to physically remove him from your mind. All so that your heart could forget him and start anew. Would that bother him? Knowing that you had suffered because you had fallen in love with him, while he would never possibly feel that way for you? Surely that would make him uncomfortable, to be in your presence after that. So ultimately, it would be best to just move away, and start somewhere else— clean slate. Would he even miss you?

“Sometimes I think about it— the procedure. This disease, it’s a wretched way to live, Cass. It hurts,” you said, voice cracking as emotion welled up in your eyes and throat. “It hurts so fucking bad, I can’t even be around him anymore. Especially not now. Now that he’s…” You trained off, unable to say the words.

Cassian slid to your side, tucking you underneath a strong arm. The shadow of his wing furled around you from behind, encasing you in a warm, safe space. Tears began to race down your cheeks, gathering at your chin and splattering onto the silken fabric on your lap. You couldn’t stop them— still too drained from the fit from before. All you could do was cry as your friend gathered you closer to him, patting the top of your head with careful strokes, trying his best to comfort you.

Only once your crying seemed to subside did Cassian offer another solution. “Maybe… you could talk to him.”

You laughed— a hollow, broken sound. Cassian lips curved up at the sound nonetheless. “I’m simply nowhere near as brave as you, Cass.” Shaking your head, your gaze focused on the bubbling fountain before you. “Even if I could manage to face him, and confess to him… If he rejected me… I think I’d die on the spot.”

“Don’t say that,” he said, voice low.

You bit your lip. “And why not, Cass? There’s a good chance that I could drop dead any time I have one of these fits. That’s just reality.”

“Well fuck that reality,” Cassian spat, wings ruffling. “I don’t want to live in a world without you, and I sure as hell know Azriel wouldn’t either.”

“Well maybe I don’t wanna live without him!” you yelled. After holding back your emotions for so long, they just kept flooding out after the hole Cassian had punched into the dam that had kept them at bay. “Maybe I’d rather die than lose even one memory with him, maybe I’ll just hold out for as long as I can because I’m too fucking scared to lose him!”

Cassian’s face twisted into agony. “And what of those who love you?” he challenged, voice shaking slightly with emotion. “What about us, what happens when you die, and when the last memories we will have of you were you withering away before our very eyes?! You love him? Do you know what world of pain he will be in when he finds out what happened to you? And then to discover your absolute complacency in the matter?”

A sob escaped you as you felt every word of truth pierce the feeble veil you had called a shield in your attempt at denial. Your friend was right— you couldn’t allow this disease to win, not if that meant hurting everyone you loved in the process. And now that you thought about it— even if you chose to remember him, and let the sickness take its course… what good would those memories do you, when you’d be dead?

Cassian seemed to realize you had accepted defeat, because he tightened his hold on you and stroked your hair as you cried into his chest. The sadness you felt unfortunately was not alleviated by your tears, but at least… you had come to see that there was only one option forward.

You had to go through with the procedure.

You had to forget Azriel.

𝘩𝘪 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴!! 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 <3 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘪𝘤, 𝘚𝘛𝘚𝘗𝘍𝘠~ 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦! 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘻𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯~

𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘮𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 2 & 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯!!

⤷ masterlist

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar x you #angelshadowsinger #azriel angst #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar angst #my work #azriel x you #STSPFY series

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thexianzhoujade · 29 days

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YOU'RE NOT HER | genshin impact fanfiction. zhongli x gn!reader — heavy angst, hanahaki disease, hurt/no comfort, mentions of blood & gagging (almost vomit), death, ‘unrequited’ love

idle chatter. this is a reupload from my old blog so if you want to argue that i'm stealing, i'm literally robbing myself <3 library waiting list. @lovingluxury @dumbificat @starryshinyskies @ryuryuryuyurboat @ainescribe @bfjax @soleillunne @sangoqueenkoko

aventurine's addition. "alexi, darling, don't forget to link 'you should have been her' for the readers. it is the infamous second part, after all."

oh that man, that gorgeous, benevolent man you’d fell in love with all those moons ago; with dark hair that fades into a glowing orange, resemblant of the sunset and his own geo vision. you had fell in love, yes - you thought he had too. the thought crosses your mind whenever he’s not by your side, not within your grasp like he usually is. typically, the man was serving his job at the wangsheng funeral parlour as a consultant.

you grimace when the tight feeling in your ribcage suffocates you. it’s getting stronger as time goes on, knocking the breath right out of your lungs and leaving you hacking up blood into a white handkerchief. zhongli had expressed no ends of concern about the situation when he’d find the bloodied handkerchiefs scattered around your shared home, ushering you to doctor baizhu as soon as possible.

you had begged baizhu not to utter a word of your condition to zhongli. he returned your pleads with a sorrowful look.

how could your love be so unrequited? had you been the only one true to your word this whole time? the mere thought stings at your eyes, tears threatening to spill as you shakily wash the dishes. zhongli isn’t home, not for a few more hours. he said he had business to attend to - that meant it wasn’t work related. was he cheating? you shake the sour thought away from your head, scowling.

you wonder if the oh-so-wise man could ever read the wrinkles appearing on your skin, aging you with every passing concern that you don’t voice aloud, with every day that goes by where you’re suffocating from the inside out. he never mentions it, perhaps he simply does not care. you feel the knot in your throat, sickening as you gag and splutter into the soapy water of the sink. you keep gagging, the knot doesn’t budge and you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of nausea.

your body grows tired. you slip down to your knees, banging elbows and other limp limbs against kitchen cabinets as you go down. finally, with one last cough, the knot exits your mouth. it falls to the wood floorboards beneath you, slimy and covered in blood but undoubtedly recognised as a glaze lily. its petals are shut, you understand that there is no music, no lullaby to be heard to lull the glaze lily to bloom. it’s an ancient flower, one you always used to admire before this curse laid upon you.

the front door to your house opens, keys jingling in a specific man’s gloved hands as he enters. you hurry to throw the glaze lily out of the kitchen window, submerging your hands in the sink once more as the metallic taste of blood and lingering aftermath of a floral tang swarms your mouth. you hold your breath, hoping you didn’t have the appearance of someone who had just coughed up a flower so violently.

a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, suddenly you’re hit with the faint smell of aged wine and familiar scent of freshly dug earth. you smile at the thought, leaning back into his chest despite the pain tearing at your lungs and the burning sensation left behind in your throat.

“you’ve been coughing again—” zhongli’s voice reverberates close to your ear, hot breath fanning over your skin and your eyes raise from the dirty water to your reflection in the kitchen window, where zhongli’s warm amber eyes are staring at you so deeply.

“it’s okay, my love, i promise,” you lie through your teeth, hoping the man sincerely couldn’t read through you the way he used to, “this time it was a smaller amount than the last…”

you try to sound cheerful in your approach to the topic, careful to maintain that personality he’d apparently fell in love with one day in liyue harbour. zhongli makes a noise - is he doubting you? you watch as a gloved hand raises, nearing your face before his thumb wipes gently at a trickle of blood leading from the corner of your lips.

“i’ll speak to doctor baizhu in the morning,” zhongli states firmly, you almost bite back the words that taste bitter about him ‘caring’ for you, “perhaps you need a higher dose of your medication.”

the medication in question surely had been a ruse to fool the man, though you did not expect it to have worked. changsheng had uttered that you could not leave the bubu pharmacy without some form of medication, it’d look absurd in the eyes of the wangsheng funeral parlour consultant. in agreement, baizhu had qiqi mix violetgrass powder with sugar - the instructions were simple, mix it into the hot tea you’d drink with zhongli every evening.

it was sweet, not at all bitter and the scent of violetgrass made it bearable. apparently the inclusion of herbal properties was enough to fool your dearest partner or so you thought.

—

it’s hard to understand the fine line between a lie and a truth when the past few months, you’d been dating a man for someone whomst he was not. it was a struggle to understand the situation but it kept you up for endless nights, counting stars and tending to the numerous flora you’d planted in the garden underneath the moonlight - courtesy of your friend the traveler for appearing with so many countless seeds of blooms from across teyvat.

yet as you sit on the grass, staring at the pile of dead - and dying - glaze lilies you had acquired, the stars twinkling endlessly above you, you understood why he’d done it. he was judicious, hoping to protect you from his past yet keep you as his future. the thought made that pain in your chest tighten. you let out a futile whimper into the quiet night.

as you ponder zhongli’s status as liyue’s archon - the geo archon of all people, you begin to question your previous doubts. your breaths become struggled, your chest heaving as you lay on your back for some relief. trembling fingertips brush amongst blades of grass, hoping for a distraction as tears spill down your cheeks.

liyue is a beautiful country with vast mountains and yellowed plains that seem to stretch endlessly. its civilisation had become fruitful at the expense of liyue harbor, bustling with trade and the thing your partner had appeared to love the most; contracts. he has every right to be proud of the nation liyue had built to this day, despite claiming that he’d ultimately retired - “the people can do without me, they’ve proved that much.”

blood trickles from your mouth but it’s not gentle, it’s a rush, like a waterfall as it spills down the sides of your face and pools on the grass below you. it’s littered in an array of blue and white petals, matching that of glaze lilies - a flower you’d grown to hate. you struggle to get oxygen into your lungs with the rising level of blood that doesn’t dissipate from your parted lips, suffocating you as you try to no ends to breathe through your nose.

that is, if there was room in your lungs for such oxygen. twists and turns of branches and roots that climb to the walls of your organs, painting them with glaze lilies and filling them with fallen petals every time a flower wilts from the unreasonable conditions inside your body.

you’re proud of liyue; the magnificent, beautiful nation of geo that you got to experience in all of its glory. zhongli often times referred to liyue with feminine pronouns and as the light dies from your eyes and your chest ceases to rise, you can only think one thing with your last dying breath.

you’re not her.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

#alexi writes 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 #zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli #zhongli angst #genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin x reader

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https-furina · 7 months

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✎ you’re not her. ft. zhongli x fem!reader content. heavy angst, hanahaki disease, hurt/no comfort, mentions of blood & gagging (almost vomit), death, ‘unrequited’ love. w.c. tba.

you should have been her — part two.

you had begged baizhu not to utter a word of your condition to zhongli. he returned your pleads with a sorrowful look.

“it’s okay, my love, i promise,” you lie through your teeth, hoping the man sincerely couldn’t read through you the way he used to, “this time it was a smaller amount than the last…”

it was sweet, not at all bitter and the scent of violetgrass made it bearable. apparently the inclusion of herbal properties was enough to fool your dearest partner or so you thought.

—

you’re not her.

#꒰꒰・♡ cold cases #https-furina #zhongli #genshin zhongli #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli angst #genshin #genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin impact angst

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thatoneneuvichiliauthor · 15 days

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I originally planned to make this into a fic, but I just can't find the right way to write it, so I guess I'll just put the idea out there:

Aventio/Ratiorine Hanahaki AU where Ratio starts coughing up flowers as soon as he exists Penacony's dreamscape and returns to reality.

He has no doubt as to who they're for, so when he grabs a handful of petals and realizes that they share the same colors as Aventurine's eyes, it only confirms what he already knew.

The thing is, Aventurine is still trying to find his way out of the Nihility at this point, so there is little Ratio can do except wait for his return. During that time, his symptoms keep getting significantly worse and worse, to the point where no medicine can help mitigate them anymore.

Still, he brushes aside any suggestion to go through the surgery that would save his life, since that means he would forget Aventurine in the process. No matter what others say to him, he remains convinced that Aventurine survived and that he will eventually return, that the pain and waiting are all worth it.

In the end, Aventurine does come back to him, but by the time he does, Ratio is unconscious and on the brink of death. Upon finding him like this, Aventurine goes through a mental breakdown as he starts to believe that his 'curse' has struck again.

He shakes and sobs while desperately holding Ratio in his arms. He begs him not to do this to him, because he can't lose someone he loves. Not again. This time, he won't be strong enough to survive it.

Aventurine doesn't notice it through his tears, but as soon as he pronounces the word 'love', Ratio begins to breathe more easily and his face starts regaining colors. And the next thing Aventurine knows, he is being engulfed in the tightest of hugs.

It doesn't last long, as Ratio soon has to pull away so he can cough up months worth of blue and purple flowers. Aventurine stays with him through the whole process. He gently rubs Ratio's back as the doctor is coughing up the last of the roots and offers him a warm drink to soothe his throat afterward, all while tears of relief run down his cheeks.

Tears that Ratio tenderly wipes away as he apologizes for worrying him this much. He whispers that he never meant to put him through such distress, but that he couldn't just wipe away his memories of him either, not when Aventurine means so much to him. He tells him that even as the disease got worse and worse, he didn't feel scared, because he never lost hope, never doubted that they would meet again.

That Aventurine would choose to live and to return to him.

After long, teary confessions, they fall asleep in each other's arms, exhausted but beyond elated to have found each other again

#aventurine #dr ratio #hsr aventurine #hsr dr ratio #aventio #ratiorine #honkai star rail #hanahaki #rambling

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g1ngerbeer · 3 months

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a bit more of the platonic hanahaki au that is eating my thoughts

transcript:

hanahaki starts during the children in need special and christmas invasion. handwave something something regeneration went wrong. mostly goes away during series 2, comes back after doomsday and gets worse and worse until he dies. eleven coughs up a lungful of forget-me-nots, then tries yogurt and doesn't like it. and that's that.

i like the idea that the sun in 42 burns away the flowers for a bit. contributes to the doctor's decision in human nature (can't cough up thorns when you're a watch!)

#id in alt text #my art #dw #doctor who #tenth doctor #dr who hanahaki #cw blood #tenth doctor + platonic hanahaki is so ghrhrhhgrrrrggrrghr .#local alien in love with universe (NOT mutual) (Terminal.)#bwah bwaaaah. please dont ask me to explain. theres nothing concrete in this au its just Vibes and misery. you see the vision

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sha-n-dowbannedlol · 1 year

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Alhaitham — Let You Break My Heart

cw: hanahaki disease, major character de4th, angst

It first happened during a sunny afternoon, the same day Alhaitham first smiled at you. A soft smile, barely even noticeable, but it was certainly there. His eyes tinged with amusement as they bore through yours, and the world was brighter for a moment, though, it was gone just as quickly as it came.

However, the same can't be said for the lingering feelings it has left in your chest.

It started out as simple warm feelings blooming in your chest every time you see him, choking on air whenever his eyes meet yours, the feeling of your windpipe closing up whenever he shows any emotions towards you. It was lovely, those feelings, and you never wished for them to go away.

Until the coughing started.

Blue petals tinted with red now lay on your palms and you could only look on in horror.

Alhaitham can't know. He can never know.

But Alhaitham is intelligent and observant, and you're a dear friend to him. He was bound to notice the increasingly frequent trips to the bathroom, the poorly hidden efforts to cough, and all the petals peeking out of your pockets. It was only a matter of time before he questioned you—before he found out.

When the inevitable finally came, you were already prepared to accept your fate. But Alhaitham had other plans. While you closed your eyes and braced yourself for rejection, Alhaitham simply looked on as unbothered as he could be.

"I love you too,"

And his confession felt like a vine that wrapped itself around your heart, its little thorns digging themselves into the flesh to solidify their position there.

The next few months were the happiest moments of your life; Every day with Alhaitham was too good to be true. He cared for you, he made sure to look after you the best as he could, and made you feel loved as much as he could, despite him having the emotional range of a brick wall.

He kissed you, held your hand, brushed his fingers through your hair every morning, and held you in his chest every night. Not a day goes by that you don't hear him professing his love for you.

But your illness never got any better.

Every day he left for work, you would hunch over the bathroom, whole flowers surrounding the place.

Daffodils. Please respond to my feelings.

Blue Roses. Unrequited love.

Snapdragons. Deception.

And every day, you rush to clean everything up, careful not to leave a single petal behind that will clue Alhaitham into the ever-growing illness that's supposed to have left you ages ago.

It was unheard of, this case of yours, as Hanahaki Disease is supposed to go away the moment its bearer finds out that their feelings are returned, and yet here you are with vines poking out of your throat and flowers in your palms, struggling to breathe.

Perhaps, it was because despite your boyfriend's constant reassurance that he loves you, despite his actions to convince you... deep down, you knew it was all a lie.

Deep down, you knew Alhaitham isn't capable of loving you.

It was only a matter of time before your illness gets the better of you, so you never said anything to him. You allowed yourself to enjoy his act. You relished in his touches, ignoring the flowers pushing past your throat every time he tells you he loves you.

You allowed yourself to live in a lie.

And when the day finally came, you lay in the bed of the man you loved, not able to move anymore and he walked in on you like that. Tucked in his bed, flowers everywhere, it would have seemed romantic in a different circumstance.

Not a single emotion can be seen on his face as he approaches you, one hand reaching out to hold onto yours. In a last effort to communicate with him despite the restraints against your throat, you finally asked for the last time.

"Did you ever love me?"

The moment his irises look away from yours, you allow your tears to escape, his gesture was enough to answer your question and you didn't have the energy to inquire any further. You wanted to thank him for everything, for at least trying for the past few months, but the rejection was enough for your illness to reach full bloom.

One last time, Alhaitham leans in to place a final kiss on your temples, hoping to, at the very least, ease your pain.

In the bed of the man you loved, with your hand still in his, and his lips pressed against your skin, you took your last breath.

And for Alhaitham, that was the beginning of his end.

Hunching over, he, himself started coughing, and the flowers that came from you were mixed with ones that came from him.

Crimson Rose. Grief. Regret.

Purple hyacinths. I'm sorry.

Orchids. I will always love you.

#alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #genshin alhaitham #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you

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wooyoong · 11 months

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🌼 freya's recent svt reads (& recs)

disclaimer : these are my RECENT reads, and i haven't added some of my old reads! also i have tried to add atleast one for each member to the list hehe (except jihoon he has two)

note : fic titles labelled with a * mark are series. minors please stay away, strictly. almost all fics here are 18+ !!

— also, i am @angelwoozi 😭 incase you wanted to check out my writing blog then.

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

* yours, but not yours by @gyukult (fake dating au, 18+)

when a nice guy gets too overbearing, you’re stuck with the option of having a fake boyfriend.

YOON JEONGHAN

Jeonghan's Guide to Insurance Fraud (And Falling In Love) by @starsstuddedsky (f2l, fake dating au)

your best friend offers a way for you to get your wisdom teeth removed without going into debt. the only catch? you can’t fall in love

HONG JISOO

Plush by @bitchlessdino (est relationship, 18+)

soft joshua cockwarming drabble, with love and yearning.

WEN JUNHUI

Love, Actually by @haet-sal (single dad, boss jun, kind of infidelity au, 18+)

You’re the wide-eyed, clueless-but-on-top secretary to Wen Junhui, and it all starts, with one new year’s kiss… well, new year’s fuck.

Mr. Wen likes you. It should have been obvious, whenever he seemed to forgive your inadequate work ethics and frequent unfailing mishaps, and how much he trusted you, no matter how many mistakes you made, how much he hated hearing about your life with your boyfriend… and what kind of boss goes shopping for their employee, privately, anyway?

KWON SOONYOUNG

i don't understand but i love you by @hvcmixtape (est relationship)

soonyoung has only been the kindest and most gentle husband. sometimes you feel like you're floating on the stars, and sometimes you feel like you've just jumped into the most romantic book.

JEON WONWOO

rich girl by @blushnote (rich girl x street punk wonwoo, 18+)

wonwoo likes to call you a rich girl, and you hate it because it’s true. in fact, you hate a lot of things: your friends, your parent’s attitude, the way your life is supposed to be perfect even though you’re miserable. not much makes you happy, except for a punk boy who you can’t even be with.

LEE JIHOON

You Make Me Breathe by @hwanghyunjinenthusiast (hanahaki au)

Jihoon is utterly in love with you. Too bad you're into his friend Soonyoung, and he's too much of a coward to ever tell you how he feels. He's happy to take his feelings to the grave but soon finds that his body doesn't agree with his decision.

* As a Matter of Fact by @starsstuddedsky (co-workers to lovers, fake dating au)

when you're caught in a simple lie, the best solution? dig in your heels and stick to your guns until everything inevitably goes wrong and everyone gets hurt

LEE SEOKMIN

(Not) A Gentleman by @wonusite (est relationship, 18+)

Your boyfriend is the sweetest man alive—a perfect gentleman. However, you’re determined to show him that he doesn’t always have to be a gentleman.

KIM MINGYU

Good Dad, Better Daddy by @bitchlessdino (dilf au, bestfriend's dad mingyu, 18+)

you were hesitant when your friend said you should just stay at her house for the summer, especially knowing you can barely contain yourself with her hot dad around as well as the thought of not getting caught.

XU MINGHAO

at dawn by @sluttyminghao (domestic au, est relationship, 18+)

domestic sex with boyfriend minghao!

BOO SEUNGKWAN

pussy sport by @duhnova (fwb au, 18+)

leave it up to boo seungkwan to almost suffocate between your thighs, eat you out till you’re crying, and to figure out a new kink of his.

CHWE HANSOL

You Get Me So High by @cheolhub (f2l, 18+)

smoking with your best friend (who you totally don’t have a crush on) is super fun till all you can think about is him… well, doing him, to be more specific.

LEE CHAN

promise ring by @lovelyhan (royalty au, f2l, 18+)

no one would've guessed that the daughter of the town’s royal mage has a soft spot for the clumsiest fire elemental in the entire realm. but when the crown prince suddenly asks for your hand in marriage, you're forced to consider how you feel about a certain lee jung chan a lot more seriously.

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mochinomnoms · 7 months

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Hi, there :D

I saw the hanahaki event and I found your ideas about the disease interesting so I want to place my resquest:

Type: Romantic, hurt and fluff

Reader: Female but neutral it's okay 👍

Promt: "Here, your favorite flower! Hmm? Where'd I get them? Uh, I just found them, around..."

With Silver

silver x f!reader [tags] – fluff, hurt/comfort [wc} – 2,423 prompt 13: “Here, your favorite flower! Hmm? Where'd I get them? Uh, I just found them, around…” note - hi! went over wc, it's fine. i hope i got the hurt part down? a floral inconvenience

Gardenias - They are often given as a gesture of love and affection, making them popular in wedding bouquets and romantic arrangements.

Peonies - peonies are often associated with love, romance, and prosperity. It symbolizes deep affection, good fortune, and a flourishing relationship.

You attempted to floss out something that had gotten stuck on your teeth during your last coughing fit at lunch. You hadn’t realized that whatever it was was falling out of your mouth while you and Ace argued about who would be speaking during your history presentation until Deuce pointed them out.

“Uh, Prefect? You got—” He tapped the corner of his mouth. “—you got a little something there.”

You’d swiped at your mouth, confused from where the petal came from, until you started hacking up flowers. Now you were sitting in the infirmary room with a concerned, but slightly amused Lilia, who decided to escort you to the nurse after seeing your three gaggle of friends panic.

Grim in particular seemed convinced that you’d been cursed and were turning into a tree as punishment for his hubris.

“There, there my dear.” Lilia rubbed a soothing hand along your back as you coughed up another flower. Gardenia flowers, evidently. “It’ll pass, happens to many people during the spring season.”

You gagged as you finally cleared your throat of phlegm and petals. Looking down on your lap, you had what was basically a full bouquet of white, full bloom gardenias. A bit moist from your saliva, but fairly pretty flowers.

“Egh, what like seasonal allergies?” you asked, murmuring a thanks as the fae handed you the warm cup of soothing potion the nurse left you.

“You could say that. Spring is the most ideal time of the year for youngins to be twitterpated!”

You raised a brow at Lilia, who was smirking at you cheekily. “So, you want to tell me who’s the lucky man that’s caught the attention of the school’s only young woman?”

“Huh? What do you mean? Twitterpated?”

Lilia’s smile dropped, a more pensive, thoughtful look on his face now as he hummed. “I suppose you wouldn’t know, seeing as it’s a magical sickness.”

Lilia turned to face you as he carefully grabbed one of the gardenias, twirling it in his hands as he explained.

“Hanahaki disease is an illness that typically occurs in the springtime among young individuals whose hearts are so full of love for the object of their affection that their love starts taking physical form as their loved one’s favorite flora, typically flowers. But always the most pristine, beautiful version of it.”

He chuckled at your reddening face as he continued, “It can be typically treated by confessing your love, or it will go away on its own after a while. There are a few cases where it can become chronic, but that’s rare.”

“Cool, cool, cool. So how long specifically until it goes away?”

Lilia dropped the flower in shock, turning to look at you with disbelief.

“What?” you blurted, hastily grabbing the flowers to toss them in the trashcan by the bed. “You said a while, so like a week? Two? I can even do three—”

“Why would you wait when you can get it over with, with just a few words?” Lilia looked disappointed, almost pouting as he crossed his arms.

“Take this as an opportunity to get this off your chest. That’s how the sickness feeds, even if they don’t accept and say no—”

“But I don’t want him to say no!” You whispered, interrupting Lilia mid-sentence as he saw how somber you looked. “I-I can’t. I don’t think I could handle hearing him reject me. I don’t want to ruin what we already have.”

You fiddled with your fingers as you continued, “Even then, if he says yes, what will happen when I go home? Will I just leave him here, alone? After I’ve taken a piece of his heart for myself?”

Sighing, you shut your eyes as you rubbed them, setting into an emotional exhaustion.

“I wouldn’t want to do that to him either.”

Lilia stayed silent as he watched you lay down in the bed, arm stretched over to shield your eyes from the mid-afternoon sun seeping through the window. He reached down to pick up the flower he’d dropped earlier, twirling it in his fingers once again.

Switching his gaze to observe you, Lilia’s eyes darted between you and the flower. Then, like a light switch flipped on in his head, he brightened as realization dawned on his features.

“Gardenias, hmm?” He purred, suddenly giddy.

“Hmm? Gardeni-whats?”

“Oh, nothing.” Lilia chirped, smiling as you peaked an eye out. “The flower you’re producing. He must like gardenias is all.”

You hummed in response, making a startled noise as Lilia grabbed your hand and wrapped your fingers around the stem.

“How about you head back to your dorm for the rest of the day? I’m sure Nurse Goethel would be happy to write you a note for your classes.”

Lilia waved at the nurse who smiled and nodded in affirmation.

“Go home, I’ll make sure to send you a few things later this week to lift your mood!” Lilia chirped, patting your head before floating out of the infirmary with a self-satisfied smile.

Goethel had emailed your excuse, sent you with another soothing potion for your throat before the next bell rang. By then you were already sitting on the dusty lounge couch, texting back an angry Ace, who ended up having to do the presentation by himself.

@traaaaaaaaapola: boo u whore i cant believe u got sic specifically to not do the presentation smh @deuce♠️: dont call her a whore @traaaaaaaaapola: i mean it affectionately, u whore @deuce♠️: dont call me a whore @traaaaaaaaapola: whore @traaaaaaaaapola: kladsjaljs65&^(_)H)*H(R*F*F%DHElp;lksglka;sga’jm @notaschooltherapist: u good? @traaaaaaaaapola: ace is not available to come to the phone rn, please try again later 😊 @notaschooltherapist: lol rip

You sighed and looked at the single gardenia in the cheap glass vase you got from Sam’s while picking up some soup for your throat. You hoped that Grim wouldn’t mind that you took some of his tuna money for it.

The light from the setting sun shone through the window, making the white petals a silvery glow, mocking you.

You felt the tickle of petals creeping up your throat as you coughed up three more gardenias. Gagging, you stood up and grabbed the offending flowers to rinse the spit off in the kitchen. As you were placing them to join the first in the vase, a knock at the door alerted you to a visitor.

“Ah, gimme a sec!” you called out (a bit hoarsely from the earlier fit), walking over to the entrance to greet your visitor with a smile. That was until your heart leapt into your chest as the door opened, Silver entering with a paper bag in hand.

“Y/N? Where—ah.” Silver gave a soft smile as he noticed you in the living room. “There you are. Lilia told me you were sick, he said that you might need some help?”

That sneaky little—

“Oh! Um—ahem—sorry my throat is sore, um.” You stuttered nervously, shifting in your spot as you remembered the flowers behind you.

Silver was still giving you that gentle smile that made your heart pitter-patter like a bird as he walked to the kitchen to unpack the bag, placing an amber colored potion on the counter, some water bottles, and more cans of soup.

While his back was turned, you swiftly snuck the vase under the coffee table, covering it up with the raggedy table cloth.

Once you were assured that the bouquet was sufficiently hidden, you walked over to meet Silver in the kitchen.

“Um, yeah. It’s nothing though, I didn’t realize he was gonna send you over.”

“Ah, well he didn’t really.” Silver blushed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “I woke up just to hear him mention that you weren’t feeling well, I just wanted to come check up on you.”

“Oh!” You felt your cheeks warm at that. “That’s so nice of you, thanks.”

That led you to this moment, wanting to curse whatever deity existed in Twisted Wonderland for putting you in this situation. For the last four weeks, Silver had been visiting you in the morning, noon, and evening with a fresh new honey-colored potion to accompany your meal.

After a certain point, Silver had started falling asleep outside of your dorm, classrooms, and even the bathroom during your coughing fit. Waiting to hand you another soothing elixr.

It was sweet. It really was. It just sucked that every single interaction with him ended with your heart pounding in your chest and gardenias popping out of your mouth like some sort of illusionist.

Silver, in his unending kindness, started checking in more often, not realizing that he was the one making it worse. It had gotten so bad that small blooms started popping out of your ears and your head.

Every single time you yanked the offending flowers out and threw them away in the nearest trash can or fireplace. But, it seemed that the Hanahaki sensed your animosity, because it became harder to hide.

Everytime you locked eyes with Silver across a busy hall, the ground beneath you would bloom white flowers. Everytime you heard his voice as you passed a classroom, petals fell from the tips of your fingers.

Even the mere mention of his name caused an entire gardenia bush to sprout next to you, which actually wasn’t the most disruptive thing to have happened during yours and Hornton’s nightly walks.

Similar to Lilia, he recommended that you take advantage of the flowers and confess.

“After all, why not make a blessing out of a curse? Much easier than unnecessarily prolonging your suffering, yes?”

Hornton’s words echoed through your head as you lay across your shabby couch, head smashed into the cushions as you groaned.

As you turned to lay on your side, you noticed lush, white flowers underneath the coffee table. Crawling to investigate, you’re met with the small gardenia bouquet you’d hidden nearly a month ago when Silver first came to care for you.

Reaching for the vase, you were surprised that they were in such great condition, considering you forgot about them and left them to suffer under the dusty dark table. In fact, the blooms seemed to have grown.

It looked like one of those fancy Valentine’s bouquets you’d see at flower shops.

Lilia and Hornton’s words echoed in your mind.

Their love starts taking physical form as their loved one’s favorite flora, typically flowers.

Why not make a blessing out of a curse?

Maybe you didn’t need to explicitly confess, but perhaps getting this off your chest would help some.

The next morning, you greeted Silver bright and early. His face of surprise was endearing as you whipped the door open, his hand raised and posed to knock.

Before he could utter a simple ‘good morning’, you shoved the bouquet of large, waxy cream flowers into his hands.

"Here, your favorite flower!”

Silver held the bouquet in his hands, slightly puzzled with a soft blush on his cheeks,

“O-oh, may I ask what for?”

“For helping me with my sickness all month.” You replied, clenching and unclenching your fist behind your back. “To show my appreciation and…uh—um…you know. That stuff.”

You were hoping and praying that indirectly admitting your feelings, rather than outright admitting you loved him, would do the trick.

Silver looked pleased, almost flustered as he met your eyes with his own auroral ones.

“That’s kind of you, Y/N.” He smiled bashfully, eyes crinkling ever so beautifully. “Can I ask, where’d you get them?”

You thinned your lips before popping them and answering, “Uh, I just found them, around…"

“Interesting.” He admired the flowers, rubbing a soft petal between his fingertips. “They’re not in season this time around, they’re a summer flower…you really lucked out with these ones.”

Your heart stopped as he lifted the gardenias to sniff their aroma, whispering under his breath, “I really lucked out with you, hm?”

Like a tidal wave smashing against a rocky shore, your entire body warmed as you realized that you really were completely, foolishly in love with the man in front of you. Your heart resumed beating, harder and faster this time like a patient in cardiac arrest. Your mind felt like it flew out of your head to sing in delight. Your throat tickled as it—wait.

Your throat tickled. Your throat was tickling.

Before you could turn to run somewhere private, like your bedroom or bathroom, you started coughing up a flurry of petals. The wood beneath your feet was slightly breaking as pinwheel shaped flowers emerged from the ground, crawling up the doorframe, as well as yours and Silver’s legs.

The white bulbs popped up between hair strands, creating the illusion of a flower crown, and finally another large, magnificent gardenia bouquet fell out of your mouth.

Breathing heavily from the lack of air, you shakily held your flowers as you looked up to see Silver’s shocked face.

“D-did you just? Are those gardenias—hanakhaki.” He sputtered in realization, looking back and forth between the gardenias and you. “They came from you?.”

“I’m sorry!” You blurted out, tears starting to form as you shut your eyes, afraid to make eye contact. “I was trying to make them go away, but they just wouldn’t, and got worse and worse until I-I-I—mpft!”

Silver’s lips covered yours, effectively shutting you up mid-rant. You yelped as his arms snaked around your waist, tightening until you were pressed up against him. Whimpering into his mouth as he deepened the kiss, you wrapped your own arms around his neck, warmth spreading into your body as he let out a pleased hum.

You two parted, though your arms still kept each other entwined in each other’s embrace. Silver’s arms tightened as he pressed your foreheads together, sighing.

“I wish you’d told me sooner, I felt awful knowing you were sick and there wasn’t anything I could do to fix it.”

Hiding your face in his neck, you murmured, “I’m sorry, I was just scared that you didn’t feel the same way. That I’d ruin our friendship”

“It’s funny, I thought the same thing. I wanted to wait it out, make sure I didn’t make you uncomfortable” Silver chuckled, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles on the small of your back. “But peonies are your favorite, right?

Reaching down to pull a delicate, pink peony that remained in perfect condition despite being in his pocket, he continued.

“I started coughing these up a few weeks ago, they go well with the gardenias, don’t they?”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst silver #silver x reader #twst silver x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #a floral inconvenience #mochi requests

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statisticallymorelikely · 1 year

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trigger warning: choking, vomiting, blood

thinking about hob with hanahaki disease

hob finds his first petal days after their 1789 meet-up. he figures it's divine punishment of some sort for his trade. perhaps this is why his stranger had steered him away from it. he works hard to atone and repair the damage he's done. and there are no more petals.

he has his second bout a few decades after as he's enjoying a friendly cup of tea with an industrialist with gorgeous blue eyes. the red petals are stark enough against his handkerchief that it could be mistaken for blood. he knows it's not consumption, but he fakes his death fairly quickly after that.

hob searches for an answer but refuses to believe the one he found.

after his disaster of a meeting with his stranger, he hacks up a full flower, a bright red poppy tinged dark with his blood. he clenches it in his fist as his body is racked with coughs all night. by morning, he has enough to make a bouquet.

the red reminds him of the ruby hanging snug against his stranger's delicate neck. he coughs up three more flowers and finally believes what he's read. his condition worsens and it's only in his sleep where he has some respite.

he spends a few decades trying to find a cure, but all roads point to two impossibilities. his stranger would never love him back and hob would rather die than give up the part of himself that hopes he will.

so he moves on, tries to live his life as best he can with a garden of poppies growing in his lungs. each breath is more painful than the last and even sleep has ceased being a comfort. but at least he gets to be there as humanity prospers.

he witnesses people fight for their rights, reach for the sky then the stars. he watches them build a better world, destroy that world and rebuild anew with hope upon hope upon hope. he's there sharing in the people's joy and sorrow and each night he thinks of his stranger and prunes the stems crawling up his throat.

by the time he walks up to the white horse in 1989, he had forgotten what breathing normally felt like, especially this last year when the anticipation clawed at him from the inside. when his stranger fails to show up, he goes home sloshed and spends the night on his knees, sobbing and vomiting blood and flowers and acid all over his flat, choking on his own despair incarnate.

he wakes up gagging on a poppy plant in his mouth. he rips it out from deep within him with a gasp and tries to get what little air he can into his abused lungs.

hob starts to think is it even worth living with all this misery.

but then he starts to clean up his mess, picks up the forlorn plant he just pulled out of himself and can’t bring himself to throw the pathetic thing away. this thing, his love, is part of him, and idiot that he is he can't bear to see it die. it's the only thing he has left of his stranger and so he puts it in his flower bed and it grows into a riot of red.

when he buys the new inn and eventually inherits it as his son, he moves to the flat upstairs and brings his plants with him. the inn's planter boxes are soon teeming with life and it gives his patrons something lovely to look at. when people tell him how talented a gardener he is, he jokes that he put his blood, sweat and tears into those things.

years pass. being in a place that is devoted solely to his stranger aggravates his sickness further and he's barely able to talk most days now, even though he prunes every morning and night now. he's gotten used to the sensation of something lodged in his throat, the physical manifestation of the words he'd never had the courage to say. he takes comfort in this small life he's built here as he waits, thankful that it affords him the luxury of watching people be people everyday.

hob is working on the pub's account ledger one day when his stranger walks into the inn. you're late, he wheezes. he can see the shock and maybe pity, in his stranger's eyes. he wonders if he looks worse than when he was starving for 80 years.

when his stranger calls him friend, hob smiles, unable to offer more. he feels a bud bloom against his tongue.

when his stranger tells him his name, dream of the endless, hob rolls it quietly in his mouth until he gives into the temptation and says it aloud, just once. dream. a single petal flutters out and hob is not quick enough to hide it.

when dream picks it up, rubbing it delicately with long fingers, hob knows he understands what it means.

how long have you suffered? does it matter, hob thinks. outwardly, he shrugs and flags a passing waiter, signing for two glasses of wine.

dream surprises him by actually drinking with him, a rare occurrence in these past six centuries. but then his stranger has changed a lot, seeming softer and more subdued though no less regal. learning he's the king of dreams put quite a few pieces of the puzzle into place, though it does dash away his hopes for a favorable conclusion. what could a king want with someone like him?

per tradition, hob tells him of all he's seen this past century and change. he struggles through the first sentence but is immediately relieved when dream signs back his response. he tells dream about advances in transportation, and about a beautiful train journey he went on up the alps, and about seeing a man walk on the moon for the first time and about smartphones, and the wonderful and terrible things that people can do with them. he tells him about his students when he used to be a professor back when we could still talk and about the lovely lady who taught him how to sign.

dream listens with a wistful expression and the occasional word or smile. hob wonders if that's compassion he sees in his eyes, or perhaps guilt. but he doesn't know what for, after all, hob did this to himself. or maybe because he knows that a confession unaccepted will still keep a garden in hob's chest.

when the night grows too late, the bar staff drop by to shoo them away, but hob tells them he'll close up instead.

you own this establishment? dream asks when they're alone, a little in awe. hob nods, biting at his lip and stamping down the ache in his chest, swallowing words and flowers alike.

you built a pub for me. dream takes hob's hand and squeezes it once.

i have caused you incredible pain and yet you created something beautiful out of it. hob's pulse picks up and tendrils start to crawl up his throat. he knows, of course, he knows. poppies, hob. your sickness is not subtle. but it does have its laws.

dream stands and pulls hob up with him, tugging him close. tell me. confess to me and be free.

it'll take everything hob has to get the words out, body shaking as the effort takes what meager oxygen he has in his body. but dream's hand is tight in his own, and there's promise in his galactic blue eyes and hob is so, so tired and there's really nothing left to lose. so with bloodied petals in his mouth, hob whispers, i love you, dream of the endless.

and i you, hob gadling. dream presses the words right into his temple and hob feels something unclench in his chest. he then spends the next few minutes on all fours, hacking out what seems to be an entire field of poppies until the roots finally come out and for the first time in over a century, hob gasps and fills his lungs with sweet, sweet air.

he collapses to the side and just lies there, taking one lungful after the other. when he next regains awareness of his surroundings, dream is sitting beside him on the floor, hob's hand clutched in his, relief painted across his face when hob finally smiles dopily up at him.

hello, stranger. hob grins before pulling dream in by the lapels and smashing their lips together. he feels more than hears dream huff a laugh, his plush lips cold, yet soft against his.

hello, beloved.

#dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #sandman #the sandman #the sandman netflix #morpheus #my stuff #this was supposed to be a quick little shouty thing #but idk what happened #hanahaki disease

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the-s1lly-corner · 2 months

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can I request something with Adam with chronic hanaki (I’m misspelling that aren’t I)

Adam x Reader w/ chronic hanahaki

If it makes you feel better anon I always forget how to spell it too and if I'm being honest I'm unsure if I'm spelling it correctly, too tired to double check though.. if I remember to edit this before this posts I'll fix it LMAO

He can be a little...

Dense skulled and oftentimes a little insensitive.. it likely doesnt even click in his head that the flowers are for you, though he has entertained the idea that you have the hots for him.. perhaps even trying to make light of the situation (or perhaps downplaying it, due to you being an angel and unable to die by most means? Or maybe he just doesnt realize the gravity... the pain, in this case) by lightly flirting with you

That... likely made it harder for you, not only worsening the disease but also making your mind work overtime trying to figure out if he was sending signals or not

Dipping back into the above, if you confessed to him he might just treat it as you having a colossal crush on him, once more not fully grasping the depths of it all. He might entertain you and take you out on a date..

Personally I enjoy the idea that Hanahaki goes away with a confession, regardless of how the other party reacts. The whole "love me or I'll die" thing has always felt so.. manipulative (obviously not at the fault of the victim since they cant control the rules of the disease).. so whether you still feel for him after he takes you out on a few dates is up in the air, based on how you think of him and his behavior after those dates

He... surprisingly does check in on you every now and then when he realizes you're coughing an awful lot and rushing off to a secluded space.. making these horrid gagging sounds. Hes brushed stray petals off of his robes before.. might just offer you a mint or something

Side note he seems like the type to snack on mints like they're candies, keeps those tin things on him

#hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam x you #hazbin adam x reader #adam x you #adam x reader

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eldritch-nightmare · 2 months

Text

slashers with hanahaki.

a/n: icb this took me like 2 months to finish omg anyways hanahaki is not a trope i personally enjoy but i like writing angst and i think it's an interesting concept and this is. honestly just an excuse to write amanda angst, actually. uhm. first post about slashers :thumbs up: might take time for me to get used to writing them tbh, so this might be short but!! i hope you enjoy it all nonetheless. ignore how long ethan's is. amanda comes with her own special bot so <3 enjoy tht if u use it.

includes: amanda young, quinn bailey, tiffany valentine, billy loomis, bo sinclair, and ethan landry.

warnings: gn!reader, angst, many mentions of vomit and coughing, blood, implied unrequited love (esp in bo's), randomly assigned flowers plucked out of my flower book.

AMANDA YOUNG

If there's one thing about Amanda that isn't hard to miss, it's the fact that she gets very jealous, very easily. It was obvious in the way she almost constantly glared at Lynn whenever the woman was in her line of sight, the way she held no kindness in her voice whenever the two were forced to speak to each other.

Well... it was obvious to John, at least. Even in the state that he was in, the man was nothing if not observant, and he certainly didn't miss the way Amanda's gaze would linger on you and Lynn. He didn't miss the way she would come up with random things for you to do, things that involved you keeping a distance from Lynn.

What John isn't aware of, however, is the fact that each time Amanda goes off alone, it's to cough and vomit up the flowers blooming inside of her. She loves you so much that she can't even be angry when she stares down at the bloodied petals of lavender in her hand as she gasps for breath.

This is her punishment, she thinks. It's her curse, one she'll keep to herself. She loves you, but she doesn't deserve you. If you get too close to her, if she shows that she cares for you, you'll die. They always do, and you're the one person she can't stand to lose.

So she'll keep this to herself. She'll diligently wash the blood off the petals in her hand and she'll put them with the rest, tucked away safely for no one but her to see. She'll let her love be a secret, even if her jealousy boils over.

QUINN BAILEY

Romance isn't something Quinn cares for. She's not interested in falling in love since it doesn't align with her goals of wanting to get revenge for her brother's murder. And you, the best friend of Samantha Carpenter, were meant to be another victim. The plan was to kill you in front of Sam, just to inflict a little extra trauma on her.

But that's not how things were turning out. The more time she spent with you, pretending to be friends with people she planned on killing, the more attached she was starting to become. It was small at first, something she could push aside at any given moment. But you just had to be nice to her.

With everything going on, everyone was always worrying over Sam or Tara, but during it all, you had pulled her to the side to ask how she was handling everything, asking if she was okay. And suddenly, it became harder to push those feelings aside, and camellia petals started forcing their way out of her throat whenever she coughed.

This didn't go unnoticed either, by her family or her 'friends', but she always brushed their concerns off. It's just a little cough, no big deal. But it wasn't. Your time to die was coming up, and Quinn was the one who was supposed to kill you. But now she's hesitating, her mind working a mile a minute to come up with a way for you to get out of this alive without risking everything else.

She loves you, as much as she loathes to admit it. She doesn't want to be in love, especially knowing you'll never love her back once you find out who she truly is.

TIFFANY VALENTINE

Pretty much everyone who knows Tiffany knows about her feelings for you. It's not something she bothers to hide, and even she's surprised that you aren't aware of the love that she has for you. Or maybe you're just pretending like you're oblivious? She certainly hopes not.

Either way, the first time she coughs a flower up, she feels... well... she wasn't upset. In her eyes, it was further proof of how much she truly adored you. The petals of pansies that she coughed up were always tucked away in a jar. She probably has like... 4-5 jars full of petals by this point.

She doesn't blame you for any of this either. It's not your fault that she fell in love with you! How could she not? You're you. Anyone could love you. She'd kill them if they did, of course, but her point still stands.

Of course, she's not an idiot. She knows what this means. The constant pain in her throat and the feeling of vomiting up blood and flowers is nothing compared to the pain of knowing you more than likely don't love her back. But it's a pain she's willing to bear if it means having you in her life.

And Tiffany is just... fairly confident that given enough time and patience, you'll love her back, one day. She could (and probably should) give up on you, she knows that, but she doesn't want to. Not yet.

BILLY LOOMIS

Love is not something that comes easily for Billy. He's damn good at faking it, but he tends to disappear the moment he starts feeling like he actually might be growing to love someone. But loving you? It was as easy as breathing, he didn't even notice he had fallen until the roses started falling from his lips. How cliché.

He's really... torn, to be honest, for many reasons. This little illness of flowers could potentially get in the way of his plans, first and foremost. It makes it a lot harder pretending to love Sydney when he starts hacking up stupid fucking rose petals whenever he thinks about you. And god forbid if he has a coughing fit when he's doing Ghostface business.

It's a pain to hide, but Billy is nothing if not determined. Not even Stu knows, that's how badly he wants to keep this a secret. It's not something he plans on hiding forever, of course. Once he's killed Sydney, he'll... probably get around to doing something about the roses piling up in a random shoebox in his room.

The thought of killing you certainly crossed his mind, don't get him wrong. It would probably be much easier having you dead than leaving you alive and dealing with this, but the moment he even processed the thought, he was falling out of bed from the sheer force of the coughing fit that hit him. It's the most roses he's ever thrown up at once, so. He threw that thought out almost immediately.

But he'll definitely play it off and act as if he isn't painfully pining for you if you ever find out about this little predicament. He's too prideful, too hesitant to ever fully commit to a person. The roses bloodied roses in the beat-up box are the closest he'll ever get to confessing his love to you.

BO SINCLAIR

Bo knew letting you live would bite him in the ass one of these days, he just wasn't expecting it to be like this. He knew he had a bit of a soft spot for you, though he loathed to admit it, even when his brothers give him knowing looks.

You just looked so damn perfect, all scared with tears streaming down your face. How could he not want to keep you around a little longer? He just didn't actually expect himself to grow attached. It was supposed to be a sadistic game, a way for him to torture you. Instead, he was the one being tortured.

Tortured by these damn flowers he keeps coughing up. He had to ask Lester what they were, though he obviously didn't mention why. Nobody was going to know about this, not Lester, not Vincent, and certainly not you. This was going to stay between him, and the bloodied petals of honeysuckle that he keeps hidden in the gas station.

He knew well enough that this little problem wasn't just going to go away so easily. Don't get him wrong, if he could kill you, he would. The thought alone is enough to keep him locked in a room, throwing up flowers until he sees dots in his vision. So clearly, he can't. He's undeniably stuck with you now, whether he likes it or not.

What's worse is he'll never have your love. Why would he? You'd be a fool to ever fall in love with him after everything he has put you through. He'll only ever have your fear.

ETHAN LANDRY

He wholeheartedly did not expect to fall in love, especially with someone inside Tara and Sam's friend group. What's worse is that it wasn't a 'normal' way of falling in love either. No, you stole his heart the moment you stabbed him while he was under the mask, growling out a threat so cruel, so gruesome, he was definitely going to steal it in the future.

The wild look in your eyes was a stark contrast to how you usually behaved, and that excited him. Honestly, how could he not fall in love with you after that? With Ghostface, you were aggressive, almost animalistic in the way you would fight for your life. With Ethan, you were concerned for his safety, even if you did eye him with suspicion like everyone else.

The flowers were annoying though, he can't lie. It's not fun coughing up tulips, especially when he's under the mask. It also makes it harder to hide his identity. Ethan honestly doesn't seem like he'd hide his coughing fits from you because he'd probably thrive under your concern. That means that if he slips up and has one when assuming the Ghostface persona, his identity is basically revealed and it ruins everything he and his family have been working for.

He'll make up excuses as to why you can't be killed. You're not even that close to Tara or Sam. Honestly, he wouldn't consider you to be part of the friend group, so your death wouldn't have any impact on them. You've unintentionally helped them with their plans by being Ethan's alibi whenever it wasn't him under the mask, so killing you just wouldn't make sense. He's not exactly the best at hiding his feelings for you.

And Ethan is well aware that given his second identity, he'll never have a chance with you. The moment the inevitable unmasking happens, he'll lose any kindness you may hold for him. That thought alone is enough to make the tulips force their way out of his throat, but he won't lie... it's exciting to think about how you might react once it's revealed that he's Ghostface.

#alright new tags babyyyyy #amanda young x reader #quinn bailey x reader #tiffany valentine x reader #billy loomis x reader #bo sinclair x reader #ethan landry x reader #ghostface x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #that's it right #gonna assume so

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kimakento · 3 months

Text

so this is how it feels

synopsis: nicholas has been in love with you for quite some time now, but he struggles to reconcile with that love when it goes even far enough for him to develop hanahaki. but you’ll never know that he yearns your love back. ⌙ 2.6k

pairing(s): wang yixiang x fem!reader x koga yudai

genre(s): angst

warning(s): swearing, blood, passing out, low self-esteem, bit of toxicity

tags: hanahaki!au, unrequited love and more. (too lazy to write it out sorry 😞)

author’s note: this was requested by my fav @loserlvrss i actually read a hanahaki fic the other day and HAD to write one myself, this is a bit self indulgent but as always hope you enjoy !!! i js wanted to get this out quicker, might make a part 2 idk i hope this is gut-wrenching enough for you bae 🤞

a few years ago, when nicholas was asked by one of his friends what his type was, he blanked out. while staring at his friend, dumbfounded, he scoffed, claiming that he didn’t care enough to have one.

love wasn’t something that he needed at the time, much less cared about. he pondered about how romantic love was supposed to feel like or what love even was, it wasn’t one of his priorities, though.

but now, if anyone ever asked nicholas what love was, he’d reply with you. the girl who occupied his every thought, his every dream, his every waking moment — maybe that was an exaggeration, but you were love to him. love was the person who made you feel feelings, nicholas couldn’t quite put it coherently but he just knew it was you.

and if you were love to him, why were you with him and talking about another man right now? nicholas despised him, he loathed that he wasn’t the reason for the goofy smile on your face, that he wasn’t the reason for your random fits of giggles, that he wasn’t—

“nicholas! are you even listening?” the train of thoughts cut off when a pout crept up on your face, emphasising your discontent. however, as time passed torturously slow, an unsual sensation in his chest began to settle, but he dismissed it. nicholas set his hazy gaze on you, watching intently while you parted your lips to speak, the same ones he so badly wanted to claim as his.

“just look at what he posted, k is definitely doing this on purpose.” you said while shoving your bright phone screen in his face, nicholas squinted his eyes to focus on the photo of yudai while the subtle tickle buried deep in his chest intensified. balling his fist, he watched as your enthusiasm became more evident as you slightly bounced on your bed, humming along to a melody, only stopping when he spoke.

“why don’t you just tell him about your feelings then?” more like ‘why couldn’t he tell you about his.’ it was rich coming from him.

“it’s not that easy, nicho,” and he thought he understood that more than anyone. “yudai—“

“can this wait? i need to use the bathroom right now.” nicholas was only a mere two seconds from just leaving, he couldn’t bear hearing that stupid name anymore. ‘yudai’ this, ‘kei’ that, he just wanted your attention on him and only him.

his steps felt heavy as he dragged his feet towards the bathroom; nicholas felt so shameful. distance from you felt like the proper solution. as he entered the bathroom and locked the door, his head fell against it in a dramatic thump. so much thoughts ran through his mind, it felt unbearable.

involuntarily, he let out a small cough into the palm of his hand.

fuck, am i sick right now? he thought.

but then—he saw it, a delicate and dainty pink petal; one that looked like one from a cherry blossom. that’s when his heart dropped. staring nervously at the out-of-place petal, it crumbled away painstakingly slowly, disappearing into flecks of dust whisked away by the air.

“what the fu—“

the vulgar sentence was cut off by another cough wracking his body, bringing a second, pale petal with it. nicholas’s eyes darted around anxiously as his breath hitched. this cannot be happening. not now. not like this, when you’re in the other room. with trembling hands, he slapped his hand over his mouth hastily. yet his ragged breaths only seemed to intensify the creeping pain in his chest, the ache refusing to dissipate.

completely oblivious, you noticed nicholas’s prolonged absence and decided to walk towards the bathroom, calling out his name while concerned.

“nicho, are you okay?”

in between half-stifled coughs he let out a meek mumble, “i…i’m fine.”

bringing your hand up to cover your face, you shook your head while tutting at his response.

“okay then..? just shout my name if you need anything!”

once he heard your retreating footsteps becoming fainter, nicholas retracted his hand from his mouth and noticed a small petal was placed fitly in his hand; he grimaced.

it was hanahaki. he was suffering because of his unrequited love for his best friend. why was it always him? bad things always had to happen to him.

a sharp pain struck him in the chest and he clenched his shirt to find relief. nearly doubling over in pain, nicholas ran over to the sink, putting one of his hands on each side while coughing violently. his grip on it was so hard that his knuckles turned white. after a few more minutes, it seemed to have subsided, but that was only the calm before a storm—a big one at that.

sheepishly, he turned the bathroom door handle and stepped outside, hearing the sound, you hurried over to him.

your hand came up to cover his forehead, feeling his body temperature before stating, “you look pale, and you’re hot. i really think you should go home.”

nicholas’ face flushed from your gentle touch, he didn’t even pay attention to the growing ache tightening.

a smile crept up on his face. ‘i know i’m hot, you don’t have to tell me.’ he wanted to say, but before the first word came out, he coughed into the palm of his hand.

another petal.

this time, a streak of blood painted the innocent, pink petal.

concern washed over you and you placed your hand over his shoulder, the petal just out of your line of sight. quickly, nicholas nodded his head before clenching his hand; just to hide it.

“what about you? you’re going to be lonely here.” he gazed down at you with drab eyes. mesmerising were your eyes, the eye contact you held with him enchanting him more with every fleeting moment—no, he wasn’t allowed to think that.

you responded with a small smile, “it’s okay, me and yudai are going out. you know, i think he likes me back. i might take my chance sooner or later—“ that name again; why is it always him? nicholas thought. that familiar pang pained him again and he clutched his other hand, gritting his teeth through the pain. it only seemed to worsen whenever you mentioned that guy—nicholas didn’t even want to think about his name.

after recognising the complicit frown on his face, you interrupted yourself and dismissed it as him being ill. “—but enough about that! you should go home.”

in defeat, he weakly nodded before grabbing his jacket and making his way out of your home. the outside world felt cold and the chilling wind whisked everything away as he kicked a nearby pebble.

opening his fist, he threw away the blood-painted petal in a rage.

nicholas hated—no, he loathed koga yudai. he hated how he had to fight for your attention, he hated that he even developed hanahaki because of his stupid, unwarranted love for his friend. most of all, he hated you for being so oblivious. but who was he kidding? wang yixiang could never hate you. even if he tried his utmost hardest.

the subtle tickle in his throat began again, almost like a never-ending story.

then he looked up, trying to distract himself by watching the clouds. it all became useless when your face appeared again in his thoughts, and he’s reminded of the strong gaze you held just minutes ago.

nicholas picked up his pace, walking through the park that you both do every week. shoving his freezing hands into his pockets, he notices a familiar face in the distance walking in the opposite direction.

koga yudai.

great, his day seemed to be getting worse. a bitter expression adorned his face as the taller man continued to walk towards him, almost passing nicholas in the process before finally recognising him and visibly brightening up.

“hey, nicholas! funny seeing you here.” his tone was light and airy, usually the type that friends would have towards each other. but they weren’t friends, they would never be friends; or at least that’s what nicholas thought.

the latter’s voice was flat and disinterested as he replied dryly, wanting to end the conversation. “yeah, nice.”

before he could walk away, yudai placed a hand on his shoulder to stop his sudden rush.

“do you know if she’s at home? i don’t know if you were told, but we’re going out right now. i really want to make a good impression.” on yudai’s face, he held an almost lovesick expression, which made nicholas feel sick.

the mention of you brought back the long forgotten pain. with a weak shake of his head, nicholas excused himself and walked away hastily.

kei was perplexed but thought nothing of it as he continued to your house, making note to ask you about it later.

the wooden bench nicholas chose to sat own was cold. his fingertips brushed against the splinted wood as his other hand covered his mouth, to attempt to silence his defeaning coughs that wracked his already-vulnerable state.

for months in a row, this continued—you’d call to talk about the ‘oh so romantic’ moments with kei or to talk about how kind he was, or to even just update nicholas about your situation with yudai. then that same pain would start again, and pink petals, sometimes painted with a streak of red, would fall out of his mouth. it only worsened when you announced that you and yudai were a thing.

he was genuinely sick of it.

his pain seemed to have become palpable in every way.

but today, was a day like no other. nicholas was hunched over, eyes widened at what lay there, tainting the white, marble sink in his bathroom.

a whole cherry blossom.

he turned the tap, indulging the clear water to run; all to tune out his thoughts. the petals of the blossom crumbled, and some were taken away by the water. with trembling hands, he threw the running water at his face, with this continued on for a couple of minutes with a few sighs of fatigue in between.

when leaving the bathroom and sitting onto his bed, he began to sink deep into thought. nicholas didn’t know how to get rid of this, the disease that plagued his soul, the one that he was terrified of bringing up out loud, much less to you. this unknownness was unfamiliar; therefore horrifying. help couldn’t be an option for him, yet he couldn’t just hope it all went away. but—

before nicholas could finish his thought, his phone vibrated from a text.

my life </3 wanted 2 ask if u wanted to go to a get-together with our class with me n k at one of their houses (u don’t have to come, i know how much u hate these.) sent 1:38pm

the last part of your text, though not important, made his heart flutter. as he reread the message he noticed the phrase ‘me and k’. armed with frustration, he was reminded of the blossom again. and with a bitter taste in his mouth, he replied back.

nicho!! ok. txt me the address. sent 1:43pm

as you squinted to read his message, your mind wandered. the crude reply sounded unlike him and so you responded. nicholas stared at the three dots that flowed on his screen, anticipating your reply.

my life </3 u good? u sound out of it ): if u’re sick u should stay home. sent 1:45pm

nicholas hated seeing you sad, he never wanted to be the cause of your unhappiness but he also didn’t want to see you with yudai. he took a deep breath to calm himself, choking himself up when he coughed.

it was another whole flower. however, there was no blood this time. his stomach churned as he doubled over and the feeling of wanting to throw up intensified. nicholas wanted nothing but to get the hanahaki disease out of him.

tapping your foot impatiently, you texted him again.

my life </3 nicho? where r u? wang yixiang. i’m concerned now. read 1:54pm

every passing minute made you more anxious, resulting in you picking at your fingers.

with trembling fingers, nicholas responded with a simple ‘i’m okay’. and you let out a sigh of relief knowing he was fine.

‘please come to the get-together’ you said, ‘it’ll be fun’ you said. yet what was fun about watching you all over kei? what was so fun about leaving your friend hanging and barely even speaking to him? what was fun about being so oblivious about his painfully obvious feelings?

while everyone cooed at the ‘cute’ couple that was you and yudai, nicholas stayed slumped in the corner with an empty glass in his hand; subtly glaring at you both with watchful eyes.

as you interlocked your fingers with kei’s, you bridged the gap between you, meeting his lips with yours.

thoughts distorted and eyes narrowed, nicholas swore he could hear his porcelain heart shatter into minuscule pieces.

there it was again, the ache in his chest, now rising up his throat.

placing his glass on the table, he sped up the steps to find the nearest bathroom. finally, one door he opened turned out to be it. and wasting no time, he hurried in and locked the door; running to the sink, he couldn’t stop the strings of coughs from his mouth. flower after flower appeared, each with more streaks of blood than the one before.

so, this was how it felt? to fall in love with you? nicholas wondered if it would’ve been different if he had confessed before everything. everyone warned him to not develop feelings, it was always going to be a bad idea. he never listened.

and these were the consequences.

the flowers were nonstop and like infinity, they continued on and on and on. each blossom pained him more, making him wince. his vision slightly darkened and his breath hitched.

then it quickened and it felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen. the room started spinning and the temperature dropped. or it didn’t, he didn’t know. nicholas’s senses were all distorted and that made his brain unable to recognise or process anything. everything felt foreign and weird. while staggering, he fell to the floor in one swift motion.

“nicholas?” he heard a voice echo.

another cough. another pretty pink cherry blossom. one as pretty as you.

“nicho?!” again, the same familiar voice. his eyes stayed open long enough to watch the door creak and you come out behind it. your face showed worry as you scrambled down, clutching his shirt.

voice cracking, you whisper-shouted, “nicholas! listen to me, come on.”

your shaking hands reached into your pocket, dialling for an ambulance.

and then you see it, a flower on the floor, laid prettily next to his motionless head. your hands tremble trying to reach out to touch it, but you’re distracted when nicholas mumbled softly.

“what’s wrong?” you asked quietly, tears threatening to fall.

a small smile appeared on his face, “i love you.”

“i know, i love you too. but this isn’t it for you, please.”

“y..you don’t get it… not in that..way.”

the last thing he remembered was seeing your eyes blinking cluelessly. it took you a couple of seconds before your eyes widened. you turned away from him, concealing your hurt expression and you heard nicholas sigh.

“nicholas, i..i’m sorry.” you managed to say while turning to face him, only to see his eyes shut peacefully.

even though he knew there was no chance of you liking him back, nicholas would still always love you and choose a life with you in it in a heartbeat.

#&team nicholas #&team k #koga yudai #wang yixiang #&team x reader #nicholas x reader #k x reader #nicholas imagines #k imagines #&team imagines #&team drabbles #&team angst #✍🏾 — kimakento writes

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